#but pls pls pls almost anything will be better than continuing making coffee

[unicorncornflakes]

Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 7

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at him. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasy @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond @imaloserbby @youngcomputerpuppy @aemondsfavouritebastard @cloudroomblog @queenofshinigamis @bluevxnus @wooya1224 @serving-targaryen-realness @darkenchantress @padfooteyes @mariannnavao @moonlightfoxx @jennifer0305 @ammo23 @iloveallmyboys @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @okfashionista @shelbyteller

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 4.7K

"How beautiful you are so arranged, (Y/N)!" your grandmother exclaimed when she saw you coming down the stairs that Monday morning. You knew little about offices. You didn't know anything. You didn't care about this job, but you knew that shorts and tight tops weren't allowed there. A pity. You were sure that Aemond would have liked to see you like that more than  dressed for the office, with that short skirt and the matching jacket. You had meant to ignore it. If you could make him jealous in the process, all the better. But, you no longer had hopes. You were never going to have it the way you wanted it. So going back whatever your father thought was naïve or pretty in your relationship was off the table.

Aemond appeared at that moment, pulling on his long black pea coat. He stood in front of the dressing room mirror, admiring himself. You couldn't help but think he was pompous, but…he was the kind of pompous you liked. He was irresistible dressed in a suit, in that long black jacket, with his always perfect tie. He had a meeting that morning, or was what he had told you in a grunt while you were having breakfast. Your mission that day was to attend the meeting, standing behind him, who would be sitting at the head of the table. You would serve him water or coffee if he asked you to. End of mission. You couldn't think of anything you wanted less, but… at that moment you could see how Aemond looked at you out of the corner of his eye to quickly turn his face away from him. His smirk had failed  seeing you dressed up. Had he liked what he had seen? Definitely yes. But, you also knew that nothing was possible between you anymore, right? What had happened in the bathroom was proof of that... but that didn't stop you from liking him, or that... you were still in love with him... you saw him put on his tie and you got rid. His hands were perfect. Everything about Aemond Targaryen was perfect.

"We're late" he pronounced it without daring to look at you, still primping himself like a gallant peacock. That day was the meeting with people who had a lot of money and who could make him earn a lot of money. And Aemond already had a lot of money; these kinds of meetings were just about pride. You finished going downstairs and Alicent fixed your skirt, as if she didn't know how you managed to put that office skirt shorter than it already was for her taste.

"Don't be too hard on her. It’s her first day" Alicent scolded him and you continued in silence. You searched for your father with your eyes, expecting him to come down the stairs at any moment. Aemond almost seemed to notice and he spoke to you with the same tone of voice that he had always used with you, before realizing that it was what was happening between the two of them, two summers ago, when he felt some kind of compassion towards you...

"He's not coming. Yesterday he was partying with those of us who have the meeting today” he told you, taking his briefcase and the car keys “Let's go, you and me alone” And you sigh at the idea of being alone you two again after Friday night. Alicent said goodbye to you and you saw how Aemond looked up at the sky when he heard from his mother that she would pray that everything goes well in the meeting with the investors. As if he really needed it? You smiled complicity when you saw him like that, and for the first time since you arrived, he also smiled back at you. And your heart pounded, as if what Aegon had done was really going to make a difference. Aemond led you to the car parked outside and opened the door for you. You walked in with your eyes fixed on him and he quickly climbed into the car seat, but at that moment he reminded himself that you were not just any girl. You were his niece, his niece. He chastised himself for being so chivalrous and climbed into the driver's seat rudely. He started the engine and at that moment he stepped on the accelerator. He was running late and he couldn't afford to spend too much time alone with you.

"Tomorrow it would be advisable that you take the subway to get to work" he told you focused while he was driving, and you looked at him confused. He had he dared to speak to you after all that had happened? He kept looking at the road, never losing sight of it. It wasn't going to be a very long road, but it was taking forever for both of you. “I don't want anyone to think that I've pulled strings for you to get this job this summer,” he commented without losing concentration. He had never put up with nepotism, but he had not gotten his position in the company on his own merits either.

"No, it´s clear. I have obtained this position for my great merits to serve water” you answered him ironically, and you saw him laugh. He was laughing just like before. You were still sending messages to your friends from Starfall, but you saw how Aemond looked at you for a moment with a wide and sincere smile. You got a message from Cregan. He reminded you that you had a date for lunch that same day and you simply answered him with a kiss emoticon.

"Great merits for serving water and... coffee," Aemond added, looking at you again like a lovesick fool. He had realized that he was in love with you. Even though he couldn't have you, he was. He wanted to be together, he wanted to control you, he wanted… his caught-over-you asshole look disappeared when he saw you were talking to Cregan, and you didn't even see it. He just looked ahead. Serious again. You laughed at his words and looked up from the phone. You only saw him with that frown again. His mind told him that this was not going to work, that you, like your mother, were uncontrollable, just like Alys... but that made him want more... you looked ahead with a mischievous smile and unbuttoned part of the neckline of your blouse you were wearing He saw you take a selfie sticking out your tongue. He noticed that your lips were painted that red that he had given you last summer. He saw you send the photo to Bryen… he wanted to be the recipient of that photo… “Showing your favorite bastard what he's missing?” he muttered, trying to sound powerful over you, to control you, dominate you... that was what he aspired to, to have you all to himself... how he had had you in the bathroom... and there came the remorse again...

"Are you jealous, Uncle Aemond?" You told him sensually, as if nothing had happened between you, as if he hadn't rejected you in that painful way that night. What was the problem he had?

"Perhaps" he answered trying to sound cold and distant, and you... you thought you would die before that confession. He could have it if he wanted it, he could have everything, absolutely everything. However, at that moment he broke your bubble of happiness again. "Pick up my phone and call Alys, tell her there's traffic and we're going to be late" he ordered as your first task as his assistant and you obeyed. You opened the phone without a problem, as if you didn't know that the pin on the device was the year the Dragons of Landing had beaten the Wargs of the North in the soccer final. Aemond had no secrets from you, nor you from him. But, at that moment, your smile disappeared. It had opened up about the last conversation he and Alys had had, you saw a picture of Alys you didn't want to see and you put the phone down. Always her. There would always be her. Aemond seemed to see it and arrogantly picked up the phone. At that moment, he was the one who opened the phone and realized that it was what you had seen. He didn't speak and neither did you. He was nobody to tell you things about the photos you received. He saw your cold gaze now and he spoke with a serious voice. “I told you that the best thing was for us to ignore each other, that we knew what was happening to us…”

"Here the only one who doesn't know what he wants is you" you blurted out without any affection. You were going to argue again. What was wrong with you two? Why couldn't I be the same with you again? Why couldn't he love you?

“I know what I want, it's just that I can't have it. It's what you don't seem to understand” he released angrily.

"Because?" you asked him, putting everything else aside, wanting to understand why he couldn't have you. It was clear that he wanted you, you could keep it a secret. You didn't care023., but you needed to understand why. “Why can't you have it if it's what you want? If that's what I want?"

"Because we are not freaking monsters, (Y / N)" he roared at you, looking at you with his one eye fixed on you, with that tiny pupil, as if he considered the subject closed. You were silent, reflecting on what he had told you, but then you struck back. After a long moment of reflection and several minutes without saying anything, just when he parked in front of the company door, in the space that was specifically for him.

"I didn't know that feeling something for someone was like being a monster" you replied getting out of the car and heading to the entrance of the building where you had gone so many times as a child. Aemond watched you walk away from him. No. The problem was not loving, although it was clear that for him it always had been. He had a gift for screwing up with all the women he cared about. You weren't the first one he had screwed up with, but something inside him told him that he wanted you to be the last.

“You're late,” Alys told him as she waited for him in the long hallway that led to the boardroom. Aemond stood at the head of that motley crew of you and Alys. The latter greeted you winking, and you couldn't hate her more. She was disgusting, but…you couldn't take away from the fact that she looked irresistible. She always seemed to look perfect and be fucking sexy. It wasn't that you were left behind, but you were jealous of him. That was all. She was the one who got your friday shag. Of that you were more than sure, the one who sent risqué messages to Aemond and… the woman with whom he had been together for the last twenty years. No matter how their relationship went, you would never be Alys, or at least you felt that way.

"Tell me something I don't know. There was traffic,” Aemond said, not quickening his pace, but still walking. I was not going to lose money. Everyone needed him. That was what he always told himself. He was Aemond Targaryen, the owner of King's Landing, almost complete Westeros. He was a winner in everything, except…in what he really wanted. “Have they been waiting a long time?”

"No, they also arrived late after the party that your brother had to offer them" Alys laughed complicitly with her boss, who didn't even look at him. You continued walking down the hall and Alys then looked at you "How you've grown, (Y/N)!"

"Yeah, a hell of a lot since last birthday" you replied ironically, and Alys laughed. She liked women like that. She couldn't stand goody-goody and you weren't. She smiled looking ahead. You had hardly changed at all, at most you had more breasts, but that was all. You couldn't stand empty conversations and you preferred to start to distance yourself from her, but she surprised you when she smiled at you and winked at you again.

“I'm glad to see you haven't used up the lipstick too much. You must have to use it little ”she answered, taking out her nails and beginning to mark her place in that relationship. Aemond skidded to a stop and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, as if he was going to scold Alys for just what she had said, to protect you. Alys wasn't the one to say anything to you, but then you spoke.

“Oh, well, it's just… I don't need as much as… you know…” you said, narrowing her eyes daringly and she just laughed. You saw her laugh. She would never have pictured you like this, but she liked you.

"Yes, only bitches use it excessively, but I think you also know what I'm talking about, don't you?" she laughed again and for a moment you laughed too. Aemond sighed in horror, continuing on his way to the meeting room. He didn't want his summer to be a constant catfight. Nevertheless, you followed him, as did Alys. At the time, Alys thought she liked you, but she didn't know how much her life was going to change because of you.

That first day was horrible. You could never have imagined how picky Aemond was about absolutely everything. Even the temperature of the coffee had to be controlled. In addition, the continuous discussions that you had in the car did not help at all. During that tedious meeting in which only data and amounts of money had come to light, you had been bored like a shell. Data. Data. Data. That was all that was talked about. Sometimes they would make a joke that you didn't understand and your feet and legs would start to hurt from heels that you couldn't stand. You could see how Aemond tensed every time Lucerys Velaryon spoke. He was one of the company's accountants, but he gave you the feeling that your uncle couldn't stand him. You saw him in his own element, doing and undoing as he pleased. And that was the only thing that didn't bore you. You were in love and you knew he was too, even though he didn't want to admit it.

“You have to wear lower heels” Alys commented to you when she saw you leave the meeting almost limping. And you glared at her as you sat down and tossed them into the hall that led to Aemond's office. You caressed your feet. You didn't give a damn that she was in front of her. They hurt. Aemond was still meeting, now in his office, while he finalized the details of his latest contract.

“Then they wouldn't make my ass good,” you told her sincerely, with a shrug, and Alys laughed.

"Well, I spent many years wearing a push-up bra until your uncle paid  my tits, so I'm not the one to judge you" she commented with a shrug and you froze at that moment. Alys seemed to notice it and stopped typing a report on her computer.

"Then, I'll ask him to pay my ass on the next birthday" you told him rudely, turning to massage your feet in silence.

"I told Aemond you're pretty when you're jealous" she replied and with a mischievous smile she directed her attention to her computer screen and simply started typing. You were blown away. What? You weren't jealous. You only hated her because she was stupid. You would never be jealous of her. You were so much better than her. Completely better than her. Just as you were going to answer it, the door to Aemond's office opened and the new clients of your uncle's company came out. The two men looked at you strangely while you continued massaging your feet in silence. You knew you were anything but glamorous, but you didn't care one bit. Perhaps, so even Aemond fired you...

Your uncle came out to say something to Alys and stopped in front of you, sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting room, massaging your feet in silence. He just stood still. Not a single emotion was visible on her face. "Alys, tell Luke to prepare the report he talked about in the meeting" he ordered her without taking his eyes off you and you returned the look angrily.

"Right away, Mr. Targaryen" she replied, keeping her manners, as if it were possible that the new client was still listening to you.

Aemond took your heels silently and offered you his arm. You accepted it just as silently and he lead you into his office while you limped. Aemond sighed seeing you like this and he grabbed you effortlessly once he closed the door to his office. He led you over to his huge leather chair and there he sat you down. He looked at the heels and then back at you. Your gaze was fixed on the ground, almost as if you were ashamed that he had seen you like this. But, he liked to see you even like this. He liked everything about you. He had taken you and protected you, almost as he would have done before that terrible summer. You didn't even look at him. You just picked up one of the heels ready to put it back on. You weren't going to let him see your weakness anymore.

"Why do you wear heels that you can't stand?" he asked you, almost as if scolding you for your attitude.

"They make me a magnificent ass" you whispered defeated. That was how you needed him. That way. He gave a defeated half smile. He wanted to kiss you. This must be very similar to what Daemon had felt for Rhaenyra. However, he just walked over to a filing cabinet and pulled out a box from the bottom drawer and brought it over to you. He opened it and you looked at him strangely. He took out some boots that you remembered well. Those old leather boots that he had worn before he was the CEO of the company. His tall laced boots, black and worn.

“You won't get a great ass, but they will keep you from dying today,” he whispered as he put them on you. And you felt in the clouds while he tied them.

"They're going to be huge" you said in a whisper and he smiled as he continued tying them in silence. You saw the contents of that box. They must have been the things he'd had in his office while he'd been an assistant. A couple of photos of Vaghar, an anti-stress ball... the drawings you made for him as a child. You saw a drawing that you had done for him when you were four years old in which you, he, and a rectangle that you had told him was Vaghar appeared. He seemed to see your reaction and he closed the box to continue with his task of tying the boots. You almost looked like that needy little girl again. "I thought you didn't like how I draw" you said jokingly. He just frowned.

"Why do you think so?" he told you visibly angry at your words.

"You don't want me to go to Sunspear" you confessed with a shrug and he just got up and moved away from you. He sat in one of the black leather armchairs that were on the sides of his office and stretched out tired after such a long morning.

"It's not about Sunspear" he confessed to you, taking out a cigarette and putting it to his lips. "It's about you being away from me" he spoke with the cigarette in his mouth, moving it at the same time as his lips moved, without it falling from them. It was a burst of sincerity, the most you were going to get from him. "I don't want you to get away from me. I didn't want it when your parents got divorced and I don't want it now."

"What do you want from me, Aemond?" you asked him again and he smiled tired again.

"I've offered it to you many times already," he said grimly, lighting his cigarette.

“What you suggest is bullshit. On Friday, in that bathroom, you showed me that it's not what you want..." you told him, approaching him. You stood in front of Aemond and caressed his chest, shoulders... and he closed his eye while enjoying it "Let me relieve you after such a hard meeting..." you whispered to him and he opened his only eye. He looked at you, fascinated. Gods. Yes, that was just what he needed, to drop his pants and have you sit on his lap, to tell you that he loved you while he grabbed your hips and moved them to the rhythm he wanted… you didn't give up, and he, he seemed unable to say no to you... but, Aemond just looked elsewhere.

“You were just a child when it came to light that my uncle Daemon was sleeping with my older sister. I don't think you even remember,” he said with a tired half-smile. “When I started to feel the same way about you, I told myself that I wasn't that kind of man, (Y/N)” You stayed cold at that moment. You didn't remember that. The collective memory acted in a strange way and scandals like this destroyed the lives of those who were the protagonists and disappeared quickly for everyone else. "I'm doing it for both of us"

"And, in exchange, you just offer me to make horny each other up without getting anything?" you snapped at him without any love, feeling rejected again. It didn't seem like an excuse enough. You didn't want to understand. You didn't want to do it because it wasn't what you wanted.

"We can be together like this" he told you again, desperate to have you. He couldn't fuck you, but he needed you. He needed you. That was the only thing that his head repeated. He tried to touch you with his bandaged hand and you pulled away.

“I have arranged to have lunch with Cregan. I'd better go” you told him, picking up the heels. You would put them on when you got to the country club, you didn't have time to go home and change. You were fed up with the game Aemond wanted to play with you. Your uncle nervously got up to follow you. He grabbed your arm and forced you to look into his eyes.

"I love you" was all he said to you. But the damage was done. You were going to go hove lunch with Cregan. The way that Aemond wanted to show you his love did not fill you, it did not satisfy you at all. It was clear that he loved you, but he had to first establish how he wanted to love so that you could stay by his side. You left there without saying a word. No desire to lunch with Cregan. Not really wanting anything.

"They are the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, and I hate that they are so sad" you heard Cregan's voice as he sat at the bar of that country club next to you. He told the bartender to bring him a whiskey on the rocks and he sat down next to you. He smiled at you and took your hand, kissing your knuckles. You didn't remember him being so attractive. Without a doubt, he had dressed up for that moment, and you were still dressed in what you had left home that morning. "You're beautiful" he said after kissing you and you smiled sadly.

"I'm terrible" you laughed as flirtatiously as you could and Cregan took a small sip of his drink, still admiring you.

“No, you don't really see yourself with my eyes. You are spectacular” he replied, lightly caressing your hand. You blushed when you received so much attention. If he was a man truly interested in you, why wasn't Aemond like that? "I wanted to thank you for accepting my invitation" he told you sincerely and you seemed to light up at such gallantry.

“I could never say no to being asked to lunch,” you said, blinking suggestively, stroking him suggestively back on his hand. You were you again. You real youself, and Cregan laughed at your quip. It was a clear, sincere laugh... very different from what Aemond was used to.

"So, are we going to lunch now?" He said offering you his arm so that you could hold on to it and you held on to it. You were still wearing Aemond's boots.

"And everything hurt, absolutely everything" you explained with a half smile, while they served you the first course. Cregan smiled at you, as he had since he'd seen you. In the end you were even glad you went there. You had hardly stopped to think about Aemond. You were back in action. You were the same daring girl from Starfall again. That was how you were meant to be, wild and determined and relentless.

Cregan poured you wine and you took a discreet sip as he filled his glass almost to the brim. If Aemond had been there, you would have told yourself how ordinary he was, but Cregan was only trying to make you laugh. “Have you at least closed the contract?” he asked you.

“I don't know, I think so, but I didn't pay much attention the last 180 minutes of the meeting” you told him jokingly.

"But, if those meetings are 180 minutes" he told you starting to laugh.

"Well that" you laughed with him, and he toasted with you.

"For the fruitful meetings" he told you, looking into your eyes. You remembered that thing about how you had to look into his eyes while he was bridling. If not, that was seven years of bad sex. But, at that moment, you realized that Cregan was charming. However, you were not attracted to him. It didn't have the same effect on you that Aemond and his one eye had as they silently devoured you. You almost felt bad for Cregan. You also told yourself that it was normal, that you had to keep trying. You couldn't live in the past with Aemond and his ghosts. You had to move on. "Know? I'm happy that we met today ” he commented to you, leaving the glass of wine on the table, and taking your hand again.

"Why?" you asked, with a flirtatious smile. You knew the answer, it was from seeing you... and yet, Cregan knocked you out with his answer.

"Because I think I managed to brighten those pretty eyes" he told you sincerely, as if he really cared what was happening to you. Never before had any man been like this with you. You blushed and smiled at him. You kept talking. Cregan asked you what you would study the following year. You told him about your plans to go to Sunspear, art school… and Cregan smiled at you. He told you that he had never been to Sunspear but he would surely like it if you were there. He told you that if you finally went there, he would come to see you. He encouraged you to continue doing the things you liked. You couldn't live in the past with Aemond and his ghosts. You had to move on. You didn't know how wrong you were. You came home and that night, despite all the incidents with Aemond, you slept soundly. With a smile on your lips. You didn't like Cregan, or at least you didn't feel the same way you did with Aemond, but he had reminded you again of the woman you were, not the one they wanted to make you.

#aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader

[eddies-house]

The Under-Ground

Chapter One - Welcome to The Under-Ground

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - In which you work at the local Hawkins coffee shop where you thought you'd be able to escape the horrors that were high school a few years after graduating. Until one of those horrors lands a job in the closing shift with you...and you have to train him.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

5K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: I finished this sooner than I thought I would...pls let me know what you think, I am having so much fun writing this so far and I can't wait to keep going

Masterlist

Next ->

The chill Autumn air infiltrated the apartment and left you shivering, the wool blanket atop your comforter did little to aid you in getting warm.  That’s what five hundred dollars a month got you in small town Hawkins, it's what you could afford.  Old striped wallpaper that alternated a faded baby blue and pale yellow that seemed to have been glued to the wall since the 70’s barely clung to the walls, a majority of it peeling and begging to be torn off.  The stained white linoleum throughout the kitchen had seen better days and the carpet in the living room and bedroom was dingy, so dingy that no vacuum could possibly come close to cleaning it.  The lock on the door was on the verge of breaking and almost didn’t work–almost.  And of course the heater was definitely broken, the creepy landlord would take his sweet time to fix it, leaving you with a freezing apartment as the seasons changed and Hawkins welcomed the fall.  A broke college student by day and a barista by night, these are the cards you were dealt for now.  

Classes at the community college had finished for the day, rotating to the night courses.  A few papers were due next week, one for your business class on the effects of product promotion in business growth that happened to be stressing you out extra.  Your fingers tapped away at your laptop from your mattress nestled in the corner on the floor of your tiny bedroom.  4:30PM, the time in the corner of the screen read, just half an hour before your shift at The Under-Ground.  With a groan, you click save on the document and shut the laptop which was certain to be opened later tonight after your shift only to continue the torturous essay.  Begrudgingly you began your pre-work ritual of grabbing whatever snack or meal you had in the fridge, scarfing it down, and then tidying your appearance a bit while listening to your daily playlist named “Eh” on Spotify.  Today’s vibe was set by Dreams by Fleetwood Mac.  

The rusty bathroom faucet sputtered water before allowing a full stream to flow into the sink.  You splashed some water on your face to feel more alive although it may have been a mistake in hindsight since the apartment was already cold and rather than feeling refreshed, you felt like a wet dog.  Dabbing your face with a towel hanging from over the rod where the tie dye shower curtain hung as well, you collected any leftover mascara from the previous night beneath your waterline and around your eyelids.  Moving to the compact closet in the bedroom, a simple outfit of jeans and a maroon knitted sweater you’d ‘claimed’ from the lost and found at the college were chosen and paired with your only signature docs.  Lastly, your apron was tied around your waist in a neat knot.  

Grabbing your keys from the laminate countertop and shoving your laptop in your bag, you make your way through the damaged and scratched up wooden door that was the entrance to your apartment, the number seven nailed to the front of it.  “God dammit.” you jam your key in and out of the lock, twisting and repeating until it finally clicks in place.  The door leads right outside into the biting air and you scurry down the concrete stairs while avoiding touching the nasty railing, Mrs. Harrison’s chubby cat, Raphael is perched right at the bottom like he always is.  His large green irises stare up at you, giving the appearance that he was just a fluffy ball of black fur with eyes.  “Ralphy” you mumble your nickname for him affectionately as you steal a pat from his head on your way out of the apartments, a small meow chiming through the air.  

The Under-Ground wasn’t a far walk but it sure did seem that way the colder it got.  You’d been working there since the Spring and so far had no issues with weather but you knew it would bite you at some point.  The walk through downtown Hawkins is crisp and cloudy, leaves blowing delicately from the trees and laying perfectly in the street, colors varying from red, orange, and brown.  It was mid September.  Patrons wander about the streets attending to their daily errands.  Teenagers mess around at the entrance of The Hideout, no doubt attempting to use their fake IDs only to be turned away by the bouncer, Stan.  

Joyce Byers cleans the storefront window of Melvald’s, taking care to not miss a single streak.  Her face lights up as her son, Will approaches the store.  Max Mayfield skateboards past you down the sidewalk at lightning speed, the only reason you know it's her is a flash of her flaming red hair as well as Lucas Sinclair trying to keep up with her on his own board, a nervous expression written on his features as he carefully maneuvers.  Nancy Wheeler hurriedly gets into her car, wrapping up her workday at The Hawkins Post while Jonathan Byers gives her cheek a kiss and heads over toward Will and Joyce.   

The Under-Ground comes into view as you round the corner, the brick building vacant of customers at the moment from what you can tell through the windows.  The evening rush hasn’t picked up yet, usually kicking in at around six when the college students like yourself would make themselves at home and study over lattes and espresso shots.  The bell chimes above the door as you pull it open, the smell of coffee beans and pastries flooding your nose and some upbeat jazz playing through the speakers.  Robin sits atop the counter much to the boss, Ronnie's dismay but he’s not around to scold her.  Her dirty blonde bob is freshly trimmed, bangs laying just right across her forehead while she has a lollipop sticking out her mouth and she skims through a magazine lazily.  One leg is hitched up onto the counter with her bright yellow converse on display, knee to her chest.  She’s wearing jeans with a few holes and a vintage tee.  Her bright blue eyes glance up and land on you, face lighting up as she greets you.  “Hey, Robin!” you greet back, making your way behind the counter to clock in on the computer.  

“You’re lucky, it’s been dead for hours.” she says while setting aside the magazine.  “Think it’s gonna rain too so it’ll probably stay that way.” she continues.  

“Good, I can probably catch up on some homework then.” you hum, punching in your employee number.

“Oh and some new guy is supposed to close with you tonight, I think you’re training him.” she mentions.

“So, no catching up on homework then.” you sigh.  Training someone new wasn't necessarily difficult however it was draining since you already knew how to do everything like the back of your hand.  Dumbing it all down always took a minute since you had to slow down and give them time to catch on.  

“Did Ronnie say who?” you ask, turning to face Robin.  Hawkins was small which meant that everyone knew everyone.  Which was unfortunate sometimes since that also meant everyone knew everyone's business.

Robin hops off the counter, hair bouncing as she does.  “Nope, I just know that it's some dude.” she crunches down on her lollipop and discards the stick in the garbage a few feet away.  

With a sigh, you head to the back room to put your bag in your locker only to find Steve lounging at the lunch table, his feet crossed on top of it while scrolling through his phone and two legs of the chair he occupies off the ground as he balances.  Today he sports some red corduroy pants and an ivory crewneck sweater finished off with converse, just like Robin’s, only black.  “What’s up?” he greets, not once looking up from his phone.  

“Scrolling through Tinder again, Stevie?” you mock while setting your bag in your locker for safe keeping, hooking the lock around the metal and clicking it into place.

“Actually, it’s Grindr.” he says matter of factly.  

“My bad, you find anyone cute?” you ask, peering over his shoulder, his aftershave smelling subtle and pleasant.   

He lands on a cute blonde guy with green eyes, most likely from a town over.  “Not really.” he exhales, running a hand through his voluminous hair.  

“Well what about him?  He’s pretty cute.” you encourage.  

“Dude, it says he likes to do Karaoke for fun.” he glances behind at you with a raised brow.  You shrug, unaware of why that would deter him.  

“If that's not a red flag, I don’t know what is.” he states, shutting his phone off and shoving it in his pocket while standing, making his way to the vending machine.  “What happened to me, Socks?  I used to pull 'em left and right and now no guy or girl will give me the time of day.”  Socks was your nickname given by Steve and Robin after the dreadful incident where a pipe burst from one of the sinks and you happened to be standing in front of it, the bottom half of your pants along with your socks becoming soaked.  The rest of the evening you worked your shift without shoes, only in your sopping wet socks with your jeans rolled up.  It had been an ongoing joke since, although you always reminded them how horrible it is to go around in wet shoes, the squeaky sound they would make against the floor and the squishiness of the soles.  They always disagreed, insisting that it would be worse to work in only socks and how they’d just opt to continue wearing the drenched shoes.  

“Steve, I think Grindr and Tinder and all the dating apps might be giving you unrealistic expectations.” you tell him truthfully.  

“Okay, but who the hell else am I gonna find in Hawkins?  Been there, done that, this is my only option."  He inserts a dollar into the vending machine and punches in his selection, shortly after a bag of pretzels falls.  

“Pretzels, Steve?  Really?” you taunt.  “How bland of you.” you deadpan.  He pulls open the packaging and tosses a pretzel in his mouth all while giving you his signature pout.  “Maybe that's your issue, you dumb yourself down for these people you don’t even know.” you continue.

“Wow.” he raises his arms in disbelief, a hint of humor evident.  “That…” he flings a pretzel at you, hitting your chest.  “...was mean.” he sasses.  “But probably true.” he finishes.  “Don’t you have a job or something?” his head tilts toward the door.  

“Yeah, and so do you.” you shoot back, grabbing his apron from where it hung over one of the breakroom chairs and throwing it at him.  

Exiting the room, you hear Steve chime in one more time.  “I’m off in like fifteen!”  Your shifts always overlapped with Steve and Robin’s, them usually taking the morning to afternoon shift and you taking over closing.  Ronnie would always hang out in the back office so you didn’t have to close alone but that was pretty much the extent of his labor.  The beans needed to be ground for the next day, chairs stacked on the tables, bathroom tidied, ingredients prepped, counters wiped down, etc.  And you were always the one to do it, not that you minded so much.  Ronnie never micromanaged and you had gotten good at closing so it became somewhat of a meditation time.  The town winded down and the dim lighting provided a relaxing glow, almost as if you were in a spa.  You could at least pretend anyway.

Robin was making herself a latte, carefully pouring the milk over the coffee in an attempt to make a design.  She’d been practicing for weeks with no success.  “Dammit!  Another wasted latte!” she slams the small pitcher of cream onto the counter.  

“That for me?” you question over her shoulder, spotting the blob of white draped over the coffee.  You ended up drinking them most of the time, always looking forward to your daily latte handcrafted by Robin.  

Letting a breath out, she hangs her head in defeat.  “It is now.” 

Steve saunters out from the back, stopping in his tracks right next to Robin.  “Another one?  Seriously?” he mutters before continuing to the espresso machine to make probably his fourth drink of the day.  

“When is the new guy scheduled to come in?” you ask as you pour yourself an iced coffee.  Everyone was allowed one free drink a day however it was never enforced unless the owner, Ronnie’s mom was around.  She owned The Under-Ground while her husband owned The Hideout.

“5:30, I think?” Robin answers.  The clock on the register currently reads 5:20.  Steve glances at you, trying to hide a smirk as he quickly looks in the other direction.  

“What?” you demand.  Shaking his head he continues pouring an espresso shot into paper to go cup.  A tug on his sleeve doesn’t get him to budge.  “Steve, why did you give me that look?!” you hound him.  

“Nothing!” he raises his hands in defense, a shit eating grin on his face.  

“Steve.” you narrow your eyes at him, brows knit in frustration.  

“Yeah, Steve.  What do you know that I don’t?” Robin steps towards him while crossing her arms in offense.  

“Nothing!” He lies, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Steve.” Robin glares at him.

“Y’know, this is already getting to me.” he points to his cup.  “I gotta run to the bathroom.” he rushes to the back once again, holding his stomach and pretending to grimace in pain.

“What’s up with him?” you look at Robin, the two of you left standing there without any idea.  She shrugs, handing you the botched latte she just made.  

Pushing aside your theories, you begin setting up for your shift, restocking the cups and making sure there’s enough whip cream in the canister.  The Under-Ground had a very cozy vibe, dark mahogany woods decorating the interior, little twinkly lights draped above the windows, and a snug book nook tucked away in the back corner with large shelves that took up the whole wall.  Accompanying it are a few tables and chairs, their wood matching the counter and on top of each table sits various houseplants that you’d have to remind yourself to water.  

Robin tops off the pastries as she always does at the end of her shift, adding some chocolate croissants, blueberry muffins, brownies, and a brand new lemon loaf to the case.  She finishes off by wiping off the glass with a rag and then ensures the display of gift cards and bags of coffee beans on the counter is dusted off and pristine.  

You busy yourself by restocking the to-go sandwiches in the open cooler at the front of the counter, making a note to also grab a few more parfaits from the back since those were running low as well.  A few books are scattered among one of the tables so you take it upon yourself to collect them and tuck them neatly back on the book shelf.  Other than that, nothing else is left to do and you should be ready to start training the new hire without any distractions.  You reward yourself by sipping on the latte, the bitter taste gracing your tongue and warmth coating your throat.  Robin disappears to the back briefly, coming back out with her bag while shoving her apron into it, ready to clock out the second it hits 5:30.

The roaring of an engine suddenly echoes in the streets, an obnoxious sputtering filling your ears as you glance up and out of the front window.  It comes to a screeching halt as a motorcycle pulls up into one of the parking spots horizontally rather than vertically like the rest of the vehicles.  Jackass, you think to yourself as the owner kicks the kickstand down.  He wears a standard black motorcycle helmet, a leather jacket, ripped black jeans, and some combat boots, a walking stereotype for some kind of punk ass kid.  

Jim Hopper catches him, his cop car parked a few spaces away while he does his crossword in the driver’s seat.  You can’t quite make out what's being said but as Hopper exits his car in a hurry,  you can tell they have most likely had run-ins like this before.  The jackass looks up in aggravation as he still straddles the bike, the sky reflected in the visor of his helmet.  Hopper appears to be telling him off but not giving him a ticket when he most definitely should.  Jackass reparks the bike correctly, gesturing to it as if he’d performed a magic trick, Hopper with a hand on his hip and a scowl on his face.  He points a finger at him, muttering one last thing before retreating back to his own car, eyes never leaving the guy.  

Steve emerges from the back again, carefully.  “Shit.” he mumbles.

Your gaze moves from the scene outside to behind you at Steve who is also now looking out the window.  This provokes you to look back outside.  Just as you’re about to ask, the jackass removes his helmet, revealing a head of wild brunette curls, his hand adorned in chunky rings as he grips the helmet.  Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to inputting some inventory in the computer.  Out of the corner of your eye you can see that he’s making his way toward the door.  “Are you kidding me?” you say under your breath.  

“Thought trendy coffee wasn’t his style.” you say to no one in particular.  Steve inhales as if waiting for some kind of impact.  

“Oh…” Robin says in some kind of realization.  

The bell above the door rings as he swings it open, striding across the shop and in front of the counter, his eyes are a dark abyss as he looks from you to Robin and then to Steve.  

“Munson.” Steve acknowledges him.

“Harrington.” he says back, a tinge of disgust rolling off his tongue.  Robin’s eyes are wide as they shift between you two.

“What do you want, Eddie?” you bite, voice full of malice as you glare up at him.

Bringing his hand to his chest, his face contorting into a mock pout, he sets the helmet on the counter.  “Ouch.  That make you feel better, sweetheart?”  Sarcasm drips from his tone.

You scoff about to tell him to leave but he just continues.  “Make you feel all big and bad?  Get it out of your system yet?” he taunts, a smirk playing on his lips.  

“Oh no.” Robin says quietly, leaning over you to clock out and then subtly making her way around the counter.  

“Why don’t you get the hell out of here and find someone else to dick around with?” you snap, grabbing his helmet and forcing it into his hands. 

A cocky look takes over his features.  “Well what if I’m a paying customer?” 

 “I have the right to refuse service so, I’m refusing.” you can feel anger coursing through your veins, blood running hot.  

“That’s unfortunate.” he frowns, moving to make his way behind the counter.  “For you.” his stare burns into you, two black holes nearly swallowing you up.  

“I don’t have time-” you begin but are cut off when he reaches over you and starts typing away at the computer, clocking in.  His cheap cologne and cigarette smoke flood your nose.

Steve looks at you apologetically as Eddie passes him on his way to the back.  A silence lingers as you process that you’ll be forced to work with the one person in this town you can’t stand.  Eddie Munson was the new hire and of course he had to be scheduled on the closing shift with you.  Life couldn’t get any worse than this, a shitty apartment, and now a shitty job that you used to love combined with mountains of homework.  Your eternal hell.  Work was supposed to be a place you could briefly escape.  Sure it was still work but you didn’t mind.

“Steve!” both you and Robin scold him at the same time.  He squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for more yelling.  

“You knew Ronnie hired him and you just didn’t tell me!” you seethe.  “You could have warned me!  I could have switched shifts or something-or, or–or tell Ronnie he’s a criminal or something!  So he wouldn’t get hired!” your eyes are bulging out of your head as you reprimand the poor guy.  

“Okay, see, the way you're reacting right now doesn’t give me any confidence that you would have reacted any differently if I told you earlier.” Steve explains while clocking out.  

“So you think springing it on her like that was any better!” Robin says loudly.  Steve contemplates for a moment.

“Look, Socks.  I’m sorry.” he apologizes sincerely.  

“Socks?” Eddie stands in the doorway that leads to the back, now free of his leather jacket and wearing a black Metallica tee.  “What kinda fucked up thing did you do for a nickname like that?” he asks, a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, kill me now.” you drag your hands down your face in agony.  Steve and Robin slowly make their way toward the front door, looking at you sympathetically.

“See you tomorrow?” Robin awkwardly points finger guns at you before they speed up and shuffle out the door.

You sigh heavily, dropping your arms limply to your sides.  Turning around, Eddie is about to speak up again but you cut him off. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.  You don’t talk unless it's about work.  I’ll train you today and then I’ll ask Ronnie to move you to mornings or something.” you tell him in one breath.  

He laughs before replying.  “You’d like that wouldn’t you?  Hate to be the bearer of bad news but you’re stuck with me, doll.” he chuckles lowly.  “I only work nights.” he says with that stupid grin.  

“Who did I piss off for this to happen?” you mumble to yourself, rubbing at your temples.  “Put this on.” you shove an apron at his chest.

He grunts at the impact.  “No.” he simply says, refusing to grab it from you.  His expression is blank.

Scoffing, you shove it against him even harder.  “This is work.  We work here.  Stop acting like a damn child.” you say sternly.  

Now taking the apron in his hand, you think he’s finally come to his senses until he bunches it up and tosses it onto one of the counters, eliciting a groan from you.  You were foolish to think he would play nice.

–

Trying to train Eddie was as useful as training a fly.  He didn’t listen and would purposely mess things up claiming he didn’t know any better and he almost charged one of your only customers that night double the actual cost.  It was like watching a toddler, you couldn’t take your eyes away from him or all hell would break loose.  The cherry on top was all the snide comments he would make which led to more bickering.  

When it came to closing time at 9:00, you were exhausted and could practically feel the eyebags hanging off your face.  There was not enough espresso in the world to keep up with Eddie’s antics.  You were counting the money from the register, making sure all was accounted for, Eddie watching as he was supposed to be learning when really he was zoned out.  

“Alright, Socks, are we done here?” he says with a bored tone.  

You glance between him and the cash, still counting under your breath while ignoring him.  Poking your arm, he tries again.  “Socks.  I got things to do.” he continues.  “Hey, I’m talking to you–”

“--Oh my god, just go.” you break, finally completing your counting and setting the money back in the drawer neatly.  

“Fuck yeah.” he whispers, rushing to the back to collect his things.  Pinching the bridge of your nose, you only hope he quits before you have to work another shift with him.  Eddie wasn’t just an asshole, he was the asshole who was partially responsible for your shitty high school experience.  You know it's dumb, there’s no reason to let something keep a hold on you for so long but it just does.  It makes you cringe, it's like the equivalent to peaking in high school but opposite, and yet you can’t seem to look past it.

Nothing but the twinkly lights and the dim overhead lights lit up the shop, a moment of peace taking over you while the town outside laid itself to rest.  Shutting off the music and untying your apron to drape it over your arm, you do one more scan to make sure everything is set for tomorrow.  Satisfied, you head to the back to retrieve your bag.  Eddie passes you, almost running you over on his way out, his stupid helmet in hand.  

“See ya tomorrow, Socks.” he salutes as he clocks out, shortly after you hear the bell chime signaling that he had left.  He was overusing that nickname but you knew it would only please him to call it out.  You had to keep your cool until he figured out he didn’t fit in here and quit.  Exhaling, you unlock your locker, grabbing your bag and tossing your apron in before exiting and heading for the door.  

The door is locked and double checked as you step out onto the sidewalk only to find that it was still raining.  Just my luck.  Eddie’s dumb motorcycle roars to life again a few feet away from you, a nuisance to the tranquil town around you.  Rolling your eyes, you begin your damp journey home.  It’s not until you’re in front of the movie theater that you hear that damn bike behind you.  You think he’s going to speed past you, maybe splash some water on you while he’s at it but the engine rumbles as if right next to you–which it was.  

“Are you lost?” you spit, continuing to walk.  

He rides beside you slowly, irritating you to your core.  “Need a ride home?” he asks, slightly muffled by his helmet.  

You huff before responding.  “No.  I don’t need anything from you.  Get the hell out of here.”  You keep your gaze straight ahead as you walk, him still following behind.

“Sweetheart–”

“--Do NOT call me that.  Ever.  Again.” you scold, taking a moment to point your finger at him, your face displaying disdain toward him.

“Look, I may be an asshole but it's raining.  I can give you a ride.” he coaxes but it doesn’t work.  You keep on, the rain drops collecting on your eyelashes.  

“Get bent, Eddie.” you say, now walking faster, hoping to evade him.

He lifts the visor on the helmet, now showing his eyes as he keeps up with you.  “Get on the damn bike.”

“Fuck you.” you snap at him.

Desperate, you start jogging across the crosswalk and that's when he gives up.  Glancing behind you, he flips the visor down and revs the bike before speeding off.  You weren’t stupid and you weren’t going to play into his little sadist games.  Life was already steamrolling you and you did not need some jackass to factor into it.  After a few minutes of walking, you finally rounded the corner and the faded powder blue apartments came into view, street lights illuminating the way.  The streets were sleek with rain and oil, giving off reflections of the traffic lights and buildings.  You were careful to scurry your way across the parking lot to avoid any of the creeps that hung around late at night.  It wasn’t exactly the best area, being notorious for drug deals and any other illegal side hustles.  

Raphael’s spot on the stairs was vacant due to the downpour which you frowned at, you always looked forward to seeing him upon coming home.  A few skeezy looking men stood nearby however they seemed to be involved in their own drama as they argued and took no interest in you.  Gratefully, you continued quietly up the stairs and hurriedly unlocked the door, jamming the key in the lock until it gave out to you.  

Slipping into your nightly routine, you begin to unwind as much as you can.  A quick shower awaited you since the hot water was limited and you couldn’t wait to munch on one of the sandwiches you snagged from work.  In your defense Ronnie had ordered way too many for the week and the back fridge was overflowing with them.  The local deli they came from, Anderson’s had some fairly good quality meats and cheeses so for that you were thankful as they pretty much kept you fed.  Tonight’s would be turkey and swiss with mayo on sourdough, your favorite.  The lights flickered on as you hit the switch, another quirk that came with the run down apartment.  The living room and entryway were now bathed in a warm and quite dim glow, or in other words if you wanted to read a book, it’d be quite difficult to see.  Shivering from being drenched in rain, you set your bag on the kitchen counter adjacent to the entryway and start taking off your damp clothes, peering into your room to toss them into the hamper and slipping into the bathroom.  It was a tight space, not a whole lot of room to do much but it was home.  

Turning the faucet to ‘hot’, you wait for the water to get warm enough to bear, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom still bothered you no matter how long you lived there.  You stood on the bath mat feeling the water with your finger until it was to your satisfaction, stepping in and feeling welcomed by the sudden warmth you’d been waiting for all day.  In that moment you feel relief from the pressures of the world, the deadlines, bills, loans, essays, all of it.  Everything melts away for approximately three minutes and that's when the water starts to turn cold again, returning you back to the dreadful reality you wish you could neglect.  

But to your dismay, the cycle just starts all over again, keeping you hostage.

~end~

Next ->

Masterlist

tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie x fem reader #eddie x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #barista!eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #the under ground

[obitohno]

pillow talk

hanma shuji x reader

synopsis ⤸

after vowing to loathe hanma for as long as you live, you somehow end up tangled in his bedsheets.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, one night stand, hate sex, sex with feelings, breeding kink, creampies, oral sex, doggy-style, cowgirl, rough sex, unrequited love, one sided love, angst (if you squint), hanma has feelings, mitsuya is your best friend

word count ⤸

7.2k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

so, when i posted a sample of this, some of you were kind enough to say that you liked it enough for me to continue the story. n so, i wrote more, n some more, n then, even more, n now it’s over 7k words, oops. it’s longer than i originally planned it to be, but it’s probably my new favourite out of all of the fics that i’ve written (so far), which may or may not be heavily influenced by the fact that it’s about hanma, hhh. it’s three am here, so i’m definitely not editing today, but i’ll get around to it one day. pls enjoy the full fic, n thank you to those who encouraged me to finish this ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

there are many emotions that you can associate with each time the fates decide to test your misfortunate knack of bumping into hanma shuji, but happiness isn’t one of them. and unfortunately for you, today is yet another of those days.

you’ve never been able to pinpoint the exact reason why the mere sight of his face is enough to irate you, nor are you able to explain why just an utterance of his name influences the instinctive reflex to roll your eyes before you’re able to stop it from happening. most of the time, you like to think of yourself as the better person, but there comes a time when one must simply accept that they are not above disliking someone enough to sneak into the office kitchen to swap the salt with the sugar just to see their arch nemesis grimace into their morning cup of coffee during the weekly team meeting. and there must also come a time when one will be humbled, embarrassed, or suffer at the hands of karma, no matter how much it may sacrifice the reputation of your own ego. or his, for that matter. 

and today is that day. 

you don’t notice anything unusual when you first wake, refusing to open your eyes when you regain enough wit about yourself to recognise the heat of this morning’s sun burning into your right cheek. your left is pressed into the pillow beneath your head, your limbs splayed in all directions under the bedsheets. you can feel a tendril of hair tickling your forehead with each upward breath that is puffed from between your lips, which, with one flick of your tongue, feel dry due to lack of hydration. it is with this discomfort that your eyes finally blink open with great effort, lids drooping with exhaustion. for a long, blissful moment, you’re not conscious enough to recognise that this, in fact, is not your bed. nor is it your bedroom, either. 

that long, blissful moment continues as you move to stifle a yawn with the back of your hand, eyes blinking to regain some sort of coherency. only then, do you realise that your prone form is tangled in a mess of grey, silken bedsheets that do not belong to you. instantly, your spine stiffens, rigid with the brief flicker of anxiousness that has rendered you frozen. this pause stretches for far longer than what is probably deemed necessary, and before you take a proper look around you, you’re throwing the sheets back and stumbling from the ridiculously comfortable mattress, almost tripping over your own feet in your panic. there’s a bedside table that looks to be carved from an expensive oak—the sight of which makes your nose turn up—but nonetheless, it is what you reach out for when your ankle rolls painfully and you stifle a yelp by pushing your top row of teeth into the plush cushioning of your bottom lip. only, it seems that it’s unnecessary for you to catch your balance on the bedside table, but at that exact moment, the other occupant of the room reaches out and curls their fingers around your wrist in order to steady your balance. 

this time, you do scream; a stressed noise that even makes you wince, and you yank your wrist free whilst simultaneously losing said balance and landing hard on the ground. the impact forces a shocked grunt from your mouth, but you’re not focused on that, because you’ve now realised that you’ve awoken—as naked as the day you were born—in the bed of someone you do not know. 

except, the fates decide to prove you wrong, because the stranger breaks the silence, speaking in a low baritone that has served nothing but to aggravate you in every single possible way for the past decade. 

‘what you doin’ down there?’ 

and then, a shock of dark hair—mixed with bleached strands of golden-yellow—appears within your line of sight as he peers over the edge of the mattress to eye your sprawled form on the floor. heavily lidded eyes dance across your naked skin, but you’re too busy gawking at him in horror to recognise the flicker of arousal that passes over his features. when your jaw finally has the mind to stop hanging open, it snaps shut and your brows lower, pulling together as you glower up at him, thrusting an accusatory index finger in his face. 

‘you!’ 

and he, in typical hanma fashion, smirks. mockingly, he raises his own hand to point at his own bare chest, his other palm occupied by the weight of his head as he leans on it, appearing very comfortable with looking down at you. ‘me?’ he drawls, smirk widening when you finally recognise that you’re not wearing any clothes, and you rush to sit up, hands scrambling to grip the bedsheets and yank them from the bed in a desperate attempt to hide your nakedness from his greedy eyes. in doing so, though, you’d failed to think of the possibility that he’d be just as naked as you are, and your cheeks are lit aflame upon the sight of his cock, semi-hard against the crook of his thigh, nestled amongst a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. he isn’t nearly as embarrassed as you are—in fact, he only seems to be amused at your current predicament—and he simply lazes across the bare mattress, the corners of his eyes stretching slightly as he grins wide enough to bare his teeth at you. the sight makes your stomach twist with something that isn’t quite like disgust, but you promptly ignore it in favour of glaring at his stupid, smug face instead. 

‘y-you!’ you splutter again, recognising the burning feeling of anger quickly settling in the centre of your chest. your voice is shrill as you demand, ‘what the hell are you doing here!?’ 

he looks at you pointedly, a single, black eyebrow quirking up toward his hairline, ‘i live here?’

you have nothing to say to that, so instead, you redirect your anger toward the very obvious elephant in the room—how in the hells did you end up in his room? his bed? when you voice these questions aloud, you watch his eyebrows pinch together in what you can only describe as thinly veiled annoyance. 

‘what? you don’t remember?’ 

he sounds angrier than you’d expected, but it only fuels your own irritation, an emotion that isn’t foreign to you, especially when it concerns him. ‘obviously not,’ you snap at him, eyes wandering over the expanse of his thighs, all the way down to his ankles. you follow the lines and curves of his muscles as he pushes himself upright, eyes narrowing down at you. 

it’s no secret that the two of you don’t get along. you’d immediately taken to disliking him when you first met as teenagers, and it appeared that he’d felt the same. then, you’d graduated from university, and you had made the mistake of thinking that you had finally escaped from seeing his insufferable face every damned day, only to have the misfortune of accepting a secretarial role at one of the largest law firms in the country, and being introduced to the senior partner, hanma-fucking-shuji, on the very first day. and, much like in his teenage years, hanma had made sure to live up to his infuriating nickname—the reaper—and has continued to make your life a living hell ever since. 

and, of course, he hasn’t earned the role of senior partner for no reason. last night had been the celebration of yet another big win added to hanma’s ever growing repertoire, and this time, it had been the much awaited end to a very public murder trial that had stretched on for far too long, in your opinion. and despite the fact that you’d dramatically announced that you’d rather die than celebrate anything associated with the most insufferable man on the planet, it was kokonoi and mitsuya who had dragged you along anyway. you’d been tucked away in the corner, sitting on the plush velvet seat that had looked like it had cost more than your monthly rent, and when mitsuya had politely suggested that you at least fake a smile every once in a while, instead, you had grumbled every curse under the sun. 

after that, you don’t remember a thing. 

so, for reasons unimaginable to you—because, really, you had no idea as to why you would subject yourself any sort of company with him of all people—you’re now sat on hanma’s bedroom floor, wrapped in a thin, silken bedsheet that looks as obnoxious as his face does, absolutely mind boggled as to how you ended up in this situation. 

you must have really pissed someone off in a past life. 

begrudgingly, you meet hanma’s gaze, and in a voice so minute that he has to strain to hear you, you dare to ask, ‘uh…? did we—?’ you motion a hand between the two of you, and if possible, his frown deepens. 

he leans closer to the edge of the bed, golden orbs staring down at you, hard. ‘you really don’t remember?’ you shrug, nose crinkling into a grimace. he pauses, gaze distant as if he’s seeing right through you, and then he scoffs out a, ‘huh.’ then, instead of answering you, he rises from the bed and steps over you to make his way over to the built in wardrobe that dominates the opposing wall. he doesn’t answer your question, but with the alarming lack of clothing involved throughout this entire exchange, and with the familiar ache that is nestled deep into the muscles of your thighs when you shift your legs, you already know the answer. dread spreads across your entire chest, and you belatedly think to yourself: what the fuck have i done? 

hanma? of all people? hanma-fucking-shuji? how, and most importantly, why? why can’t you remember a thing from last night—surely you hadn’t drank that much? and why in the hells didn’t you go home with mitsuya, as you’d promised to earlier that night? at this thought, you frown, and you wonder if mitsuya even knows where you are. the thought of him panicking upon your disappearance makes your stomach fill with nauseating guilt, strands of hair gluing themselves to back of your neck that seems to get clammier and clammier with each passing second. your eyes skip across the vastly large room, searching for your handbag, which you hope that you’d had enough sense to bring with you, and your shoulders sag with relief when you spot it, dumped at the foot of the bed. however, before you’re able to make a beeline toward it, you’re distracted by hanma flinging one of the wardrobe doors open, and he looks at you from over the crook of his shoulder as if he hasn’t just flashed you an eyeful of his bollocks swinging between his legs, his expression touching upon an eerie shade of cold, ‘you should leave. wouldn’t want you to get caught with the reaper, now, would we?’ 

you don’t hesitate to do as he says. scrambling to find your clothes laying in a crumpled pile next to your handbag, you hurriedly pull the crinkled fabric of your work dress over your head, chucking your bra and stockings into the handbag and feet rushing you toward the bedroom door. you feel his eyes watching you from his spot by the wardrobe, your cheeks heating upon the realisation that he is yet to dress himself. 

pausing by the door with your handbag haphazardly thrown over your shoulder, you loiter, pointedly refusing to look at his naked form as you mumble a very hesitant thanks. you may be mortified that it was him, of all people, that you chose to have a one night stand with—albeit one that you cannot remember—but you also can’t deny that it was also him that made sure you had somewhere safe to stay for the night. he could’ve easily kicked you out after having his way with you, and yet, for a reason far beyond your capabilities to think about right now, he let you stay within the comfort of his bed, which, you are loathe to admit that it is, in fact, a very comfortable bed. 

in response, he echoes your thanks with a laugh that sounds anything but genuine. he jabs a thumb in the direction of the door, and orders, ‘i’ve got shit to do. fuck off.’ 

shame and irritation immediately boil your blood, and you have half a mind to give him the ear-thrashing that he has had coming for a long time, but right now, you’d love nothing more than to rid yourself of his presence, and so you turn away, yanking on the door handle and shuffling out into the hallway. you don’t look back to realise that he’s still staring after you. 

you find your heels thrown on the floor by the entrance door, and you ignore the churning of your stomach when you retrieve one of them from its place on top of his evidently expensive pair of brogues. said heels are shoved onto your feet and as fast as your newly forming headache will allow, you leave the apartment, door slamming shut behind you. 

once you’re waiting inside the elevator, you use the time to travel down six floors to straighten your clothes in a bid to make it look like that you’re not currently performing the walk of shame. and once you make it past a very awkward smile shared with the receptionist at the front desk, you’re out onto the street, one hand smoothing down the messy tendrils of hair that billow in the morning breeze, the other, dialling mitsuya’s phone number. the phone doesn’t even manage to ring twice when he picks up with an immediate urgency, and you are made aware that he’s been trying to call you all fucking night, where the hell have you been?! five minutes later and he’s still spewing on about how close he was to calling the police and reporting you missing, but as much as you love him for loving you enough to be this worried about you, you have far more pressing news to share. 

‘’suya,’ you interrupt his angry ramble, pressing the button at the traffic lights as you await the signal to cross. ‘you’ll never guess what’s just happened—’

and for the next twenty minutes, you inform him of the circumstances of your whereabouts. by the time you finish, you’re already halfway through your journey home. 

‘no fucking way,’ mitsuya blurts in a way that is very un-mitsuya-like.

he then proceeds to tell you that after sulking in the corner of the booth for majority of the party, you’d suffered an uncharacteristic bout of alcoholism, and had drank so much that both mitsuya and kokonoi had caught you—still somehow standing upright—sneaking off to the bathroom to vomit. however, after you’d fallen over for the third time, kokonoi had made the decision to send you home via taxi. you’d stepped outside to clear your head, and mitsuya, the gentleman that he is, had accompanied you as you’d sat on the curb with your head pressed between your knees. his role, surprisingly, had been replaced by none other than hanma-fucking-shuji, who had stepped out for a cigarette and had offered to watch you whilst mitsuya went back inside to say his goodbyes. but when he returned, neither you nor hanma were in sight. 

‘i really thought this was gonna be like one of those documentaries where i’d keeping waiting for you to come home, but instead, the police find you dead in some dude’s bin,’ he says quietly down the phone, and despite the need to tell him that his imagination couldn’t be any more far-fetched, you feel the familiar burn when your eyes prickle with fresh tears. you swallow down the lump that forms in the back of your throat, mumbling a soft apology into the microphone, which he laughs off, voice shaking as he says, ‘it’s about time, anyway.’ 

your lips part, ready to question what he means by that, the wind picks up and billows the skirt of your dress around your thighs, and because of this, the air blows into a place where you really shouldn’t be able to feel the wind. this is when you are suddenly hit with the horrifying realisation that in your earlier panic, there is one item that you had failed to retrieve from hanma’s apartment. 

your underwear. 

卍

it wouldn’t be until three weeks have passed before you next encounter hanma. 

for exactly sixteen days, and counting, you do your upmost to avoid bumping into the ‘absolute beanpole-freak of a man’ as baji had once summarised hanma’s stature when he’d decided to join in on your rant to kokonoi after overhearing you whilst passing by in the hallway. 

the entire office is aware of the mutual rivalry between the two of you, which explains why most of them are baffled as to why you’ve suddenly halted your efforts to slander hanma’s name at every given opportunity, and have instead resorted to either paling by a few shades or stammering a lame excuse—which usually consists of very little coherency—and making a swift exit from the conversation. it was only after chifuyu had reported to the group that you’d said that you had to leave early because your pet cat was having a tooth removed, that kokonoi had later called that evening to tell you to ‘get your shit together’. 

you don’t even own a pet cat, for fuck’s sake. 

if you’re being completely honest, you’re surprised that you’ve managed to avoid him for this long. usually, you arrive at the office long before it opens to the public, which, unfortunately for you, is also the exactly time that hanma likes to arrive, usually wasting most of his free time to annoy you by interfering with your daily routine. once, after a particularly bitter argument in front of the entire office body—caused by him ‘accidentally’ tripping over and spilling freshly brewed coffee all over your work tablet—he’d spent the remainder of the day sporting a very large, bright red sore after you’d retaliated by throwing the desktop mouse straight at his ‘stupid fucking face’.

he’d thrown in an empty threat (or two) to have charges pressed against you, before retracting it when your eyes had glistened an interesting shade of pink, all with a smug grin plastered to that stupid fucking face of his. 

but this week, you’ve resorted to travelling to work with baji and nahoya, who, by almost everyone’s standards, are late to work everyday. 

it’s far from ideal to arrive to work after the clock reads past nine am, but you’d rather be reprimanded for tardiness than to risk the alternative. 

but it seems that a few of your coworkers are becoming a tad concerned by your behaviour, as on the seventeenth day, you are called into your manager’s office. at first, you fear that you really are in trouble, but those anxieties are quickly quashed when he asks if you’re faring well. it is only after that you repeatedly insist that yes, you are fine, and thank you, but no, there’s no need for him to lighten your workload because you promise that you are not stressed, and yes, you’ll tell him if you need any assistance, and sorry, but you don’t know what’s on the lunch menu for wednesday, does he finally allow you to leave. after this, you do your best to act as normal as possible, but you clearly fail in doing so, because this only results in another call back to your manager’s office the very next day. 

in the end, you throw yourself into your work, hoping that it’ll serve as a much needed distraction. it works for the majority of days eighteen, nineteen and twenty, but when you breach the third week, that is when your luck runs out. 

you’ve stayed late to finish up some notes that haven’t yet been submitted, but when you need to use the printer, you are frustrated to find that it won’t switch on, despite checking all of the nearby plug socks, and pressing every damn button on the blasted machine. after fighting with the printer for a good fifteen minutes, eventually, you huff a curse under your breath and decide to leave to use the machine on the floor above you, but not without delivering a swift kick to the base on your way. 

this late in the evening, the building is quiet—too quiet—and it’s almost a little eerie as you click, clack your way over to the elevator. there are probably only a few other stragglers within the entire building, so it doesn’t take long before the doors are sliding open to allow you inside. you reach the upper floor within seconds, which you could’ve easily made on foot, but you’re feeling far too lazy for that. once you locate the printer, you set to work on making sure that everything is switched on correctly. you’re balancing on the tips of your heels to reach the plug socket when, suddenly, there’s a large tattooed hand brushing the the curve of your waist, before it tightens to hold you in place. the other hand closes over your mouth to muffle the shriek that gets stuck in the back of your throat. pulse  hammering, your spine stiffens when there’s a warm weight that presses to the round of your behind, trapping you against the printer. 

a pair of lips ghost over the shell of your ear, ‘you’re avoidin’ me.’ 

you’d never have thought that you’d ever be relieved to hear hanma’s voice, but the second that you recognise him to not be a random stranger breaking into the office to have their way with you, your spine relaxes for a short moment before your relief quickly morphs into the shape of anger. enraged by his audacity to not only sneak through the office to catch you off guard, but it’s multiplied by the fact that he’s also dared to put his hands on you in a way that would look compromising to anyone who may walk past. you also despise the fact that after three weeks of working hard to avoid him, it’s all been undone with just one whisper into your ear. 

you glance down and recognise the black inking of the kanji for ‘punishment’. how fitting. 

despite the fact that he can’t see the look on your face, your eyes roll and before he sees it coming, you bend your right arm and elbow him as hard as your strength will allow. he grunts, hand falling from your face, but to your surprise, he maintains his hold on your waist, long fingers biting through the fabric of your blouse. the hand that displays the kanji for ‘sin’ traces up the length of your throat before it curls, index finger stroking along the length of your jugular. ‘behave,’ he murmurs, hot breath fanning the curve of your cheek as his lips follow, huffing a short laugh when you attempt to elbow him again. this time, he’s prepared and he doesn’t even flinch when the sharp edge of your elbow collides with his rib cage. instead, his fingers twitch against your neck, and he hums happily, ‘so fuckin’ sexy.’ he emphasises the last word with a nudge of his groin against your backside, accompanied with a phantom of a moan that you’d’ve missed if not for the fact that his lips are now pressed to your temple. 

his words only fuel your irritation, which only just masks the fact that the position he has you in is starting to affect you. not that you’re ever going to admit it aloud—especially not to him. 

‘fuck you,’ you spit at him from over your shoulder. 

he sneers down at you, humming as he shifts his hips, and you hate the fact that when you feel the hardened shape of his length grinding into your thigh, it encourages the heat that is slowly beginning to burn between your legs. ‘fuck me?’ he repeats, sin now sliding over your skin to grip the back of your neck, roughly shoving you forward so that your chest presses into the hard surface of the machine below you. there, he easily holds you in place with one hand, and he towers over you from behind, hips pressed flushed to your backside. ‘you’ve fucked me before,’ he hisses, punishment trailing a long index finger down the length of your spine, which, to your horror, instinctively arches to encourage his touch. you almost hope think that he’s going to grab at your ass, but instead, he croons mockingly into the shell of your ear, ‘or don’t you remember?’ 

you freeze under him, recognising the barely concealed fury that is laced between each syllable that leaves his mouth. 

so that’s what this is about. 

you don’t get to dwell on the subject of his bruised ego, because he’s grabbing at you once again, spinning you around until you’re both stood chest-to-chest. you barely have a second to crane your neck to glare up at him before he’s gripping your jaw and angling your head so that your neck stretches towards him. your hands fly to shove at his chest, to no avail, because he’s built like a brick wall, apparently. 

instead, you resort to simply slapping his hand away, ‘don’t fucking touch me.’ 

he’s silent as he glowers down at you through the lenses of his glasses, regarding your expression for just a few, short seconds, before he steps back. you dare not acknowledge the disappointment you feel at the loss of his warmth. just when his stare starts to feel a tad uncomfortable, he smooths a hand through his hair, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. he’s frowning, lips parting as if he has something that he wishes to say, before he clearly thinks the better of it as his mouth closes again. he nods once, whether to you or to himself, you’re not sure. 

‘fine,’ he says shortly. 

and then before you’re able to respond, he’s turning on his heel and disappearing down the hall. you stare, long after he’s walked out of your line of sight. the heat that’s built deep within your gut eventually simmers, but it takes longer that you care for, and it takes even longer for you to remember what you were doing on this floor in the first place. twenty minutes later, you’ve finished your work for the night and you’re just locking the office door before you make your way home, when one thought repeatedly circles through your mind: 

you forgot to ask for your underwear back. 

卍

somehow, it happens again. 

this time, you wake to a finger stroking over the curve of your cheek and tickling the baby hairs back from your forehead. the sensation makes you stir, brows pulling together as your eyes slowly peel open. exhausted, your eyelids are heavy, and it takes a few blinks to recognise that, once again, you’ve awoken in a bed that doesn’t belong to you. 

this time, however, your foggy mind is able to put together the blurred memories from the previous night: 

you’d attended a dinner with your colleagues, who’d later suggested continuing the night at the club down the road. it’d taken some convincing, but you’d agreed, only to immediately regret it because during the short walk down the road, you’d bumped into another office party who, by chance, were also making their way over to the very same club. you hadn’t recognised any of these people, except for the one golden-eyed man who had glanced at you once, twice, before turning his cheek and pretending that you weren’t there. that had been fine with you; two of you could play that game. 

except, this game didn’t last for very long. 

once the newly-extended party had reached the club, it hadn’t taken all of one hour before the two of you had engaged in a heated argument outside of the club, and in one moment, you were yelling every insult under the sun and in the next, he was backing you against the wall and shoving his tongue down your throat. 

a warm puff of breath is fanned across your face and your nose crinkles. 

not again, you want to cry aloud, but your words die on the tip of your tongue when you blink up to see a familiar pair of golden-coloured eyes already focused on you, apprehension pinching his brows together. you’re unable to stop yourself from sighing, eyes drifting to where the bedsheets pool at his bare waist. you don’t have to look under the fabric to know that you’re also not wearing any clothes. you decide that you lack the energy to start an argument this early in the morning, so instead, you simply lay there with your eyes closed. 

lying this close to him, you can hear each draw of breath into his nostrils and you feel each exhale blowing gently across the side of your face. it’s peaceful, despite the fact that you’re a little unnerved by his uncharacteristic quietude. but, all too soon, he breaks the silence by shifting next to you, and the mattress first dips, then raises as it eases without his weight. you listen to the bedroom door opening and swinging shut, and only then do your eyes peel open. you’re alone in the bedroom, and for a reason unknown to you, your heart hammers away in your chest. just like the last time, there’s an ache set deep within the muscles of your thighs, and you can’t stop your mind from drifting to recall the night before. you’re so deeply immersed into your thoughts that you almost miss the sound of his footsteps approaching the room. when he enters, the door hasn’t even fully closed before he’s burying himself back under the covers, the full length of his body pressing as close to you as possible. you have half the mind to shove him away, but you are betrayed by your own body, which welcomes the arm that snakes under your neck and pulls you closer. your right cheek is smushed into his shoulder, the rough impact making your teeth knock together. 

‘’m tired,’ he grumbles, low voice even deeper when thick with sleep. the sound vibrates across his chest and dances down your eardrum, your own breath tickling its way across his collarbone. in response to him, you hum a noncommittal noise. 

the fact that you’re cuddling up to the one man who you had sworn to hate for the rest of your life is one that makes your gut churn with the niggling feeling that this isn’t how things work between the two of you. the majority of the past decade has been spent fighting, shouting and cursing each other to hell and back, and although your life would be much easier without the stress that is hanma shuji, you also can’t deny that since you’d awoken in his bed all those weeks ago, it’s all you’ve thought about. he’s insufferable, yes, and on more than one occasion, you’ve loved nothing more than to slap away the smug smile that is perpetually glued to his face. but even you must admit that something has changed between the two of you. what, exactly, you cannot be sure, but you aren’t given the chance to question it, because the pads of his fingers are bumping under your chin and when you blink at him through sleep-laden eyelids, his gentle expression is one that you’d never thought him capable of. 

‘tired,’ he repeats, his own eyelids drooping as his gaze lowers to your mouth, ‘don’t wanna fight.’ 

and that’s when you realise that you’re tired too. 

it must’ve shown on your face because something flickers within those golden orbs of his, and then he’s tilting his head so that his lips ghost over yours. there’s a soft brush, before they press to yours properly, his fingers firming against your chin as he holds you in place. to your surprise, he kisses you lazily, very much unlike how he’d kissed you last night, and as much as you’d enjoyed what you’d received the night before, this kiss makes your toes curl. his tongue probes to caress yours, and although you probably taste of day-old alcohol and the stale flavour of sleep, he breathes a moan when you return his efforts. 

your skin is enveloped with the smell of him, the taste of him, the warmth of him, and it isn’t long before you begin to feel your pulse throbbing between your legs. his hand moves from your chin to stroke his thumb to the length of your neck, and you press closer, legs shifting beneath the bedsheets. as if sensing your hesitation, he encourages your intentions by slipping one long leg between yours and suddenly, his arousal presses to the crook of your thigh, his length burning as hot as you are. your clit throbs harder, and you move so that you’re propped by your elbow, now leaning over him. this position allows you to kiss him deeper, your free hand reaching to push back the longer strands of hair from his face. 

his forehead feels feverish beneath your fingers, and soon, his kisses burn as hot as his skin does. 

a hand strokes your thigh and then tugs. ‘c’mere,’ he murmurs into your mouth. he positions your body over his own, your thighs straddling his hips. your cunt is pressed flush against his cock and he’s unable to muffle the groan that escapes him when his tip glides through your slick folds until the blunt edge bumps your clit. you whimper against his lips before his tongue languidly slides along yours. you lose yourself to his attentions and when his hips begin to slowly roll underneath yours, you pull your mouth from his to mewl quietly into the crook of his neck. 

the head of his cock repeatedly knocks your clit and one particularly harsh thrust has you crying out a tad louder than you’d expected. the sound has the corners of his mouth curling upward, and he doubles his efforts, hips canting harder with each thrust. you keen, eyes screwed shut tight as your fingers cling to his shoulders, and you moan his name, to which he responds with a low growl and a nip to your collarbone. your arousal coats his erection, which aids the one thrust that has him prodding at your hole. it clenches instinctively, and then, it’s stretching with the thickness of his girth as he fills you. 

once sheathed, his hips still, his hands stroking and tickling wherever that he can reach, which, with those long arms of his, is everywhere. your tongue is inside his mouth once more, your fingers clutching, tangling and pulling at his hair and he groans, girth twitching deep inside you. his hips jump once more, and then his length is caressing your inner walls, and each time he sheathes himself inside you, your clit drags along the texture of his pubic hair, the sensation clenching your walls tight around him. his breath stutters and he moans, ‘fuck, baby, just like that.’ his paces quickens, and his voice trembles with his efforts as he whispers filthy promises into your ear. ‘gonna fuckin’ fill you,’ he coos happily, ‘you gonna let me breed you, huh?’ you clench around him again, ‘f-fuck, baby, pretty little pussy’s gonna fuckin’ milk me dry.’ 

he pants heavily, and the power behind his thrusts makes your thighs shake in an effort to stay upright. the room is filled with the clapping of his pelvis colliding with your own, his balls slapping your ass as he plunges deep into you. you can do nothing more than desperately clutch at him as he drills into you, the heavy weight of his cock claiming the hot cavern of your cunt as its own. rapidly, you reach your peak and as you tip over the edge, you exclaim your pleasure around the syllables of his name. this apparently pleases him, and his biceps flex when his arms wrap around your middle, holding you right against him. he continues to rut into you, your cream staining a white ring around the base of his girth. 

he groans a long, drawn out noise that has you suspecting that he must be nearing his limit. 

you couldn’t be more wrong. 

just as you’re teetering on the edge of another rapidly building orgasm, it’s interrupted by the sudden schlick of his cock tugging free from your hole. your surprise comes in the form of a sharp yelp, only to morph into a squeak when he flips the both of you over and rises to sit on his haunches. 

‘get on your knees,’ he orders, and usually, when you aren’t drunk on arousal, you would’ve reprimanded him. but, this time, his bossiness only turns you on more, and you scramble to turn away from him to position you body so that your knees dig into the mattress. a large, warm hand presses to the small of your back, guiding you until it arches, your press pressing into a pillow. ‘baby, baby, baby,’ he moans, fingers dancing over the sensitive skin on the back of your thighs. you’ve never been one for pet names, but the way he praises you makes your clit tighten when it pulses. there’s a pause, and you feel your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of being watched, and for the first time, you feel self conscious. but, when you try to curl in on yourself, you’re stopped by the mattress shifting once more, and then he’s pressing the flat of his tongue over your slit, and sucking. a breath hitches in the back of your throat, and if not for the strong grip holding your legs apart, you would’ve snapped your thighs shut together. instead, his tongue encourages you to rock your hips, and his teeth graze your clit, throbbing an electrifying heat throughout your entire body. 

‘oh my god—shuji,’ his name slips from between your lips before you can stop it, and upon realising what you’ve just said, you freeze. the tongue delving between your folds, however, does not. he’s loud and messy as he sucks at your clit, and he hums, the vibrations making your toes curl. at some point, he gives your clit a break, and instead plunges his tongue into your hole as far as it’ll reach. this stretch feels a tad strange, but still just as good, and you cry out when he repeats the action, curling his tongue inside you. 

already, your second orgasm is building and you chant the words, ‘gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna—a-ah—!’ 

your entire body shudders, and the pillow muffles your scream before it is ripped away from under your head and you have no choice but to sob out into the open air.  

your pussy clenches around nothing, and hanma watches your essence creams out from your tight hole, dripping a puddle onto his bedsheets, his palming fisting at his cock as he does so. licking at his lips, he rises above you, and smiles when he grinds the blunt head of his cock past the opening of your cunt, and watches as you greedily suck him back in. he moans along with you as he fucks into you over and over again, cursing when your cream messily marks his cock as yours. 

fuck, he thinks he’s in love. 

his eyes bore into the centre of your back, and he’s momentarily distracted by the thought of just how long he’s dreamt of doing this with you. distracted by the memory of how fucking embarrassed and hurt he’d felt when he’d finally gotten you into his bed and you hadn’t remembered how you’d gotten there. distracted by the memory of the lonely nights that followed your avoidance of him, his hands no longer being good enough to placate the ache in his chest during those lonely nights, all because nothing—no-one—has ever made him cum like you do. ten years, it has taken to get you to want him like how he’s wanted you all this time. ten fucking years, he’s pathetically lusted and pined for you, and now that you’re finally letting him touch you in the way he’s wanted to touch you since you were both nineteen years old, he’s no longer willing to let you pretend that there’s nothing between you. 

a harsh thrust has your fingers curling into the sheets, back arching further as your hips start to rock in time with him. he breathes hard between his teeth, fingers bruising the soft skin of your hips as he pistons himself so deep inside you that you squeal, a shrill, elated noise that makes his balls tighten with the promise of his approaching orgasm. he doesn’t want it to end yet, so he slows in a attempt to last longer, but you shatter his plans when his birth name is panted from your kiss-swollen lips and with that, a yell of euphoria bursts from his mouth. his cock jerks and he breeds your cavern full of his seed, the thick, white ropes painting your inner walls white. you drain him for everything that he has, pussy repeatedly clenching and unclenching, milking every drop from him. he struggles to catch his breath for a long time afterwards, pulse drumming away in his ears. when his blood finally simmers, he slowly pulls from the addicting heat of you with a soft moan of protest. his cock is still half hard, weakly twitching with interest when a large glob of his seed breeches your hole and he watches, awed, as it slides between your cum soaked folds before it joins the mess that you made on the bed earlier. 

he licks his lips, and your taste still clings to the inside of his cheeks. eyelids drooping, he relishes in your flavour, and he’s tempted to have another taste. his prick encourages the idea with another jerk, the muscle jumping between his legs as it furiously engorges with blood. again. he waits until you regain the energy to move, before he tries to kiss you again with a hesitancy that makes your brows quirk upwards. he’s half expecting you to reject him, so he’s pleasantly surprised when you readily accept his mouth moulding to the shape of yours. the sliding of your fingers across his scalp coaxes a low hum from the back of his throat, and he easily pulls you onto his lap, arms tightening around your waist. 

he’s spent over a decade trying to get your attention, and now that he finally has it, he’s going to make sure you remember this time. 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡ #tr x reader #tr smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #hanma x reader #hanma x you #hanma smut #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji x you #hanma shuji smut

[bridgyrose]

Please continue a soul of a weapon au pls

Martyn sighed as he closed the dorm door. “Really Ember? Couldnt come up with a better name? Now they know who we are!” 

“Not like you’re much better, Myrtenaster.” Ember rolled her eyes and sat down. “Besides, you look like you could be Weiss’s twin brother. At least Veil and Luna only look vaguely like Blake and Ruby.” 

“And what about our plan? If they figure it out-” 

“No one will realize what’s going on until its too late,” Veil said. “We’ll assume their lives, make them into our weapons, and leave before anyone has a clue to what happened to Team RWBY.” 

Martyn looked over at Veil, eyeing her. “And you’re sure we can still pull this off? They’re going to start looking into what happened to us! There’s almost no chance they know we’re missing!” 

“And what exactly are they supposed to do about it?” Luna asked as she took her cloak off. “Its not a secret about who we are and its not one we were ever going to be able to keep. We know team RWBY better than anyone since we have a portion of their souls in us. We can deal with them without anyone causing trouble.” 

“Then we’ll deal with their leader first.” 

Luna paused for a moment. “Deal with their leader… but that’ll alert them to what’s going on!” 

“And it’ll make them fall apart.” Martyn sat down on his bed to study in a similar way Weiss would. “We turn Ruby first, get her out of the way and watch the rest of the team fall apart and deal with them after. Yang will probably be the next issue if Ruby’s gone, which will leave Blake and Weiss for us after.” 

“Yeah, but we’re not really going to go through with this, are we?” 

Veil shrugged and started to untie their ribbons. “Why does it matter? You heard Nocturne, we need to get them out of the way for any real change to happen.” 

“And you trust her?” 

“None of us do, sis,” Ember said as she put a hand on Luna’s shoulder. “But, we dont have a choice in the matter. Besides, dont you want to know what it’s like to live instead of being used?” 

Luna sighed and looked down at her feet. “Yeah…” 

“Then its settled.” Martyn smirked a bit and tossed a small necklace to Luna. “Get Ruby to wear this and she’ll become your weapon and you can live the life you want.” 

Luna fingered the necklace and slowly nodded. “Y-yeah… I’ll… I’ll do it.” 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weiss pored over page after page of every book she could get her hands on related to weapons and souls, looking for anything to explain what had happened to their weapons. Nothing had made any sense to her anymore, and trying to find anything about weapons becoming people had only led her down a rabbit hole of fairy tales and legends. 

Ruby sat down next to her and moved a mug of coffee to her teammate. “How much longer are you going to do this?” 

“As long as it takes until I can understand what is going on.” Weiss pulled away from the book she was reading and took a sip of her coffee. “Weapons dont just become people, right? Something had to happen to them. Or… they’re not really our weapons at all and just people who look like us, right?” 

“I think maybe its time to take a break from it.” 

“Maybe.” Weiss leaned back in her chair a bit and let out a heavy sigh as she went back to the books she was reading. “But what good will that do us? I mean, we cant be huntresses without weapons and if we cant find them… then what? We just make new ones?” 

“Well, that is one option.” Ruby fidgeted with her own mug as she took a sip. “Though… it might be our only option soon. Assuming we cant find them first. Which wouldnt be too bad. I mean, I’ve been thinking about making a few upgrades to Crescent Rose anyway.” 

“I cant just remake Myrtenaster. Its all I have left from my grandfather before he got sick.” 

“I….  didnt know…” 

“Its fine.” Weiss flipped through a few more pages and then shut the book she was reading. “But… you’re right, I should take a bit of a break from this. I’m not getting anywhere and the more I read, the more I feel like I’m losing it.” 

“Meet you back in the dorm then?” 

Weiss nodded and started to gather up the books she had started to look through, pausing as she looked one over one more. She flipped through it, reading through a few pages about a legend of a weapon becoming a person. She closed the book once more and sighed as she stacked it with the others. “A little rest and then I can pick this up again. I need to get Myrtenaster back.” 

#ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #weiss schnee #rwby #drabbles #a soul of a weapon au #a soul of a weapon #this is going to get fun

[mlmxreader]

More Time | William Guarnere x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: hehehe

“No one told me that hiding my love life would be so fucking difficult” (with affectionately meddling easy co pls)

“What have we gotta do to get some time to ourselves?”

"Just steal my clothes, I don't mind."

"I just need a bit of affection"

for my love, my darling, my soldier boy, bill guarnere x m!reader? ty hehe

summary: a pilot and a soldier have very little time together, and with men from both regiments trying to get involved, the pressure and the lack of time are slowly starting to get to you both.

tws: swearing, smoking

Ever since the training grounds, you and Bill had been extremely close, with the closeness afforded to your relationship more than anything; an RAF pilot, your fate was to go up into the air sooner than he would be shipped off, and although you didn't want the time to end, you were determined to make the most of it, both of you were. No one knew about your relationship, partially because you both knew that your time together would come to an end, but also because neither of you wanted to deal with the stress that often came with having all the boys know about it; sure, Easy Company would mean well, but you dreaded to think of the pestering and the treasing that would inevitably come with it, and as for your boys... they were mostly the same. Nikolaj, your right hand man, would be the worst; he would mean well, but there was no doubt in your mind that he would be teasing about it. The same as your commanding officer, Mohinder.

Nikolaj and Mohinder were good men, they were more than supportive when you first told them that you were queer, and you had to admit that you did adore them; but there was so much pressure and stress that you and Bill both agreed - it was best no one knew anything. Even though Winters and Nixon were good men, even though Nikolaj and Mohinder were good men. It was better to keep it hidden; maybe if you both made it through the war, maybe if you both met again when the fascist scum were all dead, maybe you could be open about it then. When you had more time, when you didn't have to stress about it so much.

Sighing heavily, Bill made his way to Mohinder's office, where he knew you would be hanging out, as you often did when the commanding officer was meeting with others; he looked around, and upon spotting a picture of the officer's wife at their wedding, he smiled a little. He'd hoped maybe one day you would be his husband, if your time together could continue. He ran a hand through his hair, took a look around, and almost grinned when he spotted you; sat at the desk, you had your feet up and you were relaxed in the chair, a pile of neatly stacked papers beside you.

"Everythin' alright?"

Bill nodded, sitting on the windowsill and lighting a cigarette, he cracked open a window. Unlike Winters' quarters, Mohinder's smelled of coffee, and when he saw the cup of it sat atop the papers, Bill understood why. "Yeah, just... y'know, Winters told me I should ask you out again."

You laughed softly, taking your feet off of the desk so that you could lean forward and take a swig from the coffee. You nodded slowly, licking your lips and hummed softly. "Mohinder told me to ask you out, too."

He bit at the inside of his lip as he smiled, hanging his head for a moment. "No one told me that hiding my love life would be so fucking difficult... three times today, Nixon kept mentioning to me that I should take you dancin'."

You scoffed, daring to tilt your head to the side so that you could get a good look at him; he still had flecks and specks and little splatters of mud on his face from training, but you had to keep your distance. "You didn't tell him about the last time we both had a weekend pass, then."

Bill shook his head, swallowing thickly as he scratched at the side of his jaw and leaned over to flick some ash in the glass ashtray that sat on the desk, half filled with cigarettes. "No, and nobody else knows, either... except the stray cat I was feeding last night."

You sighed, running your hand down your face as you frowned a little; you thought how nice it would have been to be open about the relationship, thinking about how much you would have liked some time together again. It had been far too long since you and Bill had actually had any real time together; sitting in an officer's office wasn't exactly what you could call quality time when it weighed heavily upon you that he wouldn't be able to stay longer than an hour. "Y'know, Bill, sometimes I ask myself, what have we gotta do to get some time to ourselves?"

"I'm not sure," Bill admitted quietly, shaking his head again as he chewed at the inside of his lip. "Easy Company won't get off of my back about asking you out... maybe we should just tell 'em."

"You know why we can't do that," you huffed, hanging your head and staring into the coffee cup. "I know... I know Easy Company and my boys all mean well but... fuck."

"Yeah..." he stared at you, trying to memorise every single feature and detail of you from the way your hands shook slightly through to the little things like how you tapped your knee with your other hand to the beat of an old song he had heard you sing quietly when you were preparing your plane. Bill smiled. He sometimes wondered if you loved that Hawker Hurricane more than him, and the thought made him laugh softly. "Your plane... you ever gonna take me for a spin?"

You shrugged, humming softly as you looked back at him and smiled. "If you ask me really nicely... and as long as you're okay with me racing the Spitfire guys."

It wasn't that you disliked one another, but Bill knew that you and the pilots who were in the Spitfires would, more often than not, play around when you had the time; racing the planes, playing little games in the sky. He had seen it himself a few times, and he always knew it was your plane up above when he saw the snake painted on the tail and the dragon painted on the side. A European adder, and a Welsh dragon. He'd helped you to paint the adder himself.

"I, uhm, I'm real sorry," you started, "but I might have stolen one of your undershirts a while ago, and I just... just realised I'm wearing it."

"That's fine," Bill chuckled softly, putting out the small remains of his cigarette in the ashtray. "Just steal my clothes, I don't mind. I've stolen a few bits of yours."

You nearly grinned as you nodded. "You free tonight?"

For a moment, he was silent as he thought about it, but then he slowly nodded, a smile coming to his face. "I think so."

"I'll take you for a ride," you told him. "Mohinder told me that we'd have the night off except for a couple of the guys with Spitfires... if you can sneak away without Winters knowing, that is."

"I should be able to," Bill nodded, bouncing his leg a little as if the excitement was too much to handle. "You sure, though?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I, uhm... if anyone catches us, I'll just say you always wanted to know what it was like to fly a hawker."

"C'mere," he mumbled, and when you got out of the chair and made your way over to him, standing between his legs with your hands by his thighs, he smiled, gently tracing your jaw with his finger before he took his chance and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Burrowing his face against the side of your neck. "'m sorry, I just need a bit of affection before I go back..."

Slowly, you returned the embrace, staring out of the window as you frowned. You wished you had more time. You wished you had all the time in the world. But the second your training was finished, you would never see him again; all you wanted, in that moment, was to hold him closely until the end of days.

You just wanted more time.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #bill guarnere #bill guarnere imagine #bill guarnere x reader #guarnere x reader #william guarnere #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers

[cakeandpi]

.

#personal- #*screams into pillow* ffffffffffffffff i hate sending out job applications #it's fucking *data entry* i know i can do the work i've done it before #i'm trying to assume that my resume's been dismissed on the spot and move along #but pls pls pls almost anything will be better than continuing making coffee #even at the lowest pay i've seen so far i'll be making so much more than i currently do #and i could actually get a shitty one bedroom apartment than have to do roommates

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)

⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au

⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)

⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas

⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!

the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!

⤑ masterlist

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

3 juin 1957

The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.

So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.

That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.

You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.  

So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.

“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)

The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.

“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)

She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.

“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)

“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)

A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.

You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.

Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.

While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”

“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.

“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.

“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)

Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake. 

That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.

Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet. 

Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.

However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.

What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?

It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left. 

Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.

Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.

Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.

That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.

He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.

“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”

Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”

“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.

“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.

That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.

Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.

“Jaehyun?”

Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.

“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)

“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)

Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.

Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.

You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.

Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.

Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.

Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.

“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”

“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.

“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”

Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.

“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)

You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.

“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.

“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)

“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.

“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)

“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)

You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.

“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.

“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]

He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no.  It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.

Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.

“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”

“Correct.”

His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.

He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.

“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”

“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”

From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.

Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.

début de juillet 1957

“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]

Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.

The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.

You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.

Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.

Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.

All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.

“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)

He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.

“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)

“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)

He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.

Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.

Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.

“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”

“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”

“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”

Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.

“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”

Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.

You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.

Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.

Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.

As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.

He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.

“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”

Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.

That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.

He’s infatuated by you.

“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.

“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]

He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!

The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.

The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)

“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)

With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.

“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.

Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)

“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)

Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.

Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”

It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.

This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.

Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.

He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.

“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”

He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.

“What are you doing?”

“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”

His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.

Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.

If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.

It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.

Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.

Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.

“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)

Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.

“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)

Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.

None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.

Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.

Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.

“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”

“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”

His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.

“Call me that again, please.”

“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.

This time, it’s different.

When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.

It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.

Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.

Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.

Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.

All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.

You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.

The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.

“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.

“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”

“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”

“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?

He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.

“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”

Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.

“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”

Fin de juillet 1957

So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.

Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.

Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.

In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.

There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.

The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.

Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.

“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”

“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”

His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.

Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.

Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.

“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.

“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,

“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)

You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.

“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.

Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.

Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.

“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”

“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”

The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.

Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.

“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”

The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.

On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.

He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.

Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.

“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.

“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.

Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.

His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.

Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.

From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.

Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.

“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.

“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.

“Still breathtaking.”

But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.

All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.

The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.

“Write to me.”

“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”

Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.

Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.

You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.

Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.

Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.

“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”

The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.

Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.

Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.

Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.

Now, what was he up to?

You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”

Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.

“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)

21 octobre 1957

Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.

“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.

“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.

“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”

For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.

“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.

Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.

“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”

Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”

“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.

“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”

“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”

They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.

“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”

Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.

Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.

A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.

Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.

Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.

But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.

There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.

Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.

Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.

Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.

Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.

“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”

Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”

The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.

Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.

“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”

“I beg your pardon?”

With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”

“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.

“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”

Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.

“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.”  Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.

They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.

“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”

“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.

“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”

“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.

“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”

Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.

The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.

“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)

He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.

Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.

Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.

“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.

Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?

“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”

“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”

Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.

“He spoke about me to you?”

“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”

As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”

“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”

Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.

You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.

“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”

He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.

When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.

In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.

“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”

“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”

You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,

“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”

“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”

“Is he your favorite muse?”

“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."

You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.

“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)

“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)

Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.

“So tell me about your new book.”

“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”

The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.

“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)

Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.

“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)

Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.

“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.

“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”

A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.

“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.

“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”

You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.

Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.

Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.

As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.

“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.

“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.

“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”

Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.

How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?

What really went down in Provence?

“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.

Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.

Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.

“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”

“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.

You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”

Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”

You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.

Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.

Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.

“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.

“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.

His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.

“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.

“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.

“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)

Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.

Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.

On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.

Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.

He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.

“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.

Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”

In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.

One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.

“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.

“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.

“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)

You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.

Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.

In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.

But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.

“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)

“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”

“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.

Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.

As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.

Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.

Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.

“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)

“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)

Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.

“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)

He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.

“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.

And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.

After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.

Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.

You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.

“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.

“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”

“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.

“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)

“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,

“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)

Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.

Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.

From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.

Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.

“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.

“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)

He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.

From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.

“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)

It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.

“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)

Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.

A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)

The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.

Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.

At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.

“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.

“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)

His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,

“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

#nct #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct angst #nct fluff #nct smut #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun smut #jaehyun angst #nct jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun imagines

[wtfevenismypage]

Teasing Jerkwad

request: Post Prison Reid having this sense of new found confidence after he’s gotten out. Falls in love with a shy quiet techie girl at the BAU and does whatever he can to make her flustered and blushy just because he’s a cocky arrogant asshole who also happens to be in love with her. Always calling her nicknames and rubbing her shoulders when she’s doing some techy stuff on her computer per his request, kissing her forehead, praising her and holding deep eye contact pls write this I love you so much

Warnings: cursing, 

A/N: I love you too my dear!

The first time you had met Spencer Reid was when he had returned from jail. He was dressed in a suit, a few bruises dressed around his eyes. You had just started working at the office as Penelope’s “liege”. She was basically your mentor.

You were in your corner of Penelope’s office, drinking coffee and browsing on your phone when He and Penelope came in laughing. You turned in your swivel chair, meeting their eyes.

“Hey Penelope...”

“Oh oh oh! You two haven’t met yet! Y/L/N, this is our resident genius Dr. Spencer Reid! Spencer this is my liege Y/L/N. She started working a few weeks ago! You’ll love her.”

The coffee in your mouth almost escapes, you had heard of Dr. Reid and his whole jail situation. You had tried your best to gather proof to get him out and actually you were quite successful.

“Reid, Y/L/N was actually the one who gathered most of the proof to get you out of there. Neither of us would go home until we got you out of there, she’s been up almost every night to get you out as fast as possible.”

“Pen! Don’t expose me like that! I’m so sorry Dr. Reid, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

You stumble over your own feet, waving in front of him. You had heard about his germ issue and wouldn’t dare give this guy a reason to hate you.

“Call me Spencer, and thank you so much for everything.”

He seemed so sweet. 

It didn’t last long.

After your meeting with the man he was never too far, He started calling you daily, or even just coming in with requests to look things up. 

“C’mon Honey, just look it up?”

“Y-you’re a genius! Don’t you know this stuff already? This is child’s play!”

“Please?”

He leaned down, your back facing him as you sat in front of your three computers. His arms wrapped around you from behind, whispering in your ear.

“For me?”

A crazy red blush crawls up your neck, slightly annoyed at the tall man. 

“Go ask Pen! I- I’m busy!”

“Okay fine, just real quick can you look up-”

“Out!”

He sighs, hugging you tighter before releasing you and patting your shoulders. He walks away and the door shuts, a sigh of relief escaping your lips.

“Oh my god he’s gonna kill me one day.”

A few days later you’re working your first case alongside Penelope. It’s exhilarating, having to gather information at light speed is stressful, but nothing too bad.

The phone rings and Penelope answers, both of you working your fingers as fast as possible as Spencer’s voice rings out.

“What’s up doc?”

“Hey Garcia, hey princess,” you could feel Penelope’s eyes drift to you, her mouth dropping, “I need you to find someone for me. Try a man who’s been to rehab for drug abuse over three times, also been to jail. White, and married with two kids.”

You do as he says, finding twenty matches.

“Twenty matches.”

“Alright, his kids are between the ages of ten and fifteen. Maybe twins?”

“Two matches. Sending them over now.”

“Thanks princess, you’re the best.”

“N-no issue.”

He hangs up and Penelope turns her body to face you.

“Princess? He calls you princess?”

Your cheeks lit up bright red, embarrassed at her realization.

“Oh you like him!”

“No! He’s a teasing asshole who won’t let me do my job for three seconds without toying with me!”

“A teasing asshole who you you like.”

You try you’re hardest to fight the smile off of your face, but it’s no use, A wide grin has already smacked itself onto your lips at the thought of the hot doctor.

-

-

-

-

-

If only that smile had lasted.

God, Spencer was such a tease it hurt. He always had his hands on you, he was always so close. So damn close to your face, but never for too long. He always left as soon as he got you as flustered as possible.

And you were starting to get annoyed. He’s just been playing with your emotions for so long, toying with you like a kid with a doll. 

“Hey princess, where you going?”

“As far away from you as possible.”

“Awww don’t be like that!”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, which you forcefully shrug off while crossing into yours and Penelope’s office.

“I have things to file Doctor. Please let me work in peace.”

The one and only thing that peeved Spencer was the fact that you never called him Spencer. Or even just Reid. It was always sir or Doctor. It peeved Spencer so much that he grabbed your wrists and pushed you along in the room with his body until you both hit your desks, luckily, Penelope wasn’t in the room, or you’d have pushed him off.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Spencer huh? You hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you! I just... You tease me so much and its the only way... That I can get even...”

He truly couldn’t stop the smile that grew as your words grew quieter with every syllable. You looked so shy and innocent whilst admitting your fault. He just wanted to ruin your innocence right then and there.

But he knew better than that. Instead, he released your wrists and set his hands on the sides of your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You flushed into a deep crimson color, looking down in embarrassment.

“You were trying to fight by calling me doctor? Really? You couldn’t think of anything better?”

He asked, crouching down to your height to meet your gaze. His watching eyes only made you blush harder.

“Well I was going to ignore you but I was gonna miss you.”

Your lips were pursed as you whine, your hands awkwardly sticking to his forearms as he continues to smirk.

“Aww Sweetheart... You are so fucking adorable.”

He says before leaning in, pausing briefly to check for any signs that you don’t want this, but when you close your eyes, tilting your head up slightly, he leans in further, melding your lips together.

His lips are soft, plump, they feel like they were made for yours specifically. They felt so perfect. So wonderful.

When he pulls away, you can still feel his smile even before you open your eyes. You could feel how he had waited for so long to kiss you.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

a simple nod was all he needed to answer his question.

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016​ @spencer-reids-snow-white​ @sheepfather​ @eusuntgroot​ @libradolan​ @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal​ @zhangyixingxing1​ @secretpickleprofessordean @aquarius-pisces-rose​

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid x y/n #mgg #mgg fluff #mgg headcannon #mgg smut #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fluff #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #luke alvez #bau #bau x reader

[venusiangguk]

may we see the fight tae oc scene pls pls please!!! u can delete later🤔🤔🤔🤔😳😳😳😳 i’m really curious. i mean ofc u don’t have to. still 😧🙃

idealizations concerning real life relations: deleted scene

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / icrlr!couple

>>genre: fwb, angst, rated PG

>>word count: 2.5k

>>warnings: alcohol, implied smut

>>notes: this is a deleted scene from icrlr, that i omitted simply because of the length of the final fic!! feel free to skip or ignore, it doesn't change anything, but since u guys are curious about it, i'll post it as a lil ty for helping me hit that milestone <3 it takes place after the tattoo party scene, and before the lecture scene.

this does NOT provide an alternative ending.

>>summary: taehyung tries to make you see things for what they really are, but it's hard to see through the rose colored glasses.

Winter break has been long awaited and it is finally, finally here. The snow has coated the ground thick, making the town look like a winter wonderland. The air is sharp and cold but not to a miserable extent. Just chilly enough to bundle up, to hold a hand a little tighter and soak up their warmth.

Your favorite season is fall, but the later months are a close second. You love seeing the way everyone’s faces get red when snow flurries come down to kiss their nose and cheeks. Love the way pom poms bounce atop little hats as children play and have snowball fights. Winter is surprisingly one of the warmest, sweetest times of the year. Like the hot coco Jeongguk has been swapping your regular macchiato with lately.

There’s a greatly anticipated party tonight- a mashup of Taehyung’s birthday and New Year’s Eve. Anticipated for the simple fact that said birthday boy has steadily been ignoring you for weeks, and tonight was a night where he couldn’t evade your attempts of reconciliation. He hasn’t returned a single call or even sent a text back. You can’t even be mad at him really, you know it’s justified. You know you fucked up. The coffee date you had with Yoongi last week let you know what you did.

Over an iced coffee, you learned that you had unintentionally skipped out on your best friend's Winter Showcase. The important one that he mentioned multiple times. The one you promised to attend no matter what.

It wasn’t on purpose; you wanted to go, to support him. But you just got caught up. In life, in school, in Jeongguk. It happens.

When Yoongi asked you why you had missed it, when he told you how hurt Taehyung was by your absence, your heart dropped, sank deep within your chest as your mouth fell open before closing, a small pursed frown on your lips. You didn’t have a good excuse. You went to get tattoos with Jeongguk and then to a party where you fucked him, and then home after that? You were too tired to make it? You just simply forgot? Those excuses weren’t good enough for you and you knew they wouldn’t be good enough for Taehyung.

Whereas Yoongi was okay with distance, long periods in between hanging out and talking, Taehyung wasn’t. He was the kind of friend that needed support, reassurance that you cared. He liked quality time and hangs outs that were planned ahead so he could look forward to them. He was looking forward to you being at his showcase.

The party is packed, even more so than usual. Students, drop-outs, alumni, and randoms alike, all congregate to bring in the new year, to celebrate the end of finals, and a certain art majors birthday. Bodies are on bodies, music is loud and deafening. Cups, bottles, and small baggies litter the floor and the smell of weed is nauseating.

Jeongguk’s hand in yours is sweet, though. Enough to ebb the distaste in your mouth as you watch the stereotypical disaster that is a college party.

“I’m going to go find the drinks, okay?” you lie, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand lightly.

He squeezes back, kisses the side of your head as he says, “Bring me one back too?”

You nod, and slip out of his view. Scanning the crowd until you see a familiar face.

Jimin is laughing, red cup in his hand, eyes curled and happy. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch, legs swinging as he laughs with a group of people. He takes a drink from his cup and let’s his eyes roam the room like he’s looking for someone.

The way his face changes when he sees you approaching is like a punch in the gut. It goes from happy, and carefree to stony- only a small, irritated, close-lipped smile on his face. Eyes harsh and cold, no longer holding the mirth they were just seconds ago. He says nothing when you step in front of him, he just looks you over like he’s bored and waiting for you to get on with it so he can be done with it.

You shift on your feet under his scrutiny. “Where’s Tae?” you ask.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you and tilts his head. “Now you want to know where he is? Haven’t been concerned with his whereabouts for months. Definitely weren’t worried about it last week.”

You wince but carry on swiftly. “Listen, I know I fucked up. I’m here to apologize.” You look at him expectantly, but he holds his ground. When he doesn’t falter, you resort to begging, “Please, Jimin. He’s my best friend… I miss him.”

You must look pitiful, because Jimin’s indifferent facade fades, and he clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed at himself for giving into you. “He’s getting us drinks in the kitchen.”

A smile takes over your face as you rush out a ‘thank you’, quickly turning on your heel to head in the opposite direction, before Jimin calls after you.

“Yeah?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“If he’s your best friend, maybe treat him like it, yeah?”

You continue to the kitchen without replying, and you can’t help the little simmer of annoyance that bubbles in your chest. Taehyung has been your best friend for years. And even though Jimin had a point, who was he to tell you anything about yours and Taehyung’s friendship?

Before the thought can fester, however, you see the boy you came looking for, two bottles of vodka in his hand like he’s trying to decide which to use. You see the little party hat atop his shaggy hair before anything else and your heart aches a little. You really did miss him. He lets out a small annoyed sound, and knowing him, he’s probably trying to figure out which has the highest alcohol percentage. You come up next to him, and say his name gently. He jumps, but when he realizes it’s you, the ghost of a smile curls on his lips like he’s happy to see you.

Until it’s replaced with resentment just as quickly. His sharp eyes squint at you before turning back to the bottles in his hands, scowl still in place.

“So you decided you could pencil me in between getting your heart toyed with and your back blown out?” He gives you a side glance and sees how your jaw drops in surprise. He carries on, unbothered. “Or did this just work out because it coincides with New Year’s and because he was invited? Only because he’s Jimin’s friend might I add.”

“Tae-” you try, doing your best to keep the hurt whine out of your tone.

“Save it, __. I don’t want to hear the excuses you have. Just-” he looks at you again, and you think that maybe he softens when he sees your crestfallen features. He sighs like he’s tired. “Just leave me alone. Just for a bit, okay? I’ll get over it eventually,” he finishes, finally deciding on the vodka he wants.

You know his request isn't unreasonable. But it’s already been so long that the distance in your friendship has been eating away at it, that you’re scared ‘eventually’ might take too long and by the time he comes around, there won’t be much of a friendship left. That the damage done, will be irreparable.

“Tae… It’s already been months, can’t we-”

Like night and day, the softness that you were able to pull out of him is immediately replaced with that resentment and anger you were met with when you first stepped into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he seethes, strong brows furrowed. “And whose fault is that?”

His words are sharp and the sting from them makes you take a step back. That is, until you feel anger of your own creep up your throat like venom. “You’re one to talk, Taehyung. You could have reached out to me, too. You’re no better than me when you’re in a relationship.”

He groans, gives an exasperated laugh before shrugging. “You know what? Maybe I am just as bad as you, but at least I’m actually in a relationship,” he spits, “You’re just fucking someone that doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

You know he’s hurt because of the distance. That he doesn’t intend to be so mean. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t stop the angry tears from pooling in your eyes.

And although you’re angry, almost shaking with rage at the feeling of being cornered and blamed, your heart aches at hearing his words.

Jimin, who started seeing Taehyung after you started seeing Jeongguk, had already made your friend official. Had given him the title, the commitment, the relationship that you had been patiently and understandingly waiting for with Jeongguk. The bitterness that bleeds into your heart makes you feel gross and ugly.

You know what they say; that labels are superficial and don’t mean that much. But when you don’t have them? It makes you wonder. If a label really isn’t that important, like everyone says, why is Jeongguk so reluctant to give one to you?

“Jimin’s your boyfriend?” you whisper.

Taehyung gives you a short nod. “Month and half ago. You would’ve known if you got your head out of Jeongguk’s ass.”

Almost like he was summoned, the topic of debate waltz into the room, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzles into your neck.

It’s instinctual now, the way your body responds to him. The way you melt into his chest like second-nature, how your hands settle over his like they are keeping them in place. How immediately in his presence you feel calmer; the panicky, hurt feeling you were experiencing moments ago vanishing as if it were just a fleeting thought and not something that’s always in the back of your head.

Not in a possessive, ‘I need him to be mine’ kind of way, though.

More like, ‘Why won’t he be mine?’

“Hi,” he murmurs into your neck.

“Hi, baby,” you respond softly, out of habit. The room shirks around you whenever he’s near. Makes you feel like you’re in your own bubble with him.

Jeongguk’s about to reply, ask where the drinks are, but then he hears an annoyed scoff sound in front of you both. Jeongguk bristles as he looks up and sees Taehyung taking a big swig from his cup.

“Uh- am I interrupting? Should I go?” he asks hesitantly, looking between you and your friend.

“No-” you say at the same time that Taehyung says, “Yes.”

You cringe, and turn in Jeongguk’s arms, hands resting on his chest. “Just give me a couple more minutes okay? I’ll bring the drinks.”

Jeongguk searches your eyes, before looking at Taehyung one last time before giving you a stern nod and a quick kiss.

You turn back to Taehyung, ready to apologize for Jeongguk’s interruption, when he talks over you.

“You’re pathetic,” he starts, and you roll your eyes with an irritated sigh before he continues, “but I know you love him. And that you can’t help it,” he shrugs. “But as your friend, I have to tell you that it’s not going to end well. You probably don’t even need me to tell you that. You probably already know and are choosing to ignore it for the sake of the delusions you’ve made up in your ‘pretty little head’.”

You pout at him quoting you, and your brows furrow. “He cares about me. And he’s Jimin’s best friend. He’s a good person, you don’t even know him,” you argue defensively. Though you know your arguments make little sense and are flimsy at best.

Taehyung frowns. Pauses like he’s thinking.

“I didn’t say he was a bad person, and maybe he does care about you in his own messed up way. But he doesn’t care about you in the way that you want him to.” His lips are still down turned when he speaks again.

“And the difference between him with you and him with Jimin is astronomical; it shouldn’t even be a comparison, but I will humor you,” he rubs a hand up and down his face like he’s tired. “The dynamic is completely different, for obvious reasons. For one, Jimin is a safe relationship. You are not. Jimin isn’t in love with him, Jimin isn’t sucking his dick, and Jimin doesn’t want things from Jeongguk that Jeongguk cannot give, or does not want to give,” he says with a raised brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

It seems that the anger has died down some between you both, a semi-civil conversation finally being had. You wrinkle your brows in confusion at him. “What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Cmon __. Why do you think he hasn’t made you his girlfriend? Why do you think he literally has not been in a serious relationship since high school? Why do you think he never agrees to anything more than 2 months out?” He waits for you to answer but you just purse your lips stubbornly. “He’s scared. Dare I say terrified of commitment, and that’s exactly what you want from him right?”

You stay headstrong and quiet for a moment longer, ignoring his question in favor of asking one of your own when you finally do speak up. “If I’m so scary, why hasn’t he left?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Fuck if I know? Maybe he does care about you like you say he does. I don’t think so, but hey,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, like he is throwing in the figurative towel. “Maybe you’re right and maybe I‘m wrong. Or maybe there’s some fucked up codependency fermenting between you both when you copulate. I genuinely have no clue, and frankly, I don’t care to find out. Don’t text me until you come to your senses. And don’t get mad when I tell you ‘I told you so’.”

And with that, he turns and leaves you to make your own drinks. You hope the smile you give Jeongguk when you find him is believable.

That night when you go back to his place, you voice your concerns to him in between sweet, heated kisses that taste like hot cider. You tell him hesitantly how Taehyung voiced his concerns about Jeongguk not caring about you and Jeongguk got a little irritated, a little miffed as he unlatched his lips from your neck. He asked what Taehyung knew, how he even came to that conclusion when he’s not around you both.

He assured you with gentle touches and tender words that of course he cares about you. He reminded you that he always makes time for you, he always answers your calls and your texts, he takes you out every now and then, too. He asks you what you think and when you contemplate your answer, going over what he said, you can’t really argue with him. Even if an uneasy, dismal feeling settles in the pit of your tummy.

~~~

hellooo!! again, this is just a scene and part of the plot that i chose not to use because i felt like the fic was already so long. i wish that i had ended up including it tho, so i hope you enjoyed even though its nothing special <3 feel free to do the things if you liked it: like, comment, reblog, send an ask~~ love u, ty again for helping me reach that milestone <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fic #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook fic recs #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #networkbangtan #bangtansorciere #btsgoldnet #heartsforbts #btscreatorscorner #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #jungkook oneshot #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #jeongguk x reader

[arcadejohn127-9]

Ahhh I love your writing sm!! Could I request how the brothers would react to an MC that's super doting and overly loving from the get-go?. Always insists on helping w cooking duty, brings the brothers coffee if they look busy, etc? pls & ty!

Tbh I don't really have a love language over than verbal but this speaks to me

In game I make my MC very much like this, overly positive and always wanting to help. Not because I have to, I could easily pick more honest or teasing options but when it comes to it. My first instinct/Response is those options because I like the idea of being helpful to people

It's only when people start using that for their advantage or make me help them out even though I'm busy or just don't want to do it. That's when there's an issue.

Lucifer:

"oh~ Luci! You still working?"

You peered over at him at his desk, peaking from the space between the wall and the stair railing

He looked up at you with a tired expression, frowning

"I am, what do you need?"

you trotted down the rest of the steps, walking over to him with a bright smile

A tray in hand with coffee and biscuits and apple slices

"I made these for you, I know it isn't much but you're always working so hard... perhaps I can help?"

Lucifer wasn't too surprised, you were always offering your help whenever you could but it still surprised him you were so quick to offer

He didn't know how you had all that energy to face the day and then do more for others but he always enjoyed your company

"be my guest."

You grabbed a mini stool and sat beside him, you'd read over papers with him, massaging his hand whenever you noticed it cramped

He shared the snacks you got him and even revealed the mini snack draw he had in his desk

He put a finger to his lips with a smile

"don't tell my brother's, this will be just between you and me."

He showed you what he had and you picked whatever caught your fancy, happily eating as you looked over the papers

Mammon:

He wasn't use to Someone being nice to him so when you came along and offered acts of service - he was blown away!

Even over time he wasn't really use to it

Speaking of you and your acts or service; you were whistling a happy tune

A thick wallet in your pocket, you headed straight to mammons room

It was as if he could smell the money, he rushed to your side and started eyeing the wallet

"Stop peeking - it's a gift."

He looked at you confused but was grinning

"oh? The great Mammon can't refuse a gift!"

You placed the wallet in his hand, he let out a yelp at the weight of it

It was completely loaded!!! It was stuffed with money!

He couldn't believe it - it had to be a trick! There was no way you were giving him this much money!

"Are ya playing with me? Ha ha human."

"no tricks, you've been struggling with your debt to the witch's so I thought I'd help, I heard you've been getting in trouble with Lucifer more because of it so I wanted to help!"

He didn't even realize he teared up, he jumped towards you and hugged you close

Nuzzling your faces together as he hugged you tight

"You-! YOU DAMN HUMAN- NO YOU ANGEL! YOU'RE THE BEST THING THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!"

You patted his arm, laughing and it wasn't long before he was planning to spend a big splurge on you despite his issues with money already

Levithan:

He was shuffling into his room, headphones on and just starting to calm down

Today was hectic so he was happy to finally be back home

"Evening! Don't worry, I still used the secret password."

"HUH-?! THAT'S NOT- WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!"

He threw his headphones off, face bright red

He should of known you were up to something, you kept humming whenever you entered his room

Talking about cleaning up after himself but he kept forgetting due to getting distracted

"I noticed it's gotten really messy so I decided to clean it for you but before you say anything, I know you hate when it's cleaned because you don't know where anything so I've labelled where everything has been stored if it's changed places."

He was still upset, he REALLY hated it when things are changed without him knowing first

But he looked around the room and sure enough, things were still in the cupboards and places he stacked them in and the labels were correct

Everything was completely organized! All the piled up ramen was even gone!

He exhaled a long breathe calming himself down, he was happy - really really happy

"Thanks.... just - can we arrange something next time? But I do like what you did! It looks nice - it's much better now!"

"of course, I'll ask next time - also~ I got you some special ruri-chan themed chips in hopes to make you feel better."

He moves before he knows it, hugging you tight

"STAY WITH ME FOREVER!!!!"

He's definitely embarassed afterwards and gets you out of his room before he makes himself look more like a love sick fool

But don't worry, he texts you wanting to hang out later

Satan:

Satan has been locked in his room after having a big outburst earlier that day

He got overwhelmed from all the noises and threw a book at mammon

You waited awhile before going after him, wanting him to calm down and looked after mammons sore head

You grabbed the book he threw, making a nice calming tea and even made some Apple pie

When you knocked his door he freezed

"Who is it-?! Lucifer, I'm not in the mood for your scolding-"

"it's just me, I got you something!"

He opened the door for you, letting you inside

His room looked clean for once - you didn't doubt he continued his rage into his room and cleaned up to calm down

You offered him a smile, placing the tray on his bed

"I hope you like it, I made it myself."

He looked at the fresh apple pie, his stomach rumbling at the mere sight of it

"you did this...for me? Didn't I scare you?"

You hummed, sitting close to him

"yeah a little but everyone has their bad days, you having one doesn't change anything - though you do need to apologize to mammon."

He sat down by his bed, placing the tray on his lap

"you're right I do, thank you for not just seeing me as some angry creature....I didn't intend to blow up like that."

You patted his arm, still smiling

You two sat together, you read his book for him whilst he ate and drank

He was very bashful at how supportive you are but that was you, you've always been so quick to offer help or do things for people ever since you've arrived

You were good to him, he'll always appreciate that

Asmodeus:

His love language is affection and words

Yours is acts of service

It's perfect!

Though, when it was established you were quick to help and offer your service - prepare for MANY innuendos

He'll come skipping to you, draping himself off the nearest object and asking if you want to help him de-stress

Most of the time you just have spa days or lay around doing nothing

You decided to treat him today seeing as exams were stressing him out

"Asmo! Won't you help me? I have this lovely new-"

He's skidding as he appears in the doorway, ready to do whatever you want

But you just grinned, knowing your plan worked

You grabbed him and shoved him into a chair

Before he knew it; his hair was tied up and his jacket and scarf has disappeared

"oh? What's all this about? Does my love want some special care?"

"nope, I just want to look after you today~ you've been stressing over exams so much, I wanted to treat you like a prince."

He had the biggest grin on his face after that

And treated like a prince he was

You did his skin routine, brushed his hair and curled it

If he even mentioned being thirsty you were straight to getting him a nice refreshing drink

If you're able to - please carry him bridal style - he will love every second of it

"you treat me so well, I know I'm already a blessing to this demonic world but you're just pure light."

He's so love sick, an absolute fool in love

"nonsense, I'm just helping you like usual."

Which is true, you were always being helpful to him

Thats why he loved doing whatever he could for you

"Never leave the Devildom, I couldn't bare not seeing your beautiful face everyday."

You just laughed, massaging his face and gave him a quick kiss

Beezlebub:

Another person who does acts of service as a love language

Though, do forgive him if he forgets due to hunger - he'll immediately make it up to you

At this point he's become a subconscious challenge/game of service - always trying to one up each other

Currently, he was really anxious about his up coming game

It was the biggest one that R.A.D was having and was against a smaller school in the Devildom

The brothers all agreed to come watch him play and even made banners and levi brought glowsticks

You were no were to be seen

The weeks running up to the game you were always busy and whilst you still do some things for him here or there - you were mostly out of the house

But it was but a long lasting plan

You planned on supporting him the best way you could!

When he finally rolled onto the field he felt dread when he didn't spot you in the crowd

He couldn't stop frowning until he saw you, shaking pom poms and running with the cheersquad

That's right, you joined the cheer team to show your support for the lovely demon

"I WANT TO DEDICATE A CHEER TO OUR STAR PLAYER - BEEZLEBUB!!!"

He's so flustered and absolutely shining with joy under his helmet

As soon as he could he came running towards you and hugged you tight

"I was so worried I did something that made you drift away....you did this for me?"

"of course! I'm sorry I made you worried, I wanted to surprise you."

He had to take off his helmet after trying to nuzzle your face, you yelped when it bonked you

"This is the best thing anyone has done for me, thank you (Y/N)."

"you're welcome, now go win that game! Prove those losers that R.A.D is the best school around!"

It was no surprised that R.A.D won

The players all cheered and partied, inviting the band and cheerleaders to celebrate with them

But you decided to have a sleepover with Beelzebub, feeding him plenty of tasty foods as your own type of celebration

"Open wide."

You almost choked on the cake basically shoved in your mouth, laughing as frosting covered your nose and cheeks

You got your revenge but he happily licked what he could

This is the best celebration he could ever get

All because of you!

Belphegor:

Even if your love language wasn't acts or service, you definitely got in the habit of doing it with this guy

He was spoilt from always being carried and pampered by his twin

He could get away with sleeping anywhere as long as he got things done and good grades

But you were always the helpful human, giving him snacks or fluffing his pillows

He's joked about getting a bell so he could call you whenever he needed you

That never happened

"Belphie!! You awake? I got something for you."

He immediately popped his head up and waved to get your attention

You showed him the cup of hot mocha you've recently made; sweet and delicious and has an extra kick to help with keeping awake

"Smells delicious, you made this?"

"yep! Now drink up, we got plans today."

He happily drunk it, feeling more awake with every gulp

By the end of the Cup he was absolutely overjoyed from the taste

Though you almost groaned in frustration when he yawned, so happy that he got sleepy

"you have anymore~? I could drink loads of these- make me more, you know how to make them, I'm too sleepy - it's your fault I'm sleepy."

You flicked his head

Reminding him to not act like a brat

But you did make him more and throughout the day you'd give him a large cup

You needed to do studies and make sure belphegor kept his grades up - Lucifer's orders

But he was already a star pupil regardless so you weren't sure why you had to

But spending time with your favourite demon was never an issue, regardless of his attitude

"We need to do this more, I love it when you look after me."

"I know, now write your answer, I need proof you're working so I don't get strung up."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #beelzebub obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me luficer #obey me imagine #obey me headcanon #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 2: Push and Pull

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst

WC: 8.2k

Warnings for this chapter: stalking, alcohol consumption, a gun, attempted murder, language (jk has a potty mouth) pls let me know if there's anything I should add!

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn't sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn't his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger. 

Previous → Next

Jungkook blinks up at his ceiling, his eyes dry from keeping them open for so long. The light of the sun is starting to peek through his blinds, signaling that morning has officially come. He finally looks away from his ceiling to look at the window where the light is creeping in.

Jungkook sighs and sits up, running a hand through his hair and mussing it up. He's not sure he even got a wink of sleep last night. There's something about this case that's apparently keeping him up at night, and he's barely even started.

He can't help but wonder what this girl did to make herself a target. He's not questioning whether he should go through with it, no, that's not even a question. The money on this girl's head has to be at least three if not four times as much as his previous hits.

Jungkook just wants to know what he's getting himself into, that's what's bugging him the most. He doesn't like walking into situations and not knowing everything that's going on.

He looks around his tiny studio apartment, his eyes blurry. Then, he starts to laugh to himself quietly. With a job that pays this much, he's worrying an awful lot about things that don't matter.

After another minute of delaying the inevitable, Jungkook forces himself to get up and get dressed before grabbing an apple to eat on the way.

As he locks his apartment door behind him, the neighbor's door opens and Jungkook sees a familiar face smiling brightly at him.

"Good morning, Jungkook!"

"Hi, Hoseok. How are you this morning?" Jungkook asks politely.

The older boy smiles even brighter if that's possible as he holds up a rolled-up paper, "I'm great since I've got a new paper to read. Thanks for leaving it, Kook."

Jungkook smiles, "No problem. I was getting one anyway, thought I might as well grab an extra."

Hoseok nods, "Where are you off to? I thought you didn't work at the coffee shop on Tuesdays?"

"Oh, I'm going job hunting," Jungkook responds lightly. "I'm tired of working at the coffee shop." He laughs as Hoseok pouts.

"I haven't even gotten to visit you while you work! Darn." Hoseok snaps his fingers in disappointment. "Oh well, good luck on the job hunt!"

"Thanks, Hoseok." Jungkook smiles and turns to leave, only relaxing when he hears his neighbor's door shut. That's something he doesn't like about having a friendly neighbor, he hates lying to people that seem to actually care about him.

Hoseok was always saying he wanted to visit Jungkook and get some discounted coffee. Jungkook doesn't have the heart to tell him that it was all a lie. In fact, everything he knows about him is a lie.

That's why he doesn't involve a lot of people in his life and he plans to keep it that way.  

Jungkook shakes his head to clear it. He's been getting too emotional lately and his head isn't in his work.

"That stops here and now," Jungkook vows to himself as he waits at a crosswalk, watching the cars drive by.

A few minutes later, he arrives at Sunshine Kindergarten.

Jungkook is caught off guard when he sees the girl immediately. He had expected to have to wait for her arrival again today. She's sitting outside the school on the steps, a book in her hands that's long forgotten as she looks up at the sky. It looks like she's talking to someone, but when Jungkook looks around, there's no one else anywhere near her.

The girl cocks her head to the side, then starts to rock back and forth a little as she continues to talk to no one. Too curious for his own good, Jungkook crosses the street to get closer. Maybe if he gets close enough, he can hear what she's saying.

"I th-think...maybe s-sandwiches would be a good idea."

The hell?

Jungkook glances at her as he pretends to just stroll by. She's definitely talking to herself.

"No, no no no. I had a s-sandwich for l-lunch yesterday..." She bites the fingernail on her right thumb as she seems to contemplate something. She takes no notice of Jungkook while she continues to look at her book, then the sky.

"Mm, maybe tt-tteokbokki?"

Jungkook fights the urge to look at her like she's insane and just continues to walk by until he's safe to turn and keep an eye on her.

"Oooh, tteokbokki sounds y-yummy." The girl says with finality. Then she glances at her phone, notices the time, and starts putting her book in her cupcake and cookie decorated bag. A minute later, she's walking into the school and leaving his line of sight.

"What the hell..." Jungkook mutters to himself.

Who even is this girl?

_____________

Today, as Jungkook follows behind the girl as she walks home, she stops several times to talk to babies, dogs, and even a bird.

Jungkook just follows behind in disbelief.

This has to be some kind of an act.

Yeah, that's definitely what it is. This girl is better than he thought, she's got her whole act planned out to throw anyone off her track. She's going to have to do better than acting like some innocent school teacher to throw him off though.

This time, instead of heading straight home, the girl goes to an arcade. When Jungkook walks into the arcade a minute later, he spots her in the same white skirt and chunky tennis shoes, a light blue cardigan around her shoulders.

She's playing one of the games by herself, her face set into one of pure determination. Jungkook goes to a game where he can still see her and starts to play. He's more focused on making sure she doesn't leave, so he ends up losing that first round.

He doesn't really care though, he watches her carefully as she shouts in triumph. A few tickets come out of her little machine and she snags them, running to the front to trade them in for a tiny stuffie.

The girl ends up staying at the arcade for another two hours, collecting enough tickets to trade in for an octopus stuffie that's almost the size of her to go along with the tiny starfish one she got earlier.

She looks laughable as she carries her prizes out the front door and down the street, clutching the giant octopus like her life depends on it. The little starfish rides along safely in her bag.

One more stop is made as the girl gets a little cup of ice cream from a man selling it on the side of the street. The second he asked her if she wanted to buy some, it was like she couldn't say no as she hurriedly agreed and bought one scoop of ice cream. When she leaves, Jungkook goes up to the man and buys a scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream to eat while he follows her.

He hasn't had a decent meal all day and he's starving.

It's starting to get dark by the time Jungkook recognizes the streets they're on and realizes she's finally heading home. Weirdly enough, the girl turns and walks down a dark alley, even though the streetlamp near it is flickering on and off.

Doesn't she have any sense of self-preservation? Jungkook thinks to himself.

It might not be good for her, but it's definitely something that could help him out immensely. He'll have to keep tailing her for a few more days to make sure, but if she continues to use this dark alley as a shortcut, then she's practically doing his job for him.

Sure enough, they end up a lot closer to her apartment by the time they're out of the alley. So, it's a shortcut she probably uses quite often. Then Jungkook notices that she hasn't turned around to look at her surroundings this entire time.

She's making this too easy.

He could have this job over with by the end of the week if luck stays on his side. It's always a relief when it doesn't take him long to get a job done.

He's really had nothing to worry about, why was he worrying so much? It isn't his business why this girl is a target, it's his job to carry out his end of the deal, that's all.

It feels like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders as he climbs the stairs to his apartment that night. He says hello to Hoseok, who's sitting outside and reading, before making his way inside.

The first thing he does is jump in the shower, then when he's finished, he makes himself some ramen.

Jungkook sits alone at his little dining table, gently blowing on the noodles in-between his chopsticks. His hair is still damp from his shower, but he's cozy in his sweats with something close enough to a real meal than he's had all day. He gets up once to grab some kimchi and soju from the fridge, then he stays at the dining table until he's downed two bottles.

This happens every time he gets a new job. It feels good at the moment, but he knows he's going to regret it in the morning. That's the only thought that stops him from grabbing a third bottle.

By the time he's settled into bed, he's forgotten what was worrying him so much the past few days. He smiles to himself, relieved that he'll be getting that money in a week at most. He'll have to come up with a plan when he isn't hammered like he is now. That's the last thought to pass through his mind before he's out like a light.

______________

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping.

Not real birds, just the sound that you chose for your alarm. Something you're grateful that Mina helped you do. The other alarm sounds just give you anxiety when they go off.

You don't notice it at first, but by the time you've become aware of your surroundings, you realize that your legs are all tangled up with the tentacles of a giant octopus stuffie. The small starfish stuffie is laying by your head. The events of last night, you getting enough tickets to get your new little friends, makes their way into your brain.

You laugh and snuggle into it more.

No wonder you slept so soundly last night; you had something to cuddle!

You breathe deeply, after a few minutes you're awake enough to sit up and rub your eyes. Smiling to yourself at the sight of the beautiful golden light seeping in through your blinds, you sigh happily. Normally you don't like waking up, but today feels different. There's something that's shifted, but you can't tell what it is.

Maybe it's because you slept so well last night. The nightmares that usually plague your dreams, were absent. You smile at the giant octopus in your arms, "Y-You chased away all the b-bad dreams!" You exclaim, hugging it tightly to your chest, "Thanks, C-Cookie!"

You named the stuffie last night, the starfish also got a name, Smiley, due to the tiny smile stitched into its adorable little face.

You sit in bed for another minute or so, just staring into space and thinking about random things. Then you slip out of bed and hurry to the bathroom to get a quick shower. As the water pours down your head and shoulders, you start to sing a song that's been stuck in your head for a few days. Your voice cracks as you try to hit the higher notes, but you pay it no mind and keep singing your heart out.

With your hair wrapped up in a towel on top of your head, you pour yourself a bowl of your favorite cereal. You play your favorite songs as you eat and hum along to them, your mind wandering. When you're finished, you move to your room to get dressed.

Opening your closet, you stand there and scan the limited amount of clothing you have as if you had millions of choices to pick from. "One, two, three, four..." You count lowly to yourself, pointing at each shirt, skirt, and pants hanging in your closet. After a minute of debating, you decide to wear your light blue flowy skirt today instead of your favorite white one. You pull it on, then grab a white blouse along with some frilly white socks.

Mina texted you earlier to tell you how sorry she was, but she couldn't drive you today. Her work wanted her in at six o'clock sharp. You didn't need to be at work until seven. You reassured her that you would be totally fine walking. You love to walk in the mornings anyway, the fresh air always smells so nice and all the birds seem to be braver as they are out more in the morning. The whole world is just so quiet and beautiful as it wakes up.

You hum to yourself as you pull on your favorite tennis shoes. It takes you a few tries to get the laces done, but you manage.

"What should I eat f-for lunch today?" You ask yourself as you scan your fridge. You really want to try making some kimbap, but the last time you tried that without Mina's help, you ended up with a burned finger and almost lost another finger trying to cut the veggies.

So, you decide to make yourself another simple sandwich today, cheese this time. When you're done putting it together, you get out your cookie cutters and get to work. You have to contain your excitement at the heart-shaped sandwiches sitting on the counter after you're finished.

You stick to letting yourself jump around for a second to let the giddiness out, then you force yourself to calm down enough to grab a container and gently put the little sandwiches in. You grab a few more little snacky things to put in your lunch bag, then you zip it all up.

Finally, you're ready to go!

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder, then you snag your lunch and clutch it tightly in your fist as you make your way out of your apartment, remembering to lock the door this time.

Mina would be proud of you.

The crisp June morning air hits your nose and you breathe in deeply, a smile spreading on your face as you descend the stairs.

You make good time this morning, seeing as there isn't much to catch your attention today. You arrive at the school twenty minutes before the bell is going to ring, so you decide to sit on the steps again today like you did yesterday. It's just too nice out here to be all closed up in your classroom before your kids even get here.

You pull out your drawing pad from your bag and get comfortable on the front steps. Next, you take out your colored pencils as you scan the area, trying to figure out what you should draw today.

You see something across the street, the kind old man that runs the paper stand. Maybe you could draw him and give it to him as a present when it's all finished! You nod in excitement and get to work, your nose soon buried in your drawing pad.

______________

Jungkook had decided this morning that he would follow the girl from her home. If he was lucky and she was going to walk today it would be a perfect chance to see if she always uses the alleyway or if she had just used it by chance last night.

The girl comes out of her place around six-twenty, in a light blue skirt this time. Jungkook smirks, so she does own something that isn't just that one white skirt.

Her hair is a little messed up as if she forgot to brush it before leaving. She's got a scrunchie on her wrist, but it appears that she has no intention of using it.

Jungkook follows a little ways behind her, as he has been these past few days. With how distracted this girl gets, he could walk right behind her and she'd never notice him.

Surprisingly, she doesn't stop much on the way to the school. She skips a little, probably to the beat of the song she's listening to in her headphones. A few people, Jungkook notices, give her odd looks.

He later finds out when he hears her, that it's probably because she's talking to herself as she looks at the sky, then down to her shoes as she watches herself walk.

He shakes his head, seriously wanting to know what the story is behind this target.

She deserves an oscar, Jungkook thinks in amusement.

Then he notices that she doesn't use the alley, she just passes by it.

Maybe she'll use it again tonight, he thinks hopefully.

At one point, the girl trips over a crack in the sidewalk and lurches forward. He isn't sure why, but he finds himself stepping closer, his hands out to catch her before he realizes what he's doing. Jungkook steps back and clears his throat, watching as she catches herself anyway, and continues to skip down the sidewalk.

When they get close to the school, Jungkook crosses the street and heads over to buy a paper from the old man before finding a bench and settling down on it. He looks over the paper, expecting the girl to just go inside, but instead, she sits on the steps again.

He watches as she pulls a notebook out of her childish bag, then she pulls out a little box. Out of the little box, she takes some colored pencils. She looks across the street and he can tell she's decided to draw the old man at the paper stand.

Huh.

This girl is undoubtedly strange.

She sits and draws in concentration for a good ten minutes, then she gathers up her things and heads inside. She must be too excited about her picture because as she's skipping in she yet again trips on the last step and stumbles. The girl catches herself and continues in as if she's used to tripping over everything.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, then just shakes his head again and goes back to reading the paper. He's got some time to kill before school is over.

It turns out, he would see the girl before the last bell.

Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand and heads to his little bench to sit down and eat his lunch, grateful that he's going to be eating actual meals today.

He digs into the tteokbokki and fish cakes immediately. It's as delicious as he expected it to be and he tries not to groan in satisfaction at the taste of something that isn't just instant ramen noodles. But what he doesn't expect, is to see the girl coming out from the school.

Jungkook chokes on a rice cake as he scrambles to grab his paper and flip it open, covering his face. He settles his breathing enough to be able to swallow the bite that almost killed him, his eyes closed in annoyance. When he slowly peeks over the top, he sees her sitting on the front steps again, a little pink lunch sack in her lap. She moves her legs so her skirt doesn't ride up and expose anything, then she opens the lunch bag.

Jungkook watches in mounting disbelief as she pulls out what looks to be a heart-shaped sandwich.

How much weirder can this girl get?

She says something to herself before taking a big bite of the sandwich, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk that stuffed one too many nuts in his mouth.

He shakes his head and stabs a little rice cake before shoving it in his mouth. He isn't sure why this girl is starting to annoy the crap out of him, but she is. Jungkook looks up again when he hears a loud laugh ring out from across the street. A couple that was walking look at the girl like she's insane, but she doesn't seem to notice.

She just covers her mouth with her hand and snorts as she looks at something on her phone. Jungkook scoffs and goes back to his paper, the annoyance seeping off of him.

How can someone be so annoyingly happy all the time? Damn.

It's like she knows she's got everything she's ever wanted and she couldn't care less about anyone else's problems.

Jungkook despises people like that.

It's as if a switch goes off in him and he's suddenly really freaking pissed off. People like her think that life is so easy all the damn time. Do they ever struggle with anything?

He snaps his paper to straighten it out, trying to calm himself down before he goes into that nasty hole of becoming envious of those more fortunate than him.

Against his better judgment, Jungkook looks over the paper at her again, his chest only burning with more hatred as she starts to count the stupid little carrot sticks in the container on her lap.

Fucking annoying.

By the time Jungkook looks up again, the girl is gone. A second later, the bell signaling the end of lunch rings loudly.

Jungkook sits on the bench in a funk until the end of school bell rings. When he finally sees the target coming out of the school, he stands up and starts to follow her. The same routine he's been doing since Monday. Jungkook mulls over a few things in his head as he watches her stop at several food stands until she's got a cup of rice cakes, a scoop of ice cream, a fish cake skewer, and a mochi that's bigger than usual. He doesn't know how she is able to carry all that, but she manages.

She walks around a bit, looking into the windows of shops, her forehead pressing against the glass as she stares at a gaudy red dress. She stuffs another bite of mochi in her mouth, chewing sadly as she reluctantly drags herself away from the store window.

Jungkook looks at the dress in distaste; it's hideous. He can't imagine someone actually buying that thing, besides, it's probably way overpriced anyway.

He turns from it to keep following her, seeing that she's stopped now at a window where a few puppies are running around and playing with each other. The girl smiles at them and puts her hand up to the glass. A tiny brown puppy inches close to her hand and licks the glass that separates them.

She giggles delightedly.

Jungkook watches, emotionless.

When is she going to head home?

Finally, after what feels like hours, the girl starts taking the streets that lead back to her apartment. Jungkook sighs in relief, then he gets another nice surprise when she turns to head into the alley by her house.

A smirk spreads on his face as he enters the alley behind her. He knows what he's going to do.

_______________

The next day passes just like they have been this past week. Jungkook trails the girl from her apartment to the school, from the school back to her apartment. It's a relief to find that whenever she walks, she takes the alley by her house on the way home.

Now, Jungkook is sure what his plan is going to be.

It'll be sure to draw attention when this girl is dead, there's no doubt about it. No one is going to suspect her of being anything other than a school teacher, so why would someone kill her?

Jungkook has thought through it all. This is what he does for a living, of course he isn't going to be sloppy about it. He'll be done with this by Sunday and no one will suspect anything other than a robbery gone wrong.

He happened to overhear the conversation between the target and her friend that drives the black car. The friend will be gone by Saturday morning, out of the picture and none the wiser.

Jungkook needs to be careful today though. He also overheard them this morning talking about how they are going to be meeting up at the girl's apartment tonight. Something about doing girl shit before the friend leaves tomorrow.

So, Jungkook decides to take the day off. He heads back home, not about to be caught by this friend that's probably a lot smarter than the target.

He'll just come to her apartment tomorrow morning and the plan will be over by tomorrow night.

______________

When you see Mina's car parked out in front of the school, you start running outside excitedly, your bag bouncing as you bound down the front steps.

"M-Mina!"

She has a huge smile on her face when you open the passenger door and climb in. "Hey, girl!" Mina shouts, yanking you over to hug you. "Aren't you excited it's Friday??"

You nod, "Yes, b-but...I am g-gonna miss you." You pout.

Mina shakes her head, "Nuh-uh. Tonight we party, there shall be no tears!"

You laugh as you buckle yourself in, "Ok, I p-promise I won't cry. W-What are we going to do tonight?"

Mina smirks sneakily and nudges your arm, "Oh you'll see~"

_______________

You clap in excitement when you see what Mina has planned for you two. After you unlocked your apartment door and let her in, she had set down a few bags, then instructed you to open them.

Inside one, you found a tub of ice cream, a box of cookies, and a few bags of your favorite types of chips. In the other, there were two blankets, two pairs of fuzzy socks, and a couple different movies.

"We g-get to have m-movie night?" You jump up and down as Mina nods happily.

"Yes! Now you have to pick which movie you want to watch. Should we do romance or comedy?" She starts pulling the stuff out of the bags as you mull over the different choices.

You have a hard time deciding things a lot of the time, that's why Mina usually has you make the choice. She wants you to get some practice making decisions.

After she's set everything up, she turns back to see you on your knees, leaning over the movies that you've laid out on the ground. You're biting the nail on your thumb as you appear concerned, looking at the movies.

Your best friend laughs and moves to crouch next to you. She looks at you and speaks softly, "Do you want to laugh tonight, or do you want to get the butterflies in your tummy?"

You turn to her and a shy smile spreads on your face, "Ok, l-let's do romance!"

A few minutes later, you're cuddled up next to your best friend. You both have fuzzy socks on and blankets, keeping you warm. You each also have a spoon, scooping out the ice cream as your eyes are glued onto one of your favorite romance movies of all time.

Not even three hours have passed when you're both dead asleep on your couch. Soft snores leave Mina's mouth, both of your legs tangled up with each other. The second movie is playing in the background, long forgotten after you both fell asleep not even halfway through.

The next morning, you wake up on the couch groggily. You look around in confusion, forgetting for a minute why you're on the couch. Then you remember and you laugh to yourself as you rub your eyes. Then you look around again.

Mina isn't anywhere and you think for a moment that she's left without saying goodbye. You hang your head, trying not to cry. Then you hear the toilet flush and the water run in the bathroom. You sigh in relief and wait patiently for her to come out.

When she does, you instantly stand up, "Want s-some breakfast?" You offer. She smiles sadly, "I wish I could stay for breakfast. But I have to leave now. I still have to grab my luggage and head to the airport. My flight is at ten."

You look at your phone and see that it's eight o'clock.

"Oh," You say sadly.

Mina walks over and hugs you, "Don't worry, ___. I'll be back before you know it! And I'll call you whenever I'm not working, okay?"

You nod and smile at her to reassure her that you're okay.

She leaves a few minutes later and you find yourself alone in your quiet apartment once again. Your nose twitches as you try not to tear up, then you move to the kitchen to get yourself some of your favorite cereal to cheer yourself up.

You'll have to plan some fun things for you to do while she's gone, or you might just go crazy.

______________

Jungkook has been outside the girl's apartment since eight this morning. He saw the friend leaving a little after he got there. He recognized her shoulder-length black hair immediately and he knew it was the driver.

He had smiled to himself when he saw her get into her car and drive away. He honestly can't believe the luck he's had on this job so far. This is going to be the easiest he's ever had it.

But now, he's sitting on a bench in complete and utter boredom as he waits for the girl to leave her house. It turns out, she doesn't leave her house until almost lunchtime.

By the time he sees a flash of black and grey, he's almost fallen asleep on the bench. But he jerks up the second he sees the girl hurrying down her stairs. She looks totally different today...

Jungkook is surprised to see the girl is in grey sweatpants and a long black t-shirt. A black bucket hat is on her head, seemingly hiding her bed head if the knotted bits of the hair he can see tell anything.

She's usually more put together, but then again, it is the weekend. Not everyone should be expected to go all out to look decent when they aren't working.

But there is one thing that hasn't changed; the girl is still simple as hell looking.

She doesn't have a bit of make-up on as she rubs her eyes.

He gets up to follow her once she's about two blocks away.

Jungkook shakes his head when he sees that even though her outfit is completely devoid of color today, she still has that damned bag covered in colorful treats.

It seems like today this girl is on a mission. She walks briskly and not a single thing distracts her. She only stops once, to get a small bite of lunch from a food stand. Jungkook realizes where they're headed a second before the girl stops.

She looks into the window of the store and waves at the brown puppy. It wags its tail at her and she smiles for the first time that Jungkook's seen today.

The girl goes into the store and Jungkook follows a minute later.

He sees her talking to a woman at the front. She points at the dogs in the front window and the woman nods with a smile. A minute later, the girl has the brown puppy in her arms as she's sitting in one of the little places with a bench and walls to keep the dogs that are being held from getting out.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Jungkook flinches and turns to see the woman that helped the girl looking at him with a smile. "Oh, uh...I, uh..." Jungkook looks around frantically, then he points at a little black kitten that's sitting in a big cage, staring at him.

"Can I uh...hold that kitten?"

Why the hell is he so awkward??

The woman smiles brighter and nods, "Of course! Come with me."

Jungkook tries not to groan in frustration as he follows her to the kitten's cage. This wasn't part of the plan, but whatever.

The little ball of fluff mewls when the woman takes it out and hands it to a very stressed Jungkook.

Damn it.

He flinches when the kitten licks his nose. The woman laughs, "Looks like he's finally found someone he likes. No one that's ever come in here to hold him has ever had him more than a few seconds before he freaked out."

Jungkook forces himself to smile at the employee. Then, he turns to keep an eye on the girl, pretending like he's just talking to the kitten.

"Hi, little guy." He speaks softly, his eyes shifting to see the girl hugging the puppy close to her chest.

After a few minutes, the girl reluctantly hands the puppy back to the store employee, her eyes watering as she talks to the little dog.

"I p-promise I'll come back and b-buy you next t-time, okay?" Then she hurries out of the store, making Jungkook hand the kitten to a random employee. "I might get him another time." He says in a rush before hurrying out after her.

The day is spent much like it is after she gets off work every day. The girl gets some steamed buns and walks through the park, humming along to whatever song is playing in her headphones. Jungkook strolls along behind her, going through the plan over and over again in his head to make sure he isn't missing anything.

He's pretty sure he's got it all down to the last detail, nothing should go wrong tonight. This target is quite predictable, but there's always that chance that they pull something that you don't expect. Jungkook doubts that'll happen with this girl, but he can't be positive. After all, if she is acting, then she could turn it on him in an instant.

Jungkook watches the girl doubtfully as she tries to stuff more steamed bun into her mouth than it can take.

Geez.

Then the girl suddenly plops down on the ground. Jungkook stops and sits on a nearby bench to watch her. She sets her paper bag of remaining steamed buns on the grass next to her, then pulls out the drawing notebook that Jungkook has seen her use several times this week.

The girl gets right to work, her nose stuffed into the notebook as she scribbles madly. Jungkook fights the urge to get up and look over her shoulder at what she's drawing. He used to love to draw when he was younger. When the world wasn't such a brutal place to live in and be accepted.

Jungkook leans back on the bench and tilts his head up to the sky as he closes his eyes. He gets the feeling that they're going to be here for a while. Besides, he can still hear her drawing, no need to keep an eye on her. The feeling of the warm sun on his skin makes some distant memories try and sneak their way into his brain, but Jungkook immediately blocks them out.

He takes a deep breath of the fresh June air through his nose, then blows it out through his mouth slowly. Hell, he's exhausted.

Jungkook reaches a hand up to snatch his black baseball cap off and sets it in his lap. Then he starts to massage the back of his neck, his eyes still closed. He feels like he hasn't had nearly enough sleep this week, the stress of just wanting to get this blasted job done keeping him up at night.

The sound of the girl drawing and mumbling to herself reaches Jungkook's ears as he continues to massage his neck. Then he moves down and starts to rub the tense part of his shoulder close to his neck. After that, Jungkook moves his hands to start massaging his face. He rubs his eyes and temples, moving down to his cheeks.

"Hello, mister."

Jungkook flinches at the tiny voice and his eyes fly open as he yanks his hands from his face.

There's a very very small girl standing in front of him, her long black hair in two braids on either side of her face. Her huge dark eyes stare into Jungkook's as he calms his breathing.

Fucking hell. Scared the shit out of me.

"What do you-"

Jungkook cuts himself off when the little girl steps even closer until she's standing in between his spread legs. He leans back, one of his eyebrows rising in confusion.

The hell does this girl want?

Jungkook looks around to see if he can find her mother or father. When he looks back at her, she's smiling shyly, her wide eyes still staring straight into his soul.

"What do you need?" He snaps.

She doesn't react to his sharp tone, she just reaches out and snags his baseball cap. Jungkook tries to protest but she places it on her head anyway. She looks even tinier if that's possible, his hat looking positively massive on her small head. "My name is Mi-Rah." She whispers.

Jungkook feels a twist in his stomach. This innocent child shouldn't be anywhere near someone like him. He kills people for a living.

Where on earth are her parents? Have they taught her nothing about stranger danger?

Then Mi-Rah reaches into her pocket and pulls out a piece of candy in a very crumpled wrapper. She takes Jungkook's large hand and places it into his open palm. "You look very sad, mister. Sometimes all we need to feel happy is something sweet, no matter how small."

Jungkook tears his eyes away from the little candy and looks at the tiny girl in disbelief. How old is she?

"Uh...thank you-"

"You don't have to thank me, mister. Maybe just...make someone else smile today. Give someone else a chance to be happy." The little girl says simply. Then she takes his hat off her head and places it back onto his own before turning and running off.

What the hell.

That girl spoke like an adult, but she couldn't have been any older than seven. Jungkook shakes his head, then glances at the candy. It has a bit of lint on it, there's no way in hell he's gonna eat that. So, without thinking, he stuffs it into his pocket, then his eyes shift over to where the girl is drawing.

Except she isn't there.

"Fuck." Jungkook jumps up and whips his head around, scanning the park. When he doesn't see a single sign of her, a growl leaves his throat and he starts walking. If that kid hadn't distracted him, this wouldn't have happened.

Jungkook walks around for a good two hours, but he hasn't seen the girl once. Now he's starting to panic. The sun will start going down soon.

What if she already went home?

His plan would be ruined.

Crap.

Jungkook takes his cap off and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He doesn't want to have to wait another day to get this over with.

One more hour passes as Jungkook frantically walks around the city. He even goes to the girl's apartment to see if he can tell if she went home, but all the lights inside are off so she probably isn't in there.

After another hour, the sun is down.

Jungkook curses and kicks at a little stone on the sidewalk, watching it roll into the grass. He fucked up. He got distracted and now he's going to have to do this all over again tomorrow if he's even lucky enough that the girl will go out and stay out all day tomorrow.

After all these years, he's never lost a target before. He feels like an idiot. Out of all the hits he's had, every single one, this weird-ass kindergarten teacher is the one he loses. All because he let some kid come and distract him for a second.

He curses again and resists the urge to throw a punch at something, anything.

Jungkook turns around, ready to head home and curse himself until the day he dies. But he stops short when he sees a familiar figure walking down the street. A bucket hat covers their face, but the unmistakably ridiculous bag is hanging from her shoulder.

"Fucking hell." Jungkook sighs in relief as he watches the girl make her way towards the alley. His luck is back! The second the girl turns into the dark and desolate walkway, Jungkook follows her in.

She's singing softly to herself as she walks slowly, taking her time. As if there isn't a killer looming right behind her.

Jungkook pulls the gun he grabbed from his safe earlier out of his back pocket. The girl stops, then crouches to pick something up as Jungkook switches the safety off his gun.

He raises it slowly.

A tiny laugh slips out of the girl's mouth as she messes with something on the ground, her smaller figure crouched on the dirty cement of the alley.

Jungkook aims carefully, he's got a perfect target.

He can do it.

He can be done with this.

So, why isn't he pulling the trigger?

Jungkook shakes his head and raises the gun again.

Fuck.

The girl stands up again and starts to walk quickly.

Shit, shit, shit Jungkook scrambles after her, almost tripping on the trash piled in the alley. She happens to be the one to trip on it first. Her arms flail out and a tiny shriek leaves her mouth as she tumbles to the ground. "Ow." He hears her whimper quietly. "Owie." She pulls her right knee out from under her and pulls her sweats up enough to see the small cut on it. Ok, enough dilly-dallying Jungkook. Get it done. Jungkook raises the gun once more as the girl gets to her feet and starts to walk away. He's about to call out and get her attention so he can get her from the front. Make it look like a robbery gone bad. That's when he sees the papers on the ground that had fallen out of her bag when she fell. He doesn't know what possesses him to look closer, but he does. Shock courses through him at the drawings he sees. They're fucking terrible. They look like a four-year-old drew them, the coloring not even in the lines she drew. What the hell even is that? A fucking bird? There's something that looks kind of like an apple tree next to the deformed-looking bird thing. Another picture shows an awfully drawn lollipop. Who messes up a lollipop? Jungkook looks up at the girl, who has stopped to look at her phone. "Give someone else a chance to be happy." The tiny girl's words suddenly ring through his mind and Jungkook swallows thickly. He lowers the gun, his arm hanging limply at his side.   "Damn it." The girl swivels when she hears the voice of a man behind her, but when she turns there's no one there. She glances at the dumpsters and trash bags and listens intently. When she doesn't hear anything, she quickly turns and runs out of the alley. She runs the rest of the way home, only stopping when she's gotten inside and locked her door. ________________

"Fucking stupid!" Jungkook screams and throws the gun onto his bed. Why the hell did he hesitate? He never hesitates. He's shot dozens of people dead and he never blinked an eye. Why? Why now? This is the most paying job he's ever gotten and now he's fucked it up! He got distracted. That's all. If he hadn't spoken to that kid today or seen those stupid drawings, he wouldn't have messed up. "Ok, that's it," Jungkook growls and stomps over to the file sitting on his coffee table. It's been sitting there since Sunday a week ago. He grabs it and opens it angrily, a few papers spilling out and onto the floor. He doesn't bother cleaning them up. He just grabs the last one, the folded picture of the target. Jungkook unfolds it and glares at the image of the smiling girl. "I don't give a fuck why you're a target. I'm going to fucking kill you on Monday and that's it!" Then he tears the picture in half. He tosses it onto the coffee table and slumps down onto his couch, mentally exhausted. _______________ Jungkook spends Sunday holed up in his apartment. He's never been so pissed at himself before. No more distractions. If he doesn't get this done tomorrow, he doesn't know what he'll do. This hit is driving him insane. The only time he leaves his apartment is when Hoseok knocks and asks him to come over for dinner. As much as he would rather do anything but that, he agrees with a plastered smile. Jungkook sits at Hoseok's dining table awkwardly as his neighbor plates up the fried rice he made and hands a plate to him. "Thank you." Jungkook takes it and his stomach growls the second he smells the food. This is the first homecooked meal he's had in...well as long as he can remember. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door, and Hoseok laughs, "Oh, I almost forgot! I hope you don't mind, I invited some more of my friends over." Jungkook shakes his head, "I don't mind at all." When Hoseok opens the door, Jungkook sees a tall handsome man with broad shoulders and black hair walk in. He's taken by surprise by the man's beauty for a split second before he snaps out of it and sees another man walk in. This one is shorter and his hair is bleached blonde. The first man has a huge smile on his face and the second looks like his face has been set into a permanent look of uninterest. "Hi! You must be Jungkook!" The taller man says happily, reaching a hand out to shake Jungkook's. The younger man nods, "Yes, I am." "I'm Seokjin! And this is Yoongi." The handsome man turns and points at the blonde. Yoongi nods and sends Jungkook a small smile. "Nice to meet you," Jungkook responds politely, trying not to be awkward as hell. The only person he's really spoken to as an acquaintance for years is Hoseok, and he's only known him a little less than a year. Dinner goes by rather smoothly and the food is delicious, but Jungkook is grateful when he finally steps back into his own apartment. He's usually good at faking with people, part of his job is to charm people and put all suspicion off of himself. Tonight was different though, he felt exposed and like he couldn't put up a facade with those men. He takes a long hot shower, trying to wash away all the stress from the past week. When he's out of the shower and in his shorts, Jungkook crawls into bed and turns out the light. He blankly stares into the darkness for a while, trying not to let his brain run rampid so he can sleep. But he thinks back to the dinner a little while ago, anyway. Seokjin and Yoongi were nice, and Hoseok has always been kind to him. But, Jungkook feels uncomfortable, he feels off. He just isn't cut out for friends. He's a killer. That's all he is and that's all he'll ever be. And killers are meant to be alone. ______________ Jungkook sighs as he sits on the bench in front of the school. Hopefully, this will be the last day he has to do this. The girl had already gone into the kindergarten hours ago, it's nearing the end of the school day. All he has to do is tough it out until tonight. If the girl doesn't stay out till dark, he'll just have to lure her out of her apartment later somehow. He'll figure that out when he comes to it. The bell rings and Jungkook gets up to buy a paper from the old man that he's become quite acquainted with this past week. The two of them chat it up a bit as Jungkook watches the school doors. Eventually, he sees the girl leading a long line of kids out the front doors and down into the grass to wait to be picked up. It takes a little longer than usual, but finally, all the kids are gone and the girl goes back inside. When she comes out and starts walking down the street, Jungkook follows on the other side. As he walks he keeps an eye on her, but that means he isn't looking ahead. "Umph!" Jungkook jumps back in surprise when he sees a little old woman glaring at him after he ran into her. "Oh, sorry. I'm sorry." Jungkook bows his head in apology and the old woman nods curtly before walking around him. He looks back across the street, only to groan at seeing the girl is nowhere to be seen. "Not again." Jungkook moans in dismay. Then he jumps a mile high when he feels someone tap his shoulder. "Excuse m-me, sir." Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him. She's clutching a piece of paper in her hands as a smile spreads on her face when she looks at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught. "Th-This is for you." She holds out the paper. Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving hers. When the initial shock leaves his body, Jungkook tears his eyes away from the girl and looks down at what she gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target. What the hell is this?

_____________________________

a/n: I hope you guys like this one. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first. Let me know what you think <3

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #BTS jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #bts smut #hitman!jk

[obitohno]

pillow talk [SAMPLE] | hanma x reader

synopsis: after vowing to loathe hanma for as long as you live, you somehow end up tangled in his bedsheets

themes: fem! reader, nsfw, 18+, enemies to lovers, one night stand, the morning after, unrequited love

a/n: please not that this is a sample. i’m currently writing a new one shot for hanma, bc i’m a huge sucker for the enemies-to-lovers troupe n i feel like it was made for hanma. idk what the word count is bc i’ve been writing this on my phone, n i’m yet to transfer it to my laptop, but here is a sample of what i’ve written so far. i’m really excited to finish this, it’s just taking me longer bc my new job is draining me so much rn :/ n bc i also pls for this to (potentially) be longer than my other fics. hopefully i’ll be able to finish it over the weekend, but! pls tell me what you think, via comments or dms, bc i’d really like some feedback as to whether people would like to read more.

update: i’ve now completed this story. you can now read the finished version here.

likes, reblogs, follows and feedback are appreciated ~

there are many emotions that you can associate with each time the fates decide to test your misfortunate knack of bumping into hanma shuji, but happiness isn’t one of them. and unfortunately for you, today is yet another of those days.

you’ve never been able to pinpoint the exact reason why the mere sight of his face is enough to irate you, nor are you able to explain why just an utterance of his name influences the instinctive reflex to roll your eyes before you’re able to stop it from happening. most of the time, you like to think of yourself as the better person, but there comes a time when one must simply accept that they are not above disliking someone enough to sneak into the office kitchen to swap the salt with the sugar just to see their arch nemesis grimace into their morning cup of coffee during the weekly team meeting. and there must also come a time when one will be humbled, embarrassed, or suffer at the hands of karma, no matter how much it may sacrifice the reputation of your own ego. or his, for that matter.

and today is that day.

you don’t notice anything unusual when you first wake, refusing to open your eyes when you regain enough wit about yourself to recognise the heat of this morning’s sun burning into your right cheek. your left is pressed into the pillow beneath your head, your limbs splayed in all directions under the bedsheets. you can feel a tendril of hair tickling your forehead with each upward breath that is puffed from between your lips, which, with one flick of your tongue, feel dry due to lack of hydration. it is with this discomfort that your eyes finally blink open with great effort, lids drooping with exhaustion. for a long, blissful moment, you’re not conscious enough to recognise that this, in fact, is not your bed. nor is it your bedroom, either.

that long, blissful moment continues as you move to stifle a yawn with the back of your hand, eyes blinking to regain some sort of coherency. only then, do you realise that your prone form is tangled in a mess of grey, silken bedsheets that do not belong to you. instantly, your spine stiffens, rigid with the brief flicker of anxiousness that has rendered you frozen. this pause stretches for far longer than what is probably deemed necessary, and before you take a proper look around you, you’re throwing the sheets back and stumbling from the ridiculously comfortable mattress, almost tripping over your own feet in your panic. there’s a bedside table that looks to be carved from an expensive oak—the sight of which makes your nose turn up—but nonetheless, it is what you reach out for when your ankle rolls painfully and you stifle a yelp by pushing your top row of teeth into the plush cushioning of your bottom lip. only, it seems that it’s unnecessary for you to catch your balance on the bedside table, but at that exact moment, the other occupant of the room reaches out and curls their fingers around your wrist in order to steady your balance.

this time, you do scream; a stressed noise that even makes you wince, and you yank your wrist free whilst simultaneously losing said balance and landing hard on the ground. the impact forces a shocked grunt from your mouth, but you’re not focused on that, because you’ve now realised that you’ve awoken—as naked as the day you were born—in the bed of someone you do not know.

except, the fates decide to prove you wrong, because the stranger breaks the silence, speaking in a low baritone that has served nothing but to aggravate you in every single possible way for the past decade.

‘what you doin’ down there?’

and then, a shock of dark hair—mixed with bleached strands of golden-yellow—appears within your line of sight as he peers over the edge of the mattress to eye your sprawled form on the floor. heavily lidded eyes dance across your naked skin, but you’re too busy gawking at him in horror to recognise the flicker of arousal that passes over his features. when your jaw finally has the mind to stop hanging open, it snaps shut and your brows lower, pulling together as you glower up at him, thrusting an accusatory index finger in his face.

‘you!’

and he, in typical hanma fashion, smirks. mockingly, he raises his own hand to point at his own bare chest, his other palm occupied by the weight of his head as he leans on it, appearing very comfortable with looking down at you. ‘me?’ he drawls, smirk widening when you finally recognise that you’re not wearing any clothes, and you rush to sit up, hands scrambling to grip the bedsheets and yank them from the bed in a desperate attempt to hide your nakedness from his greedy eyes. in doing so, though, you’d failed to think of the possibility that he’d be just as naked as you are, and your cheeks are lit aflame upon the sight of his cock, semi-hard against the crook of his thigh, nestled amongst a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. he isn’t nearly as embarrassed as you are—in fact, he only seems to be amused at your current predicament—and he simply lazes across the bare mattress, the corners of his eyes stretching slightly as he grins wide enough to bare his teeth at you. the sight makes your stomach twist with something that isn’t quite like disgust, but you promptly ignore it in favour of glaring at his stupid, smug face instead.

‘y-you!’ you splutter again, recognising the burning feeling of anger quickly settling in the centre of your chest. your voice is shrill as you demand, ‘what the hell are you doing here!?’

he looks at you pointedly, a single, black eyebrow quirking up toward his hairline, ‘i live here?’

you have nothing to say to that, so instead, you redirect your anger toward the very obvious elephant in the room—how in the hells did you end up in his room? his bed? when you voice these questions aloud, you watch his eyebrows pinch together in what you can only describe as thinly veiled annoyance.

‘what? you don’t remember?’

he sounds angrier than you’d expected, but it only fuels your own irritation, an emotion that isn’t foreign to you, especially when it concerns him. ‘obviously not,’ you snap at him, eyes wandering over the expanse of his thighs, all the way down to his ankles. you follow the lines and curves of his muscles as he pushes himself upright, eyes narrowing down at you.

it’s no secret that the two of you don’t get along. you’d immediately taken to disliking him when you first met as teenagers, and it appeared that he’d felt the same. then, you’d graduated from university, and you had made the mistake of thinking that you had finally escaped from seeing his insufferable face every damned day, only to have the misfortune of accepting a secretarial role at one of the largest law firms in the country, and being introduced to the senior partner, hanma-fucking-shuji, on the very first day. and, much like in his teenage years, hanma had made sure to live up to his infuriating nickname—the reaper—and has continued to make your life a living hell ever since.

[SAMPLE: end] please let me know what you think!

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

#♡ obitohno is writing ♡ #tokyo revengers #tokrev #toman #bonten #hanma #tokrev smut #tokrev headcanons #tokrev oneshot #tokrev x you #tokrev x reader #hanma shuji #tokyo revengers x you #hanma x you #hanma x reader #hanma smut #hanma shuuji smut #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma headcanons #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers oneshot #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers hanma #anime headcanons #anime oneshot

[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

/////////////////////////

“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

#tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland blurb #harry holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst #peter parker

[hnychn]

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 [𝐈𝐈𝐈]

sypnosis : life with your five lovers has been more than fulfilling, but when you're paired with a student from general studies for a project, your quintet seems a little less full

word count : 4000+

warnings : mutual pining, gender neutral reader, relationship insecurities, bakugo tries but. . .it doesn't go as well as he planned, grammar errors and spelling errors, it's . . . a long one, a bit rushed at the end so uhh pls don't mind that :)

parts : [ 𝐈 ] [ 𝐈𝐈 ] [ 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ]

a/n : so sorry for the long wait LMAO- i know i said my bokuto fic would be coming out today but uhhh ahaha my depression hit me full force this weekend and i didn't even look at the dock because i was too busy sleeping, but uhh enjoy this :D

↩︎ back to student masterlist | main mha masterlist

- WELCOME TO PART THREE sorry for the log wait 😭 life has been kicking my ass but we're not here to hear me complain, we're here for the tea

- so, it's a couple months after you joined the bakusquad and their relationship. and let me tell you, it has been nothing but amazing. 😩 your days are never quiet and they're always filled with some sort of excitement and love.

- you kaminari and mina often get into trouble for leaving the dorms late at night because you want snacks and there's nothing in the kitchens. you become kirishima's pillow, don't matter about your size or whatever, you are his pillow and you better not argue 🔫 sero always puts on some type of bachata or reggaeton or some spanish song and dances with you in his dorms. and bakugo is your go to person to cook with and just generally annoy or prank since it's so easy to get a reaction out of him.

- and you couldn't have asked for a better relationship. you all are so communicative and talk about your feelings often and how you're doing. every saturday or sunday, you all go to a dorm (usually it's bakugo's cause it's the cleanest) and have a huge cuddle pile and talk about your mental states, how you're doing, what you have problems with, etc etc.

- like damn ok i see you with the mentally and emotionally stable relationship 🤪🤪

- it's so refreshing too because sometimes you'll have a tough week and you jsut need to let it all out, and you can in the comfort of bakugo's dorm and you know none of them will judge you because they're all so open about their love for you (and vise versa)

- anyways, yeah y'all got the best relationship

- you never thought about anyone else in a romantic sense because the squad took up nearly all of the space in your heart. but when you teacher announced one day the general studies kids would be coming in to have a joint project to create gadgets for the hero course students, you had no idea your life would suddenly be turned upsidedown.

- you were paired with a guy named shinsou. he looked friendly enough and returned the wave you sent him with a little surprise as he made his way to the open seat next to you. he seemed surprised when you started a small conversation but he talked to you in a quiet soothing voice. he seemed nice enough and you figured the project would be a breeze since he seemed so nice and offered to meet up over the weekend to start up some ideas for the project.

- you agreed and the two of you met up that lunch period in the library to pre-draft some ideas and get to know each other more.

"i'm surprised you don't mind being seen with me."

his sudden comment took you by surprise as you looked up from your paper with messily drawn gadgets and chicken scratch writing to look up at him, "what do you mean?"

it was true you had never seen him before or even heard of him, but his hesitance to talk to you and open up to you made you feel as though you should.

shinsou rubbed the back of his neck and looked away shyly, "so you really haven't heard anything about me, have you?"

he looked almost guilty to bring it up, his gaze falling to the table in front of him as be played with a strand of his hair.

you shook your head. you never really payed attention to gossip around school, your head always too high up in the clouds to care about rumors and gossip (bakugo often scolded you for being such an airhead and ignorant to your surroundings, but you knew he was just worried about something happening to you). plus, to you, gossip was nearly never right and more often made up and fictitious.

shinsou refused to look up at you, "well. . .i'm known throughout the school as a. . ." he looked hesitant to continue but before you could reassure him he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to, he continued, "well, a villain."

he prised his lips as if the words left a bitter taste in his mouth, and all you could do was tilt your head. shinsou didn't seem like a bad person - or a 'villain' as he had said. on the way to the library he held open doors for you and helped you carry some of your books to your locker and even bought you a drink you wanted buy but were a bit short of change on.

"do you think you are?"

"what?" shinsou looked at you for the first time since he brought up the topic.

"do you think you're a villain?" he shuffled slightly in his seat and looked away again from your intense stare. he felt like you were looking straight into his soul from how strongly you were looking into his eyes, he wasn't sure if you had even blinked in the last minute.

shinsou thought back to all the times he's been called a villain or a criminal. it was always unwarranted, a passing comment that seemed like no big deal to others but shattered his heart into smaller and smaller pieces. but never once had he ever thought he was a villain - a monster.

if anything, he used those comments as encouragement to become a hero, to be better than those who always thought he would turn to a life of crime. so, "no... i don't think i'm a villain."

"well, that's that."

shinsou could only stare at you, your smile brighter than any star he'd ever seen, so full of hope and encouragement shinsou felt like he could take on the world. he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, a shy smile pulling at his lips and a weird feeling blossoming in his chest. how curious. . .

- so yeah, a new friendship 🤪 the two of you started to spend a lot of free time together for the project. you would often meet up during lunches or free time between classes to work some more on the project, all the while getting to know each other in depth. you learned many things about shinsou and spilled many of your own secrets, you laughed together over old childhood stories, and played animal crossing on the rooftop during lunch, your project discarded and forgotten beside you.

- your sudden absence didn't go unnoticed by your lovers, and they grew curious to your whereabouts when you would blow them off for the fifth time that week to "work on your project". now, don't get me wrong, they had conplete trust in you and knew you would never cheat, but they were just curious as to what - or who - was taking up so much of your time.

- so, they did the smartest thing, and followed you. after blowing them off for the sixth time, they decided to follow you to your destination. mina and kaminari tried to be inconspicuous and wear disguises, but the fake mustache, black glasses (indoors, might i add) and hat weren't all too discreet as they thought.

- they followed you through every turn and weave you took and hid behind a corner when you stopped at a vending machine to get your favourite drink. but what surprised them the most was you also bought a coffee. bakugo was most surprised you even thought about even touching the can of caffine because he remembered you telling him you would get terrible caffine rushes that would make you dizzy if you drank coffee.

- but, as you finally reached the rooftop and made your way to a hunched over figure in the corner, it all made sense.

- they all saw how effortlessly you and shinsou acted around each other. they could see the soft looks he would send you when you weren't looking and the way his hand would hover over yours for a split second too long before snapping away as if you were made of lava. but surprisingly, they didn't feel any sort of jealousy or anger, it felt like a piece of them had returned they didn't even know was missing. the sort of feeling that walks through the door unexpectedly but it's wholesomely welcomed.

- the "oh, there you are, welcome back" type of feeling. they were happy you had found someone that made you feel comfortable, arguably more comfortable than you had been with them so far because truthfully, while you had felt welcomed and appreciated in the relationship, it still felt like you were an outsider. the five of them had inside jokes before you came and didn't get them when they came up, the five of them had habits special to each other that inadvertently excluded you. and while they never meant to hurt you (god knows that's the last thing they ever wanted to do), they had. but you knew that wasn't their intention so you held no malitious feelings towards them (not that you think you'd ever could).

- but the way you and shinsou so effortlessly opened up to each other, shared intimate details and secrets with each other - it warmed their hearts. so, bakugo grabbed them all by the back of their shirts and dragged them away, mumbling about giving the two of you space. there was a fond look in his eyes as he looked at the two of you he would be teased about later but would deny.

- it was undeniable bakugo held the softest spot for you. he tried as best as he could to include you in their inside jokes and habits but he was. . well . . . bakugo 🧍🏽‍♀️

- words aren't necessarily his strong suit and he could only hope his smaller actions let you know you were as loved and cherished as any of them there. and you knew, you caught on a little after bakugo had a little "secret talk" with the group (that wasn't really secret at all, he grabbed them all by their shirts and dragged them to a secluded spot while you distracted on your phone) and they all started to explain their jokes and include you in their habits.

- anyways, back to you and shinsou. 🤪 he was aware you were in a ployamorous relationship with the bakusquad and he's heard the way you talk about them and the soft airy tone of your voice and the starry look in your eyes; and he didn't want to get in between that. the last thing he ever wanted was to ruin your relationship for his own selfish reasons.

- so for the time being, he would be okay with watching you from afar, the sweetness of your love so close for him to taste; yet too far for him to savour.

- as more and more times passed, the bakusquad began to notice the lingering looks you would give shinsou when you passed him in the halls and how he would always be waiting for you outside of your class with your favourite drink before leaving you to go to lunch while he went off and . . . well, you weren't sure what he did during his free time, but he never brought it up so you never figured to ask.

- when you fell asleep the next time you all had a cuddle session in bakugo's room, they all talked about it. talked about your obvious feelings for each other and the possibility of including shinsou in their relationship. they spent hours talking about it and still talked about it even when the moon vanished over the horizon and the sun rose. and, in not very smart fashion, bakugo was tasked to confronting shinsou about their conclusion.

- which - almost as if there were an author behind all of this - didn't go as well as any of them planned.

it was perfect, really. almost as if the universe had been listening to their conversation and aligned itself perfectly for this very moment.

you woke up that morning with a terrible stomach ache and chose to stay back in your dorm after bakugo made you a bowl of soup and threatened you to take your medicine. his classes ended a little earlier than usual and, sending his lover's a nod, made his way over to your class, where, lo and behold, shinsou was standing near the door, the familiar brand of your favourite drink in one hand and his own cold coffee in the other.

bakugo wasn't sure what he was going to say when he reached shinsou. he opted to just speak from the heart over rehearsing lines with the others like they had wanted, besides, what kind of lover would be be if he couldn't even do this for you? but, what he didn't take into consideration, was his emotional constipation and tsundere attidute.

"hey, eye bags!" bakugo called out.

shinsou nearly jumped out of his skin at bakugo's sudden loud voice. he looked over with the same eyes of indifference he normally had, but bakugo could see the slight far in them. not at his brash attitude (shinsou could never be afriad of bakugo and confronting him before the sports fesitval was a perfect example of that) but the fear of ruining your relationship with the bakusquad.

shinsou nodded at bakugo when he got close enough. bakugo stood in front of him, his hands still shoved into the pockets of his pants, "they're sick."

it was a simple enough statement but shinsou blinked, "what?"

"y/n." bakugo stated and rolled his eyes as if the answer had been written on his forehead (and it basically had, shinsou was just a bit shocked at his appearance), "they're sick and mina's staying back with them in their dorm."

shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, "oh."

there was an awkward silence as the two boys stood in the vacant hallway. bakugo didn't know what to say and shinsou wasn't sure if he should leave or go visit you for their lunch break.

"i'll go drop this off to them-"

"no." bakugo practically growled, "i'll drop it off. go get eat your lunch or i'll make your face an eye bag."

shinsou flushed a bit in embarrassment. he was overstepping, of course he was. for a minute, having you all to himself for nearly a week straight made him forget about the relationship you were in and this was a smack of reality. you weren't his. you were in a relationship with others, other people who could give you nearly double what he could - everything he couldn't.

handing bakugo the drink, shinsou stalked away to the cafeteria, his cheeks still a light shade of pink. bakugo sighed and knew he most likely made things worse, and he came there originally to make things right.

but fate will work itself out. and what will be, will be.

- so... maybe sending bakugo wasn't the best idea ... 🧍🏽‍♀️

- because now, shinsou started avoiding you. when the two for you worked on your projects together, he would remain mostly silent and only input his opinion when he thought of an idea or needed help putting something together. you had no idea why and you honestly felt a little hurt that he ignored you as easily as breathing.

- you brought this up to your lovers on your weekly cuddle session, knowing they would have brought up your downpour attitude either way. what you didn't notice as your face was burried in denki's sweater were the glares they all were throwing at bakugo.

- "yeah, i wonder what happened..." sero smiled, though obviously strained, as he pet your head and told you shinsou was probably just going through something.

- and it was obvious you were hurt that shinsou had suddenly stopped talking to you because honestly it was kind of hard for you to make friends. a lot of people assumed you thought you were higher than everyone else because you were dating five students from the top hero course, but that obviously is far from the truth.

- anyways, a long time goes by and the two of you still haven't rekindled anything and the squad is getting a bit frustrated because hello??? join our cult lover circle ?????

- so the squad comes up with another solution and this time they don't send bakugo to collect shinsou

- they learned their mistake last time.

- anyways

- so sero goes and gets shinsou and tells him you need him for a little last touch of the project since it was near the due date and you wanted to make sure it was perfect. and shinsou agrees to meet up with you and follows sero.

- sero takes him into an empty classroom and it's pitch black. the windows have been covered with tape and all the lights are off. before he could ask what the hell was going on, the door slams shut and the lights suddenly turn on and shinsou's blinded for a moment.

- and he's met with a very interesting sight.

- mina, kaminari, and kirishima are standing in front of him with sunglasses and hats on, their arms are crossed and they have a blank look on their faces (though he can tell kaminari is about to burst into laughter and nearly does but kirishima jabs him in his side.)

- "uhh..."

- "shut up, eye bags." bakugo calls from behind him. he's leaning against the door with his arms crossed and an obviously pissed off look on his face.

- sero is just standing next to him with a 'sorry pal' kind of smile.

- "what is-"

- "what are your intentions with, y/n?" kaminari shouted suddenly as he slammed his hand on a nearby desk.

- "denki- no." mina pushed him back lightly, "that's not what-"

- "did you not listen last night, sparky?" bakugo rolled his eyes and scoffed lightly.

- kaminari shyly scratched his cheek, "i might have fellen asleep-"

- "he did." sero confirmed, "he drooled on me and everything.

- "I do not drool!!"

- "yes you do, it was like a waterfall, 'ki. "

- "no i don't, right kiri?"

- "well.. only a few drops.."

- "WHAT?! and none of you told me?!"

- "well, y/n kind of made us promise not to tell..."

- "SPEAKING OF Y/N," mina interjected into the conversation, her fingers rubbing at her temples as she wondered when she became the rational one, that was bakugo's job, "why don't we stick to the script, boys."

- kirishima slung an arm over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "sorry, princess."

- "right." sero turned to shinsou and crossed his arms, "you have feelings for them don't you?"

- shinsou tensed. his mind was still trying to comprehend the conversation that happened just a few seconds ago and processing the fact that kaminari drools in his sleep. he wasn't sure how to respond.

- of course he had feelings for you, any rational person who came into contact with you would catch feelings. it was part of your natural charm that seemed to effortlessly draw people in and never let them go. in a matter of minutes, you had simultaneously become his best friend and his closest confidant. often at night he cursed himself for catching feelings for you when things were perfect just the way they were.

- but shinsou couldn't help it. you had treated him like a normal person and weren't apprehensive about his quirk. you gave him a taste of normalcy in his world of anxieties and judgement, and he craved more and more the more time he spent with you.

- so dispte wanting to desparately scream 'yes, i do love her' at the top of his lungs, he looked down at the ground, "no. . . i . . i don't."

- "liar."

- bakugo seethed behind him.

- shoving himself off the wall he was leaning on, bakugo walked closer and closer to shinsou as he spoke, "don't lie. we all see the way you look at them, the way your stupid face lights up with a small smile when they're with you or the airy chuckle you give when they do one of those stupid dances when they make food and-"

- "OK OK I GET IT!" shinsou snapped. mina jumped slightly in kirishima's arms and shinsou sent her a small apologetic look, "you know! I'm in love with them! i've been. . ." he trailed off before collapsing into a chair behind him, his head hanging back and staring into the bright flourescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

- "i've been trying to distance myself from them, to make getting over them easier."

- "they've been hurting, y'know."

- shinsou groaned and hid his face in his hands, "i know. you think i don't see the looks they give me when i avoid them in the halls? it hurts knowing i'm the reason they're in pain."

- "so why are you doing it?"

- "because they have you guys," shinsou sighed as it if we're the most obvious thing in the world, "you all could love them a lot more than i ever could alone. plus, they're so happy with you, i couldn't be the reason to disturb that."

- "you gotta be fucking kidding me." bakugo growled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

- kaminari snorted, "i think i just got deja vu."

- "you could say that again," mina sighed, "i'm heading back to the dorms, this is giving me a headache."

- with his arm still slung over her shoulder, kirishima agreed, "yeah, not sure how we didn't see this from the beginning. i'll walk you back, princess."

- shinsou only stared blankly as mina and kirishima left the room with kaminari in tow, complaining about getting some math work done. never in his life did he feel as confused as he did now

- lost. mans was lost..

- someone get him a map and help him please

- they acted as if they hadn't been the ones to literally kidnap him

- only to nonchalantly walk out the door?????

- sero's voice snapped him back to the remaining two people in the room, "you two really are a match made in heaven." sero smiled at him and shinsou felt head rise in his cheeks, whether it be from embarassment or something else, he didn't know.

- "i'll see you two around" and then he left, leaving shinsou alone with bakugo, who had yet to realease the bridge of his nose from his pinch.

- "you're both a pair of dumbasses."

- "i'm offended-"

- "y/n said the same fucking thing when we confronted them."

- shinsou stayed silent.

- "they felt like their presence would ruin the routine we had set a long time ago when we first started our relationship. . . sound familiar?"

- shinsou rubbed the back of his neck and opened his mouth to speak, but bakugo interrupted.

- "shut up, eye bags, i'm not finished."

- "i dIdNt eVEn sAy aNyTHiNg"

- "sure there were some things we had to adjust to include them in our schedule and a whole new bundle of emotions to incorporate into our lives; but the while point of a relationship is to open up slowly and learn to trust the ones you love. and eventually, we all learned to trust them the same way they learned to trust us; but trust isn't something you can learn over night. it's gradual."

- bakugo sighed, how in the hell did he get stuck in this situation again. at the very least no one got injured this time, "what I'm trying to say is, if y/n makes you happy, then we're all willing to let you in our relationship and put our trust in you.

- "will you put your trust in us?"

- how dramatic ˙ ͜ʟ˙

- so

- :) shinsou decides, fuck it. i deserve the good things in life, and he puts his trust in the squad the same way they all put their trust in him.

- and they decided it was a good time to surprise you too and kill two birds with one stone :)

- so you walk in to bakugo's dorm after a long day of school. you were returning from turning in your project with shinsou, and while the teacher had given you many compliments and basically secured your A, you still felt a bit sad knowing it would be the last time you would see shinsou since your schedules didn't collide and you had ended on a . . . confusing note.

- so you were just looking to cuddle with your lovers on a Friday night and wallow away in your sadness.

- when you walked in the group had been piled in their natural spots on bakugo's bed. mina was giggling with kaminari as they scrolled through tiktok, bakugo was reading a book you had reccomend to him a while a go, sero and kirishima were softly play fighting as they laughed and chuckled.

- everything was as it should be

- until you got to where your spot usually was, cradled between bakugo's warm and firm chest and mina's plush thighs and stomach, and it was occupied by someone else.

- everyone stopped what they were doing, as they watched a smile pull at your lips when you recognised the disheveled pruple hair lazily sprawled in your spot. everyone watched with bated breath as they waited for your reaction and small smiles of their own shining through as they watched your interaction.

- you lifted your hand and smacked shinsou's knee that had been raised up slightly as one of his arms lay behind his head and the other fiddled with a bracelet around mina's wrist, and his lips pulled into a lazy smirk of his own as he watched you.

- "get up, fat head, you're in my spot."

- his smirk only grew.

- "do something about it, hero."

see my pinned post to join my taglist (^ム^)

#mha headcanons #my hero academia #imagines #mha #bakugo x reader #mina x reader #sero x reader #kaminari x reader #kirishima x reader #poly bakusquad #bakusquad poly #shinsou x reader #my hero academia imagines #mha x reader #gender neutral reader

[captains-simp]

Jealous Jock ~ Part 4

(Not my gif)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

This is the final part for this series but I do have more jock!Carol fics in my drafts

Warnings: nightmares, mentions of a break up and some slight social anxiety

1.8k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You're just too difficult to deal with." Carol snapped as she looked into your eyes with a cold expression. It was one you had never seen aimed at you. It almost broke your heart more than her words.

It was your worst fears come true, everything you had ever worried about. She didnt want you anymore, despite all her promises. She lied.

"Goodbye, y/n." She said with finality as she turned to leave.

"No! Please, I can fix this! I-I'll do anything just please, Carol!" You cried out in a desperation attempt to reach her but she was getting further and further away as you were rooted to the spot.

"Carol!"

"Y/n?" Came Carol's voice, except she sounded so close while you could see her so far away. It didn't make sense. It made you more confused and more scared.

"Y/n!!" She said again with urgency in her voice.

"Carol?" You stared blankly around you but you had lost sight of her.

"Y/n, wake up, please."

"What?" You questioned as you looked around frantically.

"Y/n, wake up."

You awoke with a start and instantly gasped out as you sat bolt upright in bed. There was an arm around your back and one on your arm, both holding on to you firmly as though you might run away.

"It's okay, it was just a dream. I'm here." Carol said. You froze and turned towards her slowly. It only took a brief glance at her messy hair and concerned look across her face for tears to spring to your eyes.

"Oh baby." Carol said softly and guided you towards her chest. You easily fell into her hold and gripped on to her shirt as you cried against her, all while she rubbed your back soothingly and whispered words of reassurance to you.

"It wasn't real, whatever it was it wasn't real." She continued as you trembled.

She guided you both to lay back down on the bed while you continued to hold on to her like a lifeline.

"Don't leave me." You sniffed when your tears died down. "Please don't leave me."

"I'm never going to leave you baby." She cooed softly to you and she put the pieces together. She rested her head ontop of yours as she ran her hand up and down your back still. "I love you."

You closed your eyes, feeling suddenly lighter at her words. "Promise?"

"Yeah, baby, I promise."

"I love you too." You whispered and Carol kissed the top of your head. You didn't want to go back to sleep. You were afraid of the dreams that awaited you but Carol's strong and nothing short of protective hold always helped you into a slumber at night.

"There's still a few hours till morning, baby. Some sleep will make you feel better." Carol assured as she kissed the top of your head lightly. You figited against Carol with a pout. "I'll still be here, I promise you. I can't go leaving my best girl." You practically melted at the enduring term and relaxed easily against the blonde.

"Okay." You whispered into the darkness.

"Okay." She whispered back.

*

You woke to a bright stream of sunlight pouring into the room and across the bed. You moved the shield your eyes and upon doing so noticed a very empty bed beside you.

Your eyes opened more as they adjusted to the brightness and your heart sank at the realisation that Carol wasn't laying next to you. Where was she? Why had she gone? Had she left you? Your panic rose at the thought and you were on the brink of tears again until the bedroom door swung open.

"Shit! Sorry! I didn't mean to slam it." Carol winced as she nudged the door shut as gently as she could with one foot. You frowned until you spotted the tray with plates and glasses on. You smiled as she started to saunter over to you with a sheepish grin and set the tray down besides you before crawling back into bed.

"How'd you sleep after?" Carol asked sweetly as she pushed the tray towards you encouragingly. On it was a plate piled with waffles with a range of sauces on the side that made your mouth water just to look at. Besides that was some napkins, a glass or water and your favourite juice.

"I slept good." You said honestly because you really had. There hadn't been any more nightmares and your sub dropping had faded away in your sleep. You felt...refreshed, good.

"Thank you." You said as you stared down at the tray in awe and moved it back to between you both, urging your girlfriend to take some with you. "So much." You couldn't contain your grin and apparently Carol couldn't either.

"Anything for my best girl." She winked.

You rolled your eyes with a grin and dug in the plate infront of you as Carol did, instantly loving the attack on your taste buds. The pair of you finished the sweet breakfast in no time with your spirit easily lifted. You made a mental note to prepare breakfast in bed for the blonde next time she slept round your house too.

"Did you sleep well?" You asked as you dabbed your mouth and set the tray aside on the nightstand.

"Good, I dreamt of you." Carol said simply with a smile before leaning forward to place a swift kiss on your lips. You smiled more and leaned forward to kiss her back, your heart swelling at her words.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She hummed and placed her hands on either side of you so she could kiss you more.

"What'd you dream about?" You asked playfully between kisses.

"That's a secret." She grinned and wrapped your arms around Carol's neck to deepen the kiss as you laid back.

"Oh really?" You fired back as you tasted the meal you had just shared on her lips. She hummed simply but pulled away shortly after.

"Are you okay?" She asked cautiously.

"I am, thank you." You said with a smile as you stared lovingly at her concerned gaze. She smiled back but still looked worried so you took ahold of her hand and guided it down your body.

"And this is okay too." Carol smiled and nodded quickly before bringing you into a soft kiss again.

"I love you." She said as she started to kiss down your neck.

"I love you too." You said as your eyes fluttered shut.

Carol kissed a path down your neck and swiftly removed your top so she could continue to treasure ever inch of you. She removed your shorts and panties too and looked up at you again when she hovered over your sensitive skin. You nodded slightly breathlessly and smiled wider when Carol threaded her fingers through yours.

"You're so wet." Carol noted with a fond smile before dragging her tongue through your folds.

"For you, Car." You sighed and let your head fall back against the sheets. Carol's tongue continued to run through your folds, occasionally pushing through your folds and moaning at the taste of you on her tongue.

She took her time with you. She teased and praised your pussy as she lapped her tongue across you and sucked your clit into her mouth, moaning again as she felt you pulse in her mouth.

You closed your legs around Carol's head and while she usually would have held them open in a strong grip, that time she let you do what you needed to as she pleasured you and kept ahold of your hands. She watched your features as the pleasure washed over your face. While Carol had quickly learnt what worked for you, that time she took extra care to give you exactly what you needed.

"Carol." You moaned as your eyes fluttered open to look down at her. Your eyes locked as your high approached and you found it hard to communicate. Luckily, you didn't need to.

"It's okay, I got you. Let go for me, y/n." She said clearly before sucking on your clit again and pushed you over the edge.

You moaned loudly as you kept your eyes on the blonde and shuddered as the large waves of your orgasm washed over you and caressed all of your nerves. Your whole body tingled as Carol helped you ride out your high and lapped up all of your cum.

"You're perfect." Carol sighed as she leaned forward to kiss you desperetly. You kissed her back with just as much passion until your lips became sore and breathing became an issue. "I love you so much." She said again, seemingly unable to stop her saying it over and over again.

*

That day as you strolled down the corridor, hand linked with Carol's, you actually felt relatively comfortable - which was very rare in high school. Your mood was unaffected from that perfect morning and so was Carol's.

"Hey you too." Wanda smirked as you and Carol approached the pair amongst some of your other friends.

"Hey." You blushed as you tried to ignore Wanda and Nat's very suggestive smiles aimed at you.

"Crazy party, huh?" Natasha said as she wrapped her arms around Wanda's waist and rested her head on the brunette's shoulder.

"Yeah, it was something." Carol said half heartedly. Admittedly, she couldn't remember what happened before she took you upstairs.

"You two seemed to have a lot of fun." You blushed more and shifted slightly on the spot.

"Yeah, you got some kind of superpowers Carol?" Wanda added and you started to look away to avoid their gazes.

"Just some talent." Carol grinned, that was definitely going to her ego.

"So thats what made y/n so loud?" Natasha chimed.

"I wasn't that loud!" You protested making the pair chuckle.

"Oh fuck, Carol, don't stop! Oh god, right there!" Natasha mimicked with some very over the top expressions.

"Okay, that's enough." Carol said through a light laugh as she felt you grip onto her hand tighter.

"That's definitely not what y/n said." Wanda grinned.

"Okay, we're going." Carol smiled as she took a step back and led you away.

"You two have a great day." Carol called over her shoulder as she started down the hallway.

"Are you alright?" Carol asked once you were a fair distance away.

"I am, thank you. I know they're just messing around but..."

"Hey it's okay." Carol said as you got to her locker. She opened it and you saw a small polaroid of both of you inside. Carol's arm was swung around you and you had her jacket over your shoulders as you both sat infront of a fire, laughing at something in the distance.

"I'll always get you out an uncomfortable situation." She said. "You can count on me for that." You grinned and kissed Carol lightly on the cheek.

"I have no doubt about that." You said honestly and Carol hummed in response.

"Anything you want, I'm there." Carol said and wrapped her arms around your waist to pull you flush against her chest.

"Then I'll always be waiting, Care Bear."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @wndrcarol @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain

Join a taglist

#carol danvers #captain marvel #brie larson #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagines #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers x reader #marvel #captain marvel smut #carol danvers smut #jock!carol danvers #jock!carol

[kaashiboo]

haikyuu boys reacting to you talking to an attractive guy part. 1

┇ akaashi and shirabu

→ fluff

【warnings: swearing】

gn! reader

✎ a/n: i got a bit carried away with shirabu's AAAAHHH. it makes me sad because im a huge shirabu simp but im content deprived so pls expect me to write more about shirabu for an unhealthy amount of times!<3

part 2 - coming soon (ft. tendou and iwaizumi)

akaashi

"y/n." he said, almost as if he was whispering but he didn't want to bother you as you seem interested in the conversation that you were having with your male classmate.

"darling." he tried once again, tugging on the hem of his your jacket. fortunately, you turned to him this time.

"i thought we were going to the newly opened coffee shop." he reminded you.

"oh yeah! okay, wait a sec." you smiled at him and returned your attention back to your classmate.

'ouch' he thought.

the seconds you promised turned into another ten minutes and so he was just standing there behind you awkwardly. he wasn't even paying attention to the conversation, he was just busy watching as your eye lit up in excitement. the way you would make weird gestures with your hands to furthermore elaborate your story. he noticed as well how attentive you look as the boy speaks, you leaning in to hear him better. heck, you didn't even bother to cover your mouth as you laugh��� not that he hated it but you were never like that to him.

he blinks, starting to feel uneasy and having the urge to pull you out of the scene but he knows very well that you're not his property and that he has no right to tell you who and who not to talk to. as long as you're safe then he's fine with it.

he tries reassuring himself that your classmate was nothing more than just a friend but his insecurities were starting to slowly get into his head. he looks down to his feet, brows furrowed as an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts.

"keiji?" you spoke softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. he looked up, staring right behind you but your classmate was no longer there.

'how long was i spacing out?'

"are you okay?" you asked. taking out your handkerchief from your pocket to wipe the beads of sweat that were on his forehead.

"do you feel sick? we could always go to the shop next time."

"i'm fine." he curtly replied. he panicked as soon as he realized how rude his response was but he immediately relaxed when he saw you smiling gently at him.

"if you say so." you reached for his hand, and intertwined your fingers together as he lets you lead the way.

the short walk from your school to the cafe was quiet— quieter than usual. you told him to find a seat and offered to order for the both of you.

he wanted to protest and tell you that he could have paid for it but he chose not to. he really did want to talk but the unsettling feeling hasn't disappeared yet which made him want to not say anything at all.

you quickly found akaashi and sat across him. his hands were clasped together, resting on the table and so you placed your hands on top of his. giving it a light squeeze.

"you've been awfully quiet. do you want to talk about it?" he contemplated on whether he should tell you about his weird feelings or not but he decided that it would be better if he opened up.

"earlier," he paused, not really knowing how he should start it. if you weren't close to him then you probably wouldn't have heard that he spoke. you decided to let your hands on the table instead of his hands.

"when you were with your classmate, i was glad to see how happy you looked as you talked to him but it felt weird, i don't know why but the way you acted around him was completely different compared to when you're with me... " his voice shrunk.

"i apologize for thinking like this, y/n. i know it's completely immature of me. let's just— forget about it." he slightly frowned, grabbing his own drink and took a sip from it.

"were you perhaps... jealous, my love?" you chuckled and he playfully rolled his eyes at you.

"it's nothing, darling." he denies.

"it's clearly something, keiji. and besides, what you felt— or i assume, what you're currently feeling, is valid. i should be the one apologizing, okay? i'm glad you opened up to me." you reach for your drink next to his but akaashi was quick enough to get a hold of your wrists with his one hand effortlessly while the other grabbed your drink , the straw near your mouth. you looked at him in confusion.

"just drink it. i don't want to let go." he lets out a slight scoff, staring away from your teasing looks. you obliged before he changes his mind and take away your drink.

he still hasn't let go and you chuckled at how stubborn he was. he knew he could have let you use your other to hand to grab your drink but oh well.

"but seriously, keiji. you probably weren't listening but we were talking about something else." he doesn't know how your statement was supposed to make him feel better but he nodded, urging you to continue.

"i'm not gonna tell you to stop being jealous because i think that's easier said than done but i just want to assure you. we were talking about how his date went because he has a crush on my best friend and they finally went out. he doesn't like me and i don't like him in that way either." you explained calmly.

"and i'm sorry for making you think that i'm not comfortable around you. i think you took it the other way around though. just because you see me more hyper when i'm with others, doesn't mean i don't feel at ease when i'm with you. you make me feel safe and normal." you sheepishly confessed.

"oh." he mumbled.

"'oh'? that's all you're gonna say?" you joked, your gaze diverting on the table where he was still busy playing with your hands.

"sorry for jumping into conclusions."

"it's alright. i love you, remember that."

"i love you more, y/n."

shirabu

"goshiki. have you seen y/n?" shirabu asked as soon as he approached goshiki's table.

"huh? why are you asking me that? aren't we from different classes and year?" he tilted his head, confused with shirabu's visible frown.

"yea— i know that, shut up. you know what— never mind." he groaned and left.

break time is almost over and you still haven't shown up. shirabu may never admit but he truly is worried about you.

he stormed to the classroom of your previous class, silently opening the door, and peeked inside. only to see you sitting on your chair with your male classmate standing in front of your desk, a hand resting on the table to support his upper body as he leans down to meet your face.

he scoffs loudly, your head immediately turning to his direction, and leaned away from the boy.

"this is a school. not a motel." shirabu snarled.

"why are you here?" you raised a brow at him while your male classmate stood up straight, fixing his uniform along.

"i— i wanted to check something here but i was not expecting two irresponsible students deciding to flirt in a classroom. have you ever heard of good manners?" he crossed his arms on his chest. watching as you harshly shove your belongings into your bag before making your way to where he was.

you stood in front of him. having to look up a bit to match his piercing gaze, "you're smart but you're bad at making assumptions." you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him to the side to make way for yourself.

"where do you think you're going?" he shouted, trailing behind you as you try your best to get past the crowd.

"i don't know what the hell is your problem with me, shirabu. would you please mind your own business? what are you? my significant other? asshole." you rolled your eyes and continued your journey to wherever your feet decide to lead you as long as he would not be near you.

you looked over your shoulders. seeing that he already stopped following you. you were supposed to feel glad about it but you felt otherwise.

-

it has been exactly four days. four days without your usual bickerings with shirabu. the whole volleyball team was surprised. it's not like you stopped visiting them to watch their practice, but your interactions with the setter have drastically decreased. no one dared to ask about it and they all act like nothing is happening but the tension still somehow got in the way as you converse with the others. the pair of eyes carefully watching your every move and it took you all the energy to not look back.

'seriously? who does he think he is? it's so annoying. how dare he jump to conclusions. and besides, even if he was right, why does it matter to him so much.' you tried to convince yourself but it wasn't enough to overpower how you actually felt about the whole ignoring situation. you did try to approach him the other day but backed out.

semi noticed that you were spacing out the whole time as he was talking about something. not even the blow of the whistle was enough for you to snap back to reality and so he just patted your back before running back to the court to continue the practice.

you sighed to yourself and felt your phone buzz, receiving a text from haru.

haru: hey y/n! i'm in the library right now. i'll be waiting.

you wanted to bid your goodbye to them but they were too engrossed with practice so you decided to just leave without uttering a single word.

"shirabu! where are you going?" tendou watched as his teammate's figure disappeared from his sight.

"ah, young love." he clicked his tongue in amusement.

"hi haru!" you greeted and he offered a smile before he put his index finger to his mouth, a friendly reminder that you two are in the library. you whispered an apology before sitting beside him.

"so, how'd you do in the exam?" he starts.

"i don't think i'm very satisfied with it but i got a 90% so i guess it's not that bad." you talked as you took out your own textbooks and placed the test results on the table for him to see.

he gasps jokingly, "i beg to disagree that it's not a good grade. i literally got an 88%" he playfully punched your shoulders and proceeded to tell you how proud he was that you managed to ace the exam with his help.

"i hope you don't mind if we settle here instead? i didn't really want to bother my roommate and i think most classrooms are occupied right now." he looks at you apologetically.

"don't sweat about it." you reassured, placing your hand over his that was on the table but you immediately retracted your hand when you heard someone cough.

"what do you want?" you tried to sound tough but you were intimidated by his dark gaze even though he didn't mean to scare YOU off.

"let's talk." he looks straight into your eyes.

"no."

"oh? i wasn't asking. i was demanding." he then grabbed all your belongings, carefully but hurriedly putting them inside your bag and zipping it close, and slung it on his shoulder.

"shira—"

"kenjirō." he cut you off and impatiently grabbed your wrist, not forgetting to give haru one last glare before dragging you along to wherever he planned on taking you.

his pace was fast and you tried your best to keep up with him, being careful in order to not trip.

he abruptly stopped on his tracks which took you by surprise and almost hit your face on his back. he gently pushed you inside the volleyball team's clubroom and you finally gave in and decided to let him.

none of you spoke as you got inside. you leaned on the wall just beside the door. staring intently at your bag that he placed on the floor. having no intentions of making eye contact with him.

however, you didn't expect it when he suddenly stepped closer and nuzzled his face into your neck. "k-kenjirō?" you stammer, reluctantly hugging him and rubbing circles on his back for comfort.

"is there something wrong?" you whispered and he finally pulled away from the hug.

"sorry."

"kenji—"

"shut up," wow okay.

"i'm sorry for... being mean— not that it's something new but i didn't realize how bad it was to accuse you of something that you may or may not do... but that's not the point. i know you're bad at flirti—"

"kenjirō, are you apologizing or insulting me?" you let out a laugh. oh how he missed hearing that.

"right. anyway, i'm sorry i made you upset to the point that you had to avoid me," he was about to continue but you interrupted him.

"avoid you— what?! i thought YOU were avoiding me so i didn't want to bother you!" you exclaimed and the two of you stared at each other in confusion.

"so you weren't mad at me?" he narrowed his eyes at you, a hint of doubt laced within his voice.

"no? i mean, i was pretty upset that you thought i had the time to flirt with someone but it wasn't a big deal and my anger only lasted for an hour." you tried to elaborate.

"but why didn't you approach me the day after? heck, you didn't even spare a glance at me during practice!"

"because i thought you were mad at me!" you exasperated, massaging your temples at the same time.

"god, y/n. so you're telling me i avoided you for nothing?" you hesitantly nodded at him, mind still filled with questions.

"why were you so affected by it anyway," you mumbled.

"excuse me?" he raised a brow, sounding as offended as ever.

"imagine seeing the person you like to be with another attractive guy and be PHYSICALLY close with him. how would you feel then?" you were taken aback by his sudden confession but you decided to play along with his i'm-still-in-denial-game.

"well, i don't know about that because the person i like is constantly surrounded by handsome guys on the volleyball team but i was never jealous."

"so you like someone from the team," he humorlessly chuckled. "this is pointless." he stated.

you groaned at how slow he was, "you're so stupid. it's you who i like, kenjirō! oh my god i can't believe you're this dumb." he stared at you in disbelief, using his index finger to point at himself, "me?"

"no. the fucking wall, kenjirō. i like the wall!" you shut your eyes closed, trying not to get your annoyance into your head.

"then who were you wi—"

"a friend, shirabu kenjirō. haru is a friend who offered to tutor me for the whole week since exams are coming." you reassure.

"but why him? do i look like someone who won't tutor you?"

"yes..." your voice trailed off and he stood there, dumbfounded with how straightforward you were.

"but if you just admit that you were jealous then maybe i'd approach you instead." you joked.

"i wasn't jealous but you're changing your tutor whether you like it or not. now, come on and let's tell him so i could finally go back to practice." he picked up your bag and tossed it to you.

"you're not gonna ask me out first?" you teased before placing your hand at the doorknob.

"well then, go out with me."

"i said ask, not demand." you rolled your eyes.

"as if you'd have a choice anyway."

#kaashiboowrites #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #akaashi x reader #akaashi imagines #akaashi fluff #akaashi scenarios #shirabu x reader #shirabu imagines #shirabu fluff #shirabu scenarios #akaashi keiji #shirabu kenjirou #shiratorizawa #fukurodani