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kiwisbell · 6 months

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Honey-Do [joel miller]

It’s Sunday, chore day, and Joel has a honey-do list item of his own: get his girl pregnant.

my masterlist!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings: pre-outbreak joel, married!joel, pure fluff and smut, slight au, body worship, some cock worship, handyman!joel, malewife!joel, joel “my wife doesn’t lift a finger in this home” miller, vague daddy undertones, overstimulation, joel miller is a munch, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected PIV (wrap it up unless you’re joel), creampie, breeding kink, actual breeding, talks of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, domestic bliss, joel’s love language being acts of service and by that i mean putting a baby in his wife, competence kink

word count: ~ 10k (someone stop me)

read on ao3!

a/n: hello, lovelies!! i received this ask ages ago and the idea inevitably snowballed because who is self-control?? does she go to a different school? anyway, this fic is pure plotless domestic fluff and domestic smut (is that a thing? yes!), so i really hope you all enjoy! pre-outbreak joel is very special to me xoxo

HONEY-DO

Your shared bedroom looks out over the eastern sunrise. A mutually-assured vigil, keeping one another safe—and timely.

In the mornings, the golden light spills through the break in the curtains. It will peek slowly inside and gently warm your body awake, testing the limits of its power. When you roll over and make a soft groan of protest in your sleep, seeking more warmth, the little strip of sunlight will widen, directing you. You will find the body next to yours, nuzzling close, your nose bumping his bare chest, and settle happily against it. In return, his body will seek yours, symbiotic exchange, a greedy arm pulling you closer.

In frustration, the sun grumbles it way higher in the sky, shining brighter and spreading wider.

It takes a couple tries to get it right: to shine in just the right way to make you blink rapidly awake, squinting in the glow. You gradually come to life, your lungs sucking in the first deep breath of morning air, your naked body stretching like a cat in the sunspot. Dust hovers lazily in the air, heralding a Sunday occupied by chores. The room is still, silent, and kissed by morning rays. Peaceful.

You examine him in the light: tanned skin sparkling gold, plush lips slightly parted, broad chest rising and falling. His hair is pleasantly tousled from sleep. There are patches of silver beginning to thread through his dark brown beard, and in your self-sustaining state of affection, you gently put your lips to one of the patches of skin where hair does not grow.

Your persistence grows with every second he refuses to wake. It may be a bit petulant, your lips smattering soft kisses across his jaw, beneath his ear, down to his neck and all its veins, but it begins to work. He stirs, groaning softly, turning onto his side and wrapping both arms around your waist. He does all of this without opening his eyes, resting his head on your belly and nuzzling against you as if he could get any closer—sated, for now, his body knowing nothing but the pull toward you.

You comb your fingers through his messy hair and listen to him breathe while he listens to your heartbeat.

“It’s ten,” you whisper.

“Hmph,” he says against your belly. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet; if you didn’t know his breathing patterns like they were mapped out in the lines of your palms, you would think he’s still sleeping.

“We slept in,” you point out.

Joel gently bumps his forehead into your stomach as if he were banging his head against a wall. “Shit,” he grumbles.

You laugh as his moustache tickles your skin. “Do you want to get up now?”

Another grunt, accompanied by a shake of his head. Big, strong arms pull you closer.

“I’ll make you breakfast,” you coo, stroking his hair away from his face. “Eggs… bacon… coffee…”

Joel presses his lips to your belly. “Don’t go takin’ my job, now,” he says, his voice groggy with disuse. “No girl of mine’s gonna run around gettin’ her own damn coffee.”

“Hmm. Means you have to move, Romeo.”

This earns a playful smack to the side of your thigh, his big, callused hand kneading your flesh while he wakes himself up with mouthfuls of your scent—linen and vanilla—and gulps down the sunlight glowing on your skin.

“Never mind,” you sigh, dreamy and complacent under his attention.

His eyes finally crack open, peering up at you, honey-brown pools touched by the golden light. He rests his chin on your belly and keeps his arms wrapped around your hips. His fingers trace shapes up and down your lower back. “You got a honey-do list?” he asks with a crooked grin.

Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “That depends. Can I get you to mow the lawn without a shirt on?”

“What do I get if I do?” he teases, his hand moving to your hip, contouring his hand to the shape of you.

You lift a brow, easing your legs apart underneath his body, letting him feel the warmth between your thighs. Like a moth to the goddamn flame, his eyes wide and eager, Joel crawls down your body with his mouth on your belly. Pausing just above your naked cunt, he blows cool air onto your clit and watches you squirm.

“After,” you gasp. “After chores, honey. We’ll never get up if we start now.”

“Don’t think I can make my woman come in good time?” he challenges, his palms keeping your thighs spread. Your pretty pussy glistens before his eyes, better than any fuckin’ breakfast. He begins to salivate.

Your head falls back into the pillows. “I never said that.”

Joel isn’t listening anymore. He kneads your thighs as he peers at you above your belly, your tits, to the curve of your jaw as you lie comfortably. Good. His baby ain’t about to get herself worked up on a Sunday morning.

He lowers his face just enough to let you feel his lashes tickling your lower belly, and you giggle his name, the sound pure adrenaline to his blood. You're so soft and supple under his fingers, moulding to his touch, letting him take care of you. You may be in charge of him, but this is where he takes control.

He presses a soft kiss to your clit and you sigh, your head turning toward the direction of the sun. It warms your face while your husband slides his tongue through your wet slit, lazily and sleepily, as though he's operating on instinct alone. Gathering up your wetness on his tongue, he groans, his fingers dimpling your thighs.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ made for me.”

“Oh, God,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering. “Baby…”

That sweet little whine is poison. He cannot do anything but continue to drink you down, flicking his tongue against your clit. He's a sucker and he's always been. Your pretty fuckin’ smile from across the bar that first night; your tight black dress and the too-sweet cocktail you smooth-talked him into ordering that had his adenoids prickling; your instinct for sensing others’ troubles and your uncanny ability to make them feel like they have none at all. He never stood a chance.

He knows for a goddamn fact every man in the bar that night wanted to do to you what Joel is doing now: lapping up your juices with his tongue, spit mingling with arousal, warming his body between your thighs under the watch of the mid-morning sun. But he got you. Joel. He bought you a drink and he took you on a date. He got to taste your pretty pussy and he got to sit you on his dick—after the second date, that is.

He's the one who gets to wake up with you, share matching gold bands around your fingers, kiss you freely. As far as he's concerned, he's the luckiest guy on the fuckin’ planet.

He feels particularly green when your back arches, your lips parting around his name, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on your clit. You're unashamed to take pleasure, never shy about telling him Oh, fuck, yes! Right there, honey! Joel, yes, that feels so good, baby.

Joel preens with pride. His hot tongue glides over your clit, smooth and wet, easily coaxing you to a languid high. The golden spotlight through the curtains shines on you. You're the starlet and he's the adoring fan. From the first day, he knew he'd do anything to make you notice him.

“This wasn’t your first bar fight, was it?”

Plucking pieces of glass out of his bloodied knuckles, you looked up through your lashes at Joel, who had been staring at you since you sat him down in the bathroom. Okay—a little longer than that.

He shook his head.

You just smiled at him and gently shook your head. About as much reproach as he would get. “This might sting. Just hold on tight if you need to.”

“Like the sound of that,” he said quietly, and if you heard, you didn't comment. You guided his hand under the warm water and washed the rest of the blood from his knuckles, gently smoothing the pads of your fingers over his rough worker’s hands. Capable, you thought, idly watching the blood swirl into the drain. He barely winced when you put his hand under.

“Wanna tell me why you did it?” you asked him, your tone soothing and sweet.

Joel shrugged. Big, broad shoulders. Humbly strong, until someone made him show it. “Ain't manly to touch a woman like that.”

You lifted your brows. “But it's manly to beat the shit out of the guy who touched her?”

Joel studied your face. Cherry-red lip gloss. Gently flushed cheeks from a healthy couple drinks. The instinctual rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the lighting shifting gently over your collarbones. It was fascinating just to watch you breathe. Even cleaning his bloody knuckles, you slowly circled the pad of your thumb over the back of his hand, like an innate urge to comfort. Your eyes had an old wisdom to them; a particular gleam a person gained when they were familiar with the hardships life had to offer.

He wanted to ask you. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to do more than beat up some asshole who thought he could get away with pinching your ass.

But he would earn it. A real man earned what he got.

“Didn’t beat the shit out of him. Just roughed him up,” he says.

He watched you bite down on a smile. “You're a little twisted, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, eyes flicking to your dewy lips, coated with that gloss. “Think so?”

“Yeah.” You licked your bottom lip and he wondered if you tasted like cherries. “But I'm going to ask you on a date anyway.”

Your fingers curl in Joel’s messy hair, making him groan into your pussy. “Oh, baby,” you gasp, cracking your heavy eyes open to watch him lap at you, practically petting his hair away from his face as his big brown eyes remain fixed to yours.

He purrs, suckling your clit between his lips, his eyes eagerly drinking in the sight of your flushed, tightening body. Making you come is one thing. Watching it is another. Your back arches and your fingers pull on his hair. Scalp prickling, Joel grips your thighs tighter. He’d let you peel away pounds of his flesh if it made you happy. He’d go eagerly to the grave knowing he had put some good into the world, put some light in your eyes.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming—ah!” you cry, your thighs squeezing his head, your sensitive clit pulsing under his tongue as your pussy contracts around itself, seeking something nice and big to grasp onto. His cock is aching, his hips grinding idly against the mattress for relief, his head fuzzy from the pleasure of making you feel good. Your body slowly melts into the bed, your limbs twitching as the tension in your muscles loosens, your lips parted permanently around his name.

Eyes drooping and teary, you try to find him between your thighs, gently stroking his hair away from his face as it begins to fall into his big brown eyes. “Need a haircut,” you croak.

Joel hums, his head listing to the side, using your soft thigh as a pillow. He nips you playfully, your skin a golden path he intends to follow to the end. His hands caress your hips, helping you come down to Earth. You admire the delectable convex slope of his nose, the way it curves deliciously against your skin when he kisses, bites, inhales. He’s freckled and indented with the signifiers of a lived-in life; a good life. His is a likeness you could trace with your eyes closed.

It’s eleven o’clock, and your stomach begins to grumble.

Joel chuckles, pressing a long kiss to your belly. “Gettin’ up now,” he says. “Promise.”

He pulls on a pair of sweatpants, tucking his hard cock away to be dealt with later. Padding down the stairs, Joel is quick to tend to your needs, putting on a fresh pot of coffee. After so long together, his mind operates on autopilot, steering him from the cupboard to the refrigerator and back to the steaming pot, occupied with the menial task of making a good cup. The gentle clinking scrape of the spoon as he stirs your milk into the cup wakes him up until he feels practically revitalised. He keeps his coffee black.

He hears the soft tread of your feet behind him, feels the warmth of your body as you crowd his space, smiles at the way you smooth your palms over the planes of his muscled back in unadulterated admiration. His shoulders are wide, tapering down to the soft belly you’ve nurtured through years of cooking. He’s sturdy and strong and all yours. The sight of him always makes you a bit giddy.

“So handsome,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your face between his shoulder blades. The buffed claws of his woodsy pine scent hook into the spaces between your ribs.

Joel lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the wedding band on your finger, the engagement ring above it. “Sit down, baby. Coffee’s ready.”

You grin against his back, nudging your nose into his tanned skin. “Mmm. That sounds good. But I wanna stay here. ‘s nice and warm.”

“Girl of my dreams,” Joel murmurs, reaching around his back and patting your ass. “C’mon, I’ll keep you warm.”

You grumble your way to the little circular table in the kitchen, tucked into the alcove at the front window. It’s a souvenir from your parents' garage sale when they decided to sell their home and move to Austin. As a girl, you’d draw, scratch, and paint on that table, endlessly entertaining yourself by marking things up. Even now, there are remnants of your childhood in the worn grooves and chipped varnish. It fits nicely into your home, perfectly suited to two. It could even fit one more.

You ruminate as you watch Joel carry two mugs to the table. He knows which cup is your favourite: green ceramic decorated with tiny flowers, perfectly contoured to the shape and size of your hands, warming your palms just nicely between sips. Joel’s mug shows its age: white but slightly yellowed from years of use, bigger than yours. The steam of the coffee gently curls into the air, a dance of silvery ribbons in lock-step. They twist together as you purse your lips and blow. The rich, smooth caramel hue of your coffee contrasts the tar-black of Joel’s.

Since you dragged yourself out of bed on shaky legs, you shrugged on the navy T-shirt he tossed aside last night to give his greedy wife access to his chest. You'd carved some decent marks into his skin, now that you're properly looking: tiny bruises sharpening to purple, faint pinkish scratch marks that you don't remember making.

“Baby, I don’t mind,” he says, watching you scan his chest with a frown creasing your brow.

“But it looks painful, honey. You should let me—”

“You don’t gotta do anything,” says Joel, “‘cept come over here.”

Your brows lift coyly, your body sliding out of the chair and into his lap, legs bracketing his strong thighs. His hand finds a home on your lower back, bunching the hem of his shirt up to find your ass bare, your wet cunt sitting nice and pretty on his hard cock. You gasp when the generous length meets your puffy clit with heavy pressure. “Joel…”

Your voice is a mere whimper, a soft little plea for more, or for mercy. Joel’s always had better restraint than you.

“Warmer now?” he asks, like a real arrogant asshole, slipping his hand under the shirt on your body and splaying his fingers over your ribcage, thumb grazing the underside of your breast.

You do feel warmer, crushed up against him like this. You reach behind you and grab your coffee mug, taking a small sip. Your other hand winds around his neck and scratches the tousled hair at the nape of his neck. Joel hums, leaning close, nuzzling his face between your tits.

“Gimme the list,” he says, voice muffled.

You keep on stroking his hair and drinking your coffee between list items. “Mow the lawn. Clean out the eavestrough. Fix the sink.”

“Hmm, easy work,” he says, his other hand sliding up and down your back. It makes you melt into him even more, giving him the chance to tease a nipple between his teeth through the fabric of your shirt. You huff, wiggling your hips, but he's a brick wall. He does not budge. “Gimme yours, baby.”

You recall the items on your own list. “Vacuum the house. Go for groceries. Touch up the paint on the front door. Do the laundry. Cook dinner. Cut your hair,” you add with a playful smile.

Joel frowns against your chest, pulling back to look up into your eyes like a grumpy, needy dog. “You put all that down for yourself?”

You try to placate him with a kiss on his nose. “You work so hard, sweetie. I could use some hard labour once in a while.”

Joel shakes his head. “You aren’t doin’ all that by yourself.”

“No?” You lift your brows. “Wanna buy it off me, Mr. Miller?”

“I’ll win ‘em from you,” he says, tilting his head back to kiss your jaw. “Name the price.”

You bite your lip and chase his mouth, plush and soft under that dark moustache. “I’ll think on that. Meantime, you can get to work on that lawn while I watch from the comfort of the front porch. That sound fair?”

Joel’s old Southern values rear up every now and then, imparted by his mother and his father’s mother before. Putting in an honest day’s work will make his wife comfortable and happy. He doesn't want you lifting a finger around this home if he's perfectly capable of doing the job himself. He works with his hands all day, gets dirty and sweaty. You shouldn't have to—not when you work so damn hard every other day of the week.

Joel nips your chin. “Fine. But I ain’t gonna forget that I owe you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, baby.”

Joel finishes his coffee, but you take your time with yours, changing into a short blue sundress while Joel, regrettably, puts a pair of jeans and a shirt on. Curling your legs up on the porch swing, you watch your man start the lawnmower, enthralled by the rippling of his back muscles with every pull. You know that some of it’s for show—knowing you're watching makes him want to impress you. Sometimes, he's still the man with the teenaged crush on the girl, doing everything he can and going out of his way to make you smile. It works.

He’s methodical: making lines up and down the lawn, shearing away the too-long blades of grass under the motor. As sweat begins to bloom under his collar and his brow, he wipes his forehead with his forearm and you lick your lips, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of running your tongue all over his strong, naked body. Jesus. You finish off your coffee and force your eyes away from your husband for a moment. It isn't too hot from where you sit on the wraparound porch, but your chest feels sticky.

You rush inside to fill up a glass of water for him, hastily scrubbing your mug clean and putting it back in the cupboard. Maybe you should be occupying yourself with your chores today; you worry nothing will get done if you continue to watch him work in the Texas sun.

He’s just finishing when you shoulder your way back outside, his neck glistening with sweat and golden noon-hour light, warm and tempting. You set the glass on the railing and wait for him to come your way, squeezing your thighs together as your eyes trail up and down his body.

He's always been a capable man, broad and tall—so good at his job that he was offered a promotion after a few months. But it isn't just his strength or his doggedness when it comes to getting his work done. It's the way he’s so eager to finish things, to check off the items on your list, to please you. He frowns at the idea of you doing too much work. He parades you around town with a puffed-up chest, as if to announce, This is my wife. I’m her husband and I’m fucking proud. He takes your pleasure so seriously that it feels like a competitive sport—always outdoing himself, always striving for more. He loves selflessly, and yet he loves just selfishly enough to make sure the world knows you're his.

He’ll be a good daddy.

You glance down at your belly and let yourself picture it: swollen and round, ballooning big enough to fit a new life inside. You imagine smoothing your hand over a growing bump, Joel’s warm palms feeling the undulating kicks of a little baby inside, half of him and half of you. You picture back aches and swelling feet and insatiable cravings and expended energy. And not a part of it deters you. Not a speck of your willpower wavers, the way it would have mere months ago.

Something has changed. It may have been gradual and it may have been sudden. But it's new, all the same. It’s been this way since a week ago, when you looked in your nightstand at your little pink pill organiser labelled by weekday, and decided: No more.

Watching Joel make his way back to you, shielding his eyes from the light, you idly place your hand on your belly. Something new. A welcome change, you think, to have someone new sitting at our little table.

Joel climbs up the steps to the porch and gulps down the glass of water. “Thank you, baby,” he says, wiping his mouth. Your lips part as if to taste the air around him, to chew, to savour, relishing the richness.

Your pupils expand, taking in more of him, and Joel notices, placing a rough hand over yours where it rests on your belly. “You’re lost in thought, honey. Wanna tell me what's in that pretty head?”

“Just…” Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “Thank you for doing that. I know it's a big job.”

“Ain’t nothin’,” says Joel, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Got any idea how I can win those chores off you?”

Hands grasping your hips, sliding over your sweat-slick spine, saccharine noises slipping from your throat onto your tongue and out into the open air. Fingers imprinting permanent fixtures into your ribs. The heady weight of his big, fat cock wrenching you open, as it always does, slow until it isn't anymore. Desperation kicking in, a switch flipped, pummeling and brutal and unforgiving. Uncompromising. Hips pressed flush to your ass, nothing spilling out. Not a drop.

Everything sealed in tight as promises are exchanged as whispers in the dark.

“I want you to put a baby in me.”

All right. You could have been more delicate about it. Not precisely how you wanted to approach the topic, but it seems to get the job done.

Looking down at you, Joel slowly lowers the empty glass, mouth opening as he searches for words. “What?”

There’s no point in shyness or hesitation. You know your body, your mind, your heart. You thread your fingers through Joel’s and let them stay connected over your stomach. “I want you to give me a baby, Joel Miller,” you say softly, your gaze locked to his. “That's my price.”

Joel swallows thickly, his mouth still gaping. “I heard you,” he rasps. “Just… you… you mean it?”

You try not to melt over the tone of his voice: low, bordering on desperate, wanting. There’s hunger in the sound of it. “We’ve talked about it,” you offer, conciliatory. “Lots of times.”

“Yeah, we have.” Joel steps closer, his eyes dipping from your eyes to your mouth, your throat and collarbones, to your belly. His hand flexes. “You gotta be sure. You gotta know it's what you want.”

You cup his face and give him your best smile. It's the sort of smile he remembers from the very first night you met. The sort of person who is unashamed to show their joy on their face. “Honey, I want it all with you.” Your fingers squeeze his. “We’ve waited so long and I don’t want to wait anymore.”

His ears are ringing. All Joel can do is sweep you into his arms and grin into your throat, his hand firm on the back of your head, curling around a fistful of hair. “Girl of my fuckin’ dreams,” he mumbles against your skin. “I’ll make you a momma. Give you just what you want. Everything you want.”

As you close your eyes and open your ears to his ramblings, your erratic heartbeat settles. Serenity finds the pair of you, locked together on your front porch, and the next part of your life begins.

“Don’t think this gets us out of doing chores,” you tease.

“You aren’t gonna lift a goddamn finger,” says Joel fiercely, his lips still littering kisses all over your neck. “You’re havin’ a baby.”

“Honey, I’m not pregnant yet,” you laugh. “I don't need to get all lazy right away.”

“Yeah, you do, and you will. I’m gonna make you the laziest momma in Texas,” says Joel, smiling into your throat, the scratch of his moustache making you dizzy with laughter. “Gonna look so fuckin’ beautiful with a baby in you. Gonna glow like a goddamn firefly. Shit, we need to paint the spare room. I need to build a crib, get time off work—”

“Joel,” you coo, scratching your nails up and down the back of his neck. “We’ll have time to do all of that.”

He pulls back to look down at you, eyes so buttery-soft in the shade of the porch that you impulsively reach for his cheek and run your fingers through his patchy beard. “What’s next on my list?” he asks, holding you around the waist.

You tap your fingers gently against his cheek as you recite each item over again. Joel’s arms tighten, pulling you closer, pupils widening.

“And then what?” he says gruffly.

You beam, and he's so fucking in love that he may keel over, doubled by the intensity of his affection. “And then, you're going to take me to bed and put a baby in me.”

This phenomenon should be studied: how quickly Joel Miller speeds through his chores when he has enough incentive. The anticipation of bending you over on the mattress and wringing every drop of cum from his balls until your stomach swells drives each flick of his hand as he touches up the forest-green paint on the front door, weathered slightly by morning sunlight over the years. The image of his hips pressed flushed to you as he grinds deep, spilling his cum into your womb and forcing it to take, motivates every turn of the steering wheel as he drives you to the grocery store in his clunky Chevy.

He’ll need to drive to Benny’s, get the suspension fixed up; no way in hell he's going to let his pregnant wife sit on the old bench of a bumpy pickup truck, not with the speed bumps dotting the neighbourhood. At least there's a good preschool nearby. He pictures taking his baby to school and he preemptively feels the inevitable first swoop of dread into his gut knowing he'll have to watch his little girl disappear behind those doors. He knows, somehow, that it’ll be a girl. There's not a doubt in his mind.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” you ask him, playing with his fingers as he holds your thigh. Joel is a great driver; he steers so easily, one palm sliding smoothly over the wheel, his eyes alert and his speed under control. It’s a little sexy, and it makes you antsy from where you sit on the bench. Sure, there are chores to do and there’s dinner to make, but it’s getting harder to push your innate needs to the back of your mind. You don't know if you can wait all day to get him inside you.

“Names,” he says. “Got lots of ideas.”

“Yeah? Fire away.”

“Well, I like Eleanor. Good, strong, classic name, y’know? Little wordy, maybe. Then there's Mary, Marie, Hannah, and I can tell you don't like any of ‘em,” he finishes with a laugh, squeezing your thigh. Your silence has always been a tell.

“They're very sweet names,” you concede, “but they don't feel like my baby.”

Joel’s hand slides up to your belly and warms you beneath your dress. “Maybe we’ll feel it,” he says, “when we make her.”

“Think it’ll happen on the first try?” you wonder aloud, watching the scenery whiz by outside. It's a sunny, temperate day for Austin. You think about taking your baby for a walk, lounging lazily in a stroller while you say words that fall on deaf ears, but will resonate in due time nonetheless. You think about a little girl that will cling hard to her daddy’s leg when she gets scared of the storms outside, the way you did when you were little. You think about long nights shushing your sweet baby girl to sleep, about those same nights spent nestled into Joel’s body, the three of you dozing idly on the sofa. A unit.

“If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to try again.” You watch his fingers creep back down between your legs and snap the waistband of your panties.

You smack his hand. “If you keep playin’, Mr. Miller, you're gonna have to take me right here, in this truck. You want to give your wife a bad back?”

Joel grunts, patting your thigh. “Dirty play.”

“That's what I thought.”

Back at home, Joel vacuums the house while you manage, some-fuckin’-how, to convince him to let you do the laundry. He fishes debris and runoff out of the eavestrough, then gets down on his bad knees to tighten the plumbing underneath the sink.

“Let me help, sweetie. At least hand you a wrench or something. You'll hurt your back again.”

“I got it,” he grunts from under the sink. “Just a loose pipe. I’m peachy.”

You just sigh and let him carry on, the stubborn bastard. When he stands, the job done, he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, and you get a generous glimpse of his belly, the trail of dark hair directing your gaze down, down—

“Joel?” you squeak, wringing your hands together.

He drops the shirt back over his abdomen and steps closer. “Yeah, baby?”

“Are you, um… Are you hungry?”

He understands the particular glint in your eye, the telltale widening of your pupils, the hollow of your throat dipping as you swallow, your lashes fluttering gently. Blood surges down to his cock and it begins to fill out his jeans at the thought of taking what he's waited for all day. “No,” he says, licking his bottom lip. You eye every minute movement with meticulous precision. “Think dinner can wait.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you say, crowding him and tugging at the hem of his shirt. He watches you prowl slowly toward him, gaze locked to the heady pull of your eyes. His cock twitches with a vested interest in the body now pressed up against him. Joel cannot look away from the siren now calling him to sea.

“That so?” he rasps, bunching the fabric of your dress so it rides up your hip and gives him a good look at your panties. “You dressed up all pretty today. For me?”

You're as coy as a flirtatious schoolgirl, trailing your fingers up and down his muscled bicep. “Always for you.”

“That’s right, baby. You like me lots, don't you?”

“Mmm, I do,” you purr, your hand sliding up his abdomen to his chest, admiring the hard planes of his strong body. “So handsome, strong, generous…” You get lost in your exploration, eyes dipping to his throat, your lips instinctively seeking the delectable vein that pulses with every beat of his heart. “Such a good man. Gonna be such a good daddy.”

Joel’s breath shudders out of him when he feels your soft, warm mouth on his neck, indulging in the taste of him. “Jesus,” he croaks, gripping your hips hard. “Jesus, honey, you gotta go easy on me. Lemme take it slow—”

—or I swear to God, I’ll blow a load in my jeans.

“You wanna undress me?” you say, like a real fucking tease, pulling away and tugging playfully at the straps of your dress. Joel’s nostrils flare, and he’s walking you back into the wall, cupping the back of your head to protect it, and slanting his mouth over yours.

He’s salty with the sweat that drips from his temples and he still smells of fresh-cut grass. He’s all Joel, all yours, the first gulp of air you breathe in when you wake and the last sigh you exhale before you sleep.

You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips and dips his tongue between them to taste yours. You taste like mint and coffee and he clutches you tighter, wrinkling the fabric of your pretty little dress in his fist. The sunlight filters through the windows, intrusive, bleeding into the moment as if taking a snapshot. Joel kisses you so deeply that your throat feels stained with the gasps of breath you exchange.

You're sweet enough that it makes him ache, bending your back to fit you to him, craving more. Closeness is not enough—he needs possession.

Joel’s kisses are bruising, unforgiving, merciless, but they are also slow, careful. He isn't sloppy; he does precisely what must be done to get you riled. And when he breaks away, his forehead resting against yours, you tug his hair with a pitiful whine.

“I wasn't done,” you tell him.

Joel pouts, mocking. Fingers pull at the straps of your dress until you're watching it pool at your feet. His big hands find your tits immediately, squeezing out all his frustrations, tweaking your nipples and lowering his mouth to your throat.

Your fingers curl into his hair, glueing him to you while he marks your throat, sucking blood to the surface, retribution for the hickeys all over his chest. His warm palms explore your tits the way he likes, and you curve into him, giving him all the access he wants. “Joel, honey—”

Your voice is nectar, warmth from a fire on the Fourth of July, the stomach-cramping laughter around the flame. Joel groans, blindly searching for your hand with his face still nuzzled in your throat, sucking a particularly aggressive bruise that you’ll scold him for later. But he threads his fingers through yours and feels the cool kiss of your twin wedding bands, and your sweet, wispy sighs have him grinding absently against your thigh. You don't have half the mind to get mad at him for a goddamn thing.

He pulls away with a great yank of his self-restraint, still holding your hand. “C’mon, baby.”

You follow dutifully, staring up at your husband with the same moony eyes you gave him on your wedding day. The third stair creaks a bit, the way it always does. The bedroom door is first on the left, and it's a good fucking thing, because Joel can't wait any longer.

He walks you to the edge of the bed, stalking, a predator on prey, focused solely on his task. “Goddamn beautiful,” he says to himself, scanning your mostly-naked body and feeling his eyes droop in arousal.

“Think so?” Your hand drops between your bodies and palms his erection over his jeans. “Yeah, you really think so.”

His nostrils flare. “Sit.”

You lower yourself onto the mattress, primly placing your hands on your thighs and straightening your spine. Joel hums appreciatively, approaching you and slotting himself between your legs. There's a dark wet spot pooling in your panties. “Sweet thing. So needy all fuckin’ day.”

“So were you” is your retort, packing little punch due to the way you push your tits toward him like a fucking whore.

Joel presses his big, warm hand to your sternum. “Remember what you said to me the first time I got you in bed?”

“‘Let’s go again’?”

“The other thing.”

“'Let me suck your dick’?”

“Try again, baby.”

“‘Wrong hole’?”

Joel snorts, shaking his head. “Goddamn smartass,” he mutters. “Told me you wanted me from that first night. Told me you woulda let me fuck you against that bathroom mirror.”

His hand begins to move, rolling your nipple between his fingers like a cigarette, playing with you the way he likes. “Said you’d let me do whatever I wanted,” Joel says quietly, not meeting your eyes, transfixed by the way your body seeks the touch he gives you. “That still true?”

“I meant it then, and I mean it now,” you tell him, pulling your lip between your teeth. “I’m yours, Joel Miller.”

He tilts his head slightly, satisfied. “You got somethin’ you wanna ask me?”

You hook a finger in his belt loop. “Can you get naked now?”

He laughs, guiding your hand to the buckle on his belt. “Go on. Do what you wanna do, baby.”

He belongs to you. He’s yours to mould the way you want.

Your fingers do away with his belt, whipping it out of the loops and hanging it around your neck. Joel’s hands flex at his sides as you toy with the hem of his shirt, bringing it slowly up his torso with your palms flat to his tanned skin.

You imagine you're sculpting him like clay, bringing your hands over the contours and admiring the work when all is done. It’s the artist’s pride of finishing the work and none of the self-reproach when something comes out wrong, because it’s Joel, and wrong becomes negligible.

You bring the shirt over his head with his assistance, lifting his arms for you, tossing the thing aside with little care. His eyes haven't once wavered from you. Next are his jeans, the scrape of his zipper and the delectable anticipation of hooking your fingers in the waistband and guiding them slowly down his hips.

His cock springs forward, thick and heavy and so hard it must ache, as you shuck his jeans down with his boxers. He grunts above you, his cock bobbing at the sight of your pretty lips parting. But you don’t take him into your mouth. You grasp the base of his cock and gently nuzzle your cheek against his length. Something like a strangled whimper leaves his throat.

“Baby,” he chokes.

“Yes, honey?” you say sweetly, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Jesus,” he says through his teeth. “You’re so fuckin' sexy. Fuck.”

You hum, slowly stroking your hand up and down as your tongue darts out to lick his balls. Joel’s hips stutter, his hand flying out to catch himself on the bedpost. “Goddamn. Jesus—”

Your coy smile knocks him askew, your lips pursing as you spit on the head of his cock, spreading your own saliva around the tip with your thumb. “I just wanna thank you”—a soft kiss to the tip has a rumbling groan crawling out of his throat—“for everything you do for me. I just want you to know how much I love you.”

Joel exhales hard, struggling to remember how breathing works when he's got his wife playing with his cock like it's your favourite toy. “How much do you love me?” he demands.

You wrap your fingers around the head of his cock and twist your hand up and down his shaft in a couple slow strokes. You're driving him fucking crazy. His vision is whiting out.

“I love you,” you purr, licking a broad stripe up the underside of his length. Joel’s chest is heaving with the effort of holding back. “Love you so much. Love you enough to make you a daddy.”

Joel caves, threading his fingers through your hair at the nape of your neck and stroking his thumb along your jaw. “Fuck, baby. Please…”

“Do you love me?” Batting your lashes, you scatter measured kisses from his tip to the base, teasingly licking his balls.

“Christ, I—” His hips jut forward instinctively. “I love you. Fuckin’ love you, baby.”

You flick your tongue against his slit and relish his groan, revelling in the sight of his flushed chest, his pink cheeks, the sweat on his brow. His jaw is tense, his nostrils flaring. He’s trying not to take control.

You slap his cock twice on your tongue and finally take it past your lips, sealing your mouth over the head. Joel moans, white-knuckling the bedpost, his other hand now stroking your hair. You fondle his balls in your free hand while the other grips him at the base, and he’s going to come embarrassingly soon if you keep looking up at him this way.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock while your lips seal tight, greedily suckling at his tip. Oversensitive, skin prickling with salty sweat, Joel practically breathes through his teeth. “Gonna kill me,” he manages. “You’re gonna kill me, honey.”

“Mmmm,” you reply, happily taking him deeper, his length sliding along the warm wetness of your tongue. Joel’s fingers tighten in your hair.

“Fuuuuck. You love this cock.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Love takin' me into your mouth like a little slut.”

“Mmmmph,” you agree, pushing your tits out.

His hand drifts down to the belt hanging around your neck and he wraps his fist around both ends, tugging so you’re forced to take him deeper. You splutter, breathing hard through your nose, your arousal dripping onto the mattress.

The sloppy sounds of your mouth working his cock send his head spinning. Drool dribbles from the corners of your lips, your eyes squeezing black tears from dewy lashes. And when you take him down your throat, the sound of your choked moan leaves Joel with little choice but to pull out before he comes.

You whine, squeezing your thighs together. He swipes his thumb underneath your eye and shows you the black smudge from your mascara. “Doesn't take much to get you cryin’. You like me that much?”

You bite your bottom lip and beam up at him. “Did I do okay?”

Your faux-innocence makes his dick twitch in your face, and you flick your tongue out to lick at the tip once more. Joel grunts, grasping his belt and tossing it away.

“‘Did I do okay,’” he murmurs, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “Got no idea after all these years. No idea what you do to me.”

“I just wanna take care of my man. He works so hard, you know, keeping me safe and happy.” You run your hand over his soft belly, the trail of hair that leads down to his cock. “He’s always liked to give me things.”

Joel backs you farther up the bed and crawls over your body, lowering his head to bury his face in your throat. You smell fresh and sweet as vanilla, and when he playfully bites into your skin, your saplike laugh has him grinding helplessly against your thigh.

He loves to give—always has. It’s all he knows. It took a long while for you to get him to unlearn some of his blind selflessness, to let you take control sometimes and care for him instead. Your Joel provides; he does not take. And the prospect of getting to give his wife a baby is turning him to putty in your hands. By the time he gets to work, he’ll be dead-set on his task, hard-pressed to pull out of you. He’ll want to get the job done on his first try, refusing to see you upset if the test comes back negative, but the id will still scratch and claw for another chance to fill you up.

Joel sucks a hickey into your neck and soothes the mark with his tongue, the slow, soft pleasure compounded by the way his warm body covers you, your fingers carding through his locks.

Your voice oozes, honeyed, down his spine. “I love you, Joel.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and crushes his nose in your throat, his hand smoothing down your hair. “I love you.”

“You want to make a baby?”

He rears back slightly, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah. I really fuckin’ do.”

You grin, lacing your fingers together at the back of his neck. “Will you fuck me? Please?”

Joel brushes his thumb across your chin. “Use your words.”

“I want to be a mom, Joel.” You give him a long, gooey stare, eyes warm and soft as running water. A look like that will make a man give you the goddamn galaxy.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. “I know, baby. I’ll help you. Hands and knees, now.”

The gentle direction moulds your body to the shape of the words. You go easily, your back arching as you rest your weight on your forearms and spread your thighs. The bed dips behind you as Joel settles in, his hands grasping your ass and making you jump.

Your body trembles with excitement. You’re going to be a mom. He's going to get you pregnant. You feel dizzy, bending deeper at the hips and shaking your ass at him, deluded with your own arousal.

But Joel doesn't fuck you right away. No, he bumps up against the backs of your thighs, warm hands branding your skin, and rubs two fingers over the wet spot darkening your panties.

“I do this to you?” he says smugly.

“You know damn well—”

“Wanna hear you say it.” The no-nonsense command triggers a submissive response. “Who did this to you?”

Your body melts against him, presenting your pussy to him like a needy whore. “You, Joel. It’s you, baby. Only you.”

Your babbling makes him squeeze handfuls of your ass, spreading your asscheeks apart to get a good glimpse of the way your pussy drools into your panties. Shuffling backward and lowering himself to his knees on the floor, Joel’s tongue darts out and licks you through your underwear.

“Ohh, fuck!” you gasp. “Joel…”

He hums, tasting your tang through the fabric and finding your puffy clit, sucking gently. You cry out, your fingers grasping the sheets, and Joel moves your panties aside to slather his spit all over your dripping pussy. The languorous movements of his tongue are indulgent, achingly slow; he loves the taste of you as much as you enjoy having his mouth on your cunt.

“Oh my God, Joel… fuck, honey, please—!”

Your thighs are trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up, the strokes of his tongue turning your muscles to soup. He stops to take your panties off, guiding them off your legs, and by now, you're so wet that your juices glisten halfway down your thighs. Joel dives back in and licks up the rivulets of arousal from your skin, all the way back up to your weeping hole.

“So goddamn sweet,” he grumbles, kneading your ass in his hands as he flicks his tongue over your clit a few more times.

“Joel, I’m…” You’re drooling, grinding pathetically into his face, already close to an orgasm, and he isn't fucking letting up.

He wants you as wet and needy as possible, his own cock leaking onto the bedsheets at the prospect of sliding into your creamy pussy.

Your cheeks burn and your muscles lock as Joel makes out with your pussy, his tongue laving over your pearl in slow, aching circles. He drowns in the pleasure of making you feel good. He soaks himself in kerosene and lights the match.

“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs shake around his head and your toes curl, ears ringing with the force of your high. Grasping feebly at the bedsheets, you try not to list, but Joel isn’t fucking stopping, cleaning you up with his tongue like you're a piece of goddamn pie.

His fingers dig into your ass, rapacious as his mouth, and you climb high to a space that transcends the sky, feeling nothing but the linen underneath and the man above, softly kissing your poor, used clit.

He doesn’t let up until you reach back and gently shove his head away, grasping his damp curls. “Baby, let me rest,” you gasp, “just for a second.”

Regretfully, he pulls away, pressing a kiss to each knob of your spine, dragging his nose up your back. “‘m so fuckin’ lucky,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Lucky you didn’t kill me.” You laugh breathlessly, your hips already sore from keeping your ass in the air.

“Makin’ sure you’re ready,” he says innocently, sliding his thick fingers through your slit. You gasp, trying to escape his grasp despite yourself. He just clicks his tongue in reproach. “Nuh-uh, baby. You're gonna stay right here, let me make it good for you. Hmm? Wanna feel good?”

You nod your head frantically. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Wanna be good.”

“Mmm, now, you know that ain't your job tonight,” he says in a mock scold. In the meantime, his fingers soak themselves in your wetness. “Don't think you're ready for me yet.”

“No! No, I’m ready,” you pant, grinding against his erection. Joel grunts, holding your hip in place. “Baby, please, I’m ready for you. Need you so badly.”

“Shhh, sweetheart. I'll give you what you need. Just be patient.” Hands smooth over your ass, between your thighs, and then two fingers are teasing your hole. Joel tilts his head to watch the way he spreads your folds wide. “Gonna fill this up.”

A strangled noise spills from your mouth, your cheeks burning hot at the way he exposes you so tenderly. “Please,” you croak, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow.

He grasps himself and teases the already-wet head of his cock over your pussy, spurting precum onto your hole. “You want a baby?” he asks, low and dark. You luxuriate in the velvet-soft tone. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want a baby,” you whisper, “please. Please give me a baby.”

He readies himself at your tight cunt and the excitement briefly overcomes him, forcing his hips forward and pushing past the wet, gummy seal of your pussy. You gasp, held in place by his hand on your hip.

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“I want to make you a daddy!” you sob. “I want to have your baby and make you a daddy.”

“You want to be a momma?” he says through his teeth, tunnel vision narrowing his focus to the way he slowly guides himself into you, wrenching you open. At this angle, with how wet you are, the glide is delicious, white-hot, his balls heavy with the need to empty inside you. “That it? Want everyone to know who put a fuckin’ baby in you?”

Your husband is so fucking big, so strong, and the way he pins your body down feels close to primal. “Yes! Yes, Daddy, yes! I want to be a momma. Please give me a baby.”

The words put a chisel to his self-restraint and crack down. He’s gone, baring his teeth, pulling your hips toward him and impaling you on his cock, relishing the give of your tight walls and the way he sits snug against your cervix. You mewl, reaching back to find a purchase on his hip. “Joel, fuck…”

He establishes a punishing pace, driving your body farther up the bed with every thrust. “That’s it,” he groans, sliding his palm up your spine. “Gonna look so goddamn beautiful with a baby in you. You were fuckin’ made to take this cock.”

Your moan is syrupy and pitched low, your cheek buried in the mattress, letting him fill you up again, again, again—

“I’ll get you fuckin’ pregnant,” continues Joel, panting through his words, sweat beading on his brow as he runs his hands over your skin. “Stuff you so goddamn full you'll always feel me.”

“Uhhh!” you moan, fisting the sheets, your body practically folded in half to accommodate your husband’s huge body, his thick cock.

Joel wants this, too—has for a long time. It’s hard not to notice the little details. He places his hand on your belly when he isn't even paying attention, his lips finding the soft skin there when he first wakes in the morning. You knew he would have dropped everything to give you a baby the second you demanded it, but you realise you may have underestimated his need.

Joel is growling like a dog, sweat dripping from his temples and back pinching with effort as he holds your body close, glueing you to him, his cock reaching deep, deliberate, mind going numb, intent the only tangible feeling he can grasp onto. Intent and the white-hot drag of his cock against your walls.

You’re going to grow swollen and round with his baby. He will watch your tits grow heavy, your belly bulge, your cheeks take on a ruddy, dewy glow, the telltale mark of his success, his devotion. He’ll wake up every morning wrapped in the scent of your body, your hormones, his palm finding sanctuary on your soft, warm belly. He’ll bury his face in your throat and you’ll smile and the sun will warm the golden spot where a new life grows.

Fuck, he’ll never let you do laundry again. You could hurt your back.

Your head spins at the wet slap of his balls against your clit, the obscene squelch of your pussy around his impressive length, the way he grabs at you. He’s greedy, hands mapping each rib, each vertebrae, every curve and contour that makes you.

Your pussy sucks him in, just as needy, breathless moans and squeals punching out of your throat as you croak out pleas: Joel, baby, please. I want a baby so badly. Wanna have your baby. Please, please, fill me up! And Joel listens, his palm sliding around your waist and down your belly, rubbing your sensitive clit with two fingers.

A real man gives his wife everything she wants.

He moans at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him, his fingers wet and insistent against your little clit, coaxing you toward your climax. “C’mon,” he grunts, “come for me, baby. Fuckin’ choke me. Wanna feel it. Come and I’ll give you the baby you want so goddamn bad. C’mon, baby.”

His words seep into your bloodstream, an uncontrollable tremor racking your body, your arms giving out as he bends over you and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. “Ohhhh, God! Oh my—!”

Joel’s hands squeeze your tits, his entire body covering yours, a warm, protective blanket, slick with sweat and heart thundering against your back. His lips are on your skin, feverishly kissing and nipping. You can’t breathe, can’t move, and it feels so fucking good. You soak his cock, muscles seizing, pinned down by his strong body.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans. “That’s it, baby. Goddamn, keep on squeezin’ me like that. Not gonna leave this tight pussy until you're fuckin’ pregnant.”

“Joelllll,” you whine, your orgasm prolonged by his words, his unrelenting thrusts, the jolt of his balls slapping your clit. “Want it so bad. Wanna give you a baby. Come inside me, please. Please give me your cum, oh, God—”

The broken sound of your voice, weak and raspy, goes straight to his dick, and his balls are pulling up, his head bombarded with the smell of sex, perfume, linen, you. He rests his forehead between your shoulder blades as you milk his cock, turning his thrusts sloppy and desperate. He needs to come. He needs to make it real.

Your orgasm leaves you pliant and loose in his arms, and he fondles your tits, squeezing them hard in his hands as he pictures them growing, swelling heavy with milk he’ll feed your baby. His baby. Idly, you moan, letting him use your body to get off, his teeth grazing your neck.

“Gonna come. Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, give you a baby. Gonna—Jesus, goddamn—”

Maybe it's the pent-up frustration of not having come all day. Maybe it's a renewed sense of purpose, knowing he's got a job to do, keeping every drop safe inside you. Maybe it's the sheer fucking excitement of getting to give his wife what he's wanted to put in you for so long. But when he comes, hips flush to your ass, he comes so much, for so long, that the rapid rush of blood from his cock back up to his head has him nearly keeling.

Kissing your cervix, the head of his cock spurts rope after rope of hot cum inside you, and you mewl, your back arching to deepen the angle, luxuriate in the liquid warmth. Joel isn’t so loud now, not so cocky. He’s reduced to strained groans and whimpers as your body depletes him, greedily taking every drop of cum he has to offer.

It feels like minutes before it finally stops, but with your ass up in the air, none of his cum spills out. Your hips are sore, your ass bruises from his hands, your tits still sitting warmly in his hands. The cool kiss of his wedding band soothes the too-hot press of his body on top of yours, your doubly-slick skin meeting indecently. His lips are on the back of your neck and he thrusts shallowly, wringing the last of his cum from the tip until he's wholly empty and bordering on oversensitive.

You're the first to speak, your throat clogged with drool and some of your own tears.

“Thank fuck I was at the bar that night.”

Joel’s laugh scrapes down your spine along with his beard as he drags himself upright, knowing he’s crushing you. “Never would've had to patch me up”

“Mmm, you're sexy when you're mad,” you point out, your thighs twitching as he carefully guides you onto your side, back to his chest, his cock still acting as a plug for his cum. You’re deliciously full, and you hum happily at the feeling of his warm belly against you, his big arms cradling you close.

“Shouldn't enable violence,” he grumbles. His lashes flutter against your shoulder.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please.”

He chuckles. “You feel okay?”

“I feel good,” you muse, running your fingers along his forearm, the prominent veins under his skin. “I feel excited.”

His grin curves against your skin, the scratch of his moustache sending a shiver up your spine. Outside, the sun begins to dip, and your twin golden rings glimmer in the fiery light.

“Me, too,” he whispers, and you lace your fingers through his, squeezing, both of you practically giddy.

There’s a lull, and for a moment, you think he’s fallen asleep. The sun creeps behind a home across the street, and its watch ends for another day.

“Hey, Joel?”

His mouth meets your throat in a sleepy kiss. “Yeah, baby?”

“I like the name Sarah.”

THE END.

tags: @cavillscurls @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cupofjoel @northernbluess @tieronecrush @joelmillers-whore @bastardmandennis - thank you all so so much for showing excitement for this fic!! kisses for you all 🫶

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader

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theostrophywife · 1 month

Text

my collar.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: she's my collar by gorillaz (feat. kali uchis)

author's note: sometimes theo just needs to be put in his place and i'm more than happy to deliver that 😏

It was heinous.

It was criminal.

It was downright torturous.

Your boyfriend leaned over, his lips grazing your earlobe as he lowered his voice to a husky, seductive tone. “Are you okay, principessa? You seem a little distracted.”

Crimson colored your cheeks as you straightened against the wingback chair, clearing your throat while you looked around the table, which was currently occupied by your closest friends. All of which were none the wiser to the effect Theo had on you tonight.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked out.

“Really?” Theo drawled, sliding his hand down your thigh and squeezing firmly. “Because you haven’t stopped shaking your leg since dinner started. A shame. Malfoy flew in a private chef from France. He really wants to impress his girl. I know what that’s like.”

You inhaled sharply as his hand trailed higher, his rough and calloused fingers slipping underneath the slit of your dress. “Teddy, please…”

“Begging already, dolcezza? I thought we agreed to save that for the bedroom.”

The teasing and taunting, the push and pull, the cat and mouse routine between you and Theo had been constant all night. Punishment for turning down his proposal for a quickie before dinner. It was hard enough to say no to Theo on a normal day, but declining your boyfriend’s proposition of hot, frantic sex while he looked absolutely sinful in a custom three piece suit was nearly impossible. Not to mention painful.

Still, if you’d taken him up on the offer, you most likely would’ve never made it to dinner. You couldn’t do that to Draco. He needed emotional support. Tonight was his first time ingratiating Hermione into your friend group and you promised that you’d do everything in your power to make her feel welcome.

With a sigh, you pried Theo’s fingers off of your thigh. “Behave, Theodore.” Your boyfriend pouted like a petulant child. “Draco needs us.”

You nodded towards the blonde who looked equally panicked and appalled while Blaise recounted embarrassing stories to Hermione. The golden girl seemed amused by the antics, but Malfoy was anything but.

“Save him before he ruptures a blood vessel,” you murmured to your boyfriend. For good measure, you batted your lashes up at him and gave him a look that he couldn’t refuse. “Please, baby.”

Theo sighed, mumbling in Italian under his breath. “Gentlemen. Care for a cigar?”

Thankfully, Zabini’s plan to embarrass the hell out of Draco was momentarily forgotten. Crisis averted. Draco shot you a grateful look, knowing that you were most likely behind the save. Salazar knows that Theo would’ve delighted in the effort of sullying his oldest friend’s reputation if he hadn’t been distracted.

The boys rose from their chairs, excusing themselves from the room. Theo lingered beside you, dipping his head to place a kiss right underneath your jaw. He sucked lightly on the sweet spot and smirked as you melted against him. The bastard was playing dirty.

“You owe me for that, cara mia.”

Desire bloomed in your core, flooding heat through your body as you peered at your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but admire him in his suit. The midnight blue fabric draped over his tall and lean figure like your own personal gift and the deep stormy color brought out his eyes. You flushed as he turned, training his intense gaze on you like he was savoring the sight. With a cheeky grin, Theo shot you a wink before slipping out the door.

Beside you, Pansy tutted in disapproval. “Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.”

You flushed as Hermione bit back a grin. The curly haired witch patted your hand. “You have my sympathy. When I first saw Draco in a suit, I nearly spilled wine all over myself.”

“See, Pans. I’m not the only one,” you murmured in self-defense. “I can’t help it.”

Pansy shook her head, her glossy bob grazing her chin. “You can and you will. Don’t let Nott turn you into a simpering mess. The Y/N I know would bring a man to his knees.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “I think Pansy’s right. You should show Theo who’s really in control.”

You smirked as an idea started forming in your head. “You’re more devious than you look, aren’t you, Granger?” Hermione flashed you an innocent smile, which made you laugh. Draco had his work cut out for him. You liked her all the more for it. “You two have a point. Maybe I’ll give my boyfriend a taste of his own medicine tonight.”

Once your mind was made up, the three of you moved on to more important topics. You were fascinated to hear about Hermione’s work on curing lycanthropy while she was equally curious about the proposed laws that you were in the process of bringing before the Wizengamot. The bill was a passion project of yours because it would give rights and protections to muggle born wizards and witches that had never been afforded to them before. You were ready to fight tooth and nail to see it come to fruition.

Needless to say, you were a little too passionate about it. The last time Rita Skeeter interviewed you under the guise of bringing light to the cause, you nearly strangled the sneaky little witch for taking more interest in your romantic relationship than the work you were trying to achieve. You were glad that Pansy worked her high society charm and publicity experience to diffuse the situation.

In the end, she bribed and threatened the proper people to have the story killed. It was a blessing in disguise since you ended up giving exclusive rights to the Quibbler, which was now spearheaded by your old classmate Luna. She truly did the story justice. As a bonus, her tenacity seemed to have caught the attention of the pickiest witch you knew. No matter how many times Pansy denied it, you knew your friend was smitten.

“Babe, you should take your own advice and just ask Luna out already.”

Your friend nearly choked on her wine. Hermione watched the interaction with an amused expression. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she turned over to Pansy. “I happen to know that you’re just her type.”

Never in your life had you seen Pansy Parkinson blush that furiously. She caught herself, holding her head high in that aristocratic way of hers. “Of course I’m her type,” your friend declared in a haughty tone. “I’m everyone’s type.”

You and Hermione looked at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles. Pansy cracked a smile and laughed along. The three of you were in full hysterics by the time the boys came back.

Theo slipped back into his seat, squeezing your shoulder gently. “What’s so funny, dolcezza?”

“Girl talk,” Hermione answered on your behalf. “It’s not for you boys to hear.”

You nodded in between giggles. “What Granger said.”

Draco groaned. “Bloody hell, they’re unionizing.”

Your boyfriend raised a brow. He placed his hand back on your thigh, resuming the torturous contact from earlier in the night. “Keeping secrets from me now, Y/N?”

You plastered a saccharine sweet smile on your face. Theo observed curiously as you peeled his fingers from your leg before firmly holding his hand. “I thought you liked a little mystery, baby.”

Theo swallowed thickly as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. He held his breath while you pressed your palm against his chest, twirling his tie between red painted fingernails. You lowered your voice into a dark, seductive tone. “Have I told you how good you look tonight? I could just eat you up.”

Lust blown eyes stared back at you, those familiar piercing blue irises completely swallowed by darkness. Theo shifted in his seat as his gaze dropped down to your mouth. You flashed him an innocent smile before releasing his tie and returning to the conversation happening around you. You could feel that burning gaze on you as you laughed and talked with Pansy and Mattheo.

For the rest of the dinner, you kept up the nonchalant act. You mustered every ounce of self-control within you and rebuffed all of Theo’s advances. Every time he leaned in for a kiss, you gave him your cheek instead. When the group moved to the sitting room, you walked by his side instead of leading the way because you knew Theo would take advantage and smack your ass when no one was looking. To his surprise, you slapped his backside with a sly little smirk, causing him to glance over at you in shock.

By the time you were seated on the expensive velvet couch, Theo was practically jittering. His knee bounced beside you as Hermione continued telling you about the Paris trip Draco had planned. Without looking at him, you placed a hand on your boyfriend’s leg and stopped his anxious bouncing. He sighed beside you, no doubt pouting like a petulant child. Yet you didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledgement, which only made him more desperate.

“Let’s get out of here,” Theo whispered into your ear. “You can devour me all you’d like, cara mia.”

You shook your head. “We haven’t even gotten to dessert yet, my love.”

When Draco brought out a spread of chocolate covered strawberries, the opportunity to tease Theo even more quite literally presented itself on a silver platter. You pinched the ripe fruit between your fingers before wrapping your lips around it. Theo watched with rapt attention as you took a slow, deliberate bite, making a whole show of sucking and licking off the chocolate. He gripped the armchair so hard that his knuckles turned white from the strained effort.

You bit back a smirk as he crossed his legs and tried not to groan. It was obvious that you had the upper hand now. Theo was barely paying attention to whatever anecdote Enzo and Mattheo were rambling to him about. Those electric eyes were trained on you as you picked up another strawberry.

“Want a bite, Teddy?” you asked lovingly. “They’re sweet.”

Theo sucked in a breath before nodding slowly. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment. You offered the fruit to him, cradling his cheek gently as he wrapped his lips around the strawberry in a suggestive manner. Theo kept eye contact as he sucked the white chocolate off. You stared back, smiling sweetly as he devoured the fruit in one bite. He seemed frustrated at your unaffected expression, but you were determined not to break. You were going to come out on top tonight. In more ways than one.

Usually, the two of you would be the first to leave. You rarely made it through an entire night without Theo dragging you into the floo so you could tear each other apart back at your shared flat. Tonight was different though. You lasted all the way through midnight, forcing yourself to laugh and chat with your friends as you ignored your boyfriend’s fuck me eyes from across the room.

For that, you made sure you were the last to leave. Theo was convinced he was slowly dying. As soon as the two of you stepped through the floor, your boyfriend scrambled towards your direction, itching to get his hands all over you.

You stepped out of his reach and shook your head. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

Theo looked utterly confused. “I’ve never needed permission before.”

You chuckled darkly. “You really think I’d reward you for acting like a brat all night? You’re going to learn that it’s a bad idea to tease me like that in front of all of our friends.” Theo gaped at your words. “Now, sit. You can use this time to think about what you’ve done.”

“Dolcezza, please —“

”Did I fucking stutter, Theo?” You jutted your chin to the bed. “Sit. I won’t tell you again.”

Judging by the look on his face, Theo was stunned at the sudden change, but you knew your boyfriend well enough to notice that he was entirely turned on by it too. He settled on the edge of the bed, watching in anticipation as you made your way over to the vanity table. As slowly as possible, you took off every piece of jewelry one by one. The diamonds glittered brightly as you removed them from your neck, ears, and fingers.

A tense silence settled in the room while you pulled the pins out of your updo, sending your hair cascading over your shoulders. Theo squirmed in place, groaning at the sight. You knew that seeing your hair down was his weakness.

“Baby,” he pleaded in the darkness. “Can I touch you?”

You cut him a disinterested glance over your shoulder. “You can help me take my dress off.”

Theo sighed in relief as you sauntered over to him. His slender fingers struggled with the zipper, eager to tear the fabric off of your body. You met his gaze through the mirror, giving him a stern look.

“Slow, Theo. You need to be patient.”

Your boyfriend swallowed thickly, struggling to reign himself in. He concentrated on undressing you slowly, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled the zipper down. He cursed under his breath when your dress pooled around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a little lacy green set — his favorite.

The struggle was evident in his expression. His gaze raked over your body, settling on the spiky heels that you purposely kept on. The red soled stilettos clicked against the wooden floors as you closed the gap. You smirked as you settled between his legs and tugged on his tie.

“Your turn,” you rasped while Theo gazed at you with pure hunger. “Let me undress you now.”

“Okay,” Theo murmured, dazed and confused as you unbuttoned his shirt.

He hissed when you raked your nails over his chest and made quick work of his tie. Theo started unbuttoning his shirt, but reeled back when you swatted his hands away. Your boyfriend gazed up at you expectantly, letting his hands fall neatly to his sides while you took over. Without much effort, you expertly unbuckled his belt and kneeled before him to help him slip out of his pants. Once he was stripped down to his boxers, your eyes flickered back to his face.

“Get on the bed,” you commanded.

Theo was mesmerized, inching backwards towards the headboard on his elbows, but keeping his attention on you as you crawled on the mattress with your heels still on. Your boyfriend was completely under your spell as you brought your face close to his, your hair tickling his chest while he eagerly drank you in.

“What do you want?”

“I want to kiss you,” he answered without hesitation.

”Then learn to ask for it.”

Theo nodded, biting his lip. “Can I kiss you?”

You raised a brow, utterly unimpressed. “Try again, Theo.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, canines sinking down. “Can I kiss you, please?”

You smirked, pleased with the magic word. “Good boy.”

Something dark flashed in Theo’s expression. Your words seemed to awaken a new level of lust and desire within him. The praise gave him a rush that he had never felt before. Theo surged forward, his mouth slanting over yours eagerly. He tasted like wine and strawberries, heady and sinful while he kissed you deeply. His tongue slipped past the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You granted his request, licking the roof of his mouth as you battled for control.

Theo welcomed the challenge, groaning into your mouth as he pulled you into his lap. You straddled him and tugged at his hair as you flicked your tongue over his bottom lip, licking and sucking until he groaned with need. Theo took liberties without your permission, his greed getting the best of him as he grinded his hard length against your ass.

You weren’t going to reward his impertinent behavior. You promised to teach him a lesson tonight. Theo gasped as you bit down on his bottom lip before raising his arms above him. He blinked in confusion as you bound him to the headboard with his own tie. It all happened so fast that by the time he noticed, it was already too late.

Theo tugged at the restraints, squirming underneath you. “Please, cara mia. I want to touch you.”

You sighed in disappointment. “Then you should've asked.”

His biceps flexed as he struggled, the veins on his forearms stark and prominent against his olive skin. Panic filled his eyes when he realized that there was no getting out of his binds. “I’m sorry. I got greedy. Please untie me, principessa. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll make it up to you.”

Theo sounded desperate. You traced his swollen lips with your fingers and tugged at his messy brown waves. His eyes were wild as you straddled him. “Oh, you will,” you drawled, flashing him a devious smirk. “After I’m done with you, you’ll learn not to disobey me, my love.”

Your boyfriend panted heavily as you kissed down his chest, sucking and nipping at his flesh in a punishing manner. He was barely breathing as you trailed further south, licking a stripe down his torso. Theo whimpered as you pressed sloppy, openmouthed kisses along his abdominal muscles, leaving hickies in the shape of your initials on his skin. You continued taunting him with your mouth, flicking your tongue along his sinfully delicious happy trail like you had all the time in the world. When you grazed your teeth against his v-lines, Theo tugged at his arms so hard that the headboard rattled.

He was practically in tears as you palmed his cock through the fabric of his underwear. Theo held his breath as you toyed with the band of his boxers, hooking your fingers over the fabric before sliding it off his long legs. His eyes rolled back while you pumped him, applying just the right amount of pressure to have him writhing against your touch.

A desperate little whine slipped past his lips as you licked at the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over his tip and slurping up his precum. His moans filled the room when you took him down your throat, holding his hips down so he can’t fuck up into your mouth like he wants. Theo cursed in Italian as you pumped him with both hands, all the while sucking down and hollowing your cheeks to suction him in.

“Fuck, bella. I’m so close,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “I’m going to cum.”

You withdrew your hands and your mouth at that moment, making him whine and groan from the sudden absence. Theo’s eyes flew wide open, tears filling his vision as you shook your head in disapproval.

“I thought I told you to ask,” you chided. “If you want to cum, use your words.”

“Please, please, baby, I’ll do whatever you want —“

”I know,” you said before settling over him and sliding off your panties. “And what I want is for you to get me off. Think you can help me with that, Theo?”

“Yes, yes. Just untie me and I will. I’ll make you feel good, dolcezza. I promise.”

“Oh, but you can do that right here, right now. With your hands tied.” Theo groaned as you grinded against him, spreading his precum and your slick over him. He moaned when his cock rubbed against your swollen clit with the perfect amount of friction. Theo was bewildered, his breaths coming out in ragged spurts.

“Be a good boy and let me use you as my fuck toy. You can do that, can’t you, Teddy?”

There wasn’t a single coherent thought in his mind. Theo felt the words escape him as you grinded against him. He felt dizzy. His cock was so hard that it hurt and he couldn’t even think straight. You hummed, brushing a finger over his balls before cupping them in your hand.

“Use your words, pretty boy.” Theo blinked back, unable to speak. You grabbed his jaw roughly, forcing him back into focus. “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer.”

Theo whimpered before nodding weakly. “Use me, dolcezza. I’m yours.”

You smirked in satisfaction. Theo groaned as you rubbed your pussy against his cock. When his shaft brushed against your clit, his eyes rolled back so hard that he was convinced he could see the vacantness of his empty mind. You rode him hard and fast, using his body to get you off. The depravity of it turned him on even more. The blood rushed out of his head at the dominance you exhibited. You were utterly selfish, taking what you wanted when you wanted it, and he was so fucking aroused at how cruel his girl could be.

You raked your nails over his chest as you balanced, teasing him with your wet folds without letting him feel you. Theo bit his lip so hard that the action drew blood. You licked away the crimson droplets and he sighed against your mouth as you gave him relief, sloppily kissing him while you moaned his name. He could tell you were getting close by the way you convulsed above him and he cursed as your pussy squelched against his cock.

Theo was in awe as you cried out, cumming while you screamed his name. You slowed the roll of your hips as you lost yourself over to the orgasm, denying him of his own again. Your juices trickled down your thighs and pooled against his stomach. At that point, his cock was so sensitive that it throbbed painfully. Theo was in shambles, his wrists raw and red from tugging so hard.

“Please, please, baby. Let me fuck you. I need it. I need you. I’ll die if I’m not inside you.”

You chuckled, brushing the salty tears pooling underneath his pretty eyes. “Pathetic. Are you begging for me, pretty boy? So desperate to fill me up, to feel my pussy hug around your cock while you pump your cum inside of me, hm?”

“It hurts so bad,” Theo whined. “Please, I’ll do anything. Anything you want. I’ll get on my knees and beg. Please, principessa.”

“Look at you crying for me,” you cooed, caressing his cheek. “Poor Teddy. You’ve been so good. Let me take care of you now.” You soothed him with praises as you untied his arms.

You kissed his wrists as Theo sighed in relief. “Do you want to touch me, baby?”

Theo nodded shyly, which made you smile. His large, rough hands carefully gripped your hips. He looked to you for approval, making sure to check with you for every little thing. You only nodded, dragging his hands up to rest on your breasts. He busied himself with your bra strap, breathing raggedly as he freed your tits from the fabric.

“Can I touch them, please?” Theo asked earnestly.

“Is that all you want?”

“No,” he answered honestly. “I want to kiss them. I want to suck them.” His gaze flickered to your amused expression. “Please, baby.”

“Go ahead. You earned it, pretty boy.”

Theo wasted no time, kneading your tits while kissing down your cleavage. He gasped in surprise when you sank down onto him, nearly sobbing in relief when he felt your pussy hug around his cock. His shaky little breaths seeped into your skin as you took inch after inch, making yourself comfortable on his lap as he sheathed himself inside of you. Theo whined when you lifted your hips until only his remained inside of you.

“Don’t whine, Theo. Be thankful that I’m fucking you instead of punishing you.”

He rested his head on the crook of your neck, attempting to ground himself. “Thank you, baby. I’m grateful. I don’t deserve it, but you’re so good to me.”

With a proud smile, you slammed down to take all of him again. Theo was rendered speechless and his mouth fell open as you bounced on his cock. Desperately, he scrambled to catch your perky breasts into his mouth. Your boyfriend sucked on your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples. You moaned as he nipped at you, tensing when you yanked him by his hair.

Theo stared at you, waiting for direction. Knowing that you had this much control over him made you clench. In your relationship, Theo tended to take on the dominant role, but now that you knew that your boyfriend was more than open to being submissive, you were ready to explore this new dynamic.

“I like this side of you,” you murmured, kissing down his jaw and neck. His breath hitched as you slowly rolled your hips. “So obedient. So willing. So submissive.” A shiver shuddered through him as you wrapped your fingers around his neck. “Tell me who you belong to, Theo.”

“You, baby,” he rasped. “Only you.”

“Show me,” you commanded as you squeezed his throat. It was enough to make Theo feel dizzy, momentarily cutting off his oxygen. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

The desire to please you overwhelmed him. All thoughts of his own pleasure faded. It was secondary to the need to hear you praise him, to validate him, to call him your good boy. He hooked his arm around your waist, shifting his hips to fuck into you at a deeper angle. You moaned above him as your bodies melded together. Sweat, sin, and sex permeated the air while he worshiped at your altar.

Theo watched his cock disappear between your folds, his gaze flickering from your pussy to your face, eager to know if his actions pleased you. You brushed his hair back, gentle and loving, while you talked him through it.

“That’s it, Teddy. Fill me up.” Theo thrusted as you bounced, groaning as he hit the sweet spot that made your body sing. “Just like that. Fuck, it’s so good. You’re so good, baby.”

Your forehead dropped to his, rewarding him with sweet little kisses every time he hit the spongy spot that had you seeing stars. He relished in your compliments, felt himself craving it like a drug. When your pussy clenched around him to signal your release, Theo continued to fuck you through the orgasm. There was a reverent glimmer in his eyes like he was witnessing something holy when you came.

Theo could feel his own release nearing, but he knew better than to cum without asking. It was abundantly clear to him that you were in control tonight. “Can I cum? Please, principessa?”

“Of course you can,” you replied with a blissed out smile. “Good boys get to cum.”

He held his breath, feeling warmth spread throughout his body. “I’ve been a good boy?”

“Mhm,” you murmured, pulling him in for a soft kiss. “The best boy.” Even though you were sensitive and overstimulated, you made sure to reward his good behavior. Picking up the pace, sliding easily up and down his cock thanks to your wetness, you whispered the words that you knew would push Theo over the edge. “Now be a good boy and cum inside of me, baby.”

Theo cried out with a shout, shuddering underneath you as he shot hot ribbons deep inside your pussy. You could feel his cum filling you up, warm and wet as it trickled out. He panted against your neck as his cock twitched inside of you, releasing his load with each pump. As he emptied himself out, Theo slowed, his body collapsing from the intensity of the orgasm.

When he regained consciousness, he was flat on his back. Theo blinked away the white spots in his vision. It felt like his soul had left his body entirely. He had cum so hard he passed out. As he rejoined the physical realm, Theo opened his eyes to find you cleaning him up. You were so sweet and gentle, the complete opposite of the selfish lover you’d been just a few moments ago. It warmed his heart to know that you’d always take care of him no matter what.

Theo smiled as you kissed his forehead. A small whimper escaped his mouth as you pulled his boxers over his legs, his cock still sensitive from the intense sex. You whispered sweet nothings into his ear, soothing him as you brushed your fingers through his hair. Theo cuddled against your side and sighed happily.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered.

You giggled, pressing soft kisses all over his face. “Did you like that?” You asked, teasing your boyfriend. “It seems like you did.”

He hummed against your skin, brushing his lips against your neck. “Fuck, I think you just unlocked a new kink for me.” You chuckled at his words. “That was so fucking hot, baby.”

“You know, I was trying to teach you a lesson,” you mused. “I didn’t quite expect you to enjoy getting degraded this much.”

“Degrade me whenever you want, dolcezza.”

"Really?" you hummed, musing on his willingness. "How far would you let me go? If I broke out a leash and collar, would you have stopped me?"

You were half-joking, but the eager expression on your boyfriend's face told you that he was more than willing to make your suggestion into a reality.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, cara mia." Theo wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. "I'd crawl to you on my hands and knees if you asked. If you're the one asking, there's nothing I wouldn't do."

The power definitely gave you a head rush. As much as you relished in the hold you had over him, you tucked the knowledge away for later. There was plenty of opportunity to act out all your dirtiest, filthiest fantasies, but for now, you were more than content to snuggle with the love of your life.

You smirked, nipping at his jaw. “That’s my good boy.”

#i want to put him in a pretty little pink collar #theo nott #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theo nott imagine

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ellecdc · 1 month

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can i request a reader x poly!marauders where the reader finds a stray kitten and she hides in her robes so she can feed it in morning and just carries it around school.

it’s the boys vs a kitten for reader’s attention, especially sirius sometimes he’s talking smack to the kitten who’s a asleep and then reader catches him and scolds him for it

loolllll poor Siri. Thanks for your request!

Sirius' Arch Nemesis

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: brief mention of Sirius' crappy childhood but very brief and it's only for dramatic effect (it's from Sirius' POV, obviously)

Some may deem this dramatic, but Sirius was very sure that this was quite possibly one of the worst things to have ever happened to him.

“Now, that’s a little dramatic, Pads.” Peter chided, watching you coo at a little bundle hidden beneath your robes as you fed it pieces of chicken at dinner.

“She used to feed me chicken like that.” Sirius pouted, causing Remus to snort.

“She’s never once fed you like that, Pads.”

“Awe, poor Siri.” James cooed, sounding awfully sympathetic to his musings; at least Sirius had one ally here. “Would you like me to feed you chicken like that?”

Sirius gave James his best kicked puppy impression (which was very easy seeing as he was a giant puppy and had spent his entire life training for it) and nodded. “Yes please, Jamie.”

James cooed again and pressed a kiss to Sirius’ cheek before dutifully stabbing a piece of chicken and bringing it to Sirius’ mouth.

“Merlin you guys are embarrassing.” Remus muttered as he turned back to watch you dote over the runty little kitten that you’d found in Hogsmeade last weekend all on its lonesome.

“You should leave it here, dovey. His mama may be looking for him.” Remus tried, though he couldn’t deny that the kitten did look particularly pathetic. The tiny thing was shaking, crying, and looked sort of wet or dirty - Remus may not know much but he was quite certain no kitty mama would let their little one walk around in such a state.

Remus nearly whimpered when you turned your face up to the three boys standing over you with tears in your eyes, your face overflowing with empathy. “Can we wait here then? To see if the mama comes back for him?”

Remus ignored the petulant whining’s from Sirius as he sat himself down beside you in camaraderie with nothing more than a sigh. How could he say no to such a reasonable albeit emotional request?

“Jamie?” You murmured, and Remus wasn’t sure how much of the pout was honest and how much of it was to gain sympathy for your cause, but James was quickly at your side.

“Yes, angel?”

“Do you think you could ask Madame Rosmerta for some water? Maybe tuna if she has some?”

James looked like he really didn’t want to do that but also felt he was in no position to deny you.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He conceded, pressing a kiss to your hair and causing Sirius to grumble.

“Why don’t you come with me, Pads? Once we bring it back we can head to Zonko's whist these two wait.” James offered, causing Sirius to brighten up considerably.

Needless to say, the mama cat never did show up and the kitten let out a number of pathetic little sneezes from its curled-up place in your lap.

“It’s getting dark, dove. Curfew is soon.” Remus reminded you gently.

“I can’t leave it here, Rem.” You moaned, still never raising your eyes from the kitten as it kneaded biscuits into your robes.

And Remus really hated to admit it, but he didn’t think you could leave it here either.

So, thanks to your bleeding heart and Remus’ lack of self-restraint when it came to anything you ever wanted, Sirius was effectively being replaced by a tiny little devil.

“I don’t know why you’re so wound up about this Black.” Marlene taunted from her place in her girlfriend’s lap as said girlfriend massaged her scalp on the couch of the Gryffindor common room. “It’s just a tiny kitten.”

“'Just a tiny kitten'.” Sirius sneered back at his best friend. “Right, so tell me, Miss. ‘My-Girlfriend-Is-Currently-Snuggling-And-Petting-Me-Right-At-This-Very-Moment’, what do you see my girlfriend doing right now?”

Marlene barely maneuvered her head from Dorcas’ lap to see you curled up near the fire with a book in your hand and that stupid kitten in your lap.

“She’s reading to her cat?” Dorcas responded bemusedly, clearly not seeing what the big deal is.

“Exactly!” Sirius huffed. “That should be me.”

“Oh, my gods.” Marlene grumbled as she stood from her place, grabbing Dorcas’ hand to pull her up too. “Can we go snuggle in the snake pit? I can’t handle Sirius’ level of dramatics tonight.”

“Some friend you are!” Sirius shouted at Marlene’s retreating form as the portrait hole closed behind them.

James and Remus were currently at a prefect’s meeting with James being head-boy and Remus as (the head-boy’s favourite) prefect.

Usually, you and Sirius would spend this time together just the two of you, which was hard to come by sometimes in such a relationship as yours. One-time you guys went and used the bath in the prefect’s bathroom knowing that all the prefects would be busy for the next hour and having gained the password from your boyfriends’. Another time, you two fashioned your own prank without the help of the other Marauder’s and even got away with it!

But right now, Sirius just wanted to cuddle.

But that was fine! If it was animals you wanted to cuddle with, Sirius was more than happy to oblige.

With a quick glance to ensure that the common room was empty, Sirius quickly shifted into Padfoot and made his way over to you.

Padfoot was feeling pretty confident in his plan, that is until he heard a nasty little sound emanating from your lap.

“Sirius!” You scolded, picking up the now very spiky and angry looking kitten from your lap. “You’re scaring him, Pads!” You cooed, tucking the kitten into the collar of your jumper.

The portrait hole opened at this and James and Remus entered the room hand-in-hand, laughing about something before turning to take in the scene.

“Uh oh...” James started, making his way over to the two three of you currently sitting near the fire. “Did Padfoot try to eat the kitten?”

Padfoot harumphed the best he could in his current doggy form. Is good dog, he thought, would not eat...only maim.

“The kitten is frightened.” You pouted, looking to James for sympathy. James looked like he was considering giving it to you, but Remus spoke up as he scratched placatingly behind Padfoot’s ears.

“Perhaps you should bring him upstairs, dovey. Give him some quiet time.”

You readily agreed, much to Padfoot’s chagrin, and left the common room. Now you’d be all the way up there and he’d definitely not get any cuddles.

“Okay, is anyone else sort of jealous of the cat?” James finally muttered plainly once he knew you were out of ear shot.

Yes, Padfoot thought as he quickly shifted back to Sirius. “Yes! It’s like she’s replacing us!”

Remus scoffed at that. “No one is being replaced, boys. Just relax.”

Sirius levelled his boyfriend with a glare. “Yeah? When’s the last time she read to you by the fire, Moons?”

Remus paused and seemed to think on that for a moment before his eyes darted back to Sirius. “I still think you’re being dramatic.”

“It’s been since the kitten, hasn’t it Remus?” Sirius argued, not willing to let it go.

“Sirius, she’s allowed to love things other than us.”

Both Sirius and James scoffed at that. “I think bloody not!” James retorted.

“I can concede if she likes other things, but she cannot love anything more than me! She needs to love me the most!” Sirius insisted, causing both of his boyfriends to look at him funny.

“Oh?” James asked with a bemused frown.

“Is that how it is, really? You think she loves you the most out of all of us?” Remus continued.

Sirius levelled them with a look he hoped portrayed a “yeah, duh”.

“Is that how this relationship works for you Sirius? Which of us do you love the most?” James demanded, crossing his arms in that way Sirius loves because it makes his muscles bulge.

“Me, obviously.” He answered simply.

“You’re your own favourite?” Remus deadpanned.

Sirius shrugged. “Yeah, I’m awesome.”

“You’re not supposed to have favourites!” James whined.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been like ‘oh merlin, right now Moony is my favourite’?” Sirius asked him.

James scoffed indignantly. “Right now, he very well might be!”

Instead of having the effect he hoped that comment would on Sirius, Sirius nodded in agreement. “See? Favourites.”

“You’re an idiot.” Remus grumbled as he stood and made his way upstairs.

“Do you really have favourites?” James asked quietly once Remus had left, his voice giving way to a vulnerability that made Sirius melt.

“Not a chance, bubs.” Sirius insisted, placing a kiss to James’ temple as he pulled the spectacled boy into his side. “I just like arguing with Moony; he makes it so easy to take the piss.”

James chuckled and allowed some tension to leave his body.

“No, but seriously, what are we going to do about that kitten?” James piped up and pulled away so he could look into Sirius’ face.

“I suppose my current plan of feeding it to the Hippogriffs is a no?” Sirius asked. He was answered by an unamused glare from James.

“Fine. Fine. Hopefully the novelty will wear off soon.” Sirius conceded. For as much shit as he gave you, he did sort of love how much you loved anything and everything that might be in need of some; himself included.

James and Sirius watched the flames dance in the fireplace for some time, just enjoying the quiet company that the two of them very rarely shared together.

“Why don't we go see what those two are up to, hm?” James asked eventually, helping Sirius up from his position on the floor and heading up the stairs towards the boy's dorm.

The room was quiet as they entered and when Sirius turned after closing the door to survey the room, he let out a horrified gasp.

“How in the buggering hell did he manage that!?” He whisper shouted, pointing to Remus laying on his bed with you pulled into his side, nuzzled into the crook of his arm.

As James moved to survey the two of you from another side, his face morphed into a pained grimace. “Pads, maybe it’s best we-”

But it was too late, Sirius had seen all he needed to see.

“You bloody traitor!” He nearly shrieked, albeit not loud enough to stir you nor the stupid fucking kitten currently curled up in a very content ball on Remus’ chest from your respective slumber’s.

If Remus had been pretending to sleep, his ruse was given away by a smug smirk gracing his face.

“Better luck next time, Sirius.” He goaded, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your arm as you burrowed further into the werewolf’s side.

Sirius had been beaten, crucio’d, starved, disowned and homeless in his eighteen years of life. But this right here was without a doubt the worst thing to have ever happened to him.

937 notes · View notes

thesaurus · 2 years

Text

// okay obviously the cat doesn’t fluently speak English (I’m sure he understands some) but

// do you think my brother could not yell at him because he got hissed at? Like don’t go over to his perch in the window and tell him he’s a bad cat and shit

// jfc

// “well he started it!”

// he’s a cat and HE LIVES HERE leave him fucking alone

// YOU COME INTO MY HOME ANS TELL AT MY SON? Gtfo

// needless to say my mother did nothing

// meanwhile I’m almost in tears in the other room, like, what is wrong with you?

#he acts like a petulant preschooler and my mother refuses to parent him #like you don’t get to come over anymore and sit on my couch if you do this #he is a CAT

0 notes

misojunnie · 7 months

Text

CHERRY ─ psh. ❀

a lollipop a day keeps park sunghoon away…

# genre: outcast!sunghoon x class prez!fem!reader, enemies to lover, slow burn, high school au, 90’s au

# warnings: insults, minor violence, substances/partying, cursing, lil makeout sesh, minor bullying, portrays some idols in a bad light; inaccurate and not how I view them!

# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + txt + aespa

# playlist: not for sale by enhypen, still into you by paramore, chaser by woodz, high school sweethearts by melanie martinez

# a/n: hi guys!!! it’s insane that the cherry teaser got so many likes omg. ty guys so much!! plz enjoy <3 (dont let this flop)

# word count: 13.1k

# taglist: @alicesolengg @ningngyu @ramenoil @simjakeissohot @skzenhalove @parkhonnie @denleave1088 @voidbeomgyu @ilymarkchan @everyoneluvscheol @haerinpham @fakeuwus @chesh1re-cat @advesperamz @papiibuprofen @loveliii @cutiejseong @luvyouchuu @hancafe @aeminju @chaerybae @b1ndignity @edilysoob @river-06 @fariylixie0915 @amortenha @hoonpalettes @asyleums @moonmoongi @jyndre @parksunghoonsgf @whippedforbeomgyu @dianzed @soobliss-blog @manooffline @iscocohere @saythenameseventeen178 @woniewonn @luv4cheol @tinylittlebuggi @h-hazwie @ddazed-lhs @enhacolor @hiqhkey @webqrl @ilovewonyo @aesunghoon @hanienie @jrjr289

it isn’t a well disguised fact that park sunghoon doesn’t like you–no, hate would be a better word. park sunghoon hates you, and he makes it clear to everyone who knows him. but when you leave him a different flavored lollipop every day, it gets a little harder to loathe you.

[more under the cut!]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 - chapter i.

Park Sunghoon finds solace in the fact that he annoys you.

He isn’t sure he truly does, as you’re quite adept at keeping your face blank when something pisses you off. But for a moment, that bright, customer-service smile slips, and the left corner of your lip twitches when he sneers at you from across the room. That’s how he likes it. He likes that he has an effect on you, negative or otherwise, although it was always the former.

“You need to let it go.” Jake sighed as he watched Sunghoon’s eyes follow you across the room when you stand to pass out the second semester chemistry syllabus. “I don’t even understand why you don’t like her."

“How could you not?” he phrased his question like a statement.

“Well, first of all, she’s my math tutor.” Jake says, smacking the top of his best friend’s head with a rolled up spiral notebook, crumpling his notes. “So I have to get along with her. And second of all, she makes it pretty easy considering she’s such a catch.” Sunghoon groaned in annoyance, a petulant frown on his pretty face.

“God, you’re so brainless.” Sunghoon whined. “You’re just another one of the idiots completely infatuated with her.”

Well, why wouldn’t he be? You’re the president of the school council, head of the party planning committee, photographer of the yearbook club, and the school newspaper’s best writer. It’s an intricate balancing act, and a wonder that you could keep it up on the daily.

“I’m not infatuated.” Jake said with an indignant hiss. “I just don’t hold stupid grudges– shit, she’s coming.” The Aussie cleared his throat and painted an enthusiastic and eager smile onto his face as you approached the boy’s shared table.

“Good morning.” you chirped, and Jake grinned in response. “Here’s the syllabus.” You passed a double sided sheet of paper to each of them, gently setting it down on the desk. It didn’t escape Sunghoon’s attention that his was wrapped up in a roll, a piece of tape closing the document into a cylinder. You sent him a soft smile, looking at him through your lashes, before backing away from the table and moving onto the next pair of students who were waiting to receive their assignment. Sunghoon rolled his eyes, hesitantly peeling off the strip of adhesive and unrolling the paper to reveal the object inside, Jake peering curiously over his shoulder in an attempt to see.

“God, she’s still at it.” Sunghoon groaned, reaching down to pick up a small lollipop, a vivid yellow and wrapped in a holographic piece of cellophane with a little red ribbon tying it closed. “I thought she might’ve stopped.”

“Dude, you’re so lucky.” Jake breathed enviously, and Sunghoon looked at him with distaste. “You know how many guys in this school would kill to get a lollipop from her?” Sunghoon ignored his best friend's implorations, unwrapping the treat and shoving it into his mouth.

Lemon. He hated lemon.

When he looked back to the front of the classroom, you were setting the remaining stack of papers on the teacher’s desk, peeking at Sunghoon’s reaction. You seemed somewhat pleased to see the boy sucking on the sweet you had left him, and you sent a bright smile in his direction. His eyes were drawn to your shirt, which was adorned with what he thought was a very tacky depiction of a dove and some hearts, and he inwardly grimaced. Apparently, it wasn’t too inward judging by the look on your face.

He smirked, lifting up his hand and subtly sending you a different kind of bird with his middle finger. Your smile dropped entirely, and you rubbed your lips together in annoyance, retreating to your desk with a mix of frustration and despondence. That made him very satisfied.

“Would it kill you to be nice for once?” Jake asked, a skeptical look on his face as he watched the entire encounter go down. Sunghoon shrugged, setting his hand down on his desk and strumming his slender fingers on the wooden surface.

“Probably.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Today was yet another failed attempt at making Park Sunghoon like you.

You had to admit, you weren’t entirely pleased with your lollipop arrangement, and by that, you meant that you hated it. Treating Sunghoon like a human being with real emotions was so hard when he was such a piece of shit. You let out an exhausted sigh, hopping onto the counter of the candy shop. Your best friend laughed at your theatrics, wiping his hand with a white rag and tossing you a packet of red licorice.

“What’s the problem?” Jungwon asked inquisitively as though he didn’t already know the answer. “Sunghoon again?” His tone was filled with pity, and you hated it. You rolled onto your stomach, ripping open the packaging and tucking one of the red ropes into your mouth with a heavy sigh, blinking twice hard, before frowning.

“He’s not budging.”

“That’s a shame. I’m almost out of lollipop flavors.” Jungwon tutted with disappointment, reaching into his pocket and removing his hand with a treat, barely able to hold back the anticipating grin on his face. He tossed it to you. “Or am I?”

“You’re a lifesaver.” you sighed, pocketing it. “I’m not sure how you keep coming up with more.” Your best friend simply shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Chef’s secret,” he smiled.

Jungwon had adored candy since you met him, but the only thing he adored more than eating candy was making candy. This came in handy during basically every holiday or romance related occasion. A handmade bouquet of chocolate covered strawberries, a box filled to the brim with toffee, or a lollipop. He liked lollipops the most. “Maybe you should stop with the lollipops. I’m down to my last vial 0f strawberry flavoring and our restock isn’t until next Monday.” he scrunched his nose up at the thought.

“What if he gets pissed off once I stop giving him them, and then he gets even meaner?” you wondered aloud. “What would I do then?”

“Um, report him to the principal?” Jungwon suggested, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and you shot up into a sitting position.

“Absolutely not.” you hissed. “I have to beat him.” You raised your fist to the air, seething with vengeance. “I will make that pretty bastard like me, goddamn it.” This was it. Jungwon was convinced that you had finally gone ‘round the bend. A ringing sound resounded through the shop as someone pushed through the front door with a grin.

“Did someone say pretty bastard?” he said, arms held out playfully as he turned his nose up to the ceiling. You only pouted in response. “Awww, baby what’s wrong?” he asked, circling his hands around your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead while Jungwon stuck out his tongue.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” you dismissed the topic with a wave of your hand and a sigh. You knew very well that if Heeseung got word of the way Sunghoon was treating you, you’d have a dead body on your hands. “How was practice?”

“Pretty good. Coach says I’m doing well. Could get a scholarship.” He cuddled up to you, until something hard and spherical hit him in the face, and he gripped his nose with a groan, bending down to pick up the fallen object.

“No cuddling in the store.” Jungwon said, a hand on the door as he came back to the counter, a thin white stick protruding from his mouth. “It’ll scare the customers.”

“Likely.” Heeseung scoffed, yet he pulled the wrapper off the lollipop and shoved it in his mouth, swirling the sphere on his tongue. “You wanna go see that new movie, Ten Things I Hate About You? It’s playin’ tonight and Beomgyu said it’s good.” You laughed, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ sound, and tucking it between your own lips. Jungwon gagged on his lunch.

“I don’t trust any movie that Beomgyu says is good.”

“Ah, c’mon babe. It’ll be fun.” he said, returning his hands to your waist as you smiled. He had a way of making you smile even when you were at your lowest.

“Alright.” you caved, and he pumped his fist, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Glad you said yes, because I already bought tickets.” You chastised him, but he only laughed and grabbed your waist, lifting you off the counter like a sack of potatoes while you shrieked. “Thanks for the sucker, Won!”

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun!” he yelled after the two of you until you were out of sight, hopping into his old Dodge Viper with lovesick, giddy smiles on your faces. Then the boy sighed, rolling his eyes. “Pricks.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

“Red Vines.”

“Gotta be Charleston Chews.”

“Ew, no fucking way. Charleston Chews are just s'mores without the best part.” you scoffed, finger wagging in your boyfriend’s face as the exasperated teenage cashier watched you argue about your candy choices for the movie you were about to watch.

“I’ll let that go, because I love you.” he warned. “But Charleston Chews are the best candy.” Despite his protest, he reached for the Red Vines on the shelf and dropped them next to the cash register as he removed his wallet from his pocket.

“Thanks, baby.” you kissed him on the cheek, and he sent you a grin for the reward. “But they definitely taste like shit.” you said cheekily, and he smacked you lightly on the top of the head, before grabbing your Red Vines and pulling you away.

“I’ll get you back for that.” He teased, and you stuck your tongue out. “Oh shit, I left my Coke at the register.” You laughed at his blatant forgetfulness as he smacked himself in the forehead. “Go, hurry. I’ll wait here.” He darted out the exit, excusing himself and apologizing as he ran past a pair entering the theater, almost knocking their popcorn out of their hands. “Where’s he off to in a rush?” one of them asked incredulously, the other mumbling incoherent responses as they seated themselves. Great, the teenage cynics who apparently had a grudge against your boyfriend were sitting right next to you.

“Heeseung’s really been busy lately.” one said, and your ears perked up at their use of his name. “With scholarships, and all that. Must be hella tired.” The voice sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn’t exactly place who it belonged to.

“Yeah, as if.” another scoffed. “He’s probably busy making out with his fuckface girlfriend.” Your eye twitched.

“C’mon, don’t be mean. What’s she ever done to you?’ another said.

“She’s awful. You’re so gullible.” the same disparaging voice said, and you huffed. You recognized that drawl, you had heard it somewhere but you weren’t sure where. “Heeseung’s an idiot. The both of them can go to hell.” Enough was enough. You stood, reaching over to the cynical boy sitting directly next to you and grabbed the front of his shirt, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his shock.

“You got something to say about me and my boyfriend?” you hissed.

“Have you had your break today? We all need to get away, there’s one place that’s on your way,” the jolly actors sang as the screen suddenly lit up with an advertisement, the lights turning on and revealing the boy before you.

“Y/n?” Sunghoon asked incredulously, and you grit your teeth. He got a reaction out of you. You had completely played yourself.

Despite your instant regret, you continued to grip on his shirt. “Park Sunghoon.”

“What are you doing here?” he hissed under his breath, and your eyes darted to Jake, sitting beside him. He looked utterly stunned. He had never seen you react to Sunghoon’s tauntings before; even Sunghoon never had the pleasure of seeing you burst out in a properly angry reaction.

“Seeing a movie with my boyfriend.” you muttered. Sunghoon didn’t respond, and you thought this might be the first time you had seen him off guard.

You dropped his shirt, letting him plop back down onto the cushioned seat.

You had seriously messed up. Sunghoon was never supposed to see you angry, more than anyone. You were about to do some damage control when Heeseung strode straight through the swinging doors with a box of Charleston Chews and a plastic cup of Coke so large it looked like it could cause diabetes immediately upon consumption.

Heeseung always had incredibly bad timing.

“Hey baby.” he slid into the seat next to you, pecking a kiss onto your cheek. He coughed on his soda pop when he saw the pair staring at him, seated directly next to you, one boy looking at him like he had just ran over his cat. “Oh, hey guys. Jake,” he said, nodding to the older boy of the two. “How’s varsity tryouts?”

“Going good.” Jake said meekly. The two were acquainted from their time on the rugby team, yet Jake suddenly felt extremely intimidated by the older boy. You said nothing, leaning back in your seat with a perturbed look on your face.

Once you and Heeseung finally struck up a conversation, Jake leaned in and grabbed the front of Sunghoon’s shirt with an extremely stressed expression.

“Are you trying to get us killed?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Sunghoon snapped, not sounding sorry at all. “Christ, you really had to book the seats right next to Jack and Joan Sprat?”

“I didn’t know they’d be sitting there.” Jake said through gritted teeth, and it was easy to see that the poor boy was at his breaking point. “I would just like to get through this movie peacefully.” he rubbed his temples, expecting protest. But to Jake’s surprise, the boy didn’t complain. He was much too busy staring at you. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah, I got it.” the boy rolled his eyes, turning away. Jake looked at him in a double take, shocked at the boy’s compliancy, but pleasantly surprised.

Maybe this would be a nice trip to the theater after all.

Of course, nothing could be peaceful when you and Sunghoon were in the same room together. The tension was undeniable, even to your oblivious boyfriend.

Safe to say you only registered about half of the movie.

Not to say that the film wasn’t engrossing. In fact, you were beginning to seriously enjoy it. Sunghoon, however, was enjoying the movie a bit less than you were.

“This is so fucking stupid.” he muttered to Jake as the main characters bickered on screen. “This would never happen in real life.”

“That’s why it’s a movie, dumbass. Now can you shut up? You’re seriously bumming me out.” Jake snapped back, slapping the back of Sunghoon’s head. Sunghoon reached over to retaliate, knocking his cup of Sprite over in the process, spilling the entire contents of the plastic container directly onto your skirt. You squealed, and Heeseung cursed, pulling you up as he dug in his pockets for napkins. You glared at Sunghoon and saw that he looked rather surprised at his own action, and for a moment you doubted if he did it on purpose. But then the look of shock shifted into one of satisfaction, and you chose to not give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Gosh, I’m sorry.” Sunghoon said in a way that told you he wasn’t sorry at all.

“That’s one hell of a mess.” Heeseung kissed his teeth, attempting to use the napkins to clean off your skirt, but the people behind you began to boo at your obstruction of their view. “Alright people, Jesus. We’re moving.” He took your hand and pulled you back down, still attempting to dry you off. While you greatly appreciated the effort, it was doing practically nothing to help.

“It’s okay, Hee.” you said, pushing his hands off with a tight smile. “It’ll dry.” You sighed, reaching for the box of Charleston Chews. You didn’t even like this stupid candy, but you needed something sweet to calm your temper or you were going to kill someone. Your hand exited the box covered in melted chocolate, and you threw your head back in displeasure. But suddenly, an idea struck you.

The sacrifice of your boyfriend's candy was worth it.

You sloppily upturned the box into Sunghoon’s lap, the half-melted chocolate slipping onto his light tan pants as he inhaled sharply, his lip pulled between his teeth.

“Whoops.” you said with a smile, turning back to the screen.

Sure, you were done being nice to Park Sunghoon. But you still tucked a sucker into his pocket, hoping he would find it on his way home and at least have some kind of consolation for his ruined trousers.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Sunghoon collapsed onto his bed, reaching under his bed frame for something beneath. When his hand emerged, it held a dark green spiral notebook, with a pencil held by a strap of elastic. He swirled the lollipop around his mouth, thinking carefully for a few moments before flipping to the next open page on his notebook.

“June 15th, 1999… Strawberry… cheesecake…” He mused under his breath as he jotted it down on the lined paper, biting the inside of his left cheek with furrowed brows. “Maybe just strawberry cream?” he thought to himself, biting the end of his pencil before shaking his head. “Had to be cheesecake.” He surely sounded insane to anyone who was listening from the outside, yet this was a nightly routine for the teen, notebook and pencil in hand as he pondered the flavor of the day.

He had tasted birthday cake, banana split, bubblegum, gingerbread, black licorice, pina colada, pretty much any flavor that even Willy Wonka himself could come up with. He thought he might’ve had every lollipop flavor in the universe, and the pages of his notebook had become worn with your endless supply of sugary treats.

However, he did find it odd that you had never given him cherry before.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 - chapter ii.

There was something you had never told anyone. Not to Heeseung, not even to Jungwon, and you told him just about everything, maybe too much. No, this secret went untold, and you planned to take it with you to your grave.

Park Sunghoon was your first love.

It’s not like he ever loved you back. This was your freshman year of high school, the first time you met the young charmer, who at the time was wide eyed and raven haired, quiet and not very conversational. At the ripe age of 14, he wasn’t fully comfortable in his skin yet, not making many friends and focusing on building his figure skating career rather than on his grades. He was nerdy, he was awkward, and he was always alone in the cafeteria, picking absentmindedly at his food while he daydreamed.

He was beautiful. You found yourself unable to look away.

Even in your freshman year, rising up the school hierarchy wasn’t difficult. You joined the school council in your first week at Decelis High, easily acquiring the vice president position once election day came around, leading you to take the president position eventually. You started writing in the newspaper club in your second month of high school, your teachers recognizing your potential and promoting you to head editor as well as a journalist, and students immediately began to respect your brave commentary on the school’s weak ethics and poor handling of their students. School was improved when you joined, and the student body found that their day brightened up when you walked down the hall with your signature smile.

Which is why it was odd that you fell hopelessly head over heels for a quiet boy who interacted with no one and didn’t speak unless spoken to, head perpetually in the clouds. And despite your undeniable popularity, he never paid a lick of attention to you.

It took until your junior year for him to even speak to you. When his head wasn’t somewhere over the rainbow, he was focusing on skating, skipping classes to run to the rink for a quick session with his trainer. And when he wasn’t skating, he was playing soccer. Through the rose tinted lenses of love, you thought he was an excellent player, but supposedly his coach didn’t agree. He was benched for nearly all his games.

You never told him you had feelings for him, but the closest you came was when you showed up to the soccer game he was playing in with a button on your shirt that said “Go Sunghoon!”. You cheered for him the entire time, even if the only reason he was playing was because Kang Taehyun had sprained his ankle.

Sunghoon scored one goal, but the more experienced player had sucked up the pain and decided to jump into the game last-minute, scoring the winning goal and sending the audience into a frenzy like they had just won the olympics and not an amateur high school soccer game. The team picked up Taehyun on their backs and ran around the field toting him on their shoulders like a trophy, and poor Sunghoon was left on the bench with a frown, wishing that he could’ve been the one on their shoulders being celebrated. You felt so bad for him that you stood up, cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled for his attention, garnering weird stares from those next to you, but you didn’t care. When you yelled his name with a cheer, he looked up into the stands and sent you the most luminous smile you had ever seen, one that could’ve made the sun itself envious of his radiance.

Which is why it confused you when he hated your guts less than a year later.

You never really understood why Sunghoon disliked you. It was a mystery, not only to you, but to everyone who knew about it, even Jungwon, who had seen more ugly and intolerable sides of you than anyone. Nobody really knew why Park Sunghoon despised you, so they just stopped trying to figure out why.

But not you. You needed to know why he didn’t like you, why the boy who you loved so dearly ended up hating you so much he was spiteful at your mere existence.

Your first memory of Sunghoon was the first day of high school, when he came through the school gates with a big, red sucker in his mouth and an overwhelmed look on his face. So you decided lollipops were the best way to win him over.

But with every canned stick of orange creamsicle, every discarded cotton candy and crushed lemonade, your feelings slowly left you until the love you once felt for the boy disappeared as he left his tally on your heart, then faded into nothing.

Then you met Heeseung. On January 1st, just as the clock struck midnight at Choi Yeonjun’s New Years party, he asked you to be his girlfriend. And suddenly, you didn’t really care if Sunghoon loved you back or not.

But you never stopped wanting him to like you.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

You were entirely done with being nice to Park Sunghoon. After nearly a year of being treated like the scum on the bottom of his shoes, you weren’t afraid of him anymore, you weren’t afraid of showing him how truly done you were. But Jungwon still had buckets full of lollipops left for you, so you supposed the lollipop charade could go on for a bit longer.

You still didn’t like him though. That’s what you told yourself.

“She’s acting differently.” Sunghoon scrunched his eyes into scrutinizing crescents as he watched you stride down the hallway nonchalantly. Just a moment previously, you had met his eyes while you walked, textbook clutched to your chest, and rather than sending him a joyous smile or a wave, you ignored him as though he wasn’t even there, which shocked him thoroughly.

Plus, it was the fourth period and you hadn’t even given him a lollipop yet.

“You’re just salty that she poured her Charleston Chews on you. You’re imagining it.” Jake scoffed, eyes attached to his book, scanning over every word.

“No, you don’t get it.” Sunghoon huffed exasperatedly, arms crossed as he watched you saunter to Heeseung’s side and allow him to pull you into his embrace. “She’s never ignored me like this before. She doesn’t just… look away.”

“So she doesn’t like you anymore. Big deal.” Jake shrugged, but Sunghoon seemed rather upset by this sudden change of events. “You fumbled the bag, that’s all.” Sunghoon’s eyes shot to his shorter companion as they narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“C’mon, dude. You had y/n y/l/n, the ultimate sweetheart of Decelis High, practically begging for your attention, and you were nothing but mean to her. I mean, anyone would want to be in your place. Of course she’s sick of you.”

“Yeah but-”

“But nothing.” Jake punched Sunghoon’s arm, putting a soft dent in the fabric of his puffy jacket, and the weaker of the two winced. “You were fucking bogus.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Sunghoon snapped, swatting Jake’s hand away with a scowl. “I was a loser.” When Jake nodded, affirming Sunghoon’s self-diss, he sent him a glare. “Well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Nothing, bro. Just move on and stop being such a dick.” Jake shrugged, walking away with his nose still buried in his book, leaving Sunghoon to think. Did he really care if you didn’t like him anymore? Would it be so bad for you to continue to ignore him?

The answer was yes. Undeniably so, because he despised you, and it only brought him more joy to see you struggle. Sunghoon liked being catered to, and you had just taken away his greatest pleasure.

The game was on.

“Jake, it’s simple.”

“No, it’s not.” Jake rubbed his forehead frustratedly as you attempted to explain the permutation formula to him for the fortieth time that day. He was supposed to be good at math, at least that’s what Jay said, and Jay was almost always right. However, you realized after a few tutoring sessions that Jake was a bit less attentive in math class as his friend made him out to be. “Why is there an exclamation point?”

“The exclamation point is to demonstrate how you’re supposed to multiply the number by each number following it, consecutively.” Jake looked like you had just told him to grow wings and fly, and you took the paper from his hand with a small giggle. “Jesus, Jake. You look like you got three hours of sleep last night and your dog shit in your cereal.” He let out a chuckle.

“You’ve got half of that statement spot on.”

“I’m going to assume it’s the former.” you said playfully.

“You got it.” he sighed a second time.

“Wanna talk about it?” He huffed, like the mere memory of his stressors were enough to upset him even when they weren’t present.

“It’s nothing…” You knew it wasn’t nothing. “It’s just Sunghoon.”

Bingo.

“He’s so oblivious sometimes.” Jake said exasperatedly. “Although, most times I’m pretty sure he’s being dense on purpose.” You stared at him blankly and he rested his chin on his palm. “He’s so stubborn. I always tell him to just let things go, to move on, but he never listens.” You didn’t need an explanation to understand what he was talking about. “I don’t know. He’s just felt so negative recently. Especially today.”

“What’s so different about today?” you asked, elated that he was frustrated at your indifference, which wasn’t indifference at all judging by how much you cared.

“Nothing, for most of us.” the Aussie shrugged. “I suppose he’s just feeling a bit abandoned.” You raised an eyebrow, and Jake seemed to notice his misstep. “T-that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Sure.” you snorted, pulling the sheet of paper you were supposed to be attentively solving into your lap, flipping through your binder for the notes.

“Are you free on Saturday night?” Your eyebrows practically flew to your hairline.

“Depends on who’s asking, and why.”

“Yeonjun’s throwing a party.” You were very well aware of Choi Yeonjun, a freshman at Hybe University. Even after finally graduating a few months ago, his parties were a must for the top tier of Decelis’ elite students; namely the popular kids. You didn’t often frequent parties, but Heeseung and Yeonjun were quite close friends. You had never missed one of his parties, and you didn’t plan to break that record.

“I wasn’t aware.” you picked up a pencil and began scrawling, eyes on your lap.

“It’s a smaller thing than usual. Just some friends, and friends of friends. Maybe a few friends of friends of friends.” You allowed a smile to pass over your lips, and Jake smiled in success. “So you’ll come?”

“I’ve never missed a Choi party.” you shut your notebook and passed the completed homework back to its owner. “I’ll give you the answers, just for today.”

“You’re the best, y/n.” Jake grinned as you stood, holding your binder to your chest, smiling in response.

“I know. Oh, and Jake?” he tilted his head as you removed a green lollipop from the pocket of your pleated skirt, sliding it across the table until it came to a stop just before his hands. “Give this to Sunghoon.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Park Sunghoon was absolutely fuming.

Typically, when school was over, he’d come home, collapse on his bed, write down the lollipop of the day, and then firmly put you out of his mind. But today, for the first time, he found himself unable to do any of those things. He sat on his bed, staring at his wall silently. He was in a haze. He needed a distraction, asap.

When the doorbell rang, he ran downstairs in record time.

“Hit the brakes.” his little sister snapped as he dashed to the door, pulling it open, excited even to see the mailman. He was surprised to see his best friend on the other side, who gave him a sideways look.

“Your scowl is freaking me out.” Jake said, hands in his pockets as he strolled inside. Sunghoon closed the door behind him.

“Get used to it.” Sunghoon replied petulantly, and the two boys walked back up the stairs to Sunghoon’s room. “What brings you to my part of town?”

“I’ve got news.” Jake said, flopping down onto Sunghoon’s bed with a smug expression on his pretty face. “Oh, but before I forget.” Jake reached into the pocket of his blue jeans, removing a spherical object and tossing it in Sunghoon’s direction. The younger boy caught it, his face brightening subconsciously.

“Finally,” he rolled his eyes, unwrapping the lollipop and tucking it into the side of his mouth, sucking on it thoughtfully.

“As I was saying I-” Sunghoon ignored Jake’s ramblings, ducking under his bed and reaching for the green notebook, rifling through the mess under his bed frame. Typically, he’d be too embarrassed to do this in front of company, but he couldn’t find it within him to care. “Did you hear about Yeonjun’s party this weekend?” Sunghoon ignored him, removing the lollipop from his mouth and shoving it towards Jake.

“Do you think this smells like apple?” he asked, and Jake swatted his hand away.

“Did you hear anything I just said? And I’m not putting my face anywhere near something that’s been in your mouth.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes again, turning his attention back to his notebook as Jake stared at him. “Are you even listening?”

“I’m listening.” Sunghoon waved him off, but Jake could swear he heard him muttering fruits under his breath.

“Yeonjun’s having a party this weekend.” he repeated, and Sunghoon looked at him blankly, finally putting his pen down.

“So what?” he scoffed. “You’ve never wanted to go to one of those parties before. They don’t want people like us there.” Jake narrowed his eyes.

“People like us? They’re fine with me, you’re the one they have a problem with.” Jake said, pressing his pointer finger into Sunghoon’s chest while the latter frowned. “In fact, I happen to have an invitation, considering me and Heeseung are friends.”

“I don’t want to go to any party that Heeseung is going to.” Sunghoon refused childishly, and Jake kissed his teeth.

“I don’t get what your issue with Heeseung is. Hating y/n was bad enough, but Heeseung is especially innocent.” Jake shook his head when his best friend opened his mouth to protest, slapping his hand over his mouth before he got the chance. “I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna hear it.” Sunghoon remained silent.

The two boys sat quietly for a moment, just looking at each other, both as stubborn as the next. Jake broke the silence, sighing exhaustedly.

“Will you just do this one thing for me? Please?” Sunghoon pursed his lips. On one hand, he hated partying. He wanted nothing to do with it. But on the other hand, Jake Sim was his best friend, and he loved this boy more than he loved himself. And he had been a pretty shitty friend recently.

And so, the boy with iron resolve, and an even stronger temper, nodded his head.

“Fine, but seriously, just this once.” he said, wagging his finger when Jake’s face broke out into an enormous smile as he leapt up from the bed. “Never again, okay?”

“Pinky promise!” Jake said, running out the door and down the stairs, slamming the front door behind him as Sunghoon shook his head.

What had he gotten himself into?

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 - chapter iii.

Park Sunghoon had a confession. It was one that he hadn’t told anybody. Not his family, not his friends, not even Jake, who he told nearly everything. No, this was a true secret. One that was bursting at the seams, that he desperately wanted to confess.

You were his first love.

Well, he assumed you were. He had no idea what love was; he was only fourteen at the time. But it felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest when you didn’t meet his gaze, and it felt like he was on cloud nine when he spotted you staring.

Sunghoon wasn’t one to make many friends. He wasn’t a social creature. He couldn’t say that was how he liked it, because he wasn’t necessarily sure that was true. He didn’t know if he liked to be alone, or if that was just how it had always been. But that changed when he met you.

For once, he found himself wanting to be around someone. The minute he laid eyes on you, he fell head over heels. You were everything he wasn’t. He knew he was in love with you when a junior tried shoving Jake into a locker and you punched him in the face. Even Sunghoon didn’t have the courage to stand up for Jake like that.

Sunghoon admired everything about you, but he knew you could never care about him. You were president of the student council, head of the party planning committee, photographer of the yearbook club, and the school newspaper’s best journalist. You tutored, you played multiple instruments. You liked being around people. You were brave and righteous. You were everything he wished he was. Why would you like him? He was just a loser who skipped class to skate and wished he had a little more courage.

But sometimes, he saw a little glimmer of hope for the two of you. When you came to his soccer game and only cheered for him, when you lent him your favorite pencil, when you left a note on his desk saying you liked his diorama the best. Sometimes he even thought that he could be with you if he finally followed his heart.

The only issue? Lee Heeseung.

Captain of the varsity rugby team, runner up for valedictorian, king bee of the school. He was loved by everyone. He had more friends than he could count, and the same for his admirers. When he wanted something, he got it. Sunghoon supposed you counted for that as well. It was obvious that he had a crush on you. Everyone knew you and Heeseung would date eventually, even Sunghoon.

Sunghoon had never fought for anything in his life, but for once, he was willing to fight for you. Until something happened that changed his perspective of you completely, something that made him despise you so much, he could barely contain it. Nobody knew what changed, but one day, Sunghoon dedicated his life to hating you.

You had no idea why.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Jungwon thought he could find out something about your past with Sunghoon if he sleuthed hard enough, but he was finding it more difficult than imagined.

He had checked the records in the principal's office —with the cover story that he was doing an investigative report— three times over, and he had yielded nothing. He asked nearly everyone he knew for any kind of background information. He even checked with the newspaper department, hoping they had some kind of trashy gossip if nothing else. Most of what he heard was entirely useless, consisting of people trash talking Sunghoon and hyping you up entirely too much. Jungwon thought they’d reconsider their words after witnessing you on a bad day.

He sighed frustratedly, collapsing into the principal’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk. Absolutely nothing.

He cocked his head when the door unlatched, slowly creaking open no more than an inch or two. A sneakered foot snuck its way inside, the rest of the intruder following, letting out a yelp when he saw Jungwon sitting skeptically in the center of the room.

“What are you doing here?” Jake said, a hand on his chest as he exhaled rapidly.

“What are you doing here?” Jungwon repeated his question back at him. Jake and Jungwon were mostly ambivalent towards each other, but there was always some distaste. After all, they were the best friends of mortal enemies.

“I…” Jake stared at him blankly. “I’m checking the records.”

“What a coincidence. So am I.” The two boys sized each other up, wondering if they might be there for the same reason.

There was no way.

“How’d you get in?” Jake said after a beat.

“Front door.” Jungwon replied, and the older boy frowned.

“Yeah, I gathered that. I mean, what did you tell administration to get in here?”

“I told them, ‘I want to check the school records.’” Jake shook his head, reaching for the desk containing the files of all the information on every student.

“Are you kidding me? Administration would rather die than let me in here.” Jake sorted through the files. He paused, frowned, then thumbed back and forth for a moment before straightening up and crossing his arms. His eyes widened when he saw the missing file he sought splayed out on the desk, just underneath Jungwon's shoes. “Why were you looking at Sunghoon’s personal file?” Jake said with an accusatory tone, and Jungwon paled, snatching it off the desk and tucking it away into his jacket.

“You’re imagining things.” he said quickly, and Jake rolled his eyes, turning back to the file cabinet. He removed your file, looking at Jungwon pointedly.

“Are you here for the same reason I am?” he asked. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they were both certain they had the same goal.

Jungwon nodded slowly. “I think so, yeah.”

“You want to find out what happened with Sunghoon and y/n, don’t you?” Jake asked, and Jungwon averted his eyes sheepishly. There was a moment of silence before the two boys broke into laughter. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Jungwon smiled, crossing his arms. “Let’s work together.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Sunghoon was having a horrible day.

Most of Sunghoon’s days were below average, simply because he didn’t often feel like having fun. But that day, he had woken up with a sinking feeling in his stomach and a furrow between his brows. That day was going to be a horrible day, and he knew it even at 6:45 am when the snooze button on his alarm stopped working.

He got to school with no bad occurrences, almost forgetting what was making him so upset. But when he saw you and Lee Heeseung, his lips on your neck, he suddenly remembered.

It gave him momentarily relief when he recalled the apple sucker from yesterday, but when he caught himself smiling, his mood only soured further.

“Morning, sunshine!” Jake chirped, attacking from behind and ruffling Sunghoon’s hair cheerily. Sunghoon glanced back to give him a glare, attempting to repair the damage Jake had done to his hairdo.

“You seem awfully jolly this morning,” he said gruffly.

“I don’t know. Something good is in the air this morning.” Jake hummed, hands in his pockets and a significant spring in his step.

He couldn’t very well admit that he was orchestrating an entire plan to get you and Sunghoon alone together so you’d finally resolve your issues. And he definitely couldn’t mention that he was plotting in cahoots with your best friend.

“Yeah, right.” Sunghoon scoffed.

“I’m assuming that —once again— you’ve chosen to have a bad attitude today?” Jake asked rhetorically. He already knew the answer. He knew his best friend well enough to decipher when he was upset, although it was easy enough that anyone could probably tell; Sunghoon was in an awful mood on most days.

“It’s not something I choose.” Sunghoon scoffed, still messing with his hair.

“Sure it isn’t.” Jake said sardonically, punching him in the shoulder as Sunghoon glared, rubbing the sore area. “Don’t be a- oh hey!” Sunghoon whirled around at his best friend’s sudden topic switch to see you dashing past. “Hey, did you do the chemistry homework last night?”

“Of course I did.” you scoffed. “I’m assuming you didn’t?”

“Clearly you know me well. No chance I could get the notes off of you?”

“No chance, sorry Jake.” you laughed like the tinkling of bells. “But who knows, I might pass you the answer sheet while the teacher isn’t looking.”

“You’re the best!” he grinned as you saluted playfully. Your joyous facade faded for a moment when your gaze locked with Sunghoon’s briefly. You searched his face for any sign that he had received your gift, but his stoic glare firmly remained. You held back the urge to roll your eyes, turning on your heel.

Your lack of a response only made Sunghoon more upset. He was scowling hotly, so much so, that it was certain you could fry an egg on his head.

“She’s such a pretender. Can you fucking believe that?” You heard him scoff just before you left, an accusatory hand pointing in your direction. Jake cocked his head, and Sunghoon’s scowl deepened. “She didn’t even acknowledge that I was here!”

“Why should she?” Jake laughed, tucking his hands into his pockets and walking away as Sunghoon froze on the spot, practically shaking with rage.

Oh, you were going to regret ignoring him.

It almost made Sunghoon sick to think about how much he used to like you.

He thought of all the times he had written your name in his notebook surrounded by hearts and little angel wings. All the times he wished he could bring you flowers, or tell you how he felt. All the times he watched Heeseung sweep you off your feet, and felt bitter resent in his throat. For the first time in his miserable 14 years, he was certain he was in love. It was a bit far-fetched, considering he had only spoken to you once or twice. He didn’t know if he had ever had a full conversation with you.

What was it all for? Why did the girl he loved have to hurt him so bad?

It made him think that life wasn’t very fair. That people were egocentric, they didn’t consider others feelings. He was pathetic, he knew that. He should let it go, forget about what happened between the two of you and move on. He had his own life, you had yours. His existence shouldn’t center around the hatred of another human being.

Maybe hating you was an escape. Maybe he hated you because he couldn’t handle the thought of loving you anymore.

The line between hate and love was very fine. Even he knew that.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

You really didn’t want to go to this party. The more you thought about it, the more you felt sick to your stomach.

After the week you had, drinking with a bunch of teenagers sounded like the last thing you wanted to do. Even being around your friends and boyfriend sounded deeply unappealing; for the first time you could remember, you just wanted to be alone. But you knew this was important to your clique, and so you sucked it up, brushing the dust off the front of your party dress and turning around to your friends.

Ningning and Karina sat on the bed, on their phones. Ningning was dressed in an orange tube top dress, Karina wearing an identical one in purple. Neither of them noticed you until you cleared your throat, and they fawned over your dress.

They were your friends, supposedly. You liked them well enough, and they seemed to like you the same. They were sweet girls, but you didn’t really connect. The only reason you were friends was because you were popular, and so were they. You were living in a dog-eat-dog world, where popular girls became friends with each other to avoid making enemies. You wished it wasn’t like that, and you had a feeling they did too.

Yeonjun walked into the room with a big, cheesy grin on his face, toting your boyfriend behind him. Further back were Beomgyu, Huening Kai, Taehyun, and Soobin, the rest of your boyfriend's older friends. See also: people you didn’t really connect with.

“Are you girls ready?” Yeonjun asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the group crowded in. Heeseung came from the back of the procession to take your hands, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. You sighed as the others engaged in conversation.

Heeseung frowned. “You okay? You usually love Yeonjun’s parties.” You brushed some stray hair out of your face and painted on a smile.

“I’m fine, Hee. Thanks for looking out for me.” you said. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, adjusting your necklace so the clasp was aligned with the nape of your neck.

“Anytime you wanna leave, just say the word. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” You held his hand with a smile.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Just have fun.” you ushered him towards his friends, and he gave you a brief look before he went to join them. The crowd filed out of the bedroom and into the living room, ready to party.

You sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment and taking a deep breath to relax yourself. You had no idea why you were so nervous. You had done this a million times around. You knew the party scene like the back of your hand, it was the life you had been living for the past four years.

You stared at the pink dress you were wearing. It was your favorite dress, yet somehow it didn’t feel good anymore. The lamp from the ceiling shone on your necklace, the bright, diamond letter H catching the light.

Usually, you tried not to let Sunghoon get to you. He was just a jealous, rude, idiot who wanted to bring you down for no reason. But today, his words reverberated in your head, ringing painfully, no matter how hard you tried to get them out.

She’s such a pretender.

It made you wonder, was he right? Were you putting on a show for everyone but you? You had played your role so well, you had almost fooled yourself.

Sometimes you got tired of being perfect. You got tired of keeping up your facade all the time. You almost lost yourself in the process.

Maybe Sunghoon was right. Maybe you were a pretender. Maybe hating you meant that he was the only one who really understood you.

And maybe that was a good enough reason to hate him a little less.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 - chapter iv.

“For the record, I am not happy about this.” Sunghoon said for what must’ve been the millionth time that night. Jake had forced him into a button up and combed his hair, in comparison to his usual overgrown bangs and old band tee. He cleaned up nice, but the boy’s foul expression was enough to drive off any prospective attention.

“Tough luck.” Jake said, adjusting his chain as he smiled charmingly at himself in the mirror. “It’s one party. You’ll be fine.” Sunghoon continued to grumble.

He wasn’t used to seeing himself done up nicely. He felt too vulnerable without his long bangs hiding his eyes and a hoodie to cover himself up. It didn’t feel right to see himself fixed up like this, but he kept telling himself that it was only once, for Jake.

Jake looked down at the watch on his wrist, a string of curses leaving his lips.

“Shit, Sunghoon, we gotta go. We’re late.” he grabbed his jacket off the coat rack, dashing out the door while Sunghoon dragged his feet behind him.

“We’re fashionably late.” the younger boy corrected, Jake turning around to give him an impatient look, nodding his head towards his car.

“We’re gonna miss all the fun, c’mon.” Sunghoon frowned.

“What a shame.” he mumbled under his breath, following his best friend into the car and praying that this night would go well, and without conflict.

That was wishful thinking.

Sunghoon instantly knew he was right when they pulled up into Yeonjun’s driveway. He could hear the music pumping from inside the house, so loud it made his ears ache. He could see the crowds of people through the enormous glass windows, and grimaced at the idea of being among the masses of sweaty bodies. Jake however, seemed delighted, and so Sunghoon tried to put a smile on his face.

Jake turned off the ignition, leaning over to his best friend and studying the blank look on his face. “Ready?” he asked, and Sunghoon nodded with an exasperated sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and slamming the car door behind him. Jake rolled his eyes.

“This is going to be a nightmare.” Sunghoon said, unable to hold back a quip. Jake patted him on the shoulder, ringing the doorbell with a grin.

“Let’s see if you can last the whole night.”

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

It had only been an hour and your head was already pounding.

All the lights felt too bright, the music was too loud, and too many people were trying to talk to you. After having your crisis of self merely 60 minutes previous, you were definitely not in the mood to make conversation with anyone. You downed your third vodka soda of the night and felt everything get a little hazier. You were satisfied when the sound got a little quieter and the lights became less harsh.

Toting your fourth drink in hand, you dropped down to the couch. Most people were busy dancing, thank God, and the only people on the couch was a girl vomiting in Yeonjun’s best porcelain vase and her friend coaxing it out of her. You didn’t mind it too much. At this point, you were craving some humanity.

You felt a little at ease when Jay sat beside you, smiling in greeting. Jay was pretty much the only one of Heeseung’s friends whom you actually liked.

“How’s the night going?” you asked, sipping on the red cup in your hand.

“It’s alright.” he said, his words slurred as he rubbed his nose. It was clear that he had more than a few drinks, probably a couple past his capacity. “Your friend- what’s her name? Tried talking to me earlier.” You didn’t bother to inquire. “Ning? Ningning?” he laughed to himself. He was obviously drunk, so you took another sip and ignored his ramblings. Even the most sensible of people were insufferable to you at the moment.

He sniffled briefly, and you studied his face. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he poked his tongue into the flesh of his left cheek thoughtfully.

“Hey,” he suddenly said, looking at you very seriously. “I’m really sorry about that Sunghoon thing, y’know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and it’s really been bothering me.” You furrowed your brows.

“What Sunghoon thing?” you said, and his jaw dropped open, laughing drunkenly as he covered his mouth. Clearly he had said something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Oops, did Heeseung never tell you?” he said, trying to backtrack. “Oh, we just fucked with Sunghoon a little in sophomore year. You know, back before you and Heeseung started dating.” An awful feeling crept into your insides as you stared at him relentlessly until he finally continued. “We, uh, we just wrote him a letter or something like that.”

“What did it say?” you demanded.

“Oh, you know.” he said for the thousandth time, and you were beginning to lose your patience. He took a swig of your drink to loosen his tongue. Jay knew he shouldn’t be the one to tell you about this, but his conscience was pressing him to continue, and so he did. “We just said some mean stuff, called him a freak. Told him to stay away from you. It was Heeseung’s idea, really.”

You felt a pit in your stomach. You felt so sick, you didn’t even have the capacity to register the anger bubbling up in your throat. Why would your boyfriend do this? What had Sunghoon ever done to him?

You didn’t even notice that you were defending Sunghoon over Heeseung.

“Why would you do that?” you asked blankly, and Jay stood up quickly, stumbling drunkenly as he almost lost his balance. He sensed that he said something he shouldn’t, and if he kept drunkenly blabbering, Heeseung would definitely kick his ass for it sooner or later.

“Uh, you should ask Heeseung about t-this.” he stuttered, evading before you got angry. He had never seen you upset before. Nobody had, with the exception of one.

You stood from the couch, downing the remainder of your drink, feeling the alcohol leave a burning trail down your throat before you tossed the cup to the side.

You had to find your boyfriend.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Dear Sunghoon,

I know you have a crush on me. I’m sorry to say this, but I really don’t reciprocate your feelings. To be honest, I find it disgusting that you think you even have a chance with me.

Maybe you haven’t realized, but we come from completely different worlds. People actually like me. You might not know what that feels like, but it’s actually pretty nice to be liked. I get good grades, I make friends, I do the work. Something you wouldn’t know much about. You’re nothing compared to me. You have no idea what it’s like to be admired, or to have friends. Maybe that’s because you’re always alone, daydreaming like a fucking loser.

I could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.

Sincerely, y/n.

P.S. I’m in love with Lee Heeseung.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Jake, that bastard, had absolutely disappeared. He had left Sunghoon stranded in a house full of strangers. And not just any house; the house of the man he disliked nearly the most. Well, after you, then Heeseung, then Jungwon… you get the point.

Sunghoon wasn’t a big drinker, but he downed any alcohol he could get his hands on. His fourth shot of vodka left a fierce burning in his throat, and he tried his best to ignore it. Alcohol was just about the only thing that could make him feel a little less alienated in a place full of people that despised him. With every sideways glance, even an admiring or curious one, he felt more and more like running away. But he promised to stick around for the night, and he was a man of his word. Most of the time, at least.

He felt his eyes almost roll into the back of his head when Lee Heeseung approached him, toting one of his goons behind him.

“Can I help you?” Sunghoon said from behind the rim of his cup, brows raised skeptically. Heeseung had a foul look on his face, one that Sunghoon hadn’t really seen before. He seemed to be a jolly guy most of the time.

“What are you doing here?” he said, voice low.

“Sorry, I wasn’t informed that you were Yeonjun’s security guard. I’ll be on my way out, if need be.” Sunghoon said sardonically, and Heeseung’s scowl only deepened.

“I’m warning you, watch what you say to me.” Heeseung said, pointing so closely, his index finger nearly brushed his chest. “I think we both know you don’t belong here.”

“Wow, it seems like you’ve got an attitude problem. Not as innocent as everyone thinks, huh?” Sunghoon didn’t shy away from the contact, attempting to close the inch difference between their heights. It was a lot harder than it seemed. “Just like you little girlfriend.” he provoked, and Heeseung grabbed the front of his shirt, jaw pulsing.

“You watch what you saw about her.” Heeseung said through grit teeth. “You’re just jealous, and we all know it. She could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.”

I could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.

Sunghoon furrowed his brow. He tried his hardest to keep his lower lip from trembling. He couldn’t show that he was hurt, no matter what.

“I’m not afraid of you.” he said.

Heeseung scoffed. “You’re pretending.”

“I’m not the only one.” The two boys stood in silence for a beat.

Heeseung dropped Sunghoon’s shirt, adjusting his jacket with a glare. “Fuck you, Sunghoon. We come from different worlds, you have no idea what it’s like to be me.”

We come from completely different worlds.

You have no idea what it’s like to be admired.

With that, Heeseung was gone, his lackeys disappearing as well. And it was all coming back to Sunghoon, biting his lip furiously to distract from the burning in his eyes. He downed the rest of what was in his cup, wandering back to the kitchen.

Maybe he wasn’t welcome here, but he was going to drink them dry before he left.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

“I have a surprise for you!” Jungwon waved his arms excitedly. You stared at him, completely unamused. Your best friend definitely had the worst timing ever.

“I’m a little busy.” you said, trying to push past him to no avail. You didn’t feel like explaining your situation, not until after you talked to your boyfriend.

“It’s really important,” Jungwon insisted, pressing his hands to the small of your back and steering you towards the staircase. You tried to squirm out of his grip but gave up about halfway through. You would humor Jungwon and see his stupid surprise, then you’d find Heeseung and have a serious conversation.

“Okay, right this way,” Jungwon mumbled, pushing you into a spare guest bedroom. “Wait here for just a moment, I need to get something ready.”

“How long is this going to take?” you said exasperatedly, flopping down onto the bed and crossing your arms.

“Just a minute!” he yelled before slamming the door, dashing away.

As he walked into the corridor, he high fived a certain blond haired boy, Jake rushing by to find his respective best friend.

“Some guy upstairs said he was looking for you.” Jake said, jabbing his thumb at the staircase. Sunghoon’s brows knitted, looking up skeptically before taking another swig of the drink in his hand.

“Me? Was it Heeseung?” Jake shrugged ambiguously.

“Don’t know. He was walking real fast, muttering your name. I think he went into one of the rooms upstairs.” Sunghoon put down his cup, rolling his eyes and heading quickly to the staircase. Jake grinned successfully, trailing behind the boy as he muttered strings of profanities and insults.

“What the fuck does he want…” Sunghoon grumbled, opening the first door he saw when he went upstairs, shutting it in exasperation when a couple screamed, their intimacy interrupted. Jake grimaced; Sunghoon seemed unaffected. He continued this with three more doors, until he finally reached one with a white frame and a silver handle, one with squeaky hinges, one that locked from the outside.

“Where is he-” Jake shoved the boy with all his might, slamming the door behind him as his best friend yelped, pounding on the door. Jungwon came running from around the corner, diving for the doorknob with a key in hand, turning it firmly in the lock. No matter how much Sunghoon protested, it was futile.

“Nice one.” Jake said, high fiving the younger boy as the two proudly celebrated their success. They stared at the door until Sunghoon’s protests went quiet, and the culprits were left with an awkward silence as they registered their actions.

“...We did a good thing, right?” Jungwon asked unsurely. “...Yeah. Definitely.”

“Oh, fucking excellent. God, this night couldn’t get any worse.” Sunghoon said immediately upon noticing your presence. He huffed, pacing around the room while you stared at him, eyes watery, biting down on your lip hard. Sunghoon was filled with so much rage, he was unable to speak, and the two of you sat in silence for a brief second before you got to your feet, walking straight up to him and slapping him in the face.

“I am so fucking mad at you!” you yelled, shocking both of you.

“Me? What could I have possibly done to make you mad at me?” Sunghoon shouted incredulously, pressing his hand to his hot cheek, red blooming under his skin.

“This whole rivalry!” you said, gesturing vaguely. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” he asked irritatedly.

“About the letter!” Sunghoon paled. He had imagined this moment a hundred times over, and none of those hypotheticals went like this. He simply couldn’t have this conversation with you, it was too painful. It was in the past.

“Why should I? You’re the one that wrote it.” he said frustratedly.

“Jeez, you’re so fucking stupid. I never would have done that to you. I wouldn’t say any of that mean shit to you. I didn’t write that letter!”

He scoffed, “Oh yeah, then who did?”

“Heeseung did, Sunghoon.” He paused for a moment, not sure what to say.

You’re just jealous, and we all know it.

She could never love someone like you, you’re a freak.

We come from completely different worlds.

You have no idea what it’s like to be me.

Heeseungs hurtful words rang around his head, cutting into his skin like hot knives. It was impossible. You wrote the letter. Heeseung wouldn’t have done that.

“Why would he do that?” you stared at him, unbelieving at how oblivious he was.

“Because I was in love with you, obviously!”

It felt like Sunghoon’s heart was on fire. The two of you stared at each other in silence for what felt like centuries, Sunghoon’s head spinning. Suddenly, everything was much too real for him to take in. His rising body temperature, the sweet lilt of your voice, the way you looked at him through your lashes.

“What?” he questioned blankly, hardly even registering what you were saying. He felt dizzy. “You were in love with me?”

“Well, it was freshman year. I was 14. Can you just shut the fuck up? I’m still mad at you.” you said, your cheeks went aflame with the realization of what you had just said.

He grinned. “You’re so dumb.”

“You’re so fucking annoying-” Suddenly, his lips crashed into yours.

He tangled his hands in your hair, knotting his left hand in your hair. You kissed him in return as he held your waist in his right hand, his teeth biting your lower lip. You both fought for dominance, staggering through the room until your back hit the wall, and you wrapped a leg around his waist as he cursed under his breath. It was a kiss of hatred, but at the same time, relief. His lips felt as though they were made to fit yours, fitting like a puzzle piece. You parted for a breath, but he pulled you back in hungrily.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” The two of you pulled away immediately as Jake cursed loudly, Jungwon behind him with a look on his face like you had just shot him. “What is wrong with you two? We wanted you to make up, not make out!”

“Get the fuck out!” Sunghoon shouted, running after his best friend and shoving him away, slamming the door behind them with a heavy exhalation. When he turned back to you, you were trying to hold back a giggle and failing miserably.

The two of you began to laugh, and Sunghoon dropped to the floor with a sigh, you doing the same and sidling up to him.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” you said, feeling intensely embarrassed.

“ Yeah, I bet you’ll give me herpes.” Sunghoon mocked, and you turned to him with a glare, and he held his hands up. “Old habits die hard. But I really am sorry I was mean to you. I didn’t know Heeseung wrote the letter.” You scowled at the reminder.

“Heeseung…” you said, rubbing your eyes. “Jesus. What am I gonna do about him?” Sunghoon didn’t reply, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully.

“Did you ever think I was a freak?” he asked suddenly. You frowned.

“Why would I think that?”

“I don’t know. I was always alone, always daydreaming. I wasn’t popular or anything. Didn’t you ever consider that you shouldn’t like someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” you snorted. “C’mon, don’t be full of yourself. You’re just a person. I could care less if you like to be alone, or if you daydream. So does everyone else, they’re just not brave enough to say it aloud.” Sunghoon smiled in relief, and he wanted nothing more than to press another hungry kiss to your lips. But he knew he needed to hold back. I mean, you had just gotten over your rivalry a couple minutes ago. He should probably give it some time before he starts kissing his ex-nemesis.

“You should probably go,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “I bet people are looking for you. And I think you might need to talk to your boyfriend.”

“Ex boyfriend, when I’m done with him.” you said, rolling your eyes and getting to your feet, bruising the dust off of your dress. You held out a hand to assist Sunghoon in getting up, and he took it with a smile. You walked, turning back when he didn’t follow you. “C’mon. Let’s show Heeseung that we’re not enemies anymore.”

He couldn’t hold back his grin.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

You felt like the room quaked when you walked downstairs with Sunghoon.

The music didn’t stop, but it almost seemed like everything went silent, hundreds of pairs of eyes landing on the two of you immediately, narrowed, criticizing. Sunghoon was sweating at the judgment, but you strode confidently, not paying any attention to their stares. And like magic, everyone began to turn around and mind their own business. You sent Sunghoon a wink.

“Do anything with confidence, and people won’t give a shit.” you said. Sunghoon grinned. He knew he had a lot to learn from you. The two of you slid through the bodies, navigating your way through until you spotted him from across the room.

Lee Heeseung. The man you called the love of your life just a few hours ago. You wonder if you still loved him after what happened.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” Sunghoon said, tilting his head towards the door.

“See you later, Sunghoon. Don’t be a stranger.” you said, before turning on your heel and marching away. He shook his head at your retreating figure, smiling with a warm blush on his cheeks before he made his exit.

“Heeseung!” you yelled across the room, attempting to pass by the hordes of drunks to get to your boyfriend. Him and his friends were playing a rowdy game of beer pong, and he watched you inquisitively with a ball in hand. “We need to talk.”

“About what, baby?” he asked, tossing the ball and scoring with ease, Yeonjun and Beomgyu cheering behind him and chanting his name.

“Heeseung.” you said his name coldly, and he grew serious within an instant.

“Yeonjun, take my place.” he said, slapping his friend on the back as the boy raised his brow, the group watching you with curiosity as you walked away.

You led Heeseung to the backyard, crossing your arms the minute you turned around to face him. He could tell you were serious as ever.

“What is it baby?” he said with concern, reaching for your arm, but you pulled away from him quickly. He only grew more worried.

“Heeseung, do you have anything to tell me?” you asked vaguely, and every bad thing he had done in his entire life ran through his head in an instant.

“No?” he said pathetically. “Y/n, will you just tell me what you want?”

“Why did you write Sunghoon that letter?” Heeseung paled. He didn’t think you would find out. Not this soon. “You said such hurtful things to him, why? And addressed from me?” You said, voice wobbling.

“Baby, let me explain-”

“You’re the reason Sunghoon hated me so much. I put up with his belittling for years because I thought I deserved it somehow. Just to find out it was you all along? What kind of fucked up person would do that?”

“How else was I supposed to get him away from you?”

“That’s not your decision to make, Heeseung.” you said coldly.

“Look, baby, that was all in the past. I’m really sorry, can’t we just look past it?”

“No, Heeseung, because you hurt an innocent person really badly. And that is always unforgivable.” you sighed, pinching the space between your brows.

“He doesn’t matter, y/n. I’m your boyfriend, not him!”

“Well, not anymore.” Both of you froze. Through the glass walls, the entirety of the party stared at the two of you, Decelis’ golden couple. Now destroyed.

“You’re breaking up with me,” Heeseung said slowly, in disbelief. “Over Park Sunghoon?” You stared at him for a moment, before steeling yourself.

“Yes. Yes I am.” And then you walked off, pushing past the shocked crowds with tears in your eyes, gunning it for the door and disappearing into the night.

Something was telling you to run after him.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

epilogue.

“She’s still at it?” Jake asked in disbelief. Just a moment previous, you had strode straight up to Sunghoon from your spot at the blackboard with the utmost confidence and placed a lollipop onto his lap. You didn’t even look into his eyes, just turning on your heel and returning to your duties.

He was beginning to get envious looks from his fellow classmates, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“S’pose so.” Sunghoon said, unwrapping the cellophane and popping the treat into his mouth with a satisfying suction sound. “Mm. At least she’s giving me good flavors these days.”

“It’s been three years. You’d think she’d stop by now.” Jake shook his head, tossing his notebooks and laptop into his backpack as the bell rang, dismissing class.

“She’ll never stop. She loves me.” Sunghoon grinned proudly, the stick of his lollipop protruding from the corner of his upturned mouth.

“Why doesn’t she ever bring me lollipops?” Sunghoon frowned, slapping Jake in the back with his notebook before shoving it into his duffel. “Ow! What?”

“She’s my girlfriend. She’s not allowed to give lollipops to anyone but me.” Sunghoon said, like it was obvious, walking to the front of the class with Jake in tow just behind him. “Besides, you don’t even like lollipops anyway.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

Even after a year of dating, you and Sunghoon were still up to your classic shenanigans. It was a wonder that the two of you were still together, considering how often you bickered. You were lucky that you loved each other more than enough to make up for the arguments.

“Hey, baby.” he said, striding up to your place at the front of the class and pressing a sloppy kiss onto your cheek. You wiped your cheek off with a playful scowl, before plucking the lollipop from Sunghoon’s mouth and putting it between your lips.

“Hey, Hoonie. Hey, Jake.” You reached for your boyfriend’s hand as the three of you walked out of class together. “How was practice, you two?”

“Mm, I’m tired.” Sunghoon said, pecking you as Jake rolled his eyes at your overt pda. “Jake’s been keeping me busy with training.”

“If you weren’t so shit, I wouldn’t have to train you all the time.” Jake ruffled the younger boy’s hair as he looked up at him with a scowl. After your debacle with Heeseung, Jake quit the rugby team, deciding he favored soccer. It turned out to be a good decision, as he was quite good at it, and you decided it must have been pure fate that gave him a scholarship to the same college you and Sunghoon were attending.

“Hey, I joined soccer way before you did. Have some respect for your seniors.” Sunghoon said, evading Jake’s hands as he reached to slap the younger boy, the two tussling as you watched with a smile, sucking on your lollipop. “Jesus, don’t you ever get tired of those two?” a weary voice said, sidling up to you as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. You turned to face Jungwon, his bangs matted to his forehead and his button up shirt nearly halfway undone.

“You’ve been sleeping during class?” you asked, humor in your tone as your best friend turned to you with a raised brow.

“How could you tell?” You didn’t answer. Sunghoon ran to you, a big grin on his face as he dragged Jake behind him in a headlock.

“Hey, Jungwon.” he said, reaching for a handshake that Jungwon didn’t reciprocate. He then reached for the stick dangling from your lips, removing it, kissing you softly, and then putting the sucker back in his own mouth.

“You guys are disgusting.” Jake said, voice muffled from under Sunghoon’s bicep.

“Cherry, again?” Jungwon said, watching the bright red sphere as it protruded slightly from Sunghoon’s mouth. “I should’ve known you were up to something when you ordered them in bulk.”

“What can I say? A tradition’s a tradition.” you grinned, taking Sunghoon’s hand as the four of you walked in a line. “A lollipop a day keeps Park Sunghoon away.” He looked at you with a snort, unable to hold back a smile.

“Did you just come up with that?” he asked, amused.

“I did.” you hummed, and he pressed a kiss to your nose, Jungwon and Jake groaning loudly in unison.

“We get it, you’re in love.”

“Enough already, it’s gross.” they whined, and the two of you laughed together, swinging your hands back and forth like a little swing between your sides.

Who knew you and your enemy would fall in love? You certainly couldn’t have predicted it. Turns out that college life had a lot of unexpected surprises in store. But while everything kept changing, there was one thing that always stayed the same.

Sunghoon’s heart always skipped a beat when you gave him a lollipop.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

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rachalixie · 6 months

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a/n: you've read you when minho gets hurt but get ready for a fun new concept of minho when you get hurt!!!!

if you thought that you turned into a mother hen when minho got hurt, the antithesis lives in the way minho would react when you were the one in pain. he’s calm and he teases but he somehow always knows exactly what to do, even before you yourself know what you want.

you weren’t particularly a clumsy person, but everyone has times where their feet refuse to work or they nick themselves in the neck with their hair straightener - or in your case now, when you take the biggest sip of your tea, forgetting that you had just made it and it was a near-boiling temperature. you have to resist the urge to spit it out, and it feels like fire working it’s way down your throat when your muscles finally cooperate enough for you to swallow the burning sip.

you must make a noise, because minho’s attention - which was previously trained on the way your cat was licking his paw - flips to you so fast you’re surprised you didn’t hear his neck crack. his eyes flicker all over your body, from your head to your fingers and down to your legs like he was looking for blood to be gushing out of you. he must see something in your expression because he melts a bit when he meets your eyes, scooting himself closer to you and letting you lean into his body.

“what happened, mine?” he says, words curled up with fondness.

“i burnt my tongue,” your say with a wince, the shape of the letters sending pings of pain across your tongue. you glare heatedly at the cup of steaming tea you left on the table, sitting there in it’s false innocence. you stick your tongue out at him like a petulant child, the cold air from the room soothing the ache a little bit.

“let me see,” he cups your face in his hand, pulling you closer to him so he could get a look - you’re sure your tongue is ridiculously red, and the look on your face even more so. he peers down, his eyes crossing a bit and he looks so cute that you want to bite him. he smiles a bit, leaning up to press a kiss to your tongue, a quick thing that catches you off guard.

an unintelligible sound leaves your mouth, muffled by the way his fingers are still squeezing your cheeks and your tongue is still peeking out of your mouth.

“did i fix it?” he looks so pleased, like he truly believed that his kiss would heal your physical wounds. you don’t have the heart to tell him that your tongue is still stinging when you put it back into your mouth, but he has healed any distress you were feeling on the inside, so you just nod and snuggle into him, tea forgotten.

it was so silly, such a simple thing, but something about it made your heart want to burst out of your chest. god, you love him, with every fiber in your being. you love him for knowing you, love him for knowing that while coddling is what he needs, a distraction was the cure that would sooth your hurt in any circumstance.

later, you’d be pouty all day until he caved to your wide shiny eyes and went to buy you ice cream to soothe your tongue. later, he would spoon feed you and babble at you like you’re one of his kittens, later he would flutter kisses all over your face and tell you that you’re never allowed to be hurt when he’s around.

right now, you’re content to sit in his arms with a burning tongue as long as he’s there.

—

soft hours

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #lee know fluff #minho fluff #lee know imagines

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zhongrin · 1 year

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“you’re not going out like that.”

— you say with a pout and a glare.

or, you stop him before going out because of his clothes.

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, xiao, scaramouche, childe, diluc, pantalone

◇ tags ◇ modern!au, fluff, reader is not ‘controlling’ if that’s what you’re afraid of seeing

◇ a/n ◇ can you buy a zhongli irl off amazon or something i'm asking for a friend- /j

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli raises his eyebrows, questioning ambers seeking an explanation from you.

with a sigh, you stalk towards his side and pinch the thin material of his shirt, berating him nonstop over how the temperature has started to drop outside and how he’ll catch a cold if he doesn’t bundle up.

he lets you drag him back to the bedroom and smiles softly as you rummage through his coats and sweaters, all the while still lecturing him about the importance of his health now that you’re both getting older.

what you don’t know is that he does this purposefully so that you’ll fuss over him. call him whipped, but he adores seeing you care for him like a mother hen; he may trust your love in all its entirety, but he certainly doesn’t mind getting a reminder of it every now and then.

it’s the same reason why he leaves his tie a little crooked every morning: just so you could scold him for how he’s gotten lousy ever since you both got married. he would always chuckle and apologize, but inwardly he just can’t help it; surely all husbands want to be spoiled by their lovely spouse?

childe giggles and winks towards you before gesturing to his outfit with a flair as if he’s in a fashion show model which to be fair he kinda looks the part.

“awh, why not? don’t you want to show off how good this boyfriend of yours look?”

“you mean announce to the whole world that i’m dating a fuckboy? no thanks.”

the brunette pouts at the half-serious, half-joking expression on your face and positions his hands on his hips like a petulant child(e), “oh, i’m sorry that i’m hot and i’m unashamed of it! besides, what can they do? grope me?”

you roll your eyes and slip your hands through the wide gap by the sides of his clothes to grab onto his chest.

childe freezes like deer in headlights, but regains his composure quickly; in a blink, he gives you a playful grin, but before he can utter anything scandalous, you pull him into a kiss and uses the element of surprise to steal his breath away.

and when your boyfriend ends up sprawled under you on the couch fifteen minutes later, you don’t miss the winning smile and happy wrinkle of skin spread across his freckled cheeks.

honestly, he could’ve just told you (you know, like a normal person) if he didn’t actually want to go out, instead of always pulling stunts like this.

kunikuzushi stares at you with half his mouth open, clearly surprised and offended at your statement and the insults you blatantly threw his way right after.

what do you mean he looks like a sleazebag? sure, it’s a hoodie from yesterday(’s yesterday), but it looks fine! it smells bearable! it’s comfy! he’s too lazy to change out of it! not when it’s just a trip down to the nearby cafe!

archons, he’s just a common engineer who builds robots, not some high-strung profile in some fancy mafia organization… is what he insists, and he continues to groan and bemoans his fate even as you brought a change of clothes for him.

he might as well be a cat with how he bristles at your threat of running a bath for him, but he quietens when you double the threat with an offer to ‘scrub his poor scalp clean’.

“….. do it then,” he challenges, crossing his arms like a true brat™️, although his eyes are shining with excitement.

you two end up getting takeouts that night.

xiao pauses from putting on his watch and looks at you quizzically.

why would a dress shirt and slacks be an unacceptable fashion choice? last he checked, you were both just going to visit that favorite restaurant of yours.

the man blinks owlishly at the adorable way you stomp your feet and points to the accessories you’re wearing. he cracks a momentary smile when he recognizes them as the ones he bought for you last week; it’s just as he imagined, they look lovely on you. however, the said quirk of his lips disappears as you tell him that he’s forgotten to wear his matching ones even though he had promised to.

“ah,” he scratches his cheek, “i forgot… tsk, alright, alright, i’ll go change. this outfit won’t work with those colors, let me just-”

you end up late to your reservation and were unable to get a table, but seeing the content smile on your pretty lips when you saw the ‘date night!’ selfie you took on the fast food parking lot in his car, he thinks it’s all worth it.

your smile is always worth it.

“why not-”

“you’re a fashion disaster!”

diluc freezes and honestly if it was anyone else he would have ignored them and stormed off in embarrassment.

but this was you. you matter. your opinions matter. he doesn’t want to embarrass you.

“is… is it that bad?” he asks with a blush on his face as you throw his old coat onto the bed and unbuttons the plain shirt he always defaults to wearing.

your rich but struggling-with-fashion boyfriend watches and listens, as silent as a timid bunny, as you tell him the latest trend and the ‘boyfriend look’ or whatever it was called. he's just helplessly nodding and obeying as you hand him the change of clothes, hoping that will lessen the frown between your brows.

“is this a… bracelet?”

“it’s a choker, luc.”

“but they’re so short.”

“it’s supposed to rest around your throat, dear.”

“oh.”

he’s not sure whether he looks okay or not, but judging from adelinde’s messages bombarding his phone that night, gushing about how proud she is to ‘see that the young master has grown to be able to comprehend fashion trends’ after seeing your instagram stories, he thinks he should just ask you to pick his clothes from now own.

when you tell him he looks like he’s about to brave the cold of the mountains in dragonspine, pantalone hums and tilts his head in thought.

perhaps the coat was too much, he agrees as he discards the thick materials. but you huff and press him to remove his gloves and overcoat, and while he understands that he might have gone overboard in dressing up, given how he’s used to the biting cold of snezhnaya’s freezing climates, he can’t help but smirk at the way you’re hurriedly unbuttoning his clothes.

“my, you look quite desperate for me, sweetheart. are you sure you wish to go out tonight? if you'd like, i can always tell them to send the chef over so we can-”

he chuckles when you hit his chest playfully and lets you modify his clothing as you see fit.

well, no matter. if he gets cold he can always buy a coat outside….

... he still ends up sweating like crazy and he does not understand how you can be perfectly fine in this horrendous heat.

calm down pantalone it’s only like 34 degrees celcius.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader

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hanafubukki · 2 months

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Summary: Malleus offers you a happy ending.

[Can be seen as Lilia’s route/sequel to this fic]

“Take my hand YN, and I’ll make your happiest dream come true.”

You were frozen. It was tempting, especially now after seeing the hell Lilia went through. Your heart yearned to reach out and take his hand, but your mind screamed otherwise.

But the look gentle look in Malleus’ eyes-

“I-”

A hand concealed your vision before you were pulled backwards into someone, the familiar scent had you relaxing.

“What’s this? You’re trying to steal My YN away? What a petulant boy I raised.”

“I merely offered what will bring them happiness.”

“That’s my job. Tsk tsk I can’t believe I have to worry about one of you trying to steal them away from me. It seems I have to teach you a lesson still.”

“HAHAHA, you think you can take me on?”

“Of course I can! Who do you take me for? Now get ready!…and RUN!”

A hand pulled you away from the group as a malicious laugh echoed.

The calm after dealing with Malleus’ OB was very much needed. Your body aches in places you didn’t think possible, especially given that you were asleep most of Malleus’ blot.

But that was done, and the family was still healing. At least everyone was on the same page now. Lilia understood how much he mattered and his sons were able to express themselves to him.

A few strings were pulled and Lilia was allowed to stay, you are pretty sure that Malleus threatened the Headmaster or the Queen.

Either way, he wasn’t going anywhere which you were grateful for.

“Hot chocolate?”

You looked at the cup Lilia offered you.

You gave him a look, “Who made it?”

Lilia gave you a deadpan look, “I can make hot chocolate.”

“I don’t want it.”

Lilia sighed dramatically, “Silver made it.”

“Then I’ll gladly take it.”

“My son makes it and it’s okay, but if I make it-”

“I’ll die.”

You smiled into your hot chocolate as Lilia grumbled to himself.

The talk did them all good. I’m glad to hear him call Silver his son. Good for both of them.

“Curious minds can’t help but wonder.”

“Well, curious minds should ask.”

“What would your dream have been? If you had taken Malleus’ hand?”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, “I wouldn’t have taken it.”

Lilia pulled you closer, “Why not?”

“Because reality brings me more happiness than any dream could. I have you and everyone else here. No dream can beat that.”

You took his hand in yours, “Besides, only reality can give me what I truly wish for.”

You tapped on a certain finger, smiling at the slight widening of his eyes.

I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.

The smile Lilia gave you then had you falling for him all over again.

Bonus:

“Boys! YN proposed to me! Oh~ I am so flustered~”

You don’t look flustered. In fact, you look like the cat who ate the canary…I wonder if it’s to late to ask Malleus to put me to sleep.

...I seem to keep writing proposals in my Lilia fics 😂🥰

💚🌺💞🌻 Hope you enjoyed.

#twst x reader #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland x you #malleus draconia #twst lilia #Lilia Vanrouge x you #twisted wonderland x mc #lilia vanrouge x mc #twst fluff #twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #twst scenarios

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beesspacedotorg · 3 months

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Handle With Care

Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words

Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not

Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.

There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.

“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.

“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”

“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.

“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.

“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.

“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”

You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.

“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.

You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.

“Hey-”

“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.

“Eat.”

“Yes, chef.”

The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.

“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.

“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.

“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.

“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.

“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.

You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.

He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.

“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.

He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.

“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide.

You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.

“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.

The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.

“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.

Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.

“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.

“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.

“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.

He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.

“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.

His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.

“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.

“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.

When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.

“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.

“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.

“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.

He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.

“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”

#bee blurbs #ft.lino #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #lee minho x reader #the last time i wrote fanfiction and posted it it was very mid langst so lets hope this is better #this is saved in my google docs as “Sorry to God and also Myself” btw

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spencereidluver · 5 months

Text

F is for First Date

summary: You and Spencer go on your first date to a little coffee shop before work. You convince him to try your coffee, and he finds he enjoys it.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none. just fluff and spencer being a gentleman

You roll over in your bed, throwing the covers off of your body. It was hot. Why was it so hot? You look over to your alarm cock: 8:03 a.m. You were running late. 45 minutes late, actually. Luckily, your apartment is only a few blocks away from the office, however, you typically left at 8:10. That left you 7 minutes to do your normal hour long routine.

You quickly jump up from your bed, letting the blankets fall wherever they pleased. Honestly, what’s the point in making the bed? You’re just going to tear it apart in your sleep tonight, anyways. You jog slightly to your bathroom, grabbing your hairbrush and multitasking as you did your morning pee. You brushed your teeth in record time, definitely not two minutes, but at least the morning breath was gone.

You went back to your room, slipping off your flannel pajama pants and gray “Harvard” shirt. You didn’t go to Harvard. You just liked the oversized shirt.

You grabbed a nude-toned bra out of your dresser and clasped it behind your back. You slid a white lace top over your head and threw a tan fuzzy cardigan on. You put a pair of dark tights on and pulled a dark brown leather miniskirt over them, tucking the white top in. You slid on thick white socks on, ones that ended at your mid-shin, and put on a pair of black converse.

Good enough, you thought to yourself, not bothering to put on makeup. You planned to stay in the office today. No meetings, and pray to god no cases. You just wanted a chill day.

You left your apartment at 8:15, not much later than you normally did, you’d just have to take out the coffee stop this morning.

______

You nearly drop your bag as you’re rushing through the parking lot, trying desperately to enter the building before 8:30. Not only were you up late this morning, but traffic was a bitch. It wouldn’t be a big deal if you were a few minutes late, however you’ve been petulant in your 9 months and don’t plan to start truancy now.

Of course, Derek, who 9 times out of 10 is fashionablly late, sees you speed walking through the parking lot.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing in so late?” He jokingly cat-calls you through the lot.

“Slept late,” You respond in a yell, not slowing your step at all.

“Aw, baby needs her beauty sleep?” “Something like that.”

You rush into the building, crossing through the glass doors of the BAU office right as the clock struck 8:30, Derek somehow a full two minutes behind you. You walk over to your desk and place your knitted tote bag filled with personal items on the ground beneath you. Sitting in your chair, you plop the stack of paperwork in front of you, and look at the man across from you.

“Morning, Spence,” You say as you open the file.

“Goodmorning, y/n. How was your morning?” He asks curiously.

“Well, I overslept and didn’t have time for a coffee stop, but luckily I was having a good hair day so it doesn’t matter. How about you?”

“Well I couldn’t even tell. You look great. My morning was alright. I got my coffee.” He mockingly takes a big sip before standing up and excusing himself.

You didn’t know where he was going, though you had enough paperwork to let it pass through your mind. You quickly began scribbling through the papers and placing files where they needed to go. You forgot how messy you’d left your desk Friday when you returned from a case. You were in a big hurry to leave and go to dinner with the team, you just threw everything from the case on your desk and scrammed. It wasn’t a big deal though, it was just easy, boring paperwork.

Spencer returned a few minutes later with a coffee cup in hand. He approached your desk. “Hey, y/n,” he says, you move your attention from the paperwork to him towering over you. “I made you a coffee. I um, I put two sugars in it, I hope that’s alright, I’ve seen you drink it like that before and-”

“It’s perfect, Spence, thank you.” You say, taking the cup as he hands it down to you.

He hurries to his chair and hides his face. You curiously turned the cup around. There, you saw the inscription of his homely handwriting. “y/n: do you want to go out for coffee tomorrow morning before work? -Spence.”

You smiled, and went to look up at him, but he instinctively scurried away. Though, he’d left his half drank cup of coffee on his desk. You walk over to his, and flop down in his chair, it almost swallowing you whole as the leather back had fitted to his broader shoulders. You grab the coffee and a Sharpie marker from his pencil cup. “Spence: of course I do… 7:30? <3”

You get up and return to your desk, almost on cue, Spencer returns. You were unsure of where he came from, though it didn’t matter. He sat at his desk, and you nodded your head to the cup. He looked confused for a brief second, before bringing it to his eyes to read it.

He looked up and smiled at you. “ 7:30 sounds great, I’ll meet you there,” he says.

“Okay! I’m parking here and walking, if you wish to join,” you say, taking a sip of the special made coffee. It was no different than how you normally made it, but it tasted special because of who made it.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot here, then. How’s that?” “That’s perfect, Spence.”

You return to your paperwork, unable to hide the smile on your face. You’d waited so long for this moment, you couldn’t believe it was finally happening. You caught Spencer smiling a few times as well. You wondered how long he’d wanted to ask you out. You’ve found Spencer attractive since the day you started working here. You were so beyond ecstatic something was finally happening between the two of you.

You finished your coffee quickly. It was the best coffee you have ever tasted. You thought briefly for a second, before going to the kitchen to clean the styrofoam cup out. You made sure it was no longer sticky or had any coffee residue before drying it completely and taking it back to your desk. You open the small pencil drawer of your desk and pull out four sticky notes. Notes Spencer had left you in the past few weeks. You placed the four notes in the cup and placed a new lid on it. Putting the cup in the side drawer, you smiled to yourself. You’ve kept every note Spencer has ever given you. And you don’t plan on stopping any time soon.

_____

‘7:28,’ the clock on the dash of your car read. You looked in your rearview mirror at the road behind you. There was Spencer in his old man car. You’d been early, nervous about your date, though you knew it would go good. You wore a fitted white turtleneck with a knitted tank top sweater vest of different shades of brown on top. You paired this with a khaki skirt and the same pair of black converse. You realized this was a very Spencer-esque outfit, and it was quite possible you and him could have nearly the exact same outfit on today.

Luckily, Spencer picked from the other side of his closet this morning. He approached you wearing dark brown slacks and black converse as well. He had his satchel pulled over his waist, drawing attention to the way he swayed as he walked. He had a dark, though not as dark as his pants, sweater that was open, and underneath was a collared off-white shirt and a diagonally striped tie. His left hand rested on his satchel, and his right was hidden behind his back. He did his little hoppy jog to your car, you having opened the door, grabbing your knitted tote bag, and beginning to make your way around to him.

“Good morning, y/n,” he says as he reaches you.

“Hi, Spence,” You didn’t know why, but you were suddenly very shy. Maybe because this was a “formal date,” but you’d been on friend dates with Spencer so many times before.

Spencer was clearly nervous too, though less than you. His hand from behind his back made itself known, in his fist was a single red rose. “I um, I got this for you. I know it’s only one, but I actually saw a flower patch on my way here and I didn’t want to take them all.” He was rambling.

“I love it, it’s perfect.” You grab the rose from his hand, letting your fingers run over the petals. They were smooth. He could see you were trying not to touch the stem too much, as you were trying not to touch the thorns.

“I picked all the thorns off so you didn’t hurt yourself. I don’t have any water for it or anything…”

You examined the stem. You saw all the spots where thorns once laid. He was so sweet. Not only did he make a stop to pick you a rose, but he also safety coded it. You were going to keep this rose forever. You knew it. You planned on pressing the flowers once you got home from work that night. Maybe you could keep the petals in the “note drawer,” or maybe you could start a new drawer..

“Spencer, hey, I love it okay. Thank you.” You slid the stem of the rose between two knits of your bag, it poking inside and the flower on the outside like a pin. You saw Spencer smile. He was proud of himself.

The two of you began to walk through the parking lot. Spencer paid careful attention to your feet, matching his gate exactly with yours. As you neared the end of the parking lot, reaching the sidewalk next to a fairly busy street, you felt a hand gently brush your waist. Spencer switched sides, him now being on the side adjacent to the road. First flowers, and now this? This boy was a true gentleman.

You smiled to yourself. Technically, the date hadn’t even begun yet, but you were already certain you wanted a relationship to blossom from this. You looked to the man to your left, the sun in a position to hit against his face in a way that made him look like an angel. You couldn’t help yourself. You reached over and took hold of his hand. He jumped slightly, before gripping a little too tight. He looked down at you and smiled.

“You’re so pretty, y/n,” Spencer said. He’d been waiting what seemed like years- though only 9 months- to tell you that. You didn’t know where Spencer learned how to flirt, but frankly you didn’t care. You really liked this side of him.

“I think you’re pretty too, Spence.” You said. He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Wow.

______

The coffee shop made itself known once you reached the top of a hill. The natural brick on the outside makes it look homey. It was about a 10 minute walk from the parking lot of the BAU, but Spencer and you were agents. You made the walk take a total of eight minutes. Speed walking isn’t a training module for the FBI, though it is definitely learned, and quickly.

Spencer opened the door and allowed for you to enter first. Yet another gentlemanly move today. The smell of coffee filled your noses. It reminded you of Spencer. He always had coffee breath, yet not the nasty kind. He always seemed to smell so wonderful.

“Hello,” the barista at the counter cheerfully said as you and Spencer entered the small building. The two of you approached her. “What can I get for you guys today?”

You order your regular and Spencer orders a black coffee with a LOT of sugar. You retrieve the coffees from the pick up area and sit at a raised table in the corner next to a window.

“Why do you like black coffee?” you ask him.

“I’m not sure. I always drank it when I was growing up and throughout college… and honestly, I’ve never tried it any other way.” He responded, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Really?” you said surprised. “With how much coffee you drink, I’m surprised you haven’t ventured into new territory even once.”

“Not once.” He took another sip. You noticed him kicking his feet beneath the table.

“Do you want to try a sip of mine?”

He smiled, crinkling his nose up. “Sure, do you want to try mine?”

“I guess I’ll give it a shot, though I will say I’m not the biggest fan of black coffee, so don’t be mad if I don’t like it.”

“I can’t promise anything, I can’t even say I’m going to like your girly drink.” He was teasing.

“I’ll tell you what Spence. You like my coffee and I’ll buy you a croissant. I like your coffee, you buy me a croissant. Deal?”

“It’s a deal, y/l/n.”

You switched cups. He gave it a sniff before popping open the lid to see inside. Tensley, he took a sip. You saw his eyes bulge. Licking his lips as he brought the cup down, he wrinkled his nose once again. He brought the cup back up, taking another sip.

“You know what, I think you owe me a croissant.”

You smiled at him, before taking a sip of his old man coffee, you cocked your head to the side.

“You don’t like it, do you?” He laughed.

You quickly sat the cup down and jumped up from your seat. You walked up to the counter, and ordered one regular croissant. Returning to the table with the plastic container in hand, you tossed in down in front of him.

He opened the container, and tore a piece of the pastry off. He took a bite, and attempted to slide the container to you. In the process, it collided with his cup of coffee which was still situated on your side, causing it to spill all over your blouse.

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, at least it wasn’t hot anymore.” You reach for the few napkins on the table, trying to dry yourself off despite knowing it wouldn’t do anything.

You were giggling, but Spencer didn’t find this one bit funny. He felt awful. You began to attempt wiping the table with the napkins, but were stopped by Spencer’s hand grabbing your damp-sleeved arm.

“Hey, don’t worry about the table. I got it.” He gets up to go get napkins from the counter, before stopping in his tracks. He turns around and comes back to you, sitting in the chair using the sleeve of your sweater to stop the liquid from pouring onto your skirt and the ground. “Y/n, do you want to wear my sweater?”

This takes you a bit off guard. For a second, you forget your soaking wet with warm coffee. Your voice catches in your throat as you try to speak, but Spencer is already unbuttoning the two fastened buttons and sliding the sweater off his shoulders.

“You can go to the bathroom and change. I’ve got the mess, okay?” He hands you the sweater and makes room for you to move around him. You rush to the bathroom, trying not to leave a trail of coffee droplets through the lobby.

Turning into a stall, you immediately begin taking your sweater and white shirt off, tossing white one in the small garbage can. There was no way you’d be able to get the coffee stains out, and plus, the shirt was only $4 on sale at WalMart. Only left in your wire bra, you slip the brown sweater on. You button it all the way up, but as it’s a men’s sweater, it’s a little more of a V-neck than you’d like, especially since you were going to work soon. You tucked one side of the sweater into your skirt, letting the other side hang over to create dimension in your outfit and make it less simple. You toss your damp sweater vest over your shoulder and exit the bathroom.

Spencer was waiting for you when you came out. He’d gotten the mess cleaned up and was ready to leave. He grabs your hand, leading you outside the doors to begin your walk back to work.

next chapter: G is for Girlfriend

a/n: Sorry it took so long on this chapter, I've been pretty busy. Hopefully I can get the next few out quickly as I hope to release part M (the christmas themed) on Christmas day.

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @lotus-ignis @sammy-4103 @ktssstuff @ada--44 @moongirl27 @monfleurr @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @ariianelle @iiheartbowie @spencerreidismybitch @traderjoesmints @ivyflowers13 @hades-disappointment-child @aceofspades190 @taygrls @hookergutss @random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08 @cherrybowbabby @theofficialfunk

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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