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nctsworld · 3 years

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two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

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sunsents · 3 years

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Library - James Potter (M)

Heyyy, hey, how ya'll doing?? My exams are over!! Thank you so much for the support and the lovely messages 😙 here's a kith. I know you guys are waiting on Empty part 2, so here's a really short unedited thing?? I wrote a few months ago for you guys to read while you wait. You can really see how much I improved with my recent writing, but I hope you all enjoy this nonetheless while I finish up Empty 2. Enjoy, or don't. Idk.

Summary —> A study sesh turns into something much more when two knuckleheads interrupt you.

Pairing: jamespotter x fem!reader (im sorry to frederick for neglecting my gingeritis religion.)

Word count: a mere 1.4k

Warnings: smut / just filthy sex honestly / cheeky lil breast action /

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You made sure to neatly pile your hoard of essay papers and not mind the ink blotches your palm had left from the hours of work put within. It didn't matter, Slughorn cared about the content rather than esthetic, hopefully. It was no big matter to worry about you told yourself, your handwriting was messy and not the most appealing, but your handiwork in potions was quite the opposite, it was fine.

"Hey ____, still workin' on those?" James Potter's husky voice cracked like a whip in-front of your face, perhaps painful to your ears as well.

You glowered at him, what else were you supposed to do? His antics continued to worsen every day. "What do you want?" your nasally voice caused you to clear your throat, evidence perhaps that you hadn't left the library seat and spoke in hours.

"Just checking in." Sirius Black's pool of hair - black as well - was turned the opposite way, he was gazing at the library books, a most unusual sight for him. "Didn't want you melting outta boredom."

"I'm perfectly fine thanks." you snapped, your head rung in awful thumps of pain but you paid no attention to it.

The corners of James's perfect lips lowered playfully. "You're all snappy, we're doin' nothing." his tone was smooth as silk now, his lips tugging into a playful grin once again. Never was a grin not on James's handsome face.

You took a deep inhale while watching him, you had to anyways. Your fingers were fidgeting together under the table, a view James couldn't hopefully see but the way your rings clicked together made him painfully aware. "Just don't bother me till' I'm done, I'm almost finished."

James nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a frown once again. You had to roll you eyes, had to do something to make it seem like you weren't enjoying their so called company.

You stretched your head back and enjoyed the feeling of your neck craning and extending for a few moments. It had been a some time since movement was made in your fatigued body. you figured your tied up hair wasn't going to keep intact much longer, so you released the band in a swift move. Your hair cascaded down all the same, then you quickly shot straight and continued to write.

You didn't have time for comforts and stretching, you were close to finishing your essay and that was all that mattered. You didn't even bother asking James if he had done it, because his answer was surely at the ready. He was Head Boy and his marks were all excellent, but when it came to homework it was long forgotten to him.

A slight diversion caused you to look up, James and Sirius were on the ground and a few books had fallen, scattered around the wooden library floor. You scoffed then flicked your wand; the books magicked up and flew back to their original places. "One second and you guys make a mess." you stared, your eyes flashed dangerously. You weren't an intimidating person, at least you liked to think so much unlike what your friends said.

But surely, you easily managed to intimidate the two most popular boys in Hogwarts. They both quickly shot up and took the seats in-front of you. Sirius was apologetically looking down, unlike James who immediately relaxed and sprawled himself out on the plush cushions. Ass, you thought, but didn't say anything.

"Alright what do you want, really." you deadpanned, you knew them for seven years, they weren't fooling you.

James, who was busy wiping his glasses on the fabric of his sweater put them back on and smirked. "You." he simply said.

You rolled her eyes and scoffed all the same, though your stomach was erupting in butterflies. "James why don't you go bother Lily like you always do." you whispered, Madame Pince was glaring at them and you weren't going to risk getting kicked out of the library again.

"No," James started, Sirius merely watched the interaction play out with a smile. "why would I go t'her when I have you right here."

You shot up and squeezed your fists, you weren't going to fall for it, a phrase you had been telling yourself for the past two years when James's interest suddenly piqued on you. "I'm gonna go put these books back."

After pressing the three large books to your chest, you wasted no time getting far away from the two boys as possible. Your heartbeat was rapid, dangerously fast that you thought you might drop dead.

It wasn't much time until you reached the furthest corridor of bookcases, luckily this was the row where you had acquired the books. You walked to the middle and stood on your toes, reaching your hand up and letting the books fly back to their original places. Then, the next book, same process. You were going awfully slow, doing your best to avoid talking to James as much as you could so your burning cheeks could go cool down and your heart would stop trying to thump out of your chest.

The third book, so close to being done until a presence suddenly overpowered you. It was right behind you and awfully familiar, towering over your stretched figure. James' cologne was what gave it away so suddenly, "Let me." his tone was going in spirals, once husky, then silky and now this. Breathless, strained and somehow desperate.

What you didn't realize was your skirt lifting up when you stood tip toe on your legs, your years of Quidditch clearly visible on your body. At least for James anyways. You heard him swallow thickly, then a muscular arm towering over her figure and pushing the last book up.

James sucked in a breath.

It was dizzying, you were never this close to him. A new territory, unfamiliar and intimate, not to mention exciting. Sure he flirted but he never took it too far, you didn't know what to think of it either. He was confident while "flirting" with Lily, he held his chest high and cracked jokes which only made the Lily blush deeper and continue to insult him. His ego boosted whenever Lily would try to hide away her blush, and the usual row of girls on the background sighing with her. It was somehow annoying, seeing James so buttered up.

James exhaled harshly.

But with you it was different, James was the one blushing. An unusual sight, James Potter being flustered but it was true. He would even stutter at times if you playfully flirted back, which happened very rarely. He would start off confident, and it would die down in a matter of seconds.

James was breathing almost heavily now.

You felt proud at sometimes, you even believed that James maybe would be harboring feelings for you. But then that big ole clump in your head would yell 'why would he, he's James Potter. Also, he's been in love with the same girl for years.' and all that hope would dissolve away.

James groaned desperately.

So frankly, you didn't know how you ended up with your skirt hiked up your waist, panties messily tucked aside and thick cock buried to hilt between your walls and continuously slamming into that one, dizzying spot. James' hands slithered around your waist and his arms tightly encircled on your stomach to press. You could feel every single muscle. Every single muscle to from stomach, down his thighs and the flesh between them.

He pressed his chest on your back, whispered the filthiest phrases he could think of to make you writhe, told you how pathetic you were for letting him do this in a ruddy library. Maybe this was what caused him to run a hand up your chest and clasp his hand around your throat. "Keep quiet, don't want anyone seeing you like this." he had told you, and it was the slight roll of his hips that made you unable to answer and barely take it.

You babbled, drooled, worshipped his cock with your sopping cunt until he was telling you that he loved you. He pulled on your chin to kiss you, sloppy and wet and he didn't let you answer. His glasses were pushed behind, rocking back and forth with his body, dangerously close to falling off. He was gorgeous and with your hands propped on the library shelves, you whimpered an "I love you." back. The two of you came, claiming each other and lazy smiles knowing that the feelings the both of you harbored was reciprocated, and the possibility of having something more was true.

#james potter #james potter smut #marauders #hp smut #hp #marauders smut #james potter fluff #reader insert #james potter x reader #sirius black #james potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter smut #harry potter fic #marauders fic

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Text

~ 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ~

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝; SMUT!!! a smidge of angst and a lil fluff, felix x fem!reader. enemies to fwb, bullying!!!, highschool!au, blowjob, pierced!felix, mentions of complicated family relationships/bad economy, felix being rude lmao, PIV, unprotected sex (use protections ffs, this is a bad example), orgasm (m/f), cum, nicknames, shy reader, fingering.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝; 6.6 k

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎; Consent is like tea or my personal favorite,,, tea slut HSAHSHA PLEASE im- anyways enjoy both tea and consent, both very very sexy and good for you

also,,, my first kinda long fic??

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺; Lee Felix. The class bully. Also the son of a wealthy business man. You didn’t have the same privileges, living alone at such a young age. After an arrangement Felix invites you to work at his fathers old tea shop but this relationship turns into something unexpected.

The cold wind blew on your exposed calfs, the skirt of the school uniform fluttering as your backpack was lazily thrown across your shoulder, your head turned to the direction the bus comes from. You were not the only one on that bus stop. Other students standing at least a feet apart from each other, all eagerly waiting to hurry back to their comfortable homes, eat dinner and start on their assignments.

You on the other hand had other plans.

What was on your computer screen wasn’t the typical essay or sheet of physics questions. It was job applications. And lots of them.

A notification arrived, your phone vibrating in your coat pocket and as the screen lit up you saw a message.

[ Rent due today y/n, have it in by 8 ]

Living by yourself in a dusty apartment that contained nothing more than a bed, a desk and a tiny kitchen overfilled with noodle packets was nothing to be proud of. You could barely afford that type of lifestyle since you were a student so how on earth were you gonna get rent in to the old lady that served as your landlord?

You sighed, the packed bus rolling slowly on the way and stopping, there barely being place to stand in the crowded vehicle.

Your apartment was right above an old tea shop, the owner being a wealthy man that owned several shops on the block. His busy lifestyle including buying and selling properties kept him away from his true passion in life; tea. What scared you was his resemblance to a person you knew. A person you knew too well.

Lee Felix

His only purpose in life was to have fun. To ruin others. And he had every opporunity to do so. His report card was nothing but lies and money, his fathers wealth being able to buy him decent grades without lifting a finger. There was one, only one, instance where the young boy would try his best and that’s when intimidating others. His best skill. Those piercing dark eyes and knife-sharp jaw could leave anyone shaken for days.

But do you know who his favorite person to bully was?

You.

All the hurtful memories eventually started to merge together but one stood out clearly to you. It happened a year ago. You walked into the sunlit classroom, your other classmates sitting around their desks, chatting and showing each other photos, laughing happily. Friends was not something you had, more like acquaintance. The students you would greet and exchange a couple of words with but nothing more. Your assigned seat was in the third row, the one sitting right behind you being Felix himself. With a quick glance at the clock you looked underneath your desk, searching for the book you needed for english class, your eyebrows furrowing as you searched desperatly, turning every book over and ripping open your backpack, did you forget it at home?

“Looking for this?”

The cold voice sent a shiver down your spine, you slowly turning back, afraid of what evil gaze awaited you. You gulped as you saw his angular facial structure, his cheekbones pertruding as he held your english book in his hand, the arms of the white school uniform shirt being rolled up just enough to show off his blinged out watch, veins softly trailing upwards on his flexed arms.

You nodded to which Felix scoffed. Sighing you stood up, standing at the side of his desk and all of a sudden throwing yourself over it in a quest of snatching it from his grasp but failing epically, you falling down onto the floor, scraping your knees on the rough wooden flooring of the classroom. You try to stand up but was quickly stopped by Felix grabbing your face with his other hand, his wrists decked out with multiple delicate chains, all jingling with his movements.

Meeting his gaze made your skin crawl, his eyes almost animalistic as he looked deep into your innocent doe-eyes, smirking. His blonde hair falling on each side of his face, framing it like a renaissance painting since his stoic features was art in itself. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on Felix’s making the boy annoyed, before you knew it a clear liquid was spilling down your cheek, that not being tears but instead Felix’s spit. You flinch back as he waves the book infront of your face, tears jerking in the corner of your glossy eyes due to the humiliation, your other classmates forming a circle around the two of you, unable to do anything since that could mean the end of them.

“You want this, you want it so bad? What’s that angel? You’re gonna cry?”

He crouches as your gaze lowers to the floor, hair hanging infront of your face as a shield from his degrading words as the tears started pouring out of you like water, mixing with Felix’s saliva. He laughs psychotically, the cold laughter echoing in the classroom, tiny specs of dusty floating around like bubbles in a fizzy drink. The bold boy puts down the book on the floor behind him before he raises his hand, you shutting your eyes tightly, expecting the worst but being surprised as his hand laces in your disheveled locks. He pushes a strand of hair behind your flushed ear, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath hit the shell of your ear.

“I’m gonna give it to you,,, but I want something in return”

You snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide open, eyebrows hightened.

“W-what do you want?” you say, only for him to hear.

Felix hums, running his tongue in the inside on his cheek before speaking in a low voice.

“You”

You choked on your own spit, coughing as you turned away from him. You could hear his laugh ringing in your ears and after your coughing fit you turned back hastily, eyes as big as saucers. This couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be what you though it was. In sheer panic you once again tried to snatch the book, crawling on the floor like a bug in order to snake around his back to have a chance to grab the corner of plastic outside of the textbook but being met with disappointment when Felix slammed his foot on it, you retracting your hand after being mere inches away from his shoe. The boy tsked.

“I expect you at the school gate by the end of the day and if you don’t show up you’re gonna pay for it, understood angel?”

You nod, just nod. No words or mimicks. Simply a nod. His intimidation wiping the entire alphabet from your mind.

He stands up, grabbing the book and throwing it at you before exiting the classroom, a evil smirk plastered on his face. The sharp gazes of other students around you made you want to escape but you couldn’t, class was starting in 2 minutes.

♡

The sun shone it’s rays on your face, students exiting through the wide white metal gates. You ran your hand through your hair, pulling the straps of your backpack impatiently at you looked left to right, seeing the flowers blossom out in the rather windy weather. Suddenly your wrist was grabbed by a hand wider than yours.

It was Felix.

His closeness made you gulp loudly, a lump nestling into your stomach as you felt your anxiety rise, scared of what he might do to you even if you did find him strangely attractive even though he was a complete asshole. But who didn’t? The entire school was ready to give up their life in order to even be this close to the boy, girls and boys alike. You shook your head, wanting to get rid of the silly thoughts that clouded your mind. Only after minutes did you realise that your legs moved on their own, you being dragged by Felix, his hand still on your wrist.

“W-where are we going?” you inquired, the wind blowing on the blonde pierced boy, his angelic hair bouncing with every step.

“Don’t worry about it” he said, not speaking a single more word during the entire time he held your wrist and walked with you in the spring weather.

All of a sudden the two of you were standing infront of the tea shop, you lifting your head to glance upwards at your dusty window that was right above the tiny wooden sign that said “Tea Shop”, swinging rustily back and forward. Felix retrieves a key, unlocking the corrodated wooden door, the color matching the sign above.

“Wh- how do you know-”

Felix hushes you, closing the door behind you before throwing the keys on the counter.

“I don’t care about what you have to say. My father owns this place and I usually hang around here whenever it’s closed.”

“Do you work here?” you asked with a voice filled with curiosity.

Felix starts laughing his signature laugh, it being laced with nothing but iniquity.

“Work? Do you think I need to work? I’m the only child of a wealthy family, I’m pretty much settled for life”

You nervously look down at the floor, only being in the tea shop a couple of times before it was closed for business.

“Well,,, I know that your father owns this place, I live in the apartment just above so-”

You were quickly cut of by Felix slamming his hand on the table, standing behind the checkout counter and leaning over it with his two arms as pedestals.

“Why?”

You looked at him confused before your eyes gazed across the wall of glas cabinets displaying their finest china. Teapots with squiggly handles, painted with the utmost attention to detail, the colors of the scenes painted contrasting nicely with the eggshell white background. Small lamps were installed above each teapot, illuminating the work of art even more.

“Why what?” you said back, still in trance from the beauty of the teapots.

“Why do you live alone?” His eyebrows raised.

“I never said that!”

“y/n, that apartment is barely enough for a fucking mouse, there’s no way you could live there with someone else”

Damn, how did he know that? You had no other choice but to nod timidly, curling your hand into a fist.

“Don’t have the best relationship with my parents and since they aren’t wealthy like yours I have to do my best to find a way to support myself” you spat out at him, annoyed at his many questions.

“Touché” Felix said shortly, shrugging his shoulders.

After a long moment of silence the blonde boy spoke again;

“Let’s make a deal, I’ll get you a job here and I’ll join you but only because you’re stupid and need my help, not because I want to be here”

Your eyes light up, like an excited child you dash toward the counter and place your hands near Felix’s, looking at him with twinkling eyes.

“Really? You would do that?”

Felix nods.

“But don’t get too excited, you haven’t paid your end of the deal yet”

“Tell me! I’ll do anything, I promise!” you says quickly, smiling widely at Felix’s deadpan face.

“Suck me off”

Your previously bright smile faded in a matter of seconds, now turning into pure confusion.

“Wh-what? I can’t do that! Are you crazy?!”

Felix scoffs, walking towards the door in a cocky manner with his black backpack over his shoulder, wearing black ripped jeans that were strictly banned in school but no longer warned to Felix by the teachers. The schools logo embroidered on the white flowy shirt that was unbuttoned, exposing his brand name t-shirt.

Just in time you managed to block the door, his lips inches from yours as he sighed, smirking down at you.

“I’ll do it! I will do it!”

You blurted out, you had no other choice but to do it. Seeking other jobs had been impossible since you were only a student without any work experience, not having many other skills other than procrastinating and sleeping. You needed this in order to survive. You needed him.

The boy pushed you against the entrance door, placing his forehead against yours.

“Of course you will” Felix whispered in a voice deeper than the ocean, causing you to helplessly gulp and drop down on your knees, them hitting the floor with a thump. His small but veiny hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it in a swift motion, metal hitting each other. You were lost deep in thoughts, simply staring at his crotch whilst rethinking your every life decision. Wondering how on earth you got to this point, soon having your mouth stuffed with your bully’s dick.

Thank god that he was at least hot.

Felix popped his dick over the band of his underwear and as if you hadn’t had enough surprises today one last one awaited you. A silver metal barbell lodged right beneath his pretty red tip, his dick already hard as he gave it a couple of pumps. Your mouth fell agape, cheeks heating up as you struggled to keep a straight face. Felix being the tease he is had to comment;

“What? Bigger than you thought?”

You scoffed from his boldness, not believing your ears.

“N-no! Get over yourself you ass”

“Enough talking princess” Felix said in a deep voice, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on your plushy lips, them being coated with a layer of saliva from you repeatedly lickning them out of nervousness.

There was a moment of awkwardness, you not being sure where to place your hands before you grabbed the base of his girthy dick, pursing your lips and latching them onto the tip, sinking down gradually in order to not choke immedietly, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had.

Felix let out a strained groan at the sensation, you feeling the cold metal as you flattened your tongue, licking a fat strap on the underside of his cock earning yet another groan. The blonde laced his fingers in your hair, tugging on it slightly in order to control the sinful sounds dripping out of his mouth. You whimpered against his dick, there barely being any room to breath as your nose was hovering just above his abdomen, impressed by your own gag reflex but that didn’t last long, Felix now shoving your head down his length, making you choke.

“Wow, is there anything you can do right? Can’t even suck me off properly”

You can only hum in response, sending shivers down Felix’s spine from the vibrations, the boy feeling the knot in his stomach tightening. The hair flies in front of you face as you bob your head down his cock that was equally as veiny as his decked out arms, feeling the metal hitting your bottom teeth a couple of times. Tears teased the corners of your eyes as you were throat deep on Felix’s member, your hands slightly sweaty from the butterflies in your stomach. Eventually Felix started to weaken in your grasp, small grunts escaping him as you hollowed your cheeks, mascara staining your heated cheeks.

“f-fuck,,,yes just like that,,ah-”

Luckily for the both of you the shop was located in a rather desolate area of town therefore no bypassers saw the scandalous view through the door that was decorated with a small foggged window. But did Felix care? Not really, the boy was bold enough to get sucked off in public if the opportunity presented itself.

You looked up at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, spit starting to dribble down your chin and landing on your skirt, forming slightly saturated patches on the fabric from the wetness. The blonde boys useless comments didn’t make it any easier to withstand this agonizing process.

“Ah,,, never thought I would be seeing you like this, thought I had degraded you enough but this is just another level of humiliation, isn’t it y/n?”

The hand that was previously tangled in your hair was now moved to your stained cheek, him carefully swiping his thumb across the warm skin but you furrowed your eyebrows, swatting his hand away causing him to scoff before being interupted by his own loud moan, you pulling off and kitten licking his tip, coaxing his impending orgasm.

It didn’t take long before the boy was shutting his eyes tightly, his jaw slacking as a last low vibrational growl ringed in your ears, his eyes still piercing yours while the thick white liquid spilled out of him, coating the metal bar and seeped into your mouth, your dry lips now getting a coat of clear gloss, the rest dripping down onto the floor and your dark colored skirt.

You shook your head as you looked around the shop, not wanting to spit out his salty seed right on the floor but Felix simply shook his head back at you, grabbing your face gently.

“Swallow”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin from his intimidating voice, as if you’d been cast under a spell you nod, swallowing the droplets of cum harshly, the sound of your loud gulp causing Felix to hum and with a smile, ruffle your hair before zipping himself up and running a hand through his own hair, exposing his forehead for just a bit. You stand up on your own, legs wobbling as you don’t even expect the rude boy to help.

“You start tomorrow after school, my father will only be happy to know that someone actually want’s to work in this shithole. I’ll join you but once again, not because I want to but because your stupid head will mess everything up.”

You nod, only now noticing how scruffy the rest of the teashop looked, moving boxes piling up like the dust in the windowsills. You jerked your head to the side, eyes wandering all over the place, everywhere from the wittering plants to the miscellaneous stacks of files.

The both of you step out of the dusty shop, the cool air hitting your cheek, now remembering the makeup that was running down it. Without saying a word Felix tries to escape but you stop him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t turn around, staring at the road ahead of him.

“Thank you”

You whisper out, your hair fluttering in the wind, feeling yourself getting emotional from his seemingly sweet gesture. Felix starts walking, the sound of his footsteps getting fainter as the disappears down the sunny asphalt road, leaving you standing infront of the shop before you go behind the shop, entering your burrow of an apartment.

♡

You walk to the teashop in the floral spring weather, wondering where Felix had been all day since he wasn’t in school this wednesday where lectures went in half speed. Arriving at the shop everything was surprisingly closed. You peeked into the window, standing on your toes as if that would improve your vision but gave up quickly after, only seeing the scene from yesterday, the same old piles of rubbish.

A light tap threw you off guard, you yelping and jerking away before noticing the blonde hair, Felix greeting you with a jingle of keys in his hand.

“Wanna have the honors? I mean, it is your first day after all”

You respond with a small “yes” before grabbing the keys from his hand and unlocking the entrance to the stuffy teashop, coughing as you step in from the dust that twirled all around the two of you. You walked over to the sad plants that were placed haphazardly in the windowsill, swiping your finger over the leafs and closely examining the dust that rubbed off, blowing it away softly before turning to Felix that was nearing the pile of random files.

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do before we can actually brew tea”

He didn’t smile, visibly annoyed. Felix went into the back, behind the beaded curtain he retrieved a bucket of cleaning supplies.

“You mop the floors, I’ll clean some of the heavy stuff away”

Felix said, his voice still in that notorious deep tone.

“Not fair? There’s not even a mop which means I’ll have to do it by hand?”

Felix scoffed, throwing a old rag at you before turning around and grabbing a moving box filled with god knows what. You sigh, grabbing the bucket and emptying the contents, the brushes and strangly colored bottles of cleaning solution spreading across the counter before you went behind the beaded curtain, being met by a murky kitchen that hadn’t been cleaned in what seemed like forever. You sighed, looking around and opening cabinets only to be met with half broken porcelain and cobwebs, the shelf at the top displaying a multitude of metal cans filled with loose tea that had probably gone tasteless. With a disgusted face you close the cabinet, instead filling up the bucket with water and adding dishsoap in lack of other cleaning substance.

Hours ticked by, Felix sighing and huffing out of annoyance when carrying out and sorting through countless boxes while you cleaned the floor and dusted every corner, the shop transforming right before your eyes. The two of you eventually ended up in the kitchen, you observing every cup for cracks and disposing of those that showed just that as Felix was washing those that you thought looked presentable. Felix tried his best to not drop the cups despite his slippery fingers in a pathetic attempt at trying to do the dishes, it was clear that he had never in his life had to do this which made you roll your eyes, thinking about the boiling anger you had at this pompous and spoiled boy.

“Do you like living alone y/n? ”

The question was rather unexpected, making you choke on your own saliva. Never in your life had you thought that he cared about you. You shrugged your shoulders, wanting to appear unbothered.

“y-yeah, I wanted to be more responsible, I mean we are adults soon and nothing is served on a silver platter but I wouldn’t expect you to know.”

Felix smirked, seeing right through your lie but choosing to not taunt you. You felt vulnerable from the question but instead of continuing the awkward silence you wanted to get to know him better, maybe he wasn’t such a dick after all, maybe his tough guy personality was only a facade?

“What’s with that piercing?” you said, pointing at his groin with your chin making Felix laugh, getting shy from your question but snapping back to his cold outer self.

“It was a bet and as you can see I lost” he scoffed before continuing, “wanna see?”

Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up before stammering out;

“N-no, Felix you’re disgusting!” you say in desperation for an answer but Felix only laughs even more, almost annoying you.

“Well it wasn’t so disgusting when you were sucking me off, have you forgotten babygirl? Maybe I should teach you your place again.”

You gulped, not answering but instead just staring at him, a cup frozen in your hand as Felix locks his eyes with your, tilting his head in a cocky manner. You harshly place the cup down, storming out into the area where racks upon racks displayed the many tea sorts that were stashed away somewhere in the shop, Felix retrieving them earlier in the day. You start sorting through them, seeing a paper with orders on a clipboard and deciding to check the different kinds. Everything from oolong to pu’er to herbal was lined up in both teabags or loose tea leafs and surprisingly Felix did a good job, everything displayed in pretty and uniform lines. Before you could put a dash for a variety of tea that was missing. Felix sticks his head in between the beaded strings of the curtain, his eyes twinkling.

“Want some tea?”

For the first time he seemed cute. Not scary or intimidating, just cute. By the way his blonde locks fell infront of his face to the way his earrings were jingling, fading out to his angular facial structure.

You nod shyly, placing the clipboard on a random shelf before scooting over to the kitchen, seeing that Felix had placed out a white teapot with cobalt blue details, a floral pattern that contradicted to the eggshell white base. On the counter stood a small brown paperbag with black tea and right next to it a small tray of white sugarcubes.

“This seems awfully complicated for making tea” you say, looking at the red kettle boiling on the stove, there not being an electric kettle in this old establishment.

“What you expect? That I’ll be satisfied with you serving some watered down tea from a teabag? There’s a process you know.”

“Wow, and this is coming from Lee Felix? The son of a rich man and also the schools scumbag?”

Felix snaps his towards you, previously looking at the piping hot kettle. He licked the inside of his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose, turning his cheek towards his shoulder, a momentary pop being heard before he looked at you with his dark eyes.

“I’m being nice, take that to your advantage and I’ll break your kneecaps”

You nodded and he smiled, astonished by the duality of this man.

“Are you just gonna stand there? Come closer”

You stepped closer to the counter, your breath hitching when you felt Felix’s chest again your back, his hands leaning against the counter and trapping you between the two. You swallowed harshly, eyes darting over the various equipment needed to make a simple cup of tea.

“Open the tea pot maybe?”

Felix said, sighing. You feeling his warm breath against the outer shell of your ear, his voice sounding even more dangerous when it was right beside you. You grabbed the blue detailed teapot and opened it, only to see a metal strainer already a part of the pot. Doubtfully you grabbed the little packet of loose leaf tea, removing and placing down the clip that was hindering it’s aroma from escaping the luxurious leafs. The fragrence of the tea hit your senses, the smell almost addictive.

“What tea is this?”

You said, turning the bag in you hand, looking for any type of lettering that would bring you closer to an answer.

“Russian earl grey. It contains bergamot orange making it more pungent”

You hummed, being to scared to turn around and face him, you now zoning out whilst your eyes were stuck on the awfully colored tiles on the kitchen wall.

“You’re supposed to drink it y/n, not smell it”

Felix stated causing you to snap out and notice that you’ve been holding the bag to your nose, scrunching your nose ever so often.

“Oh yeah,,, right,,, sorry. How much should I put in?”

You say, tilting the bag and slowly watching dark colored particles spill into the metal strainer. Felix slowly put his hand on yours, tilting the bag even more. You could feel your heart in your throat, your hands starting to sweat from his close proximity. His hand was warm for such a cold person.

“It’s supposed to fill up one third of the strainer, remember that”

You mewled out a quiet “yes” as he put the bag down, removing his hand from yours. The next step was obvious, filling up the tea pot with hot water. Just as you were about to grab the black handle of the shiny red kettle Felix smacked your hand away, him grabbing it instead.

“It’s hot and I can’t trust someone as stupid as you with it”

“I can grab a kettle you know? I’m not that weak-”

“Shut it”

You pressed your lips shut as Felix pressed himself against your back, carefully reaching and pouring in the steaming water and seeing the water droplets diffuse up into the atmosphere. He carefully put the lid back on the pot and backed away as he put the kettle back on the stove, turning it off.

“What do we do now?”

You asked, turning around and leaning your butt against the cold counter.

“We wait for 5 minutes, the steeping time is different for different teas, you’ll have to learn them when working here.”

You nod attentively, staring down at your shoes and turning your heels against the dark wooden floorboards.

“I wanna change the deal y/n”

Your head shot up to the blonde boy, him standing close by in all his glory, not wearing his school uniform but instead a black t-shirt, of course having a obnoxiously loud designer logo in the front just like the belt that was resting on top of his black slacks. His bracelets jingled everytime he moved his hands, this time wearing dainty silver rings to match with his wristwatch and shining piercings.

“W-what why? Are you gonna fire me?”

Blood was boiling in your veins, not knowing his intentions yet but knowing that they were just as sinister as the boy himself. Before you knew it his lips were attached on yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, knuckles whitening as you held onto the counter from sheer panic. His lips were softer than expected, pressing gently as he tilted his head, his eyelashes feathering over his closed lids. His hands traveled up your clothed body, exploring every inch of you. The soft sound of lips smacking against each other ignited a feeling deep in your core. You were pushed closer to the edge of the counter, his body so close, leaving you with no choice but to jump up on the metal surface. The coldness radiated through the thin fabric of your pleated skirt, hitting your aching cunt that was already dripping from Felix’s simple actions, his daunting aura clouding your mind with sinful thoughts.

“I’ll raise your pay if you fuck me, please y/n”

He whispers against your plush lips. You hummed, hesitating before slowly nodding, not being able to think clear with your heart beating like it’s about to protrude from your chest. He smiles slyly before reattaching his lips onto yours, his wet and sharp tongue running over your swollen bottom lip, desperatly wanting to taste your tongue. Your lips parted as you moaned into the kiss, giving him the perfect opportunity to pry himself into your mouth, the kiss getting sloppier, Felix growing needier as the seconds on the large clock on top of the door frame ticked. The blonde boy placed himself inbetween your legs, his veiny hands placed on your knees, seperating your already shivering legs. Without knowing what you were doing you cupped Felix’s cheeks, feeling the sharpness of his jaw against your soft hands.

Why did you pull him closer? He’d hurt you so bad in the past, everyday was living hell because of him and his deeds. A lightheadedness hit you as memories scrolled past your consciousness. Memories still painful, tender as open wounds. But for him you could forgive anything. Forget, just to see him smile at you.

His cologne was strangely addictive, the musky smell mixed with the scent of his soft sunkissed skin. You moaned softly against his lips as his fingers traced lightly over your exposed panties, the skirt already folded up your thighs. He hummed in delight, feeling the soaked fabric sticking against your pulsating cunt.

“I’ve waited for this for so long y/n”

You looked at him with confusion in your glossy eyes. Waited, for you?

Within a matter of seconds his fingers pushed aside the wet patch of fabric shielding you from the cold air, only to insert a finger inside of your desperate hole causing you to gasp. A second finger joined close by and Felix groaned, feeling your tight walls around his glistening digits. You had so many questions but not enough power to say them without stuttering.

“W-waited for,,, m-me?”

His fingers curled upwards as you finished your sentence causing you to grip his wrist, the squelching sound of your pussy pleasing the blonde boy as he pumped his fingers into you relentlessly.

“That’s how I get attention. You aren’t impressed by materialistic things so I did what I had to”

You couldn’t believe your ears. All that to get your attention? He succeeded but he would never understand the emotions you went through because of him. The hatered you thought would never melt away suddenly did, you becoming nothing more but a whimpering mess from his touch.

A thump was heard from your head hitting the cupboard, the pleasure firing through your body as your small cries echoed throughout the small kitchen. A sudden feeling of emptiness caused you to sigh in both relief and frustration. Your previously shut eyes slowly drifted open, panicked when you see Felix unbuckling his belt, letting both the fabric of his pants and underwear fall to the dim floor.

Somehow his leaking cock looked prettier this time around, the shiny piercing distracting to the eye. Your mouth watered embarrassingly enough, turning your gaze to the ticking clock until Felix cleared his throat, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed his spit. He looked nervous which was unfamilliar, the boy always being persistant with his cocky mannerisms. Felix pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, your face heating up as your legs were spread wide open for him. There was nowhere you could hide your flushed face and Felix took this to his advantage.

“Huh? Shy, babygirl?”

You gulped as you watched him stroke himself, the crimson colored tip disappearing only to reappear seconds later. Your eyes shut tightly as he moved the slick-stained panties to the side, anticipating to be filled to the brim from his impressive size. Mouth agape, Felix pushed into your wet hole, your hands gripping his broad shoulder in order to hinder a loud moan.

“fuck y/n,,, you’re so tight, s-shit”

You couldn’t answer, still adjusting your velvety walls around him. As the pain subsided your core ached for friction, needing to feel him deep inside of you. Your arms wrapped around the boy, pulling him closer to your heated body making him smirk slyly before carefully pulling away, only his tip resting inside of you. Just as you were about to sigh due to emptiness he slammed inside of you, your entire body shaking from the impact. Panting, you begged for more, begging for him to go faster.

“F-felix! faster,,, please”

Your warm face was buried deep in his shoulder, his slightly cold hands gripping your hips tightly, starting to roll against your throbbing cunt earning small mewls from between your swollen lips. The counter creaked with each thrust that grew louder as his pace got faster, feeling your delicate walls clench around his veiny length, his silver earrings dangling from his lobes. Felix explored parts of your body even you hadn’t felt, his dick prodding you deep enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, biting down on his shirt.

The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, your weakening legs wrapping around his figure, trapping him inside of you but the blonde boy had no plans of stopping. Sweat beaded around his temples, his previously serious expressing turning into a grin as he adored your moans, words falling out in incomprehensible syllables. You were close and so was Felix.

The pit of fire grew violent deep in your core, holding the young boy tighter to your body, clawing his clothed back. Every thrust had it’s impact, shaking you up and forcing shameless moans out from your throat that were being muffled by the fabric between your lips. The two of you moaned in unison, Felix’s deep mutters getting louder, his vicious thrusts becoming sloppier and uneven, desperate for his sweet release. You clenched around him involuntarily, trying to hold back from screaming, glad that your warm face was between his shoulder and neck so that he couldn’t see your fucked out expression. His name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, mind blank as your eyes were squeezed shut.

“Felix, i-im gonna c-cum! im-m cumming!”

The wall seperating you from your orgasm collapsed, leaving you with a powerful sensation washing over you. Your legs shook, struggling to keep your legs wrapped around him but soon enough you wouldn’t have to. Felix thrusted into you one final time, sending a shiver down your spine and overstimulating you before pulling out, his dick glistening with your erotic juices as he fucked his hand, hot spurts of cum leaking out. He growled, scrunching his forehead as he released on your shaking thighs, one last droplet of cum descending down his shaft and coating the shiny piercing that decorated his pretty cock.

You panted, still processing what just happened, looking at Felix that unwrapped his hand from around his member, dick turning flaccid. You lifted yourself off the counter, only then realising how weak your legs were, not letting go of the surface you just fucked on.

“Is this a one time thing or,,,”

You start, not really knowing what to say afterwards. Felix cleared his throat, putting on his pants as you fixed your dark skirt, back against the boy.

“Let’s be friends”

You turned around, gazing at Felix as he looked down at the grimy floor.

“I’ll stop,,, bothering you, now we’re friends,,, with benefits but it’s a secret, understand?”

Every sentence this man spoke sounded serious with his deep voice but this was serious, for real.

“Why should I? Why should I agree, Felix? So that you can play around with me even more, make me your little shy puppet? I’m not having it!!”

You yelled at the boy, his expression deadpan as you hit him in the abdomen, instantly regretting it as your knuckles hit his rock hard abs. Frustration clouded your mind, wanting to break every single piece of porcelain in the narrow kitchen. Instead you broke yourself apart. Crying in front of Felix like you’d done so many times before, dropping to the floor and feeling the cold material against your bare thigh. This feeling, so familiar. Felix gazing down on you like you we’re worth nothing more than the ground.

Only this time he didn’t only stand and stare.

His arms wrapped around your quivering figure, his embrace warmer than his face.

“I’m sorry, y/n”

His voice shook as the silence overtook the both of you, the quiet ticking of the clock interupting.

“Hm? Look at me, y/n”

Felix pulled away from you, sitting on the floor next to you, watching your head hang low as he gently put a hand on your jaw, lifting your gaze up to meet his.

“I’m fucking stupid, I know. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that but,,, I didn’t know how- how to get closer to you.”

He swiped the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears.

“I will never hurt you ever again, y/n. We- we can work here and just,,, do stuff.”

You knew exactly what he meant by “stuff” but somehow you trusted him. You trusted him because you had no one else to trust.

“But one rule” he said.

You tilted your head, wondering what his rule was.

“No falling in love”

You hummed, nodding as you wiped your tearstained cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt, cracking a smile at your own vulnerability. Felix stood up and you looked up at him, feeling small but not afraid.

“So what do you say, y/n?”

He offered you his hand, you couldn’t stop looking into his secretive eyes that slowly turned mellow.

You grabbed his hand, passing it as a yes to his question.

But the both of you knew that the rule would be broken soon, like the brittle edge of a teacup.

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #skzsmut #skz fanfic #skz imagines #lee felix smut #felix smut #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x stay #stray kids x female reader #skz x y/n #skz x stay #skz x reader #skz x you #kpop smut

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joyaphoria · 3 years

Text

the five chances you give him (5)

pairing: suna x f!reader

note: this is the last chapter! i hope you all enjoyed :)

summary: suna knew that he was doing something wrong, but he refused to acknowledge it. therefore, you slowly dropped five major hints for him, hoping that he would notice them and take action to fix your broken relationship. suna really did notice them, he just didn’t figure out in time that you were actually going to leave.

series masterlist | directory

part five: rin became rintaro; then it became suna

"oh baby... nobody said that it was going to be easy." mei cooed, her voice softer than usual. she repeatedly kissed the top of your head as you cried into her lap.

"i k-know but.." you spoke through your sobs, snot along your sleeves. "i-i really hoped t-that he would ch-change.."

it's been just over two months since you've started changing your behaviour around rin, but he didn't seem to react to it—no, he may have changed, but only a bit. it wasn't enough.

you knew that this was unavoidable, and that it had to be done. the longer it takes for you to get this over with, the longer it will take for you to get over it.

so when mei sent you home that night, she reassured you that it will all be worth it in the end, and that you will find someone better.

but the fact that he was waiting for you at the same table that you used to wait at, every single night, didn't help at all.

"where were you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

you stood there for a second with your shoes still on, and folded over with laughter.

his heart flutters. whens the last time you laughed in front of him?

"sorry," you sniffled through the laughter, the aftermath from crying earlier doing you no justice. "it's just that i used to sit in that same chair, waiting for you to come home, you know?"

hesitating for a moment, he decided on getting up and walking over to you, although he didn't know what to do.

"y/n." he's looking down at you now, resisting the urge to reach out and take hold of your hands.

"rintarou."

now that caught both of you off guard.

it slipped out without a second thought on your end, and you were visibly shocked.

as was suna, except he was more afraid than anything else. he knew what this meant—he was no longer rin to you, but rintarou.

he should be grateful though, because he knew what eventually might come next. he knew that it wouldn't be rintarou for long, and that as soon as it changes, it would be over; everything would be over.

"were you crying?" he whispers, reaching out to wipe at your tear stained cheeks. except you wouldn't let him, grabbing his wrist in time. God—mei would be so proud; as would that kind lady from the cafe.

"why should you care?" you spat, letting go of his wrist to remove your shoes.

"because im your boyfriend." he said, although you didn't miss the quiver in his voice from that last word, as if he wasn't so sure anymore.

you move past him and head straight for the bathroom; but suna didn't miss it. he heard what you mumbled on your way out—and it had him slumped against the wall (when you were out of sight, that is)

his fists are clenched and his heart is beating a little too fast, but he can't get his mind off of what you said.

"yea, well not for long"

five words, and yet they seemed to foreshadow his future.

there were two possible reasons that you could be waking him up at 10 in the morning.

you were either waking him up to tell him that it was over, and that you were leaving, or that it was over, and that he had to leave.

turns out there was a third reason.

"do you have practice today?" you asked, your voice a whisper.

"yeah.. why?" he got up into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. its been a while since you last entered this room, moving all your things to the guest room.

"oh. nevermind." you make a gesture to leave but he panics and grabs your arm. this could be an opportunity, and he wasn't about to lose it.

"i could um.. take the day off." he nods his head.

"are you sure?" when he nods his head yet again, your features soften.

"okay, well get dressed. i feel like going to a theme park."

you leave the room before he has a chance to answer, but he complies anyways.

his mind wanders to the picture that he broke in the heat of the moment awhile back—the one where you were both smiling at an amusement park, kids laughing in the bakground.

"let's go on that one!" you exclaim, pointing at the rollercoaster.

a soft grin takes over your face—and while it may not be your typical energetic one, at least it was still there.

now, suna wasn't a big fan of rollercoasters. he prefered to have you go on them, while he took the photos, but today's been the first time in a while that he's actually seen you happy, and he wanted to keep it that way.

you've been here all day, and it was already pretty dark, so they might be closing soon anyways.

when the cart had finally come back around, you and rin got on, with a guy slipping in on your side.

"you guys here together?" he asked, looking over you to make eye contact with suna.

you nodded, and he chuckled.

"im here with my girlfriend, but she doesn't like roller coasters as much as i do."

now you and him are making small talk, and suna is resisting the urge to tell the guy to shut up, and to go back to his own girlfriend.

when the ride finally starts, he feels relieved, even slipping his hand into your own.

your hand tenses, and he looks up to find a look of guilt soaked into your features.

he quickly unravels his hand from yours, settling it into his lap and looking away. he got too carried away to remember that a day of rides and fun wasnt enough to fix his mistakes.

as the ride starts climbing upwards, fear pumps through his veins.

he shuts his eyes, dreading the fall.

when it finally came, he opened his eyes and hugged himself to keep from screaming.

he looks over to you, and his heart does that thing again—it flutters.

with your hands in the air, your screams adorning his ears, he fell in love. all over again.

the moonlight caressed your pretty features as your eyes shut in pure bliss, and suna found tears falling out of his own.

the tears fell but he didn't sob—not once. you didn't look his way either—not once.

instead he looked away, quickly wiping the tears before someone could catch him. he missed this; he missed you.

when you two got off the ride later, he wonders if you would ever go to another theme park with him.

when you decide to leave, suna finds an employee walking around the park with a polaroid camera.

he asks him to take a picture of you, and places it in his wallet. he can't break it this time.

suna misses the look of guilt that slips past your face, as if it were never there.

when the car pulls into the parking lot, and you both get out, suna realizes that you weren't walking beside him.

he panics and turns around, where he finds you smiling. tears in your eyes.

"thank you for today, suna."

he freezes. he can't move anymore. he can't think.

"don't be silly. let's go inside." he's walking again, but when he doesn't hear a second set of footsteps, the tears wash over him.

"why aren't you coming?" his voice cracks as the tears stream down his face.

"i'm going to mei's. it's-it's over." you smile, wiping continuously at your eyes.

"y/n please, we can talk about this." he's running over to you, taking hold of your shoulders as he bends down to make eye contact. "we're fixable, okay? i promise we are." he doesn't make move to wipe away the tears that are falling.

you wipe away his tears, pulling him into a hug. "i'm so sorry."

he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, afraid of having you slip out of his grasp. "please, don't leave me. i'll do anything, just give me another chance. i need you."

you wriggle out of his arms, and his fists clench at his sides.

"i gave you chances. i gave you too many. i have to go."

you're running now, and he can't decide if he should run after you or not. has he not caused you enough pain?

instead, he falls to his knees and cries.

that was it. he lost you—he lost everything.

the polaroid picture was burning a hole through his wallet.

when he finally musters up the courage to check the guest room a few days later, he sees all your things packed up in boxes.

you had it all planned out, didn't you?

when mei comes later that day to pick up your things, she finds suna curled into a ball on the guest room floor.

"suna. wake up."

his eyes open slowly, and she finds them red, his eyebags puffy and cheeks tear-stained.

"is y/n gonna come back?" he asks, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

mei shakes her head, and suna cries again.

she looks away, thanking the heavens that she wasn't in a relationship. she couldn't help but pity him as she collected her best friend's things, suna's sobs as a sort of background noise.

she couldn't be surprised—the lost of your entire world was enough to make any grown man cry.

heartbreak isn’t easy, but suna’s heart hurts without you. where he sleeps, where he bathes, it all reeks of your touch.

you’re everywhere here, all memories playing back to him like a movie. he’s reminded of you, and recovering addicts don’t test themselves; they dont stay around said addiction to see if they can restrain themselves.

and so suna moves out, running from the place that you’ve drenched in your presence.

he leaves the polaroid picture on the table.

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keijifairy · 4 years

Text

accidentally hitting your face with a volleyball 〃

♡ miya atsumu, miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi

genre. fluff

-`,✎ ❝ hi! i saw your "accidentally hitting your face with a volleyball" hcs and i was wondering if you could do it for miya twins and sakusa too? have a nice day ♡ ❞ @wansseul

author's note. this took a hot min 😔 but thank you for waiting 💞 miya twins and omi ?? yes please 😽

+ this was a bit different than the first one but i hope u still like it !! 💗

༘ miya atsumu

━ you've met miya atsumu before, and you like to think it was some sort of cute meet you read about, but looking back into it, bumping into him in a hallway at nationals when you only wanted to refill some water bottles was kinda embarrassing, and the sweat dripping down your temple and your hair a hot mess was definitely not cute at all.

━ so you don't think about how he handed you the water bottles with your fingers making contact as he flashes you a stupidly boyish smirk, saying something along the cliche lines of "be careful next time. wouldn't want ya falling for someone else." and his eyes lingering on you a bit longer than you could handle as if you're in some fanfiction.

━ you only bowed your head hastily, trying to hide the flush on your cheeks as you thank him for what seemed to be the millionth time and run away. because you're not going to see him again, right?

━ but then you remember! that handsome man with an awfully familiar black jersey that you made a fool of yourself in front of…is from..inarizaki..and karasuno is competing with them...aaaand he's just standing across the court...

━ you try to erase any memory of your little encounter with him not even fifteen minutes ago, as you busy yourself with your team and hopefully, he doesn't spot you. little did you know though, he didn't miss you cheering for his opponents (well, duh) on the corner of his eye. (how could he miss you? you were a bit obvious with how you sneakily catch glimpes of him, and mayhaps, that inflated his ego a bit).

━ hear him out! he was only trying to impress you, okay? but that didn't really work out as luck didn't seem to be by his (and your) side today as the ball he slams onto the other side of the net doesn't land on the court, but instead on your face.

━ there was an attempt. a for effort!!

━ "nice going, dumbass." osamu deadpans from behind him, some trying to stifle their cackle at their teammate's poor attempt while the rest wince when they hear you groaning in pain.

━ the karasuno boys immediately start rushing towards you, but when they see miya atsumu strolling towards them, they halt in their tracks. (don't be fooled, he's close to melting into a puddle in shame under all that suave exterior).

━ he holds his hand out with concern masked by the same stupidly boyish smirk that's been taking up your mind as you purse your lips and reluctantly take his hand — and you suddenly feel like passing out any minute (the ball in your face may not be the reason).

━ "this must be what fate feels like."

━ you warily chuckle, letting go of his hand as you clutch your forehead. "if a ball getting slammed into your face is what you call fate, then i guess...yeah."

━ honestly, you're just thankful the cameras aren't rolling. there might be some people recording this ridiculous scene, but you think you're way past the humiliation.

━ "sorry about that." he silently winces as he not so subtly stares at the patch of red on your skin. "let's take ya to a nurse."

━ "it's fine," your shoulders lifted in a shrug, "and no thank you. i don't think my boys would...like that—" you look over your shoulder with a giggle and atsumu follows, only to see karasuno (not so subtly) glaring daggers at him— "and it seems like your game is starting soon anyway."

━ he only chuckles, turning his focus back to you and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. "let's see who you'll be calling your boy later then."

━ you sputter out a laugh in disbelief, as he shoots you a wave with his other hand resting on his hip. "cheer for me, yeah? i'll help ya get that treated once we're done."

━ "this is embarrassing." osamu murmurs to himself in the background with a roll of his eyes.

༘ miya osamu

━ you were only wandering around inarizaki after your own after school club had ended while waiting for your friends, but as you pass by the open doors of the school gymnasium and hear voices that seem to be fighting, you sneakily poke your head in.

━ "why do you look like that???"

━ "we're twins, dumb fuck."

━ you raise your eyebrow, stifling the chuckle from your throat in amusement. are they the miya twins the girls are obsessively squealing over in their daily hallway gossip? they seem...entertaining. huh, you probably should've paid more attention to your classmates.

━ too busy with their bickering, the twins and the other boys don't seem to notice a random student hanging by the doorway. you should've made your presence known, because it is the volleyball club and that means balls would be flying around the gym.

━ osamu throws a ball in atsumu's direction, but the latter quickly moves out of the way. "hey!"

━ and there comes the ball flying towards you.

━ "who's the dumbass now?"

━ "still you."

━ osamu ignores how his twin flips him off as soon as he turns his back on him. he quietly approaches you, reaching out his hand. "sorry, that was meant for that idiot—" he juts his chin at atsumu's direction— "over there."

━ "it wasn't me who hit them!"

━ you blink, mindlessly clasping your hand with his as he lifts you up. warm. you think to yourself, feeling heat creep up your neck. but he lets go as you get up, and you weirdly come to miss the feeling of his hand with yours.

━ perhaps the ball might have hit your head a bit too hard but you suddenly wonder, did you always have an attractive boy like miya osamu at your school?

━ "you have really pretty eyes," you mumble, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could even process what's happening and certainly loud and clear enough for him to hear. a twinkle of amusement flashes in his eyes and you see a small quirk in his lips. "i must've hit ya harder than i thought."

━ your eyes slowly widen, finally snapping out of whatever love at first sight moment you just experienced. it dart anywhere, anywhere but that growing smirk in his lips that mimick his twin's (but atsumu looks like he's about to have a laughing fit any second).

━ "i...i mean..." stop talking "im to-totally fine! a-okay!!" a-okay???? "don't wor...worry it's uh not that bad… um i think i uh have to g-go n..now…"

━ osamu tilts his head, and you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest because you didn't think he would be this cute !?? UM ?? those girls weren't exaggerating ???

━ "your eyes are really pretty too."

━ he simply nods his head like he didn't just make your heart race with one simple sentence, turning his back away from you but you don't miss the small smile tugging up his lips.

━ he walks back to the court, with atsumu saying something to him that's surely about what just happened but you don't care, you think.

━ miya osamu just accidentally hit you with a ball and called your eyes pretty.

━ you purse your lips, trying to suppress a squeal as you slowly walk away and exit the gym.

━ "that was some shitty romcom scene that i almost barfed. i was hoping for more action." atsumu's laughter boomed around the walls, and osamu shut him up with a ball in his face.

༘ sakusa kiyoomi

━ "omi, can you teach me how to spike like you?"

━ "no."

━ you gasp dramatically, clutching your shirt where your heart is supposed to be for extra effect, but kiyoomi doesn't even spare you another glance. "tch, rude."

━ shouyou runs up to you, a ball in his hands and a smile reaching up to his eyes. "i'll teach you, y/n!"

━ you childishly stick your tongue out towards kiyoomi, who does nothing but continue to ignore you as he fixes his stance in the court. huffing, you turn back to shouyou and mimic his smile. "heh, thanks!"

━ you are the beloved manager of the msby black jackals, and it's kinda like babysitting grown men plus not so secretly crushing on the gorgeous sakusa kiyoomi, but it's a job that you've grown accustomed to and actually enjoy. they're taking a well deserved break, but kiyoomi is still practicing his spikes while shoyou try teaching you how to do them. honestly, were you even listening to him? not really.

━ you're only nodding wordlessly as your eyes shamelessly focus on how kiyoomi rears his hand back as the ball seems to be falling in the air, slow motion style (and that makes it cooler, you know?). you swear your eyes are sparkling as he flicks his wrist and effortlessly hits the ball.

━ you don't know when you've moved close to where he's spiking, but he only notices you still dazed just as the ball slams into your face.

━ "WAAAH, [Y/N]!!!" the impact of the ball had you dropping to the floor, and you feel your eyes immediately tear up. the boys run towards you, with koutarou placing your head on his lap as he cradles your face in his hands like you're a small child. "where does it hurt???"

━ you wince as he squishes your cheeks on his palms. "my face, duh."

━ "rule one, don't aim for the opponent's face." you look up to see kiyoomi towering over you, and you don't know if you're hallucinating but you swear, his eyes soften.

━ "oh," you jut your bottom lip, sitting properly with koutarou supporting your back, "so that was part of a lesson?"

━ "no." he heaves a sigh. "i'm sorry."

━ you bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to show as you suddenly feel weirdly giddy after getting hit by a ball. nonetheless, you wipe the tears in your eyes with the back of your palms as you bounce back to your feet (well, wobbled, but the boys supported you <3), and you really couldn't hide the smile at this point. "it's okay, omi."

━ his brows knitted in a frown. "...are you okay?"

━ "aw, you do care~"

━ he blinks. once. twice. (the boys don't really do a good job in stifling their laughter). sakusa kiyoomi does care actually, but that's not something he's just going to say right in your face, you know?

━ you playfully roll your eyes, flashing him a thumbs up. "it actually doesn't hurt like i thought it would!" even as you rub your forehead to try and soothe the pain, the smile doesn't leave your face and kiyoomi feels his heart hammering in his chest like some lovesick fool (and that, he definitely isn't!) "well, it does hurt, but i feel energized more than anything!"

━ you're pretty weird, he thinks, but it's quite endearing in a way and it's something that he adores about you. so for now, he swallows the words he's been dying to say, picking up the ball as he looks straight into your eyes. "come on, i'll show you the proper way to spike."

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midday0nightmares · 3 years

Photo

31 - a week later.

Previous chapter a rat.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

3 days after.

“Jeno .. can I ask you something?”

“Sure” he replied,

jeno too has changed, he has become more caring towards you like he was stepping to fill jaemins place, while jaemin was occupied.

Jeno was more controlled, he didn’t show much, if you didn’t know what had happen you would have believed everything was fine.

“What’s gonna happen to me if..? You know” ,

you leave the questions unfinished, but jeno understands what you wanted to ask.

His mouth opens to speak but closes shut again, he takes a minute to think before he answers “I don’t know”.

His honesty although appreciated didn’t help at all.

“but, I will do my best to make sure you’er taking care of” he reach to hold your hand over the table, gently squeezing it to reassure you.

5 days after.

You saw less and less of jaemin.

The stress of it all was getting to you too, you were agitated.. you blamed it all on jeno.

“Why don’t you just confess?”,

your question was loaded with hostility.

He looked at you, a desperate look on his face, he told you over and over but still he tells you again,

”it’s complicated sera”.

You scoff, his answer seemed more like an excuse than a genuine answer. “what’s complicated? You did it, you are the one who should be facing life in prison not him” you pointed at jaemin’s closed door.

He exhales, his eyes close “you don’t know what you’er talking about”.

“You killed him!” You contain to argue but he gets up and leave, ending the conversation.

Tears of anger pooled in your eyes, this is another level of injustice.

6 days after.

You were quietly munching on your cereal, jeno sat across form you sipping on his bitter coffee.

The mood was tense, unstable.

The neglected tv flashed a breaking news strip that caught your attention, it was about the murder in a diplomatic’s son house, “turn the volume up” you ushered jeno.

“.. it has been determined that the leased apartment falls under diplomatic amenity and no further investigations could be carried”

You looked at jeno, “dose it mean that they’er closing the case?” You asked, carful not to get your hopes up, he remind quiet for a minute before he nods “ yup, I guess they are”.

You jumped out of your seat, squealing with happiness “yes! Yess thank god” you grabbed his arm to share the joy but he didn’t move.

He wasn’t happy, nor relieved.. he didn’t seems to feel any thing.

You top your small celebration, “what?” You asked.

“Nothing” he stood up ready to leave, “clean up when you’er done”.

he leaves you to your wild thoughts to run the worst case scenarios.

Today

The week slowly rolled over with much tension and uncertainty, jaemin has been called to the police station couple more times, you swear each time he comes back, he has aged years.

You wanted to be by his side but he didn’t even look at you when you tried to call him this morning, if he’s not out then he’s locking himself in his room. you tried knocking on his door, to get him to at least eat a proper meal but he didn’t answer. Each attempt has been met with either complete silence or a sharp temper, he would lash at you then quickly apologize.

This is not how you wanted your first semester to begin, you attended the first week of your online classes but you couldn’t really focus on what has been said, not with a disaster hanging above your head ready to drop at any minute.

And as much as you wanted to blame it all on jeno, you couldn’t anymore. The case is closed, but why is jaemin still being investigated? Could it be because of you? Did the police knew you were taken? Was it your fault?.. you tossed and turned in your bed, it felt cold and empty without him, you missed him so much. After a long string of pillow thoughts, slumber finally took mercy over you.

“y\n..”

An unfamiliar voice calls your name.

“y\n”

the whisper gets louder, your body tip over and fall off of an edge to an endless darkness.. you jerk out of the nightmare, drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

You clam yourself and push the heavy covers off of you, dragging your feet to the kitchen for some water, you don’t bother turning the lights on, you open the fridge door and take a bottle. The icy water clears the clouds in your mind only for the grim reality to take its place, jaemin might be taken away.. you dwell on the scary thought.

You turn your head to see the lights of jaemins room were on, your heart clinches, he’s still awake at this ungodly hour.

Opting not bother him, you head back to your lonely bed, but the dark figure in the balcony almost gave you a heart attack.

You recognize the man, it’s jaemin.. his tall figure was standing in the dark, the phone was pressed to his ear, his demeanor was agitated, shifting his weight form one foot to the other, you couldn’t hear anything but you can tell he wasn’t happy.

You turn to see if jeno was in his room, his lights were off and his shoes were by the door. you always had the impression that they were close, partners in crime. they did all their nasty work together, but why is it only jaemin who is in this mess right now?.

“You can’t be serious !”

Jaemin’s loud voice comes clear through the thick glass, his hand running through his hair seemingly wanting to rip it from the roots out of frustration. You can tell he was angry, desperate.. he keeps shouting but you can’t make out what he was saying. you step closer, as close as you can without being seen by him, you try to decipher his muffled voice,

“I am your son! Your only son”

you’er not sure if that’s what he said..

He speaks in a lower voice before he removes the phone from his ear, ending the call. He punches the wall next to him, he was beyond pissed.

You move to hide behind the curtain to avid angering him more, he opens the door and steps inside slamming the glass door behind him.

“I can see you” he deadpan says in the dark, since there’s no one other than you, he must be talking to you and you make the quick decision of coming out before he losses his temper.

“Im sorry, I had a nightmare and I got up to drink wa..” You try to explain yourself but he waves his hand with not much care “Yeah yeah” and you stop talking.. he walks to his room, the dull city lights illuminating his backside, his shoulders were slumped, his back hunched with heavy burden, the sight of him broken made your heart twist inside your ribcage.

“Jaemin” you call him without a plane, he stops and looks at you, “Are you okay?”, stupid question..

Although it’s dark, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your face.

“Do I look okay?” He retorts,

You answered him with a small “no”

he turns to walk to his room but you speak again, “I can help you if you tell me what wrong”, bold statement.

He stops again and heavy sighs, your heart thumbs in your chest as you wait for him to speak, but all you get was a scoff, “why don’t you just know your place huh?” he asks with much condecindence, although you know he didn’t mean it, his words still hurts.

“Just stay out of my way, you have done enough already” he adds more sharp words, twisting the planted knife in your heart.

“I just wanted to help you and be here for you” your voice breaks and you hate yourself for it, but you chock and the tears starts to gather in your eyes, he huffs and looks up to the ceiling, impatiently waiting for you to recompose yourself. But his cold nonchalant demeanor triggers more eruptions inside of you.

the words escapes your mouth before you have thought of them.. “all I wanted was to help you, but you keep me away form you! you don’t tell me anything, no one is telling me anything! I don’t know what is happing or if I will see you when wake up the next day” you rant through the sobs, your voice getting louder and louder, and when he was fed up with you he shuts you down with a loud scream “shut up”.

Jeno comes out of his room, bewildered and alert.. he stands in the background watching the fight evolves.

“You are not my girlfriend” he walks towards you, making you feel small and insignificant, “I don’t own you anything” his tall stature looms over your short one, that cuts deep.

you look at him, you stare into his eyes, challenging him to take what he said back but he doesn’t.

“Yeah?” Your voice barely comes out, “fine then I guess I have no reason to stay here anymore”. you turn and stomp to where your bed is to collect your few belongings, he follows behind, his steps shaking the ground beneath you.

“where the fuck do you think you’er doing?” He asks but you ignore him, more so you couldn’t speak due to the choking knot in your throat, but your lack or response angers him even more, he grabs your arm and turns you around with much force, that it almost dislocates your shoulder, you whimper at the pain but he doesn’t care, his grip tightening even more, his eyes glazed with a dark, sinister layer.

“Jaemin!” Jeno warns, but it does nothing as another screaming match breaks between you, with him asking you the same question, not really waiting for an answer, and you shouting whatever comes to your mind first, curses, accusation, anything to hurt him. you don’t know who started it first but hands were being thrown, jeno was trying to break you apart, but eventually, jaemin overpowered you and threw you over his shoulder like a rag doll, your kicking and screaming did nothing against him.

“Jaemin” jeno shouted at his friend who was in a trance, muttering the filthiest insults under his breath.

“Where are you going? Jaemin!” jeno tries to reason with him. at this point jaemin was like a robot, marching to his room, he kicks the door to his bedroom open, he slams you to his bed, knocking the wind out of you.

“Jaemin! Calm down” jeno was trying to stop whatever jaemin was doing, he kneels and opens his safe, jeno’s voice getting louder, you were paralyzed with fear everything is happing so fast for your brain to form a response.

Jeno was trying to pry jaemin’s hands out of the safe, “come on! don’t do something you’ll regret”, jeno was almost begging him to stop.

jaemin finally broke out of his trance and turned to jeno “get out!”,

but jeno stood in his place like a pillar, his presence seems to clam jaemin, he takes a deep breath and pushes his hair back “I know what im doing” he speaks calmly this time before he turns back to you, you swallow the thick knot “jaemin please..” pleadings to spare your life were timid but loud enough to be heard, your body crawls as far away from him before the wall stops you.

He kneels down and reaches again inside the safe, for a second the time has stoped, everything moved in slow motion.

He takes out a metal handcuffs out of the safe, the blood that was frozen in your vines moved again, you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding.. jeno does the same “fuck..” he must have thought the same, he too believed jaemin was about to kill you.

Your limbs fell weak and cold due to the withdrawal of the adrenaline that filled your bloodstream, you feel sick, dizzy.

The bed dips under jaemin’s weight next to you, your head falls back into his soft pillows, aimless tears rolls down your temples, you give him your hands to cuff. you are worn out, you surrender.

He takes both of your arms and cuffs them to the headboard of his bed, your eyes meet, you don’t look away and neither does he. He looks down at you.. his eyes pours inside of your soul.

Dark circles beneath his eyes, dry lips, heavy eyelids but still, still handsome as ever. he leans down to kiss your watery eyes, “for my sanity sake” he whispers between the kisses.

He throws his covers over you, and turns the lights off before he leaves and close the door behind him.

#nct dream #nct 127 #nct yandere #nct mafia #nct smut #nct fluff #nct jeno #nct jaemin #nct reactions #nct imagines #nct scenarios #lee jeno #na jaemin

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sunrisefairy · 3 years

Text

Cameras and crushes

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Warning: Alcohol, small mention of death, pure fluffiness

Summary: Y/N is used to being a background character someone you glaze over but never really notice. But more recently she longed for someone to see her, well she longed for a certain redhead to see her.

A/N: Wrote this for @theweasleysredhair writing challenge based off the prompt “You remembered?” very proud of this fic so i hope you love it as much as i do. All feedback is welcomed :))))

italics represent a flashback

Taglist: send me a message if you would like to be added @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines @klausdatprettyboi @georgeweasleyswhre

————————————————————————

Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. Growing up with 3 older and much louder brothers she was pretty happy with sticking to the sidelines, letting them be noisy and crazy while she kept to herself. Y/N grew up with mostly boys around her, her mother passed away when she was young. Y/N would always beg her brothers and her dad for stories of her mother, wanting to feel closer to her. Y/N’s dad would fondly retell memories of his beautiful wife, reminiscing on how witty and charismatic she was. He’d mention all the small, quirky things she would do which made him fall hard and fast for her. Y/N longed for that kind of love, she longed for someone to take notice of her in the way her dad did for her mum. Ever since Y/N was a little girl she yearned to be heard and seen but that proved difficult when you’re as shy and quiet as her.

Judging by most of the people in Y/N’s life she seemed to attract the boisterous types, guessing her quiet nature balanced them out. She loved her friends with her entire heart, even if their personalities were the opposite of hers, Y/N wouldn’t change their qualities if she could.

One of her friends, although still lively and vibrant as the others, also had a calm and tranquil side to him. George Weasley. Y/N had only known George for a few years having met at Lee Jordan’s 18th birthday 3 years ago. Somehow that night she had ended up climbing a tree with the tall redhead whom she had only met 30 minutes prior.

“How the hell did you get up to that branch?” Y/N mumbled, trying to figure out how to reach the higher branch where George Weasley was currently sitting, his long legs swinging back and forth as he chuckled at the girl below him.

“I used that branch sticking out there and then swung my leg up to get here.” George points to the branch to the girls left.

Y/N grunts as she attempts what George said but huffs and pouts her lip feeling defeated, “you forget that I have little legs, unlike you Mr. giraffe.”

George rolls his eyes and stretches his hand out, “try again, I’ll help pull you up.”

Somehow, George manages to pull Y/N up and they sit comfortably next to one another up high in the tree. “There you go little bunny, don’t go falling off now.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the nickname wishing she had brought her cider up with her feeling very self-conscious and unsure of what to do her shaking hands.

The pair fall into a comfortable silence, watching the party goers below them gathered around a very intoxicated birthday boy chanting as he chugs another beer, “we love to drink with Lee cause Lee is our mate and when we drink with Lee he gets it down in 8…7…”

Their voices drown out as George gently nudges Y/N’s shoulder pulling her attention back to him, “soo, Y/N I hear you’re not much of the talker?”

Y/N blushes hard grateful for the lack of light outside. “No I guess not. Not many are interested in what I have to say.”

George smiles, his eyes not leaving the girl beside him, “well I am. Tell me something.”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip nervously and looks back at the drunk crowd, “like what?”

George shrugs, he didn’t really mind what the conversation was about, he just wanted to hear the pretty girl speak. “I dunno, anything. Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

Y/N racks her brain for something to talk about, her palms getting sweaty from the long silence. Finally, she settles on something that always fills her with joy, her mother.

“Um okay so,” she starts staring at the leaves swaying in the tree, pushing down the anxiety. “Before my mother died she always had this film camera with her, my dad used to joke around saying that she loved this camera more than him,” Y/N chuckles quietly before continuing “She would take photos of the most random things, we have this big box back home filled with all the photos she ever took with that camera.” Y/N pauses, fumbling with her fingers. “I wish we still had the camera. You see after my mum passed, dad had to look after us 4 kids and with only one income coming in, it was pretty tough. For my 12th birthday I reeeaaally wanted a new bike, I’d complained for years that I couldn’t have my brothers old one because it was a gross boy’s bike. So, my dad sold my mums camera to get me a pink one. Kind of wish he didn’t because I would have loved to still have mum’s camera with us.”

Y/N finished and chewed her lip realising speaking about her dead mother probably wasn’t a great conversation piece, but any story of her mother always made her feel warm inside.

George hadn’t taken his eyes off her throughout the whole story, his heart fluttering when her eyes had lit up as she spoke about her mother.

“I’m sorry, probably not what you wanted to hear, it was the first thing that popped into my head.” Y/N mumbled.

George simply shook his head and replied, “you don’t ever have to apologise to me for saying what’s on your mind Y/N. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

For the first time in a while, Y/N felt seen.

Y/N’s phone dings and she pulls it from her pocket to read the message.

-Hey bunny :) so 4 tonight, we’re aiming to get to urs at like 7. does that work for u?

It was from George. Even if she didn’t have his number saved, she’d be able to tell it was from the redhead simply from his choice of nickname. Y/N hated when he called her bunny but George insisted on using the nickname ever since Lee’s 18th mainly because he thought it was cute not that he would tell her that.

Y/N’s heart thumped harder in her chest purely from the fact that George had texted her. Her crush on George had amplified over the years of knowing the boy, feeling both thankful and uneasy at the fact that he had so effortlessly slotted into their tight friendship group mainly because he was always around making Y/N a stuttering mess.

Y/N’s fingers fumble as she types out a response, it was her birthday today and all her friends we’re persistent in throwing her a party. They had agreed to a small gathering at Y/N’s place, Y/N didn’t want them to make such a fuss over it.

-Hey Georgie, 7 is perfect! Cant wait.

-See u then bunny, hope ur ready to get ur drink on ;)

-IDK, after the other weekend I dont think im ready to face alcohol again

-nope! no excuses from u, u only turn 21 once

Y/N chuckles at George’s message and goes back to tidying her house, ready for tonight.

~~~~

As soon as it hits 7pm her friends are barging through her front door lugging drinks.

Each of them greet Y/N giving her a hug and wishing her happy birthday.

“We’ll do presents later, first let’s get some drinks into us!” Angelina cheers as she starts to mix some deadly concoction. Alicia connects her phone to the speaker, the living room filling with music.

Y/N jumps as a voice pipes up from behind her, “happy birthday little bunny.”

She turns facing George as he places a brightly coloured wrapped box on the counter with the other presents. He opens his arms, engulfing her into a giant hug. Y/N wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze, “thanks” she mumbles into his chest before pulling away looking up at his warm eyes. They stare at each other for a second before the moment is broken when Fred places something on Y/N’s head.

“A birthday tiara for the birthday girl” Fred states loudly, Y/N glances at the mirror hanging from the wall on her left sees a plastic silver and pink tiara perched upon her head.

“Oh god,” Y/N mumbles adjusting it slightly.

Lee shouts over the music, drawing everyone’s attention over to him. “Okay everyone, the ever lovely Angie has made us each a questionable looking but delicious drink to start the night. So get your butts over here and let’s get this party started!”

A few hours and many, many drinks later, everyone is huddled in the living room, sitting on the couches watching Y/N open her presents. So far, she had gotten some perfume from Angelina, chocolates and a gorgeous photo frame from Alicia and Fred and Lee had gifted Y/N with a bottle of wine and voucher from the little boutique at the corner of her street. Y/N’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much and her heart swelled at the sweet gifts her friends had gotten her.

“Okay, only one left,” Alicia says, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Probably the best one,” Fred whispers to Lee.

“Of course it’s going to be the best one you idiot,” Angelina says as a matter of fact, overhearing the two boys.

George, who is sitting to Y/N’s right, hands over the brightly colour box, trying to hide his excitement and nerves. “Here you go Y/N, happy birthday.”

The box feels heavy in Y/N’s grasp as she places it in her lap tearing off the wrapping paper. Y/N glances around, noticing everyone’s eager eyes on her. She sees Angelina nudge Alicia’s side smiling at each other knowingly. Y/N furrow her brows, slightly confused then draws her attention back to the box. She ripped off the paper carefully and uncover a brown box, no hints as to what is inside.

“Oh my god, hurry up and open it the suspense is killing me!” Fred says impatiently, George whacks him across the head telling him to shut up.

Y/N take off the lid and immediately her mouth gapes open finally seeing what’s inside. She shakily lifts the film camera out of the box and hold it so gently as if it’s made of diamonds and gold.

Small tears prick in Y/N’s eyes, shocked and surprised at George’s gift, it looks exactly like the one her mother had.

She manages to squeak out a small, “you remembered?” referring to the first conversation they had 3 years prior.

George has a small smile etched onto his lips. “Of course I did, I remember everything you tell me. I take a lot of pride in knowing everything about you actually.” He says, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Yeah like what?” Y/N cradles the camera in her arms.

“Well,” George starts. “I know that you hate the smell tequila because it reminds you of your 18th when you spent most of the night by the toilet. I know that you can’t sleep if the room is dead quiet. I know that you love buying plants but can never seem to keep them alive. I know you never wear matching socks because you think it’s a fun way to spice up an outfit.” He finishes smugly.

Alicia and Angelina let out a small aww in the background reminding Y/N of the 4 other sets of eyes watching her and George right now.

“Well there’s one thing you don’t know about me.”

“Yeah? What’s that then?” George counters.

Y/N doesn’t know where she musters up the courage from to speak the next words, maybe from the alcohol buzzing through her body or finally being sick of keeping this to herself for the past 3 years. Whatever it may be, she’s rather proud of herself, ignoring the way her stomach churns.

“That I have a huge crush on you.”

She expected George to laugh in her face before rejecting her gently. What Y/N definitely didn’t expect was him to cradle her face in his large hands, pressing a sweet but passionate kiss to her pink lips. She squeaks in surprise before melting into the kiss, gripping onto his shirt tightly, scared he would slip away.

Much to Y/N’s dismay George pulls away from the kiss tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear, “no I knew that too.”

“Wha-how?” Y/N stutters.

The attention is pulled to Alicia as she begins to speak, “it wasn’t much of a secret babe. Everybody knew you were crushing on George. Can’t believe it took either one of you so long to do something about it.”

“Little Georgie here spent months trying to find that camera for you as a way to confess his undying love for you.” Fred reaches over and ruffles his twin’s hair who shoves him off.

“Yep, we were all so bloody excited for you to open his presents so you two can stop pining over each other.” Lee adds downing the rest of his drink then standing up. “Right, now the two love birds have finally confessed their feelings. Who’s up for a round of beer pong? Reigning champion here has yet to be defeated.”

“You’re on Jordan, that ego of yours has gotten large enough.” Fred challenges, everyone moving over to the table to set up for beer pong. Leaving Y/N and George alone on the couch.

George wraps his lanky arm around Y/N’s shoulder pulling her into his side, “I hope you’re enjoying your birthday bunny.”

Y/N grins widely, playing with her new camera before lifting it up and aiming it at George. “best birthday ever Georgie, thank you.” She squeezes the button down, snapping a picture of George who is staring at her like she’s the only person in the world.

Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. But for once she doesn’t mind being the centre of someone’s undivided attention.

#George weasley #George weasley one shot #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fluff #george weasley fan fic #Fred and george #george weasley imagine #twrh9kwritingchallenge

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takamikeiigos · 3 years

Note

Okay I know made an ask already like 2 days ago🙄 but what if hawks s/o had to fake their death on a mission for like a month or 2😮‍💨 and when they come back the first thing they do is look for hawks even though they’re tired, beaten and look like complete shit😩😩 I’m just such a sucker for these kind of tropes !!!

Also how’s ur day been :))

ayo i got you fam!!!

this was legit all i could think of for like 3 days so i hope it's okay!!

Title: "You Came Back to Me"

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (for now)

Relationships: Hawks x Reader

Tags: temporary character death, violence, drinking as a coping mechanism (minor on hawk's part), emesis

Word Count: 2.8k

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3

You look up at the villain who currently has you pinned to the floor, your ragged breaths leaving your mouth with every rise and fall of your chest.

His vibrant green eyes are piercing as they stare down at you, his expression wicked and merciless as he presses his foot harder against your throat as a warning.

"Here are your options, darlin'," he pulls his foot away, instead opting to sit back on his haunches. He brushes your hair from your face and rests his hand on your cheek. It makes you flinch and your breath hitch.

"You either find a way to dissappear, or I'll track down that precious little birdy of yours and take his wings for myself."

○ ○ ○

- three weeks prior -

"Let me come with you. Please."

"Kei.." you say softly as you back the rest of your necessities in your bag, finally turning to look at him.

He's on edge, you can tell by his posture. His wings are drawn tight to his back, but his feathers are puffed out. It reminds you of how hair stands on end and goosebumps make them selves known under fear and stress.

"You know I can't.."

"This is too much for one person to handle." His arms are folded across his chest now as he leans against the doorframe of your shared bedroom.

"You don't think I can handle myself?" The words leave your mouth sounding offended, and he instantly deflates.

"That's not what I meant. If you didn't know what you were doing, you wouldn't be working for one of the top agencies in Japan." Keigo steps forward, now in your space, and you can see a faint trace of fear flicker across his face. "I just.. this man is very dangerous, y/n. And if anything happens.."

"Hey. It'll be okay. It'll only be a month and I'll be home before you know it. I won't let anything happen, I promise." Your hand falls against his cheek and he nuzzles into it, both of his hands coming to rest against your own.

"You promise?" he asks quietly, needing one more confirmation that you'll be home and safe in a couple weeks.

"I promise."

○ ○ ○

"Have you made your mind up, sweetheart?" Kimura, the man who has had the utmost pleasure in beating you within an inch of your life, asks. He slams you against the brick wall of the alleyway one more time for good measure, his hand wrapped firmly around your throat.

"Please.." you gasp out, your hands coming to wrap around his wrist, trying to relieve the pressure against your larynx. "P-please promise me you won't hurt him, that you w-wont lay a hand on him.."

He chuckles darkly, tossing you aside onto the cold, dirty floor of the alleyway.

Your vision is blurring, slowly darkening at the edges, but you manage to see him move a few feet away, bending down to pick something up off the ground. You blink sluggishly and suddenly he's in your space once more, holding the object, which you soon realize is your phone, in your face.

"Go ahead, songbird. Give him one last goodbye."

You cringe at the abuse of the nickname that you hold so dear, but weakly reach out and take your phone from his hand, Hawks' number already dialed.

All you had to do was hit send and that would be it.

You close your eyes and rest your head against the brick wall, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You can feel tears burning as they make themselves known, clinging to your eyelashes and not yet falling to your cheeks. You blame it on the amount of pain you're in, but you know the true reason is because you're absolutely terrified.

You press send.

As it rings you notice Kimura bringing out his own phone, holding it up and aiming it in your direction.

What a sick bastard.

"Baby bird!" Keigo's voice comes cheerfully from the other line. Though it warms and calms your senses, it still makes you sad knowing that he's completely oblivious to what's about to come.

"H-Hey, Kei.." you try your best to keep your voice steady, but the damage from excessive force to your throat is unforgiving and the words leave your mouth sounding raspy and distant.

"Y/n, where are you?" Keigo's voice drops an octave and you can tell his worry has set in, which was exactly what you wanted to avoid.

"I'm okay, just uh," you pause mid-sentence, your throat tightening around the words as tears threaten to spill again, "just got knocked around a lil bit."

Your laugh comes out bitter. You hate the sound of it.

"Y/n. Tell. Me. Where. You. A-"

"Kei, listen. I need you to know how much I.." your voice betrays you and cracks, and you suddenly find that you can't fight the overwhelming fear and sadness coming over you. You weakly bring a hand up to wipe at your battered cheeks, tears continuing to fall and mix with the grime and blood that covers your skin.

You try again to steel yourself, another deep breath falling from your lips shakily, making your lungs rattle. It's becoming harder each second to keep your eyes open and your mind focused, but if you make it through this one phone call, you know you'll be able to rest easy.

"I need you t'know how much I love you. 'N that everything's g'nna be fine. That you'll be okay. And to not c-"

Suddenly a gunshot rings out and your whole world stands still for a split second, before turning completely sideways.

You register warmth blossoming over your abdomen, spreading and soaking your hero uniform. You can hear Keigo frantically yelling from where your phone slipped from your hand and landed on the concrete next to your head. And the last thing you see is Kimura holstering his gun with one hand, tapping away on his phone with the other.

"What a shitty ending for a hero, don't you think?" Kimura grins down at you.

Yeah. What a shitty ending for a hero.

○ ○ ○

The quiet trickle of water finds its way to your ears, and the feeling of something cold and damp against your forehead is a soothing contrast to how hot your body feels.

Opening your eyes feels as though it takes half of whatever strength you have left, and your vision swims. Suddenly hit with a wave a nausea, you lean over and vomit over the edge of the bed you're laying on. Luckily there's a bucket on the floor, and you assume it was placed there for a reason.

That someone placed it there.

In a panic you sit up, your wounds pulling tight and your body protesting. Your vision swims again and it takes you a few moments to ground yourself.

"Ma'am, please don't move too fast. You'll re-open your wounds and you're already in bad shape," a quiet voice projects throughout the room. You look up and notice an older man, probably in his sixties, sitting in a chair next to the bed you're currently occupying.

"Who are you? Where's Kimura?" You grit out, grabbing the edge of the blankets and tossing them off of you. The man in front of you is ready for your attempt at escape and he places steady hands on your shoulders, pushing you back onto the bed.

"Please! My name is Daichi Tanaka, I am a doctor! I found you in an alleyway near Higashiosaka. I would have taken you to a hospital but you begged me not to," the man pleads, his hands persistent on your shoulders.

You glare at him momentarily, before relaxing back onto the bed, still weary of his intentions.

"Kimura? Is that the name of the person who did this to you?" The man - Tanaka - asks hesitantly.

You ignore his question in favor for asking your own, "How long have I been out?"

Tanaka stares at at you, seeming to contemplate answering, but you figure he finally realizes you aren't taking any shit because his answer comes out with a sigh.

"A little over a week. You've been in and out, your fever finally broke this morning."

Over a week. You've been out for over a week and you don't know where you are, where Kimura went, and where Keigo-

Keigo.

It all comes crashing back to you and you lie back, your hands resting over your eyes.

Tanaka seems to have been reading your mind, because he pulls your phone from the nightstand next to you and passes it over.

"I wiped as much blood from it as I could. You have many new notifications and quite a few missed calls. I wasn't able to unlock it to call anyone, but it seems there are many people worried about you." Tanaka stands then, making his way toward the bedroom door.

"I will give you some privacy for now, but expect me to be back in twenty minutes to check up on you."

With that, Tanaka leaves, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You stare down at your phone, the screen cracked and a few specs of blood and dirt tucked into its crevices. You type your pin in and pull your notifications up, Keigo's name amongst others filling the screen.

You don't realize you're crying until a small hiccup forces its way from your mouth, your cheeks wet with tears.

You notice a voice-mail from him, and though you know it's only going to make you more upset, you force yourself to open it to make sure he's okay.

His voice floods the room and it immediately breaks your heart at how wrecked he sounds. You can tell he's been crying by how gravelly his voice sounds as the message plays out.

"You know," Keigo laughs bitterly over the phone, "I punched Ryosetsu in the face for letting you go on this mission alone. Gave 'im a real nice shiner on your behalf."

The message goes quiet and you can hear what sounds like a glass bottle being opened in the background, Keigo's quiet sniffles also making themselves known.

"Fuck, y/n. They didnt even.. they didnt even find your body. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, huh?

"They wouldn't even let me anywhere near the scene, I had to sit back at the office while they kept me informed. He said there was uh.." you assume Keigo pauses to take a swig of whatever he's drinking based off the tink of the glass bottle, "heh, he said there's a low chance you're even alive because there was so much blood. Fuck."

You grimace at how blunt he is with the statement and how distant his voice sounds. You can only hope that he hasn't been drinking as often as your thoughts are telling you.

"Please come back to me," he whimpers over the message, and a new wave of tears fall down your cheeks. "Please.. I can't do this without you."

○ ○ ○

A few days pass.

Tanaka refuses to take any of your shit.

He most definitely refuses to let you leave until you had one more solid meal in you, and one more day of rest.

You're still a little weak, bruises and abrasions littering your skin ( not to mention the nasty bullet wound Tanaka managed to sew up for you ) but you finally have enough strength to stand and walk on your own.

He pleads with you to stay one more day, just to ensure you're strong enough to be by yourself, but you shake your head and bow before him.

"Thank you, Mr. Tanaka, but I have to keep moving. It might be unsafe for you if I stay."

So instead he writes down his phone number on a crumpled piece of paper and hands it to you, patting your hand briefly.

"You're a strong one, just be sure to take care of yourself." He smiles kindly at you, and you nod before taking your leave.

○ ○ ○

Days go by as you hop around from town to town, only stopping for food and rest.

It's been a little over two weeks since you made the decision to distance yourself to ensure the safety of your friends and Keigo, and nearly two months since you were assigned the mission. While you knew faking your death was the only way to keep people from asking too many questions about why you suddenly disappeared, you weren't expecting to actually get shot and almost die.

You keep up with the recent events as best as you can, continuously watching news coverage and especially keeping tabs on Keigo's agency.

Your breath catches in your throat one day while you're moving through a rural seaside town, large red wings and a familiar hero uniform immediately catching your attention.

A flood of emotions run through you and it takes everything in you to not run up to him and hold him. But the fear of Kimura's prying eyes hold you back, and you steadily remind yourself that you're doing this to protect him.

You keep your distance and watch his every move. He's staring down at his phone for a while and after a few moments it rings. He brings it to his ear and though you can't hear what he's saying, it must be something important.

Because soon enough his wings are spread out and he's taking flight into the afternoon sky.

○ ○ ○

'Pro-Hero Hawks makes appearance in. Tanabe - finds lead on hero killer'

'Hanamatsu hero case still under investigation'

'Top Hero Agency in Japan pursuing hero killer - Kimura'

The news headlines on your phone cause your blood to run cold. How foolish of you to think Keigo would let this go so easily.

To think he wouldn't trace every piece of evidence and go to the ends of the earth to take down someone who hurt you.

○ ○ ○

You keep tabs on him as best you can. It begins to feel like you're stalking him, in a weird way, but you'll be damned if you did all of this just to put his safety on the line.

Keigo stays in Tanabe for the time being, the week passing by in a blur as you track his movements.

You figure Kimura went into hiding since his criminal activity fell flat after your encounter with him, but Keigo is as persistent as he's ever been, nitpicking every lead that comes his way.

A few days later word gets out that Kimura has been spotted in the village of Hidakagawa, just thirty minutes northwest of Tanabe.

You only hope you can get there before Keigo does.

○ ○ ○

Hidakagawa is exactly what you pictured, a perfect little town for a low-life criminal to live under the radar.

Its quiet and rural, its occupants living their lives happily tucked away from the bustling life of the city.

A few squad cars rush past you as you look at the map you have pulled up on your phone. It seems a little out of character for such a small town, so you push yourself forward and follow them.

○ ○ ○

When you finally catch up to the squad cars, the scene before you makes your hair stand on end.

Keigo has Kimura pinned to the ground, battered and bruised, his fist closed around a one of his feathers that he's currently wielding as a blade. A few dozen officers surround the scene, guns drawn and on edge.

Kimura smirks up at him and whatever he says is out of earshot, but its enough to piss Keigo off and send him into a frenzy.

"Kei, stop!" You find yourself yelling shakily. You finally manage to push through the barricade of officers and it's then that Keigo makes eye contact with you, his closed fist halted in the air.

Kimura takes the split second of distraction to knock the blade from Keigo's hand, flipping their position so the winged hero is pinned to the floor of the temple. He pulls out his gun and cocks it, pressing it to Keigo's forehead.

All the while Keigo keeps his eyes on you.

"I thought I told you to stay away, little one," Kimura grits out, wiping a trail of blood from his mouth, "Now it looks like your little hawk is about to lose his wings, all because someone can't listen."

You move on impulse when Kimura turns his attention back to Keigo, and you grab the handgun from the officer closest to you.

You waste no time in firing a bullet, hitting Kimura right in the temple. But as it strikes he squeezes the trigger of his own gun on impulse, which is still trained on Keigo, a second round going off.

- to be continued -

tbh i was super nervous to post this bc im so new to the fandom but here we go!!

also i just made up random characters bc im not quite caught up with the manga, and also picked random spots in japan that i know absolutely nothing about

rip to my writing skills lmfao

♡ ky

#im terrified to post this lmaooo #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #mha hawks #mha keigo takami #bnha takami keigo #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #hawks #ky writes #ky answers #fanfiction #you came back to me

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bratkook · 3 years

Text

eleven months. (m) myg. one.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: none this chapter. word count: 2.8k author’s note: this chapter is on the shorter side, just diving into them meeting and giving you all a small glimpse into them as individuals! im really excited for this story so let me know what you think, feel free to scream about anything in my inbox bye ily lmao summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

Yoongi loves the rain, really he does. The way the clouds gloom over the city, encompassing it in this darkness that reminds him of underexposed film. He wishes he could always see the world through this filter, always smell the scent of wet soil and tarmac as he makes his way through the streets. Something about hearing the soft patter hitting the sidewalk, bouncing off the rooftops and dripping from the gutters calms him. A soft smile spreads across his face as he exhales the smoke in his lungs, letting the stick hang loosely off his lips while his hands clutch onto his umbrella.

When he stomps his foot into a wide puddle, the cold water splashes up onto his ankle and he grimaces. He hates being caught in the middle of rain. It didn’t matter if he had his umbrella or not, or if he managed to bundle enough for the downpour, he hates stepping into puddles and getting his socks wet. Hates how some of the raindrops that slipped under his umbrella—since it was now raining sideways—have managed to make his cigarette slightly soggy.

Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth this time, he holds it in front of his face with a frown. It was halfway done but no longer burning properly due to how wet it had become.

What a waste.

As he passes a trash can, he stubs it out fully and tosses it inside, a small pout on his face at the loss of something to fidget with. But then he sees the glowing sign inching closer, the bright neon yellow standing out in the grim weather. The illuminated Rkive360 in the distance stops him from slipping out another smoke, choosing to stuff his unoccupied hand into the pocket of his jeans, moving his legs a little faster to get to his destination.

The bell at the top of the door jingles as he stumbles in, his foot tripping over the small lip of the mat by the door. That was a safety hazard he’d playfully bitch to Namjoon about later.

“Yoongi, hey!” When he balances out, closing his umbrella and giving it a good shake by the door, he looks up and grins at Taehyung. He spots him standing by a flat spread of clothes a few feet away, folding out some new items as he stares at Yoongi with a genuine smile. His curls flop over his eyes and Yoongi chuckles to himself as he wonders how a guy like him was here folding shirts when he should probably be the face of Gucci or something.

Well, that’s life.

“Hey man,” Yoongi mumbles out, his eyes catching the plastic bin beside the door that’s labeled ‘umbrellas here’ in a messy scribble he can only attribute to Taehyung. Not needing to be told twice, he sticks his dripping umbrella upside down into it and shuffles inside the shop, taking a minute to look around like he always did.

Record stores have always been his safe space, even as a teenager. The amount of time spent in one after school, loitering inside with his friends as he sorted through the racks of CDs and vinyl, exiting with his bag of new goodies that left him excited to get home and play them. It was god sent that his best friend decided to open up his own place years ago, keeping it fully stocked with anything he could imagine. Maybe Yoongi was a little biased, but this was definitely the best shop in the country.

It’s a welcoming place, pops of color in every corner, tall standing sculptures mixed in with displays of music, autographed albums and posters framed onto the wall behind the counter. It’s the full embodiment of his best friend, down to the tiny KAWS figurines perched beside the register and the music playing through the speakers. The small melody in the background fills his ears once the door is shut, recognizing the song playing as Dang! by Mac Miller and he bobs along as he approaches Taehyung.

“Quick question,” he starts, his hands coming up to shake at his gray hair that was slightly damp from the rain. Taehyung sets the shirt down, resting both of his palms on the table as he leans towards Yoongi with interest. “Any chance you guys miraculously got Seventeen Seconds in your stock this week?”

Taehyung hums in thought, his brows furrowing together as he tries to mentally sort through the massive boxes of new vinyl Namjoon had brought in a few days ago. New shipment comes once a week but every now and then Namjoon goes out of his way to find specific records, never missing with his selection.

A small flash of blurry trees crosses his mind and then he's smiling at him. “Yeah, we actually got it the other day. Pretty sure Namjoon hunted it down for you since you’ve been asking. It should be in the back.” His thumb points behind him, towards the display tables that held all the LP’s available at the store, a very familiar spot.

Yoongi mumbles out a thanks as he makes his way over, eyes already locked onto the bin that he knew would hold his prized possession. It’s not until he gets a few feet closer that he sees your crouched frame over a box, figure slightly hidden by a giant CD rack. You’re rummaging through the records, almost making him flinch when you quickly stand back up and find their proper spot in the display. You don’t notice him approaching until he’s right beside you, eyes once again glued to the bins lined in alphabetical order once the initial shock of another person subsided.

That’s when you give him a glance, sending him a soft smile as you slip the record in its rightful spot, crouching back down to grab the next bunch. His hand pauses on the edge of the bin at the glimpse of something familiar, momentarily distracted by your shirt. When you stand back up, feeling him staring at you, you slowly turn to face him once more with your eyebrows raised up in question.

He takes note of the tag clipped to your shirt, it reads Sana but he’s used to dealing with Sana and you are definitely not her. You’re new.

The smile remains on your lips as you rest your hip against the edge of the table holding up the record bins, preparing to put your best customer service voice to use. His eyes glance at the writing on your shirt again, cracking a grin when he confirms it's a New Order shirt tucked into your black jeans. “You like New Order?”

Your smile falters slightly, your arms crossing in front of you as you narrow your eyes at him in defense, not entirely sure how to take his tone. “If you’re about to ask me to name five of their songs I’ll have to walk away to avoid getting fired.”

His smile widens at that, soft and gummy, breaking his cold appearance as his arms raise up in front of him in surrender. “No, just an observation.”

Your demeanor softens again, your arms sagging back down to your sides and smiling once more. “Good, it's my first day on the job and I’d really like to keep it.”

Yoongi chuckles softly, going back to his searching for his precious album, leaning over the third bin dedicated to bands starting with the letter C. His nimble fingers flip through the LPs until he gets to the Cure, sorting through Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, passing Pornography until he reaches Wish and his brows furrow, flicking back and forth as if the album he wanted would magically appear.

“Need help finding something?” You speak up again when you take note of him sorting through the same chunk of vinyl. He grunts lightly, letting the stack slant back in a heap as he purses his lips.

“Yeah actually, Taehyung said you guys got the album Seventeen Seconds but I don’t see it.

You step back from reorganizing the bin labeled S, trying to remember if you had brought the record out or if it was still sitting in the second box ready to be unpacked. Your brain was already overwhelmed from all of the information you had been given on your first day, trying to unscramble the entire backroom and it’s countless boxes—most of which were unlabeled because Taehyung said it’s not necessary since he knows where everything is.

Much like Taehyung, you recall seeing a flash of the album cover when you sorted through the new box of records, knowing exactly where it was tucked away since you had been the one to store it. You were under strict orders to not put it out on the floor, because according to Namjoon, if someone else took this album you’d be attending his funeral.

“Oh, uh gimme a sec.” You shuffle away, leaving him behind as you approach Taehyung, still folding away. “Hey, Tae?”

He hums in question, turning to stare at you with a small smile. “Whats up?”

“That guy is asking for Seventeen Seconds but Namjoon told me he’d be murdered if I gave this out to anyone.”

Taehyung starts laughing instantly, setting the shirt down as he stares at a confused looking Yoongi still standing by the LP’s. “Yeah, he was saving it for him specifically.”

“Got it, okay. Thanks.” You make a beeline back to the tables at the back, passing Yoongi with a polite smile. “Be right back!” you exclaim, wagging your finger at him as you make your way towards the back room, clearly on a mission.

Yoongi just stands there as you enter the employee stock room, not trying to cross any professional lines and follow you since you have no idea who he is. It's only a few feet away and you left the door propped open so when a few minutes pass and he hears rustling, followed by a heavy sounding thud and some curse words, he can’t help but wander over and peak his head in.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face when he sees the way you’re frozen, one foot on the ledge of the shelf and the other on a not so sturdy looking stool, caught in the act of a poorly made decision. Below you lay two brown boxes that carry shirts you’re meant to unpack later, definitely the cause of the loud thud he had heard.

“Yep,” you confirm as you pluck out the record you need, shoving the box back into its safe spot and hopping down haphazardly. “Here you go.”

Grabbing the record carefully, he flips it over to skim the track list and smiles widely when he looks back up at you. That familiar warmth fills his chest as he holds the new item, making him feel the same way he had as a teenager when he bought his first LP. He had been searching for this vinyl for months now. It wasn’t as if it was no longer in production, he just couldn’t seem to find it in stock anywhere he looked and buying it internationally was the last resort he would take since the shipping fees were downright illegal. “Thanks.”

You’re already hunched down on the floor as you open up one of the boxes that had fallen in your haste to scale the shelves, deciding to just unpack in now since you were here.

“Yeah, no problem. Tae can ring you up at the front.” Sending him off with a smile and a wave, he takes that as his cue to exit, making his way to the front again.

When he leaves the backroom you flop onto your butt with a huff, your legs sprawling out with the second box in between them. You were hoping your words didn’t come across as rude to him but you couldn’t take the way his sharp eyes stared at you. Had he lingered any longer you would have embarrassed yourself, it was a miracle your footing hadn’t slipped on your way down from the shelves. You can’t imagine your ego being able to recover from a tumble like that.

Taehyung spots Yoongi leaning against the front counter, setting the final shirt down and going to stand behind it with a smile. “Did you find everything okay?” he asks automatically, the general phrases they had to use coming out without a thought and Yoongi scoffs, sliding the record across the counter and nodding.

“Of course I did, you let Namjoon know that I said your customer service is unmatched.” His finger gently rubs against the first black KAWS figurine, smiling at the remaining four as he remembers how Namjoon had excitedly told him that this was their friend group, representing them all perfectly.

Taehyung grins with a roll of his eyes, scanning the album and slipping it into the brown paper bag they provided. “Wonderful. Your total is 40,000 won.”

“Wow, your customer service voice is phenomenal.”

Taehyung laughs now, his nose crinkling up at Yoongi's sarcastic tone, watching how Yoongi grins back at him, succeeding in getting him to crack. “Fuck you, man.”

“Ah, there he is.” Yoongi hums with a chuckle as he pulls out his wallet, sorting through his bills and handing them to Taehyung. “Who’s New Order girl?”

Tae raises his brows as he enters the amount into the POS, the drawer popping open against his hips. “Oh, Y/N?” Yoongi only shrugs, you had Sana’s name tag on so how the hell should he know.

Taehyung stuffs the money into the drawer and slams it shut, ripping off the receipt from the machine and slipping it into the bag. “She just started today, can’t remember where she moved from, some place far though.” He shrugs as he hands the bag over to Yoongi.

The older boy ruffles his damp hair up, accepting the bag with his right hand. “Oh, cool. Well thanks, I’ll see you guys later then?” Taehyung just waves him off with a smile, similar to the way you did and he laughs to himself when he realizes Taehyung must be the one in charge of training you.

As he approaches the front door he pulls out his pack of cigarettes once more, sliding one out and slipping it between his lips. He finds himself looking towards the back of the shop again, seeing you resuming your organization, but your head lifts up as you feel him staring at you from his spot at the door. The spark of his lighter flashes across his face when he lights up his smoke, opening his umbrella once more now that he's partially outside. When your eyes meet, he smiles around the stick, giving you a nod before turning and walking back out into the rain.

You watch as his figure disappears down the street, his dark silhouette blending in with the rest of the people roaming the city, and when you can no longer see him through the store window you turn towards Taehyung. He’s stood at the POS, fidgeting with the screen, but when you call his name he glances up at you. “Is he a regular?”

He nods in response, eyes going back to stare at the screen as he begins to print out a sheet to fulfill the online orders the store received. “Yeah, he comes in at least once a week. Buys strictly vinyl. I think Namjoon mentioned he’s a music producer, or maybe it was a DJ, I can’t remember.”

Taehyung evidently doesn’t have the best memory, that much had been made clear in the short span you’ve known him. He had forgotten your name twice during your interview, Namjoon having to subtly repeat it for him, he had also asked you three times where you were from and at first you thought he was joking but when his face remained serious you realized he had really forgotten already.

“Hey, where’d you move from again?” he asks one more, genuinely curious as if you hadn’t told him a handful of times already.

“I told you, Iceland.” It’s a lie, but when he hums in thought—pretending to suddenly remember—you chuckle at the newfound way to mess with him.

He’s quick to start questioning you about Iceland, nodding along to the lies you spill while you both go back to your tasks of sorting albums and folding shirts. It makes your first full shift eventful, passing jokes back and forth as the sky grows gloomier. As distracting as your conversations get, you can’t help but glance up through the windows whenever a dark clad figure walks by, the thought of the sharp eyed stranger lingering in your mind.

#min yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fics #bts imagines #new #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #heartsforbts #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner

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george-fabian-weasley · 3 years

Text

if we had 5 more minutes — f. w.

Summary: You thought you could save Fred from the rumbles of falling stones; you did your best, only to be in the rumbles with him instead.

Words: 2,160 words

Warnings ⚠ : ANGST, TW: Death, TW: Battle of Hogwarts, TW: war, TW: injuries, Fred died, you died, big Pain™, I strongly suggest tissues and a dozen of comfort chocolates, I cried so you will too, Basically An Emotional Rollercoaster, Read At Your Own Risk

Disclaimer: inspired by Billie Eilish's cover of The End of The World, so... ya'll know this is going to be a painful ride. Buckle up your seatbelts and enjoy. Reblogs and Comments are Highly Appreciated! <3 p/s: reading this with the song at the background really helps with the tear pouring effect ;)

Disclaimer 2.0: i know what yall are thinking... what tf is syaf doing, posting a fic when she’s in a hiatus she just posted yesterday? Also where is mad hatter chap 5 and epilogue? well, my brain likes to conjure up ideas at very inappropriate times (like rn) so bare with me and uh i’ve been really physically and mentally exhausted from work (retail is bathshit crazy) to write the mad hatter series so idk when will i update the two chapters but i’m working on it! thank you for being patient, and im sorry for causing you guys to wait for so long, ilysm don’t kill me <3

masterlist! | general taglist! | buy me a coffee!

The end of the world.

The Battle of Hogwarts looked like the end of the world. Curses and spells thrown left to right, different kinds of bodies found at each corner and crook, walls here and there crumbling as down as hope for freedom. And blood.

At that point of time, the pools of blood on the floor look the same; pureblood or not. Because they bleed the same anguish red.

You didn't need to see the apocalypse of the world anymore. Screw the end of Mother Earth; this battle in front of your eyes was more than enough — sadly — to be your end of the world.

“Hey,” You called, causing Fred to turn his head around to your direction, his lips etched up a smile before replying with another hey. You sat next to him, the place where George had sat before he got up and left to speak with Professor Lupin.

Evil is winning, and good is losing. But then again, what difference would it make; if good kills as many as evil? At the end of the world, there is no good and evil alone. There are desperation, madness, and hunger for power, lust for victory brought along with them.

So, at the end of the world, you chose to be side by side with your lover, Fred Weasley. The red-headed dork you’ve taught yourself to pour your love into had become the very source of your life. He is your elixir, he is your soul, heart, and happiness.

It was silent for a while, none of you had anything to say. Yet the silence was comforting, with only the presence of each other as calming as it is. “Y/N,” Fred suddenly turned his head to you, biting his lower lip in contemplation. “Hm?” “Can you just stay at the Burrow?”

You blinked, “What?” Fred sighed, “Can you just stay at the Burrow right now and not join the war? I- I don’t want you to join in-” “Fred-” “I-It’s dangerous and it’s literally a war a-and I don’t want you to get hurt I would- I would rather die than have you hurt-”

“Fred!” You raised your voice, your hand clasping onto his securely, an effort to calm his frenzied thoughts. He stopped rambling and stared at you with those doe eyes you adored so much, “You know I can’t do that.”

“We need everyone on board for this war. I am no exception- bloody hell, even your parents are joining in, Freddie!” You tried to explain slowly, and Fred closed his eyes in denial of defeat.

“I love you,” he suddenly blurted out. He noticed the slight fluster you had, your eyebrows were raised for a millisecond before they furrowed upon a realization, “Wait, why are you saying this now? I-“ “I love you, Y/N,” he repeated himself and you shook your head, realizing what he was doing, “Wait, hold on a minute, no-“

He was saying it in case anything happens.

“Y/N, I love you-” “Don’t you dare say it one more time like you’re not gonna make it, Fred Weasley, I swear to Merlin,” You cut him off, your jaw clenching at his absurdness. “… Aren’t you gonna say it back?” Fred asked, his voice was small.

“I-” You sighed, “No, I won’t because I don’t want to say it right now, given the circumstances,” You paused, your voice quieting down, “It felt like a goodbye when you say it like that.” “Then when will you say it? We’ve been dating for almost a year and you'd never say it before,” He said.

“Really? This is the time to argue about this?” You gave him a pointed look, but your expression softened as you understood the meaning behind his actions. “Look, Freddie, I- You know how I feel about us,” You sighed, looking down at your hands on your lap, “You know I’m not that expressive with my words but- but I’m trying and- okay, let’s make a deal,” Fred’s ears perked up the mention of a deal. "I'm listening," he drawled.

“I’ll say the words when the war is over,” Fred gave you a sour look that clearly said ‘really?’ and it caused you to huff a smile, “Once everything is over, and everything is okay again, I’ll say them as many times as you want me to, okay?” Fred leaned into your touch as you cupped his cheek with your hand, kissing his forehead.

“Even if I made you say it a thousand times?” He asked and you chuckled, your heart warming at his childlike question, “I’ll say it for an hour if you asked me to.”

It happened so fast.

One second you were fighting off the Death Eaters with Percy and Fred, and then the other, you find your body aching at the major pressure from the rocks and debris that used to be Hogwarts’ protective wall from the outside world.

It was dark, and it was dusty, but you were too unconscious to notice. That was until you felt your cheek being patted a few times. As you gained consciousness with a cough or two, you also gained the pending pain spreading all across your whole body. You couldn’t feel your legs, or safe to say your whole lower body part.

Memories of you a few moments ago trying to push Fred away from the rumbles but ended up facing the falling stones head-on with him instead began to flow back into your mind. How foolish could you be to act like a hero, as if you could sacrifice yourself for him to live.

“… Y-Y/N…”

You turned your head with a silent grunt, and your eyes fixate at the body beside you, a few feet away, Fred.

He had blood leaking from his nose and ears, probably from the impact, and his face was dusty with debris from the stones. As he looked at you, he threw you a smile; a weak, hiding the fact that he’s in immense pain kind of smile.

“F-fancy seeing you here,” he grunted with a wince, a smile nevertheless rested on his lips. “Fred…” you could only mutter his name, closing your eyes for a brief second at the growing pain on your thighs. The pressure from the rumbles had slowly increased, and you felt yourself losing consciousness again. Only to be brought back to open your eyes as Fred poked your cheeks a few more times, “Hey, hey, s-stay with me, love.”

“We’ll… We’ll be okay.”

You winced at the trickling sensation on your skin as you tried to move your fingers towards him, “It’s… It’s impossible, Fred…” You voiced out, your voice cracking up. You saw Fred’s lips quivered before he threw you another comforting smile, “Don’t… Don’t say that. We’ll make it… I-I know we will.”

“We… We will?”

Groaning from the injuries on his body as he tried to move closer to you, he nodded, “We will.”

You felt his fingers trying to reach for yours, and you handed him assistance as you hooked your fingers with his. His hand was cold, trembling. But it was Fred’s. And Fred’s hand is always warm.

“It’s… It’s so heavy,” You whimpered in pain, looking at Fred for comfort. All Fred wished to do at the moment was to be strong enough. Strong enough to push off these rumbles pressing onto his body. Strong enough to pull you out from the pain. All he wished for was for you to not be in pain anymore. But he knew he couldn’t do anything. The rumbles were too big, too heavy, and it would take a while for anyone to find them at the bottom of everything.

Fred breathed out heavily through his mouth, slowly finding it difficult to breathe through his nose anymore, trying his best to look strong for you, “Stay with me, love. S-stay with me. Five more minutes. F-five more minutes and they’ll- they’ll save us…”

“Fred…”

“Five more minutes, I promise…”

You saw the desperation in his eyes, trying his best to somehow keep you afloat until you two are saved. You heard muffles from the other side, Percy screaming for Fred and you. His screams were sad and painful to hear; you would’ve cried for him if it wasn’t for the constant high-pitched ringing in your ears.

“Fred, h-hold my hand. P-please,” You whispered, finding no more strength to say anything louder than a whisper. He instantly intertwined your fingers with his, stretching as far as he could to reach you; no matter how screeching the pain in his lower body was.

“Fred,” You called him again. He chuckled a bit, “You’re… you’re saying my name a lot of times right now, darling.” You huffed a smile, the corner of your lips twitched, “… I want to ask you something.”

“… Anything.”

Your eyes met his, even in the darkness, his eyes still managed to look so beautiful. So earthly beautiful. “… Are you happy, Freddie?”

There was something about the way you say it, Fred couldn’t get a touch of what it was but… it felt like a goodbye. As much as Fred hated to admit, he wasn’t holding on much longer either. He was bleeding heavily from everywhere, his wand was out of his reach, and his body was starting to numb. His vision began to blur by itself, hence he blinked his eyes repeatedly. Trying his best to see your features clearly, one last time, if the worst happens.

This is it, he thought. This is the end of my line.

Finding an urge to cry, but didn’t have enough strength to sob, Fred let out a tear or two onto the dusty surface he laid his head on, his eyes closing after the content stare of your beautiful— though bloody and dusty— face. How ironic, he’s slipping away first even though he was the one who said five more minutes.

If only you had five more minutes.

“W-with… With you? Heh, always… “ The whisper coming out from his mouth caused you to narrow your eyes at him. It felt strange, it felt wrong. Was he saying goodbye? Watching Fred close his eyes was alarming, so you gained all your strength to pat his hand a few times, “H-hey, Freddie… Five more minutes. Hang… Hang on for five more minutes, please.”

You squeezed his hand, and he naturally squeezed back, only this time it was weaker than usual. His grip on your hand started to soften, but you tightened yours desperately. The pain all over your body was partially forgotten, your only focus was on keeping Fred breathing and alive, as well as yourself.

“I’m… I’m trying, my love… but I’m sleepy… and tired…” he mumbled, his words became slurred by time. He was on the edge, you realized that. Upon the sad realization, you bit your tongue, trying your best to prepare for the worst. “L-look at me, darling,” Your voice quivered, feeling the sandy surface on your temple as you tried to force your eyes open, to properly look at him, “Look at me.”

You knew it. He was slipping away from your fingers, and you were slipping too. It didn’t matter anymore even if Percy bulldozed his way to you now, it was too late. Simply too late. And that’s none of his faults. It’s none of his and none of yours.

Some things are just meant to be.

You took your other hand and placed it onto his cold, dirty cheek. Caressing his cheekbone gently, you gave him a comforting smile, “Fred.”

He looked at you, a faint smile on his lips. He’s at the end, you acknowledged. You widen your smile to assure him, although the tears escaping your eyes say otherwise, “… You make me happy. You make me so so happy. And I… I love you.”

“I love you, Freddie.”

With a big smile, Fred widened his eyes weakly, letting out a sigh of content as he looked at you with gentle eyes,“… Now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?“

Gentle eyes that soon hollowed empty.

“Yeah,” the dam of your tears broke down, “Took me a long time...” You squeezed his now lifeless hand, trying to find comfort and warmth from him for the last time. You smiled at Fred, whilst tears rolling down your temple slowly as if mourning the passing of your lover for you. You inched closer to him, careful not to graze your injuries, and met your nose with his.

You caressed his cheek, finally feeling yourself lose consciousness. This is it, you thought, I won’t wake up ever again. “You said we’ll be okay,” You whispered weakly, huffing a content smile on your lips. Staring into his eyes that had held so much love and pure unadulterated affection for you all these years, now empty with no trace of life, had sent you into pain more powerful than the injuries present on and in your body.

“I guess we will be, after this.”

“… You spent your last five minutes with me, huh?” You felt yourself going in and out of consciousness, and your vision blurring continuously, “Aren’t you a sappy git,” the mere whisper escaped your mouth with a sigh. The warm smile never left your lips, and the only thing in your mind was how peaceful he looked as of that moment, and you wondered if you’ll ever be in that state of peace, with him.

“No- no- no!” someone was shouting. “No! Fred! no!” And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them with his hand on Y/N’s head, and the pair of lovers stared at each other without seeing, the ghost of their last smile still etched upon their faces.

On our last few drags of air, we agree

I was, and you were

Happy

TAGLIST:

@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel @evewithluv @softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @bucketandpotato @klausdatprettyboi @adoregin @littlechillies @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp @wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @potters-heart @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @loveboyhalo @lupinsclassroom @breadqueen95 @iwritesiriusly @rcwenaclaw @sevsbitxh @freds-slut @acosmis-t @colorfulprofessornickelangel @vote4weasleys @anchoeritic @alluringshawn @cute-sidney @anna-banana-13 @lostaurorax @emrysts @rosietoesy @lilgeorgie78 @prismarts @an2402lths

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fredweasley #frederick gideon weasley

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

Text

the lift.

STEVE ROGERS. MARVEL. ┃ USEFUL LINKS.

❝ request by anon: Girl I love that we must watch all the same things because your masterlist is heaven!! I love all the characters lol Can I request an imagine for reader x Steve Rogers where the reader is an avenger but her and Bucky are super close where everyone thinks they’re together, but it’s platonic. Reader and Steve have massive crushes on each other, but are two idiots who don’t realize it. The team has to help hem figure it out?? Or you can switch them around it you want. I love Steve and Bucky equally 🤷‍♀️

❝ request by anon: Hey girl! Awww yah! Requests are open 🎉 Can I request something for Steve Rogers? Maybe a prompt of “You came to my room at 4am...to cuddle?" I’m a sucker for Steve so honestly anything you write is fine 😅

❝ words: about 1k.

❝ a / n: don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i’d really appreciate it!

“This is a bad idea, sir”.

The metallic voice from F.R.I.D.A.Y. speaks throughout the living room. Even she knows that locking you and Steven inside the lift isn't going to help you to realize what you feel for each other.

“Sh…” Stark utters before taking a sip from his glass of whisky.

All the Avengers are there. Natasha has made popcorn to share with Bruce, while Pepper is trying to persuade his husband to stop, asking Bucky for help. But he just shrugs in her direction.

“Do you have plans for tonight?” The captain asks resting his waist against the railing, placing his hands there too.

“Nope. I think I'm just… gonna order some food and have a quiet night”. You shake your head, holding a S.H.I.E.L.D. file closer to your chest. “Why? You have another option?”

“Nope”. He imitates you with a soft grimace, almost giggling. “Sounds good to me, ma'am”.

“Oh, so, will I be blessed with your presence, Capta—”.

You can't finish the joke when the lift shakes slightly by stopping. A loud roar turns the lights inside red. Steve walks to the control, hitting every button on it as if this gesture could make it work again. And you're starting to sweat. You have claustrophobia and suddenly these four walls feel too close to each other. Like, really close.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” He exclaims once and again before turning at you, hyperventilating sitting on the floor. “Hey, hey, hey! Are you okay?”

“I ca— I can't breathe, Steve”. You barely babble.

“Okay, okay, don't panic. It's okay”. Keeping as much calm as he can, the soldier removes the file from your hands to take off your jacket.

“Let the lift fall a little”. Tony casually pronounces the command to his A.I., making everyone in the room turn at him.

The lift falls a little. And the whole damn city can hear you screaming. Steve is on the verge of his nerves, standing up to try to force the doors and open them. You may be somewhere between the twentieth and the twenty-first floor. But they feel like both are hermetically closed.

“Hello? Anybody hear us?” The Captain screams from the bottom of his lungs, palming and hitting the walls.

“God, I'm gonna die”. You whisper in tears, causing your friend to kneel again close to you.

He doesn't doubt taking you into his strong arms, maneuvering to sit on the floor and put you onto his laps, tightly wrapping you against his chest. Steve rocks you, wanting you to calm down and to not think where you are, nor what's happening. He has protected and comforted you before, but this time where not even F.R.I.D.A.Y. is responding, you know it's the end. And you don't want to die in silence.

“I love you”. You sob, hiding your face under his jaw, gripping your fingers in his shirt.

He laughs quietly, leaving a kiss on top of your head. “I love you too”.

He hasn't understood you.

“I love you, Steve”. You repeat the confession. “I don't wan— wanna… die without telling you”.

“Don't be dramatic”. He scoffs, not replying to what you have just said.

Stark never thought it wouldn't happen this fast, but now, everybody is celebrating your revelation.

“Can you, for the love of God, take them out of there?" Pepper almost begs, knowing how bad do you feel in closed spaces.

“Just… one minute else”.

The excuse they gave you both was that they were training and minding their own business. But the A.I. is everywhere, so at least you don't believe them. And you can't stop thinking about what you told Steve. He hasn't acted weird after it, probably imagining it has been part of the moment. But it's not.

Getting up from your bed, not being able to sleep, you tour the long hallways to his dorm. Taking a deep breath as you notice the light under the door, you come closer to knock it. Walking inside and closing the room behind your back, you rest it against the iron door. The soldier is lying on his mattress, reading a book about Sherlock Holmes. But the story is left in the background when he raises his eyes towards you and a funny grimace appears on his face.

“You came to my room at fou—”.

“I was serious”. You interrupt him with a firm tone. Swallowing, you close your eyes to find the encouragement to repeat your words somehow. “I'm in love with you, Steve. Ever since”.

His gesture suddenly disappears, causing you to tremble a little. But before you can continue speaking, he tosses the sheets by his side over him to palm the bed. In silence, you walk straight to it slowly, hesitating. As soon as his arms can surround you, he pushes you onto his chest, tucking you there. He didn't believe the excuse Stark gave you either. It wasn't a coincidence.

“I love you too”. He whispers, not like a secret, but only wanting you to hear his —surprisedly— honeyed voice. “I can't even explain what you make me feel, but you complete me in the most perfect way. And I was good being your friend. I can't anymore now”.

Steve is aware he doesn't need vocal permission to kiss you, bringing his lips to yours. You don't hold back a soft sigh, leaving a hand on his chest and landing the other on his neck. At first, you don't have any rush. You take your time tasting each other's lips until he finds your tongue with his and something explodes within your guts. Soon the two of you are breathless, needed for more, pawing and exploring your anatomies under your clothes.

“I want to make you mine”. The soldier growls against your mouth, settling himself between your legs to shorten any kind of distance, losing the shame that still characterizes him sometimes.

“And, what are you waiting for, Captain?” You gasp tangling your fingers into the golden locks of hair.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @badame1240 @regalbanshee

MARVEL: @multiyfandomgirl40 @purrrrfect @gemini0410 @nikkixostan @spidergirla5 @amethyst-butterfliess @mariska0610 @wanniiieeee @fanofalltheficsx @goldielocks2004 @spideysimpossiblegirl @nocturnalherb16 @jointhehunt67

steve rogers: @chibsytelford

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fluff

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fleetingpieces · 3 years

Text

My One in a Million Chapter 8

Hiiiii! I'm back from the dead and finally got back to writing again <3

Sorry it took ages—and sorry it's not a great chapter— but thank you so much everyone for the patience and support, it means so much!

Thank you @inloveoknutzy @donttouchmycarrots and @knittingdreams for beating, love y'all! <3

Tag list: @whataboutmyfries @justdyingontheinside @heyoitslysso @sunflowerfox87 @hereforwolfstarr @potterlocked24-7 @ttylfedora @domesticatedbeetlenamedjorge @lovemeleo @im-lana

CW: Mentions of food

Ao3

Masterlist

Chapter 8 - The morning after

Remus woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. He blinked a few times to get the tiredness out of his eyes—which seemed to want to stay glued shut—and stared at the ceiling for long moments.

His first thought was that, for a second, he thought he could hear Padfoot’s laugh. Vague images of a dream he’d had came flooding back to him; long corridors, empty beds and his gaming console. The sound must have been a remnant of that.

The second thought was that the ceiling of his room was weird. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where the bugging sensation came from, but something was off and he was way too tired to figure out what it was. Maybe he should just go back to sleep. Groaning, he turned around to do just that, and that’s when he got a good look at the rest of the room.

He sat up with a start, regretting it instantly when nausea hit him like a wave. Closing his eyes, he stayed still until the feeling ebbed away, then opened them again slowly.

This wasn’t his room. There was no sign of any of his stuff; instead, he saw a big mirror, a dark wood chest of drawers, and a trail of scattered things that either belonged to different people or to someone with diverse tastes: a blue hair tie, a black snapback, t-shirts that at a glance he could tell were of different sizes, with stamps that varied from Disney to Strand.

One by one, memories from the night before popped up as the fogginess from sleep left him completely. That’s right, Sirius had offered his home to him after he’d found Remus outside of his flat; he’d come in to take a shower and had sat on the couch as they watched a movie and drank. Things were a bit hazy from that point on.

Had he really pouted and asked Sirius to stay with him like a little kid? Fuck, please let that be a part of the drunk hallucinations. He turned around slowly, glancing to the other side of the bed with his heart beating fast in his throat, but the spot next to him was empty.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Remus threw the blankets to the side and planted his feet on the floor to get some resemblance of stability, but frowned when he stepped on something. Looking down, he noticed a pillow and a blanket lying rumpled on the floor, next to his side of the bed.

A pang of guilt made its way to his chest when he realised Sirius must have slept on the floor while Remus was on the bed, covered from head to toe and warm. Sirius had been so careful with him. Every touch had been gentle, not invasive but rather trying not to overstep, trying to comfort. So, so very careful.

Remus felt slightly ashamed for thinking Sirius would take advantage of him. Not to mention for the way he'd bawled his eyes out in front of the man. He’d made a fool of himself yet again, something that kept happening a lot as of late and to which he wasn’t used to.

“Oh, God.” He remembered how he’d felt his mother’s hand brushing his hair before he fell asleep and he desperately hoped he hadn’t called out for her in his dream. Bringing a hand to his forehead, he could almost feel that phantom touch, tracing fingertips over his hairline.

He rubbed his face in embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Sirius after all that, but there was no way he could fall asleep again and a quick glance at the clock on the opposite wall told him it was barely eight in the morning. It was still too early to call Leo or go back to the clinic, plus he didn’t know how everything had panned out.

Remus glanced at the bedside table where his phone was lying face down and stretched over to grab it. He flipped it from hand to hand, back and forth, the small thing weighing him down every time it fell on his palm with a soft thud.

He could call.

He should call.

But what if something had gone wrong? What if Cocoa had had a complication during the night? Would they have notified him already if that was the case? Did he want to find out like this, far away from him and helpless to do anything? He didn’t want to show any more weaknesses in front of Sirius, he’d already shown more of his vulnerable side than he’d ever intended to.

Nodding to himself, Remus got up and threw the phone on the bed. He took two steps towards the door. The doctor had told him to go in the afternoon; he could wait a couple of hours before going back to the clinic and then he would know and—

A huff escaped him as Remus hurried back and dialed the number, plopping down on the mattress.

“Thank you for calling Mercy Animal Clinic. This is Jennifer, how can I help you?”

“Yes, hi, my name is Remus? I brought my dog in last night for chocolate poisoning and I—I was just calling to check on him?”

“Of course, Sir. What is the patient's name?”

“Cocoa,” said Remus, gripping his phone a bit tighter. Jennifer hummed and asked for a few more details to confirm his identity, to which Remus replied on autopilot, his mind going blank in a subconscious attempt to protect himself.

“Just a second, please.”

Remus busied himself counting the floorboards while he waited, trying to calm his nerves, but it had the opposite effect as he became very aware of how long Jennifer was taking to find what he wanted to know. He’d started tapping his foot when the receptionist finally came back on the other end of the line.

“Yes, everything was ok during the night and Cocoa will be ready to go home after lunch,” they said cheerfully.

Remus’ breath stopped completely and then he exhaled loudly. He could have sworn he felt his heart unclench, invisible fingers letting go of their painful grip and allowing blood to stream freely again. His shoulders dropped, releasing all the pent up tension that had been building there since he’d stepped into his apartment the night before, and he laid down, covering his eyes with his free arm.

“Sir?” Jennifer said hesitantly.

“Yes. Ok. Ok. Thanks, I’ll be there.” He hung up and let the phone fall at his side.

The silence of the room was an echo of his own head as Remus tried to let the words sink in. He peeked at the ceiling from under his arm. Cocoa was fine. The phrase repeated itself a few times until Remus took a deep breath and swung himself up.

The hall was quiet outside of the room, but he could hear some noises coming from ahead. Remus bunched the sleeves of the jumper he was wearing, not too willing to admit how comfy and warm he was in Sirius’ clothes. Especially not when he was assaulted by memories of Sirius helping him walk through this same corridor the night before and Remus almost gave in to the embarrassment. Sirius probably thought he was pathetic.

Groaning, he steeled himself as he padded the rest of the way, but his step faltered before going into the kitchen, a hand rising to settle on the wall. Something smelled amazing in there. Like melted butter and Saturday mornings back home, with his mom humming as she stood by the stove and the sun streamed in through the open windows. The sound of the sizzling pan was accompanied by a rock song playing in the background, a cool guitar distortion filling the room, followed by a gravelly voice singing a capella.

And there was Sirius in the middle of it all, moving around the kitchen gracefully, head bopping and singing into a ladle. He slid across the floor like Tom Cruise in that old movie as he moved to the fridge and a chuckle bubbled out of Remus’ chest, taking with it most of the heaviness still clinging to him.

Sirius jumped up, accidentally closing the fridge door with a bang, and turned to face Remus fully. It was only then that Remus realized what he was wearing: he had black ripped jeans and a black tee, his hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail; and on top of all that, he had one of those aprons that had a buff man printed on the front, that read “Kiss the chef”.

Remus stared for so long that Sirius followed his gaze and looked down, only to look back up quickly with a blush. “It was James’ idea of a joke.”

James, as Remus was quickly learning, took special pleasure in teasing his friends, although Lily claimed he always failed when it came to her. But Sirius clearly treasured anything that came from his best friend, no matter how silly or awkward.

Clearing his throat, Remus stepped into the kitchen and peered at the stove. “What are you making?”

“Pancakes!” Sirius exclaimed, seemingly glad for the rapid move of the subject. “I thought you could use some hangover breakfast,” he added with a shrug before turning back to the mixing bowl on the counter.

“Oh,” Remus said dumbly, taken by surprise. He scrambled for something to add. “Did you get the recipe from the same place as those cookies?”

Sirius spluttered and threw an offended look over his shoulder. “Mon Dieu, I’m never going to live that down, am I? I’ll have you know, these are my speciality. But I won’t give you anything if you keep that attitude up.”

Laughing quietly, Remus breathed a sigh of relief that Sirius wasn't looking at him with pity or mentioning his sorry state from the night before. So much had happened between them in just one day, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act anymore. He shuffled awkwardly to the island and, as he leaned on it, the name of the song Sirius had been dancing to dawned on him.

“I can’t believe you’re actually listening to Black Dog,” Remus said, covering his face, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Hey,” Sirius turned to point at him with the batter-covered ladle, “Plant speaks to me on a spiritual level. I’m sending good vibes to Cocoa.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, making an effort to keep the corners of his mouth down. “You do know that the lyrics have nothing to do with dogs, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s the feeling that counts,” he waved his hand dismissively, sending a few vanilla-colored drops flying, “and the song title.” Smiling at that logic, Remus shook his head—as weird as it was, he found it reassuring. Sirius peered at him as he flipped the golden pancakes easily. “I’m glad you look better. How are you feeling?”

Remus tensed up, but it didn’t look like Sirius was making fun of him. Focusing on some point by his feet, he rubbed at his neck. "Yeah, um. Thank you for your help. And sorry about...everything. I guess it was one thing after the other and it was just too much.”

“We’ve been through this, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Sirius smiled tentatively. “Have they contacted you from the vets?”

“Actually, I called just now.” His heart rate picked up as excitement coursed through his body. Saying the words aloud made them even more real, allowed them to settle in and gave way to tiny pinpricks of impatience. “They said everything’s good. I can bring him home after lunch.”

Sirius turned to face him fully and his hand went to grip Remus’ forearm, his smile turning so bright it was almost blinding. “Remus, that’s great.”

Remus smiled too, staring straight at him. “Yeah,” he breathed. After a second too long, he coughed discreetly and moved back. “I just feel like I won’t be able to relax fully until I see him, you know? I wish I could go over now.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Sirius said as he leaned back too, fingers moving to play with the strings of his apron. “Just a few more hours, eh?” Remus hummed noncommittally and, sensing that he needed a bit of a distraction, Sirius turned his attention back to the food. “In the meantime, can you get the plates from over there?” He pointed at a cabinet as he got the pan out of the stove.

Remus did as he was asked and brought them over to the counter, where an array of toppings were waiting. His stomach grumbled as he watched Sirius cutting up some strawberries to place over the pancakes and then drizzling chocolate on top of everything, singing under his breath to the next song on his playlist. It was all oddly domestic. It was nice.

They sat in the living room to eat, though instead of sharing the couch like they had last night, Sirius—now without the ridiculous apron—sat across the coffee table on one of the armrests. Remus took a bite of the fluffy sponge and closed his eyes with a hum. “Ok, you were right. These are awesome.”

Sirius had just taken a mouthful himself, but he beamed before he swallowed and licked some of the chocolate off his finger. “Glad you like them, Re. I don’t think my reputation could have survived another fiasco.”

“Are you sure this wasn’t just a lucky mistake?” Remus joked, if only to ignore the way his stomach jumped at the nickname, prompting Sirius to throw a napkin at him.

For the next two hours or so, the conversation was light and easy while the music kept playing at a dim level. But, as time went on and the plates got piled up on the coffee table, Sirius started getting distracted.

He kept glancing at his phone like he was checking the time or waiting for a call. Remus would have thought that he was overstaying his welcome—Sirius had a life to get back to, after all—if it weren’t for the fact that the man kept the conversation going and going, asking questions and gesturing excitedly when he was telling a story about how he and his friends had once managed to get a flock of pigeons inside a train full of passengers. At this point, Remus was pretty sure that Sirius was not capable of lying.

A lazy breeze drifted in from the open window, bringing in the smell of morning dew and ruffling Sirius’ hair so that a few strands fell in front of his face. As he brushed them back, he raised his eyes and pinned Remus with a look that was slowly becoming very familiar. That look that said he wanted to say something but he was choosing his words carefully.

Remus was pretty sure he knew what that meant. So far, everything he’d blabbed about the night before had been skillfully avoided—mostly by Remus averting his eyes every time Sirius looked at him like that. He wasn’t looking away now though. Wasn’t sure he could, honestly; not with such intensity and thinly-veiled concern directed his way. Sirius opened his mouth, the words starting to form at the back of his throat when Remus’ phone pinged.

He jumped slightly and went to quickly fish it out of his pocket, holding on to the getaway it provided. Talking about his behaviour or the few hints he’d let slip about his past was not something he was ready to tackle. A quiet sigh dropped from Sirius’ lips as he got up to take the plates back to the kitchen, while Remus stared at the notification flashing on his home page. “Oh, Padfoot just uploaded a new video?”

The sound of ceramic banging in the sink startled Remus into looking up. “Um...you ok?”

“Yes! Too much soap,” Sirius’ voice came back, muffled slightly by the running water.

Remus snorted and got comfortable on one end of the couch, resting his back on the side and pulling his knees up. He wiggled his toes as he waited for the page to load, digging them into the plush sofa and then tapping his feet when the video finally started. It began like usual, with the starting screen of a game and Padfoot’s cheerful voice.

“Hello everyone and welcome! You’ve all been nagging at me to play with Prongs more often, so I hope you appreciate how much effort it took to get his ass out of bed.”

“That’s so not the introduction I was expecting,” another voice complained.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to do it?”

“Why, yes, thank you. Hello y’all! By popular demand and because I know you like me more than this silly goose, I am here to play some games and have fun! Mostly at Padfoot’s expense.”

“You’re the only person in the world who could say ‘silly goose’ and not have everyone laughing at them.”

“I know, it’s a skill I honed for years.”

“What the hell,” Remus laughed, shaking his head fondly.

Sirius came back into the room, drying his hands absentmindedly on his pants as he took his seat back. He sat at the very edge of the cushion, leaning slightly forward with his hands clasped between his knees, eyes down.

Remus made a questioning sound, waving the phone in front of him. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Sirius croaked, gesturing with his hand for him to go on as he cleared his throat.

A small line of confusion pulled Remus’ brows together. Something was definitely going through Sirius’ mind. Deciding to give the man some time, Remus focused his attention back on the video and made a note to ask later if something was bothering him.

Padfoot was talking about the game they were going to play and Remus could feel his energy even through the screen. He always got like this when he was trying something new. Remus pictured him bouncing on his chair, waiting impatiently to start playing, tapping the buttons in anticipation. “He’s like a kid on sugar, isn’t he?” he said without thinking.

A cough came from Sirius’ spot. “Well, I… I think it’s...nice? He sounds happy.”

The corners of Remus’ lips tugged up in a small smile at that. “Yeah. That’s good.”

“Huh?”

“He didn’t seem his usual self in the past few streams. I’m just glad he’s ok, is all.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw how Sirius’ hands gripped his knees tightly, slipping through the holes in his jeans. Remus watched in silence but, just when he was about to ask what was going on, the video changed. A small square appeared on one of the corners, showing a man sitting in a chair, not much to see in the background, his face covered with the black dog that was his signature logo. Remus sat up straighter. It wasn’t often that Padfoot appeared in his videos and he couldn’t help the interest that sparked inside him whenever it happened. He scanned the small image until something caught his eye.

“Huh? ...Wait. That’s—” Remus froze for a second before promptly throwing his phone to the other end of the couch. “Oh my God.” He covered his mouth, feeling the pull of his mouth as a grin lit up his face, his wide eyes not leaving the small device lying innocently face up. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“What happened?”

Remus turned to see Sirius looking at him with a confused little smile, probably wondering if he was still drunk or just bonkers.

“He...he’s wearing my merch. My merch.” And one of his favourite hoodies from the collection, at that. “How—How does he even know about me? I know he likes to keep in shape but…”

The faintest blush crossed Sirius’ cheeks. He rubbed his hands together, looking down at them and then back up at Remus’ still astounded face. He took a deep breath and exhaled in one go. “You know, I’m...” He trailed off, mouth opening and closing a few times.

Remus tried to bring his thoughts back to the room, to the man in front of him and not the one on the screen. He bent forward to grab the discarded phone, his mind still reeling as he paused the video. “Yeah?” he prompted Sirius to go on when he straightened back up, smile still in place—he wasn’t sure he could wipe it off even if he wanted to.

Sirius’ grey eyes roamed his face, then went to the phone in his hands before they finally settled on his bright expression and he sighed, smiling and shaking his head. “No, nevermind.”

Remus tilted his head, but Sirius simply shrugged. “Are you sure? You can say it, whatever it is.”

“I don’t think it’s the right time,” Sirius admitted, letting his head fall back as he worried his lip.

Curiosity flared up, dazzling and hot, and Remus tried to water it down, unwilling to trespass Sirius’ boundaries. Instead, he looked down and tried to organise his whirring mind, eyes going to the clock on his phone. “Fuck,” he muttered. He really wanted to finish watching and keep talking with Sirius, but it was getting late. “I should probably get going.”

“Oh,” Sirius blinked as he raised his head up. “You can stay if you want to.”

“No, I…” Remus stood up. “I should go get the key from Leo. I will probably see both his mom and mine, which means it won’t be a short visit and I’d like to be at the clinic as soon as possible.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Stopping midstep, Remus turned to look at Sirius, eyebrows raised. “Come with me?”

“Yeah, to the clinic? You are not too fond of them.”

It wasn’t a question, but Remus replied anyway, surprised that Sirius had caught on to that at all. “No, I’m not,” he said, dumbfounded. He shook his head. “But it’s ok, you did a lot for me already.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Remus, anyone in my place would have done the same.”

No, they wouldn’t.

“It’s fine, really. Leo will probably come with me,” he said. He wasn’t sure how Sirius could think that everyone was that selfless, that any person would have helped an almost stranger without thinking it was too much effort. Remus chose not to say anything about it, knowing fully well that was not the case.

#my one in a million #moiam #fanfic #remus x sirius #siriusxremus #sirius x lupin #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black

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daisybeewrites · 3 years

Text

July — d.j.

for @dreamcxtcherr ‘s 3k writing challenge. congrats lena!!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mention of car crash/death, mention of alcohol consumption, daisy cries, i think thats it lmk if not!!

ship: R x daisy johnson

okay y’all… first ever anggstttttt!!! i’m way too excited about it. if you want a fully immersive experience, i recommend listening to july by noah cyrus slowed + reverb

(gif uncredited on pinterest (ugh, i hate that. credit a gif if you use it!! im trying to find the owner)) update — found owner

It was another mission. Another nightmarish fire-fight where you almost lost a limb, almost lost a friend, almost lost your life. Twenty-four hours later and you’re back home, safe.

Well, as safe as you can be when your engagement is on the verge of breaking off.

You stare at the simple ring on your left hand. White gold band, a tiny amethyst set to the left of a diamond. There was a nearly identical one lying next to the sink, the only difference being the switched places of the glittering gems.

You know she didn’t do it purposefully. You had both been exhausted after what was supposed to be an in-and-out mission turned into a hostage situation. Daisy did what she always did as soon as you were home — take off her gauntlets, wash her hands in the sink, grab a snack, and hop into a steaming shower.

But you still can’t stop yourself from staring at it, eyes fixed, hands shaking, breath held and mind racing.

You used to join her. You would wash each other’s hair, ease each other’s sore muscles with delicate touches on tender purple-black bruises. She would lean into you, letting you braid her hair and falling asleep in your arms, drifting into a deep slumber. It was intimate, lovely; it was normal and perfect.

Taking a sip of your room-temperature beer, you slide off the cool granite of the kitchen island. You had a new routine after missions now, you just had to get used to it.

You hear the shower shut off, bare feet pad into your cosy bedroom, and the door shut with a loud creak. The minute squeak of the mattress tells you that Daisy flopped into bed.

A ghost of a smile lights your face. It looks more like a grimace, you think, as you check your distorted reflection in the green glass of your beer bottle. Chucking the empty bottle in the recycling, you run a hand through your dirty, salty hair. The comfy sweats you changed into an hour ago would need to be washed, the dirt still adorning your skin rubbing off on the black material. You exhale before heading down the hall towards the bathroom.

The tiled room is filled with steam, the mirror fogged up so that only a blurry outline of your silhouette could be seen. You are unrecognizable.

How fitting.

The quick, cold shower you take does nothing to ease your mind or body. You wipe the mirror in a circle, taking out a first aid kit.

With all your cuts bandaged and the proper creams Jemma had snuck to you and Daisy applied to your fresh bruises, you headed into the hallway in your towel.

Daisy is standing in the kitchen, lilac lounge shorts you bought her last Christmas showing off her tanned and scarred legs. She looks warm and soft, a very different Daisy than the superhero who had broken a mob boss’ legs just hours before. Her hair is wet and in braids. You frown. You always braid her hair.

If she hears you, she doesn’t turn around, so you take a moment to admire her. Ten seconds, that’s all you give yourself. It was a stressful mission, if you stare too long she might snap. From the back, you can’t see the dark circles you know are there, but you can see the tension in her shoulders and the slight tilt of her head as she ponders what to eat.

You say nothing as you go to the bedroom to change. You find a black pair of SHIELD sweats and an old, holey t-shirt you vaguely remember stealing from Fitz. A presence at the doorway catches your attention.

“Hi,” Daisy says tentatively. Your breath caught in your throat, your lungs holding the air captive until Daisy spoke again.

“I missed you.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe tonight wouldn’t end with one of you on the couch, clutching a six pack while the other cried as quietly as possible, tucked into cold, lonely sheets.

“Braiding my hair, I mean,” She clarified. Her fingers twisted together, rigid posture giving away her nerves.

The air felt humid, as if the open window had suddenly sucked all the AC out and let the mid-summer heat in. Your memory flashes to the last time you and Daisy had a normal, happy conversation.

The edges are fuzzy, but the pure joy in Daisy’s chocolate eyes is clear. Fairy lights strung haphazardly around the living room, a movie playing in the background, your lips on hers. Blankets make a ceiling over your head that shut out the rest of the world, this moment was only for you two. You played with the thin metal band on her ring finger, she ran her hands through her hair. Her matching ring scratched your scalp lightly. You both smile as you pull away. You whisper childhood stories, laugh at the funny parts and offer melancholic smiles at the not-so-lighthearted parts. You were happy.

That night you got the call — Lincoln Campbell, yours and Daisy’s best friend, had wrapped his car around a telephone pole coming off of a long shift at the hospital. His blood alcohol was almost .40.

Eggshells littered the house from the time you got back from the funeral. One wrong word, Daisy would snap and spend hours punching a bag until her fingers bled. You would fill those hours with whatever was closer — wine or your car keys. You pulled yourself out of your head, realizing you should answer her.

“I missed it, too,” You breathed.

Daisy made a small, unintelligible noise before collapsing against the door frame. You froze for only a second, your mind racing through possibilities. Was she bleeding internally? Was it her back again? Did she get shot and not notice until now?

You leap over to her, catching her as she crumbles to the hardwood floor.

A quiet sob wracks her chest. Your hands hover over her slouched back, unsure how to comfort her. At this moment, Daisy feels foreign. Her sudden vulnerability alerts you to how she’s been holding her emotions in for god knows how long.

“Daisy…” You start, hesitantly.

Daisy hiccups loudly, another wave of tears washing over her.

“Tell me to leave, I’ll pack my bags,” Daisy cried, “But I don’t, I-I don’t want to lose you!”

Burning tears gather on your lash line, threatening to fall at her words. You never could stand to see Daisy cry.

Your brows furrow slightly in confusion before you realize what Daisy is talking about. After Lincoln’s death, you two had fought increasingly more often until Daisy locked herself away or spent the night at May’s, and you went for drives until your car ran on empty. On those nights, bottles of wine disappeared from the cabinet without a trace.

Daisy sits up, stamping down her sobs, seemingly resigning herself to the fact that you aren’t going to say anything. Her trembling lip and red eyes pierce your heart. The astronomical distance between you two seems atomic now. You reach out quicker than lightning, shushing her cries and rubbing her back.

“Do you want to go?” You asked after a while. Your knees dig uncomfortably into the floor, your shoulder hurts from the ridges in the doorframe.

Daisy sniffles, her hair falling into her face as she looks away. You crane your neck down, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You know I’m afraid of change, I guess that’s why we’ve stayed the same,” You sigh, your chest constricting and squeezing the broken glass pieces of your heart.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to continue, “But if you want to find a new life, someone who loves you better than I do, darling, I understand.”

Daisy is still frozen, stare burning holes in the floor. You’re glad that the two of you are at home, the poly-tectic adaptive materials hidden between the walls keeping the house from collapsing. By the slight groan of the foundation, you can imagine Daisy could bring down a mountain with the amount of pain she’s in.

Which can only mean one thing.

“I’m not enough,” You stated. It wasn’t a question. You glance down, a glint in the low light cast from the lamp on the bedside table catching your eye. She has her ring on…

Daisy finally, finally shakes her head ‘no’. You let go of a breath, guilt building every second that passes. She isn’t happy. You shouldn’t be happy that she’s staying.

“Feels like a lifetime, we’ve been trying to get by while we’re dying inside,” You say, gently.

Daisy snaps her eyes to yours, a desperation in them you recognize as grief.

“So much of the past year has been consumed by grief. We never took time off, we never talked about it. I’ve done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one,” She whispers.

You nod, there is no denying that you each had a part in getting to where you are now. Delicately, you grab her hand. She squeezes it, a rush of small vibrations traveling up your arm. Your chest flutters at the familiar affection.

“So have I,” You assure her. She gradually falls towards you, exhausted. You let her rest her head on your shoulder, her breath evening out as her arms wrap around you. You feel hot tears flow down your face, fall onto her hair. Slowly, you pull Daisy closer to you.

Hours later, the sun peeks over the top of the mountain range in the distance. You had adjusted the two of you sometime around two a.m., no longer able to feel your legs from how the floor cut off your circulation.

Sometime around three, you had gathered the courage to move Daisy to the bed, trying hard not to wake her. She had only turned over and not let go of your hand.

You haven’t slept at all tonight, thoughts spinning until you force yourself to pause and count to ten, only to repeat the pattern.

You know what you have to do. You know what’s best for the both of you. You’ll leave, pack your bags and find a place to stay until you can scrape up enough money to rent an apartment. You’ll go to therapy, learn to live without Lincoln, without Daisy. Eventually, Daisy will heal, too. You both have the team at your backs, no matter what happens. She would be okay.

But you know you won’t. The fear of losing Daisy, of losing your life, your home, yourself stops you. You can’t move on. You can’t move forward.

You know that the big changes it takes to heal could cost you Daisy. So, you stay the same. You give into fear. You’ll never be enough, never love Daisy right, never quite heal fully — and neither will Daisy. But you still stay.

You’ll always stay the same.

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ahhhh how was it? did you love it? any feedback? want more? put any thoughts/feelings/questions/concerns in the comments or my ask box!! i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading it even more!!

<<3

#daisy johnson x y/n #daisy johnson x reader #marvels aos #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#angst #fic #quake #ashby writes #dousy #lincoln cambell x daisy johnson #lincoln cambell x reader #mcu #bioquake #jemma simmons #gn!reader

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dancingwiththeplanets · 3 years

Text

An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter two

Boba Fett x fem!reader

chapter 1 / masterlist

Summary: A few days after the incident in the throne room, Boba hovers around you like a shadow worried you’ll leave him. You try to reassure him through small, intimate moments with him that there’s no place you’d rather be.

A/N: Really trying to expand on the idea that a gorgeous palace lays hidden underground/ behind the throne room! Also, I think we can all start calling this Boba’s Palace now, jabba is gone. Sorry for the low quality edit it’s my first one haha

Warnings: dancing!boba, protective!boba, suggestive content, plain old day at the palace, soft!boba, not a lot of content tbh but cute moments and we get to know our OC Mandos Raul and Enzo, I didn’t plan this out, im sorry

Word Count: 4.5k+

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The ballroom, though practically useless in its existence and never actually having served its purpose, has recently become one of your favorite rooms in the palace. Initially, you didn’t know what to do with the space. It’s not like Boba seized at the idea of throwing a ball and inviting a group of strangers into the palace, providing anyone the opportunity to discover the secrets hidden behind the throne room. Let alone risk letting an adversary sneak their way in and stirring up trouble.

Nonetheless, you’ve taken it upon yourself to spruce the place up. It is, after all, one of the grander rooms in the castle, with paintings coating the ceiling and the walls bordered with columns.

It’s actually extremely beautiful, you’ve decided, wiping your forehead against your light-blue sleeve, frowning when it comes back brown from the dust that’s stuck to your face. It seemed like a sensible thing to wear this morning. A loose fitting blue blouse with flowy pants to match, secured in the middle by a slightly darker sash. Your pant legs were tucked into your boots so as not to get in the way. It was one of the more cozy and plain things you owned, though not poor in quality by any standards. The fabric was refined, flowy and soft against your skin. Quite honestly, even in your working clothes, you looked nicer than you felt you deserved to. But far be it for Boba to allow his princess to wander around in anything but the best.

The week you’d moved in was a busy one, filled with surprises and adjustments that were quite honestly overwhelming. You arrived at Boba’s palace with a literal sack over your shoulder, enough to stash your small wardrobe of two garments and a few trinkets of personal value. Tatooine was a simple place, you only owned what you absolutely needed. And you, being a young and simple waitress at the local cantina, could barely make enough to cover your cost of living. You were never awarded the luxury of having needless objects.

The first few days of your arrival, Boba had stuck to your side like glue, making sure you got around okay and had everything you needed. Initially, he’d even had a seperate room made up for you to stay in. It was absolutely beautiful, by far the lightest room in the entire palace, though lacking in a window. It was one of the biggest, not as impressive as his own chambers, but still spacious. He decorated the room with paintings and furniture and accented the space with hues of blue and gold. Unfortunately, the pretty room barely got any good use out of it.

Boba escorted you to your quarters on your first night, cradling your chin and kissing your forehead at the door, bidding you goodnight. He reminded you where you could find something to sleep in, having delighted himself in surprising you with an entirely new wardrobe.

You pulled on a satin, lavender slip, admiring the foreign material for a long while as it weighed so delicately on your form. You took your time readying yourself for bed before crawling in and feeling engulfed by pillows. Once you settled, left alone to your anxious thoughts and feelings, you suddenly felt overwhelmed by the exquisite room embracing you. A flutter of giddiness and exhilaration filled you, your mind and body enraptured by the day's events. You felt absolutely spoiled.

Feeling bold on an entirely unnatural level, you slipped away from the warm, velvety comforter and tiptoed to the door. With a rush of courage, your hand met the handle and you stepped out, bare feet cold against the tile floor. You peeked around before quickly darting down the hall, forever grateful that not a soul was around to see your practically naked form running by, before ascending the stairs that led to Boba’s door.

You lifted your hand, your knuckle knocking gently three times against the rough surface.

You heard Boba shifting on the other side of the door, tugging down on your nightgown that just barely cleared your thighs. The hinges of the door creaked as they turned, opening slowly to reveal a very smug looking Boba in just his underclothes.

He hummed, eyes tracing over your form with a shake of his head. “Wandering the halls looking like that.” He chided, gently grabbing you by the waist and pulling you through the door, “That’ll get you into trouble, little one.”

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

You smile as you recall the memory. Suffice to say, you didn’t end up sleeping in your own quarters that night, or any night after that, for that matter. Though Boba’s honorable gesture in providing you with your own space was not lost on you.

Continuing on with your endeavors, you move to stand from your crouch on the ground, simultaneously trying to tighten the blue sash wrapped around your middle. You gasp as you run into a hard surface, exhaling in relief as Boba braces you in front of him.

Mumbling an apology, you watch as his helmeted face looks you up and down, steady hands holding you out from him.

“What?” You ask, a smile making its way to your cheeks.

“Your outfit, it...looks like something I wore as I boy.” He says adoringly, now fondling the blue sash at your hips.

You glance down again at your form, a matching blue blouse and trousers tucked into simple black boots. “I...look like you as a young boy?” You counter, earning a deep chuckle from your lover.

“Well I looked rather plain in it,” He says, “I don’t think I looked half as radiant as you do.”

“So you do like it?” You ask.

“Of course I like it,” He grins, “I bought it.”

You shake your head as you carry on with your tasks, allowing Boba to shadow your movements for a while before leaving you again to carry on with his own agenda.

You spend the next few hours actively scrubbing away at the room, feeling especially motivated to complete it, not like all the other half-finished rooms scattered about the palace, which is partly your fault. But the ballroom felt different, once you dusted away all the grime and filth and replaced the lighting in the ceilings to give the room more life, it really started to come together. Unfortunately, your previously clean clothes and skin were paying the price for the hard work being done, you definitely looked a little worse for wear. Wisps of hair beginning to tickle your cheeks from where they’d fallen loose from your braid.

Currently, you were taking extra care to polish a beautiful mosaic decorating the inside of an archway. Thousands of small, colorful shards lined neatly together to form the image of a bold Tatooine sunset. One of the few grand beauties your home planet was known for. A surprisingly lovely work of art left behind, albeit not properly cared for, by the previous inhabitants of the palace.

You admire the artwork for a while after polishing it to near perfection, letting your bum fall to the floor and legs splay out comfortably in front of you. Your wrists support your upper body, arms holding you up as you lean back onto them, head tilting lazily to one side.

You find yourself distracted from your glossed over gaze by Boba, who seems to have wandered his way in here for the third time today. Enzo tails him a few paces behind, but stops to stand guard idly by the door. You can’t imagine he or Raul feel as though they serve any real purpose wandering these empty halls, probably much preferring when they get to patrol the throne room or secure the perimeter.

Boba approaches you, pausing over your fatigued form and huffing out a laugh when you don’t move to stand, instead opting to gaze up at him with tired, doe eyes. He holds a hand out to you and you groan, placing your palm in his as he hoists you up.

“The room looks lovely.” He says, voice raspy through the modulator as he looks around.

The praise makes you smile. “Come see what I found,” You say, leading him by the hand. You open a large dresser to the right, stuffed full of old vinyls and a polished record player sitting proudly atop. You carefully choose a record, placing it beneath the needle and starting the track, allowing it to play soothingly in the background as you guide him around the rest of the room.

He follows you around, listening to you babble about the lovely art on the ceiling and how nice the light looks coming through the one, boxy window at the top. He watches the childlike sparkle and admiration in your eyes as you point out different things you’ve noticed, the excitement trickling out in your tone.

His mind contemplates how different this life is from the one you used to have. You went from a one room, compact home, just barely big enough for your small bed, to a palace filled with grand staircases, hallways and countless bedrooms, a blissful dream in your eyes. Nevermind the fact that you were still stuck on Tatooine. In fact, you seemed happy to stay, oddly attached to the sandy planet, something Boba found amusing.

A couple trips around the room later, and a few songs having gone by, the two of you now stand in the center of the empty room. Him, groaning in protest, and you, placing his hand on your waist yet again. You’ve spent the last few minutes trying to teach him a basic waltz, something your father had taught you when you were little. A rare memory you shared with him before he...well-

“Boba,” You scold with a giggle, “Try again.” Your request earns you another frustrated grumble from your partner. At some point you were able to coerce him into dancing with you, having pleaded desperately when your favorite classic came on. “C’mon, you nearly had it that time!”

He sighs loudly, tilting his helmet in an exasperated fashion. “Last time,” He says with finality, his finger raised in your direction.

You nod your head, an amused grin spread wide on your face.

He holds tight to your waist and reaches for your other hand, a final effort to humor you.

“And...1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3..” You begin moving again to the music, trying to swallow the snicker working its way up at the image of your armored partner staring at your feet for guidance. Visor following your every move, looking unsure and sloppy and quite honestly graceless.

You jump at the voice of a forgotten presence in the room.

“No! No, no, no, boss.” Enzo finally pipes up, his silent and judgemental self unable to be contained any longer. He moves forward with a swagger in his step as he struts towards you from his previous position against the wall, “You’ve gotta lead her by the waist,” He says pointedly, reaching for you “Observe-”

Boba’s arm shoots out, blocking Enzo by the pauldron, “You touch her, you're a dead man.” He growls, deflecting his attempt to take you by the waist.

You jerk slightly at the interaction, rolling your eyes and waiting for the show of dominance to subside.

Enzo’s hands raise in surrender, bowing away respectfully before returning to his earlier stance, no doubt a grin slapped on beneath his visor.

Boba’s hand returns to your waist with a shake of his head, noting your half-suppressed chuckle, evidently amused by the encounter.

“Alright,” He grunts, “once more.”

You start counting aloud, moving at a pace Boba can keep up with. You step out on the final eight count and slowly twirl back into his arms, your back now braced against his front. He tugs at your hips, holding you closer, “Mm,” He hums in your ear as you sway in your position, “Well I do like this.”

The sound of his accented voice filtering through the modulator sends a shiver down your spine, and you breathe out a light exhale as he releases you a moment later, turning you to face him.

“See,” You sigh, “You can dance.”

He hums in response, turning around to retrieve his weapon.

You move to face your hired gun, again leaning casually against the entryway.

“Do you actually know how to dance, Enzo?” You ask, reflecting on his earlier attempt at an intervention.

“-Wouldn’t matter if he did.” Boba interjects loudly over his shoulder, dismissing any ideas before they transpired.

You hear a light chuckle emitting through Enzo’s modulator, turning back to see his stance remaining motionless aside from the slight jerk in his shoulders.

Boba returns to your side, tapping his forehead against yours in an obvious farewell.

Your head falls heavily to one side as you tenderly hold one of his gloved hands, fingers tracing the rough fabric of his own. “Is that all the time you’ve allotted for me today, my king?” You say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips.

“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” He replies, “But perhaps I’ll come find you in a bit, see what further progress you’ve made.”

You nod, a slight frown tugging on your lips. You hesitate raising the concern suddenly weighing in your mind.

Ever since the incident with Crane occurred, Boba’s been...watchful. It’s not that he wasn’t protective of you before, it’s just that in the past few days he’s been protective of you in an entirely different way. He’s been hovering and checking in on you almost compulsively. Whereas before he seemed to want to keep you away during the busy hours of his day, now he seemed to want you near enough to reach in a moment's notice. Almost as if he’s worried you’ll abandon him when he’s not looking.

You wonder how he can still feel so worried after sharing such a fun and intimate moment with you.

So, you’ve given him some extra leeway, allowing him to hover to his heart's content until he seems secure in knowing that you’re not going anywhere.

That being said, you really didn’t mind Boba’s loitering close by to wherever you happened to be, you only wish you knew he wasn’t doing it because of the events that conspired earlier in the week.

“Boba,” You say lightly, catching his arm as he turns. “You don’t need to keep checking up on me, I’m not...you know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

He pauses at your words, hands stilling in their endeavor to tighten up loosened pieces of clothing and armor. You hope you haven't upset him in calling out his unusual conduct.

He averts his gaze to the side, pausing a moment before turning back to you. “I know.” He says nodding, a slight hint of defeat in his tone.

You hope perhaps some flattery will comfort him, stepping closer and lifting your gaze to meet his own. “My king,” you say in admiration, “You are a very busy man. You have a planet to rule. And an underworld to dominate. There are many things that I know put strain and worry in your mind, but whether or not your partner will still be here when you go looking for her should not be one of them.”

He doesn’t make any movements, and the face of his visor does little to allow you access to his thoughts.

“What I mean to say is,” You continue, “Go rule your empire. Your princess is safely stashed away in the palace you’ve encompassed her in.”

He breathes out a chuckle, and you smile, “I am happier here with you than I ever thought I’d be. I don’t want to be anywhere you won't be too, Boba Fett.” You reiterate your words from your conversation a few days ago. One that both started and ended with the two of you in tears. A rare moment between the two of you indeed. An exceedingly painful incident for him, having showcased the true depth of his love for you in such an unexpected and vulnerable way. And for you, to have seen the strongest and most fearless man you have ever known brought down to his knees, in tears, was absolutely gut-wrenching, especially in knowing that his own insecurities about your love had driven him to feel such fear.

You squeeze his arm and kiss the cheek of his helmet in valediction. His unmoving visor lingering on your face for an extended moment.

Boba’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, pulling you forward slightly before gently meeting you in the middle with his own helmet. Your foreheads pressed together in an intimate and tender kiss.

He pulls away silently, giving you a nod, a gesture you return with a small smile before watching him exit the room, Enzo in tow.

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

You make your way to the kitchens, stomach growling unhappily at having been neglected all afternoon.

You pause under the doorway.

“I’ve seen you far too much today,” You sigh, feigning exasperation at the sight of Enzo shifting through the pantry for a meal to take to his room.

He stops his digging, turning to face you standing under the doorway before spinning back around.

“Vod’ika,” He greets, “Soup?” He holds a can up over his shoulder while reaching for a pot below the stove.

“No, thanks.” You say, approaching his station.

You pick up the canister of tomato soup, looking it over. “I doubt this tiny thing is even enough for just you.”

He glances down at the can in your hand. “I’ll do two then.”

You roll your eyes, what is it with these massive Mandalorians and not understanding proper nourishment?

“No, no.” You chide, “At least attempt to incorporate a healthy balance into your diet. Something with protein, maybe? Make a grilled porg-and-cheese melt to go with the soup. You can dip it in the broth, it’s delicious.”

His teal visor meets your face, shifting in uncertainty. “Can you do it?”

You sigh, “Fine.”

You get out the sandwich makings, opting to make one for yourself as well. You smear the bantha butter along four pieces of bread and grill them on a pan, layering sliced porg and cheese slices afterward.

You hear footsteps approaching the kitchen just as you’re pulling the finished sandwiches off the stove.

“Raul!” You greet with a smile, Enzo’s head whips in your direction. “We’re making sandwiches, want one?”

“You never sound that excited to see me.” Enzo declares.

You giggle at the accusation, sliding his sandwich onto a plate and handing it to him.

“Can I make you one, Raul?” You repeat.

He sighs, “No kid, thank you.” He steps forward and pulls Enzo’s plate from his hands, placing it away from him on the counter.

“Aye!” Enzo protests, wanting to transport his hot meal to his room so he could eat.

“We work for her,” Raul says, articulating the ‘we’ with an exaggerated hand gesture between the two of them. “You should be making her sandwich, not the other way around.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” You groan, looking between the pair of Mandalorians.

“Yeah, Raul,” Enzo mocks, a slightly more threatening air to his tone. He retrieves the stolen soup and sandwich, “Don’t be a di’kut.”

Raul’s helmet tilts slightly at Enzo’s words. Not knowing exactly what the word means, but starting to get an unsettling feeling in your stomach, you attempt to intervene, “Guys-”

Just a moment too late.

Raul clamps a hand on Enzo’s arm, jolting him back from trying to pass him. His hand smacks the plate out of Enzo’s hand, the glass shattering before it even reaches the floor, and the soup and sandwich splattering everywhere.

“I made that-” You frown.

Now with two free hands, Enzo grips Raul’s shoulders and shoves him back against the brick ovens, a rough grunt escaping Raul when his helmet meets the open face of a hanging pan.

“Please stop-” You yelp, wincing as Enzo’s fist uppercuts into the weak spot under Raul’s helmet.

For being half a head shorter and not as obviously built as his opponent, the Mandalorian in black and teal armor could sure hold his own.

Raul spits something out in mando’a, his words seething as he grabs onto the cuff of the smaller Mandalorians neck covering and throws him with little exertion to the floor. You hear the crunching of glass beneath Raul’s boots as he growls with a foot on pressing to Enzo’s chest in an effort to force him into submission.

“-I wish you guys wouldn’t always do this.” You sigh, not bothering to shout anymore over the sound of beskar scraping against beskar.

You slide from your seat, taking your sandwich with you as you circle around the room to avoid becoming collateral damage in the red Mandalorian’s show of dominance.

“I have never witnessed two people fight over something so stupid in my life!” You call out behind you, tearing a piece of your sandwich off and popping it into your mouth. Leaving the sound of metal crashing against stone behind you.

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

You sigh when you finally reach your room, ascending the steps inside your chambers to reach the bedroom. You’re about to sit down on the bed when you catch sight of your reflection, covered in dust patches and knee stains from when you scrubbed against the floor. You opt to take a quick shower instead, washing out all the grime gathered in your hair and skin.

It takes a couple minutes of harsh scrubbing for the water to stop running off your body brown. You take extra care to wash behind your ears and around your hairline, where dirt likes to plant itself firmly.

You turn the water off when the last few soap suds slide off your hair, wrapping yourself in a warm towel.

Taking a glance out the window, you note that the suns are already setting low on the horizon, and resign yourself to just staying in for the rest of the night.

You pull on a slip dress and wrap yourself in Boba’s robe, inhaling his comforting, musky scent. You reach for your book on the nightstand before lighting a couple of candles around the space, creating a warm and cozy environment.

Satisfied with the aesthetic you set around you, you plop down on your bed and hope to get a few chapters into your novel before Boba gets home. Admittedly getting distracted a couple times by the stunning, shaded view out your window, exposing you to the last few moments of the captivating sunset.

Boba comes home a little over an hour later, the glow in your chambers now reduced to only a few lamps and the candlelight spread about your room, but enough to alert Boba of your presence.

You hear his heavy armored footsteps trudging up towards the bedroom. You turn your head expectantly when he reaches the top. Helmet in hand, he pauses for a moment upon seeing you, admiring the image of your figure wrapped up in his robe and curled up with a book, before stepping forward and greeting you with a kiss.

He pulls back, gaze immediately flickering to the window, probably having noticed it immediately upon entering the room but choosing to greet you before acknowledging it.

You groan internally, knowing what's coming.

“Mesh’la,” He hums, frowning at the open curtains exposing you to the darkness of the Tatooine night. A few dim lights from Mos Eisley shining in the distance. He steps forward to slide the curtains closed, you don’t complain, only having wanted them open for sunset. “What have I told you, little one? It's not safe to have these open.”

“I only just opened them, Boba.” You fib a little, hoping to reassure him.

He nods, unconvinced, before beginning to strip himself of his armor. You observe him unlatch the beskar piece-by-piece, placing the armor neatly in its designated chest.

He groans loudly when he sinks down beside you, arms raising behind his head.

You giggle at his tired show of soreness, eyes still glued to the pages of your book. “Old man,” You mutter.

“Watch it.” He growls lowly. You glance a peek at him, eyes closed heavily against his cheeks.

You ponder your bravery for a moment, sticking your nose back in your book before impulsively whispering, “Relic.” You shriek, bursting into a fit of laughter as he suddenly reaches over and wrestles the book out of your hands, using it to plant a harsh smack on your behind.

“Boba Fett!” You squeal, hands moving to shield your bum as the vibrations from his deep laugh shake the bed.

Still holding the book up in a threatening manner, a childlike gleam in his eyes, he challenges you, “Apologize.”

You consider tossing another remark out, eyes darting to the book in his hand, before deciding against it tonight.

Instead, you hoist yourself up onto your knees, allowing his robe to slowly slide down your form and meet the duvet, revealing the thin slip below. His closed-lip smile increases a little, eyes tracing down your form, book lowering slightly in the space above where he lay.

You crawl forward until your chest hovers above him, noses nearly touching, “My apologies, my king.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He deepens the kiss with a groan, your hand reaching back to grip your novel, which he allows you to slip from his fingers.

You let him attack you lips for another moment before you pull away. Having gotten what you wanted, you shift back to your side of the bed, turning to the page you left off at.

A deep chuckle rumbles out from Boba’s chest. “Alright, little one.” He says, “I'll let you play your game.”

He turns the light out on his side of the bed, pulling the blankets out and over the two of you before moving to embrace your form, leaning close to whisper in your ear, “-this time.”

A shiver runs down your spine and you try to resist the smile tugging at your lips, though you feel his own brushing against your ear in satisfaction.

“Tomorrow,” He says, shifting a little above you, “I’m heading into Mos Eisley with Fennec.

“What for?” You ask, finally marking your page and setting it aside.

“Nothing,” He grumbles, “I need to put on a little show of...authority, for a few people.”

You hum, “No big deal?” You question.

“Just a local inconvenience.” He gripes.

You nod slightly, not requiring any elaboration. You suppose you’ll have to entertain yourself tomorrow. “Well then, maybe I’ll have Raul teach me how to wield a dagger,” You quip, a grin back on your face.

Boba huffs out an amused puff of air, “I’d much prefer you with a blaster.” He says, apparently taking the idea seriously, “You don’t need to be up close to use it.”

“We’ll see then,” You say, standing to turn out the rest of the lights.

A single lit candle from your bedside table casts a warm glow over Boba’s face, eyes closed and head still leaning back against your bed-frame pillow.

“Get back on your side,” You chuckle, nudging him as you crawl back into your space.

“M’fine here.” He mumbles, leaning further over onto your pillow.

You smile, his body encasing yours and his nose presses into your neck.

“I’ll be fine here too you know.” You mutter, referencing the day you’ll be spending without his guard.

“You finally gonna stop worrying about me?” You tease, having received no response.

He shakes his head, snuggling deeper into your neck, “Never.”

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

A/N pt.2: So I wrote this and I thought it was great then I read it back a few times and realized literally nothing happened haha im so sorry 😅😅😅

Literally spent too many hours on this not to upload though so I suppose here’s a filler chapter my bad lots of love 🥰

#an angel amongst demons #Boba Fett #boba x reader #boba x you #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din djarin #mando #boba!palace #soft!boba #king!boba #boba fett x reader #boba's palace

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