#thank you to the group chat for helping with this one. no notes on the last one just cuz it'll be at the bottom of the post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyswan · 3 months

Text

summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

1K notes · View notes

cyborg-franky · 4 months

Text

Their reaction when you give them your number

Some headcanons!

SFW GN Reader Chars: Ace, Robin, Marco, Kid, Killer, Buggy

Ace

He’s been flirting back and forth with you the entire time you’ve been working. He came in for his brother's friend's birthday but has spent more time talking to you and honestly? You didn’t mind. He was cute, funny, and very sweet. His flirting was a little awkward at times, you guessed as handsome as he was he had some self-esteem issues. But the more you talked with Ace the more his confidence grew.

It was late and pretty quiet, he chatted to you about his brothers as he leaned on the bar, you cleaned and got ready to close, just enjoying his voice, and how genuinely caring he seemed. It was then you grabbed a piece of paper, wrote your number on it, and slid it across the bar.

“What’s that? How much of a tab did me and those idiots wrack up…” He hummed and flipped the paper over, his eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up when he saw the number. You couldn't help the sly smile on your face when you could see the blush on his cheeks, even in the low light of the bar.

You sure hoped he’d call. He chuckled and put it in his pocket, trying to act cool about it even with his cheeks on fire.

Robin

She had to have been the most beautiful woman to have ever set foot in your store. The way she walked around in her summer dress, the fabric flowy in the breeze, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear as she picked up a huge heavy book, her eyes scanning each with a smile on her lips.

You felt entranced and intimidated by her in equal measure. Each movement was poised and elegant. She glanced over her shoulder and saw you staring at her, the sparkle of mischief in her eyes reached the sly smirk.

Grabbing an arm full of books so big you could murder a man with she set them down on the counter and you had to try and remember how to talk again. “Is it okay if I buy a coffee and read one of these?” You nodded, she could have robbed you and you would have thanked her.

As she paid for her books you quickly wrote your number on a note and slipped it in one of the books as you placed it in a bag for her. She bought her coffee and books and sat down on one of the big armchairs. You gripped the edge of the counter when you noticed she went right for the book you’d put your number in.

Robin saw the piece of paper and shot you the most wickedly sinful smile you felt your heart would explode.

Marco

He came into your work at least once a week, maybe more, and his order was always the same. He was a creature of habit but never boring. You always stood and chatted with him between his order and bringing it to him. He was polite and handsome and always had this lazy smile on his face that you found yourself looking forward to seeing.

Marco always had a kind word for you, would comment on your hair, how you wore it that day, how your new shirt was nice and suited you. He was full of compliments but he never came across as creepy. You adored his voice, his laugh, and how he always had a crazy story about his friends.

You felt like you knew them.

One night he came in with some of those said friends, a rowdy bunch but just like him, polite and chatty. You set down the tray of drinks and Marco leaned back in his seat taking his. “They make the best drinks, it’s why I come back all the time,” Marco said before sipping his drink.

“Yeah, right, that's the only reason.” Thatch teased and got a nudge. You didn’t know what the man meant by that but Marco met your eye and gave you a sheepish smile.

The group all started to leave and the man with the big hair, Thatch, came over to pay the bill. “Hey, I think you and Marco might have a sweet spot for one another, sorry if I’m misreading that but… maybe you could give me your number, to pass on?”

You blinked, processing what he was asking before grabbing a coaster and writing it on. Thatch paid and practically ran to Marco and brandished the coaster at him. “Got you a present!” Marco looked at it, then back at you. You watched as the smirk on his face grew and he placed it in his pocket.

Kidd

His entire group was loud but you didn’t mind. You were used to his sort coming to this bar, parking their motorbikes outside, and stomping into the bar with their heavy boots and loud voices. They’d been polite enough to you though.

Serving them rounds of beers when they raised their hands, always paying. You knew this group pretty well by now. The red-haired man who was the leader spoke with you casually. He leaned on the bar and laughed at jokes and comments yelled over the room at him.

“Got anything fun planned this weekend?” You asked as you handed him another beer, he took a swig before thanking you. You could see him thinking over your question, you always had a feeling he and his gang got up to all sorts. Maybe he was debating on what he could tell you.

“Nah, unless you wanna finally fess up to being into me an’ wanna hang.” He said, the smirk on his painted lips, showing his teeth. He was cocky and overconfident but God daaamn did it work.

“What makes you think I’m into you?” You asked, well, he was right but still.

“Babe, I just know, so gunna give me your number or do I have to beg?” Kidd asked with a gleam in his eyes. You loved feeling you had all the power in this situation. You met his eye before ripping off a piece of a poster hanging up behind you and putting your number on.

“You don’t have to beg, this time.” You chuckled and handed it to him. He laughed loudly and put it in his jacket pocket, looking smug.

He’d won.

Killer

Killer came into your shop every other week, always for something for his bike. It could be a check-up, a new decal, a sticker or just to get someone to clean it. He was a man of few words but he was pleasant to be around. His small talk was never dull or seemed forced, he enjoyed hearing your stories and learning about you.

Sometimes you even got to hear his voice, get to learn about his life; How he was part of a group who drove around together. You were very intrigued by him. The way he’d take off his helmet and all that blonde hair would come tumbling out, you could have sworn the world become slow motion whenever he did that.

He was gorgeous.

“Going for a drive this weekend?” You asked when he set down his helmet, one of the mechanics working on his bike already. He shook his head “Just thought I heard something when I’d started her,” he said and stared across the room.

Killer didn’t leave, didn’t go for a walk, instead while his bike was being checked he simply stood and talked to you. It was nice, he was a good guy. The mechanic came in and handed you the paperwork. You looked it over.

“Good news! The small issue has been fixed and since your in here all the time we won’t charge the normal rate,” your heart was beating when you sneakily wrote your number on the paper and handed it to him.

He said his goodbyes and walked away, reading over the paper before he noticed the number, he turned and looked at you. Wordlessly, effortlessly cool he just gave you the thumbs up and grinned.

Buggy

He was a strange guy, how he seemed to think he was so slick every time he came in. Acting like this wasn’t the 18th time he’d been in this week. He was strange, sure, but he was cute and no one had made you laugh so much. Sometimes you didn’t think he meant to be funny on purpose, his charm was just a silly guy.

But as goofy as he came across he was still unreasonably handsome and had his own brand of charisma that had you so taken with him. He came in on his way back from work and asked for his regular order, which you knew by heart now.

He would go on about his day, complaining about someone called Shanks that he worked with. The way he told his stories was so over the top and so hilarious that you couldn’t help but stand there chuckling and hanging on to his every word.

“So yeah, that dickhead set me back like 20 minutes.” He mumbled and sipped his shake, eating a few fries “Well, hopefully, your weekend will be better.” you said as you refilled the napkin holder.

“I’ll still be in though, I gotta get my fix.” He said and held up his drink, you weren’t sure if that was all he meant either. “Oh no, I won’t be in, I have the day off.”

He seemed crestfallen at that news, deflating in his seat with a frown. “Ah..” he mumbled as he stuffed more fries into his mouth. “But maybe we can arrange something?” you pulled out a napkin and wrote down your number, setting it next to him.

Buggy had been drinking at that moment, he stared at your number and snorted, his shake and the straw shooting to the back of his throat, causing him to splutter, some of his drink coming out of his nose as he became a flustered mess.

You laughed and watched him grab at handfuls of napkin to clean himself, wheezing as he did so, trying and failing to calm himself down, he croaked out “Sounds great…”

1K notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 21 days

Note

This isn't a request but I'm brain rotting rn about imagining Emma is once again at a toman meeting with another 'girl' and Draken of course scolds her and is like "Don't go bringing your schoolmates to a gang meeting," but it's actually reader crossdressing and Mikey's new bf

Thank you, bye bye I had to tell somebody and I thought you would like it. 🤧

Title: cross dressing

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Pairing: Mikey x reader

Warnings: slight au, male reader, cross dressing, fluff

Notes: made some slight alterations for the sake of hahas

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

Mikey was slightly annoyed as he heard his younger sister brought someone to a Toman meeting, the girl making friends at university and he often saw her friends when he got home from gang stuff or helping shinichiro with his shop on occasion.

What he wasn't expecting was (name) to be dressed in cute feminine clothes and a mini skirt, tucked flat-- Mikey chuckled silently to himself as he knew (name) probably regretted letting Emma get into drag racing shows. Draken scolded the girl as (name) glanced around and saw Mikey leaned back on his chair with his legs spread, slicked back blond hair showing off his tattoos as he winked before blowing out smoke from his cigarette.

(Name) And Mikey had recently begun dating, the blond initially hesitant when he learned Emma had a male friend and Draken nearly hostile at his girlfriend being so close to the cute boy but they quickly realized that (name) was not interested in Emma or any other girl.

What Draken didn't know was that Mikey immediately went on the hunt, practically popping up anywhere (name) was to flirt with him and eventually begin dating him.

So when the twenty-one year old saw his boyfriends bare thighs swished slightly by stockings and that cute skirt, (name) looked nervous at the look he gave him though... The Toman underlings who stood in position in the back garden of Toman headquarters didn't see the look as their boss being a horny bastard but instead saw it as annoyed.

To be fair, Mikey was incredibly hard to read.

"She can stay but she has to stay out of the way, we aren't responsible if she gets hurt" Draken sighed and kissed Emma's forehead as the blond girl beamed up at the tattooed man "thanks Kenny!" She said sweetly and the giant of a man grumbled but didn't say anything.

(Name) Sat with Emma quietly as they started their meeting, Emma and (name) chatting amongst themselves and working on a project, (name) explaining his half and what he was doing.

They didn't even notice the meeting end until Mikey wandered to them "oi" he said passively as (name) looked up confused and Mikey raised his hand, many members holding their breaths only for Mikey to grip (name)s neck and kiss him softly "what" Baji said confused, he was fully ready to get the cute girls number but seems Mikey got to her first.

"What's with the clothes? They look weird" he asked confused and mitsuya looked up from his laptop, working on business expenses that he will be sending to Koko later "Mikey! Don't tell a girl her clothes look weird! That's rude!"

"But (name) isn't a girl" Mikey said bluntly as he plopped beside (name) and draped himself over the other "I just made (name) wear girl clothes, he owed me a favor" Emma said sweetly "besides he looks cute! Don't judge my fashion Mikey!"

"Wait, she's a dude?" Pah said confused and (name) nodded "yeah "

"Wait why did Mikey kiss you?" Chifuyu was also confused, a group of grown ass men who ran a notorious gang and made illegal millions couldn't figure out was a relationship for the life of them.

"(Name)s my boyfriend" Mikey said bluntly, Draken connecting the dots fast.

That would explain why Mikey went to a specific apartment often.

And based on how he played with (name)s skirt...

He would be going back pretty damn soon.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #mikey tokyo revengers #x male reader #mikey x male reader

523 notes · View notes

suibiansubs · 2 months

Text

Announcing: The Closure of Suibian Subs

It's never truly easy to make these type of announcements... but what would I know, I've never had to make one like this before:

I am announcing the permanent closure of Suibian Subs. The public discord server and translation work will cease.

As for our downloads, we are still deciding whether to offer them on our tumblr - which will stay open - or if there is a better solution going forward.

Please note that this doesn't mean everyone should race to upload MDZS audio drama to Youtube!! We still do not appreciate our wishes being broken.

However, if you have a friend who's downloaded the audio drama, you can have them share with you privately either online or in person. Do not upload it for the public anywhere.

Treasure Chest subs is currently working on MDZS audio drama subs. Please find their information to get access to their downloads, and respect their rules.

Thank you everyone for your kind words and support these 6-7 years.

If you're truly wondering, this closing is not about the server hack. It's 10% server hack and 90% member interest. The server being hacked is what really brought things into perspective for us. That is:

It's just time.

A little note from kittykat2010 down below:

From kittykat2010:

It's kind of hard to believe this all happened because I was impatient. LOL

I was impatient and decided to try MTL translating the MDZS audio drama, myself. We all know how well that would've worked. Luckily, the first person to contact me was iarrod before I released anything

"Since 2018, Suibian Subs has been providing quality subtitles, especially known for subtitling the MDZS audio drama, for fans to enjoy worldwide."

I never really thought it would be of such significance to hundreds of people. It was simply a passion project between iarrod and I. Then we added a bunch of other members: Gwyn, askcj1, Yen, and several more that have left over the years... and the rest is history.

Yes, people come and go, life changes, they need to take a break, then a "break" turns into leaving. Sometimes personalities clash and drama ensues. And the group either recovers from these types of changes or struggles to come back to its full glory.

I will certainly miss the camaraderie among us, the random chats, the streams, etc. It was all a fun time in my life that I will look back on and cherish.

Thank you especially to all of the team members, translators and subbing team, for sticking around, enjoying the good times and not-so-good times. Thank you iarrod for helping me out when I was so damn impatient - ha!.

Thank you to those members who have left for your work and dedication to the server.

Thank you fans!!!

Those who have donated (when we had donations for the MDZS audio drama team), those who have thanked us for our work, and those who haven't. Those who have told everyone that the MDZS audio drama is the best adaption of the novel and the best/only place to watch is through Suibian Subs.

Again, thank you everyone. Suibian Subs and its fans will truly be missed.

#suibiansubs #suibian subs #suibian subs closing

637 notes · View notes

vcnillazelda · 1 year

Note

Hi! ^^ I don't know if you're still taking requests. I'm kind of new around here.

So If you can, I'd like to ask for headcanons or a scenario where Ghost / Soap / König has a crush on a recruit girl who is a very skilled sniper, but is constantly underestimated and even excluded by other military personnel for being short and mute?

ghost, soap and könig crushing on mute! recruit! reader

tags: pining, eventual relationship/getting together, confessions, protective! simon, könig’s is really long i’m sorry 😭

johnny and könig under cut

a/n: aaaaa this is adorable

✞———————❖———————✞

ghost

he’s nervous around you ngl

full on like palms sweaty and mild stammering it’s so cute

the fact you’re mute is kind of appealing to him, he likes your company because you don’t bother him like johnny does, you’ll listen if he speaks and offer some communication sometimes albeit his sign language is rusty

the moment he realised he’s in love with you is the first mission you went on. he’s seeking you out, knowing he can’t ask your location because you couldn’t respond. he gets a little anxious due to the lack of communication, it’s what keeps him sane, knowing his colleagues are okay.

he gets you a special radio so you can communicate better, putting an extra button on so you could beep it. one for yes, two for no, three for ‘i’m in danger’, yet simon’s the only one to know about that last one

is extremely impressed by your aim, the moment he saw a sliver of a man in a window you took him down.

back on base, he notices other rookies leaving you out of training, so you’d have no one to train with.

pulls you from that training session and offers private training with him (1. because he wants to help and feels bad you’re being ostracised, 2. because he wants to spend time with you and be close to you).

when he confessed to you and asked if you felt the same he thought it would be the end of everything, but you gave him a kind smile and nodded- simon has never been so happy

he’s nervous about dating, it’s been a long time and he’s not exactly a model lover or a ‘good man’, so you’ll have to be a little patient with him

soon after dating, he sticks around you all the time, hovering in your space whilst you’re practicing longer distance shots

no one dares to leave you out of anything when he’s by your side <3

johnny

he immediately befriends you, happily chatting away- he does enough talking for the both of you

doesnt realise you’re mute at first, he starts to think you don’t like him until you give him a note explaining your situation, he’s so relieved

people leaving you out? not when johnny’s here! he’ll argue with people before pulling you from that training group and into his own- he convinced price pretty easily due to your file being full of good comments from higher ups + your aim was incredible

is literally your best friend when you join 141 and then ghost team, he’s all smiley and talks for you

he doesn’t even need to communicate with you anymore to talk for you, he’s got a sixth sense for that type of thing it’s crazy

the moment he realised he loved you was when he was done arguing with someone about excluding you, then when he walked back to you, you had a sweet smile on your face, thanking him

because you’re short, he’ll 100% use your head as an armrest btw

he confesses in a pretty old-school way, a note, flowers and a sheepish grin on his face

when you hug him tight and nod he’s over the moon, scooping you into a bear hug and kissing your cheek

he’s much more straightforward and quick than simon, so if you feel your relationships moving too fast you’ve got to tell him lol

adores you and always praises your aim on missions

will always stick up for you, no matter what.

will want you to meet his family- and he comes from a large scottish family so be ready for that 😭

will get slightly jealous when you befriend his baby brother, agreeing to play games with him- this wasn’t meant to happen, you two just clicked and now johnny’s stuck between you two

gets all clingy afterwards, asking for your attention back- he’s so childish sometimes aidjdifjdfkdien

loves going out to places with you, so 100% your first date is in a nice restaurant tucked away in a nook in his hometown :)

könig

when he sees you being openly left out of things he genuinely feels for you, considering he was heavily bullied in school

he even gets left out of things now, and he’s one of the top snipers on the force

approaches you, hoping he doesn’t look to intimidating, and asks if you want to train with him

he’s dreading you saying no, but when you smile and accept he’s quite happy

he’s used to training alone, so there’s not much conversation as the two of you work on your aim

eventually, after a few training sessions, he strikes up a few conversations.

gets extremely anxious when you don’t respond, because he’s too busy looking down his scope to look at you, and drops it

you catch on that he’s put off and give him a small note explaining you’re mute

he’s so happy you don’t hate him because deep down he wants to be friends

soon after becoming friends, you don’t care that you’re being left out of things because you just blow them off and go hang out with your extremely tall austrian friend :)

the height difference between you two is very noticeable so some other operators start calling you two ‘big and small’ 😭

you’re the first person he tells his name to, he wants you to trust him and also wants you to know he trusts you

takes time out of his day to learn sign language so the two of you can talk easier, it’s really sweet to peer into his room and see him slowly practicing hand movements

the moment he realised he loved you was when the two of you were in his room, some soft music playing as you wrote something in your journal- you looked perfect in the lamplight and he wanted to kiss you

gets extremely anxious over the idea of liking you more than a friend, he doesn’t want to lose this friendship and has never actually dated anyone before considering he’s such a loner

he asks you out in a completely different way. leaves a note on your bed but isn’t there at all, doesn’t want to face rejection.

it’s easier on him because if you do reject him he can just pretend it never happened because he wasn’t there

when you sign the note saying ‘yes :)’ and leave it on his bed he’s so happy, immediately running to the practice range and hugging you

people ask what happened because it’s so out of character for him to hug someone, and he’ll just state that something good happened

is a very hands on, clingy lover. he’s never been in a relationship before and he didn’t realise at the time how starved he was for any type of affection that wasn’t maternal (he’s a mommas boy come on now)

speaking of which, if you agree to meet his mother he’s gonna kiss you immediately. is so delighted because off base his mother is the most important thing to him

she’s lovely too, never pressures you to talk despite not entirely understanding why you’re mute. gives you plenty of austrian food you’ve probably never had before and gives amazing hugs, she’s so happy her son found a girlfriend :)

5K notes · View notes

acciojaeyun · 5 days

Text

under the web | p.sh.

PAIRING. officemate!sunghoon x fem!reader

SUMMARY. there's something about the way people seemed to scurry about whenever park sunghoon from the IT department would be coming to whichever area of the office. that's something that would be all because of you, his lovely officemate. your constant teasing and mockery of that one thing you know about park sunghoon made it seem to reach the headlines, and park sunghoon was determined to let you know that you're not the boss here.

CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

SMUT WARNINGS. making out, humiliation, implied dom vs. dom dynamics, dirty talk, slight exhibition, curses, virginity, unprotected sex (please practice safe s), reader is a jealous menace (a bit stalker-ish), mentions of manga, mentions of other members, if i forgot some, lmk!

WORD COUNT. 4.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE. this will be my first ever sunghoon fic after a long while! i did take a hugeee slump after writing ( and had never been so inspired to write oneshots until now. and i'm such a sucker for glasses hoon and this is the product of it. thank you so much for reading! <3

MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

It was an annoying morning.

Or well, for you, it was annoying. For you had to witness a group of interns gushing over the "guy with rolled sleeves and glasses making his coffee," and you scoffed when they mentioned that he looked like an Americano drinker, which, in their words, made him more attractive.

You rolled your eyes, the guy that they were talking about never liked Americano. In fact, his black instant coffee had the same amount, if not more, of cream added to his stainless steel coffee tumbler.

How did you know about that, though?

One thing about you was that you knew Park Sunghoon very well. He was the Class Salutatorian of Batch 2023, bachelor's in Information Technology. It was pretty impressive, if you were to ask everyone else. Park Sunghoon was immediately hired by the company that you are working in, and while you can say that Sunghoon did deserve both the position and the benefits, you couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve the attention men and women alike were pouring him.

Of course, if anything, it should be you showering him attention. But, you wouldn't do that. Not when you're Y/N Y/L/N. You're the darling of the company, the sweetheart, so to speak. Because even though you cannot be of the same level as that of talent, knowledge, and skill which Sunghoon possess along with his looks, you were a pretty hardworking person.

Being in the Marketing Department also had its hardships, and while you still pray for the day commoners stop shunning down your bachelors, you are able to supply yourself with your needs and wants just by exerting everything you've learned in business and people-speaking.

But there was something about Park Sunghoon that makes him your own thesis.

Your own skill in building relationships didn't seem to work on him as much as you had hoped. Okay, let's admit it, you had taken a liking into Park Sunghoon. The quiet IT Specialist that exuded looks that were enough to make women fall to their knees.

A little bit of chit-chat here and there, some subtle glances and light touches, you were still far from the starting line. Park Sunghoon still hadn't reciprocated at least a fraction of your advancement towards him.

And by now, you're almost as helpless as it could be as you're munching on your own lunch, eyes over the cubicle of the IT department, watching how Sunghoon eats his sandwich, gaze never leaving his computer as he typed in codes with his other hand.

"How's the thing with Mr. Cold guy doing?" Sunoo would nudge your side as he caught you staring at Sunghoon for the nth time today.

You rolled your eyes for the nth time today as well, "He's so annoying."

"Now, he's annoying? Please, Y/N, cut yourself some slack. You need to get humbled, too, you know?" The blonde boy laughed as he sipped on his coffee.

"I just don't know how he hasn't caught up on it yet," you groaned, stabbing your fork on the penne pasta that you had on your lunchbox, "I've been doing a lot! How come he's still oblivious!"

"That, or he knows and just doesn't want to do anything."

You furrowed your eyebrows at Sunoo, "What do you mean?"

"Please, you're practically throwing yourself at him, it's a miracle how he hasn't caught up on yet."

"Or, he's a virgin."

Sunoo laughed, "Maybe,"

A loud thud on your desk was heard throughout the department as you placed your lunchbox down, "I'll talk to him."

"Again?" Sunoo looked at you, bewildered. "And, while he's working?"

"What, can't he handle a little distraction?"

"With you almost pushing your boobs towards his face? I think not."

"You know what? Fuck you." You flipped your best friend off, making him laugh as he ate his tteokbokki happily, ready to see you in your downfall yet again.

You, on the other hand, were determined. Straightening your slacks and blouse, grabbing your laptop, you made your way over to the IT Department, greeting everyone along the way while making a beeline straight to Sunghoon.

"Hi," you greeted.

Sunghoon hummed, his eyes still not leaving his screen.

"I mean to come to you to help me with a feature on the application that we're using?"

The boy glanced at you, his chewing coming to a slow halt.

"What about it?"

"Oh, I was hoping that I can access the Network's files? I've forgotten my flash drive at home and I only have access to some of the files but it would be in Sunoo's disk."

Sunghoon flashed you an impressed look at your terms, at the bare minimum.

"It'd be against company policy to allow you to access other people's disks without their consent, Ms," Sunghoon cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "and besides, aren't you friends with Mr Kim, anyway? Why wouldn't you ask him directly?"

"Uh, well..." you trailed off, "well, Sunoo also has the copy of this file on his flash drive, and coincidentally, he has also forgotten it at home!"

The boy raised an eyebrow at you. He was not buying it, you thought.

But your thoughts were proven wrong as Sunghoon swivelled in his chair, clicking on the multiple tabs open until he had manipulated the system for the time-being upon your request.

Your hands glanced on his hands, so dainty, long, and pretty. You wondered how it would feel around your neck, or in your pussy.

"It'll be open only for your access, Ms," Sunghoon said, looking up at you, "I'll be resetting it to company's default after forty-five minutes. Would that be enough time for you to get your files?"

You nodded, "Yes, thank you,"

"Do you have anything else for me to help with?" Sunghoon looked at you with a raised brow, making you blush.

"N-No, not that I know of, thank you, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.

He merely nodded before opening his coding software, clearly blocking you out from all his senses as he returned to eating his sandwich and work.

You pursed your lips, inhaling a large breath as you excused yourself from his cubicle, greeting yet another group of people acknowledging your presence as you made your way out of their department.

You were not expecting what you are seeing.

Not at all.

Whatever it was, there seems to be a glitch in the system as you also had an access to Sunghoon's drive.

You see, it was not your fault you were a bit nosy over your crush. You had taken a liking in him, and maybe, you think, there may be some stuff about him in his drive that could let you know a little more about him.

If not him, then, maybe, technology, his trusted friend, could help you.

You've seen his curriculum vitae, all the data he's working with, his clients, as well as a folder of his personal stuff which included torrented movies.

You laughed, his degree really has his perks.

You were so close to clicking off the movie folder named "O", but as you clicked on the next folder, named "P," you gasped at the number of porn videos were downloaded into the folder.

And all of them had the same theme: office sex.

It maybe too much, but in your mind, it made sense, when you were noticing how each of the female partners had the same features as you. Smirking to yourself, you glanced a look at the IT Specialist, bingo.

Surprised would be an understatement when Sunghoon entered the pantry as he went through his usual routine: leave his things at his desk, make his creamy coffee, work, leave to buy Subway for lunch, work, leave at 5:30 PM sharp.

He was surprised when the first people in the pantry left as he entered the room, furrowing his eyebrows when he heard faint words such as, "porn," "boundaries," and "couldn't he have had downloaded it in his own laptop?"

Now, Sunghoon may have been overthinking. His quiet life at work was already enough for him. But there was something bugging him for the first time in his life as he placed water in his stainless cup, especially when after making his coffee, no one would even dare look at him as he made his way to his cubicle, men and women, alike, swivelling their chairs to move farther from him, as if he were a plague.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, it was getting to his nerves.

And if it weren't for Jake, his only friend in the department, who initially swivelled his chair away form Sunghoon, but then decided to swivel back as Sunghoon didn't even stand up for lunch, who told him about the rumours that spread about him, he wouldn't have known, and there was only one person who would have accessed his files.

You.

He snickered at the story Jake was telling him, and left Jake to his imagination whether the story was true or not, only giving him a shrug when the older did try to confirm to him.

"Believe what you want," Sunghoon responded, typing aggressively on his keyboard, "besides, I think you have, since you initially scooted away from me."

"Look, man," Jake scooted closer, whispering, "if it's not true, I could tell it to them, you know? I don't want them to think of you as some horny teenager who doesn't know about work boundaries."

"As if they're going to believe you," Sunghoon curtly responded before pressing a key harshly before looking at his friend, "if it came from Y/N, no one would even bat an eye at you."

"Y/N? Why her?"

"Only she had access to my files yesterday. Wouldn't it be too much of a coincidence if the story only spread now?" He chuckled, amused.

"So, it's true?"

Sunghoon shrugged again.

"Are you going to do something to address it?"

"Address it? What for? They already think I'm some horny dude, anyway."

"Well," Jake licked his lips, "just send me the stashes next time, too, okay?"

Sunghoon laughed.

Your plan was working.

A lot of people had taken their distances from Park Sunghoon. Making you think you're progressing at your plan to keep people away from him.

You can't help it. As long as there were hindrances in your way towards Sunghoon, you think there would be little chances to make your advances to him. You had yet to tell Sunoo, but you know that he was already aware of the rumour, and he would ask you about it after his client events.

So, while everyone had left Sunghoon alone in the pantry, that was your cue to enter the pantry. Making your way as calmly as possible to the counter as possible, you placed your food on the microwave, heating your breakfast as Sunghoon was stirring his drink in his cup.

"I never took you as the guy," you sighed, faking sympathy, getting more annoyed as you never got any reaction from the boy.

"I was expecting more from you, Mr. Salutatorian, I'm sure you know about policy since you were so high and mighty about it when I tried to get into Sunoo's files," you continued, watching his every reaction.

But he remained stoic. And that irked you.

You were about to open your mouth when the microwave had beeped, making you jump and take your food, frustrated over the fact that Sunghoon was ignoring you. Forgetting that it was still hot and you didn't retrieve the mittens beside it, you burned your fingers, finally getting Sunghoon's attention.

He discarded his coffee and immediately went his way over to you, grabbing a hold of your hand before examining your fingers, his eyes never leaving it as he tried to suck on it in attempts of both soothing the wound and seducing you.

Your breath hitched, making you look at him. What the hell was he doing?

"S-Sunghoon?"

He smirked at you as he pushed your fingers to his mouth, wetting your pointer finger with his warm tongue, only for him to retract it and swirl it on the tip of it.

"There's one menace between the two of us," Sunghoon whispered as he pulled away, leaning in to you, "and it's not gonna be you."

You let out a breath you didn't know you held as he pulled away and made his way out of the pantry.

Weeks later, you found yourself mad at Park Sunghoon.

Because after the incident at the pantry, he seemed to be hovering in your space more times than you would like. And while it did seem the best thing for you, it wasn't. For Sunghoon was not only hovering, but he made sure his presence was made known whenever he was around.

Holding on your waist, rubbing his crotch against your bum, rolling his sleeves whenever he knew you looked at him – while keeping his unbothered expression at his face.

Other than that, you were thinking he was losing his game as another person had suddenly took a liking into you. Food in carton boxes at your table by the morning you come in to work, and while you had hoped that it were him, your hopes were shut down as fifteen minutes after you had arrived from work, only had then Sunghoon, too.

Flowers were also hard to miss every week. There was a different flower every week, the whole department gushing whenever you grab a stem on your desk. And while you had hoped it was Sunghoon, again, you looked at his desk and see him in his natural habitat: working and face straight to the computer.

By this time, you had grown infuriated. Because you felt like he was toying with you. Especially when he was not paying you any attention at the Thanksgiving Party your office had held after reaching more than the targeted quarterly sales, and it was because of you! Why wasn't he giving you any attention?

Blame it on the alcohol in your system, and your innate drive to prove something to Sunghoon, a trait of yours that you have acquired overtime, you made your way towards the guy who was alone at the bar, nursing his on the rocks with his finger dancing around the rim of the glass.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" you spat, annoyed.

Sunghoon turned on his seat, smirking at you, "For being the best employee?"

"What else!"

He chuckled, taking a sip on his drink, "Congratulations, princess,"

You scoffed, "That's it?"

He grinned, "What, you'd want me to kneel for you?"

You were stunned. "You know what? Whatever, Sunghoon, I feel like I'm just a game to you, anyway."

And maybe that's what did it for Sunghoon, because the moment you uttered those words, you found yourself being pulled by your wrist outside of the ballroom you were in by none other than Park Sunghoon himself.

"Let go of me, Sunghoon!" you said as you tried to escape from his grasp.

But Sunghoon did not budge, he was determined on making you regret what you say. He pushed the fourteenth floor button, the floor where he was staying, and even though it took quite a while to get to the floor, Sunghoon didn't even try to lay his hands on you, it was better for him to do it on his bed, anyway.

Because you deserved it.

The moment the elevator doors opened, you found yourself being pulled to his room, with heavy breaths as he discarded his suit jacket on the couch, he turned around and met you in a passionate kiss, surprising both you and Sunghoon.

Ah, if there was one thing you didn't know about Sunghoon? Was the fact that he was a virgin. He never had any relationships in the past, and it had only been you whom he was very attracted by. So, it was bound to happen, perhaps. Sunghoon giving you his virginity in the hopes of you reciprocating his feelings.

But Sunghoon was a realistic man, of course, he knew that he was just your own entertainment. Having a lot of suitors here and there, he knew he had to step up his game.

That meant, letting you see through his drive because he was scared of doing the first move of asking you out on a proper date, because everyone was always first in doing so.

A few occurrences later, Sunghoon had decided on levelling his courtship up by bringing you food to your table the moment he gets to work. His bag still on his hand as he ordered your favourite meal as he sped placing it on your table before making his coffee.

Sunghoon had started realising that you liked flowers, so he had brought it upon himself to at least give you flowers every week, keeping it anonymous before he finally musters enough confidence to tell you that it was him who was giving you the gifts.

Not Jake, not Jay, and most certainly not Heeseung.

So, he hopes he had translated all of his misunderstood feelings into the kiss, cupping your jaw as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, swallowing the moan that you had blessed him.

"You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N," he groans into the kiss, "accusing me of playing with you when you were the one who started this in the first place." He trails off, his lips pressing onto your mouth up and down before stopping by the skin near your collarbones for him to suck.

You let out a whimper, too lost in the feeling of his lips on your skin, "You drive me so fucking crazy, too," you start, letting your head fall back to have the boy kiss more of your skin, "I don't know what's on your mind most of the time." Sunghoon had found your sweet spot below your ear, making you gasp.

The boy hummed, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling your body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so you could feel his hard cock pressed against you, "Well, it's about time you know that you take over the expanse of my mind, princess."

You were already soaking wet at this point, basking in how Sunghoon looked today, you swear you could feel yourself salivating over how he presents himself. You pull his face away from your neck, locking your lips in an uncoordinated kiss. "I need you, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon groaned, kissing you for a moment longer before abiding to his girl's needs. His cock was aching, and you needed him. It was time to cut the chase.

"My needy little slut," Sunghoon growls as he teased you by rubbing your clit over your panties, and when he slid his hands through her folds, he was met by pleasing wetness, making him chuckle, "You've been trying to fool everyone with how much of a sweetheart you are, angel," he hummed, rubbing his nose on the crook of your neck, "but you really are a menace. Wanting her Sunghoon to give all of his attention to her,"

"Y-Yes," You moaned, grinding your hips on his fingers, "M-My Sunghoon,"

And when he motions to remove his glasses, you tap his wrist and shook your head, making him realise you never want his glasses off, making him chuckle.

"You liked hearing it, don't you?" Sunghoon inquires as he pushes you to the bed, pulling you over the edge of it as he bites on your panties, pulling it down to pool on your ankles, "You love the idea of me being yours, don't you, Y/N?" He smiles as he sinks his finger in you, curling as you clench around you.

"Yes, I do - shit, Sunghoon!" You managed to say, "I did everything because I only want you! Only you!"

Sunghoon docks his head in between your thighs to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks before pressing hot kisses into the expanse of your inner thighs, fluttering light kisses as his lips made its way to your folds, kissing it before he gives kitten licks to your bud.

Your back arches, satisfying Sunghoon with his little experimentation. He, then, soon, pushes another finger in as he started swirling his tongue on your clit, alternating between licking his tongue flat from your hole up to your clit, making you thrash your legs everywhere.

He moaned when you clamped your legs around his face, urging him to continue his movements, "M' close, Hoon," you whispered, one of your hands leaving the sheets to tangle in his newly-cut hair, and with one more curl of Sunghoon's fingers, you were already tumbling over the edge, your cries of his name falling from your mouth.

"God, you're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispers as he cleans you off with his tongue, and when he was done, he pushes himself up as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers, discarding the article at some part of the room.

"I wanna ride you," You confess, making Sunghoon blush again, "oh, are you... is this your first time?" You asked, your eyes widening slightly as Sunghoon replied with a nod.

Your heart almost burst at his confession, making you sit up and pull him into a slow kiss, "I want to see how you'd look so damn sexy sitting on my cock, Y/N," Sunghoon breathes, "but I want- I need-"

"Take your time with me, Hoon."

A breath escapes you when Sunghoon finally gets you out of your dress, his hands immediately pinching at your nipple. And without another word, Sunghoon lifts your leg and lines himself to your entrance. And with a heavy breath in, he pushes in slowly, the roll of his hips feeling delicious until he's fully buried inside you, low moans heard throughout the room.

"I, fuck, Y/N," Sunghoon starts, groaning instead as you clench around him. Sunghoon hovers over you, his arms on either side of your head before resting his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes, "God, I love you so much, Y/N."

Before Sunghoon ever regrets he had confessed out of nowhere, you had already pushed your lips on his hungrily, meeting his thrusts, you let out a whine as Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching deeper of you, the same time he rubs slow circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.

"God, you feel so fucking amazing, Y/N," he breathes, earning a chuckle from you as you say, "You're fucking me so good, Hoon,"

Sunghoon smiles at your continuous use of his nickname, before his eyebrows furrow as he lets out a breathless moan as he hit your g-spot, making you squeal, "Jesus, I'm not gonna last much longer!" you say, and you were quick to wrap your legs around his waist, aiming to feel him closer.

"Me either, darling," he whispers, "come with me, please?"

And with a few more thrusts, you feel yourself coming on him, your toes curling, back arching, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head, as your nails rake down Sunghoon's back from his nape. Your walls clench around his cock, making him also reach his climax. He cuts your moans as Sunghoon pulls you to him for a hungry kiss as he empties himself in you.

He slows his thrusts down as he helps you come down from your highs, his lips attached again to your jaw down to your neck, peppering light kisses. And sooner, Sunghoon pulls out and rolls onto his back, his arms around your waist to make you roll on top of him.

A silence was heard in the room as you mindlessly traced irregular shapes on the expanse of Sunghoon's pale skin. He feels like his heart is about to explode from mixed emotions, having the girl of his dreams on top of him, his virginity in your hands – but, at the end of the day, he's unsure about your feelings for him.

However, one thing's for sure: you were all Sunghoon had ever wanted and needed, no matter how much the world can prevent him from doing so.

"I mean every word I said," Sunghoon whispers, kissing your hair, a silent affirmation to the thousand words running in your head.

You giggled, "I feel like I'd look good bouncing on your cock, too, Sunghoon."

"N-Not that.." Sunghoon blushed, "I am really crazy for you, Y/N, but you know, we could just pretend it never happened and think this is a one time thing."

"That's so unfair of you," you say, looking up and leaning your chin on his chest, "because I'd rather have you bringing over lunch and flowers every time if that meant having you every day."

Sunghoon visibly relaxed, smiling at you warmly, "So, it's forever."

"It is."

874 notes · View notes

gimmeurtmi · 1 year

Text

no nut november — hyunjin (loser #3)

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: no nut november mini series, established relationship, domestic bliss, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, mentions of masturbation/watching porn, mentions of overstimulation, cockwarming, unprotected sex, no nut november as a bet, slight dirty talk, use of names like “pretty boy”, group chat shenanigans

inspo: that video of jinnie fixing his hair with his head thrown back and everyone staring in awe.. you know the one

notes: this is so self indulgent when it was meant to be my gift to @sluttywonwoo lmao. i hope you enjoy the softness of it all, boo! and i hope you feel the joy i felt when writing this <3

banner by @sluttywonwoo

{ wc: 4227 }

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!!” You heard Hyunjin screaming from the next room.

You were in the kitchen trying to make breakfast, following Hyunjin’s mother’s recipe for his favourite breakfast food. He came over to yours after your weekly game night—since most of the rooms at theirs were full anyway, and besides, it gifted you with a peaceful morning. Or so you thought.

Hyunjin came into your kitchen, dancing around in what you assumed was celebration, wearing nothing but his boxers and your old jumper from highschool.

He was dancing around so much, flailing his arms enough that the jumper had started riding up, his happy trail peaking out through the fabric.

You swallowed.

“What happened?” You asked, as casually as you could, focusing on the pan in front of you.

“Jeongin lost!”

To prove his point, he showed you the group chat he had with his friends, in which the youngest retold his story from the night before.

You’d have to congratulate them both for finally being brave enough, you noted.

“Cool,” you said simply.

You weren’t really surprised he was talking about that bet again. It was like it was the only thing he could think about since it started. When he told you about it—all you could was laugh and shake your head.

But then he told you what the stakes were, and only after that did you agree and promise him you’d do your best not to get in his way. If it meant you had a whole weekend of Hyunjin to yourself—then you’d play along with their stupid bet.

Although, it was already driving you crazy.

You knew Hyunjin wasn’t doing it on purpose, it’s not like he could help how gorgeous he was, but he didn’t make your life any easier when he so casually licked his lips after taking a bite from the food.

“Thank you, babe,” he said with a smile before devouring the rest of his plate.

You sighed.

The rest of the day was spent catching up on Hyunjin’s favourite K-Drama. You liked it, but what was better than the show was your boyfriend’s commentary. The gasps, pleading at the characters (as if they could hear him), and calling out the plot twists a few scenes before they were revealed.

“What?” He asked as he caught you smiling at him.

“Nothing,” you grinned, placing your head on his shoulder as you cuddled closer to him.

November 9th

A few days passed since you last got to spend time with your boyfriend. But today you knew you had all night together.

Your roommate went to her girlfriend’s house on Wednesdays and it so happened that that was the day Hyunjin finished work reasonably early.

She was never there to disturb you and your boyfriend had more time and so it always ended up with a sleepover.

From being the day you spent together it had evolved to your self care day—one that Hyunjin happily agreed to participate in with you.

There was only one problem. The stupid bet.

You spent all week waking up from wet dreams. Sometimes they were only about your boyfriend and sometimes they involved other people, too. That’s how you knew it was really bad. You were faithful, even in your dreams, but when other people showed up you knew you were unsatisfied and needy.

Luckily, agreeing to the bet never meant that you weren’t allowed to do anything by yourself—but needless to say, that didn’t quite cut it anymore.

Still, you decided if you were still this horny when he showed up it wouldn’t be fair—you could even class it as sabotage, and so, you took matters into your own hands. What else did you have to help you?

It was still early in the morning, you had the whole day to yourself, and so you opened your phone and logged onto an incognito tab.

Your fingers moved across the keyboard, searching and researching. You tried all your go-to’s, but you knew you were screwed when you were on the third page of the search results and none of the videos were even close to what you wanted.

You wanted Hyunjin.

You even went as far as looking for actors who resembled him—but that was impossible. No one was anywhere near as beautiful as him. You were sure it was cosmically impossible for there to be more than one Hyunjin.

That thought, of course, led you to imagine the impossible scenario of having two of him pleasing you at the same time. Kissing and touching and groping and—

You groaned as you locked your phone.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and so you unlocked your private file on your phone.

There was only a handful of photos on there and even a few short videos he sent you during the times you were away from each other for too long.

You looked through each one of them carefully, taking your time to appreciate his body, his dick, his face, his moans.

After a few moments of just admiring you got to work, shimming your shorts off your body.

You went on for as long as you could—managing to pull out six orgasms before you had to stop and gulp in some air. It felt empty.

You weren’t nearly as satisfied as you thought you’d be, not to mention, you could only think about the look on your boyfriend’s face if he managed to get you to cum that many times in a row.

You dragged yourself out of bed, washing the sweat and stickiness off you in the shower quickly. You might’ve taken extra time touching your tits—still feeling the need to please yourself however you could—but that was between you and the shampoo bottles.

Once you were ready, hair mask washed off, you made your way into the living room accompanied by your soft lo-fi playlist.

Everything was exactly how you wanted it to be on your day off—curled up on the couch under your fluffy throw blanket.

A few dozen tiktoks later, the door opened, your boyfriend letting himself in with the pair of keys you gave him a few weeks back. He had a clear bag in the other hand—and you could already spot your favourite sweets in there.

“Jinnie!” You exclaimed with a grin, opening your arms in an invitation. You didn’t want to get off the couch just yet and considering your boyfriend was just about to join you anyway he didn’t mind.

“Y/N/N!” He parroted, kicking off his shoes by the door. He quickly put down his keys and the bag, rushing over to you as he skipped from side to side.

“How is my dimples doing today?” You asked after he fell into your arms.

“Tired, but practice was good,” he nodded at you. “Did you move today?”

“A little,” you said, scrunching your nose.

“Your hair smells nice,” he sighed contently, burying his face in your neck.

“I put a mask on it,” you said, touching the now softer locks.

“You started without me?” He gasped.

“I thought it would be best to avoid the shower part together,” you pointed out, eyebrows raised.

Hyunjin hummed at you, nodding in confirmation that you had the right idea.

“I bought those strawberry masks you like, and they were on offer so I got you an extra two to keep. And there was this lip scrub I wanted to try,” Hyunjin said, pointing at the bag on the table with his leg. “My lips are so dry.”

“It’s the weather,” you hummed.

“Or maybe I don’t get enough kisses,” he pouted up at you.

“Kissing makes your lips drier,” you countered.

“False,” he shook his head.

“And the fucking stubble burn makes my chin and lips crack,” you said with a huff.

“I get stubble burn, too,” he raised his eyebrows.

“From what?” You gasped at him.

Hyunjin moved his eyes towards your crotch before looking up at you pointedly.

“Complaining, are we?”

“No! But I’m just saying,” he shrugged.

“And I’m just saying, you haven’t done that in ten days.”

“Why are you counting?” Hyunjin giggled.

“Because there’s nothing left to do,” you sighed dramatically.

“Oh, shut up,” he chuckled. At that he lifted himself off your body, easily making his way into the kitchen.

“Do you want peppermint tea or camomile?”

“Peppermint please,” you grinned at him, getting up.

“No, no, where are you going?” He stopped you with his hand up in the air.

“To get the hairbands?” You said, matter of fact.

There was a very clear routine in place, familiar, and you were simply following it.

“You, sit. I am man, man gets hairbands. Man makes tea.”

“Okay, man,” you rolled your eyes. But you snuggled deeper into your blanket nonetheless.

Soon Hyunjin offered you the warm cup of tea before he skipped over to your room to grab your matching pink hairbands. They had bear ears attached to them, and Hyunjin smiled softly to himself as he pushed the plush fabric up to his hairline. He plopped yours over your head (he knew it was yours since it had your foundation colour on it, stains that wouldn’t come off no matter how many times you washed it) and helped you push it up past your forehead.

After that he grabbed the edge of your blanket and frappes it over his legs.

Then he grabbed your phone, opened it easily since the passcode was your anniversary, and started queuing songs on your spotify.

It was all as it should be.

Once the tea was finished—Hyunjin telling you all about the drama unfolding between the new trainees in the studio across from theirs—you both put your mugs to the side.

“Am I allowed to get the masks?” You asked with a raise of your brows.

“Nope,” he grinned, jumping up and running towards the bag. As if you were gonna race him.

He plopped back down on the couch, bag in hand, and unloaded its contents. First, the strawberry face masks, and then the lip scrub, and then your sweets, and then some cherry flavoured lip balm, and then a new body lotion that “even has glitter in it!” and then a replacement of your moisturiser that Hyunjin may or may not have stolen from you.

“Anything else?” You joked as you looked down at the loot in your lap.

“Is there something missing? I can go out and—“

“Calm down, Jinnie,” you laughed, placing your hands on his forearms, “what’s up with you today?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I just wanna make sure you have a nice relaxing day.”

You nodded.

“Are you having a relaxing day?” You double checked.

He nodded.

“Okay,” you agreed. “You first.”

You handed him the mask, offering your face over to him.

He wiped your face with micellar water and a cotton pad before slowly and delicately placing the mask on your face. After tapping around it a few times to make sure it was stuck on properly, and bopping your nose for his own amusement, Hyunjin announced he was done. You opened your eyes and grabbed the second mask, applying it to his beautiful face.

You let the masks set for twenty minutes—enough time for you to tell Hyunjin all about your plans for your sister’s birthday—and once you peeled them off and washed your faces it was time for the lip scrub.

Hyunjin grabbed “the wand”, as he called it, and scooped up a generous amount of the scrub before grabbing your chin.

You focused on his face as he spread the small grains over your lips—his eyes zeroed in on them. Your heart started beating faster as you felt a wetness pooling in your underwear at the attention he was giving you. You took in a deep breath.

“You’re too far away,” he muttered to himself, scooting closer. He grabbed your thighs, pulling himself towards you, then lifted your shins to place them on either side of his body.

You could easily place your forehead on his, and so you did.

“Close enough?” You whispered.

“Could never be close enough,” he shook his head simply. You scooted closer still, your hands settled on his thighs, smiling at him.

He grabbed your chin again, angling your face so he could scrub the product onto your lips.

Hyunjin puckered his lips at you, eyebrows raised. So you leaned in closer and kissed his lips.

“No,” he giggled, “pucker them.”

“Oh,” you giggled back, following his instructions as your eyes settled on how adorable he looked while he concentrated on his task. And, as much as you tried not to focus on it, you took a moment to realise the intense stare he held on your lips was accompanied by a fluttering in your pussy you tried so hard to ignore.

As Hyunjin moved the product on your lips in circular motions, you instinctively moved your hands up his thigh, playing with the string on his sweats casually.

Hyunjin swallowed visibly.

“Um,” he started, voice cracking lightly, “did you want to be closer?”

“Jinnie, I really don’t think that’s possible,” you said slowly, trying not to move your lips too much as you spoke.

“I mean like, uh, maybe I can be inside you?” He offered, avoiding your eyes completely as he looked around himself for a cotton pad to take off the excess product with.

“Uh,” you let out, feeling your heart race at his suggestion. “Well, that would definitely make us closer.”

Hyunjin nodded as he wiped your lips. “But are you sure? I mean, the bet.”

“Not like that,” he shook his head, “just to be close.”

“No moving?” You tried to confirm.

“If you want.” He handed you the products casually, keeping the routine going—even if the conversation was suggesting something entirely out of the ordinary.

You looked down at the small empty space between your bodies. You could very clearly see the outline of his erection through his grey sweats.

You licked your lips, tasting the coconut on them, noticing how soft they were.

Hyunjin was studying your face, the way your eyes moved from his lap to his lips a few times before you nodded.

“I don’t want to lose though,” you said, even though you didn’t really mean it that much. Sure, the prize was a very good one, but at this point you were starting to care a whole lot less about it.

“I miss you,” your boyfriend said, rubbing your shoulder softly.

You chuckled as you waved at him. “Hi!”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes, squeezing at your bicep, “I miss being close, I mean.”

“I would love to, if you think it’s okay,” Hyunjin grinned, “but we aren’t done with our skin care.”

“Of course,” he nodded seriously, “we can keep going like that.”

You smiled before shifting around to slip your shorts and underwear off.

“Do we need to warm you up or—“

“—no,” you scoffed, pulling on the knot tied on Hyunjin’s sweats. He laughed.

“Are you wet enough?”

“I came six times today,” you said casually, pulling his dick out of his boxers, “I’ve been wet since the morning.”

“Six?” He gulped, a small twang of jealousy in his voice. You weren’t sure if that was to do with the fact you got to cum or that he wasn’t involved in it. It was probably a bit of both, you thought.

You climbed onto his lap, pulling the blanket around yourself to stay warm and slowly with Hyunjin’s hands on your hips helping you sink down onto him, you got into position.

The pair of you let out a few breathy gasps at the almost foreign sensation, realising you both truly missed the feeling of Hyunjin inside you.

After a few small breaths, and a kiss on your shoulder, you grabbed the lip scrub and kept going.

“You’re really fucking wet,” Hyunjin sighed as soon as you wiped the excess product off. He used up every muscle in his body to concentrate on keeping still as you touched his lips—only now putting his thoughts into words. “Did you actually cum six times?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“How?”

You could feel his dick twitching inside you as the words left his mouth.

“Are you sure you want to hear more details?” You cocked up an eyebrow. Hyunjin licked his lips.

“You can tell me if you want,” he said, lowly.

“No,” you chuckled, “I’m not trying to make this any harder for us.”

“Why are you complaining when you got to cum today?” He pouted.

“I’ve been cumming every day this month, actually,” you said simply. Hyunjin thrusted up at that.

“Hey!” You warned him, even if it was undermined by the small moan that you let out beforehand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was just… a hot thing to say.”

“Do I need to get off?” You asked seriously, giving him a pointed look before applying some lip balm on his beautifully plush kissable lips.

“No, no, no,” he insisted, “stay close.”

After he applied lip balm to your lips, the pair of you shared a small kiss, and then you started massaging the moisturiser into his face.

He intertwined his fingers behind you, resting them on your lower back as he closed his eyes, completely content.

“I missed this,” he mumbled out softly, “your warm cunt and your smell and your wetness all over my c—“

You leaned down to kiss him, sighing into his soft cherry flavoured lips.

“You need to stop talking,” you warned.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he ignored you, opening his eyes as he stared right at you, his lids heavy.

“What did I just say?”

Still, he ignored you, unlocking his hands and trailing them to your hips. He pushed upwards, his dick nudging your sensitive spot gently.

“Jinnie,” you whined, “don’t do this.”

“Will you clench for me, baby?” He begged you, eyes wide and pleading in front of you.

“That is just as bad as moving.”

“Please. Just once, wanna feel how your cunt wraps around me so ti—fuuck.”

Hyunjin let out a louder moan when you repeated the action, pulling your body forward so your noses were touching. The new angle helped you feel the stretch even more, and it took all your self control and then some to stay still. Hyunjin was clearly losing his focus, you knew you had to stay strong for the both of you.

He pressed his lips against yours hungrily before thrusting up twice, his cock dragged against your walls so deliciously that your head fell backwards, allowing Hyunjin to press open mouth kisses to your neck.

You weren’t sure who started it, you or him, but soon you were bouncing up and down his dick repeatedly, your hands flat on his chest.

“Wait,” Hyunjin said breathlessly, holding your waist so you’d stop moving. “The bet.”

“Yeah,” you breathed in deeply. “The bet.”

You nodded at each other as you settled back down on your knees, once again staying perfectly still.

“Where were we?” He coughed, grabbing the moisturiser from where you discarded it on the couch, distributing a generous amount on the back of his hand before he started applying it to your face.

Once you covered all other areas, going through your joint skin care routine step by step, all that was left was a head massage to relax the face muscles.

You kissed Hyunjin softly, your faces still slightly sticky as the products all settled into your skins, and smiled at him as you pushed the hairband off his head, carding your hands through his hair.

You carefully unknotted his hair with your hands, slowly pressing your fingers into his scalp. His mouth hung open, his tongue poking out under his teeth as he relaxed into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

His dick twitched inside you again, and you had to actively breath out to stop yourself from clenching. You weren’t sure you could play along with his bet any more if he made you stop again. So you just had to act like this was any other Wednesday and his dick wasn’t inside you.

But you didn’t want to complain too much, even just having him inside you without any movement was a huge improvement from the empty feeling you had until now and so you’d happily stay this close to him if that’s what Hyunjin wanted. You were greedy of course, of course you wanted all of him and you wanted it now—but if you could still win this bet while having his dick inside you, you would take it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Hyunjin moaned softly, eyebrows scrunched as he melted into your touch.

You rubbed circles into his hair, moving up and down, focusing on his neck and his temples and anywhere that might have tension.

You dragged your nails up and down his scalp, something he’d asked for several times before, and smiled to yourself as his eyebrows raised themselves in pleasure.

Just when you were about to announce you were done and demand your weekly foot massage, Hyunjin squeezed your hips tightly.

“What is it, Jinnie?” You asked softly, unsure of what the squeeze was meant to tell you—he still hasn’t opened his eyes. Did he sense you were about to pull your hands away? Was he trying to tell you he wanted you to keep going?

“What does my pretty boy need?” You hummed, dragging your nails across his scalp one more time.

At that, Hyunjin’s head fell onto the back of the couch, his hips lifting as a long and loud groan left his chest.

You felt his dick pulsing inside you as he came, hard, a wet feeling dripping down your entrance as some of his cum leaked outside of your pussy.

His chest rose up and down heavily, his eyes blinking open as you admired his blissed out face, the way his jawline sat so proudly in front of you with his head tilted back.

He was outrageously gorgeous.

His thumb rubbed circles into your hips where he was still squeezing you, slowly loosening his grip as he came back down to reality, and in turn, came to terms with what just happened. In his own Hyunjin kind of way.

He brought his face into your chest, sobbing theatrically into your body.

“I tried so hard! I was trying so so hard,” he practically wailed, “We lost!”

“Yes, yes,” you patted his head comfortingly, “it’ll be alright.”

“We lost!”

“What were you expecting was gonna happen with you inside me?” You chuckled.

“I thought I could be strong!” He threw his head back, dragging you closer to him. “How could you let me fail so spectacularly?”

“I literally warned you,” you rolled your eyes.

“You let me crash and burn,” he shook his head, “betrayed by my own girlfriend.”

“Will you stop,” you pushed at his chest, laughing loudly at his antics. “It’s not my fault you came from literally nothing.”

“Nothing? I had my favourite girl around me scratching my head and playing with my hair. That’s literally what I imagine heaven looks like.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes fondly. “How does it feel to be the third one out?”

Hyunjin groaned. “And after the two most obvious ones. Seungmin is gonna tease me to death about this.”

You laughed at him before slowly pushing yourself up, dripping down his sweats and over your fluffy blanket.

You grabbed your shorts off the floor before announcing you were going to get cleaned up quickly.

“Wait, can I make you cum please?” He asked, so softly. You would’ve melted right there and then if it wasn’t for the slight soreness starting to build up in your body. You were sat on his lap for a fair amount of time, feeling him stretching you out, not to mention your adventures from the morning.

“To be honest, I probably can’t go again today.” Hyunjin nodded. “But since we’re out anyway, you can do it anytime you want.”

You mirrored his grin, Hyunjin nodding at you before he let you go clean up the cum now running down your legs.

When you came back out the living room was already clean and organised, Hyunjin even put the blanket and his sweats into the laundry machine.

You wrapped your arms around him, grinning as you pecked his lips again and again and again.

“Do you still love me now that I’m a loser?” He pouted.

You laughed as you started, “you were a lo—“

“—yes, yes,” he rolled his eyes with a groan, “I don’t know why I even asked.”

“I love you still, Jinnie. Maybe even more now.”

“How come?” He asked as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“Because every day I fall more… yeah, no, I can’t say it,” you scrunched your nose up in fake disgust.

“It’s okay, I know you fall in love with me more every day,” he completed the cliche for you with a grin so big little dimples appeared by his eyes.

“Okay, you be the cheesy one, I’ll order some food.”

“No, that’s fine, I can do that—“

“—I am woman. Woman order food,” you mocked him.

Hyunjin laughed at you, his whole face laughing with him, before he pulled you into a hug and squeezed you.

As you ordered the food, Hyunjin sent a message to the group chat.

hyunjin: i’m out.

jisung: already? you suck.

hyunjin: you didn’t last 48 hours!!!

jisung: that’s not what your mum said

chan: please don’t

seungmin: han what does that even mean

minho: eliminated ❌

hyunjin: put my face up in the sky like the hunger games

jeongin: hyungs, sorry but all of us would die in five minutes if we were in the hunger games

chan: yep.

changbin: i wouldn’t

chan: yep!

seungmin: you’d get hungry and die

chan: actually yep to that

changbin: i’d get good sponsors because of my charming looks and they’d feed me forever

felix: yep!!!!

felix: and don’t worry hyunjin, next year you can try again!

several people are typing…

#nnn #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #all.works #skz x y/n #skz x yn #stray kids fics #skz smut #hwang hyunjin fic #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader

6K notes · View notes

merakiui · 2 months

Text

maybe, i'm afraid.

azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: slight angst, nsfw, azul bottles his feelings and is insecure note - happy birthday to my favorite tako in the whole world. <3 may you have wonderful days forever!! // loosely inspired by lovelytheband's "maybe, i'm afraid."

i. spring - dancing in your party dress, you were singing me some frank sinatra as you wept. pull me close enough. it seems like we lost touch, so hold me as the record skips.

“Can you believe we’re gonna be fourth years?!” Kalim exclaims with wide, sparkling eyes. They look like twin garnets set into his face—polished jewels having caught the aquatic illumination from Mostro Lounge’s aquarium. “Time really does fly, huh!”

“Feels like yesterday,” Ruggie agrees around a mouthful of food. His plate is stacked as high as it can possibly get, piled with contrasting flavors. “Pretty crazy to think we’re all gonna be heading off in different directions soon.”

Jade nods. “Our school lives are as fun as they are fleeting.”

An odd quiet falls over the three of them, which is soon broken when Floyd drapes himself over the booth. He leans down to swipe a sliver from Jade’s plate. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Just reminiscing.”

“Ah. S’bout that time, ain’t it? Gettin’ sentimental in the spring.”

“Makes sense. The semester’s ending and people are starting up their internships or going home. Really makes you think…”

Ruggie gazes at the group huddled near the bar. Riddle, Jamil, and a half-awake Silver chat alongside you and Azul. You seem to be in the middle of a riveting story, for your arms gesticulate wildly. Azul looks on with what Ruggie thinks is the most mushy-gushy, ooey-gooey smile he’s ever seen.

“We’re gonna come back in the winter, aren’t we?” Kalim asks, tilting his head.

“Indeed. For the cultural festival.”

“Yeah, that’s right! It’ll be fun to see you guys after so much time apart. Oh, we should all keep in touch! That way it’ll feel like no time has passed at all.”

“Perhaps not for us.” Jade follows Ruggie’s line of sight, landing on one person in particular. “For others, the gap is cavernous.”

“What do you mean, Jade?”

Floyd catches on then. “S’not our fault he’s not sayin’ anything.”

Ruggie shrugs. “It doesn’t concern me.” He pops up from his spot in the booth, grinning. “It’s been great and all, but I’ve gotta get my fill. Wouldn’t be right for a guy to skimp out when it’s Azul hosting.”

Giggling, Floyd waves him off. “You do that, Sharksucker.”

Kalim turns to the twins, brows raised. “You’re talking about Azul?”

“He’s been swept up in Shrimpy ever since. It’s been—how long now?—about two years or something.”

“Oh.” Kalim blinks back at him, slow on the uptake. And then, seconds later, it hits him. “Ohhh! He likes (Name)!”

“There ya go.”

“I’m afraid he’s yet to confess,” Jade adds around a bite of cake. “You should see the plans he’s drafted. Dozens of them, in fact. Each one is… Oh, perhaps I’ve said too much already.”

“I don’t get it. If he likes (Name) so much, why wouldn’t he just confess? Why make plans?”

“Wow, Sea Otter, you don’t play when it comes to feelings, do ya?”

“If it was me, I’d want everyone to know how much I care about someone.” To demonstrate this point, he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “You’re the best, (Name)!”

You glance past a now wide-awake Silver at the twins and Kalim. Mirroring his actions, you reply in a giggly voice, “Thanks! You’re great, too, Kalim!”

Beaming, he says, “See? It’s not so difficult. If Azul needs any help, I’d be happy to—”

Floyd throws his head back and cackles like a madman. “Not so difficult for you!”

Jade masks his amusement behind a gloved fist. “My, my. I think I’ve just witnessed the very soul drain from Azul’s eyes. You have quite the talent, Kalim.”

Kalim doesn’t hear the underlying meaning or the backhanded barb in his statement. “He’s got time, doesn’t he?”

“That’s what he keeps saying. But deep down he knows.” Floyd watches Azul hurry to recover his composure before anyone can notice. “He’s leaving for his internship after school’s over and then graduation’s next spring. He’s running out of time.”

“Does (Name) like him? Maybe she’ll confess before he does!”

“That’s just it. He doesn’t know what Shrimpy feels for him. Been driving himself crazy all school year tryin’ to figure that one out.”

“I suspect he’s grown excessively cautious as a result of his fear of rejection,” Jade explains, dragging his fork through the buttercream smeared on his plate.

“But if he confesses now and she doesn’t feel the same, he’ll have all summer to recover.” Kalim turns his stare on you next. “(Name)’s always been nice. I’m sure she wouldn’t shatter his heart.”

“When you’re Azul, even the tiniest push is enough.”

“Really? But he’s always so strong!”

Jade hums. “Three hearts are quite the boon-burden.”

“Only makes lovin’ someone that much worse. Cuz then you’re lovin’ ’em three times as much.”

“Isn’t that good? I think it’s sweet Azul cares about (Name) so much.”

“Sweet…” Jade shares a look with Floyd. Something unspoken passes between them. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

“Azul thinks it’s a pain in the ass. Throws him off his course and he loooves bein’ on his course.”

Kalim stares a moment longer. “Maybe he needs a push in the right direction.”

“Liquid courage works wonders—”

“—or gives way to woe.”

“Nothing like that.” He doesn’t elaborate further, instead getting up and padding over to the bar with a cheerful bounce in his steps. “Hey, everyone, let’s take a picture!”

Riddle welcomes him with a warm smile. “Ah, hello there, Kalim.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Jamil comments, arms folding across his chest. Which, arguably, is worse because it can only spell trouble should Kalim find himself inspired.

“Way ahead of you!” You hold your Ghost Camera up, turning the lens on Kalim. Lighting up like the very sun in the sky, he poses just as you snap a photo. It takes a few moments for it to develop, but once it does you hand it over to him for his perusal. “Looking good as always.”

“Aww, thanks! Okay, your turn next! Let’s get a big group photo and then individual photos.” With the camera now in his possession, Kalim’s free to fidget with it as he pleases. “Ooh, this is neat!”

“Careful with that!” Jamil bounds forward just in case. “The Headmage gave that to (Name). Don’t break it.”

“I won’t,” Kalim promises, holding it up to capture you and Jamil in its sight. “I think I’ve got it! Everyone, group up! Picture time!”

There’s lots of fumbling. An argument about height breaks out. Floyd pokes fun at Riddle for having to stand in front to account for his height. Riddle fumes, red with anger, and stomps his foot indignantly��all while insisting he’s still growing. You offer to stand beside him, but he hisses at you like a cat: “Don’t patronize me! I’m of perfect, healthy stature for someone my age!”

Kalim looks on from behind the camera. “Actually, can we get (Name) and Azul together first?”

Azul, who had been in the process of adding to the joke with a comment of his own, hesitates. He peers at Kalim, his walls rising. “Me?”

“Yeah! Only fair to put you front and center. You’re the host, after all!”

“Ah, right. Of course. But then—”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. “If anything, I should stay out of the picture. I’m not a third year like the rest of you.”

Kalim gasps, scandalized. “We can’t do that! It doesn’t matter what year you are. You’re still our friend, and parties are for everyone to enjoy.”

“Doesn’t that throw off the original plan?” Ruggie wonders, munching on a frosted donut.

“Kalim, we need to account for height. Riddle can’t stand in the back.” Jamil glances apologetically at Riddle. “That’s just the reality of it.”

Riddle huffs, refusing to dignify that with a response.

“I’ll stand in the front,” Silver offers.

“What? No, that’s not the issue here, Silver.”

“It’s not? I thought we were picking who stands beside (Name).”

“Ooh, I wanna stand with Shrimpy!” Floyd wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your head. “C’mon, Sea Otter, take our pic!”

Jamil sighs. “All of you…”

“Shall we take individual photos with (Name) first?” Jade suggests, smiling placidly at Kalim.

This time the message is received loud and clear. “Oh, great idea, Jade! Azul and (Name), could you stand next to each other?”

The group disperses to allow you and Azul to do just that. Rigidly, Azul steps closer. He keeps a healthy distance between your bodies, one Jade picks up on right away.

“Please smile and pretend like you love each other,” he instructs, to which Azul flusters.

“W-What? Jade, that’s—”

“C’mere, Ashengrotto! I don’t bite!”

With a joyous laugh, you wrap your arm around Azul’s waist and drag him in close. He stumbles, flushed in the face, just as the camera flashes. The corresponding photo slides out next, blank for a while. Eventually, the image begins to show up with striking clarity.

“How’s it look? Great, right?” As soon as it happened, it’s gone—your warmth. The comfort of being held. Azul almost pursues you when you release him from your grasp and move towards Kalim to inspect the photo. Thankfully, he catches himself. “Hey, this is nice! Good job.”

You and Kalim share a high-five.

“Me next, Sea Otter!” Floyd crowds in, baring his pointed teeth in an unruly grin.

With everyone’s attention on you, Kalim, and the camera, Azul’s left to stand behind in silence. Anticipating the rainless deluge, Jade lingers within earshot.

“I know,” he mutters in a brittle tone. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not a peep. Although if I may share just a tiny tidbit… Kalim offered some very helpful advice. You may want to hear it.”

Azul stares at him, stunned. “You told Kalim?”

“Not directly, no. It was implied.” Jade averts his mismatched eyes on purpose. “More or less.”

“I should’ve made you and Floyd sign NDAs…”

“Is it really so sensitive?”

“Yes! Yes, of course it is!” Azul deflates with a sigh, looking on mournfully. You’re trying to snatch the camera from Floyd’s hands. He holds it up and out of reach, laughing raucously. “What did he say?”

“If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart.”

Azul barks out a short, hollow laugh. “In an ideal world, that’s easy.”

“You’re making it more difficult than it needs to be.” Jade issues an encouraging smile. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“It’s just something to consider.”

A minute ticks between them. Jade watches the scene alongside Azul, delighting in distant chaos.

“I’m afraid, Jade,” he admits quietly, the confession as soft and fragile as a single breath. “She’s everything and I’m…nothing.”

Jade frowns in disagreement.

“I’ve looked at it from every conceivable angle. There isn’t any calculated risk to be made—no potential profit or success to be had.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to get it off your chest. We have a few weeks left before the break. If not your heart, perhaps you could establish a means to communicate?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt… For the sake of networking—”

Jade chuckles. “Networking? Is that it?”

Azul scowls. “You’re awfully irritating tonight.”

“I’m not the one with his tentacles tied, hopelessly infatuated.”

“You—”

“(Name), there’s something Azul would like to tell you,” Jade announces, and you turn to look at him.

Azul thinks he should just go ahead and die right there. Is it possible to spontaneously combust if he thinks about it long enough? Is such a phenomenon magic? All he needs to do is visualize it and then the spark will catch and—

“Yeah? What’s up, Azul?”

Azul flounders, his concentration broken. Like he’s done so many times in the past, he plasters his trademark smirk-grin on and falls into the shoes of the sleazy conman. “If you ever find yourself in need of study materials even after I’ve graduated, do not hesitate to contact me and I—”

You laugh. “I think I’ll be good. Thanks, though.”

With withering confidence, he chuckles. “I could give you quite the deal. You’d be missing out…”

You roll your eyes, unconvinced.

Jade—annoying, asshole Jade—brushes past, smooth as sea glass. “I shall take my leave, but please continue your chat. I believe there’s a camera waiting to capture the memory of me.”

Now it’s just you and Azul. He clears his throat, suddenly awkward.

“(Name), I—”

“Azul—”

“Oh.” He stares at you, a smile twitching on his lips. “You first.”

“No, no, you spoke before me.”

“Ah. Well…”

If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart. As if a love that’s been flowering for two years could possibly be resolved within the span of a few months.

He tries again even though it’s not what he really wants to say. “I do hope you’ll have a pleasant summer.”

“You as well.” You nudge him. “Kick ass at your internship.”

“I intend to.” Right. Internship. Work. Business. He can hold a normal conversation if that’s the topic. “And you? Do you plan to stay here?”

“Yeah. Crowley’s letting Grim and me live on campus since we don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll work part-time in Craneport. Summer is a great season for tourism, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

Azul laughs. “If it’s a family, they may spend more on kid’s menus for the novelty of it all. Be sure to talk it up to truly sell it. All children deserve to know the magic of a seasonal menu, do they not? Food in fun shapes. Fairy tales and sparkles. All of that razzmatazz. It’s the experience they’re paying for, after all.”

“Is that advice free?”

“Is it?”

“Fine, fine.” You dig through your pocket and hand him the photo from earlier. “Your payment, good sir. A memento of me.”

Azul takes it from you, admires your effortlessly pretty smile, and then freezes. “Oh, I look positively dreadful!”

“Not at all. It adds character.”

“A horrid sort of character.”

You sidle up beside him, peering at the picture. “I like it. It’s a photo of an imperfect Azul.”

“What an ambiguous compliment.”

“I’m serious! It’s Azul when he’s not acting. I like imperfect Azul. He’s authentic. A real person.” You pat him on the shoulder. He stiffens, betraying his initial nonchalance. “Or maybe not. One day I’ll catch you off guard.”

“We’ll see.”

“One day…” Your attention is stolen when you catch sight of the group attempting to bunch together for a selfie. Offering Azul that same smile he’s admired ever since he saw it, you add, “Have a fun summer. Don’t be a stranger next year, okay?” And then you’re bounding across the lounge. “Wait for me! I want in, too!”

For the rest of the semester, Azul keeps the photo tucked away in his phone case.

I have time to mull over the pros and cons, he tells himself when he departs through the mirror, summer break at his fingertips.

ii. summer - maybe i’m just too good. maybe i’ll run away. maybe i’m over you. maybe i shouldn’t stay. maybe i just don’t care. maybe i talk too much.

It occurs to you, while sorting through the photos you’ve taken throughout this past school year, that there’s an absurd amount of Azul. Whether on his own or with others, he appears in more photos than anyone else. You wonder how that happened—how you managed to be there for so many of his moments, each one documented in photographic permanence.

Some of them are humorous. Azul looking unimpressed when you lifted your camera to capture him. Grim jumping into his arms to demand snacks. His glasses sitting crooked on his face. Some of them are endearing. Azul reading in a comfortable nook in the library. Azul smiling fondly at the lens during an alchemy lesson. Azul laughing after you cracked a joke during PE. Some of them are animated. Azul waving at you from across the courtyard. Azul rolling his eyes at a dull pun. Azul playfully blowing a kiss to the camera after you told him to do something memorable. Some are special. Azul in his birthday robes. Azul during that time Mostro Lounge became a butler café for one week. Azul on his last day of the semester, leveling the camera with a roguish smirk.

This one—the most recent and last photo taken of him—is especially important. It’s the conversation that prompted an unforgettable expression that fills you with butterflies whenever you recall it.

“I think you’ll miss me,” you told him, elbowing him for good measure.

“I think I will,” he replied, his lips curling.

Unequipped to deliver a witty retort, you could only gawk.

“Don’t tell me that’s all it takes to shock you into silence.” He chuckled, and there was that infamous smirk-grin—sitting so perfectly on his face, as if it was meant to be there for this very exchange. “You’re too easy, (Name). Where’s the challenge?”

Wordlessly, you raised your Ghost Camera and snapped his picture.

There are so many facets to his person that you’ve managed to catch on your camera—complex layers you wouldn’t have otherwise witnessed if you hadn’t spent so much time around him.

Now you realize why you have an abundance of Azul photos.

We sure hung out a lot this year, and every time I had my camera…

Is he your muse? Is he just naturally photogenic? He fits into plenty of backgrounds, but it’s never the scenery that fascinates and bewitches. It’s always his expression, his body language, his emotions. And the reason all of these photos are so important is because this is an Azul who is comfortable enough to show these sides to you. An Azul who wants you to document his best and his worst, his beautiful and his ugly, his silly and his serious.

Sitting at your desk, thumbing through stacks of photos, you know he’s more than a muse. As you watch Azul move in various pictures, you wonder what he’s doing. It’s only a month into summer, but everything feels so slow. Campus has cleared out, and with it the lounge has closed for the season. You’re certain he still has his ways of making profit and spreading word of its wonders. Azul isn’t foolish. He’s always working an angle. Endlessly clever and stubbornly ambitious.

Does he miss me, too? you think, running your finger over his smiling face. Or was that just something he said to get a reaction?

Just then, a gut-wrenching thought lodges itself deep: Are we even friends? What if he thinks I’m a nuisance? Maybe he’s just tolerating me and all this time I’ve been delusional.

You glimpse the photos again, watching Azul laugh soundlessly in an animated loop. What am I to you, Azul?

As if on cue, having sensed your sadness, arms wrap around you from behind. For a second you think it’s Grim, but then you see distinctly human hands clasping together. You whirl, startled out of your skin, to find Azul Ashengrotto standing there.

“Wha… What?”

He’s…here. Azul is standing in your bedroom.

You blink once and he remains. You blink twice and he’s still there, gazing down at you with soft, smiling features.

“Hello to you as well.”

“Hey…?” You pat his cheek and flinch away. “Oh, you’re real!”

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?” Chuckling, he withdraws and moves to stand at your deskside. “I’m wounded. To think you would forget me just like that. And I thought I was plenty memorable.” He blows you a mock kiss then, and that’s when it finally strikes you.

This isn’t your Azul. This is an Azul from your photos.

How is this even possible? you think, scrambling to find which picture—which memory—he’s from. In doing so, you remember a particularly unique fact about the Ghost Camera. It’s a magical device that allows a photographer to capture slivers of their subject’s soul, which gives way to a special sort of connection known as a soulbond. The deeper the bond, the more likely the person in the photographs is to take on animation and, in some cases, slip out of the image that contains them.

So this is Azul from the time at which he was last photographed, you determine, holding up pictures to match his corporeal likeness to that of the scenery. The Ghost Camera is so cool…

“I missed you, you know.”

“Did you now?” He leans in close, curious. “How much?”

You push him away with a weak scoff. This isn’t good for your heart. Any closer and you might say something you’ll come to regret.

“Not as much as you think.”

“Is that so?” His gaze pans over to the pile of photos on your desk. “And these photos are simply here for convenience?”

“D-Don’t worry about it! Summer project. You wouldn’t get it.”

He flashes his teeth at you in a bright, competitive grin. “Try me.”

“You’re so nosy. Don’t you get tired of prying?”

“Not in the slightest.” He leans against the desk, his arms folding casually over his chest. “That’s besides the point. You’re avoiding the subject at hand.”

You turn in your chair and open your mouth to reply—why are you so invested in this?—but a better idea crops up. Meeting his cerulean stare with fierce, fiery eyes, you challenge him: “If it matters so much to you, I could be convinced to share my plans for the small price of one kiss. A real kiss. Not that fake one from before.”

Azul blinks back at you, a smirk crawling onto his face. “Is that all you desire?”

“What do you mean by—”

Your question is cut off when another set of arms embraces you from behind. Warm, soft lips press against your cheek; his breath tickles your ear.

“Are two not better than one?”

With a yelp, you jerk back so fast that you almost fall out of your chair. Standing there, looking very proud of himself, is another Azul. But this one, unlike Dorm Azul, is dressed in his school uniform. A very helpful distinction.

“D-Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

It’s the only coherent sentence you can manage. Your mind is a panicked muddle: I can’t believe it. Two Azuls. Am I dreaming? This is definitely a dream, right? There’s no way he’d kiss me on the…

You slap your hand over your cheek, gasping. “Y-You kissed me?!”

“Is that not the price you wanted me to pay?” School Azul asks, one brow raised as if daring you to deny that fact.

Dorm Azul’s fingers curl under your chin, guiding your gaze towards him. “Unless you’d like to raise the price…”

You swallow thickly. This can’t be happening.

“Of course, in raising the price, it’s expected you raise the value of the information you’re willing to divulge,” School Azul adds with a chuckle. “Is that not fair?”

You shrink under both of their insistent stares. “W-Why do you even wanna know?”

“Why not? Any information is good information so long as it’s useful.”

You scoff, but it comes out choked and shy. “I… I’m going to use these photos to put together a present for you. I know your birthday’s so far away, but I’m getting a head start.”

“And this present would entail…?”

You click your tongue at him. “I already paid my half for that kiss. No more.”

“Aah, is that right?” Dorm Azul leans in, kissing dangerously close to your lips. You reach up to touch the corner of your mouth after he’s pulled away. “How much for the full story?”

“How much are you willing to pay?”

School Azul rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you up from your seat. This proximity allows you to feel his hair as it brushes against your face. Dorm Azul closes the distance as if it’s second nature, and now you’re sandwiched between the both of them.

Your heart stumbles in your chest. He’s quite literally surrounding you, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“A very valid question.” Dorm Azul glances coyly at School Azul. “What do you think, Me?”

“Will we be enough for you, (Name)?” he purrs, rubbing slow circles into your hips.

You’re dizzy in their arms, your entire body warming with anticipation and embarrassment alike. Is it okay to be selfish? Even though this isn’t technically Azul—just mere memories of him—it seems so real. He’s holding you, touching you, reaching for you…

“Hmm. Two does seem to be a bit much.”

“Let’s call it a holiday and say it’s seasonal spoiling.”

“A gift for the summer.”

“Do open the window to let in the breeze. The heat is prone to making one feel rather…stuffy.”

They’re doing this on purpose. Maybe another Azul is more troublesome than I once thought. I can only handle so much charm!

Shrugging off self-doubt, you grab Dorm Azul by his lapels and yank him towards you, sealing the space that once separated your mouths in a hungry kiss. He melts against you, eyes fluttering shut. It’s quick and starved, the way you chase each other’s lips. You cling to him before you can fall, arms looped around his neck to keep him near.

Fully clothed and achingly desperate, you loathe the unbearable heat, but nothing is more molten than the space between your thighs.

Meanwhile, School Azul takes his sweet time running his hands along your sides, up the length of your body until he reaches your chest. With his form pinned to yours, you can feel his erection pressing against your ass. Rather shamelessly, he rolls his hips. You’re pushed up against Dorm Azul next, who takes hold of your hand and guides it to the strain in his slacks. He pulls away briefly to allow School Azul to slide your shirt up and over your head.

“Were you anticipating this?” he whispers, taking hold of your breasts.

“No way,” you protest between kisses. “Not… No. K-Keep dreaming. It’s too much trouble to wear one in the summer. Gets hot and—”

Dorm Azul captures your lips in another ravenous smooch, and the objection dies in your throat.

“There’s no need for these pesky articles where I’m from,” School Azul murmurs. He presses kisses into your bare shoulder, humming his very obvious delight. “You’d have already been laid out beneath me if that were the case… Soft and sweet, all mine to love at the bottom of the sea…”

“Humans have so many steps,” Dorm Azul laments, tutting.

“And merfolk don’t?” You try to sound smart with your question, but it comes out breathless when your nipple’s twisted between two fingers. “Oh…”

“Not when it comes to clothing. The very concept doesn’t exist beneath the waves.”

“You could visit sometime and see for yourself. I’ll welcome you with open arms.” Dorm Azul rests his forehead against yours. “And maybe then you’ll find yourself so taken with my home that you’ll want to stay.”

“A tempting offer.”

“But?” he prompts, his gaze falling to your hand as you palm him through his pants. He inhales a shaky breath.

“What’s stopping you?” the other Azul asks, his voice muffled in your skin.

“Firstly, I’m not a mer.”

“My dear, that’s nothing. Have you forgotten my proficiency in potionology?”

“And how much will one of your potions cost? I’d love to visit, but if it’s going to bankrupt me—”

“For you, a single kiss is all I require.”

“Isn’t that awfully cheap?”

Dorm Azul chuckles at this back-and-forth. “You say that as if you want me to charge an exorbitant amount.”

Glaring, you squeeze him out of revenge. His laughter comes out choked next, replaced with a needy whimper. Unbelievable.

“Maybe I do.”

“I would be careful with those words, dearest. I might take them to heart.”

He ruts against your hand, panting into your mouth. The kiss is sloppy and wet, all tongue and saliva. You move on instinct, grabbing at his shoulders when you’re taken to bed next. Both Azuls peer down at you from where they kneel on either side of you. They issue you hazy, lust-drunk smiles. Hands wander, feeling every inch you have to offer. You shut your eyes and submit to titillating touches.

“You really did miss me,” School Azul remarks when his fingers slip into your shorts to rub you through your sodden panties. Your breath hitches, a strangled whine squeezed from your throat, and he laughs. “I missed you, too.”

“I really like you,” you blurt, chest heaving with your every breath. He squeezes your clit to draw another sinful groan from you. “I think—Azul, you’re so—I think you’re so amazing… I wish we talked more. The year—aah… It went by so fast.”

“It did, didn’t it?”

“I wanna know you—the real you. I wanna know what Azul’s like when he’s comfortable and when he’s sad and when he’s happy. I wanna—ooh! Please… Please, Azul…” You grab fistfuls of the sheets, arching up towards the hands that caress your stomach lovingly. “I just want you.”

“And you’ll have me,” he—you’re not sure which—promises, leaning over to kiss you. It’s soulful passion, lust bleeding into love. Your cries are lost on his lips when you come undone beneath him, buoyant on a mellow wave.

You sense the loss before you see it.

Half-nude and gasping for breath, you stare up at the ceiling. Your bedroom is empty. All that remains of the Azuls are the animated memories imprinted on the photographs.

“I’m losing my mind…” you mutter, draping your arm over your eyes.

Please let summer pass quickly.

iii. winter - maybe all we are is fools with hearts that tried too hard. and maybe that’s just fine as long as you’re here in my arms.

Azul paces restlessly in his VIP room. It’s been months since he’s seen you, but his heart hasn’t swayed in the slightest. If anything, he’s only grown fonder in the time spent apart. Absence… What a bothersome thing.

“You’re gonna walk yourself into the floor, y’know. Your shoes’ll be all worn out by the time you’re done.”

“I’m aware,” Azul quips, uncharacteristically jittery. He turns towards Floyd. “Do I look presentable? Is anything crooked or misplaced? How about my hair?”

“You’re fine.” At Azul’s disbelieving glower, Floyd pouts. “I mean it. Shrimpy’s gonna like it either way.”

He bristles, defensive. “Who said anything about (Name)?”

“No one, but you’re thinkin’ it.”

“I… T-That’s besides the point! It doesn’t matter. She’s only here because I invited her. Common courtesy and all that.”

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

Azul frowns at the vault set into the wall behind his desk. If only he could pack all of his fears in there and lock them away for good. Then he could continue masquerading as someone fearless and confident. With winter having descended upon campus, bringing with it layers of fluffy, glittering snow, and the cultural festival having concluded successfully, Azul finds himself lost.

This is the last birthday he’ll celebrate at Night Raven College and, subsequently, the last February he’ll spend with you. He’s running out of time.

“Invitation or not, Shrimpy’ll always wish you a happy birthday. S’not like her to forget. Plus, she cares about ya.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

Azul’s tone is so sharp that Floyd raises his hands in defense. “Guess not.”

“What would you do?” He inhales a wobbly breath. “If you were in my shoes…”

Floyd scratches the back of his neck, contemplative. “Dunno. Guess I’d wait for the right moment and say somethin’ to get it outta my system.”

Azul sighs. “Jade said something similar.”

“He ain’t wrong.”

“I’m not prepared.”

“No one is.” Floyd smiles at Azul’s baffled expression. “C’mon, Azul, you can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to. S’just how it is.”

“Even so, it’s better to know all viable routes and options before diving into uncharted waters.”

“That’s just it. You can’t know. S’kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“I can’t do it,” he decides, the words heavy on his tongue. “I’d rather accept my future failure now than continue working towards it.”

“Like a coward.”

“Far from it! In business, that’s known as rescission. It is a completely valid method of—”

“You ever realize your feelings and business are two separate things? Not everything’s gotta be about business.”

Azul stands there, nonplussed.

Floyd makes for the door, stopping only to add, “Your fly’s unzipped, by the way.”

“You—” He scrambles to check. Much to his relief, it’s not. “Honestly… That’s not even funny.”

He smooths nonexistent wrinkles, schools his expression into something brave, and exhales slowly. I’m not going to ruin an occasion as grand as this with a half-baked confession.

Having made up his mind, he steps through the door out into the bustling lounge. Like clockwork, all eyes turn to him. He searches the crowd for you, hopeful. But before he can locate you, party poppers resound with a loud bang. Confetti trickles down like colorful rainfall, landing on his suit and getting stuck in his hair.

“Happy birthday, Azul!”

He wants to run and hide. He wants to dive into the sea and seek solace in his favorite octopus pot. He wants to bury himself in the sand and disappear.

Instead, he smiles and spreads his arms like he’s just pulled off an astounding magic trick. “Why, thank you, everyone! I’m pleased you could make it. Do enjoy yourselves to the fullest tonight.”

Cheers erupt amongst the partygoers, but they might as well be on a completely different island. Azul turns, hoping to make his rounds and escape, but Kalim intercepts him. Jamil isn’t far behind.

“Azul, happy birthday!” Kalim smiles just as Jamil catches up.

He passes two expertly wrapped gifts into Azul’s empty hands. “On behalf of Kalim and myself, thank you for the invitation.”

“Yeah, super thanks! It’s been so much fun. I hope you’ll like your gift, but if you don’t just let me know and I’ll get you something else. Whatever you want! You deserve it on your special day.”

Azul looks past him, not in the mood to entertain. “Yes, of course. It’s not a problem.”

Jamil raises a brow, but then it clicks. “(Name) wanted me to pass on her regards.”

As expected, that draws his attention. “Why’s that?”

“She wasn’t sure if she’d get to see you on your big, busy day.” Jamil eyes Azul knowingly.

Kalim nods. “We ran into her on the way here, but she said to go on without her.”

Azul doesn’t like the way they’re both looking at him—as if they’re in on some joke he’s not currently aware of.

“Well,” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “her regards are well-received.”

“You’re not going to meet her?”

“It’s my big, busy day, isn’t it? I’m afraid she’ll have to catch me at her earliest convenience.” Azul, gifts in hand, smiles. “Please do enjoy the party, you two. Thank you again for your thoughtful gifts and birthday wishes.”

On his way to the table designed for gifts, Azul spots Riddle, Silver, and Ruggie. They stand off to the side, chatting amongst themselves. He supposes, if anything, he might as well say hello. Setting the gifts down, Azul struts over.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I do hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“You know it. Parties at Octavinelle are always somethin’ else,” Ruggie says. Unsurprisingly, he’s done well to fix himself a plate and more. With him around Azul doesn’t have to fret over food waste.

“Your presentation at the cultural festival was very informative, if I may say so,” Riddle commends, sipping his fizzy beverage.

“As was yours.” Azul’s smile tightens. For some reason, he’s always felt the need to walk on eggshells around Riddle. And for good reason, too! Whatever Azul seems to accomplish, no matter how lofty a feat, Riddle seems to do better. “I’m sure you’ve had quite the rewarding experience yourself.”

“Indeed.”

“It’s good timing,” Silver notes, and all eyes drift towards him. Azul perks up. Timing. He needs more of that. “Your birthday came right after the festival. It’s almost like celebrating your hard work and another healthy year all in one.”

“Never thought about it that way. Guess it makes sense when you put it like that.” Ruggie grins cheekily. “Lucky you, Azul.”

“I wouldn’t call it luck. The dates just happened to align… Either way, thank you, Silver. I’m pleased you can look at it with such inspiring positivity.”

“You catch up with (Name) yet?”

“No? Am I meant to?”

“Just asking.” Ruggie shrugs. “She had me run a few errands for her yesterday. Said it was all for your sake, but when I tried to get more info outta her she told me I’d have to wait for ‘the big reveal’—whatever that is.”

Now everyone’s looking at him. Azul feels small.

“With how often I’ve heard her name tonight, I’d think she’s the one with the birthday.”

“Is she really so popular today? Odd. I haven’t had the chance to greet her,” Riddle muses.

“I thought I saw her this afternoon.” Silver furrows his brow, uncertain. “She seems busy.”

“Which is precisely why I can’t fathom the insistence that I ought to have met with her already.”

Ruggie tilts his head. “That the only reason?”

Just how many people are in on this asinine joke? More importantly, which eel is he going to have to wring out for spilling a not-so-secret secret?

Azul realizes his mask is slipping and so he repairs it expertly. If Ruggie takes notice of this, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s bad manners to show up late to a party. I’m sure one of us will agree.”

Riddle nods, but his words are surprisingly lenient. “Life happens. I suppose we can’t fault (Name) entirely.”

“She’ll make it. I’m sure she will. Don’t worry, Azul,” Silver reassures.

He’s not. He won’t. He isn’t.

“If the world was ending tomorrow,” Ruggie says, sliding into a new subject with practiced finesse, “what would you all do?”

“The end of the world…” Riddle frowns. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s a hypothetical. Anything’s possible.”

Silver hums thoughtfully. “I’d spend what time I have left with my loved ones.”

“You sure you’re not just gonna go running back to Briar Valley to protect Malleus?”

“As a guard it’s my duty, but fighting against the inevitable would be pointless.” Silver looks to the rest of them for their input. “If the world is ending and there’s nothing a guard like myself can do to prevent it, then I can only offer what’s left of my time.”

“So companionship. Okay, good to know. What about you, Riddle?”

He huffs. “I refuse to let the world end before I’ve accomplished my goals.”

“Yikes. You academic types don’t rest, do you?”

“No, no, it’s true,” Azul pipes up. “I agree. Why am I going to let the world get in the way of my plans?”

“So both of you are going to resist it until the very end?”

“You said anything can happen in a hypothetical, yes?” Riddle smirks. “In my hypothetical the world says it’ll end tomorrow, but it never does. It keeps saying so like it’s a faulty forecast. The end of the world is scheduled for next week, the week after, three weeks from now. By then, a year’s passed and the world still hasn’t ended.”

Ruggie groans. “That defeats the whole purpose of my question. You can’t give yourself more time when it’s already so limited.”

“Anything is possible if you know what you’re working with,” Azul adds, nodding alongside Riddle. “I quite like this hypothetical.”

“Leave it to the honors students to logic it out and make it more complicated than it needs to be…”

“You wouldn’t spend it with your loved ones?” Silver asks, but it appears as if the question is directed entirely at Azul. “I think I’d want to tell them the things I never got to say. Things I put off saying… Would you do that, too, Azul?”

“I…” He shuts his mouth and then opens it. “I’m not sure what I could possibly say within such a limited timeframe.”

“It doesn’t have to be complex.”

“I guess a good, old ‘love you lots’ is better than nothing,” Ruggie says.

Azul stops short. The end of the world. Time. Loss. Loved ones.

Time! He’s running out of time!

“Well, this was quite the lively discussion, but I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself now. There are a few more people I must meet.” Azul smiles gratefully at the three of them. They wish him another happy birthday before he finally departs, his heart in his throat.

He’s running out of time.

Logically, Azul knows the feeling doesn’t reflect his reality. It’s not as if he has to confess by the end of the school year. Logically, he has his entire life to confess. But who’s to say you’ll stay in his life after he graduates? You might be gone by the time he finally finds the right words, the right time, the right circumstance.

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Floyd’s right. There’s no way of knowing for sure until he does it. There’s no way to know what lies in those uncharted waters until he dives in. There’s no way to know where your heart lies until he confesses.

The world isn’t going to end tomorrow, but if he doesn’t say what he needs to before graduation he’ll never have another chance. And then that world—the world contained within NRC’s boundaries—will implode and that will be that.

At that very moment, a camera flashes. He spins around to search the photographer out and—

There you are, striding through throngs of people to reach him. There you are, dressed for the occasion. There you are, wearing that pretty smile he sees in his dreams.

“Happy birthday!” You turn the photo towards him for his viewing pleasure. It’s of him, staring off into space. He looks so stone-faced with his knitted brows and pursed lips. “Sorry about showing up late. I had to add the finishing touches to your present.”

You hand it to him. The amateur wrapping job makes the gift appear more lumpy than it actually is. It’s heavy like a textbook. Shaped as such, too. Azul wonders what its contents could be. Perhaps something relating to economics? A novel in a particular genre?

“Thank you very much. I’ll take good care of both.” He tucks the picture into his breastpocket, battling the urge to tear into your gift now. He needs to know. What did you get him? What could it possibly be? “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Even if the world was ending?”

“Uh… What?”

“Ah, never mind that. It was simply a lingering thought from a previous conversation.”

“That’s so grim! And on your birthday, no less.”

Azul waves his hand through the air. A playful smile draws his lips apart. “Can you believe Riddle said he’d make the apocalypse wait on his behalf?”

“Seriously?” You snort, eyes brightening with amusement. “Even the apocalypse gets a schedule…”

He barks out a laugh. “Insanity, isn’t it?”

“Maybe for us, but definitely not for Riddle.” You glance at him. “What about you? What does Azul Ashengrotto’s last day look like?”

He intends to answer with something prepackaged: Awash in success until the very end!

“Alone.”

“Really? No friends or family by your side?”

“Would that make it better? Perhaps being surrounded by others only intensifies the dread.”

There’s some sort of symbolism in coming into the world alone and going out the same. Azul just can’t quite phrase it eloquently.

“Maybe there’s no right answer. Maybe there’s not any comfort in it either.” You run your fingers over the edges of your Ghost Camera. “We can’t know what lies ahead until we’re there. Maybe that’s why we spend so much time theorizing.”

“Quite the insightful judgment.”

“For the record, I wouldn’t mind being your plus-one for the end of the world.”

“I’m flattered.” He grins. “I shall be yours in return.”

“No strings attached?”

“All the strings attached. So many,” he exaggerates.

“No fair!”

Silence fills in the cracks. You stand side by side, drinking in Mostro Lounge’s upbeat atmosphere. After some time, you nudge him.

“Look at us, speaking about all of these sad things. It’s your birthday, not a funeral!”

He wonders if now’s a good time. Should he lighten the mood and confess? But wouldn’t that just make it even more serious and somber? Is there ever going to be an opportune moment?

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Surprises. Spontaneity. Luck. All things left to chance. All things Azul attempts to anticipate. He thinks back on the many plans and what-ifs he calculated and wonders if it was worth it.

“(Name), I just wanted to say—” He stops himself, his fingers curling around the gift cradled in his arms. I love you and I want you in my life. I don’t want the world to end here with you and me. I want to know what lies beyond and experience it with you—the good and the bad. Everything. “I just wanted to thank you.”

For being my friend. For being yourself. For existing in the same world as me, even if it feels like we’re doomed to be islands apart.

“What’s this? Genuine thanks? Am I going to find an anemone on my head next?”

“That can be arranged. Isn’t it tradition to grant the person of the hour one birthday favor?”

“Hah! You wish!”

I do. I really do.

The party wears on into the night. Azul repeats the same mantra as before: I have time.

When he’s in his room, gifts piled high on his desk, he sits back in his seat and carefully unwraps yours. It’s a book, leather-bound and regal. It looks expensive. While attempting to approximate its value, he reads the title spelled out with alphabet stickers: My Azul. His brow furrows. Just what are you playing at here?

Cautiously, he opens the book to the first page. Your writing winks back at him: Happy birthday, Azul! This is my gift to you. It’s a chronological journal of your school life! :D People often say it’s difficult to picture themselves through the eyes of others, so I wanted to show you what I see every time I look at you. I hope you’ll never forget just how important you are. If you ever do, open this book to remind yourself.

With love always,

(Name).

“Curious,” he mumbles, flipping the page. The layout reminds him of a scrapbook. You’ve decorated it with stickers and patterned tape, scrawled words in different colored inks. There are two photographs—each from Azul’s second year. He’d forgotten about these. That time it snowed so much the students had a snowball fight in the courtyard. That time an alchemy accident (courtesy of Grim) led to Azul speaking in cat for the rest of the day.

In the center, a small blurb reads: My Azul is terrifyingly good at making snowballs within record time, just as he’s terrifyingly good at marketing them at all the right moments. My team was totally losing. Leave it to Azul to swoop in when he knows it’s advantageous… He’s intelligent and passionate. Even when mistakes occur, he works through them effortlessly. (Although it was nice having Catzul for a day!)

He rolls his eyes at that last bit.

The next page displays photos in much the same fashion. You’ve clearly put lots of effort and thought into each arrangement. Azul feels like he’s walking through a museum with every page. Like the first, the rest of the pages that follow include photographs of himself (some with others and some with you) and a short paragraph describing your observations.

His eyes are on the verge of a typhoon as he soaks in every sugared sentence.

My Azul is strong. My Azul is silly. My Azul has the best laugh. My Azul is great at bargaining. My Azul is awkward. My Azul is clumsy (in the best ways). My Azul is resourceful. My Azul makes the best study guides (thank you!!!!). My Azul is a hero. My Azul never gives up. My Azul is a talented mage. My Azul is…

All of these things he’s never heard anyone acknowledge before—have you always seen him in this way? Is this truly what he’s like through your eyes? He finds that hard to believe, and yet there he is on the page, winking at the camera or posing in an outfit from one of the many school trips he’s attended. You’ve added little comments and doodles in the margins and corners. Azul smiles as he reads them.

Noble Bell College sure was something! I’d like to visit again one day…

Vargas Camp was exhausting! I still can’t believe we survived.

Halloween! I want to experience it in the Coral Sea one day. But maybe just for one night. An endless Halloween is too much…

The ceremonial robes are very pretty. They’re so different from the uniforms in my world.

Happy Beans Day! Azul prepares all year for this. That level of commitment is impressive!

Azul reaches the end with watery eyes. He sniffles, so enveloped in a love he’s never felt from any friend before. You care. You truly, honestly care. It’s clear in each and every page—in the words you’ve written. You care about him.

The final page has a blank space the rough shape and size of a photograph. For some reason he understands what he’s meant to do. He slides the photograph you gave him all that time ago from his phone case and pastes it to the space. And then he reads what’s written below.

My Azul keeps all of these walls up in order to protect himself. He’s sensitive and self-conscious. He likes to uphold a perfect image at all times. He likes to keep his weaknesses hidden, his cards close. But then he’s also funny. He’s sincere and gentle. He’s sweet. He’s someone I admire from all sides, good and bad. Even when he’s scheming, even when he’s acting, he’s still Azul. My camera’s captured so many of his moments, which is very apparent now that you’ve made it to the end. But I’m happy to have documented these moments because they showcase everything that makes my Azul himself.

My Azul has never looked “positively dreadful” to my camera. Even on the days where he feels like nothing, my Azul is everything to me. I will always think so.

He’s crying. He can’t help it.

Azul sits there and he sobs.

He sobs until his throat is dry, until his eyes are blotchy and red. He sobs until he can’t anymore.

Holding the book close to his chest, he wonders how he ever managed to befriend someone like you.

An angel. That’s what you are.

An angelfish.

And he’s Azul. Your Azul.

iv. spring - but, baby, i’ll be there. yeah, baby, i’ll be there. it’s been a little hard. i’ve been a little tough. but maybe all along i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid. i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid.

The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers, thick with pollen. Azul’s chest is light, swelling with excitement. A new chapter is about to begin. In just a few hours he’ll graduate along with the rest of his peers and then it’s off to start another story. For Azul, this is just a continuation of something already so prolific.

He strolls past The Great Seven, pausing briefly to admire the Sea Witch in all of her tentacular glory.

“With this weather, it’s almost difficult to imagine they called for rain.” Jade peers up at the sun, shielding its obtrusive rays with one hand.

“They’re always gettin’ it wrong,” Floyd says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So annoying. I was hopin’ it’d rain and then they’d cancel.”

“Unlikely. There are always contingency plans put in place when it comes to an event as momentous as graduation.”

“Bleh. Lame. I wanna skip. I hate bein’ in those stuffy clothes, packed in close like a sardine.”

“If you’re absent, you won’t receive your diploma.”

“What a scam.”

Jade simply smiles. Ironic.

Azul turns around to look at them. “Four years… Gone in a blink. Will either of you miss it?”

“It was certainly enjoyable. I admit there are some aspects I’ll miss quite fiercely.”

“Guess it’ll be a bummer not seein’ everyone all the time. I’m gonna miss playing with Baby Seal and Shrimpy.”

“I’ll miss them, too.” Azul sighs. “(Name) especially…”

“You still haven’t told her?” Floyd raises a brow. “You’re gonna leave without sayin’ a word?”

“That does seem to be the plan,” Jade answers.

“I… I’ve thought it over.” He clears his throat. No time for waterworks. He needs to be in top shape if he’s to deliver the opening speech as Salutatorian. Riddle took first place, which wasn’t a shock to anyone. He always did say he’d make Valedictorian no matter what. Azul had been keen to fight him for it, even if it became clear he’d never surpass him. Second place is irksome, but it has its merits. Although he isn’t going to settle with just that! He’ll get first place one of these days. “We’re better off friends.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Is that enough?”

“Is what enough?”

“Her friendship.”

“It’ll have to be.” Azul’s gaze glazes over.

He’s run out of time, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe that was meant to be.

“Well, let’s not dwell on it any further!” He claps his hands and turns swiftly on his heel. “There’s still work to be done.”

Jade and Floyd exchange furtive glances. They know as well as he does that he’s lying.

But maybe that was also meant to be.

— — —

Crowley tasked you with snapping photos for NRC’s yearbook. “Because I am a paragon of magnanimity,” he said, “I am entrusting this very important task to you once more. Take lots of pictures! Don’t miss a single moment!”

You do just that, photographing the graduates as they wait in a room behind the stage, chattering eagerly amongst themselves. You raise your camera to document Azul when he stands at the podium to give his salutation speech. You do the same for Riddle when it’s his turn. The ceremony is grand, ballooning with emotion. You look on with a cheek-splitting smile, proud of every student who crosses the stage. It’s bittersweet. The friends you made when you were enrolled as a first year are now moving on in life.

Time flies. What a whirlwind year it’s been.

When it’s Azul’s turn and he goes down the line to shake the hands of his professors and Crowley, you wave at him from your place in the audience. He meets your eyes from where he stands, and he smiles.

Your camera catches that moment in perfect permanence.

By the end of it all, your face hurts from smiling, your throat sore from cheering, your hands raw from clapping. Grim grumbles at you to knock it off with the sun shower, your tears dampening his fur. You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “I’m happy for them. It’s a good day.”

He forces his head under your palm, allowing you to pet him and cry through it in peace. He doesn’t say anything. You don’t need him to.

While the graduates meet up with their family and friends, you make your rounds. Kalim introduces you to his parents and siblings—all thirty-something of them. You’re in a daze by the time introductions are finished, and Jamil leans over to whisper, “No need to commit everyone to memory.”

“Have you talked to Azul yet?” Kalim asks after everything has settled down.

You shake your head. “Why? What’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask. I know the Headmage wants you to take lots of pictures.”

“We shouldn’t keep you any longer than we already have,” Jamil adds with a curt nod.

You smile. “Congrats, both of you. Good luck.”

“We gotta keep in touch. Promise me you’ll call whenever you can. You’re always welcome to visit, too! Oh, I’ll go check with my parents now! I’m sure they’ll say yes!” Kalim bounds off in their direction.

“Just let me know well in advance. That way I can plan for proper accommodations,” Jamil says, following Kalim with sharp eyes.

“I’ll do that.” You turn to leave and then stop. “I hope you get your vacation one day, Jamil.”

He stares at you, mystified, before a gentle smile softens on his face. “One day,” he echoes. “I hope you’ll find your way home.”

“One day.”

The two of you share a final look before going your separate ways.

Surrounded in such an energetic environment, talking to and meeting families, you find yourself longing for your loved ones. So much time has passed. You wonder how they’re doing. Are they well? Are they worried?

“Aah, it’s Shrimpy!” Floyd crashes into you with so much force you nearly topple. He steadies you with a giggle. “Where’s Baby Seal?”

“Left to gorge on refreshments. Hey, since you’re here, can I get your picture?”

“Course you can.”

Detaching himself, he poses for you. You take a few photos, mirroring his good mood.

“Are your parents around?”

“Mhm!”

“Seriously? They came?”

“Course they did.”

“Did they take transformation potions?”

Floyd nods. “Pops does land business sometimes, so he’s used to it. Mama doesn’t leave home much. She’s real bad at walking on her feet.”

“Ah, got it.”

Floyd grins down at you. “You wanna meet ’em?”

“Maybe later… I’ve gotta keep taking photos.”

“I gotcha. Make sure to snap a few of Azul.”

“Right! Speaking of him, where is he? I’ve spoken to everyone but him.”

Floyd peers out across a sea of faces, scanning each one like a predator sizing up his next meal. “He’s avoidin’ ya.”

“What? Why?”

“Why don’tcha ask him when you see him? Bet he’ll have a fun answer for ya.”

You would, if only you could find him. As the afternoon wears on, you begin to lose hope. If he’s truly hiding from you, he’s doing a great job of it. After what feels like hours of walking in aimless circles, you take pause to consider the situation. If you were Azul and you wanted to hide away for a little while, where would you go?

To someplace familiar. To someplace comfortable. To someplace quiet.

He’s pacing in front of Ramshackle when you arrive. You open the gate and step through, taking each step one at a time. Once you’re within a close enough proximity, you make your presence known.

“Azul?”

He startles and whips around. As soon as he sees you, he lurches forward, intending to leave.

You block his path. “Hey, wait! What gives? I’ve been looking all over for you. Floyd told me you’re avoiding me.”

“Floyd doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“But I’m sure you do. So what’s up?”

“It’s…nothing. I merely wanted to tour campus one last time.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve come with you!” You attempt to elbow him, but he side-steps you. “Uh, right…”

“Ah, sorry. I… Admittedly, there’s quite a lot on my mind.”

“I get it. Congrats, by the way. Your speech was really good.”

“I’m pleased you think so.”

This…isn’t Azul, you realize, a frown flickering on your face. At least not the Azul I usually see.

“I got to meet all of Kalim’s siblings.”

“Did you? All of them?”

“Every. Single. One. His family’s huge!”

An uncomfortable silence festers between the two of you. You glance at your camera and then at Azul.

“Can you believe that Crowley? He wanted me to take all of these pictures, but there were dozens of professionals who did it much better than me! What was even the point?”

“Terrible, isn’t it? A job as good as the one you do deserves proper payment.”

“Exactly! My services aren’t free.”

Azul smiles, a wistful gloss to his gaze. You can see the cogs turning behind his eyes—can see the calculation as it comes to fruition.

“You can cry. I won’t judge.”

“I’m not going to.”

“It’s fine. It’s normal, Azul.”

He inhales a deep breath, holds it for three seconds, and then releases. When he looks at you next, his expression is hard and riddled with subdued anxiety. A zephyr blows between you, rustling the leaves in the trees, raking through the grass, dragging wispy fingers through your clothes and hair. The quiet expands and stretches wide.

Azul opens his mouth, shuts it, and sighs. A forlorn resignation flits over his countenance.

“I—” he swallows hard and then it just bursts free, the admission he’s kept secret for so long— “I love you.”

Another breeze combs through the premises. Your gasp is swept away with it.

“I’ve loved you for two years. And I… I wanted to tell you so many times in the past, but I never could. I was scared and I ran away. I still am! The truth is that I’m afraid of losing you. I’m afraid of messing up in front of you and looking like a fool. I’m afraid of showing you the parts of myself I hate most. I’m even afraid of that phrase—of saying it because it terrifies me to think, in some distant world, it might be reciprocated. But I have to say it, and I want you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I have to tell you.”

You gape at him, utterly speechless. The longer you do so, the more flustered he becomes.

“Y-You’re free to think it’s gross or weird. I understand I’m not the most ideal candidate, but I…” He wrings his hands, exhaling shakily. “I think you’re everything. My whole world.”

There are so many things you want to say. So, so many. But they’re all jumbled, carried along like flowers floating down a stream in spring. You close the gap, taking his hands in yours, and you kiss him.

Azul startles, squeaking against your lips. It takes a minute for him to find his rhythm, but soon he’s wilting against you, his body relaxed. You taste saliva and salt—tears. When you pull back, he’s crying.

“I think you’re the most ideal candidate. I’ve always thought so.” You cradle his cheek in a warm hand.

A sob trembles through him. “I never thought—you’re just so… I couldn’t have imagined…”

“That I’d like you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” “Because…”

“I’ve always liked you, Azul. I’d never lie about that. Your birthday gift—those are my honest opinions.”

“Every one of them?”

“Each and every one.”

He sniffles weakly, drying his eyes with the heel of his palm.

Instinctively, you reach for your camera. And then you hesitate. You’ve always stood behind the protective lens of your trusty Ghost Camera, assuming the role of photographer in order to remain in his orbit. But now you’d like to try putting the camera aside and documenting Azul’s moments with your own two eyes.

He loves me.

You just manage to shut the front door before you’re pulling him flush against you. He presses you up against the wall in the foyer, a knee slotting between your legs. You melt in mutual merriment, grabbing at every part of him. Your uniform blouse is ripped open in a hurry. You try to handle his graduation robes with caution, appreciating expensive embroidery, but vehemence gets the better of you. It’s a wild rush. Hot and panting, you’re shuddering in carnal delight, every nerve alight. When he presses up against you next, half-dressed and hazy with an addictive adoration, you can feel the result of your exploratory touches straining for release.

“Upstairs,” you mumble against his mouth, sweating out of your skin.

You fall into bed as one, tangled around each other. Azul trails kisses up the expanse of your stomach, working you open on skillful fingers. You shiver beneath him, your heart pounding in your ribs.

“I love you.” A kiss to your belly.

“I love you.” A kiss to the valley of your breasts.

“I love you.” A kiss to your lips.

You love him just as intensely.

He drags his fingers out next, admiring the slick coating them like it’s a valuable substance. You giggle, dizzy with delirium.

“Can I call you mine?”

You run your hands up and down his arms. “I’d like that.”

“Your boyfriend,” he murmurs, astonished. “I’m your boyfriend…”

“Mhm…” You sit up in bed and climb into his lap. Slowly, inch by inch, you lower yourself. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth. “And I’m—mmh—I’m your girlfriend.”

Azul whines into your mouth. His arms wrap around you to keep you firmly pinned to his body, and he bucks his hips up to meet you the rest of the way. Filled in such a way, connected so intimately, you breathe a satisfied sigh. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Every muscle slackens. It’s bliss, pure and perfect. The both of you mold to one another like sea meeting shore.

You grind down, chasing a mounting climax. “You’re the best—perfect. So perfect. Oh, I love you, Azul. I love you so much. I’ve always wanted to say it.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You have no idea how fervently I’ve yearned for this—for you.”

You can’t possibly begin to imagine, but you can definitely relate. Weeks of silent pining, of hoping something might happen and you’d be able to confess without fear. Those days are behind you. Now you can know love in his arms and it isn’t so uncertain.

You lose yourselves in the sensations of sweet, soulful sex. He’s gentle like a spring breeze, dedicated like a devotee at your altar. You’re much the same, your moans just as plentiful. Just as loud. You’re wrapped in wonder when you look into his eyes and find the same amount of love reflected back.

I’m so happy I met you.

When he cums, he digs his fingers into your hips to drag you down and bury himself deeper inside. You unravel shortly after, your orgasm coaxed out by a few attentive massages to your clit. Your bodies, sticky and sweaty, stay connected even after you’ve come down from the clouds.

“Had I known, I would’ve said something sooner.” After catching his breath, Azul rests his head in the crook of your neck. “I regret it.”

“I don’t. Things happen when they happen.” You run your fingers through the tangled, silvery strands of his hair. It’s soft just like him. He leans into your touch and hums appreciatively. “I’m glad it happened when it did.”

“I’m glad I could say it. It would’ve eaten me alive if I’d left without telling you.”

“And are you still afraid?”

Azul places his hand over yours. “No, not anymore. The world ahead looks much clearer now.”

“Am I in it?”

He laughs. “More than that.”

“Oh?”

“You are my world.”

#twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul x reader #n/sfw

514 notes · View notes

onlyhuis · 3 months

Text

to-do list

member — coworker!joshua x f reader genre — smut (18+ mdni) word count — 1.7k synopsis — all you need to make a boring afternoon at work more fun is a hot coworker and an insane amount of sexual tension. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (joshua receiving), implied other sex positions, as usual joshua himself is a warning notes — i wrote this on my phone while (you guessed it!) bored at work, sitting next to my (unfortunately not very hot) coworker. @onlymingyus is to blame for the creation of this and for making me suffer

you're grateful to have the most boring job in the world.

the days when your supervisor has nothing for you to do are simultaneously the best and worst days of your job. on the one hand, you get to sit at your desk and get paid to scroll on your phone or read a book or listen to music or play solitaire on your computer. on the other hand... without anything to distract you, you're acutely aware of your hot coworker sitting at the desk right next to yours.

you can't help but steal glances at him, dark hair falling in his eyes as he stares down at the phone in his hand, furiously typing something. the barely audible sighs he lets out as he reclines in his chair, flexing his arms as he stretches out and giving you a split second view of his stomach when his shirt lifts up.

you can't help but wonder what he's doing on his phone to occupy his time, but you refuse to let your curiosity get the best of you. it'd be so easy to just turn your head and stare, but you're not going to let him have that satisfaction.

instead you take what you hope is a nonchalant sip of your drink, some fruity smoothie you grabbed from the cafe downstairs before your shift.

"you've got whipped cream on your nose," joshua says suddenly without looking up, his voice cutting through the silence of the office. the sound of the clock on the wall ticking away each uncomfortable second is the only thing keeping you going at this point, taunting you with the promise of a lunch break and some time to yourself to reset away from the thick tension hanging over the office.

your face flushes, quickly wiping your nose against your sleeve and mumbling a quiet "thanks" as he looks over at you. the room suddenly feels way too warm as his gaze follows your movements for a few seconds too long before he turns back to his own desk.

"you didn't bring a lunch today," he says without looking up from his phone again, all too casually considering the way he was eyeing you just moments ago. "planning on leaving early?"

"no. just left it at home," you rush to say, your voice coming out less confident than you'd like.

"you're welcome to join me," he grins, still looking down.

you squeeze your thighs together unconsciously, the idea of spending an hour alone with joshua sending your imagination into a frenzy. "sure," you manage, clearing your throat and trying to regain some semblance of control over yourself. "wanna take an early lunch? we've got nothing better to do."

he turns off his computer monitor with a skilled flick of his wrist, standing up to face you. "sure," he repeats, parroting your words back to you. you nearly start to melt at his full attention on you, but luckily he breaks the silence before you have a chance to embarrass yourself. "my car, or yours?"

"oh, i- i walk," you say, hurrying to turn off your computer and grab your bag, following him to the door. "i don't live too far."

he holds the office door open for you, ushering you out with a smile. "well, if you ever need a ride, you have my number. i'd be happy to be your chauffeur."

you're stunned into almost complete silence. yeah, you had his number from a work group chat, but you'd never tried to reach out. you were still surprised he even knew your name.

"your sweater is pretty, by the way," he comments as you cross the parking lot to his car, holding the passenger door open for you to slide in.

"thanks," you stumble over your words, still trying to convince yourself that you're not dreaming. your coworker that you maybe (definitely) have a crush on taking you to lunch, offering to give you rides, and he thinks your outfit is pretty?

"you seem nervous," he chuckles, pulling you out of your thoughts. "do i really fluster you that bad?"

"i'm not flustered," you argue, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you. the february weather is still chilly, so you could easily blame it on the way joshua's car heater is turned up to the maximum, but you're pretty sure he knows better. "i'm just fine," you repeat, pursing your lips and staring out the front windshield.

silence fills the air again. he puts his hand on the back of your headrest, glancing over his shoulder as he turns around to back out of the parking lot. it's disgustingly hot and you can't help but stare, his arm so close to your face that you can see the veins bulging in his wrist.

"who are you texting when you're on your phone all the time?" you ask suddenly, a rush of boldness overtaking you. "girlfriend, maybe?" it's shamelessly, blatantly clear what you're asking, and joshua smirks knowingly.

"jeonghan," he says, glancing over at you and flashing his stupid dazzling smile at you as he pulls out of the driveway. "best friend. he keeps asking when i'm gonna take the pretty girl from work out on a date."

"and what did you tell him?" you say, trying to hide your eagerness to hear his answer.

"right now, if i'm lucky," he replies smoothly. he's so fucking good at this and somehow you don't hate it.

you fix your gaze outside the window, forcing yourself to look at anything but him. "well, you can tell him it worked," you reply, hoping he doesn't notice your embarrassment. you don't look over at him, but you already know he's wearing that smirk again.

the rest of the ride to the restaurant is quiet. but the uncomfortableness about the silence is gone, replaced with a tension so palpable you could cut through it with a knife.

but joshua doesn't need a knife; he slices through it easily with just a hand on your thigh. it sends shivers down your spine, and it takes every ounce of your restraint you have not to move. your skin is on fire as you cross your legs, hoping he doesn't notice how on edge you are. but of course he notices, the ever perceptive joshua knowing exactly the kind of heat that's running through your body.

you don't even know what restaurant he's taking you to— for all you know he could be taking you to his house to murder you, but frankly you don't give a shit as long as he keeps touching you. god, you haven't felt this needy in months, maybe even years, and he can probably tell, too.

but luckily for you it seems he's not a murderer, because soon he pulls into the parking lot of some restaurant you've heard the name of before but never cared to try. for midday on a tuesday the lot is surprisingly empty, but it seems to work out in your favor as joshua turns off the car and noticeably keeps his hand on your thigh, making no moves to unlock the door or get out.

you finally drag your gaze away from the window to meet his eyes, and the rest happens in a blur. you can barely keep your thoughts going in a straight line because oh his cock is so hard and he's trying to hide it but also not trying to hide it and why is it so big and please for the love of everything that is holy in this world let me get railed in this parking lot right now.

joshua says something that you won't remember later, something along the lines of "can we skip lunch and i'll eat you instead". or actually, maybe you're the one that said that because he starts unbuckling his belt with a grin, but he's going way too slow so you decide to help him by unzipping his pants for him. and holy shit yeah it's big, but you're so eager to take the entire thing down your throat that you barely even notice the tears filling your eyes and the way you gag on him.

what you definitely do notice are the strained groans he lets out as your tongue swirls around his cock and the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap before you grab his fingers and push them into your hair, urging him to adjust your head how he wants.

it's not long before his hands tug upwards on your hair instead, pulling you off his cock with a wet sound. you inhale a deep breath, pretty lips smeared with spit and precum and eyes wet with tears, and what you find when you finally look up at him is a shock but also the most satisfying feeling you've ever had in your life.

the only word you can think of to use to describe him is broken. his brows are knit tightly together, beads of sweat forming at his hairline as his chest heaves with shallow breaths. his normally perfect smile has vanished, nose scrunched and jawline slack.

it takes him a second to collect himself, blinking as you smile up at him proudly. "fuck-" he starts, his voice higher and shakier than you're used to hearing from him. "fuck, i'm so glad you said yes."

before you even have time to process his sentence he leans across the console and pulls you closer, crashing his lips against yours with a whine so desperate you can't tell which one of you made the sound. you can feel his tongue inside your mouth, eagerly tasting himself on your lips.

it doesn't take long for the both of you to fall into the backseat of his car, moans tangling together as he holds you against the window. with the speed and intensity he's fucking you with, if you were to venture a guess you'd say he's probably been waiting for this moment for months. but the pleasure is too overwhelming for you to dwell on it as he expertly draws orgasm after orgasm out of you, the restaurant you're currently outside of the farthest thing from you mind.

when you finally climb back over to the front seats, neither of you question it when you simultaneously pull out your phones to text your boss that you're taking the rest of the day off.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @just-here-to-read-01 @darlingvernon @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @honglynights @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @mingminghao @jeanjacketjesus @luvwonyy @tinkerbell460 @novalpha @ronnie97b @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @usari @hyneyedfiz @honestlydooetree @ktackore @k-drama-adict @cloecard @valentxi @aaniag @aaasia111 @crvs4vldtn @seungkw1

strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are off so i can tag you properly!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

#kvanity #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #joshua smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #joshua hong smut #joshua imagines #joshua fanfic #joshua x reader #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios

560 notes · View notes

ice-cream-writes-stuff · 11 months

Text

■□▪︎COURTING▪︎□■ Part 1

{Miguel O'hara/Reader}

《You decided to screw around with biology/Your attempts at trying to wooTHEE Miguel O'hara.》

"Pav, Hobbie, Gwen! Hiya!" Your enthusiastic voice calls out to the younger Spiderlings. Jess, who sees you happily taking the teens in a group hug. It catches Miles off guard but reciprocates the hug. Gwen flinches, but relaxes in your hold. While Pav snuggles into your warmth, Hobbie groans playfully, patting you on the back.

You chuckle and let them go, before smiling brightly at Jess and waving at her stomach. "Hi little buggy! Your mom is doing an amazing job! Don't make it hard for her!" You tease, causing Jess to lightly chuckle at your antics.

˚Female Wolf Spiders have a strong attachment to their children since they (unlike most spiders) carry them around in their egg sac and do not abandon them. They even protect their newborns after they hatch."

"So... How did the first mission go?" You said warmly, gazing at the teens pridefully. Miles smiles, chatting excitedly. Even pulling out a small art book he had brought with him, drawing a small doodle of what the villain looked like.

"Oh, oh!" Pav excitedly raises his hand, taking your attention.

"Yes?"

"How's it been going with getting the bossmans attention?" Hobbie interrupts with a playful smile directed at Pavitr. "I wanted to ask that!" Pavitr whines as all the young Spiderlings gaze at you.

Jess laughs as you smile happily.

"It's been going well! I think-" You pause as a small noise alerts you.

"I'll have to tell ya'll later, I was assigned another mission, see you soon!"

As soon as you left, Miles turns the page of the paper as little notes and comments are written all over the place. A small doodle of Miguel in his spider suit glaring at you in your own spider suit.

"It oddly feels like bingo.." Gwen remarks. Laughing slightly at her own set of notes, she added.

"I mean, you can't blame us! (Y/N) is literally pulling out all the tricks to get Miguel!" Pavitr says, adding a small heart between the two doodles of you and Miguel.

■ Attempt one!■

Males in a few species locate a female and unceremoniously run to her and mate, others court by rhythmically plucking the threads of a web. After the female approaches, he pats and strokes her before mating.

After a long and stressful mission and capturing another anomaly. Your team follows behind you, groaning tiredly and a bit slow to your up-beat pace.

"Miguel~!"

The futuristic Spider-Man eyes your group, nodding to them for their job well done.

Miguel then growls when feeling you pounce on his unmoving body. You hug his waist tightly as Lyla snidely. Your group, afraid of your well-being, beg you to let go. Fearing that he'd kill you, or the more plausible idea, throw you into a wall.

Miguel scoffs as your grip becomes tighter, struggling to get you off of him as you squeal happily.

■Attempt two!■

Wolf Spiders perform a mating ritual that are a combination of visual display and vibrations akin to a courtship song. IF the female denies, she may eat the male.

You twirl and swing beautifully in the air, singing to the song playing in the background as you and Miguel track down a music themed Vulture.

When a male jumping spider encounters a female—literally any female—he launches into an elaborate courtship dance, including rhythmic flailing of limbs and complex vibrations.

Miguel rolls his eyes at your small movements that look like you were dancing. Your groove, not being thrown off as you manage to pull Miguel into a clumsy one-sided waltz as you kick the (finally) tied down Vulture.

His mean comments not helping your dancing as Miguel quietly chuckles at your actions.

[Part two will be released soon! This is gonna be probably one of my best series yet! Taglist is open for ONE HOUR. Comments are highly appreciated and need to keep this series going! Thank you guys so much!]

(Also, (Y/N) is GN! Miggy is male.)

2K notes · View notes

itsbuckytm · 5 months

Text

Little Bird / Coriolanus Snow

summary: Being the Capitol's favorites subject has consequences. Consequences that subject to be paired with the most influential man in Panem entirely.

notes **reader is an idol/singer in Capitol's first attempt into making a group for each annual Hunger Games. but with snow's obsession into making you entirely his and with his job as mentoring lucy gray, he tries his very best, but fails miserably.

ps ; english isn't my first language so i apologize in advance for some minor errors and please do not copy my work without credit thank you!

Your connection with Snow encompassed diverse facets. At times, he exuded an irresistible charm, drawing you in effortlessly. Yet, in the next moment, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with audacious intent, as if daring anyone to approach and touch even the slightest expanse of your skin – a challenge few would ever contemplate.

Being the Capitol's favorite came with its own set of challenges. Compliments on your skills or charisma were either sincere or fueled by envy, making it doubly difficult for those striving to surpass their yearly earnings. This aspect of Panem's functioning was something Coriolanus exploited way too much. The artificiality of the stage, adorned with makeup to project an illusion of wealth, highlighted what he found enduring. The ease with which one could become the favorite by merely speaking or moving to the latest musical rhythm was something Coriolanus himself could not keep his eyes away from. And that person was you.

He despised witnessing other men vying for your attention, their eyes lighting up as soon as you entered the Capitol's theater. There was no denying that you were the favorite member among your group. However, during your debut, the spotlight only found you officially when it was announced that the Capitol's new favorite group would be welcoming a new member. Given your position at the Academy, your choices were limited – either mentoring a tribute and risk bringing shame to your family if they lost. Or become part of Panem's newest favored diversion. It wasn’t until the very next day, that many became obsessed with you. And as much as Coriolanus tried to oblige on that single though, he was afraid to admit that he too became a little too obsessed over you.

To compound Coriolanus's discomfort, he had to endure the ceaseless styling rituals accompanying each new album or song released to the public. This entailed donning short skirts and crops, transforming your body into a specific attire as a statue to be admired for hours on end. For the hapless Coriolanus, sitting there was challenging enough, watching you perform with a self-assured smirk, reveling in every bit of skin. How the skirt would flare up and brush against your skin, how he wanted to feel such fantasy. From each moments of your act, while beads of sweat glistened across every inch of your body. He couldn't help but fantasize scenarios from scenarios that you would be his, envisioning the two most influential figures of the Capitol as the perfect pair. And that was only during the ceremony of the 10th Hunger Games.

Post the 10th Hunger Games, a significant shift occurred. Lucy Gray's presence lingered in Coriolanus's thoughts, causing him to perceive you in a completely new light. You were constantly in his mind. Although you though, with hearing the constant rumors of a possible relationship between him and his tribute. While you continued to excel in your performances, earning the success both you and your group rightfully deserved, you were aware of Coriolanus's altered fate.

Once he had been sent back to District 12 after his victor, Lucy Gray, who was also a performer. He remembered occasionally, after the victory ceremony, how you had the opportunity to chat with Lucy Gray. Discovering that your old classmate may have developed feelings for her. As Coriolanus Snow’s proud smirk upon seeing the people he seemingly cared for interacting with each other. Only to be so blind by the fact that you had expressed prior feelings for him, but instead confidently expressed his plan to join forces and visit her in her District wasn’t what you had intended to hear.

While you refrained from expressing any objections, your suspicions regarding the burgeoning emotions between the two of them proved well-founded. Little did you know, Coriolanus engaged in those actions merely to divert his thoughts from you, acknowledging he wouldn't have a chance with you. Lucy Gray became his chosen distraction. Simultaneously, he caught wind of a potential rumor suggesting you were seen intimately with another man. The revelation that this man wasn't him intensified his already pronounced obsession with you. However, this time, Lucy Gray played a role in assisting him.

The revelation of his truth dawned on him only upon his return to Panem. The snake bite's impact intensified, with only your silhouette haunting his thoughts. In this return, he presented a wholly transformed appearance – his hair slightly longer, adorned in his father's old crimson jacket, albeit somewhat intoxicated, attempting to erase all memory of you. What Snow remained oblivious to was your patient anticipation during his absence in District 12. It was Tigris who knocked on your door that very evening, sparing you from the surprise of his return.

However, Snow chose to make his entrance at the stroke of midnight, reminiscent of the times when both of you would clandestinely navigate the Academy. In those intimate moments, he patiently bided his time for the Capitol streets to empty, stealthily entering through your bedroom window. Hours were spent in each other's arms, reveling in discussions about new projects, with his assurances that everything would be alright.

This time, however, an inebriated Snow had a different agenda beyond comforting cuddles for sleepless nights. His primary goal was to solidify your relationship officially. "If you don’t tell her, I will." Echoed Tigris’s voice in his mind upon seeing her cousin return from duty as a Peacekeeper. She was among the few who truly knew about the budding romantic connection between Coriolanus and you. She pleaded with her cousin to go ahead, noting. "She hasn't touched a man since the last time you spoke, you know." That last statement served as a testament to your unwavering fidelity towards him. It was only a matter of time before he knocked on your door that very night.

On the contrary, you took it upon yourself to tidy up the entire apartment. Anticipating Coriolanus's return, you were determined not to leave a single mess, mindful of both his and your own peace of mind. Despite the fact that chaos often defined your shared living space, when in each other's arms, you both found solace in tidiness and tranquility. However, as dinner passed and bedtime approached, you couldn't help but notice Coriolanus's absence. Was he running late, or was he entangled in some trouble that you would only learn about the next morning? Various questions raced through your mind as you attempted to drift off helplessly on the living room couch, with the TV's echo serving as a backdrop.

Coriolanus stood there silently, observing from a distance outside your apartment window. Anyone observing from afar would catch a glimpse of you nibbling at your cuticles – a habit he had learned you indulged in when he wasn't around, a realization that would later make him feel remorseful upon witnessing the marks it left on your fingers. In response, he would tenderly peck each bruise, a silent acknowledgment of your thoughts mirroring his own. However, this time, he chose to forgo surprising you with the cliché bouquet of flowers or any conventional gesture. After indulging in the contents of a second wine bottle before making his way to you, he had no plans of raiding the florist shop either. Knocking on your door with determination, he felt an unusual hesitation, a departure from his past boldness of entering and showering you with kisses. Contemplating the prospect of declaring you entirely as his, especially in his inebriated state, he wasn't entirely certain if you would fully trust his words.

Luckily, you had left the door ajar for him, a gesture he expected. Upon entering, he was met with the familiar background echo of the TV, confirming his assumption that you were already asleep. Nostalgia washed over him as he recalled the mornings spent lounging in bed with you or embarking on early runs for coffee. Despite his aspirations to bring about change in Panem and restore his family's reputation by aspiring to become President, he understood that true fulfillment wouldn't come until he had you by his side entirely. Limping slightly due to the effects of his drunkenness, he made his way into the living room and began to softly whisper your name, until his gaze met your sleeping figure. "Y/N... My sweet bird."

His breath carried warmth that gently brushed against your cold skin. Despite the lingering scent of alcohol, indicating Snow had been drinking before his arrival, your eyes responded to the touch of his finger delicately tracing your cheek. "Coryo…" you murmured his name with a loving tone, reveling in the vulnerability of calling out to him. "Shh… I am here," he reassured you, prompting a soft smile to grace your lips at the sound of his comforting voice. A voice you had missed dearly, compelling you to slowly rise from the much-needed slumber after a demanding day. However, lately, without Snow's presence in your arms, the nights became sleepless and challenging to endure alone. Despite acknowledging this truth, there was a conflicting sensation, a twinge of discomfort knowing that Coriolanus relished the fact that without him, you felt incomplete. It was this dynamic that rendered the two of you an unforgettable pair, seemingly inseparable.

“How I missed you so much.” He continued to say, with seeing your face arousing from your slumber, how he had missed kissing your soft lips each night before going to sleep. If it wasn’t for being a Peacekeeper back in District 12, he’d say he was damn for letting himself kiss Lucy Gray while thinking of you the entire time. “I missed you more, Coryo. Everytime, during performances and even in my relentless dreams.”

A subtle smile played on his features as his fingers traced down your body, an unspoken desire evident in his every touch. His lips yearned to kiss every inch, a longing to finally claim you as his own. He envisioned proudly holding your hand in public, marking you as his and sending a clear message to other men about your ownership. "You want to know something?" The amusement in his voice prompted a soft giggle from you, appreciating his seemingly all-knowing manner of sharing information, despite the evident effects of his earlier drinking. "What, drunk boy?" You playfully teased, noting the light pink hue that adorned his cheeks—a clear sign of his inebriation.

He vehemently denied it with a pout, his lips subtly mimicking a desire for a kiss. Coryo was just touch starved. "You know, I haven't been properly fed with love lately. Coryo has been away from his bird for far too long..." His voice deepened, the intensity of his gaze barely allowing for a blink, making it abundantly clear who he desired: you. An intensifying blush crept on your features this time. Of course you knew your history with him, a caring gentleman who made sure to take care of the one he loved most. But this Coriolanus, objected something in you that you enjoyed seeing probably a little more. To be completely under his control. To bow to his command.

"And as much as I hate to admit..." Your voice took on a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the confidence you exuded in the public eye. Sensing his fingers trailing down your body, from your hips to your lips, he couldn't help but notice their softness, prepared to be pampered at his command. However, he had to restrain his temptations for a moment, feeling his teeth sink into the bottom of his lip. You continued. "I might have been a naughty bird, moaning your name during sleepless nights, hoping you'd come save me from my little cage. You have no idea how eagerly I waited for you to come back."

Honestly, Coriolanus found himself just as taken aback by your confession, despite the obvious history between the two of you. The mere thought of you in bed, adorned in barely anything, accentuating your beautiful form, fingers exploring sensually. The vivid image of you pleasuring yourself, uttering his name amidst a chorus of enticing sounds, drove him to instant madness. Tonight, he was determined to lavish you with everything he could muster—to claim you as his own, leaving marks on your body that not even the most skilled makeup artist could conceal come morning. Without explicitly professing love in the conventional sense, it was evident that Coriolanus and you were destined to be together. In times of need or distraction, both of you instinctively knew where to find solace in each other's presence.

"I want you, Coryo..." you pleaded, your fingers clutching his shirt, the skirt from today's performance riding up slightly. Upon arriving from work, you had removed your underwear just for him—his eyes alone to witness, taste, and appreciate. His hands gripped firmly on your arse, and it was his turn to shift positions, settling onto the couch with you atop him. Your blouse, with a revealing cleavage, owed its allure to Tigris, your stylist. You couldn't help but wonder if the same effect would have been achieved without her touch. Extricating yourself from his grasp, you observed his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. It was a smirk that served as a reminder, and in that instant, you knew that tonight, you were unequivocally his—his and his alone, his cherished little bird.

"I can't wait to finally show my little bird what I can do."

Coriolanus spoke those words with genuine anticipation. It was undeniably the most memorable night, and he intended to recreate it repeatedly. After all, you were his little bird—his to cherish, tourmate, and play with as he pleased.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the huger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x y/n #president snow x reader #hunger games x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus imagines #coriolanus snow imagines #hunger games imagines

596 notes · View notes

loafgeto · 3 months

Text

FREAKS — 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. kamo choso

synopsis | at your university, choso is a student one would normally not associate with. however, you— a popular, attractive, and smart student can’t seem to disagree with that.

contents | fem!reader, no curses au, explicit language, college au, small lore, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, deep penetration, squirting, creampie, overstimulation, breaking the bed (somewhat), pet names

word count | 3.4k

notes | i’ve been craving choso content lately so here it is

“are you guys going to the party tonight? i heard that dude naoya is hosting it,” one of your friend’s mention. it’s a friday night, you all were walking out from the library and back towards your sorority hall just five minutes away— after a long and busy week of classes, clubs, activities, homework and assignments, it was finally time to celebrate the start of the weekend with a party.

“naoya’s pretty hot, don’t you think? his rude attitude strikes off five points, but he’s fuckable,” another one of your friend’s reply, earning several snickers from the other girls. “but he only wants to fuck [name] though,” she adds on as they all turn their eyes to you, but you weren’t even paying attention to anything they were chatting about.

your eyes were glued to your phone, messaging someone with a small grin and your friends exchanged quick glances. with a gentle tap on your shoulder, you finally shift your gaze to your friend beside of you. with an awkward stance, you place your phone screen against your chest.

“what’s wrong?” you question, blinking several times. your friends acknowledged this behavior of yours several months ago, they questioned frequently at the beginning— however this occurred consistently, and they stopped pestering since you never gave them a specific answer on what’s causing you to smile and distract you. “oh nothing. just wondering if you’re gonna go to the party tonight,” one of your friend’s reply.

“party?” you repeat— shortly recalling to the moment when one of the boys from a fraternity verbosely conveyed about another frat hosting a party to you in your calculus class. though, you briefly listened and didn’t continue to listen to the rest of what he was saying. but you already made plans for the night, so attending this party was never an option. “probably not, geto-sensei wants me to attend his 7pm lab. and as his teaching assistant, i can’t say no.”

“ahh, right right. but why not come the last hour?”

“that’s only if i feel energized enough,” you reply, flashing your friends a smile but of course, it indicates as an absolute no— since your plans may cause you to spend the night somewhere else. by the way, you weren’t actually going to attend professor geto’s lab, he didn’t even have one scheduled for friday’s. your friends just naturally believed it since you’re always a helping aide to him.

as your eyes weren’t directed ahead, you couldn’t detect another group of students walking in the opposite direction towards you and your friends— your shoulder collides with another student’s, someone taller, more muscular and could cause you to nearly stumble back but instead, it’s your phone slipping past your hand.

you gasp, eyes immediately following after your phone. as you were about to reach it before it fell, the other person you bumped into snatches it. your heart nearly stopped, in relief that your phone didn’t drop flat to the concrete ground beneath. you hear your friends take a quick breath and begin whispering upon the scene.

your eyes raise to meet the empty gaze of choso kamo, a relatively known student at your university. your phone is in his hands, secured and safe, however, none of that matters.

“your phone,” choso speaks— his voice sending immediate chills down your spine. you weren’t afraid of him, but his demeanor and attitude spikes dominance over you, threatening you— and you didn’t dare to look in his eyes any longer.

“thank you..” you quietly share your gratitude as you reach for your phone and quickly scatter away with your friends.

as you’re leaving, you can feel choso’s icy gaze following you and not once did you look back.

“you gotta get a new phone, [name],” one of your friends utter as you all reached the area of your sorority.

“what? i just got this phone, you know it’s not cheap,” you reply at an instant, sighing after as you all reach the steps of the large building. your friend chuckle, setting her hands on her hips.

“what? you’re saying you want the freak’s germs on it?”

“this isn’t middle school, and besides— he saved my phone from falling and potentially getting damaged,” you reply, as if you’re defending him, but your friends can’t continue to argue since he practically did do what you just said. “anyways, i have to get ready to go to professor geto’s lab. have fun at the party,” you add, passing through your friends to enter the house first.

you reach your room and step in, immediately shutting the door behind of you.

to begin with, why was choso called a freak? well, you attend a small, private, and prestigious university that has 3,000 students maximum. it’s perfect for the kids who are born in wealthy families, have excellent education and grades, and are worthy to present the school with honor. in the eyes of the public, the school is perfect— but nearly every student isn’t.

parties, drugs, and sex happen— per usual at every university, though information doesn’t normally spread across due to reputations.

choso just happens to enter the school due to the fact that he’s the chairman’s son, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t smart— in fact he is. choso, along with several of his freaky friends, run around campus not necessarily giving a damn about anyone or anything. they attend class of course, maintain grades and whatever like a normal student.

you never engaged with him as much, no one really wanted to. you don’t know what he did to earn his reputation, given that he’s two years older than you— but you’ve always heard it’s because he mumbles weird syllables in class, sometimes stares at a wall and hysterically laughs, or something similar to what a psychopath would do. it didn’t make anything easier because of the mark tattooed on his face. even so, you didn’t necessarily believe the rumors— as, you had to find out yourself, right?

when your friends leave for the party, you’re left completely alone. well, you make sure you’re alone before slipping back into your room— switching out your pairs of underwear and bra into something more laced, expensive and revealing. you throw on a small tight skirt and a shirt that just perfectly shapes your boobs. after retouching your makeup and hair, you looked like you were going to a party.

but of course you weren’t, and you put on a large jacket and a mask, not wanting anyone you know to see you in such clothes— after claiming you’re going to a lab lecture.

now, recalling to when you had to find out the rumors of choso yourself— it eventually happened, several months ago. you fortunately slipped into a small class with him and after a months observation, you came to conclusion that he’s completely normal. just a laid-back, stoic and bored dude who just wants to leave class, like all of the other students.

your impressions on him eventually changed when you became partners with him on a project.

from there, it was history.

“c-choso.. slow down~” the soft pitch of your mewls ring choso’s ears like a melody, arousing him to curl and thrust his fingers faster into your wet and needy cunt. he groans, feeling you squeeze around them as you’re kneading your nails into the his back muscles.

clothes discarded and scattered on the floor of his room, you’re laid back on the mattress of his bed, legs pushed apart so that choso’s between them and allowing him to insert his fingers into you easier. your moans whirring in the room, merging with the dirty sounds of your pussy yearning inches of him even more.

“the sound of your voice doesn’t seem to want me to slow down,” choso replies in a low purr, sending vibrations to your core, causing you to pulsate around his fingers. he presses gentle kisses against your ear, down towards your neck as he digs his fingers deep, coating them with your slickness. “how does this pretty girl want it tonight?”

“fuck- rough, tonight choso. need you s’bad after this week.. missed your touch so so much,” you reply, pulling him close to you as much as you could, trying to enclose the space between you both. you feel choso’s warmth all over you, yet you crave for more.

most people wouldn’t expect you to be begging to choso the freak, hardly anyone would— however, they didn’t know choso like you did. they didn’t know how good he is at sex— they didn’t know how much pleasure and satisfaction he brought to you, more than any other guy has. when they say he’s a freak, he definitely is a freak.

“sure about about that? sure you’re missing my touch? weren’t you just being touchy with those guys earlier at the library?” choso remarks with a grin, slipping his wet fingers out and circling your sensitive clit with his middle finger.

“t-they were just partners for a project!” you reply, a short moan following after as he pushes his fingers back into you.

“partners? do your partners usually stare at your ass and tits? what about the shoulder touches and head pats? did you like that? is that apart of the project?” choso’s trivial questions have you squint a puzzled look at him— was he serious right now? your expression of disbelief only causes him to chuckle, and of course, he’s joking for the matter.

“i only think about you- choso,” you choke out the response as you feel him rub the pad of his fingers against your g-spot, stimulating your climax at a gradual pace. the movements of his fingers have your mind stirring towards another thought, squeezing around them in order to sink them into you deeper. choso teases your clit again with his thumb, smiling at your reactions.

“do you?”

“yes—”

your words are interrupted as choso fastens his pace, knuckles slapping against your wet folds and creating lewd, wet noises in the room. you can’t even respond to his words properly because you’re so focused on the addictive pleasure, and choso’s using that as an opportunity to tease you.

“how much do you think about me? i want to know,” choso hums against your ear, and you can imagine a wide grin on his lips as he speaks.

“so, so much, choso. i imagine you fucking me every day—” your replies are so filthy and unimaginable— no one could ever guess you or anyone to be saying this to choso. but your words are genuine, you think about the man a lot, more than you anticipated. during the night, you can’t help but touch yourself, imagining choso pleasing you just like now. the amount of times you almost got caught moaning his name was innumerable.

“is that right?” choso whispers and leans to give you a kiss, a rough kiss. pressing his tongue against yours and moving his lips as if he’s devouring you. he’s uncertain if your words are genuine, but at that moment, it didn’t matter whether it was or not— he just liked to hear it.

of course, choso didn’t expect himself to be in situation like this— especially with you: a smart, diligent and popular student who has loads of friends, and dozens of men chasing after. he figured the attraction started when you both had class together, and eventually grew into you two fucking. choso didn’t complain though, besides: once you both finish college, you two will never cross paths again.

“choso- please, fuckfuck- ‘m about to cum-” you cry out when your lips parted, faint tears glossing your eyes. the erotic noises of your pussy and your moans mix, before you feel your legs tremble and your toes curl. you orgasm to satisfaction, squirting all over choso’s bed and hand when he pushes his fingers out.

the air feels heavy as your heart pounds, mouth gasping for breath. you didn’t even realize how much you came, and even choso was surprised with it. he smiles slightly, watching as you’re in a short daze. and when you look up at him, you see him already positioning his hard, thick pre-cum spilt cock at your entrance.

“w-wait choso, i’m still sensitive-”

but your words are in vain when choso pushes his cock into your cunt, instantly spreading your sensitive walls and causing you to reach another orgasm. you gasp, feeling choso fill your hole as he pushes your legs back further, putting you in a mating press position.

“my girl wanted it rough tonight, didn’t she?” choso says, already beginning to thrust hard at a moderate pace. your moans echo as a response to his words, walls clenching around him when you hear my girl.

choso lowers himself down, grunting softly as he sways his hips forcefully, slamming his cock into your pussy before having a hand wrapped around your neck. you feel a squeeze as his thrusts quicken, and chokes of moans falls from your mouth. his bare cock was fucking into you deep, rubbing every spot of your gummy walls and stimulating you towards your next high.

by now, anyone beyond the walls of the room could hear the moans and cries you were making, but it wasn’t like you two cared about it or the consequences.

as of now, choso was roughly pounding into you. a hand still around your neck as the other is pressing hard against the mattress, his hips thrusted quickly, creating loud sounds of skin slapping. you feel your core tightening, twisting from the amount of times he has already made you cum. the bed shook slightly underneath you and the frame nearly was railing against the wall.

your arms that were once around him had dropped above your head as your mind slowly starts to fog and thoughts no longer processed, aside from choso and the current moment. the mewls and other erotic sounds were reaching a higher pitch, and a knot was quickly forming in your stomach.

“choso- i’m gonna-” the warning was interrupted as choso’s cock grinds against your sensitive g-spot, making you cum at an instant. your short cry was muffled when choso presses his lips against yours, capturing your sounds into his mouth.

the night lead towards choso repeatedly making you cum with the rough pounding of his cock, and you couldn’t fathom the amount of times you came. the man hadn’t even came yet, as if he was saving it for the very end.

now lying on your chest, choso had lifted your hips towards his as he slips his cock in and out of you from behind. your loud cries and moans sink into the mattress as choso presses your face down against the material of his bed, grasping his hand around the strands of your hair and grunting along each thrust.

the sounds became sloppy, dirtying the bed that choso would have to clean again, and the smell of sex filled up the entire room.

“shit, princess—” choso moans when he feels you pulsate around him each time you came. he nudges his fingertips into the fat of your ass, possibly marking the skin. however, you’re unable to formulate words as he’s overstimulated you to an extent, your moans and the calls of his names only told him how you felt that moment: addicted to his cock. “that’s right, fucking take it.”

“choso.. fu-fuck,” you sob into the mattress, tears rolling down your cheeks as you feel him penetrate the deepest parts of your pussy. his hips slam against your ass harshly, sending stinging sensations throughout your entire body. “i can’t.. it feels s’good..”

“yeah, it does huh, baby?” choso cooed, caressing the side of your ass, watching as your uncontrollable moans proceed to fall out. “so good that you’re forgetting about everyone else?”

“ngh.. huh..” was all you could respond, it may look pathetic to be in a state like this— however, choso just knows how to make your mind flurry with so much thoughts that it blocks your focus of the outside world.

“i guess that’s a yes then,” choso smiles, pushing your head down further against the mattress as he abuses your hole with his cock. the bed frame continued colliding against the wall, creating louder creaking sounds as if the bed was about to break apart with how rough he was fucking you.

your eyes roll back as the ecstasy pumps through your veins, enough to make you cum again and again. it was too much to handle as much as it felt good, and choso wasn’t intending to stop anytime soon. he can see how much of a mess he’s made you, drunk all over his cock as usual.

choso never interacted with anyone on campus besides his siblings— only times happened to be during group projects or discussions, but they always ignored him each time. honestly, he didn’t even know where his reputation came from. maybe it was the fact that he had a tattoo on his face, but he did that out of spite of his father. however, he didn’t think it’d lead to people thinking he was some criminal or bad luck.

when he partnered up with you during a project, he thought you would just leave him to do it by himself and join another group. but you actually reached out to him and asked for his number, wanting to work on the project together like a normal partner. of course, he was surprised, that a girl like you would approach him despite the rumors.

the day you two shared a kiss and had sex for the first time on his bed, choso knew he had became addicted just as much as you’ve became addicted.

you two fucked anywhere and anytime you could: the backseat of his car, your sorority house’s kitchen, the gender neutral bathroom in the library, and even behind the bleachers in a field. even through all that, you two pretend not to know each other when crossing paths on campus. you’re in your own world, and he’s in his own.

but lately, choso couldn’t hold back the feeling of just claiming you as his. it was impossible to stop these lingering feelings he’s trying to hard to bottle up.

“fuck- i’m gonna cum, baby,” choso groans as his body slightly slumps over yours.

“cum in meee. please, choso-” you manage to beg out, gripping around him and trying to milk him dry with your cunt. “it’s my safe day— please—”

“anything for my girl,” choso replies, eyes lowering to his cock that coated with your wetness— slipping in and out repeatedly at a maintaining rough pace. his pace caused the bed to creak even louder, and a sharp snapping sound is heard— but neither of you pay attention. “gonna fill your pussy all the way up then, ‘kay? take it all like a good girl. and you better not waste it.”

“n-never! mm- choso!” you couldn’t stop crying out his name as your hands grabbed the sheets when he pounds his heavy load into you.

as choso groans, his warm cum spills into your baby room, milking the walls and filling you entirely. your eyes roll back, mouth open to heave air. your body shook and choso pulls out shortly after, sitting back and gasping for air.

you both watch as his cum slowly leaks out from your swollen pussy and streams down your thighs.

it becomes silent between the two of you, but your eyes lock shortly after and choso grabs a tissue box nearby to wipe the remaining cum streaming on your thighs.

“ch-choso…” you murmur as your body sinks into the bed, now, something felt odd.

“what is it?” choso questions when he tosses the tissue to the trans can near by and he climbs over you. he kisses your cheek, then down your jaw and back towards your lips. it was a sensual kiss, shared between two people who were slowly developing feelings for each other.

“i think.. we broke the bed,” you reply as he pulls inches away.

“oh, so that’s the sound i heard earlier.”

“what the fuck are you gonna say to the ra’s? you know these bed frames were new this year too! they might cost a lot of money..” you spat, giving choso a look of hesitation and concern. but he only chuckles before pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you pout.

“i’ll just tell them two freaks were fucking.”

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: hello dear readers, i apologize for so much delays, but i promise im getting back into writing again! i’ll be working on more content and publishing fics, so look out for those 🤭

#loafgeto #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso smut #jjk smut #anime smut #choso kamo smut #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso x reader #choso x reader smut #choso x y/n #jjk choso smut #jjk fics #choso fic #jjk oneshot #choso oneshot #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk choso x reader

851 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 4 months

Text

ONE SHOT: HIS LITTLE GIRL

PART TwO OF THE DARK & SEXY SERIES

NOTE: This is a series of one shots and mini series for Cillian Murphy & Tommy Shelby in which he acts totally off-canon. Most of these shots are very dark in nature and you should read their individual warnings. All of these shots are requests from readers. Co-written with @darkshelbyfiction! ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18. MINORS DNI.

PAIRING: CILLIAN MURPHY X VIRGIN READER

WARNING: DUB-CON, LOSS OF VIRGINITY, FORCED BREEDING (SOMEWHAT), DDLG-STYLE STORY, HUGE AGE GAP

It was Friday Evening, a few weeks after your 18th birthday and, as usual, you were out with friends when you ended up in some trouble.

You were sitting at the bar, nursing a drink when a group of guys started harassing you. They kept commenting on how pretty you looked and wouldn't leave you alone.

You knew you couldn't handle them, so you did what you always do when you needed help and your father was away for work. You called your father's friend, Cillian who had been dealing with your misbehavior and troublesome nature for quite some time after your parents had divorced.

He was an attractive man, in his mid-forties, with slightly greying hair and piercing blue eyes; he possessed a dominating and intimidating aura that seemed to command respect and when you saw him enter the bar, you were relieved.

"Cillian! Thank God you're here! I was being harassed by these creeps," you said, your voice cracking slightly as you tried to maintain composure while still trembling from fear as he walked in.

His eyes scanned the crowd, locking onto the group of men huddled together near the bar entrance.

"Y/N, let's get out of here," he said firmly, taking your hand and leading you away from the commotion. You felt a surge of relief, grateful that he had arrived just in time.

As you walked through the crowded bar, you could feel the stares of the other patrons on the back of your neck. You glanced sideways at Cillian, admiring his confident posture and the way he held his head high, as if daring anyone to challenge him. The mere thought of having someone take care of you sent a warm feeling coursing through your veins.

"What the fuck are you doing in a place like this anyway?" Cillian asked as he led you outside into the cool night air. "I mean, it's not like you've ever been much for restraint, but really now, Y/N?"

You didn't respond right away, instead opting to focus on breathing in the fresh breeze wafting over the cityscape. But then, you offered a sheepish smile and replied, "Well, I decided to try something new, and here we are."

Cillian snorted in response before offering to take you to his place since it was late and there wasn't any sense in letting you walk home alone, let alone allow you to stay in the empty house by yourself.

"Okay, but can you not tell dad about this?" you asked hesitantly, looking up at Cillian.

"Sure, I will promise to keep quiet if you promise me to behave yourself the next time you go out and do not go to shady places like these," he replied gruffly, flashing a lopsided grin at you. His car was parked a few blocks away and the walk was a welcome change from the crowded bar. You chatted idly as you made your way to the vehicle, the tension from earlier beginning to dissipate.

Once inside the car, Cillian drove smoothly toward his apartment, and you couldn't help but admire the strength emanating from him despite his calm demeanor.

When you arrived at Cillian's place, he unlocked the door quietly, leading you upstairs to his living room with a protective hand on your lower back. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as he fumbled around in the dim light trying to find the switch for the lights.

Finally, the room lit up, revealing the tasteful decor and cozy furniture and, since he had only just moved into this new apartment, you took some time to assess your surroundings.

This place was a stark contrast to your father's modest abode - it was bigger, brighter, and filled with modern art pieces that hung on the walls. There was even a balcony overlooking the city, which would make for an amazing spot to watch the sunrise on lazy mornings. You realized that this was the first time you actually saw Cillian's home and it made you feel a bit awkward. However, you soon found your bearings and started making small talk with him as you waited for him to gather some blankets and pillows for you to sleep on the couch.

"Now tell me, how is school going for you?" Cillian asked casually, knowing that you were just about to sit your final exams, breaking the silence between you both as he took a seat next to you on the couch and handed you a glass of water.

"Oh, same old stuff, you know, studying, taking tests," you replied nonchalantly, shrugging off the question.

"And that boyfriend of yours? How is he doing?" he continued, a hint of worry creeping into his tone after he had met this young man a few weeks ago.

"We broke up last week," you admitted, feeling a pang of sadness. "It turned out that he was cheating on me all along."

Cillian placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"It's just. I never...I mean, I should have seen it coming," you mused aloud, swirling the ice around in your glass of water.

"Listen Y/N, you are a good girl. There will be others, others who are much more deserving of you," Cillian murmured softly, his thumb caressing your cheek gently, sending shivers down your spine. "But until then, don't rush things; it isn't healthy. Take some time for yourself, figure out what you want in life, and go for it."

"I guess you're right, Cillian," you sighed wistfully, staring blankly at the floor in front of you.

"I know I am right. I am always right," he mused, running a finger along your arm. You flinched at first, startled by the unexpected touch, but gradually relaxed under his gentle guidance. "Like I said, you are a smart girl, Y/N, so don't waste your youth on boys who don't deserve you," he went on to say before leaning closer.

You could smell the faint scent of soap and shampoo on his skin, a mixture of spice and cleanliness that made you feel strangely comfortable.

His fingers grazed your arm gently, sending a lightning bolt of excitement racing through your body. You wanted to pull away and yet, something strange compelled you to stay put.

"Thanks, Cillian," you managed to squeak out, your heart pounding loudly enough to drown out everything else.

"You are welcome," he responded smoothly, reaching over to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered against your cheek, and his scent enveloped you, leaving traces of warmth in your wake.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder while his fingers traced undefined patterns over your skin.

His fingers eventually followed a trail from your neck down to your breasts, and as they reached your chest, he paused.

"You are beautiful, you know that right?" he whispered into your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

"I guess, yes," you muttered, your heart hammering wildly beneath your ribs as Cillian's fingers moved downward.

"Good," Cillian said and you could feel the heat rising within you, intensifying every sensation and emotion. His touch was almost too much to bear, yet it was also irresistible. You swallowed hard, unable to look away, captivated by the sensations coursing through your body.

"Let me ask you, Y/N, has your boyfriend ever touched you up here?" asked Cillian, his fingers tracing circles over your clothed breasts and your eyes widened, and you gulped nervously. "Yes, sometimes he has," you mumbled, biting your lip to suppress a moan.

"How about down there? Has he touched your special place?" Cillian's fingers danced provocatively, inching closer to your groin.

Your heart raced, palms sweating, as you shook your head in disbelief. You'd never imagined this kind of situation with Cillian, but his presence was intoxicating, overwhelming your senses.

"No, no one has," you finally mustered.

"Really?" Cillian's tone grew huskier, his fingers now brushing against your inner thigh.

"I bet you're wet though, aren't you?" he asked you, smirking wickedly.

"No, I don't think so," you whimpered, but your voice lacked conviction as his fingers slid upwards, dangerously close to your panties.

"Come on, Y/N, admit it. I know you are aroused right now," Cillian coaxed, his voice low and seductive. "I have seen how you have been looking at me for years and now that you are old enough...," he then went on to say before trailing off and your face burned hot with embarrassment, but Cillian's fingers were relentless, dancing dangerously close to your panties.

"Cillian, we shouldn't," you protested weakly, but your heart raced and your breath quickened, betraying any attempt at resistance.

"Why not? Don't you want to be a good girl for me?" Cillian purred, his fingers teasing the edge of your panties.

"I do, but..." you trailed off, struggling to form coherent sentences.

"But what?" he prodded, his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. "Are you afraid of getting caught? Or maybe you think that you are still too young to have sex?" Cillian teased, his fingers expertly navigating through your underwear, his movements slow and deliberate.

"No, but I am nervous," you admitted, your voice barely audible. The anticipation building within you was overwhelming, and you desperately wanted to feel his breath on your skin.

"Nervous about what?" Cillian taunted, his fingertips pressing lightly against your clitoris beneath your underwear.

"I am nervous about having sex. I am worried that it will hurt when you put your, you know....in there..." you murmured, causing Cillian to chuckle.

"That's the thing, Y/N. The first time might be a little uncomfortable, but once you're used to it, it feels incredible. And trust me, I'll be gentle if you let me be your first," he assured you, his fingers now running over your wet slit, beneath your panties.

"I promise," he added, dipping one finger inside. You gasped softly, unprepared for the sudden intrusion.

"That feels weird," you gasped, gritting your teeth and clutching onto his arm for support.

"Because it's new," Cillian reassured you, his finger withdrawing briefly before sliding back in. "Try to relax, and breathe with me."

You nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on his voice, his rhythmic breathing. Slowly, you began to loosen up, allowing your muscles to unwind.

With each gentle thrust, you could feel his finger exploring deeper, discovering hidden depths within you.

You moaned softly, your hips undulating involuntarily, your breath becoming ragged.

Suddenly, he withdrew his finger, leaving you panting and wanting more.

"You are very wet now, Y/N," he murmured, his voice deepening even further as he pulled your panties down and slipped a digit back inside your folds. "And your pussy is so swollen, so ready for me. Please let me have sex with you," he begged you and your eyes shot open wide, and you gasped at the realization of what was about to happen if you said "yes"... You could feel your pulse throbbing in your veins, and your cheeks burning bright red.

"Come on Y/N. Let me put my cock inside that this little hole of yours. I promise it won't hurt for long," Cillian said, his voice dripping with lust. You glanced around nervously, aware that your heart was pounding uncontrollably and your breathing was heavy.

"You want to be my good girl, don't you?" Cillian whispered softly, his fingertip circling your nipple, creating a jolt of pleasure through your entire body.

"Okay, but you need to wear a condom," you interjected, swallowing nervously.

"Of course," Cillian reassured you before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small foil packet.

You watched intently as he undid his pants, pulled them down and then carefully removed the condom, rolling it onto his erect cock with practiced ease. Your heart hammered in your chest and your own juices pooled between your thighs at the sight of his engorged member.

"So beautiful. Now spread your legs for me, baby," Cillian instructed, his voice thick with desire. You did as you were told, your hands shaking with anticipation. Cillian knelt between your spread legs, his erection hovering just inches from your wet, eager pussy.

"Just like this, huh?" he asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your soaked opening. You whimpered, unable to contain your nervousness.

His cock looked huge in comparison to your small opening and the idea of having it inside you frightened you, but also excited you beyond belief.

"Relax, alright?" Cillian murmured softly, placing a supportive hand on your hip. "You might bleed a little, but it's completely normal. Trust me, it's nothing to worry about." His voice carried a soothing quality, and your heart rate gradually slowed down.

"Now, lift off the couch a little so that I can watch my cock go in," Cillian declared assertively, the intensity in his voice raising goosebumps across your arms.

You gulped, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

"Do you want me to lie back?" you ventured, feeling exposed yet curious after you adjusted your position.

"No, I want you to stay exactly where you are," Cillian insisted, his hand gripping your knee firmly.

"Okay," you murmured and Cillian sensed your apprehension and gave you a sly glance.

"Relax, Y/N. We are going to do this right," he assured you, his eyes locked on you. "It is going to be fun, okay? Just trust me."

You gave a weak nod, your heartbeat echoing in your ears, and a thin film of perspiration formed on your forehead. Cillian leaned in, his breath hot on your skin as he whispered, "Ready?"

"Yeah," you managed to croak back, your voice hoarse from anxiety.

You shifted restlessly on the couch, your heart pounding in your chest like a jackhammer. Cillian's firm grip on your knee grounded you, and gradually, you began to settle into the moment.

"Don't worry, I'll go slow," Cillian whispered, his voice rich and husky as he pressed the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You inhaled, steadying yourself, bracing for the pain.

"Breathe with me, Y/N," Cillian coaxed, his breath hot on your skin. "Take a deep breath and push out your pelvis."

You complied, your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on relaxing your muscles. Cillian eased forward, and with a slight pop, his cock breached your tight barrier.

"Ow!" you cried out, instinctively tightening against the intrusion.

"It's okay, Y/N," Cillian murmured encouragingly, stroking your upper thigh. "Just relax and remember to breathe."

You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as you forced yourself to relax. Cillian maintained a steady pressure, guiding his cock deeper into your slick, tight channel. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, threatening to burst free at any moment.

"Almost there," Cillian whispered, his voice sounding far away.

You grunted softly, feeling the stretch and burn intensify.

Cillian continued to guide his cock deeper, his pace steady and measured. The discomfort was overwhelming, but you focused on taking measured breaths, reminding yourself that this was part of the process.

"Alright, Y/N, we're halfway there," Cillian murmured, his voice low and soothing. "You're doing great."

"Is it supposed to hurt like this?" you whimpered, squirming uncomfortably.

"It is supposed to hurt a little," Cillian answered honestly before adding, "but it won't last forever. Just breathe and stay still for me. You will get used to the feeling soon," he reassured you and you took several deep breaths, willing yourself to relax. There was some blood on the cushion beneath you, but you pushed the image aside and focused on the task at hand.

Eventually, you felt him bottom out inside you, his cock filling you up completely with a sensation you hadn't experienced before.

Your heart pounded furiously, and your breathing became ragged.

"You're so damn tight, it feels so fucking good," Cillian groaned, his voice strained and husky and, despite his efforts, his cock twitched inside you, growing harder.

"Please," you managed to whisper, unsure whether you were agreeing to continue or begging him to stop. You could feel your insides quivering, an unfamiliar sensation spreading throughout your body. It was pleasurable at last and this, mixed with the pain, confused you.

Cillian's grip on your knee tightened slightly, steadying himself as he prepared to begin moving. He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly.

"Okay, Y/N, I'm going to start moving now," he warned, his voice husky and low. "Just relax and tell me if it hurts too much."

You managed a weak nod, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing yourself for the inevitable pain. Cillian began to move, his cock sliding back and forth inside you with agonizing slowness.

Each stroke sent waves of pleasure-pain coursing through your body, making you moan softly. You could feel his warm breath on your neck, and your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest. he growled in your ear, his voice low and gravelly.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're wound tighter than a spring. I can feel you clenching around me, fighting the urge to come undone."

You squirmed uneasily, your heart pounding like a war drum in your chest. "Cillian, please," you whimpered, your voice cracking like a gunshot. "Please, I can't," you moaned but he silenced you with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth, tasting of salt and sin. His cock pulsed inside you, relentless as an iron fist.

It seemed to fill you up more fully with each passing second, and the exquisite torment it inflicted upon your tender flesh drove you to distraction.

"Feel it, Y/N?" Cillian whispered, his voice husky and low. "My cock is stretching you to your limits and it feels so good. You are so tight and so warm," he groaned and you could only nod in agreement, your breaths ragged and desperate. Cillian's cock surged inside you, thrusting deeper and harder with each passing moment.

Each movement sent delicious spasms through your body, making you moan helplessly. You could feel yourself unraveling around him, losing control of your inhibitions.

"Oh, God, Cillian," you whimpered, your voice cracking with desperation. "You feel so good inside me."

Cillian's eyes gleamed with triumph, his cock swelling larger and thicker. An insatiable hunger ignited within you, driving you to claw at his shoulders and squeeze his ass tightly.

"That's a good girl," Cillian rasped, his cock pulsing intensely within you. "Taking my cock like a champ."

You could feel the walls of your pussy clenching around his invading shaft, contracting rhythmically like a vise. Each contraction brought another wave of ecstasy, as you surrendered yourself to the blissful agony consuming you.

"Oh, fuck," Cillian groaned, his cock flexing powerfully within you. "So goddamn tight," he gasped before pulling out of you abruptly. "How about you turn around for me now and get on to your hands and knees," he ordered.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding against your chest like a madman. But somehow, you trusted him. After all, he was Cillian Murphy—the man you've fantasized about for what felt like a lifetime. With a trembling hand, you slowly rotated your body until you were facing the opposite direction. You bent over, your hands supporting your weight on the couch cushions.

"Perfect," he praised. "Stay like that."

You heard him shuffling around behind you but did not pay much attention to what he was doing as, unbeknownst to you, he pulled the condom off his shaft and discarded it on the floor, wanting to fuck you bare.

He then grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you back against him. His bare shaft entered you, feeling warmer and smoother than before.

It slid effortlessly into your welcoming pussy, the sensation of his flesh against yours setting fire to your nerves.

"Something feels different," you gasped, confused, but Cillian silenced you.

"Shh," Cillian hushed you, his warm breath fanning your ear. "Everything's fine," he said before he thrust into you again, his cock sliding deeply within you with a hungry growl. The sensation of his naked cock penetrating you felt amazing for him and you, but you still did not know why it felt different then before and put it down to the change in positioning.

For Cillian, this act was raw, primal, and absolutely thrilling. The thought of having his cum inside you thrilled him even more, claiming you as his.

"God, Y/N," he gasped, his breath hot on your neck.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," he groaned and you bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan.

"Cillian," you whimpered, your voice hoarse with desire, still unaware that he was now fucking you raw. His bare cock was inside you now just as he was getting ready to cum and you knew nothing about it.

"I am close baby. So fucking close," Cillian muttered while slamming into you. Each thrust filled you with an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that left you breathless.

"Oh, God, Cillian," you moaned, your voice cracking with desperation.

You could feel the walls of your pussy clenching around his invading shaft, contracting rhythmically like a vice and, soon enough, you could not take it anymore and came undone.

You orgasmed, spasming around his cock, milking him and forcing you both to shout out in euphoria.

You felt your inner walls tighten around him, and Cillian's cock swelled, spurting hot cum deep inside you. His seed mixing with your wetness, marking you as his.

"Fuck," he groaned, his seed bursting forth, painting your insides white. You gasped in shock, your body tensing up as his semen spilled into you.

You felt the warm sticky substance trickling down your inner thighs but did not think anything of it, ignoring it in post-orgasmic bliss.

Then, after a few more thrusts, Cillian pulled out of you and collapsed beside you on the couch and, immediately, you sat up, your gaze landing on the spot where both of you had been lying.

You didn't notice it initially, but now, you couldn't help but stare at that spot while Cillian reached for a box of tissues and, without words, handing you a wad of paper towels.

"What for?" you asked, puzzled as and he gestured to your pussy, leaking his cum.

You stared at your own pussy before registering what had taken place. He had ejaculated inside you. The thought made you blush profusely but you didn't say anything.

You clean up the mess with the tissue, wiping up the remnants of his release before tossing it in the trashcan.

"Your pussy looks so good, leaking my cum," Cillian says, admiring your visibly flushed face and damp hair.

"Why did you do that?" you ask, knowing full well that he intentionally removed the condom.

"I wanted to claim you," Cillian replies, his voice deep and resonant. "I needed to show you that you belong to me; that we are meant to be together," he told you while caressing your cheek gently with his thumb. "And now you are mine," he added confidently before forcefully kissing you again, his lips crushing yours hungrily till your body weakened under his passion.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

416 notes · View notes

lostfracturess · 4 months

Text

【 ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇꜱ 】 ch. 03

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

x wc 6.9 k

x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note i hope you like slightly longer chapters, i didn't know when to stop with this one really. anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to leave your thought, i love to read them! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

"So, anyone else feeling like their brain is about to explode?" you half-joked.

Yuta looked up from his notes and nodded. "Definitely. I keep getting the side effects of beta-blockers and ACE inhibitors mixed up."

The university cafeteria buzzed with the nervous energy of students prepping for exams. You joined Toge, Yuta, and Maki at a corner table, each of you clutching a much-needed coffee. The air was thick with the scent of caffeine and the sound of pages flipping.

"Statins?" Toge muttered as he rubbed his temple.

"They're primarily for lowering cholesterol levels," Maki answered quickly.

Yuta let out a frustrated sigh. "Right, right. And anticoagulants? I still can't wrap my head around those."

You leaned forward. "Anticoagulants inhibit clotting factors in the blood. They're essential in preventing thrombosis and strokes."

Yuta gave a resigned look. "You two sound like walking textbooks. I'm sure I'll fail."

"No, Yuta, you've got this," you reassured him, though he seemed to be brainstorming backup career options already.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the cafeteria shifted as Gojo and Geto entered. It seemed like the crowd naturally parted for them, their confident strides carrying them through the sea of students. You found your gaze irresistibly drawn to them as they joined the line, chatting casually.

Gojo's eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on your group. His gaze met yours for a brief moment. Your stomach fluttered. Was it the intensity of his gaze or the fleeting memory of the dozens of painkillers in his car? Perhaps both.

Geto also turned around. He broke into a warm smile as he saw you.

Hm, at least he was not angry with you anymore.

"Looks like the big guns are here," Yuta joked under his breath, nodding toward Gojo and Geto. "Do you think they ever get exam jitters?"

"Doubt it," Toge said.

Maki rolled her eyes. "Focus, guys. We need to ace this exam."

Your group returned to your notes. Gojo and Geto picked up their coffee and found a seat not too far from yours, granting you an unobstructed view of Gojo. You tried to concentrate, but part of you remained acutely aware of his presence.

Every so often, you stole glances at him, watching how he discussed something with Geto. His muscles flexed subtly with each animated gesture he made. There was an undeniable air of confidence that radiated from him, making him stand out effortlessly in the crowd.

He was dressed in his usual white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the intriguing play of veins along his well-defined forearms. The dark blue slacks he wore were tailored to perfection.

His disheveled white hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it. You could see his jaw flexing as he articulated his points, each movement emphasizing the sharp lines of his face.

The sight was distracting, to say the least.

As you watched them, you couldn't help but think back to what Gojo had said to you in his car-how he had the audacity to accuse you of wanting to have a threesome with them. Heat rose to your cheeks.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Maki's voice pulled you back to reality.

You blinked. "Sorry, just got distracted for a moment."

Yet Gojo's presence lingered in your periphery. You stole another glance at Gojo, only to find him already looking at you. His lips curved into a faint smile.

Suddenly, you noticed that Geto's eyes were on you as well. The moment his gaze met yours, you felt caught like a deer in headlights. You quickly looked away. Geto said something to Gojo. Gojo merely shrugged, his expression unreadable, but the faintest smile played on his lips.

The rest of the time in the cafeteria passed in a blur.

While you and your friends were engrossed in a last-minute review, Gojo and Geto began gathering their things to leave. They stood up and chatted casually as they strolled towards the exit, which happened to be in your direction.

Yuta checked his watch. "Time to head out for the exam." You all started to pack up. As you rose from the table, a sudden presence brushed against your back, making you turn.

"Oh, sorry about that," Gojo said. But there was a twinkle in his eye that suggested the touch wasn't entirely accidental. Before you could react, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Good luck with the exam. Though, something tells me you won't need it."

Gojo straightened. His gaze held you captive. You watched as he and Geto made their way out, with Geto swatting Gojo on the back of his head as they left.

"You're so fucked," Maki commented dryly, catching you watching them.

─── ·✧· ───

A week had passed since the exam.

Life at the university had returned to its usual rhythm. You were in class with Toge, Maki and Yuta, the lecturer's voice a steady drone in the background as you all scribbled notes. Midway through the lecture, your phone that lay on your desk lit up with a message.

[3:32 PM] Gojo: Meet me in the lab after class.

[3:32 PM] Gojo: Btw, you passed your exam. Congrats. Got a little gift for you too.

You stared at the message, puzzled. It was unusual for professors to have exam results ready just a week after. How did Gojo know?

[3:33 PM] You: What gift?

[3:33 PM] Gojo: It's a surprise. Why spoil it now? Come and see.

[3:33 PM] You: What about my friends Okkotsu, Zenin and Inumaki? Did they pass too?

[3:34 PM] Gojo: Can't say. I may have obtained your exam result in an unethical way.

[3:34 PM] You: Oh, too bad. Guess I must skip the lab today then.

[3:34 PM] Gojo: Are you fucking with me?

You didn't reply to that.

After all, he wasn't the only one capable of playing games. You set your phone down, a slight smile on your lips as you turned your attention back to the lecture.

[3:52 PM] Gojo: They also passed.

[3:52 PM] You: Great. See you in the lab.

You turned to your friends. "We all passed the exam," you announced in a hushed tone.

Maki's eyes widened. "Seriously? How do you know that already?"

"Unethical ways."

Yuta let out a deep sigh. "Shit, that's some great news," he murmured, his usual worry lines smoothing out.

Toge nodded with a satisfied sound.

Suddenly the professor, who had been lecturing about biochemistry, paused and glanced sternly in your direction. "If we could have less chatter and more focus, please."

Your group quickly composed themselves and turned their attention back to the lecture. Yuta shot you a last smile.

As the lecture came to a close, you and your friends gathered your belongings and made your way out of the auditorium. The hallway outside was bustling with students discussing the lecture and making plans for the rest of the day.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am. I was sure I botched the beta-blocker section," Yuta said as you walked.

You suddenly spotted Gojo casually leaning against a wall across from you, his arms crossed over his chest. His piercing gaze instantly locked onto you as you exited the auditorium. He tapped his fingers on his folded arms.

As your group began to drift towards the exit, you halted in your tracks. "You guys go ahead. I've got something to take care of after class."

"Alright, catch you tomorrow then," Yuta replied, clapping you on the shoulder.

You lingered in the hallway, waiting for the last students to leave. The corridor quieted, leaving you and Gojo alone. His intense gaze never wavered. He pushed himself away from the wall and strolled over to you.

"You've got quite the nerve, first-year," Gojo remarked.

You met his gaze squarely. "I could say the same about you, professor. Perhaps we should be more careful about being seen together outside the lab."

Gojo flashed a mischievous smile. "Concerned about starting rumors?"

"It's your reputation on the line, not mine."

"Ouch," he said, putting a hand over his heart in mock offense. "And here I am, offering to escort you. That's quite gentlemanly, don't you think? Even after you managed to rile me up."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of walking myself."

He leaned closer. "I know, perhaps I just want to spend more time with you." He started to walk towards the lab. "Come, I have something to show you. Something tells me you'll love it."

─── ·✧· ───

Once inside the lab, Gojo led you to a table where a mysterious box lay hidden under a cloth. With a dramatic gesture, he pulled away the cover, revealing what he had teased as a 'gift'.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight. "A brain?" you said, then turned to Gojo. "You have quite a unique way of pleasing a woman."

Gojo's smile broadened. "It's a human brain, specifically for us to practice on. I figured some hands-on training might be beneficial for the surgery, so I got us a few. It's a first for me too, so I thought, why not be thorough?"

You stepped closer to the table and peered at the brain encased in its protective glass. You grabbed the preserved organ and held it up, mesmerized by the sight.

Gojo watched your reaction. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is." You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away. "Where did you get them?"

"Let's just say I had to pull some strings. Rest assured, they're from deceased donors, ethically sourced, of course."

"I know you've been worried about making another mistake in surgery," he said, his voice softening. "So, I figured the best way to prepare us is with hands-on practice."

You turned to face him.

"We'll use these brains to meticulously go through each step of the procedure," he continued. "It's the closest we can get to the real experience. Practicing on actual human tissue like this will provide a depth of understanding that no model can match. By the end, you'll be thoroughly prepared for the surgery."

You placed the brain back on the table. "You did this for me?"

"I would do anything for you." Gojo closed the distance between you. He stood unusually close, his presence almost enveloping you. He leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the table on either side of you, holding you captive between his arms.

Your back hit the edge of the table. You leaned back, trying to regain some distance. "What are you doing?"

He held your gaze, a hint of playfulness returning to his voice. "But just so you know, I have my ways of pleasing a woman. And not just by gifting her a human brain."

You leaned back even more. "Is that so?"

However, the distance was quickly closed by Gojo as he leaned in even closer. His breath warm and close, his lips almost grazing yours. "Absolutely," he murmured. "I'd be more than willing to demonstrate, if you're interested."

You raised an eyebrow, your heart racing. "Forward as always, Gojo."

Suddenly, in one swift motion, he reached out. His hands grasped the back of your thighs. Before you could react, you found yourself falling back onto the table. Your breath hitched. Gojo leaned over you, his blue eyes intense and piercing.

"You have no idea," he murmured, his voice deep and resonant. "If you weren't my student, I'd have already shown you just how forward I can be." His words were laced with an implication that sent a thrill through you. "'Be sure, I am a patient man, but even I have my limits."

His hand traced a path along the back of your thigh, the other firmly planted on the table above your head. Trapped in his gaze, you were acutely aware of every point of contact, the heat emanating from his body, and the undeniable pull you felt towards him.

"Maybe you should consider not seducing your student, then," you countered, your voice faltering slightly, betraying the effect he had on you. Your body seemed to act on its own accord, your legs instinctively drawing closer to him, as he stood between your parted legs.

"You could tell me to stop at any moment, yet you haven't," he said. "Interesting, isn't it? It's almost as if you're as curious as I am about where this might lead."

His face drew nearer, the space between you shrinking with each passing moment. Your breaths mingled. Your hand wandered to his arm, grabbing onto him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt.

Your body craved his touch, despite the rational part of your mind screaming caution. But in that moment, it was impossible to resist the magnetic pull that drew you closer to him. You found yourself inching closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

His gaze held you captive, and you felt as though he had the power to steal your very breath with a simple look.

Oh god.

If anyone were to walk into the lab now, there would be no plausible explanation for this compromising position.

His breath was warm on your skin, tantalizingly close to your collarbone. "But don't worry, first-year. I do love a good challenge. Especially one as intriguing as you."

His body pressed against your open legs. In this position you could clearly feel the stretch in his pants. Your core melted. "There's just something about the way you resist, yet-not quite."

His hand ventured to the inside of your thigh. His fingers traced a path along your skin, edging daringly close. You arched into his touch. His lips caressed your collarbone, his touch light as a feather. The anticipation was nearly unbearable, a delicious torture that held you in its grip.

"Even though your body betrays you every single time," he said before tightening his grip on your thigh. He pressed closer to you, the unmistakable hardness of his erection grinding against you.

A moan escaped your lips and you could feel him smile against your skin. He lifts his head just enough to peer into your eyes. "Oh sweetheart, I'm dying to hear you moan my name."

Just as Gojo's fingers came dangerously close to brushing the sensitive area between your legs, he withdrew abruptly, leaving a void where his warmth had been. He straightened, a semblance of control returning to his expression. "Perhaps it's time we should get to work, don't you think?"

Was he for real?

You lay there for a moment, panting heavily. Pulling yourself up to your elbows, you managed a breathless, "What?"

Gojo, now a few steps away, nonchalantly adjusted his pants, something inside of them clearly troubling him. "We have a surgery to prepare for, remember?"

He said that as if he hadn't just nearly fucked you on the lab table.

You sit up completely. "I hate you."

Gojo chuckled. "You're so easy to play with, first-year," he remarked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Consider it payback for making me 'borrow' your friends' exam results from my colleague's laptop."

You watched him for a moment, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. The way he could shift so effortlessly from intense intimacy to professional demeanor was both infuriating and intriguing.

With a groan, you let yourself fall back onto the desk and stared up at the ceiling. As you lay there, you heard Gojo walk away, his footsteps echoing through the lab. "Leaving already, Gojo? Need a quick break to blow off some steam?"

Gojo returned a moment later with a tray of surgical tools. He shot you a sly grin. "Why? Interested in watching?"

"Keep dreaming."

Gojo laughed. "You're quite amusing, first-year. We both know you'll surrender sooner or later. But don't worry, I can wait."

He began meticulously arranging the surgical tools, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. "Ready to begin?" he asked, glancing over at you.

You nodded.

─── ·✧· ───

In the following weeks, your routine consisted of meeting in the lab every day after class to prepare for the surgery.

The sessions were rigorous. Gojo's dedication to perfection and precision became more apparent with each passing day. He was a taskmaster in the truest sense, his expectations high and his attention to detail almost obsessive.

You thought Geto was strict, but Gojo operated on an entirely different level. His standards were exacting. He accepted nothing less than absolute precision. Every incision, every maneuver you practiced under his watchful eyes had to be flawless.

Maybe he was a maniac.

He sure was a maniac.

It was late.

You were hungry and tired.

However, once more, you and Gojo stood side by side to rehearse the procedure yet again.

"Now, stabilize the area while I insert the implant," Gojo instructed. You reached for the micro-surgical tool on the nearby desk and followed his directions precisely, maintaining a calm and steady breath to steady your hands.

Gojo led the way with inhuman precision. You mirrored his movements flawlessly. "Gently retract the meningeal layer," he guided. "Perfect, now hold it steady."

As the hours ticked away, you repeated the procedure over and over. With each repetition, you drew closer to seamless synchronization, your actions becoming increasingly fluid and intuitive.

"Stay concentrated, we're almost there."

You slowed your breathing. "Inserting the implant now," Gojo said. Your eyes followed Gojo's hands as they maneuvered the tiny neuroimplant. "Hold steady," he murmured. "Slight adjustment to the left, that's it."

It was then that you noticed the slight trembling of his hands. In the blink of an eye, the tool in his hand slipped ever so slightly, causing a visible tear in the brain tissue.

"Damn it," Gojo muttered. "I'm sorry. Let's reset and try again."

The second attempt began much like the first, perfectly in sync. You both worked in silence. The only sound your synchronized breathing and the steady hum of the overhead lights.

But the second attempt didn't go as planned either. A small but significant misstep by Gojo resulted in further damage to the fragile brain. After the third failed attempt, Gojo took a step back from the table. His hands trembled.

"Fuck," Gojo hissed again, tearing off his gloves. He ran his fingers through his hair.

You set the instruments back on the table. "What's wrong? You good?"

It was unusual. He never made such mistakes. He always had the most steady hands, so why was he struggling with every attempt now?

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need a break," he said, frustration etching lines on his forehead. He walked over to a nearby bench, where a forgotten cup of coffee rested. He picked it up with a shaking hand. You observed him closely.

"Gojo, your hands..."

"I'm fine."

Oh, he was so clearly lying.

You walked over to him. "Don't tell me shit, what's going-?"

But before the words fully escaped your lips, Gojo's hand cramped. In an instant, the porcelain succumbed, shattering in his clenched fist. Coffee spilled over the bench in a dark, staining flood. A sharp curse escaped him as he released the jagged remains of the cup.

You bridged the distance between you. "God, Gojo," you exclaimed, quickly clasping his injured hand. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing."

"Yeah, keep lying to me," you retorted, locking eyes with him. "Sit down."

"It's merely a scratch."

"Just sit down, Gojo. Let me take a look at your hand."

With a sigh, he sank into the chair, watching you as you gathered the medical supplies.

"Fortunate it's your left hand," you remarked, pulling up a chair to sit beside him. You cradled his hand in your lap. Porcelain shards were buried in his palm and fingers, blood began to pool around the punctures. "Looks like you'll need a few stitches."

"I'm not sure I should trust someone to stitch me up who struggles to even find a vein," he quipped. "You know, this is a surgeon's hand."

His attempt at humor fell flat. You were not in the mood for jokes. He flinched when you started to remove the porcelain fragments with tweezers.

"Don't worry. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's stitching up wounds," you said quietly.

You meticulously removed each fragment. The room was silent, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of tools. After ensuring no debris remained, you cleansed the wounds.

Unfolding a suture kit, you glanced at Gojo. "This might sting," you cautioned, beginning to stitch the deeper gashes.

Gojo's jaw clenched. He remained silent, his eyes following your every move. After a while, he spoke, breaking the quiet. "You're pretty good at this. How did you learn to stitch so well?"

Your hands paused briefly, surprised by the question. "I mentioned my mother wasn't the same after my father's death. That's how I learned it."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his gaze shifting away.

You completed the last stitch and bandaged his hand carefully. "There, all done." Standing up, you began to clean the area. Gojo flexed his fingers, testing the mobility.

"Thank you," he said. "It's really good."

Without facing him, you asked, "You won't tell me what's wrong, will you?"

His silence was your answer.

A sigh escaped you. Gojo then stood, breaking the momentary stillness. "I need to grab something from my office. I'll be back soon," he said, his tone somewhat distant.

You nodded and watched as he left the lab. The door clicked shut, its sound echoing faintly in the now empty space. The quiet hum of the lab enveloped you.

Time ticked by, and the lab's clock hands moved steadily forward. The quiet was pervasive, broken only by the occasional sounds of the building settling for the night. You glanced occasionally at the door, expecting Gojo to return, but there was no sign of him.

He did not return to the lab that night.

And he was not in the lab the next day.

─── ·✧· ───

"Can you imagine having surgery with these?"

Yuta joked, pointing at a set of rusty scalpels. His face scrunched up in mock horror.

Maki laughed. "I'd rather not. Makes me appreciate modern anesthesia."

Toge added a quick quip, "Unbelievable."

You and your friends decided to visit the local museum. Today, it was hosting a special medical exhibit, which naturally piqued your interest. The warm sunlight filtered through the museum's large windows, casting a golden glow over the exhibits.

As you walked through the halls, the exhibit unfolded in a series of medical histories and advances. There were sections dedicated to ancient medical practices, rows of archaic surgical tools that seemed more like medieval torture devices, and interactive displays on modern surgical techniques.

Amidst the array of exhibits, one particular section caught your eye. To the casual visitor, the subject matter might seem unappealing, but you found it absolutely fascinating.

You excused yourself from your friends and approached the exhibit. It was a quiet corner of the museum, away from the more popular attractions.

You were so engrossed in reading a panel that you hardly noticed the approach of another visitor. It wasn't until you heard a familiar voice nearby. Your heart froze for a moment.

"I knew you'd be drawn to this," Gojo remarked, his presence suddenly beside you. He was observing the same exhibit, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Stalking me again, professor?"

"Purely coincidental, I assure you. I couldn't pass up this exhibition. Turns out, today's the only chance to see it."

You turned to face him. "You've got some nerve, Gojo. You left me alone in the lab, disappeared without a word, and then ignored all my messages. You can't just act like nothing happened."

His face softened. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to hurt you."

"If something's wrong, you need to tell me. This isn't just your project, Gojo. It's still Geto's project too. Your actions will not only affect me, but him as well."

"You're right."

Exhaling sharply, turning your attention back to the exhibit.

After a moment of silence, Gojo spoke again. "What are you doing afterwards?"

You turned slightly. "Hm?"

"Go out with me."

His invitation hung in the air between you, leaving you momentarily speechless. You turned to him, searching his expression for clues. "Go out... as in a date?"

"Call it whatever you want," he said. "I just want to spend time with you."

"This will only lead to trouble, you know that."

Undeterred, he stepped closer. His bandaged hand gently lifted your chin, urging you to meet his gaze. His height forced you to tilt your head back.

"I'm aware of that," he said. "But I don't care. I can't ignore this any longer... whatever this is between us. And I don't think you can either."

"Give me a chance," he implored, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that felt almost tangible. "One evening. That's all I'm asking."

Time seemed to stretch out as you mulled over his request. "One evening?"

"One evening."

"Okay, one evening," you agreed.

A subtle smile played on Gojo's lips. "I'll wait for you outside."

Then he leaned in, as if to steal a kiss. But the sound of approaching footsteps quickly halted him. He withdrew his hand, leaving a trace of warmth where his touch had been.

"Talk about a small world," Yuta exclaimed, his eyes landing on you and Gojo, who was already keeping a professional distance.

Maki approached Gojo with a friendly greeting. "Quite a surprise seeing you here, professor."

Gojo responded with his usual charm. "Ah, the future of medicine, all gathered in one spot. Seems I'm not the only one drawn to this exhibition."

"I hope you're not here to quiz us, Dr. Gojo. We've had our fill of exams for a while," Maki said.

"I wouldn't dream of torturing my students outside of class."

Toge muttered something under his breath, earning a playful nudge from Yuta. "Don't jinx it," Yuta whispered.

The group moved through the exhibition together, with Gojo occasionally offering insightful comments. Eventually, he parted ways with you and your friends. He cast one last glance in your direction before saying goodbye.

As you and your friends continued exploring the museum, Maki nudged you playfully. "It's funny how Dr. Handsome always seems to be around you, isn't it?"

"It's just a strange coincidence."

"Yeah, sure."

You rolled your eyes.

The rest of the museum visit passed in a light-hearted mood, with occasional teasing from Maki about Gojo. The sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful golden hue over the city streets as you made your way out.

"Oh, wait," you said suddenly, patting your pockets as if searching for something. "I think I left something back in the museum. You guys go ahead; I'll catch up."

Yuta looked concerned. "Do you need someone to go back with you?"

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I won't be long. Don't miss the train on my account."

After a moment of hesitation, your friends agreed and continued towards the subway station. You waited until they were out of sight, then went back to the museums's entrance.

"Hey, first-year."

Gojo's voice came from behind, startling you slightly. You turned to find him approaching with two cups of coffee in hand, steam rising into the evening air. His face lit up with a smile as he saw you waiting.

He handed you one of the cups. "Thought you might like some coffee. Just regular, though-no Red Bull mixed in, sorry," he said, a playful tone in his voice.

"How disappointing."

"Shall we go for a walk?"

You nodded.

The bustling sounds of the city surrounded you, the sky painted in vibrant oranges and pinks by the setting sun. The streets pulsed with the city's evening energy. Walking alongside Gojo, you sipped the warm coffee.

"Aren't you afraid of someone seeing us?" you asked, glancing around subtly.

"Are you?"

"It's not like we're making out or anything," he added. "Unless you'd like to?"

"Don't push it, Gojo."

Your gaze fell on his bandaged hand. "How's your hand, by the way?"

He switched the cup to his other hand and flexed the injured one. "It's healing well. Thankfully, a really skilled surgeon took care of it."

You rolled your eyes.

"Are you nervous about the upcoming surgery?" he asked.

"I am," you confessed. "You never seem to get nervous."

"Well, that's because I'm an exceptional neurosurgeon."

"Ah, sure, I forgot. You're the miracle doctor."

"Not really," he said. "I mean, I've always had a knack for it, but university wasn't always easy. It took a lot of effort to get to where I am now. Just like you. We're not that different, you know."

You observed him for a moment before asking, "Why neurosurgery?"

"Could ask you the same. What made you choose neurosurgery?"

"Why would I choose any another field when neurology exists?"

He chuckled. "Thought so."

"Plus, the patients are usually sedated, so that's a plus for surgery," you added.

"Ah, the mark of a true neurosurgeon's ego."

The evening had deepened, and a chill began to settle in the air as you and Gojo walked through the city streets. The vibrant energy of the day had given way to the serene calmness of the night.

Streetlights cast a soft glow on the pavement, and the occasional sound of distant laughter and the hum of a passing car filled the air.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as a cool breeze seeped through your clothes. Without a moment's hesitation, Gojo halted and began to take off his jacket. "Here, wear this," he offered, draping it over your shoulders.

"But won't you be cold?" you asked, concerned as he would be left in just his shirt.

He simply smiled. "I'll be fine."

You slipped into his jacket, the sleeves oddly long on your arms. It was warm and carried the faint scent of his cologne.

Gojo seemed unfazed by the drop in temperature as he watched you. He raised his hand to your face and ran his thumb gently over your cheek. His gaze fell to your lips. The bustling city street seemed to fade into the background as Gojo's proximity enveloped you.

People passed by, a sea of faces lost in their own worlds, their voices fading to a distant hum as you and Gojo stood in your own intimate world. His thumb brushed over your lips, parting them slightly.

"Tell me, do you ever wonder what it would be like if we gave in?"

"For someone who says he's patient, you're really pushing it, Gojo."

Gojo's eyes darkened. His gaze locked onto your lips as he leaned in just a fraction closer. The world around you blurred, the bustling street becoming nothing more than a distant backdrop.

Gojo's lips curled into a seductive smile. "Maybe you're just too irresistible."

"Or maybe you only want me because you can't have me."

"Whatever the reason, first-year. The important thing is that we both want it."

The chemistry between you two was undeniable, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment. You leaned in closer, your lips tantalizingly close to his. "And what do you want, professor?" you whispered.

You both knew the risks, the lines that shouldn't be crossed, but in that charged moment, it was so damn hard to resist. Every inch of your body craved for his touch.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer, eliminating any space between you. "I want to taste those lips of yours, to feel your body pressed against mine."

You breathed in each other's air as his parted lips hovered dangerously close to yours, yet not making contact. "I want to hear you scream my name," he whispered as he pulled you even closer with a sudden tug. His fingers dug into your back in a way that was almost painful. "Hear your soft pleas all night long."

Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires.

Without a second thought, Gojo turned you around, using his own body to shield you from the street. Not far from where you stood, a horrific car crash had unfolded. One of the vehicles went airborne before crashing onto its roof with a sickening thud.

For a moment, you both stood frozen, processing what had just happened. People began screaming and gathering around the site of the accident. Without having to exchange a word, you and Gojo sprang into action, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Gojo sprinted towards the mangled car, while you rushed to help the other vehicle.

As you reached the car, you saw the driver still inside, his head resting against the inflated airbag. You pushed open the driver's door. The man lifted his head slightly, blood dripping from a gash on his temple.

"We're here to help," you said. "Can you tell me your name?"

The driver mumbled something incoherent, his eyes struggling to focus. You carefully assessed the driver's condition, checking for any obvious signs of injury. His airway appeared to be clear, and he was breathing, albeit shallowly.

You continued to talk to the driver, trying to keep him conscious and engaged. "You've been in an accident, but we're going to get you out of here safely. Can you tell me if you're experiencing any pain?"

He didn't respond. You gently touched his head to tilt it towards you. You probed around the wound on his temple, checking for any underlying skull fractures or deformities.

"Do you know where you are? Can you tell me what happened?" you asked, trying to gauge his cognitive function. The man tried to speak, but nothing intelligible came out. His speech was slurred, and he seemed to be losing focus.

Then you heard a strained sound that resembled Gojo's voice. Looking up, you saw Gojo straining against the wreckage of the other car, trying to free the trapped driver. A nearby bystander was helping him.

You turned back to the driver in front of you. "Please stay still and try not to move until help arrives, okay?"

You went to a nearby bystander and instructed him to go to the driver and keep him still and engaged in speech. You hurried over to Gojo. He carefully pulled the woman out of the mangled car and laid her gently on the asphalt. Gojo hovered over her, checking her vitals.

"She's barely breathing." He leaned in to listen to her labored breaths. "She needs an emergency tracheotomy, now."

"What?"

Your heart raced at the thought. There's no way you could do that here.

"Your jacket pocket, the right one," he instructed urgently.

Still wearing his jacket, you quickly reached into the right pocket. Your fingers found something, and you retrieved it. It was a sealed straw from the coffee Gojo had bought earlier. You handed it to him without a word.

"Now, the inner pocket on your left."

Reaching into the inner pocket, your fingers found a small, elongated case. "What's that?" you asked as you handed it over to him.

He opened the case, revealing a scalpel.

"You keep a scalpel with you all the time?" you exclaimed.

He briefly looked up at you with a sly smile. "Quite handy right now, don't you think?"

Without wasting a second, Gojo made a small incision in the driver's throat, skillfully inserting the straw to create an airway. It was unorthodox, to say the least.

Just then, you noticed a trickle of blood seeping through the sleeve of his shirt. "You're bleeding," you said. He must have injured himself on the jagged metal while freeing the woman from the crashed car.

Gojo glanced down at his arm. "It's nothing."

The wail of the sirens grew louder as the paramedics arrived, quickly taking control of the situation. Gojo immediately began briefing them on the condition of the injured.

"I'll go with them to the hospital," he said, preparing to accompany the paramedics. But as he turned to leave, you grabbed his shirt.

"I'm coming with you."

"You should go home, get some rest."

"You wanted to spend time with me, so spend time with me, Gojo." You looked at him. "You wanted a whole evening, and it's not midnight yet."

He pondered for a moment. "Then come."

Climbing into the ambulance, you found yourself in the midst of medical equipment and the paramedics as they worked to stabilize the driver during the transport. The confined space was filled with the sound of medical equipment and hushed, urgent conversations.

Gojo relayed the details of the incident to the team. It seemed as if he knew them, as he addressed them by name.

As you glanced at Gojo's arm, the bloodstain on his shirt was growing. You turned to one of the paramedics. "I need antiseptic and gauze."

The paramedic seemed a little taken aback by your firm tone.

"Now," you clarified.

"Uh, right here," he replied, pointing toward a nearby drawer.

"What are you doing?" Gojo asked as you moved around the ambulance like you owned the place.

You sat down beside him and seized his arm, rolling up his sleeve. His firm skin felt hot under your touch as you cleaned his wound. "You really are my personal doctor, aren't you?" he remarked, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"You should just take better care of yourself."

His eyes locked onto yours. "I guess I do need someone to watch out for me. Also, with your perfect stitching skills, I'd never let anyone else touch me."

You huffed.

"Quite a first date, huh?" you quipped as you continued tending to his arm.

"So it is a date?"

"In your dreams, Gojo."

Then the ambulance arrived at the hospital.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the atmosphere was a flurry of activity as medical professionals worked diligently to care for the injured. Gojo quickly turned to you.

"Wait for me in my office," he instructed, handing you a set of keys. "I need to assist here and finish the necessary paperwork. I shouldn't be long."

You nodded. Before you could react, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, without another word, he left. Your heart raced.

Clutching the keys, you made your way through the corridors of the hospital, searching for Gojo's office number, which was written on the keys. The adrenaline that had fueled your body slowly faded, leaving a trail of exhaustion in its wake.

Entering his office, you were greeted by bookshelves lining one wall, filled with medical texts and various journals, while a desk cluttered with papers and a laptop occupied another corner. The room looked quite different from his office at the university. Still, it had a warmth to it.

It even had his scent.

You looked down at your clothes, stained and dishevelled from the night's chaos. You rummaged through Gojo's belongings and found what looked like a gym bag. Inside, you found a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants. They were undoubtedly his, large and probably loose on you, but they were clean.

He wouldn't mind, would he?

You looked down on yourself again.

Yeah, whatever-even if he mind.

It felt strange to change into his clothes, but at the same time oddly comforting as you noticed his faint scent on them. You sank into the couch in his office, the events of the night replaying in your mind. The room was quiet, except for the distant sounds of the hospital at night.

You gazed up at the ceiling, then turned on your side and closed your eyes. Exhaustion gradually overcame you until sleep began to claim you.

Sometime later, the sound of the door gently opening stirred you from your sleep. Through half-closed eyes, you saw Gojo enter the room. He paused for a moment at the sight of you sleeping on his couch, a soft expression crossing his face.

"Gojo?" you murmured, your voice still heavy with sleep.

He moved quietly toward you, dropping to his knees before the couch. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," you replied, still wrapped in the warmth of his clothes. "How are the drivers?"

"They're stable. Don't worry."

Then he stood up again and moved to lie down on the couch behind you. You shifted slightly to give him more space, feeling his presence close to you. "How's your arm?" you asked him. Gojo settled down on the couch behind you, a soft sigh escaping him as he found a comfortable position.

"My arm's fine," he reassured you with a soft smile. "Thanks to you."

You turned onto your back, your eyes meeting his as he propped himself up on one elbow. His face hovered close to yours. "They look good on you." His hand reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "My clothes," he added.

"Sorry, I just wanted to get out of my dirty clothes."

"I don't mind."

A smile played at the corners of his lips. "You should've seen yourself out there," he said. "You really bossed those paramedics around. I'm sure they'll remember you."

"Well, if you keep hurting yourself, guess I'll have to keep patching you up."

Gojo's laughter filled the room, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled at you. "You can stitch me up anytime, doc."

"You better not make a habit out of this."

He chuckled softly, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder. "I'll try my best."

Lying there, side by side, you both gazed into each other's eyes. The room was filled with the soft light of the moon outside, casting gentle shadows across his face. Silence settled between you, the only sounds in the room were the soft breaths you both took.

"We do make a good team, don't we?" Gojo's voice broke the silence. "And I'm not just talking about in the OR."

"Are you implying something?"

"Nah, never."

As you let out a yawn, Gojo adjusted his position, lying down beside you. "Come here," he said softly. His arm encircled your shoulder, drawing you close to him.

Instinctively, you nestled into him, your head finding a comfortable spot against his chest. His heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your ear.

The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath, brought a sense of safety and calm. You could feel the tension of the day slowly ebbing away. His fingers trailed lightly across your back, drawing absent patterns.

"You know, this is quite close for a student and a professor," you muffled against his chest.

"Is it? Should I go?"

Your fingers gripped his shirt, holding him in place. "No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't go."

A smile played on his lips. "I'm not leaving you," he whispered. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, he cuddled closer, the distance between you seeming to disappear.

Gradually, sleep began to claim you both. You drifted off, entwined in each other's arm. The office was quiet, save for the soft sound of your synchronized breathing and the faint, distant echoes of the hospital's nocturnal life.

Tomorrow, maybe, you would care about the consequences.

But not today. Not in his arms.

─── ·✧· ───

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

x a/n: i hope you like slightly longer chapters, i didn't know when to stop with this one really. anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to leave your thought, i love to read them! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved

#gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x female reader #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut

423 notes · View notes