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#the added last part is the original ending
jeneveuxrein · 1 day
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attention (TWICE Nayeon)
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word count: 6.1K
(she's been on my radar since the killing voice medley, and well, yeah, enjoy!)
-- -- -- 
You’re seething, forcing the amber liquid down, watching the people mingle. You should introduce yourself to some because networking at events like this always gives you the chance to meet the next up and coming. 
But not tonight. 
You don’t even want to be here. You weren’t on the original guest list, but with last minute changes and someone’s wife suddenly going into labor, your boss forced you to attend. 
Maybe the proper term is chaperone. 
All you wanted to do tonight was spend some time with this woman you’ve been casually seeing. Nothing serious, nothing committal, just dinner and drinks that had the potential of ending together in a bed. You had been dragging it out, and you think it’s warranted. She makes it obvious she’s interested.
But with how this evening was looking, you’ll be spending the night with someone else. 
That someone is across the room, draped over some man you’re more than likely going to have to do damage control. She’s an idol after all, and rumors will spread like a wildfire about her being linked to someone who’s nowhere near her caliber. 
She catches you staring, sending a sly smirk as she leans into whatever-his-face is saying. A little too close for the company’s taste and a shit ton too much for your sake.
“Dear fuck,” You mumble, shaking your head before standing. 
You don’t know what compels you to walk through the crowd, nodding politely at those that wave, but there you are, less than a meter away from where she’s seated. 
“Nayeon,” You say coolly. The man quickly separates himself, going as far away from the woman in question. “Time to go. You have an early day tomorrow.”
Nayeon tilts her head, a questioning glint in her eye because she, out of all of the members, knows her schedule. She has nothing for tomorrow, except maybe rest and recovery because this is her fault you’re here. 
Well, maybe you should backtrack. It’s technically your fault because if you hadn’t mentioned to Sana and Momo the plans you originally had, you wouldn’t be at some event against your will. It was an innocent question on how you were going to spend the weekend, the only mistake was that you said too much that they went running to their unnie. 
“Okay,” Nayeon says slowly, standing before bidding farewell to the people at the table. You wait for her, obviously, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. “Shall we?” She asks as she turns to face you. 
You nod, stepping side before bowing politely. You’ll have to send a message to the media team to stop any photos releasing of Nayeon and the man, but that could wait. There were more pressing matters that needed your attention. 
It isn’t until you’re inside your car that she says something that ticks you off, “So no date with Suji-unnie tonight?”
You shake your head, composing yourself because it’s a question she knows the answer to. “Nope, duty calls. Had to be here.”
“How unfortunate,” Nayeon says casually as if she had no part in how your night turned out, slouching in the passenger seat as you shift the car into drive. “Yours or mine? ” She asks, looking out the window. Adding, “Momo’s in Japan.”
“Mine,” You answer simply, turning onto the street. 
-- -- 
You should’ve seen it coming, but you let it happen. 
The company and management would have you barred from working with anyone in the industry if they ever found out. You reasoned that was why by the time things unfolded, it was out of your control. 
How it started was subtle, nothing too out of the ordinary to draw attention to her mostly. She flirted with you, commenting on your outfits about how it looked good on you and you, being you, would return the sentiment. It wasn’t anything explicit, just a polite acknowledgement of her looking great, something she heard daily from the girls and other people on the team. 
She lingered to walk with you whether it was crowded or not, it didn’t matter. She was right by your side, and the times where fans were around, she’d be especially close that you had no other choice to wrap your arm around her, shielding her from people who desperately wanted her attention. You missed the snickers from the girls, rolling their eyes because they knew what she was up to, while you were just doing your job. 
Then she texted you on free days, asking if you wanted to do something. Anything from getting food at hole-in-the-wall restaurants she learned about from Chaeyoung to intimate concerts of artists in the industry. You tried to decline, advising her to go with one of the female managers so it wouldn’t look suspicious to the public eye, but she was adamant about going with you. Some of the girls would join from time to time, but the majority of the time, it was just you two.
Again, you thought nothing of it. You were the closest to her, so no one batted an eye when she put in the group chat when something was planned. 
That was just how your relationship was with her for five years since the group debuted. 
Until one night.
You were working late, going over the travel plans for the girls’ encore tour, tucked away in your office. A short four-city stint in the United States that would be a bit of a hustle for them, but you knew they could do it. 
There were a soft two knocks, scaring you because you thought everyone had already left. You remembered the way you said come in, raspy and tired, when the door opened slightly, the half of Nayeon’s face peeking through the crevice. 
You smiled immediately, sitting straight, nodding as she stepped inside. You took note of her outfit. Something comfortable since they had dance rehearsals for the better part of the day, dark sweats and a heather grey cropped hoodie that showed a sliver of her skin, peeking from underneath. 
You watched Nayeon grow into a beautiful woman. Sexy too, but you slapped yourself every single time you thought of her like that. There had to be some professional line drawn somewhere. Although it seemed that metaphorical line had been blurred, crossed, over the past few months. 
She was more affectionate, playing with your fingers in the car, gently touching your arm wherever you walked. She pressed into your side more, even when there were no people around. She hugged you a bit longer than the others, not like you were counting the seconds. 
You stood to meet her on the couch, asking if she was alright since she was vocal earlier in the day she wanted to go home to sleep. She explained that she had finished practicing with the dance instructor. You admired how hard she worked, which for what it was worth, you thought she did well during rehearsals. 
“And I saw your office light on as I was leaving, thought I’d say goodbye,” Nayeon rested her head on your outstretched arm. It wasn’t out of the norm, something she did quite frequently in front of everyone. 
“You should rest,” You urged, softly squeezing her shoulder as she snuggled into you. “You did great today.”
Nayeon looked up at you, gaze briefly shifting to your lips before meeting your eyes, “Really?” 
You hadn’t realized it before, but as she stared at you, you could see how much she needed the affirmation, the reassurance, the praise, from you. 
You cleared your throat, looking away because it suddenly felt hot in your office. With Nayeon this close, her perfume faint, it had you dizzy. You mumbled a shy yeah. 
You knew the moment her hand touched your thigh, it was over. Everything you worked for, investing time and resources to make sure the girls you managed were successful, would be tossed down the drain because the undeniable tension that had been building over the past however long at this point broke.
The thing was, you didn’t know about it until that moment. 
You weren’t sure who kissed who first, and it didn’t matter. All you knew was she was on top, your arms pulling her closer as your lips met in a heated kiss, swallowing each other’s moans. 
Something clicked inside of you, like this was always supposed to happen. Every message, every call, every playful push, every stolen glance, every single thing led to this. 
“Nayeon,” You tore yourself apart, hyper aware of the small whine leaving her mouth as you tried to get some grip on the situation. “What’re we doing? We can’t do this.” 
Her eyes narrowed, glaring, and you knew that whatever resolve you had would be taken from you by her whether you liked it or not. She was never one to be challenged, always exceeding whatever expectation was placed on her. 
“And why not?” Her voice was steady, but her body was not. She dropped to her knees in between your legs. All the thoughts you pushed deep down inside you came rushing to the surface, dismantling the walls you put up for her to break it so easily. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” Her hands were on the waistband of your slacks, trailing along, stopping when she reached the button. 
You didn’t have the words, no sentence to form as she slowly, oh so slowly, pulled the zipper down. You nearly choked once she placed her hand over your cock, palming with the softest pressure. 
“Your body seems to think so,” She teased, slipping her hand underneath the fabric, wrapping around your cock. 
That very thin thread of control you snapped, leaning forward to pull back onto your lap. “That’s a lot to assume,” You quipped, hands gripping her waist firmly. 
“Really?” She rolled her hips over you, catching the smirk on her face as your eyes closed. “I think that you’ve always wanted me as much as I wanted you, which I—”
Impulsively, you brought your lips to hers, a searing kiss that she met with the same enthusiasm. You murmured a shut up before nipping her bottom lip, sucking lightly that her body shuddered against you. 
You didn’t remember much else from that night. 
That was a lie because that was the night she confessed it all. It didn’t help that she somehow slipped all her clothes off and she sunk your cock inside one smooth motion, testing your control once again because you could’ve exploded the moment you felt her warmth wrapped around you.
You remembered it vividly, clearly, as you watched her move on top of you. It was slow, intentional with every drop of her body, like she was showing you what you had been missing. It was hot, tight, and you couldn’t stop the whimper out of your mouth when she started whispering things—nasty, filthy things that you would have never guessed were in her vocabulary. 
Nayeon bit your ear lobe, murmuring how good you felt, how she got so wet whenever she saw you. The soft moan she let out. The dazed, lust-filled expression with each roll of her hips. You couldn’t stop the noises you made, the groans, the grunts, the fuck every time her pussy tightened. 
There was a brief sense of clarity when your stomach tightened, signaling you were close. You couldn’t exactly cum inside her because one, you stupidly (blindly) forgot to put a condom on, and two, you didn’t keep track of her health records (that wasn’t one of your responsibilities among everything else), so getting an idol pregnant wasn’t exactly on your list. 
She knew you were close the second your hips thrusted up, stealing a breathy moan. You were content lifting her off you to cum anywhere else that wasn’t inside her.
However, Nayeon was not. 
She made it perfectly clear when she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you against her as she quickened her pace. You tried, maybe not that much, to get her off you before you met your impending end, but it was futile when she kissed your cheek, affectionately, lovingly, hot breath against your skin that she wanted you to claim her in a way no one else ever had. 
Air left your lungs as you came, releasing a lot inside of her, causing her own orgasm that felt like yours went on forever. She muffled her scream, biting into your neck as her body trembled. 
You wanted to believe it was a one-time thing, a mishap, a lapse in judgment because it was still your fucking job on the line. 
It was not a one-time thing. You couldn’t even count it as a two-time thing, or three, or four. It just kept happening. You couldn’t exactly avoid her, you literally worked for her. 
No one would think you favored her because they all knew you did, but they understood why. No one could stop Nayeon from being near you because she would throw a fit. Any crisis she had, you were the main point of contact because she only listened to you. 
Even if you had some kind of control over her, she had the most control over you. 
Then after some time of figuring out how you and Nayeon could keep whatever this under wraps—nothing was ‘figured out’ as you wouldn’t really be talking if you were alone together—a mutual colleague introduced you to Bae Suji.
-- 
You went on one date with Suji, or Suzy, as she sometimes preferred. How any of the girls found out was beyond you, but if you had to wager, it would’ve been Jeongyeon or Sana (Nayeon later did say it was the latter because her friend saw you).
It didn’t matter who found out because managers are allowed to have lives outside of their work, but this particular part of your life wouldn’t be allowed by the woman you spent a good chunk of time with, on- and off-the-clock. 
To say Nayeon was upset would be an understatement. Sure, she was upset, but she was livid. You didn’t see her that night, but she was at your door the next morning. She did what she always did, easily seducing you before demanding an explanation while you were deep inside her. 
It wasn’t healthy by any means, but it’s not like either of you cared. It was toxic at best, but it was debauchery at its absolute worst, using sex as a loaded gun to get whatever you wanted from each other. 
“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You grunted as you thrusted inside her, pausing as her pussy tightened. 
“Yet here you fucking are, still balls deep inside of me,” Nayeon said lowly, tugging you so you towered over her. “You aren’t fucking her so why did you even go out with her?”
You didn’t bother responding, instead you wrapped a firm hand around her neck, squeezing enough to shut her up because at that point, she was pissing you off. 
You would admit that that morning was the first time you let her get the best of you. You typically weren’t aggressive with her. You might’ve been rough less than a handful of times, but never like that.
What you couldn’t predict was how she’d react. She could have done anything. Hit you. Slap you. Push you off. 
She didn’t. 
It spurred her on more than anything. By the way her pussy tightened. By the way it felt wetter. By the way she tried to make a sound, but couldn’t because of the hold around her.
Your hand relaxed, listening to her violently gasp as the air entered her body. You broke for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort, uneasiness, because at the end of the day—you wouldn’t admit this to her—you loved her. You were in love with her, stupidly falling for her whether you wanted to or not. You believed she felt the same, but those kinds of things weren’t a topic of discussion. 
“Baby,” You whispered, still buried inside of her, but you weren’t moving. “I’m sor—”
Nayeon shook her head, sitting up as you hissed once the cool air hit your cock. She gave you a quick peck before turning onto her stomach, arching her back. Pushing herself up on her hands, she shook her hips side to side, head slightly turned, “Fuck me, daddy.”
A new kink was unlocked that night among a myriad of emotions you weren’t prepared for. One thing you were prepared for was to fuck her like you owned her. 
Maybe you did, but she owned you too. 
-- -- 
You open your front door, stepping aside for Nayeon to walk through. Tossing the keys on the side table, the door shuts as you take off your shoes. She’s right next to you, arms crossed behind her back, leaning against the wall. She’s waiting for the reaction you give whenever she pisses you off. She does what she does to rile you up, if that isn’t obvious. 
You sigh, shaking your head, standing in front of Nayeon. Her eyes look up, but your gentle hand cups her chin, tilting her head back. When you meet her gaze, there’s something off with her. 
You can read her like a book, very familiar with her moods. Though, this time, you see—and feel—the walls up, something unfamiliar to you. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, searching her face for anything to give her away. Her expression remains neutral, shrugging indifferently. “Something’s wrong.” 
Nayeon pulls away, averting her gaze, “Nothing’s wrong.” Pause. “So are we going to fuck or what? Isn’t that why we’re here?” 
“Not with that attitude,” You say sternly, reaching for her arms behind her back. You bring them around, struggling a bit. “What the fuck is your problem?” 
“There is no fucking problem. If you want to talk about thoughts and feelings, I’m going to pass,” She breaks away, and you let her. “I’ll call Jihyo or Jeongyeon to pick me up.” She turns to walk away, but you reach out quickly, hand wrapping onto her forearm to pull her back. 
Nayeon lets out a small oomph against your chest, glaring at you, unbothered by her attitude (you’ve dealt with worse), “Tell me what the fuck is wrong right now.”
“Or what?” Nayeon huffs, hands on your chest in a feeble attempt to get away from you. 
The movement brings your bodies closer, and accidentally, maybe purposely, she grounds her pelvis against you. It’s with the lightest pressure, but it’s enough for your cock to stir, awakening from her heated stare. You notice the way her breath hitches, body shivering as you pull her closer. 
“Brat,” You murmur, dropping your head to capture her lips with your teeth. She moans softly when you start sucking. Her hands move to interlace behind your neck. You didn’t want to use sex to get it out of her, but she’s being defiant. “Do you get off on making me mad?” 
“Not intentionally, of course.” You feel her smile form, the upward curve of her lips as you slide your tongue in. She sighs dreamily into the kiss, dropping her weight to lean against the wall. You fall into her, practically pinning her. “Is someone going to put me in my place?” 
It’s a rhetorical question because there has only been one person to put her in her place. 
You. 
This evening could have played out in two ways. The first, being the doting lover you’re familiar with, praising her softly like a secret only between you and her, taking your time to draw out every moan and sigh against your lips. The second, the one you’re leaning towards, being the indifferent, apathetic lover, uncaring of if she cums, fucking her until she begs for you, pussy deliciously tight to force you to breed her, claim her, because she’s yours. 
“Why not that tool you were all over at the party?” The question catches her off guard, body tensing at the thought that you caught her. She wanted you to catch her though, she has always wanted to be wanted by you. “You knew I was watching across the room,” Pulling away as you tower over her.
“It wasn’t like that,” Nayeon rushes out, the excuse you’ve heard multiple times before. The false panic in her eyes means she knew exactly what she was doing to get a reaction out of you. “We were just talking.” 
“I don’t believe that,” You click your tongue, the image of her with someone else like that sparks a possessive desire. “That wasn’t very good of you, baby.” Void of any affection associated with the pet name. Under the dim light of your hallway, you see her eyes dilate and her breathing picks up. She wants you and fuck do you want her too. “Room. Now.” 
Nayeon nods obediently. You reward her with a soft, chaste kiss. She tries her best to keep your lips together, but you tap her hip twice and she pulls away. “Daddy.” She whines, pouting in hopes it’ll get her more than you’re giving. You thought she’d last longer before using her nickname for you. 
“Don’t be a brat,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her because if she wants to act out even more, you’d just have to punish her. “Go to the room now.” Nayeon’s eyes widen at your tone, nodding once before walking down the hallway. 
You tilt your head side-to-side, stretching the muscles before making a quick stop in the kitchen. You know you’ll both be exhausted whenever you finish, so you might as well at least have water nearby. You’ll find the energy to make her food in the morning, or there’s always takeaway. With two water bottles in hand, you kick your room door open to Nayeon perched on the edge of your bed, topless, only leaving her red lace bottoms, dress tossed haphazardly on the chair. 
“For later, okay?” Momentarily breaking out of character because you still care for her, and her well-being will always be your top priority. She sends you a grateful smile before you place the bottles on the dresser. When you meet her on the bed, she moves to swing her leg over yours, but you shake your head. “Not yet, baby. You weren’t very good back there.” 
“But, but,” Nayeon’s voice trembles, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean it!” 
“Then why did you act out? Do I not give you what you want?” You gently push Nayeon off to her original position. 
“You do!” She says desperately, nodding her head. 
“Then why? Why him?” You taunt, deciding how far you want to go with her tonight. Something’s still wrong, and you need to know what. You want the reason, the confession, because she doesn’t keep secrets from you. You see the wheels turning, unsure if whatever she has to say would matter. It does matter to you. “So what is it?” 
“Because I wanted your attention,” Nayeon confesses before she jumps on you, landing perfectly on your already hard cock. She moans at the contact, grinding slightly before your hands find themselves on her hips, guiding her movement. “I wanted you to remind me who I belong to.” 
“And who’s that?” You say lazily, tongue trailing against her lower lip before dipping inside, swirling that she grounds harder. 
“You,” Voice dropping low, seductively adding, “Daddy.” 
You have to still make her pay her retribution. She’s almost there, telling you the real reason, and you’ll get it out of her. You easily lift her body off yours, smirking at the whine and huff when you pull away as you lay her on your stomach against your lap. “I still have to punish you, baby.” You rest your hand on her back, ghosting over her skin until you reach her low back. 
“But daddy,” Nayeon huffs, raising her hips in a feeble attempt to get your hand where she wants. “It didn’t mean anything,” She repeats, squirming on your lap. 
Your hand goes lower, hovering over her buttcheek, “It meant something to me,” You say pensively. Curious, prodding, “Is that why you wanted me to fill in instead of Seoyeon-unnie? You didn’t want me to go on my date.”
You don’t hear a response. You swiftly bring your hand down to her bottom, a resounding smack echoes through the room. “Well?” 
Silence again, which would result in another slap to the other cheek. She muffled a moan into the bedsheets, refusing to budge. 
Bingo. 
Her pride is her biggest downfall, ego constantly needing to be stroked. She loves the attention and adoration from fans, thriving off the praise, knowing that it’s all for her. She would rather suffer through the pain than have to admit she was jealous. 
The center of attention, the one in the limelight, spotlight shining on her and only her. She craves that from you, to be the center of your world, but ever since Suji came into the picture, she’s scared that there might be someone else, crashing like a meteor on unstable ground she’s never had. 
You continue with the slaps, easing the sting with light rubs. You know she’s soaked, the small dark circle forming on her underwear. You’re not faring any better, cock tenting against the fabric. 
After the seventh hit, Nayeon moans, body shaking wantonly in frustration. “Fuck fuck, please, please.”
“Tell me the truth.” Coercion isn’t the best method, manipulative by any definition, but you had no other choice. 
“Fine, fine.” You relent, hand halting mid-air. “I didn’t want you to go. You’re supposed to be mine,” She cries, breath uneven as she tries to compose herself. 
Your hand drops. Her body flinches when she feels it against her skin, but continues to wait, anticipating your next move. Your chest squeezes at the confession because she’s never been this vulnerable, open, willing to express her feelings for you.
You give in, to her, to this, the urge to suddenly show her who owns you becomes too great. You pull her up, laying her on the bed as you fall in between her legs. 
“Baby,” You murmur, leaning forward to brush your lips against her ear, “You’re being so good. I am yours,” Her body shivers, hips rolling up into nothing as she seeks some kind of friction. “I’m yours,” You repeat like a mantra, a reminder of what you’ve always said. “You deserve a reward, okay?” 
Nayeon shakes her head, eyes shooting open, wild with want and desire. “I can’t wait, daddy.” She reaches for your shirt, ripping the buttons, before stopping at your belt. “Inside me, please. I need to feel you.” 
You do nothing to stop her, hands swiftly moving to unbuckle your belt and slipping your cock out of your briefs. You groan when she wraps around your length, stroking lightly. She aims the tip at her opening, against the lace, uncontrollably moaning and panting. 
“Go ahead,” You goad, eyes fixated on your cock rubbing over her. The wetness seeps on you, mouth watering at the sight. You watch as she moves her underwear to the side, lining up your cock perfectly, the warmth and wetness surrounding you has you seeing stars. 
“I’m so wet, daddy,” Nayeon moans loudly, scooting closer to take more of you in. “All for you—fuck.” 
You couldn’t help yourself. She felt too good, too wet, and the tightness suffocates you the second you snap your hips forward, burying your cock to the hilt inside her. The sudden stretch has her head snapping back, screaming into the air. 
“You’re such a slut, always ready for my cock,” You choke out, hands settling on her hips before drawing backwards. Her body squirms, chasing after the sensation of being filled. “So needy tonight, baby.”
“Please, please,” Nayeon begs, doing everything she can to get all of you back inside her. She wants you, wants you so no one else can have you, desperate for the feeling you give her. She thrusts her hips down, sucking you in unexpectedly, that you nearly collapse on top of her. Her arms wrap around you, nails digging into your skin when your length rubs along her walls. “Fuck me. You own me.”
“Mine?” You’re able to catch a breath, holding on to the control you’re trying to keep. 
“Yours.” 
It snaps, breaking the moment she says the word, possessing you to pull back before sliding back in. You lose yourself inside her, each moan and breathy sigh, as you set a steady pace. It’s a beautiful sensation for Nayeon’s pussy hugging your cock perfectly, warm, wet, tight—just for you. 
Her nails trail down, scratching your back enough that you’ll see the damage later. The pain turns you on, snapping your hips, driving your cock through. You nearly falter when your eyes meet hers. It’s akin to love, a word that has been dangerously sitting on the tip of your tongue these past few months. 
“I—fuck,” You stutter out. You can’t tell her how you feel. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t. 
“I love you.” 
You swear you misheard her. The three words forming the sentence that has you over the moon. She says it again, softly, affectionately, because she means it. 
“You love me?” You cease your movements, cock bottoming out inside of her. The snugness of her pussy warms your cock as you wait. She doesn’t hesitate, saying it again and again before pulling your lips to hers. 
“I love you,” Nayeon mumbles, tongue running along your bottom lip. 
“Fuck,” You pull away, hips drawing back before flipping her body over. She raises her hips, the beautiful arch in her back. You tear the lacy garment off, making a silent promise you’ll buy her another later. You’ll buy her whatever she wants. “I love you,” You whisper before sinking in, missing the way her eyes roll back. 
You couldn’t control what happened next as the words triggered her orgasm. Her pussy pulls you in, suffocating you so you wouldn’t leave—not like you had anywhere to go. You’d lose yourself inside her ten times out of ten. 
“Fuck daddy, I’m cumming,” Nayeon screams, panting as her body shudders, pussy tightening and relaxing rhythmically as you groan. You feel the wetness coat your upper thighs, guttural moaning against her hair. “Come inside me, please. I’m yours, yours, oh shit—”
Your stomach tightens, snapping at the way her ass cheeks ripple against your pelvis, moving uncontrollably as she coaxes your orgasm. Your hands grip her muscles, hips erratically thrusting into her as your release floods her, painting every crevice inside her. 
Nayeon leans her head back, enough for you to kiss her forehead. Her hands find yours, interlacing them sweetly as you both try to catch your breath. 
You’re still hard, and you’re feeling particularly giving. She can handle whatever you throw at you, so you gently remove one of your hands from hers, trailing slowly to the apex of her thighs. Her breathing hitches, “What’re you doing?” 
“Another,” You command as you rub through her folds, finding her clit. 
“Wait—wait shit,” The contact catches her by surprise, her body folding forward as you continue your onslaught. 
“Good girl,” You murmur, watching as her hips move in slow figure eights with your cock still inside. Her pussy constricts, finding every angle to hit her favorite spot. And when she does, she mewls and pants. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
Nayeon turns her head, locking eyes with you as she moves faster along your length. Your fingers aren’t idle, applying heavy pressure that has her going crazy, unsure with what to do with the pleasure flowing through her body. You mouth cum and flicking like a switch, she gushes all over you, forcing you to leave her warmth. 
“Fuck daddy,” Nayeon screams, voice hoarse as you watch her body convulse, back arching and flexing as she squirts more fluid than you’d ever seen. “I need you, please. Something, anything—oh shit!” Your fingers enter her swiftly, massaging her inner muscles as it just gets wetter, drenching your skin and bedsheets. 
“Tell me who owns this pussy,” You say lowly, eyes fixated on the way her butt muscles ripple with every movement of your fingers. 
“You,” She repeats your name over and over, pussy sucking you as she tightens deliciously around them. “God, fuck, you, sir, only you.” 
You replace your fingers with your cock, aiming at her opening before sinking in once again. Her fingers ball into fists, wrinkling the bed sheets as you nearly go feral on her body. She could take it. She wants you like this, crazy, addicted, in love that no one else could fuck her. She needs to feel how much you want her. She only needs you.
“So easy,” You swing a hand back, slapping each cheek with precision. “All you need is my cock, right?” 
“Yes, yes, only yours daddy,” Nayeon nods, easily agreeing to whatever you say. You could call her every name in the book, and she’d comply. She’s your little fucktoy that gets your cock stuffed inside her whenever you want.
You lose it once Nayeon lets out a high-pitched squeal. The orgasm crashes through your body, hips stuttering forcefully into hers as you fill her again, unabashedly rolling your hips to hear her breath staccato. 
Every nerve on your body buzzes, stimulated by Nayeon’s walls pulsing to milk you for all that you have. It hits overstimulation, sucking the breath from you as you regretfully pull out. She whines at the loss of contact, but you lean forward, sweetly kissing her buttcheek, nipping at the skin that she squirms. 
“Ticklish?” You tease, voice light and relaxed. The exhaustion slowly sets in your bones. 
“You know I am,” Nayeon huffs, hips dropping, limbs spread limply. 
You’re still a sick human, and you want to see the result of your activities. You nudge Nayeon’s leg, easily responsive as they spread a little. You bite your tongue at the sight of your essence dribbling out of her swollen lips. It’s hot, filthy to see you all over her. You wish you had a phone nearby to snapshot this into memory, but your mind drifts off to recreating it at a later date.
You yawn, collapsing next to her that she scoots to snuggle into your side. You fight to keep your eyes open because you still have to clean up. Nayeon mumbles something into your skin. You don’t quite catch what she says, softly asking her to repeat it, and you freeze. 
“I love you.”
It’s a finicky thing, this thing between you and Nayeon. Somewhere along the way, you fell for her. Maybe you knew the moment you met her, or maybe you knew that you would at some point in time. Or maybe you knew the night she walked into your office because by then, it had built up between you that that was the final piece of the puzzle to confirm what you’ve known. 
The hormones flow between you, and you can’t help but think that’s the only reason why. You’re an idiot too, “Are you just saying that?” Nayeon’s hand presses into your chest. You open your eyes to her peering over you, hair an unruly mess, “What?”
Nose scrunching, Nayeon rolls her eyes, “You seriously believe I’d throw that around so easily?”
You don’t, but this was Nayeon. You may have been sleeping with her for a while, but you’ve heard the girls talk about their flings. You could almost guarantee that she’s only been sleeping with you, but they know how to hide things. 
“Stupid,” Nayeon shakes her head when you ask again. “Did you just say it?”
You did. You do. It’s not just the hormones causing you to act like such a love struck idiot. You weigh the situation, knowing that whatever answer you give will change your relationship. It won’t be an illicit affair between an idol and her manager. It’ll be hard because you’d still have to keep it a secret, unless you changed companies, something you’d be willing to do. 
“No,” You send an easy smile, “I love you. I’m in love with you.” 
Nayeon’s face lights up, beaming with all her teeth showing, eyes crinkling in the corners. She kisses you, softly, tenderly, a contrast to how you were no less than five minutes ago. 
“I love you,” Nayeon says quietly, an unspoken vow passed between you. She understands what this means, being together for real, that there will be hardships, but she’ll do them with you. 
You sigh contentedly against her lips, whispering those same three words, full of intent and promise. 
“No more dates with Suji-unnie,” Nayeon sing-songs, confident after pecking you on the lips, smug at accomplishing her mission of making you hers. 
-- -- -- 
(pardon any mistakes or typos, lol)
528 notes · View notes
fikefries · 3 days
Text
wisdom; matt sturniolo
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summary: you had to get your wisdom teeth out, but with your extreme phobia of needles, it wasnt going to be easy. luckily your boyfriend matt and his brothers stick by your side the entire time.
warnings: needles, mentions of rapid breathing, dentists, anaesthesia
the day had come. the day you had been dreading for weeks.
you had to get your wisdom teeth out.
normally, you werent such a wuss, you handled pain and hospitals well.
but needles.
you couldnt stand the sight of needles. their pricky ends and shiny surface making you feel lightheaded at the sight of them.
thats what make you so nervous for today, the part where they had to stab your arm with a huge ass needle to get the IV in.
you were on the way to the dentists office, your boyfriend matt sitting in the drivers seat, your best friend chris in the passenger seat, while you and your bff nick sat together in the back.
all three of them knew of your phobia of needles, so they were trying their best to calm you down before you got there.
"no chris you dont understand, how can i 'chill out' knowing a huge fucking metal pointy thing is going to be stabbed directly into my goddamn bloodflow, have you seen the length of those fuckin needles?" i say to chris frustratedly as he tried to explain to me that it was no big deal.
chris sighed in defeat as he gave up on trying to reason with you.
my nerves were increasing by the second as we got closer and closer to the dentists office.
matt noticed your anxious state and pulled over at the last stop sign before you reached the dentists office. he turned around leaned back to face you, cupping your cheek with his hand, softly caressing your face in an attempt to comfort you and calm you down.
"listen baby, i know you're nervous- i know that alright? but you need to stay calm for me. ill be there with you the entire time okay? theres no need to worry or be scared, nothings going to happen to you. you have us by your side."
you felt nick rub a soothing hand over your back as chris added
"yeah y/n, dont worry if the needle hurts you ill beat it up" making punching motions with his fist.
you couldnt help but giggle at chris's attempt to lighten the mood.
"alright baby you ready to go in?" matt asked softly holding your hand tightly.
"ready" you sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this.
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the lights in the dentists office were blindingly bright white, forcing you to squint your eyes while you walked in. as you entered, you noticed all the dentist equipment sitting on the spotless metal counters, wires of different colours spread out all over the floor, connected to the dental bed.
the dentist was explaining the procedure to you, matt, nick and chris. but his words became more and more muffled in your brain as you look around the room. finally laying eyes on the needles.
matt sensed your change in demeanour as he noticed your breathing became increasingly rapid. he came up behind you, softly hugging your waist and moving you to the spot he was originally, blocking your eyes from the view of the needles. then wrapping an arm around you and tracing soft patterns on your shoulder while glancing at your face every few seconds to make sure you're not panicking, as you both continued to listen to the dentists explanation.
after the briefing about the procedure, it was time for it to actually happen. matt helped you up onto the dental bed, placing his hand on the back of your head to make sure you dont hit it as you lay back.
chris stood to the right of the bed, rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder
"you're gonna kill it y/n" he said supportingly
"yeah unless it kills me" you snorted, joking, making the boys giggle before returning to comforting you with small rubs and words of support whilst the dentist set up his equipment.
chris and nick left the room for a bit, wanting to give both you and the dentist space, as they knew it wouldnt be easy for you.
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it was time. time for the part you were dreading most. you stared at the long silver blade as the dentist filled it with the medicine that needed to be injected into you through the IV, matt standing beside the bed.
"hey- hey y/n, dont look at that, look at me okay." he said as he slowly moved your head towards him, trying to distract you from the needle.
"just look at me okay, youre doing so good baby im so proud of you."
you stared into matts big blue eyes as he gave you soft affirmations, how did you get so lucky?
matt saw the doctor getting ready to insert the needle into your skin, so he pulled your hoodie down to cover your eyes, and cradled your face into his tshirt, running his fingers through your hair, trying to distract you from what was about to come.
"you're doing so good for me baby, the worst parts almost over"
when you felt the cold metal pierce your skin, you leaned further into matt, trying not to embarrass yourself by whimpering or making any embarrassing sounds. as the needle was being pushed deeper in, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly.
"matttt" you groaned, on the verge of tears, muffled by his tshirt.
"i know baby, i know- youre almost done, you did amazing." he reassured you, holding your head into his shirt and smoothing down your hair while he watched you squirm in his embrace, his heart breaking at the sight.
once the IV was fully in, matt slowly loosened his grip on you, pulling you out of his embrace as you leaned back onto the bed, just then you heard the door open revealing chris and nick walking back in.
"you did it y/n!" chris exclaimed, placing a hand on your head
"we're so proud of you" nick added, patting his hand on your leg as reassurance
"that fuckin sucked" you slurred, the anaesthesia kicking in.
"ooh y/n's getting drowsy now, thats the anaesthesia kicking in" nick said
"how do you feel baby" matt asked rubbing your shoulder
"all i can feel is this fucking dumb bitchass needle in my goddamn arm" you replied, words slurring, making the boys break out into laughter at your choice of wording.
"well now the worsts part over baby, you faced your fear so well."
"hmmmm" you hummed in reply, feeling too drowsy to think
through your blurred vision you looked up at the 3 boys
"you guys look the same" you said
"matt.i love you so fuckin much" you added immediately without giving them time to reply
"and chris and nick i love you guys too"
the boys giggled at your sudden affection
"we love you too y/n" nick giggled
'you're so pretty matty" you admired, reaching your hand out to matt's face, making chris and nick giggle.
"you're the prettiest girl in the world baby, and i love you so much, but right now you gotta keep your hands down okay? if you keep your hands still we can get out of here faster and go get ice cream okay" matt retorted
"can we play ayesha erotica on the way home?" you asked innocently, looking up at matt with pleading eyes.
"yes y/n we can play ayesha erotica"
"i wanna go the fuck home" you said, before falling into a deep sleep due to the anaesthesia.
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outside the room
y/n was undergoing the procedure of getting her teeth taken out now, which means the boys had to leave the room.
"matt you do you feel" chris asked, throwing a shoulder around his brother, recording him on his iphone.
"im so proud of her, i know she was scared and i know she'd beeen feeling pain so its a relief that she was able to pull through and face her fears. i knew she could do it shes my girl." matt said to the phone
"thats adorable" nick giggled, before the doctor called them to come back in.
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you were now fully awake, 4 teeth less than before, with gauze in your mouth and a frown on your face
"hi baby, you such an amazing job. im so fucking proud of you right now." matt said as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he admired how cute you looked, mouth swollen, and filled with gauze that made your cheeks puffy, and an adorable frown on your forehead.
"youre crazy y/n, you made that look so easy" nick said rubbing your head.
"can we go home now please" you said grumpily, anaesthesia still now worn off.
"i want this fucking shit out of my body" you said referring to the IV in your arm, as you tried to yank it out.
"WOAH NO- NO Y/N YOU CANT PULL IT OUT" matt exclaimed worriedly.
"baby you need that in you, it helps you not feel the pain in your mouth."
"matt whats this" you asked sticking your tongue out
"thats your tongue baby"
"i cant feel it, or my lips, where are my lips?"
"theyre right here" matt replied as he gently pressed a finger to your lips, giving you the perfect oppurtunity to place a soft kiss on the pad of his finger, making him giggle,
"i want chipotle" you stated bluntly
"no- no chipotle, she cant have any hard foods that may get stuck in her mouth for atleast two weeks, stick to ice creams, soups and mashed potatoes." the dentist told matt, knowing you wouldnt be able to remember this information.
"heard that baby? ice cream and mashed potatoes- doesnt that sound great?"
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you got to leave the dentist in a wheelchair, which was pretty great.
once you got home, matt ordered you chicken noodle soup and fed it to you while you guys watched spongebob, then he cleaned and replaced your gauze, then helped you get changed and into bed, holding you tightly as you both drifted off into sleep.
you could not have asked for a better boyfriend than matthew sturniolo, you really hit the jackpot.
613 notes · View notes
penguinbuttcheeks · 3 days
Text
Not a Woman - price x reader
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summary: you get called to price’s office after a mission gone wrong in russia. after internalising your emotions for so long, you’re unable to hold back and finally reveal your deepest secret.
pairing: platonic!price x transmasc!reader
cw: mentions/hints towards sa, internalised transphobia (from reader), stereotyped sexism (cuz this is the military and the 141 boys would absolutely have some internalised misogyny ingrained in them)
word count: 3,079
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A/N: there’s not really any fics out there targeted towards male readers, specifically trans men- and i wanted to write something (somewhat of a vent) about my own experience as a trans masc person.
this was originally posted on ao3, but i also wanted to post it here since i’ve gotten some good feedback and it boosted my confidence a bit :p
this is my first ever fic, so any feedback or tips would be super appreciated !!
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After a particularly hard mission, you were called into Price’s office for a little chat.
The TaskForce's recent mission in Russia hadn't panned out as smoothly as he had hoped.
While the team's intel was thorough, word had gotten out that the 141 were planning to infiltrate a terrorist organisation from an unknown source. The plan had been disclosed before the group had even managed to reach their location.
It was complete and utter chaos. The entire team outnumbered with masses of last minute reinforcements.
The five of you barely made it out alive and Price now had the added stress of trying to locate the mole who had leaked highly confidential information from the TaskForce.
The following weeks succeeding the mission, your attitude had started to become short with some of your teammates and often ended in hostility.
The four men were starting to reach their limit, originally approaching you with care, however their patience soon ran thin. It was a draining mission for everyone after all.
Patience soon turned to agitation as each attempt to reach out to you was shut down. All that they had received in return were your harsh, snarky retorts and violent yells. Your behaviour was a stark contrast to the usually friendly and calm nature everyone at the base knew you for.
The taskforce Captain needed to check up on you - for the sake of his men, and for the sake of their own sanity.
Upon hearing the news that Price had called you to his office, you were immediately on high alert.
You weren't oblivious to your behaviour. Each attempt to open up to your comrades about any internal struggle that was so deeply buried was replaced with hurtful insults.
It hurt, but you knew they were hurting more.
You entered Price's office after knocking swiftly on his door with three simple knocks, his tired voice granting you permission to enter from inside.
Price had tried to approach the conversation professionally, tried to keep a level head, however when you snap at him in a sudden fit of anger - the calm, almost fatherly attitude is immediately gone.
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me!” He growls, standing up from his desk. The palms of his hands pressed firmly in to the wooden table surface as he towered over you.
The anger in his eyes was palpable. Terrifying almost.
The hardened gaze you keep trained on Price falters slightly, a small flash of fear crossing your features before it's quickly buried away, trying to maintain a strong composure in the midst of your Captain's presence.
His expression doesn’t change, keeping his cold stare trained on you. A small part of him respects you for standing your ground but most of him is disappointed. Hurt.
“Do you have something you need to get off your chest, Sergeant? Something bothering you?” His voice is hard now as he glares down at you, his anger bubbling just below the surface as he watches you trying to maintain your facade.
Price is met with nothing but silence as he stares down at the soldier in front of him.
With your head held high and shoulders tightly squared - you simply glare back at him in defiance.
The office is eerily silent, the tense atmosphere could easily be cut with even the dullest of blades left discarded to be sharpened in the training room.
Time seems to still as the two soldiers stare each other down.
If it weren't for the emotional turmoil fogging your rationale you would be horrified by your lack of respect towards Price on any other day.
Despite your futile attempts to maintain your composure, hot, angry tears spring to your eyes, a heavy lump forming at the base of your throat.
It’s not long before they’re spilling over your cheeks. Fat, hot droplets dripping from your chin and leaving rain-like splatters on the tiled floor surrounding your feet.
Price’s expression immediately softens at the sight, the cold mask of his exterior cracking as the pain in his voice rises.
“Damnit…”
In one swift motion, the towering behemoth of a man is rounding his desk to stand in front of you, his concerned gaze never leaving your trembling form.
Despite the angry glare you shoot at him your tears never cease.
“What’s going on?” He asks sternly, his blue eyes filled with a flurry of numerous emotions. “What’s wrong?” He continues to press.
The cold front you try your best to maintain drops immediately, head hanging in defeat and burying deep in to the palms of your hands. You desperately try to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks, turning your body away in complete mortification.
One question was all it took. A simple inquiry on your wellbeing sent your defences crumbling to the ground.
Harrowing sobs and sloppy sniffles echo off the brick walls of the small, cluttered office. You whimper through your cries, teeth biting harshly in to your trembling lip in a desperate attempt to muffle any escaping sounds.
The display of vulnerability is humiliating.
“Hey… It’s okay.” He gently assures you, large palms rubbing against your shoulders in an attempt to calm you. He can sense your embarrassment and tries his best to put you at ease.
Any trace of his anger is immediately wiped from his demeanour, replaced with concern for the soldier stood before him.
“Just breathe for a moment”
He continues to stand beside you, his reassuring strokes along the tense muscles of your back slightly alleviating your distress.
“I want to know what I can do to help you.”
Price’s voice is gentle with a hint of unease.
“You can talk to me” he reminds earnestly. And what he says is true.
His priority as Captain has always been towards the wellbeing of his subordinates.
A deep sense of shame spreads through you at Price’s desperate attempts to try and break past the walls that had been so highly constructed around you.
You knew just how much your actions were hurting him.
You knew just how much your actions were hurting your comrades.
You knew just how much your actions were hurting yourself.
“I know!”
The sob that escapes is gut wrenching.
“I know I can talk to you- I know I should have, but I was scared- so embarrassed, so humiliated by what happened-" You're stumbling pathetically over your words as you try in desperate attempt to form the words that you want to say, but your mind is racing far too fast for you to keep up.
You sink to the floor on your hunches, your body curling in on itself- face still buried deeply in your hands.
"I'm so sorry!"
Price can't help but watch the scene unfold in bewilderment. In all the time you have worked together he had never seen such an intense display of emotions from you.
"I'm sorry I was so angry at everyone- so angry at you, my comrades, my family-" Each word is laced in despair at your confession.
It stabs deeply at Price when he realises just how much inner turmoil you have been struggling with.
The tall Captain crouches down on the ground beside you, lowering his level to meet your own.
A strong arm places itself around your small shoulders. It's clear with just how unsure his touch is that the situation is miles out of his comfort zone.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" He asks, his voice low. "I know you're embarrassed, but it's alright. Just take your time. Breathe."
He makes sure to assure you throughout your emotional distress, letting you curl up and continue to cry as you lean in to his words of support.
You slowly lower you shaking hands, peering up at Price who looks down at you with consideration.
Your eyes are red and puffy, cheeks flushed red and blotchy from your mourning.
"It was the mission in Russia" You begin to explain to Price, his gaze never leaving yours and his body turned to you in full attention.
Price's demeanour shifts as the memories of our recent mission flash through his mind. He was there leading charge and he recalls how brutal it was for all of his subordinates.
He nods his head in acknowledgement, listening thoughtfully to your words.
"Go on" He nods, urging you to continue.
You think back to the operation - recalling specifically the moment you had been separated from the group.
Price had chewed you out on the heli for going radio silent on the rest of the team while they furiously defended themselves against the never ending onslaught of enemies that never seemed to cease in their swarming.
No one knew what had happened when you were forced to go rogue, despite multiple attempts to draw the information out of you.
Eventually they had ruled it off, concluding that you were fine and simply agitated from stress - that it was what had resulted in so much tension between you and your comrades.
"I ran in to some trouble" you shakily exhale.
Price immediately recalls the incident, nodding again.
He is fully focused as he listens, silent as he prepares himself for what he's going to hear. Price can sense that this is a difficult topic based off your tone of voice alone.
An uneasy feeling settles in his stomach, realising that what you're going to say next is not going to be easy.
You didn't want him to know about the details of what went down and he gives you the space to open up on your own accord and choose for yourself what you're willing to reveal.
As quickly as your emotions had died down they start to build up again rapidly. The trembling in your body returning as you brace yourself for what you're finally about to reveal to your Captain.
"I tried to get away from them- I tried so hard" your voice quivers, barely above a whisper as your eyes clench shut. "There were so many of them, they wouldn't let go of me- they completely overpowered me."
He feels his heart drop.
Price's rhythmic strokes on your back freeze to a halt, the reality of your words sinking in.
He doesn't let you continue with the details. He doesn't want to force you in to that position of vulnerability.
The expression on his face immediately turns from sympathy to anger, his eyebrows curling down at the thought of what you had endured.
"I should have been able to fight back, or at least run away" You spit out angrily.
Your words snap Price back to reality, his train of thought abruptly coming to a halt at the realisation of your words.
"I'm a trained fucking soldier. It was pathetic" You sneer.
Your hard gaze is trained on the ground in front of you, tears still streaming down your face, leaving trails of silver streaks across your cheeks.
The expression on Price's face hardens as his large hand grips your shoulder tightly. He shakes his head sternly at you, speaking solemnly.
"You were attacked by a group of men. How the hell were you supposed to defend yourself while so heavily outnumbered?" He barks at you authoritatively.
Too many thoughts were swimming through Price's head for him to realise the harshness of his tone. He was horrified that this had happened under his command. Devastated that this had happened to one of his soldiers.
You lift your gaze to meet Price's once again.
"I've seen you do it. I've seen all of you do it" you hiss out in frustration.
So many times you've bared witness to your male comrades almost effortlessly fend themselves against multiple enemies with ease.
Deep down you knew it was a physical advantage. You were smaller, weaker in comparison to the rest of your team.
It made you feel repulsive.
"I'm a man," Price reminds you harshly, making you flinch. He doesn’t realise the impact of those three, simple words.
The anger in him is clear, but not towards you. He is furious that this had happened to you, and even more so that you were blaming yourself for something purely out of your control.
"Even the strongest of men would have struggled in your situation."
Your body is tense, jaw locking in anger as you coldly stare at Price's chest to avoid his gaze.
"I hate being a woman" you mutter. "I hate it. I wish I was stronger, that I was taller. I wish I could walk down the goddamn street by myself without being absolutely terrified of the men around me- I wish I was a fucking man!"
Your voice is desperate, growing louder as you gasp out each word of remorse for your gender.
His grip on your shoulder loosens, retreating back to his side as he takes in the desperation of your voice. He can see the struggle that lies behind your usually confident mask you wear so proudly every day.
It breaks his heart to see how much this affects you.
Price doesn't say anything, only listens as you release your frustrations without judgement. He doesn't want to interrupt you with words of comfort just yet. He can tell that this has been deeply concealed for far too long. His focus is completely on what you have to say, however harsh it may be.
"I never should have been born in this god forsaken body- I never should have been born a woman!" your hands tug at your hair furiously. "I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!"
Finally, after listening to your frantic outburst, Price steps in with a gentle voice. A combination of pity and sadness.
He hates seeing how much this attack has affected you, and is feeling a deep shame at his inability to protect you in your moment of need.
"Shh... you don't mean that" he coos softly, voice cracking slightly as he tries to control his own emotions.
"But I do!" You glare at the Captain that kneels before you. "Ever since I was a kid- I've despised myself for being a woman- for being born in this body" you fiercely seethe. "Why couldn't I have just been born a fucking man?" You slam your fist down in anger.
"No matter what I do. I can't love myself when I'm like this- when I'm a woman!" The word 'woman' spits venomously from your tongue, as if the very word itself felt like poison upon your lips.
Price feels a sting in his heart as your words hit him with such harshness and rage.
He had never imagined being so desperate for something, anything that would strip your confidence so brutally from your own body, that you'd learn to hate yourself so much that you wished you were something else. Price comes to the realisation that this stems much further than your assault.
He looks at the broken soldier in front of him. A soldier so ashamed and severred by a cruel hand that they were forced to live with.
A heavy silence hangs between them, all the while Price's eyes move analytically over your form.
"It's just something that I have to live with - something that I have to come to terms with."
You're nothing but defeated.
"I'll always be a woman, no matter what." you whisper dejectedly, staring blankly at the floor.
His eyes are locked on you and the pain across your face. He's torn between trying to ease your struggle, but not wanting to say anything until you are finished pouring out the pent up anger and hatred that you so desperately needed to.
When the room is silent, Price speaks up again, the words leaving his mouth almost instinctively.
"What if you didn't have to come to terms with being a woman?" Price inquires softly. "What if you accepted the fact that you're...." Price trails off, letting you take the initiative to finish his sentence. He doesn't want to step out of line with something so personal.
"That Im trans.." You quietly finish
He nods his head solemnly, taking a deep breath with you at the revelation.
The room is engulfed in silence once again. The admission alone is something you had buried away so deeply, something you never thought would ever leave the confines of your thoughts. Something that would never reach listening ears. It's almost surreal as you process your confession.
"You know that's not something you have to hide from us, right?" Price asks gently, shifting on his knees so that he was fully seated on the floor with you.
"Gaz, Ghost, Soap... We'll accept you for who you are and whatever you want to be. You don't need to live a lie" Price is tender with his approach.
He watches as you anxiously chew your lip, pulling your knees to your chest tightly.
Your eyes dart around the room, a small feeling of dread slowly creeping up your spine.
"I'll be the laughing stock of the base" you chuckle bitterly, though Price can tell that his suggestion to embrace your true self hasn't been fully shut down.
Like a terrified child, you curl in on yourself further, pressing in to a small, defensive ball.
"Do you really think we would let anyone treat you like that? If they so much as look at you funny, they will personally have to answer to me."
You smile gently at Price, feeling a sudden surge of affection for the man's protectiveness.
Price's shoulders relax slightly at the sight of your smile.
The two of you were a sight to behold, huddled on the floor of his office. It's almost comedic.
Feeling the stiffness in his body, Price slowly rises to his feet, a hand extended towards you to lift you off the floor with him.
You accept gratefully, standing shakily as your body groans in relief.
"Come on soldier," Price calls out to you, heading towards the door to his office.
"We have some arrangements to be made" He smiles at you warmly.
Your stomach flutters at your Captain's immediate acceptance. Just like that, no further discussion was needed
In this moment- you know that this is your chosen family.
This is the home that you deserve, and you were not going to let yourself feel like a stranger in it any longer.
You bite down your smile, nodding at Price as you follow after him and out of his office.
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wings-of-ink · 2 days
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Chapter 3 is Live!
Hello everyone! I hope you are doing well.
Just wanted to announce that the demo for God-Cursed has been updated to include chapter 3. It has been submitted as part of the Amare Games Festival 2024. I don't believe it will be game-breaking if you do not fully restart, but I recommend that you try to zip through the first chapters if you are only wanting to see what’s new in chapter 3.
https://wings-of-ink.itch.io/god-cursed
Some notes on the update if you are interested…
Chapter 3 is quite large and has more than doubled the word count - but keep in mind that includes coding and text that is entered for multiple passages. This chapter was actually shortened from my original vision to accommodate time constraints and as the current ending point provided a natural break after a very hefty segment. Unfortunately, you will have to wait a bit to meet the last of the ROs.
Several general updates were made and even to chapters 1 & 2 were touched up. This includes:  simple corrections to typos and grammar, the altering of some values for certain variables, the addition of MC hair customization options (white hair added, option to have MC go grey as well), and some general improvements to some of the text.
The Codex was also updated with a good bit of pantheon information, the contrast color for dark mode links was improved, a link to a bug/error report form was added to the menu, and trigger warnings were updated to include things that will come up even beyond chapter 3.
Chapter 3 will continue to be refined as it did not get the amount of editing and testing that I would have liked, and there’s one or two smaller extras that I didn’t have time to add. Please report errors to me via the linked Google form in the game menu - nothing is too small. I think I caught the biggest, game-breaking, errors over the weekend, but there’s likely some issues with code floating around. If you are uncomfortable using the form, you can send me an Ask through Tumblr as well.
I hope you enjoy this little update! I found it enjoyable but not as exciting as I would have hoped (personally), though there are some very fun antics you can get up to. The next installment will have a lot more adventure (and mishaps), and you’ll finally get to meet all the main players of your story!
Take care!
~ Lunan
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feudalconnection · 6 hours
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Get Ready...!!
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It's the start of the 2nd Term 2024 Inuyasha Fandom Awards!
We hope everyone has had a good start to the year! A huge shout-out to everyone who participated last term and made it such a huge success! We look forward to all of the amazing new fanfiction and fanart to be shared with this beautiful community!
A special thank you goes out to @elevenharbor for donating her time and talent to creating banners for everyone! (If you have not received your award banner for last term, please reach out to one of the mods asap!)
We also wanted to let you know that the lovely @yukinon-writes has stepped down as being a moderator for FeudalConnection. She has brought such amazing elements to our awards, and we will always keep a mod-spot open should she wish to return.
With her parting, we've had a seamless transition in welcoming @the-lone-huntress into the fold, and we look forward to all of her ideas and innovations she brings with her.
At the end of last term, the voting form also included the possibilities of the Roulette Categories for this term, and we have taken the top choices for both Fanart and Fanfiction:
The Fanfiction Roulette Category for this term will be Best Rising Author. This is defined as: A piece crafted by an Inuyasha fandom creator who has not placed first, second, or third in any previous quarters. A category to recognize lesser-known authors and show them some love.
The Fanart Roulette Category for this term will be Best Underappreciated Fanart. This is defined as: An Art piece with under 100 notes or retweets, designed to highlight some of the newer or lesser known artists.
In addition, we are adding a Roulette Romance category for both Fanfiction and Fanart. This term the pairing chosen will be Inuparents (Inu no Taisho x Izayoi).
For Fanfiction, it will be defined as: Stories that have developed a believable romance between Inu no Taisho and Izayoi (aka Inuyasha's parents). "Believable" is subjective, and it is up to those nominating/voting to draw their own line on that quantifier and vote their "Best". This includes canon universe and AU/AR settings. A thruple can be included, but only if the focus is on Izayoi and Inu no Taisho's relationship.
For Fanart, it will be defined as: Any romantic depiction of Inu no Taisho and Izayoi (aka Inuyasha's parents).
The original Best Romance categories will remain, so all other pairings, including LGBTQ+, can be nominated into those categories. All other pairings will be up for voting again next term.
If it wasn't mentioned above, chances are it hasn't changed. Please be aware that the moderators always take suggestions regarding how the awards are run and category changes into consideration, and each new term may bring about new changes. You can read up on the most recent FAQs, Rules of Eligibility, and Categories for more information [these links are only available on desktop].
For ease of access on mobile, the FAQs, Rules of Eligibility, and Categories can be accessed through this link.
As nominators, please make sure that each term you take a peek at our list of creators who can’t be nominated to make sure you are staying current with who is eligible to be nominated.
Here you can find the mobile-friendly link for all current nominations for this term.
The 2nd Term 2024 nomination period will begin on May 1st and go until the end of the day May 15th. Please send your nominations in through the submit button! If you have any other questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to send in an ask or reach out to one of the mods! We are also frequently available on the FC Discord!
Mods: @classysassy9791, @ruddcatha, @dchelyst, @the-lone-huntress
Please reblog to spread the word of the start of the new term!
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seafoamreadings · 7 hours
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week of april 28th, 2024
these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)
aries: mars into your sign at last is likely to renew your energy and power. pluto heading retrograde may disrupt your social life, so even if you feel like a nuclear-powered battery keeps you going in that arena, it may be wisest to tone down the socializing and let things blow over a bit.
taurus: so many things end up just where they're supposed to be this week. mercury settling into direct motion, mars into its domicile aries in your 12th house, and venus at home in your sign too. you may feel energetic or simply hotheaded, but you know how to have a good time, so do it.
gemini: the academic geminis among you may have some sort of philosophical disruption or bureaucratic struggle to overcome this week. it is easy to get lost in frivolous things when they are large in number and every day, but don't let them overpower what really matters to you at the core.
cancerians: this long cardinal period does not let you rest yet. mars moves into aries and then your ruler the moon does too. in some ways you will feel like you've been transmogrified into an aries yourself. think before you act, but don't shut down the whole operation if you're really in the right.
leo: pluto of course is these days haunting your 7th house of partnership. this week he heads backwards in the first couple of degrees of aquarius for a little added upheaval until he straightens out his retrograde motion, so hold on to your hats.
virgo: mars heads from your seventh house into your eighth house. this is rather like a honeymoon phase wearing off, and a push to pool resources. but that push is impulsive and perhaps purely external. forget what they say about sharing is caring - you can if you want to but make sure you actually want to.
libra: your relationships take an emotional turn this week in more ways than one. there is an impulsive and urgent desire, lust even. then there is that need for nourishment. try to meet all your needs, but place nourishment first. this desire comes likely a bit later in the week than the impulses. but real intimacy - in the sense of vulnerable closeness - is what is going to feed you best.
scorpio: venus into taurus brings a lot of potential pleasure to relationships and deep partnership. if those things aren't part of your focus right now consider at least spending some time thinking about it! meanwhile mars in aries has an affinity with you that can give you a good boost in day to day energy.
sagittarius: mars into aries means fun for you. get creative, go on dates if that's your thing, spend time with children if you get along with them! whatever brings you bliss. meanwhile venus in taurus is really good for your day to day well being, especially if you are using this time to sleep well, eat good, and stop to smell the roses.
capricorn: you're known for being the hardest worker of the zodiac, and in your darkest moments perhaps a bit of a miser. but allow venus in taurus to be fun rather than forcing yourself to keep your nose to the grindstone. and if you can, make active changes to your home as well, wherever repairs are needed or a little life could stand to be injected.
aquarius: power struggles involving the home and/or family of origin are fairly likely this week. these are best worked with and worked through, not avoided or detoured. one way to help this go smoothly is to make a safe and pleasant home for yourself; if you cannot alter the building you are in or the people you are around, make this spiritually within.
pisces: i feel like i've been issuing you a lot of warnings lately to take care of your money diligently but this week is no exception. on the bright side, venus in taurus is very powerful for your social life in your local community, so don't stay at home too much unless you really need the recharging. such neighborhood involvement will go surprisingly far behind the scenes in your spirtual development and in fact a church or a coven type of group, or even a support group, would be highly auspicious, according to your personal style.
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chanyoungies · 1 year
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the urge to commit crimes
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nasa · 1 month
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What We Learned from Flying a Helicopter on Mars
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The Ingenuity Mars Helicopter made history – not only as the first aircraft to perform powered, controlled flight on another world – but also for exceeding expectations, pushing the limits, and setting the stage for future NASA aerial exploration of other worlds.
Built as a technology demonstration designed to perform up to five experimental test flights over 30 days, Ingenuity performed flight operations from the Martian surface for almost three years. The helicopter ended its mission on Jan. 25, 2024, after sustaining damage to its rotor blades during its 72nd flight.
So, what did we learn from this small but mighty helicopter?
We can fly rotorcraft in the thin atmosphere of other planets.
Ingenuity proved that powered, controlled flight is possible on other worlds when it took to the Martian skies for the first time on April 19, 2021.
Flying on planets like Mars is no easy feat: The Red Planet has a significantly lower gravity – one-third that of Earth’s – and an extremely thin atmosphere, with only 1% the pressure at the surface compared to our planet. This means there are relatively few air molecules with which Ingenuity’s two 4-foot-wide (1.2-meter-wide) rotor blades can interact to achieve flight.
Ingenuity performed several flights dedicated to understanding key aerodynamic effects and how they interact with the structure and control system of the helicopter, providing us with a treasure-trove of data on how aircraft fly in the Martian atmosphere.
Now, we can use this knowledge to directly improve performance and reduce risk on future planetary aerial vehicles.
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Creative solutions and “ingenuity” kept the helicopter flying longer than expected.
Over an extended mission that lasted for almost 1,000 Martian days (more than 33 times longer than originally planned), Ingenuity was upgraded with the ability to autonomously choose landing sites in treacherous terrain, dealt with a dead sensor, dusted itself off after dust storms, operated from 48 different airfields, performed three emergency landings, and survived a frigid Martian winter.
Fun fact: To keep costs low, the helicopter contained many off-the-shelf-commercial parts from the smartphone industry - parts that had never been tested in deep space. Those parts also surpassed expectations, proving durable throughout Ingenuity’s extended mission, and can inform future budget-conscious hardware solutions.
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There is value in adding an aerial dimension to interplanetary surface missions.
Ingenuity traveled to Mars on the belly of the Perseverance rover, which served as the communications relay for Ingenuity and, therefore, was its constant companion. The helicopter also proved itself a helpful scout to the rover.
After its initial five flights in 2021, Ingenuity transitioned to an “operations demonstration,” serving as Perseverance’s eyes in the sky as it scouted science targets, potential rover routes, and inaccessible features, while also capturing stereo images for digital elevation maps.
Airborne assets like Ingenuity unlock a new dimension of exploration on Mars that we did not yet have – providing more pixels per meter of resolution for imaging than an orbiter and exploring locations a rover cannot reach.
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Tech demos can pay off big time.
Ingenuity was flown as a technology demonstration payload on the Mars 2020 mission, and was a high risk, high reward, low-cost endeavor that paid off big. The data collected by the helicopter will be analyzed for years to come and will benefit future Mars and other planetary missions.
Just as the Sojourner rover led to the MER-class (Spirit and Opportunity) rovers, and the MSL-class (Curiosity and Perseverance) rovers, the team believes Ingenuity’s success will lead to future fleets of aircraft at Mars.
In general, NASA’s Technology Demonstration Missions test and advance new technologies, and then transition those capabilities to NASA missions, industry, and other government agencies. Chosen technologies are thoroughly ground- and flight-tested in relevant operating environments — reducing risks to future flight missions, gaining operational heritage and continuing NASA’s long history as a technological leader.
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You can fall in love with robots on another planet.
Following in the tracks of beloved Martian rovers, the Ingenuity Mars Helicopter built up a worldwide fanbase. The Ingenuity team and public awaited every single flight with anticipation, awe, humor, and hope.
Check out #ThanksIngenuity on social media to see what’s been said about the helicopter’s accomplishments.
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Learn more about Ingenuity’s accomplishments here. And make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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lactoseintolerentswag · 7 months
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Big Mama's Dialogue
I've heard a few people lament on how Big Mama is difficult to write because of how she speaks, so I thought I'd share my tips and tricks.
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I start out by writing what I intend for her to say without the flowery language added on. For example:
"I look nice in the new jacket I bought."
Doesn't sound like Big Mama at all, but it'll help you have a place to start so you don't have to be intimidated by scrolling through thesaurus.
Now, Big M has a tendency to do the following:
Use outdated American slang (anywhere from the 1920's to the 60's)
Apply alliterations (using the same letter at the beginning of a word to the adjacent/close word)
Use adverbs, so describing words with the end suffix -ly (i.e. softly, mysteriously, quickly)
Sprinkle in a few made-up words
So let's take the base sentence I provided an shape it to Big M's standards.
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Resources for American slang:
Instead of word vomiting out all the outdated American slang I know, I'm going to link some resources/websites you all can look at and come back to. She mostly uses 20's slang, so the links are centered around that.
1920's slang PDF, alphabetically organized!!!
List of slang phrases originating from the 1920's to the 2010's
Short list of slang flapper's from the 1920's used
So let's edit our base sentence a little, now it's:
"This new jacket I bought is the cat's meow."
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Adding the next layer:
I did mention that Big Mama tended to use both alliterations and adverbs in copious amounts, but don't feel pressured to use both at once in a sentence. If it fits, it fits. If it doesn't, some trimming might be useful. This is why having a base sentence is important, so the intention behind the dialogue isn't lost under all the additions you're adding. So with that in mind, I'm going to alter our example:
"This new jazzy jacket I just bought is the cat's meow."
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The last part:
I save the "fake words" part for last, because beginning with them can make your sentences clunky or not make sense. This part really relies on your personal touch or the context and tone of the situation at hand. The example I gave make Big Mama sound like she's preening about her looks, so I'm going to lean into that.
"This newsie-woozie jazzy jackety I just bought is the cat's meow! Grr!"
And for comparison, here's where we started.
"I look nice in the new jacket I bought."
And well, that's it!!! Hope it was helpful to those that needed it!!!
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txt-trash · 5 months
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feelings for you | choi soobin
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summary: after catching his roommate and his girlfriend making out, Choi Soobin’s life has been in an awkward standstill where he can’t decide if he should still be upset or move on. never one for confrontation, he still works with his ex girlfriend whose suddenly interested in him again all because he’s shown interest in another girl—his new roommate.
➣genre/au: roommate!soobin x roommate!y/n [she/her. female anatomy]
➣19.3k words
warnings: smut. kinda fluff. soobin is a barista. college grads. oc is soobin’s new roommate. one instant of fake dating. soobin is a whiny drunk. soobin’s cheating ex tries to get him back. soobin and oc friends. cute soobin but he’s a switch. dom soobin in the bedroom. soobin doesn’t like confrontation until the end. oral sèx [f receiving, in the kitchen 🤭] protected sèx. missionary. riding. soobin is subby post-sex. he has an unexplored boob kink. big soobin. jealous soobin but only slightly
When it comes to drama, you want no part of it. You keep your circle small and try not to involve yourself with things that don’t concern you but it’s been hard now that you’ve moved in with your new roommate. Originally, you thought it would be less drama to have a guy you didn’t know as a roommate, aside from the obvious worries Soobin had seemed perfect.
He was quiet and a bit shy but he seemed to have good intentions. You’ve heard him through the thin walls and he laughs when he watches something funny or talks on the phone but he’s not obnoxiously loud. He cleans up after himself and gives you your space so this first week has been good.
You’ve recently started rooming together when you answered his ad in search of a roommate and you’re starting to understand why he was looking for one in the first place.
“So she just dumped you?” You asked, unable to help yourself from being nosy. This is the first time since your first meeting that you’re sharing a conversation with him and it’s about his past relationship—evidently to thank for giving you a room for cheap.
“Basically,” Soobin said with a shrug as he stared at the television where his Nintendo Switch was connected. He was currently playing some Jujutsu Kaisen game that managed to grab your attention when you had come out of your cave for a bowl of cereal.
“That’s crazy,” you mumbled to yourself, turning away from him to wash your dishes in the sink.
Apparently, his last roommate moved out very suddenly considering he slept with Soobin’s girlfriend and things just didn’t work out.
“It’s whatever,” Soobin said, so hyper focused on his game, and saying whatever was on his mind with no attention at all, “Just sucks because I still have to work with her.”
“Wait!” You dropped what you were doing, rushing over to where he was and standing in front of the tv, “So you’re saying you still have to see your cheating ex girlfriend who slept with your roommate at work?”
“Yeah,” Soobin said, making you shake your head in disbelief. Still thinking about his sheer bad luck, you finally left him to his game and retreated to your bedroom to wallow in self pity like usual.
It was all too much to talk about for Soobin. His relationship only lasted about six months but he still can’t believe she slept with his roommate. He thought they all had become good friends but to find out she’s secretly going to his roommate’s bedroom while he’s at work. She would come over and stay while he would leave to work and while he thought she was waiting for him to get home, she’s letting his roommate stick it to her! The audacity, honestly, to do that in his home is ridiculous but thankfully his name was the one on the lease and he got to kick the guy out.
At first it was strange to have a girl move in with him considering he’s only ever roomed with guys and he was supposed to be in his ‘I Hate Woman’ era but you’ve turned out to be better than he expected. Of course it’s only been a few days but you both seem to be hyper aware of the fact that this is something new for the both of you. At least he won’t have to worry about you sleeping with his next girlfriend… or does he?
For another hour or so, Soobin played his game, completely engrossed that not even the pounding on the door for two solid minutes broke him from his trance. It wasn’t until you stormed out of your bedroom once again and headed right to the front door did he realize the person at the door was here for him.
You looked at the guy in front of you, a bit stunned to speak at how attractive he was and for a moment the two of you just stood there looking stupefied. The guy took a step back into the hallway and read the number on the wall which was sure enough his best friend’s apartment.
“What are you doing here?” Soobin asked, suddenly appearing behind you with a hand on the door above your head. Once you acknowledged that this stranger was here for your roommate you quietly made your leave, unaware of the new pair of eyes trailing after you.
“There you go, I didn’t know you had it in you to bounce back so fast,” Yeonjun said, looking to your closed door, “And with a baddie at that!”
“What are you talking about? She’s my new roommate,” Soobin said letting his best friend follow him to his bedroom so the two of them wouldn’t be in the living room and possibly make you uncomfortable. “And what are you doing here?”
“I came to cheer you up, I know its been a rough two weeks and I didn’t want you to think I left you at your lowest,” Yeonjun said, flopping himself down on the beanbag in the corner of Soobin’s room. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a couple bottles of Soju. Soobin released a sigh as he checked the time and read how late it was, “First of all it’s a weekday, second I’m not at my lowest.”
“Right… that’s the Denial stage of grief, don’t worry friend, you don’t have to lie to me, I know you,” Yeonjun said as he got up once again and went to the door, “Remember when you lost Odi? You cried for three weeks straight—“
“That is different! Odi was the real love of my life so don’t compare this to the heartbreak I felt for my beloved child!” Soobin yelled but Yeonjun just brushed him off to leave the kitchen and find glasses—and also hopefully run into you again.
Once he was back in the room, Soobin was sniffing Odi’s old blanket for comfort.
“So are you saying your roommate is up for grabs because she really is hot,” Yeonjun asked, beginning to pour two shot glasses with peach flavored Soju. Soobin shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know and considering what happened with my last roommate, I’m not really into inner circle mixing with my friends and roommate.”
“Fair enough.”
Fresh out of school, you’ve been lucky enough to find a small job at the lowest ranking possible while still being in the world of fashion. There certainly are better things you could be doing besides running errands for your boss but as a new college grad with no experience, its not like you could expect more in the fashion world. It honestly wasn’t too bad and your boss wasn’t one of those horrendous bosses that paged their employee at all hours of the day and the pay was good enough to keep a roof over your head so there wasn’t much to complain about.
You surprisingly do have quite a bit of freedom and don’t always feel tied to your work so you’re thankful that you have time to visit your friends. Now that none of you are in school its become harder to fit time to see each other in your schedules but today you got lucky to finish a shoot early and you were able to get off sooner than usual.
Seeing Soobin’s friend the other night worked as a reminder to tell you you’re not a loser and actually have friends to visit too and that’s how you found yourself sitting next to your friend while he played Overwatch at a public game room.
Your computer screen had gone back to sleep mode after you got tired of making random SIMs characters and resorted to spinning in the rolling chair next to him. It was alright for a while but when it had been almost a full hour of this, you couldn’t take it anymore, “When you asked to hang out, I thought we would actually be doing something fun.”
“This is fun, what are you talking about?” Beomgyu asked, eyes locked on the screen making you roll your eyes. You’ve been friends since your freshman year of college so his need to pay more attention to his games than you isn’t a surprise but it is annoying—even though your roommate was kind of the same.
When you didn’t say anything, Beomgyu tried harder, “So hows the new living situation?”
“It’s alright, he seems cool and it’s cheap,” You told him, still spinning absentmindedly.
Beomgyu nodded, “Is he a weirdo? Like do I have to worry about you popping up on a missing persons ad?”
“I hope not, but let me share my location with you just in case,” you joked making him chuckle, “But honestly, he seems like a good guy. It was kind of weird at first since it all seemed rushed so i was obviously worried but he explained why and its all good now”
“Spill the tea, why was he in a hurry to find a roommate?” Beomgyu asked, visibly more interested in your story than before, but still gaming.
“His girlfriend slept with his roommate when he was at work,” You said making Beomgyu gasp dramatically.
“Whoa, what a bitch,” he said, “I would’ve fought my roommate.”
“And you would’ve lost too,” you said to him making him kick your chair causing it to roll back a bit. Your laughter began to slowly die down when you felt the vibrations of your ringing cellphone. You checked the caller, surprised to see the man in question’s name on your screen.
“Hello?”
“Have I ever told you you’re the best roommate I’ve ever had?” Immediately you were taken back by the brightness in his voice. He was obviously being dramatic and you could practically hear the favor he’s going to ask.
“Well it’s not like I have a lot of competition, right?” You asked, hearing the line go silent for a moment making you wonder if you shouldn’t have said that.
Soobin rolled his eyes but wasn’t mad, “Right… So can you do me a favor? I have to meet up with some friends right after work but my phone is about to die and I don’t have a charger. Is there any way you can bring one to my work?”
You thought about it for a moment, “Nobody has one you can borrow?”
“Yes, but there’s no way I’m asking her for it,” he said with an annoyed sigh. He’s already asked everyone and they’ve all pointed him to his ex girlfriend, “Please?”
You looked back at Beomgyu who started playing his game again, forgetting you were even beside him and with a shrug Soobin couldn’t see, you said, “I guess, I’ll be there in a bit.”
Soobin’s attempt to thank you was cut short when you hung up abruptly but he was too relieved to care and tucked his phone back into his pocket.
“Want me to ask Jia if you could borrow it?” His coworker asked when Soobin got back to the counter. He shook his head, “I’ve got someone bringing one.”
He couldn’t believe he forgot his charger and didn’t realize it until he was halfway through his shift with only 15% battery. When he went to the break room in search of his charger, he nearly lost his shit when he couldn’t find it.
At first he hoped his work bestie, Taehyun, would have one but he didn’t and the only other person to ask was his ex. Obviously he wasn’t going to ask her and although he could try and run home after his shift, unless he were to find an outlet at the place he was going with his friends, his phone would be dead anyway.
Soobin’s last resort was to see if there was any way you could just bring it to him. He left it on the entrance table and must have forgot it when he was putting his shoes on and ran out. He was pleasantly surprised that you said yes and it was such a huge relief that he wouldn’t have to ask Jia.
When you walked into the coffee shop you were immediately surrounded by warmth and the smell of espresso beans. It was the first time you ever stepped foot into this cafè but it was calm and aesthetically pleasing, somewhere you can talk with friends or do some work. You followed the scent to the front register where a girl with blonde highlights stood with a polite smile on her face.
With wandering eyes toward the menu above her head, you asked, “Is Soobin here?”
You didn’t notice how that smile fell as she looked at you a little closer and before she could even respond, your roommate came out from behind some door holding a bag of hot to-go cups.
Once Soobin saw you, his heart unintentionally leapt in relief and he quickly set the bag down to go to you. A shy smile spread across his lips, very happy you actually came, “You brought it?”
“Yes,” you said, moving to the side of the counter and closer to where he was, beginning to look through your bag for it. Soobin had his hands on the counter waiting patiently as you two stood a few feet away from where his ex was. “But it wasn’t by the door, you left it on the bed.”
You felt a little awkward to go to his room but he left the door open and you could see it on the bed. Now, you could’ve easily just leant him yours so you wouldn’t invade his privacy but you weren’t going to risk him forgetting it.
“I did?” Soobin asked with a somewhat cute tilt of his head, “Oops, I swear I left it by the door, thanks though.”
When you handed it to him, your hands accidentally touched but neither one of you thought much about it, unaware of the people behind the counter watching the interaction.
“Do you want a drink?” Soobin asked, the least he could do is give you a free drink in thanks plus when he came out he saw you eyeing the menu.
“Sure,” you looked at the menu once again before just saying, “Surprise me.”
Soobin nodded with a smile as he got to making it while you looked down at the pastries in the dessert case.
By the time he was done and gave you the drink, you were ready to leave but before you could, he said, “I won’t be home till late.”
He just meant to give you a heads up that way you knew you had the apartment to yourself and didn’t think about how it would sound to the others.
You left with a goodbye and thanks for the drink and he was left behind to deal with his ex for another three hours.
“So who was that?” Taehyun asked, suddenly popping up beside him, catching him off guard and making him scream. Soobin clutched his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart as he looked at his friend with a dumb expression, “Who?”
Taehyun couldn’t even pretend to be amused and asked again, “The person who you were talking to like ten seconds ago.”
“Oh! That’s Y/n, she’s my new roommate,” Soobin said casually with a shrug of his shoulders.
“That’s it? I thought you had moved on already, I was impressed,” Taehyun said with a chuckle as Soobin rinsed out the froth pitcher, “I think Jia got a little worried there for a second.”
Soobin stopped as he tried to process what his friend was saying, “What do you mean?”
“I’m not gonna lie it kind of looked like the two of you had something going on at first and Jia asked me if I knew her,” Taehyun told him confidently. Jia left on her break without telling either one of them but now they’re comfortably talking without her around.
“It shouldn’t matter to her anyway,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he moved past Taehyun to help the customer in line. Why does it matter to Jia who he talks to and why does she feel the need to ask Taehyun what he knows? She cheated on him. She betrayed his trust so heavily that he doubts she ever truly cared about him so why is she acting interested or concerned?
Does it bother her to see him talking to someone despite everything she’s done?
It was a couple days later when he realized your short visit to his work which should have been in the past, wasn’t.
Like the other night, he was stuck working with Jia and he had been counting every minute that passed until the end of his shift since it started. For hours they worked and talked around each other but never intercepted even when he could feel her eyes on him.
When they closed the cafè and Soobin was ready to run home and escape her presence, she decided to speak up, “Soobin?”
For a second he debated ignoring her so he could walk straight to the bus stop and not worry about seeing her for the rest of the night. It was hard to always act unaffected as if she didn’t completely disintegrate his entire confidence and practically shove new insecurities, he never wanted to show, down his throat.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to her wordlessly, waiting to see what she had to say.
“I…” she bit her lip trying to figure out how to word her thoughts, “I… um, I just wanted to know how you were doing.”
He resisted the urge to scoff as he answered questioning, “I’m good?”
For the past few weeks he’s worked hard to act like he didn't catch Jia and his roommate kissing on his couch so why was she wanting to know now of all times?
As much as he wanted to go home, part of him wanted to see what was up. Jia met his eyes, still taken back to see his harsh gaze which was a huge contrast than the gentle stare she had grown used to in the last six months.
“That’s good,” Jia cleared her throat awkwardly, “Are you, b-by chance seeing anyone?”
The obvious look of disbelief on Soobin’s face had her rushing to explain, “I mean… the person who came to visit you the other night. Is she, yknow, are you seeing her?”
“You mean Y/n?” Soobin asked with a tilt of his head. Why was she asking about you?
Jia stood there silently trying to figure out what to say next. What was her point? What was she trying to find out by asking him that? Had she expected him to still be mourning their relationship? Does she have a right to feel worried that he’s moved on so quickly after what she did?
Before she could even try to word a shitty excuse for why she asked in the first place, Soobin had already stopped paying attention to her when he got a text.
you: ordered too much pizza
you: I’ll die if I eat more
you: pls take some
For some reason your sequence of texts brought a slight smile on his face. He put a thumbs up on the message and looked at Jia, “Night.”
He left her standing there alone as he ran home to his roommate who was slowly beginning to like more and more. He doesn’t even mean it romantically because clearly now’s not the best time for him but he likes you as a roommate and possible friend? You’ve slowly begun to help each other out and you don’t completely avoid shared spaces so you’ve been interacting a little more. He wouldn’t call you a friend just yet but you’re an easy person to live with and he doesn’t have that many people around him so it’s nice talking to you either way.
The two of you text here and there but never about anything important, usually you ask how to fix the hot water and he sends you anime reels he thinks you might enjoy. If he’s up for it, he’ll ask if you want any pastries he’s supposed to throw out.
It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.
It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.
By the time Soobin got home, you had moved from the dining room to the couch where you engrossed yourself into some animated movie laying on your side. You barely raised your head to acknowledge him but he smiled anyway as he headed to the kitchen, “Thanks for sharing.”
“No problem, I overestimated how much I could eat in one setting,” You mumbled in a tired, raspy tone, “How was work?”
Soobin didn’t bother heating up his slice, or even get a plate, and he took a big bite out of the cold pizza, walked out the kitchen to talk, “It was alright, kinda slow aside from some teens who wouldn’t stop giggling at me.”
“Question, was that girl from the other night your ex or someone else?” You asked sitting up a bit when you noticed he was trying to sit down.
“Yeah that’s her, Jin, she also asked about you tonight,” Soobin said seeing it as a joke, “Taehyun said she seemed jealous when I was talking to you.”
Your brows furrowed with confusion, “Did you tell her I was your roommate?”
He shook his head, taking a moment to chew before saying, “No, I didn’t see why it mattered.”
“True, that’s so weird,” You released a sigh, resting your elbow on the arm rest and leaning your head on your hand, “Wow, no offense but your ex girlfriend is a bitch.”
He couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face as you said that but he couldn’t disagree—he just would’ve used kinder words. It was kind of funny though and for some reason hearing you say that made him feel better. His other friends who know about it don’t really ask and they don’t explicitly tell him to his face how they felt about his former girlfriend. It just feels nice to have someone listen and be on his side, it made him want to open up more.
“Sorry, I really don’t want to seem mean, I just think its kind of bullshit for her to act jealous because you’re talking to someone. Like, why does she care who I am or how you know me when she cheated on you,” You said, unable to help yourself from speaking your mind, “Even if I was someone you’re talking to, why is she concerned about it? Did she expect you to just always be hung on her despite what she did?”
Soobin had to think about that for a second. That’s the same thing he had originally thought too but he tried to ignore it because it seemed wrong. He thought that maybe he was reading into it too much and Jia wasn’t actually jealous but now that you’re saying it too, he can’t help but wonder. She also talked to him tonight and even at work when they didn’t speak, she was looking at him constantly. She even tried helping him once but he just blew her off to do it on his own. It’s like tonight she was trying to remind him she was still around and that confused him.
“Do you think that’s true though?” He asked. You shrugged trying not to seem too invested but it was too late. Soobin is a good guy and now that you’ve met the girl, you just can’t wrap your mind around what she did. Cheating is already a huge betrayal but to do it with someone Soobin knew and lived with? To do it in the apartment, Soobin paid for? That’s the lowest of the low.
“I honestly do.”
What you said stayed on his mind for days. It didn’t help that Jia was trying to talk to him at work and last night she looked at his instagram story despite the fact they unfollowed each other. He just doesn’t get it. What did she want with him now?
When he came into work today, there was his favorite drink in his locker that he knew was from Jia because Taehyun had told her. Thankfully he wasn’t working with her now but Taehyun had filled him in. Apparently, she came in with drinks and he saw her putting it in Soobin’s locker.
“I don’t get her,” Soobin said with a huff of frustration, “Why does she keep doing these things?”
“Honestly, she probably regrets fucking up and wants to get on your good side again,” Taehyun said as he made a hot matcha latte for a customer that Soobin was ringing up.
“But why?”
“What if she wants to get you back?” Taehyun asked as he finished the drink and handed it to the customer. He turned back to Soobin, realization hitting him like a truck and he gasped, “Oh my god. She probably thinks you’ve moved on already and wants to get you back! That’s really bold of her to think you’d fall for it, right?”
“Right. You don’t think she is though, right? Why would she cheat on me just to try and get back with me?” Soobin asked and his voice was laced with confusion.
“Because she probably thinks it’s going to work and you’ll fall for it. God I knew based off her MBTI that she was going to try something, I could see the determination in her eyes when she saw Y/n.”
Soobin couldn’t help but scoff with a laugh. Why were you the reason Jia suddenly wanted to notice him again? You and Soobin were nothing but roommates, the only time you ever talk is during your daily debriefings when you’re getting midnight snacks. You don’t text and you don’t do anything together so it’s comical that you apparently worried his ex girlfriend enough based off one interaction to try and get him back—he wouldn’t do it, he should add.
“Wait! You know what you should do?” Taehyun dropped a itcher into the sink haphazardly as the idea came to mind, “Imagine if you started dating Y/n and made it known to Jia that you’ve moved on. She’s only putting in effort again because she probably thinks she can get you back. You gotta make her think you’re over her.”
“First of all, I am over her and second, Y/n and I don’t like each other like that,” Soobin said, making Taehyun roll his eyes.
“I don’t mean like actually date, I mean… make Jia think you are that way she can back off and won’t think she has a chance,” Taehyun said.
Soobin froze, looking at his friend in disbelief. Taehyun said it so casually like what he said wasn’t a big deal at all and Soobin just couldn’t believe it. He was completely lost by the whole and after an awkward silence between the two he just shook his head feeling a blush rise in his cheeks as he said, “That is a really bad idea.”
It was an awful idea and too much work. Soobin didn’t need to prove anything to anyone and why would he make Jia believe he was over her when he knew he was? She could try and talk to him all she wants but it won’t make a difference to him, honestly. It is kind of annoying that neither Taehyun or Yeonjun believed he was over Jia and now it seems like Jia doesn’t think so too? Why else would she be making this much effort to talk to him again?
Taehyun’s words were stuck in his head now and it made no sense. Why would he drag you into his problems and why would you want to do it? You probably have things going on in your own life that there's no reason to bother you with his. Sure, you’ve been fun to talk to since you’re not his usual circle of friends but that’s it. You don’t know each other well enough to do that.
“Hey,” when he got home that night, he could tell by the tone of your voice that something was off. You were in the kitchen washing some dishes when he walked in.
“Hey,” Soobin greeted as he began taking his shoes off at the door, “How was your day?”
“It was alright. I almost cried in the bathroom because my boss yelled at me for getting her the wrong milk in her coffee,” you said with a shrug, “And yours?”
“Oh,” Soobin said, blinking slowly trying to figure out if he should ask if you were okay or just say his part. “Um, it was nice, I worked with my friend but he said the craziest thing I had ever heard and it threw me off.”
You dried your hands off with the towel and walked past him, heading to your room but still holding conversation, “What’d he say?”
“He said that I should pretend to date you,” the words completely slipped from his and the second they were said, he felt his body tense up and his face go blank. You stopped at your door, turning to look at his confused state when he suddenly rushed to say, “I mean… She’s been trying to talk lately and I don’t know what she’s doing but it’s like she thinks we can get back together.”
He bit his lip and he just couldn’t stop talking, “So, Taehyun said I needed to make her think I was over her and that I should get your help but I thought it was an awful idea. Like, I don’t need to prove anything to her if anyone else and there’s no way you would ever do something lik—I would never ask you too and I know I should stop talking about it but you asked and for some reason I always just tell you what’s going and I can’t stop, oh my god.”
He covered his face with his hands, unable to see the way a smile played on your lips at his rambling. With a deep sigh you opened your bedroom door, “Goodnight.”
He waved goodbye, still refusing to look at you and stormed to his room in embarrassment. You got in yours and laid in bed where you got on your phone and immediately told your friends.
you: I think my roommate is weird
beomgyu: why
you: idk, just strange
kai: aww, ur twinning w/him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)
you: … ( •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )
beomgyu: (⸝⸝⸝◉⸝ 。 ⸝◉⸝⸝⸝)
you: anyway, he was talking about fake dating like this is a wattpad story
kai: do it, his ex is a bitch
Lately, it’s been getting hard for Soobin to look forward to the café. It’s such a huge contrast to the work he does at his internship that going to the cafe sometimes feels relaxing and not like work at all but these past few weeks have been dreadful. It’s very hard to ignore someone who hurt you when you have to work with her. It’s a constant reminder and everyone seems to always point it out. Taehyung was right, she was trying to do something with him again and it’s becoming even more noticeable everytime he goes to work.
“Are you going to Yuna’s party this weekend?” Jia asked him. The shop had been slow so he busied himself with closing duties, hoping he could get done sooner and meet his friend.
“Probably,” Soobin answered absently.
“Oh, maybe I’ll see you there,” Jia said with a nervous laugh, “I gotta be honest, Soobin it’s strange being so distant.”
Soobin scoffed, looking at her in disbelief. What was wrong with her and why did she act like there isn’t a cause for this distance.
Just as he was debating telling her how he felt, the bell above the door chimed and they both got ready to greet them with a customer service smile. His soon turned into a real smile despite his confusion at the surprise, “What are you doing here?”
“I want coffee?” Your tone was questioning but light as you got to the counter, trying not to look at the girl again.
It’s been a bit awkward since Soobin made that weird comment the other night but you’re tired of acting bothered by it. It was harmless and your friends thought it was funny [ and a good idea? ] but you just thought it was bizarre. You think it’s strange and although you wanted to avoid Soobin it’s very hard when you get to know him. He’s kind of cute actually—not looks wise but personality wise.
“Nice,” Soobin said with a nod of his head although he made no move to ring you up or make you a drink. You looked from him down to the register, “Can I order yet?”
“Oh, yes,” he cleared his throat awkwardly and waited for you to say something. Once he rang up your drink, he gave a discount and left to make it while you paid.
Honestly, he thought you were mad at him for what he said. He still has no idea why he brought up what Taehyun said but the way you ignored him let him know it was a mistake at the time. He’s been worried for days that he crossed the line but now you’re here talking to him like everything is normal. It makes him feel better.
You could feel Jia’s eyes on you and this time around it bothered you. Why was she glaring at you like you were the problem? You don’t even know her and it’s very obvious there’s nothing between you and Soobin. Why would it matter to her if there was or wasn’t?
“Are you off already?” Soobin asked handing you your drink over the counter.
You nodded, “Kind of? I still have some stuff to finish up but the WiFi at home is lagging.”
“Just work here then,” Soobin said motioning toward the tables, “Connect to the internet and keep me company.”
“How? You’re working,” you pointed out.
“Nobody’s here,” Soobin said, completely dismissing Jia, “Please?”
Now that he knows you’re not bothered by him it’s been like a confidence boost to try and befriend you again. He just needed the assurance that you weren’t going to ditch him and move out so for you to come and talk to him felt good. He was worried he scared you off.
With a dramatic sigh, you pretended to give in, “Oh, I guess I could do that. I’ll just stay a bit.”
“Or you could stay till I’m off and we can go home together,” Soobin said but the sound of the espresso machine grumbling stole your attention instead. Jia was cleaning it already and had no problem cutting your conversation short with the loudness of it.
She was clearly annoyed with you being here and you just couldn’t understand it. Why was she so mad when she’s the one who ruined her relationship with Soobin? Soobin deserved so much better and it annoys you that she’s the one upset now.
“Maybe, who knows if I want to wait that long,” you said playfully, watching him leave the counter to talk to you. You were the only one in the shop and he didn’t care either way, you’re his saving grace from spending this last hour with Jia trying to talk to him.
“Please? I’ll buy you food on the way,” he said, feeling your eyes on him.
He wore a cream colored crew neck and light washed baggy jeans, a brown apron tied at his waist and even his glasses tonight. You don’t see him in his glasses often so it was a nice surprise, “Alright, you got me. I’ll stay.”
What really made you decide on staying wasn’t his begging or his offer to buy you food but it was actually knowing he probably wanted to avoid any more alone time with his ex. You already pitied the guy’s circumstances and you couldn’t just leave him to suffer while he begged for your help.
So you stayed, you had to remind Soobin every now and then to get back to work when he would lose track of time telling you whatever was on his mind and forget a customer was around. Jia did not acknowledge you at all, not until the very end when she came up to you and with a snarky tone said, “Heads up, we close in ten minutes.”
“Okay,” you flashed her a polite but strained smile, “I’m just waiting for Soobin.”
“I know, but you’ll have to leave when we’re closing,” she said bluntly.
“Really? Thanks for the heads up,” you put your headphones back on and turned your attention to your laptop, making it known you weren’t going to talk to her anymore and with a slight roll of her eyes, she left.
After a minute or so, you closed your laptop and put your things away. You got up from the table as Soobin was coming out with things he was planning on restocking and when he saw you get up, he practically dropped it all to go to you, “What are you doing?”
“I’m just going to wait outside,” you said with a shrug, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.
“Bu—“
“Soobin, can you start cleaning out the espresso machines?” Jia asked with an annoyed tone and with a huff in irritation, he watched you make your leave till he was alone once again.
He didn’t bother talking to her as he finished up his chores and the cafè was filled with an uncomfortable silence the remainder of the time. He’s been cleaning all evening but Jia wants to remind him about the espresso machines just because she sees him talking to you. It’s crazy and Soobin doesn’t know how to speak up.
He has so much he wants to say but then he gets worried he’s being rude or overthinking things that he ends up just staying silent anyway. That’s probably why his relationship with Jia was so rocky from the beginning—and also why he didn't argue when he caught her. He just doesn’t want to be in uncomfortable situations.
You had honestly debated just going home despite Soobin wanting you to stay. It was freezing cold out and you only had a thin sweater that did nothing to keep you warm. You had every right to just go home but he asked you so nicely and Jia was kind of rude when she tried kicking you out and it makes your pettiness want to show through.
When Soobin and Jia finally finished closing, she waited around while she locked the door looking like she had something to say but he wouldn’t even turn to look at her. Instead, he looked around for you, worried you had left already but he found you sitting on the curb, surprising him in the process. Jia didn’t seem to see you there either and it was hard for her to hide the look of displeasure when you got up.
“So what are you feeding me?” You asked, hugging your arms around yourself to fight off the cold wind from the winter air. Soobin didn’t hesitate to take off his jacket, leaving him only in a crewneck and pulling it around you.
“Something warm?” He asked, looking at the tip of your nose which was a deep shade of red. The two of you left without so much as a goodbye and when you were out of earshot he added, “Also, thanks for waiting. I thought you would’ve left and now I feel bad that you had to wait outside. I would’ve said something but you were already leaving and I assumed you got mad and went home.”
“I was going to,” you said honestly as he held the door open to some Korean hotpot tent restaurant, “But I decided against it. Also, I’ve got something to say.”
“Oh yeah?” He asked, sitting down at a table across from you.
“I can tell you struggle a little bit speaking your mind and she talks to you like she still has a say over what you do,” you said to him, “And she was kind of rude? Like, she didn’t say anything mean to me but it’s obvious she doesn’t like me for talking to you and I don’t think that’s fair. So, is there any way we can make her know you don’t want her without you having to tell her harshly?”
It took him a moment to process everything you had said in such a short time and he wondered if you had said anything at all. Maybe he imagined you saying that because it’s been in his mind lately and he couldn’t see what you would gain anything from it so why would you help him?
He should just tell you it’s not something you have to do. If you were to go along with a charade just so that it looks like he’s moved on from his ex. He knows he has, he just can’t be mean. All he can do is ignore her but that doesn’t seem to be stopping Jia from approaching him. No, it still doesn’t mean he has to drag you into something useless.
“Well, there’s a party this weekend that I know she’ll be at.”
Pulling it off was harder than you had originally thought and there’s very specific reasons for this.
One, appearing as anything aside from friends or roommates was hard considering you were still at an awkward stage of friendship. You knew Soobin and how he looked in the mornings but you’ve no clue what his favorite movie is or favorite color or even his zodiac sign. You knew his ex girlfriend was a cheating bitch but you don’t know what his internship is or what his major was in college so when someone at the party asked you things about Soobin… you had no idea what to say.
Two, you’re not sure if the chemistry is there. So far, you don’t think you’re pulling it off. Sure, Soobin has remained at your side since the two of you got here but you think you both look stiff and nervous. Even when someone expects him to introduce you, it feels weird and you’re not sure how close you’re supposed to seem.
“You two suck,” Taehyun said [the first time he had ever spoken to you too], “Put some flavor into this. Hold hands, act cute, give me emotion because I can tell you right now, Jia won’t think she’s got competition.
Soobin rolled his eyes, “Shh, this is harder than we thought it would be— a-nd it’s not about competition.”
“Really? Because Yuna asked me who you brought because Jia was asking her, something about you not wanting to talk to her?” Taehyun said with a chuckle, “It’s like she’s completely forgotten what happened.”
You hadn’t spoken up once this entire time but Soobin was beginning to look visibly uncomfortable talking about his ex in a crowded place. Usually he’s open when you’re at home and you’re the only one listening to him but right now he keeps glancing around anxiously.
“Should we get a drink?” You asked him suddenly, watching him nod his head eagerly in an attempt to leave his friend who said too many things he didn’t want to hear right now.
“Sorry for him, he just says things sometimes and—“
“It’s alright,” you laughed softly, making your way to the kitchen where the countertop was filled with various bottles. Soobin was right behind you, not wanting to lose you in the crowd.
He doesn’t understand you. You’re so nice to him and he doesn’t know what to make of it. You don’t question him or make him talk when he doesn’t want to. You seem to have some understanding of what he wants and he doesn’t even have to tell you anything.
He knows you’re just helping him out so he doesn’t look like a sore loser at a party he knows his ex-girlfriend is at but for the moment, he wants to forget Jia is here. Can he just have one night where his past relationship isn’t brought up by Taehyun or Yeonjun or anybody else? Can he just pretend like the two of you are here as friends just hanging out and not because you somewhat pitied his circumstances?
“You look pretty tonight,” the words slipped before he could stop himself and he immediately turned red in embarrassment, “I mean… yknow…”
“Thanks,” you said casually as you filled a cup of whatever interested you, “I actually put in effort, just for you.”
You didn’t think much about what you said even though you could see the blush in his cheeks. It was a bit surprising actually. At first, you thought Soobin was just some distant gamer you shared an apartment with but little by little you’ve gotten to know him more. He’s still shy like you first assumed but he’s also kind of cute, as a friend you mean. It would be weird to think of him as anything but that considering what he’s gone through lately.
He couldn’t help but smile, trying to hide it by biting his lower lip but his dimple still showed through and for a second he just stood there looking at you. You handed him a drink and as he opened his mouth to say something else, a familiar feminine voice came from behind him.
“Soobin? Is this where you’ve been hiding all night?” Yuna asked as she entered the kitchen with a smile, “I kept hearing everyone say you were here but I couldn’t find you. Hey buddy.”
“Hey Yuna,” Soobin said with a smile. Yuna was one of the few other baristas from work and someone he did enjoy working with. She was bubbly and nice so they got along easily but she’s more friends with Jia than him. He still can’t tell if she knew Jia cheated on him or not and he hasn’t bothered saying anything. She knew something happened to make them break up but neither have gone into it for different reasons. He didn’t want to tell the whole world he was cheated on and Jia didn’t want to seem like the lying cheater she was.
“This is Y/n,” Soobin said suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward his side, “She’s my uh, um…”
“Friend,” you said, emphasizing on the word that it sounded like it had a double meaning and he couldn’t tell if you did it on purpose. Did you mean friend, like how he’s friends with Yeonjun and Taehyun? Or did you mean, friend, like something more?
While he tried to decipher it, Yuna seemed to pick up on the tone much faster than he did and her smile strained slightly. “Really? That’s, uh, that’s great. Have you seen Jia yet?”
“Who?” You asked Soobin, looking cutely confused, feigning innocence as you touched his arm.
“The girl from work,” Soobin said despite you already knowing. The room began to feel hot as Yuna stared at you and Soobin couldn’t take the heat. He didn’t like the way it seemed like she was trying to pick you apart with her eyes—probably seeing if there was anything she should tell Jiw and he couldn’t take it. It had him taking big sips of his drink to satiate his dry mouth, completely ignoring the heavy taste of alcohol.
“Binnie,” your use of a nickname nearly sent him in a spiral, it was the first time you’ve ever called him as such and there was a possibility it was all for show.
“Yeah?” He cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring Yuna to turn to you.
“Don’t drink so fast, okay?” Concern was evident in your tone but you didn’t seem displeased. You just worried about having to haul a 6-foot-something drunk man back to your apartment when he wasn’t your boyfriend.
He looked down at his empty cup, realizing he really did chug back the full drink quickly and the thought alone made him dizzy. He’s usually good at knowing his limit but he’s been nervous all night. When you first got here he got a drink that emptied out right after he saw Taehyun for the first time. It was before Taehyun had even approached you two because he was in the middle of some game but it made Soobin nervous. He had to tell his friend ahead of time that he was bringing you but then the thought of Taehyun saying something he should had him anxious and he chugged his drink then too.
Now, Yuna’s here bringing up Jia once again and on top of that you’ve called him a friend but your tone sounded different than usual and you held his arm and called him Binnie—and it all just became too much.
What was wrong with him?
“Soobin?” You said his name a little while after the kitchen encounter and you sounded so distant despite standing right next to him. Just by looking at him, you could tell he was at least tipsy.
His cheeks were flushed, his eyes a bit lazy and he just seemed less stiff than earlier. He’s also leaning into you a bit, no longer caring who saw or what people thought of it but more so for a sense of comfort as his vision blurred with the alcohol in his system. “Hm?”
“You okay?” You asked as he blinked slowly, “You don’t seem as nervous anymore.”
“Oh! Um,” he looked down at you and how close the two of you had grown, making him grin, “I’m fine, I’m with you.”
“Okay… but let me know when you’re ready to call it a night,” you said with a small yawn and he couldn’t help but look to your lips, blinking away the thought as you pressed your lips closed and looked off in the distance.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts a bit but right now everything seemed fuzzy. The night had been fine at first. He hadn’t been nervous at all and was actually a bit excited to get a chance to hang out with you [aside from the night you stopped to get food] and he had been thinking on how it would go all day.
When the two of you got to the party he had met up with Taehyun and he had a good time with him too so the only time he ever felt uncomfortable was when he was reminded of the situation. Talking about Jia didn’t bother him as much as the reminder that everyone knew about it did. On top of that, anytime someone looked at you or asked who you were, he would get nervous. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him.
Just as you were going to ask him one more time if he was okay, you felt a sudden weight pressed against your shoulder as Soobin leaned into your side. He felt heavy against your arm and his head dipped low enough that his face was pressing into yours, “I think I’m ready.”
“Ready?” You ask, feeling your heart race as the warmth of his breath fanned your neck and his hand brushed against yours like he was debating reaching for yours. When you looked at him, it was finally noticeable that whatever he drank tonight had taken effect and he was finally drunk. He’s more quiet than you expected. His cheeks are red with a blush and his lips a bit pouty making him look a little cute.
He nodded his head aggressively, “Let’s go home.”
You didn’t question his decision and took his hand in yours when he swayed in his step and looked around for his friend so they could at least say their goodbyes. Every now and then you would look back to see how he was hanging but he seemed perfectly content having a blank mind and being dragged behind you.
“Soob? You good there, buddy?” Taehyun asked once he saw his friend’s state of drunkenness and placed a soothing hand on his tall friend’s back.
“Yesh,” Soobin said, leaning into your back, “Going home.”
Taehyun looked over at you with concerned eyes, “Are you alright? Sorry, I think he had too much to drink.”
“I’m good, the last bus will pass soon so we’ll just get home that way,” You told him, scanning the people around at the party, eyes catching on the one person you didn’t care to see.
Jia didn’t shy back from your short eye contact and she looked far from happy at the way Soobin was clinging to you—something he never did with her. To be fair, Jia was usually the one out at parties and getting wasted so she didn’t give him many chances to be the drunk one with no worries.
It bothered her to see how comfortable Soobin had gotten with another girl after their break up.
“Alright, i’ll give you my number and just let me know if you two get home safe,” Taehyun said before leaning closer into you, “Also, Soobin really likes being around you. Be safe.”
His friend left after that and for a moment you thought about what he just said, wondering how he meant it and if you were too hard into it.
“Y/n,” Soobin whined against you, “Home, please.”
“Oh my god, okay, let's go,” You said with a small laugh as he followed after you as got to the door.
Soobin was tired, he always got sleepy when he drank too much and when the two of you got on the empty bus, he couldn’t help but rest his head against the window. You didn’t pay much attention to him on the ride home but every now and then he could feel your eyes on him probably wondering how he was holding up. Going up to your apartment was another challenge trying to drag Soobin up the stairs without stumbling up the steps.
“Thanks,” Soobin yawned cutely as he rubbed his tired eyes, waving you goodnight.
You went to your room silently, flashing him a smile as you left and once your door was shut, you immediately began to undress. It had been a long night and all you wanted was to crawl in bed, scroll in your phone and go to sleep. You didn’t drink as much as Soobin did so the alcohol didn’t have the same effect on you but you were still tired. It was nice getting to hang out with him for a while despite the reason or who was around. At some points you were able to forget who was there but when you would catch sight of Jia and think back to Soobin, you just couldn’t understand why she would ever do that to someone.
Now changed into your pajamas, too tired to do anything more, you were halfway crawling on your bed when there was a soft thud on your door and a small whine of your name, “Y/n.”
“Yes, Soobin?” You asked with a sigh and a smile as you heard your roommate on the other side of the door, “I thought you were going to bed.”
“I’m not tired, can I come in?” He asked and you could practically see the pout on his lips. It was about midnight so you should just turn him away but you could hear the shuffling on the other side of the door and before you knew it, you were unlocking your bedroom door and letting him in.
“What’s wrong?” You asked as he hesitated to sit on the edge of your bed.
“Nothing,” he answered honestly, “I just… I wanted to see what you were up to, were you going to bed?”
“I was probably just going to be on my phone a bit,” you laid down on your usual spot reaching for the remote to your television, “What should I watch?”
You didn’t outwardly tell him to lay down next to you but the way you moved your things to your side, it was easy to assume you didn’t mind. Soobin was still hesitant to lay down with his back against your headboard but once you made no sign to kick him out, he let himself relax as you scrolled through Netflix.
“Something scary,” Soobin said, barely paying attention as he looked around your bedroom. This was the first time he had stepped into it since you moved in and it looks completely different than what it did before. He couldn’t explain into words but it looked like a room you would have. It was like an insight to who you are from the pictures on your walls to the clothes by your closet. It was cozy and your bed was so soft he found himself yawning.
“You surprised me tonight,” You told him as you finally settled on a movie about a haunted house, “First because you were surprisingly popul—“
“Why’s that a surprise?” Soobin asked, slightly more alert as he looked at you, “I’m a catch.”
“You are,” you said casually, “I just meant… a lot of people like you.”
He couldn’t help but bite his lips at your words. He didn’t mean to seem overly confident or anything but he knew he was somewhat likable. He tried being nice and friendly to everyone and clearly sometimes that didn’t work in his favor when it came to relationships but he’s always had people around him. Not everyone he would consider a real friend but the ones he have right now or the real deal.
Taehyun and him got along from the moment they met at work. Soobin’s the one who trained Taehyun when he first started and they just got super close from there.
Yeonjun has been his best friend for as long as he can remember and they even fight like an old bickering couple too.
Sometimes they don’t understand him—like when they thought he was still upset over Jia, and he needs a break from them but that’s where you came along. You’re one of his friends now too so does that mean you also like him?
As a friend?
As more?
No, not as more. He was getting ahead of himself.
“Don’t say those things to me, Y/n,” Soobin whined, hiding behind a pillow.
“Why?” You asked with a small laugh as he curled himself up on your bed, looking every bit out of place in your Sanrio bed sheets and his tall frame.
“Because, they’ll get to my head,” he confessed, sitting up a little to regain himself, “So what’s the other reason you were surprised by me?”
You hummed in thought, “You’re surprisingly cute when you’re drunk, and really clingy.”
It was clear that throughout the time it took to get home, Soobin had sobered up enough to have clearer thoughts and you just wanted to be honest. It’s what you believed and you hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way and think you were hitting on him. Sure, Soobin is attractive for many reasons and you enjoy hanging out with him but just think about the circumstances. He’s your roommate and he just got out of a relationship with someone who cheated on him.
“I mean,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, acting like you were watching the movie, “I bet you really sold it to Jia that you were seeing someone. There’s no way she’ll try and get you to go out with her again now.”
At the reminder, Soobin seemed to sigh, “Yeah.”
For a second he had thought you were going to say something else. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling at the moment and it worries him but at the same time it’s exciting and he wished he didn’t react this way to you and so soon.
“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked him, letting out a small yawn as you made yourself more comfortable indeed the covers.
“Only in the afternoon,” Soobin said, looking over at you hopefully, “Why? Do you want to do something?”
“I have to work, if I get off early I might stop by,” You said, looking back at him too. You could see the small dimple in his cheek become more prominent as he resisted the urge to smile, nodding his head.
With a small sigh, Soobin checked the time and sat up, “Okay, I’ll let you sleep.”
For some reason he wanted to do or say more but he’s not sure what he would’ve been able to say in the first place. You got up after him so you could close the door on his way out but at the door, you both stopped to look at each other.
“I did have fun tonight,” you told him truthfully.
Soobin stood at the door looking down at you with his lip pulled between his teeth. It was becoming more obvious that he liked being around you. He thought you were pretty and fun to be with and you have yet to make him feel poorly. He’s very aware of the fact that he’s only been single for a little over a month but he can’t deny the sudden race in his heart when you’re around.
It scares him to think he might be feeling something toward you at such an awkward time.
“Goodnight.”
Things slowly began to change between you two and neither one of you knew what to do about that sort of thing. On one hand, Soobin wanted to see if you would like to spend more time together but he also wasn’t sure if he was ready. It has nothing to do with how he felt toward his ex girlfriend and more with how he felt at possibly seeing someone again.
Jia was a major push to his confidence and definitely raised his insecurities and trust issues so he thought he would stay single for a while. Plus, you were his roommate which could pose an entirely different problem and yet none of that has helped him stop thinking about you. It’s been days from the party and he knows hes been slightly more in your bubble than before but its only because he doesn’t know how to read you.
How is he supposed to know how you might feel about him and how should he feel about it?
“You’re overthinking it,” Yeonjun said as he sat across from Soobin and Yeonjun who were in their matching brown aprons as part of the cafe’s unofficial uniform. The cafe was empty aside from a couple college students grossly immersed in their studies to care that the only two workers were currently siting at a table with a friend. Every now and then the three would feel the eyes of some high school girl gawking at them through the shop windows but none dared to enter making the cafe slow with traffic.
“If you like her, why can’t you at least try?” Yeonjun asked him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Because she’s my roommate and what if that just messes things up completely?” Soobin asked.
“I mean, Y/n seemed pretty into you at the party,” Taehyun said with a shrug of his shoulders.
Soobin shook his head, “No, she was just being nice. I was drunk and probably embarrassed myself so there’s no way she liked it—well, okay she said it was cute, but do you think she meant it?”
Yeonjun reached across the small table and pinched Soobin’s cheek hard, pouting his lips in a kiss as he gushed over his friend, “Of course she meant it, just look at you. Who can resist this bunny face?”
Just as Soobin was ready to fight Yeonjun off, the familiar bell above the door rang and a loud burst of energy came through the door.
“Kai, I swear to god, if you don’t stop I’m going to bite you,” a guy said as he smacked another guy off and the two cafe workers couldn’t help but snap into attention and get behind the counter.
“Y/n,” Kai said with a forced whiny voice, “Save me.”
“Don’t touch me,” you pushed him off as you looked around the cafè for Soobin.
Just a couple feet away from you, he stood there with his lips parted in surprise before letting his eyes drift off to the two guys behind you. A smile spread across his lips as he left Taehyun and Yeonjun to go to you, “Hi, what are you doing here?”
“We were just at the arcade across the street so I figured why not stop for a drink?” You said with a gentle smile that had him practically giggling.
“Oh, so you didn’t come just to see me?” Soobin teased, a flirty undertone in his voice. He couldn’t help but glance back to the guys, curious who they were.
Since you moved in, you haven’t brought anyone home and he assumed you were single since you offered to go with him to a party—and let him on your bed, but now he’s not sure. What if everything you were doing really was as a friend and he’s just overthinking it all?
“Sadly no, I really need coffee,” you joked as he went to the counter to get you a drink. Taehyun was helping the two guys while you talked to Soobin and he couldn’t wait to be done so he can ask who they were.
“O-oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly as he began to make it, ringing you up and trying to apply some sort of discount so you wouldn’t have to pay full price. Before he could tell you your total,one of the guys who was with you gave him cash to pay.
Beomgyu placed his hand on your shoulder as he leaned down to whisper, “Is this him?”
You just nodded your head ignoring his growing smile as he thanked Soobin for his change back and ruffled your hair, “Hurry up, I need real food.”
“Are you gonna be home later?” Soobin asked as the guys left through the door, waiting outside but looking in and it was clear they were talking about you. He wanted to say he was just curious for no reason but part of him wanted to know if you would be out with them.
“Probably, not till late though, I think we’re probably gonna go have a drink or two,” you said with a shrug and this was the perfect time for Soobin to ask who they were. Were they just friends? Was one of them something more? Have you been in any relationship?
“Let me know if you want me to pick you up,” Soobin said, “I-I mean, yknow, repay the favor from the other night that I embarrassed myself.”
“You didn’t,” you rolled your eyes looking around. Your friends were waiting and you had your drink so you should’ve left by now but instead you’re looking at his two friends. Taehyun had gone with Yeonjun again and it’s the first time in a while you saw Yeonjun. When you first met him he had gone over to the apartment and you had thought he was attractive. You still do but not in the same context anymore. Taehyun waved at you enthusiastically which you did back and looked back at Soobin, “It was cute, but should I call you tonight then? Or will you be asleep.”
“I’ll hear you come home either way, so come say hi even if it’s late,” Soobin said, making you nod your head.
“Okay, well I have to go before they come and drag me out,” you told him as you pointed to your two friends who were getting annoyed waiting out there.
“Y/n,” he called for you but when you looked back at him, he couldn’t bring himself to ask, “Nevermind, be safe.”
Soobin waved you goodbye and watched you leave with the guy from earlier wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
“God, Bin, you can’t even hide it,” Yeonjun said with a chuckle as Soobin joined them again, “You looked jealous.”
“What?” Soobin looked at him with big doe eyes, looking every bit clueless as he felt, “No, I just—I don’t, um, Y/n’s… did I?”
They both nodded their heads and Taehyun said, “Yes but not too much. We noticed because we’re your best friends but I’m sure none of them could tell. You were all smiley and blush which is major cringecore with Y/n but any time you looked at those guys, you’d glare.”
“I don’t glare,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he stared at the window, “Besides, I don’t know if one of them is dating Y/n so there’s no point in doing anything now.”
“You didn’t bother to ask!?” Yeonjun and Taehyun asked at the same time that it caused Soobin to jump, feeling startled.
“I’m sorry but if I was into someone and I was in their bed and then I see them talking to someone, you better believe I’m going to ask who!” Yeonjun added, making Soobin groan in frustration that he couldn’t just man up and ask.
It’s clear there’s no point in pretending he isn’t catching feelings for you and he has to figure out how to tell you. The only problem is if you reject him, he won’t be sure how to live with you anymore—especially if you were to date someone.
He should’ve just acted curious and asked who they were.
“You guys are so annoying,” you said with a groan as you followed after your two best friends who were fighting down the street.
“Soobin and Y/n, kissing in a tree! K-I-S-S—ow, ow, ow!” Kai cried out as you pulled his ear.
“This is why I don’t tell you guys anything,” you said when they laughed. Kai was doing that creepy evil loud laugh he always does and Beomgyu is just instigating it.
“First of all, you tell us everything,” Beomgyu pointed out, “And what’s the problem? Pretty sure he likes you too.”
“Oh my god, I don’t like Soo—I mean, he’s my roommate, it would be weird,” you said, “Plus, he just got out of a relationship.”
“Yeah like two months ago or something, and she cheated on him,” Kai said before clutching his chest, “You could heal his heart.”
“Corny,” Beomgyu yelled and the two laughed again.
“Whatever, let’s just go eat.”
It took a lot of convincing from his friends for him to actually agree to just go for it. He had been debating it for a while now and each day that passed where he gets to see you first thing in the morning or last thing at night just reminds him he wants to keep seeing you. He’s not sure how much more he could go just acting like a friend.
He likes everything about you and he’s not good at hiding it. Usually, it takes him a while to fall for someone.
When he met Jia its because they were partners in chemistry one semester and she helped him get the job at the cafe so he could make more money aside from his internship. Truth be told, Jia kind of scared him at first because she never hid her interest from him. She was aggressive with it and he didn’t know how to react so he never made a move on her.
She’s the one who had to ask him and even then, he didn’t say yes right away because he hadn’t been sure if it was something he wanted to do. Over time he obviously grew feelings for her but the relationship never felt as easy as his friendship with you did.
So really, the realization of how differently and strongly he felt for you in such a short time was an indicator that he clearly had strong feelings for you.
When he got home after the cafe, he had a strong sense of confidence that was going to be his push to just go for it. He had been talking himself up all day and had decided the worst thing that could happen is you say no. He could live with that… maybe.
“Y/n?” Soobin called out to you as he dropped his things at the door, “You home?”
You were in your room reading some poetry book with music playing quietly and he knocked on your open door. You looked up at him, sliding your headphones down to your neck, “Hey.”
You sat up a little, motioning for him to come inside and he looked around nervously, “Are you busy?”
“No?” You smiled as you looked down at your book, “What’s up?”
Soobin bit his lip in thought as he tried to figure out how to word it before saying, “Do you want to… I don’t know, get food? Maybe go for a walk later?”
“Um, sure?” You said with a racing heart, “What time?”
“Um, an hour? Forty five minutes?” Soobin asked, more eager now knowing you’ll hang out with him, “Thirty?”
“In thirty minutes?” You asked, “Okay.”
“Okay, I’m just gonna change and probably, uh,” Soobin blinked nervously, “Get ready.”
“Okay,” you laughed softly as he nearly stumbled out the door. Once your door was shut, you jumped out of bed and straight to your vanity where you hoped to make yourself look a little better.
This wasn’t a date.
Soobin didn’t ask you out, he just asked you to get food.
How would you feel if he were to ask you on a date? Would he ever do that or does he only see you as a friend? For all you know, he’s sworn off dating completely.
When you left with Soobin at your side, things were normal. You talked about normal things, laughed about normal things and for a while you were able to forget your worries. You were just spending time with someone you enjoy spending time with without thinking every little thing over nonstop.
“So what’s your type?” Soobin asked so suddenly that you nearly choked on your water. Usually he’s not so forward with his questions so it caught you off guard. The two of you were at a small restaurant and it felt oddly like a date when he asked you things like this.
With an awkward clear of your throat, you said, “Um, I’m not sure if I have a type. The people I’ve been with in the past have all been a little different, I think.”
“What about looks?” Soobin asked, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. He knows he’s an attractive guy but what if he still wasn’t your type?
You laughed softly, “I don’t know, Binnie, I like who I like.”
Soobin couldn’t help but blush, as he finally decided to ask, “What about me?”
You looked at him curiously, trying to decipher what he meant and when he couldn’t meet your gaze, you said, “You?”
“Am I your type?” He asked quietly. The server brought your meals which worked as a distraction to give you time to calm your beating heart and you took a deep breath.
It was hard to say because as of now… yes. You’ve always thought Soobin was attractive and kind and you’ve never actually dated someone like him so to say he’s your type is weird when you’re not sure if you even have one. You like Soobin, you know you do but what would it mean if you answer this question and what does he expect you to say?
“I think so,” you said shyly, looking down at your plate to avoid his gaze. Soobin resisted the urge to smile and ask you more about how you might feel for him.
He tried not to bring so much up while you had your late dinner and when the bill came, it became another topic of discussion.
“Soobin, you paid last time,” you said remembering the time you went to get hotpot last time, “Either I can pay or we can split the bill.”
“I asked you to come out with me,” Soobin said, getting his wallet out, “So I’m going to pay.”
“Binnie,” you said to him, watching him set money for the bill and a little extra for a tip before standing up, ready to leave. The server took the money and bid you both a goodnight.
“Y/n,” he used the same whiny voice you had, “Next time I’ll let you pay, I promise.”
Part of him wanted to reach for your hand as you left the restaurant but instead, he said, “I don’t want to go home yet.”
You have to admit, Soobin is really making your heart flutter in a very confusing way. You thought about taking his hand in yours and leading him toward the park across the street but you decided against it, unsure if it was something he wanted.
The night of the party when you held his hand, he made sure to not let it go even when you were on the bus but maybe it was just because he was drunk and not feeling good?
“So let’s go on a walk then,” you said, taking the reign to hold his hand, trying not to think about it.
Soobin smiled widely as he happily held yours, swinging them a little, “Y/n, I just want to say, you’re one of my best friends.”
He’s not sure he’s ever been able to call someone he’s dating his best friend. His past girlfriends never really cared to get to know him or have the same interests which wasn’t necessarily a problem but you’ve become his friend first and he thinks that’s what helped him develop feelings for you. You liked the same things, you enjoyed each other’s company and you never made him feel weird no matter what he did. He was being honest when he called you his best friend, it’s just that he wanted you to be more too.
“Who’s my competition?” You asked, waiting for him to say Taehyun or Yeonjun but he just shook his head, fixing your hands so your fingers were intertwined.
“You don’t have any,” Soobin shrugged, staring ahead at the path of street lamps, feeling a slight chill in the night air.
After a while the two of you decided to take a seat on a bench nearby, just under a streetlamp that casted down on it like a scene from a movie. You couldn’t help but shiver under the cold yet neither one of you brought up possibly going home—as if that would end the chances of spending time together.
Soobin felt you shivering beside him and without wasting too much time pondering, he scooted closer to you until his side was pressed to yours and provide you with much needed warmth. You looked at him with a teasing a smile, “So what you’re saying is, I’m actually your only best friend. I’m not sure if Taehyung or Yeonjuun would like that.”
He smiled cheekily, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, I don’t really keep it a secret that you’re my new favorite person.”
“Oh wow, what an honor. What did I do to deserve that?” You asked with a playful tone, trying to hide the way your face began to heat up.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking over at you with soft, moonlit eyes, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, unsure what to even say and you just looked into each other’s eyes, wondering if you were thinking the same. You were so close now and it was getting very hard to ignore when you couldn’t look away from him. Soobin was hesitant for a long while, debating if he should just go for it.
There were a millón things running through your mind, some about kissing him, or not kissing. Wondering if you should cross the line or give him space. You turned to face him, lips parting, “I—“
It happened rather quickly, the brush of his lips against yours, and you hadn’t fully thought it through when you kissed him back. There was a sudden sense of bliss that caused him to relax into the short kiss, melting into you when your lips moved against his.
His fingers lingered on your thigh, itching to deepen the kiss with a hand in your hair. Just as he was going to reach out, you pulled away abruptly, nearly leaving him to follow and his eyes snapped awake, unaware when he closed them.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” You whispered so quietly he could barely hear you. It didn’t stop his heart from dropping with clarity, “Oh”
You were rejecting him, even if you kissed him too.
“Binnie, I just—I like you but,” You bit your lip nervously, ‘I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“Oh,” he slumped back, giving you more space, “Why? Because we live together?”
“Yeah,” you sounded regretful, “And you haven’t been single for long and I just don’t want to be a, um…”
“You think it’ll be like a rebound?” Soobin asked with a small scoff, “Y/n, I… I wouldn’t do that to you, I want to try with you.”
“But, I don’t know, I just don’t want this to become a real thing, and it ends badly and we can’t talk anymore,” you confessed, “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” Soobin said, “I get it.”
He doesn’t.
Silence filled the space between you and neither one of you knew what to do about it. The awkwardness was already beginning to settle and he didn’t want that at all. A sorry smile spread across his lips, “You’re still my favorite person.”
A laugh left your lips, an ounce of worry disappearing but you still felt awful. You liked Soobin, and you were always such a sure person but when it comes to relationships you can be doubtful. You never know their full intentions and although Soobin is a really good guy but you haven’t known each other long and he was just in a relationship not that long ago.
After a while he asked if you should head home and the walk back was a bit quieter.
Honestly, you really did like Soobin. You never thought of him as anything more than a friend but not because you wanted to friendzone him but because you I never thought he saw you as anything but. Maybe you thought you would be the one rejected that you never thought about him romantically. He was attractive and you always knew so but you just seemed different at the time.
You were friendly, you talked nicely to each other and to only been a while since you started hanging around him. You assumed you were the only one feeling this way and its strange to learn that’s not true.
How would you have guessed he had feelings for you? Sure, he was nice from the getgo but it had always been casual. The only time e acted differently was when he was drunk and even then you assumed it was because he was too drunk to remember. Sheen he crawled into your bed after, it are your heart race but nothing happened between you two and it was never mentioned again. You grew to like him but you had no idea he would start liking you too.
It was a flaw in your character design, you think. You have no problem making decisions and being more confident and in control with it came to other things but for some reason when it comes to yourself, you’re doubtful. It’s easy for you to catch on to feelings when it comes to others but yourself.
That’s not to say you’ve never been in a relationship with someone but you’ve always just struggled reading how someone feels about you. Now you feel awful thinking you read Soobin’s intentions wrong but you couldn’t help it. You know what it feels like to be a rebound and its not a feeling you want to go through again.
The other person didn’t make you feel as good as your time with Soobin does and that’s what worried you. You’re also not in a spot to put your living situation at risk again. You had gotten so lucky to find him and f it goes bad between you, where would you go? You’re not as strong as Soobin. He could keep working with Jia and seeing her in public after what she did to him and be fine, but would you be able to live with him after? If he hurt you, or if you hurt him… could you handle it?
Lately, its not that you’ve been purposely avoiding him but ever since the kiss, your paths have barely passed. It seems like you both made an effort to interact at least once before and now that you’re not, its been boring.
When Soobin gets to the cafe, he couldn’t even think about having to work with Jia. She wasn’t in his mind anymore because all he could think about is you. You didn’t fully reject him and that’s what drives him insane.
“Hey Soob,” Taehyung said as he watched his friend walked past him with a somber expression, completely ignoring him.
You like him. You said you liked him, right? So why can’t you just give him a chance?
His mind felt a million miles away as he slipped up on his apron, tying it over his baggy shirt and sweats. Soobin was unaware of the stares his coworkers sent him as he found his job for the day and busied himself with it.
“You’re quieter than usual,” Jia pointed out toward the end of their shift, “Did something happen?”
Her voice was laced with feigned concern and that only bother him more. Why does she bother pretending like she cares about him?
“Nothing that you have to worry about,” Soobin mumbled more to himself than her but she heard him anyway. He wouldn’t tell her about you and how you somewhat rejected him, instead he looked at the time wishing Taehyun could’ve just stayed till close with him and Jia.
“Soobin,” Jia’s voice was soft, coming over to where he was wiping down tables and chairs, “I know you and I aren’t as close as we used to be but… I really do care about you.”
A small scoff left his lips that he wasn’t able to hide as much as before and he turned away, ready to leave her behind so he could be alone.
“Does it have anything to do with that girl?” She asked closer to close when there wasn’t a single customer in sight and the sign had already been flipped.
Soobin couldn’t help but release a sigh in frustration as he looked at her, “Jia, why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” She asked with furrowed brows.
“Why are you acting like you all of a sudden care? Can’t we just work without talking and then go home?” Soobin asked, clearly annoyed and not in the mood for her.
He’s kept his mouth shut ever since they broke up and he’s never asked her to explain anything or to apologize so why doesn’t she just let it go. He’s been biting his tongue because he didn’t want to seem bitter that she cheated on him but at this point he doesn’t care. He has other things to worry about then listening to his ex girlfriend try and act like everything is okay between them.
“Soobin, I’m sorry,” Jia confessed watching as he walked past her to the front door already holding the key to lock the shop for the night, “I know I probably hurt you and what I did was unforgivable but can you please just give me one more chance. I—I don’t like thinking you hate me.”
“Jia, I don’t hate you,” Soobin told her honestly as they stood outside and he can see the way she got hope in her eyes, making him keep explaining, “And I can work with you because I have to but I’m not going to forgive you.”
It felt strange being so honest after acting unaffected for a while but it was the truth and he needed to get it out, “You cheated on me, don’t you get that?”
“I know bu—“
“No, you clearly don’t know because since you saw me and Y/n get closer all you’ve wanted to do is talk to me. It’s not because you still want me but because you know you fucked up and don’t want me to move on with anyone else,” Soobin said harshly, “Do you realize how frustrating it is to want to be with someone and everyone thinks you’re not over your cheating ex girlfriend?”
Jia looked like she wanted to say something but the words were caught in her throat, so Soobin continued, “You slept with someone I lived with behind my back and in my own home and you think apologizing and asking for one more chance is going to work?”
She was frozen, unsure what to say or if she should say anything at all. Of course he’s right and she was only wishing that things could change but she knows that she fucked up. Being with Soobin had been great, he was sweet and caring and she wanted more so she looked for more in a guy who doesn’t mean a thing to either one of them.
It had always felt like Soobin didn’t love her, like he only dealt with her because they were dating and even then it felt like she pushed him to it. He never got upset with her, even when he caught her cheating, he was just quiet and listened to her apologies over and over again. All he did was ask them both to leave and that was it. When he still went to work at the cafe she hoped it was a sign that he would forgive her if he could still stand being around her but then you came along and she could see the way Soobin’s face began to light up.
From the get-go, she feels like you were able to draw more out from him than she ever was and that really did annoy her. She’s not putting the blame on him for her cheating but why couldn’t he show more with her as he had with you and why is it too late now?
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, close to tears but it was obvious Soobin didn’t care anymore.
“Have a good night, Jia,” he sighed, leaving her behind as he went to the bus stop.
He likes you, you’re all he’s been able to think about and he can’t stand knowing you doubt his intentions. Soobin has never been the type to use someone for his own gain and even that night of the party he forgot you went with him so he wouldn’t be alone knowing Jia was there. Once he had you with him, he didn’t care who was around. All he cared about was you and he needs you to know that.
When he got home, he was surprised to see you coming out of your bedroom right as he walked through the front door. You looked over at him, nervous and unsure what to say or if you should say anything at all. You weren’t sure if he was still upset with you or if he was ever really upset by what you said.
“Hey,” you said shyly, walking toward the kitchen where you were returning a bowl.
“Hey,” Soobin set his things, debating if he should go to his room or just try with you one more time.
Now that he’s told Jia how he feels about her still trying with him, he feels more confident to tell you exactly what it is he wants with you. He doesn’t want a rebound, he doesn’t care about his last relationship, he cares about getting to know you and kissing you more.
“Were you just at work?” You asked, trying to make some conversation, see if you could read how he might feel with you.
“Yeah,” Soobin joined you in the kitchen, “I had to close with Jia.”
You turned away from the counter, jumping slightly at how close he was behind you suddenly, “And how was that?”
“Well she apologized and asked for a second chance,” Soobin said, looking down at you, so close that his front nearly brushed against yours. You raised a brow in surprise that Jia had the nerve to ask for another chance but you wondered if Soobin was bringing this up because he planned on giving it to her.
“Oh?” You said, unsure what he was planning on saying next.
Soobin bit his lip, not shying away from your stare like he normally would, “So I told her that it was never going to happen because I’ve moved on and I like you and I don’t want you to think I’m using you or still not over my ex because I’m so over her, you don’t understand. The night of the party was one of the first nights I realized how much I like you and it’s taken me a while to admit it because I wanted to be sure.”
You blinked in surprise as he moved even closer, “And I know you kind of rejected me the other night but I also know you like me too so if you just give me one chance, I swear I’ll be the best boy you’ve ever been with and I have no intentions of just being with you as some rebound. You mean so much more to me and I should’ve told you that the other night but Y/n, I really want to be with you and no one else.”
With a small sigh, you leaned onto the counter behind you and nodded, “I want to be with you too, Binnie, but…”
He couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he reached forward, cupping your face in his hands, “Y/n, just give me a chance.”
“I—okay,” you laughed softly and with that, he was leaning down, pressing his lips to yours gently.
Your eyes fell shut, reaching out to touch him when he moved closer, pushing you against the counter with no room to go anywhere. A small gasp left your lips in surprise and it gave him a chance to deepen the kiss with his tongue.
“Soobin,” you laughed in shock as he pulled back in an attempt to catch his breath, “That was unexpected, different from the last kiss.”
His hands were resting on the counter, trapping you between them, he was leaning downuntil he could leave tender kisses along your neck, “I’m sorry, I… it was sudden and last time you wanted to stop.”
He was panting softly, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to take a deep breath, “Do you want to stop again?”
You looked into his eyes, “Not really.”
That was all he needed to hear before leaning back down for a kiss, this time sliding his hands down to your waist, grounding himself to the reality of this all. Your hands went to his soft black hair, brushed it out of his face and kissed him feverishly.
Soobin’s lips parted against yours, a sigh of relief escaped as he tilted his head to the side. You were a bit surprised by his forwardness once again that when his tongue trailed along your lower lip as if asking for permission, all you could was grant it. Your tongues met smoothly, circling around each other, before pulling back to his lips on your bottom one. Was he such a good kisser last time?
The more he seemed to lean forward and close the nonexistent gap between you, the more you leaned back with need, never once pulling your mouth away from his. With an annoyed huff at your attempt to lean back, he found himself tightening his grip on your waist before pulling you onto the counter making you gasp, “Bi—“
The near call of his nickname made him groan into your mouth, he kissed you with frenzy, like soon you would change your mind and everything would stop.
A small laugh escaped your lips at his eagerness, not shying away from wrapping your legs around his waist as he sat you down on the peninsula countertop. You brought a hand down to the cold marble, trying to steady yourself when he kissed along your jaw, then your neck leaving small red marks where he nipped at.
“Y/n,” Soobin’s voice caught you by surprise, his usual tone was deeper and hoarse with need as he pulled away from kissing you. His hands remained on your waist, his thumbs underneath the thin fabric of your shirt, inching it up just slightly, “One chance.”
“That’s all it’s gonna take,” he mumbled with swollen lips as he looked down at your lap, the material of your leggings not threatening and you could feel his hands slide down till they were at the hem of your leggings.
His gaze was darkened and you were admittedly incredibly turned on by this new side of him. It’s not like you expected him to suddenly take the lead so heavily but you can’t say you hated it. It’s different that what you’re used to from him and it makes you think back to the night of your first kiss. Should you have said yes all along? Would you have ever gotten to see this side of him where he felt the need to express just how much he wants to be with you?
Your eyes locked with his as he slowly began to pull down the material of your pants, lifting your hips slightly as he let them slide down. It’s like he was still waiting for you to tell him stop but with the parting of your legs and the way you guided him down to his knees, it was clear to him you wanted this just as bad.
Soobin started with gentle kisses along your thighs, neither you caring that you were doing this in your kitchen, it only seemed to fuel the heat in his stomach that you were alone. You licked your lips with anticipation, eyes dropping with need at the way he pulled your legs over his shoulders swiftly, looking down at your covered heat with a cute sort of curiosity.
He could see through the thin fabric how turned on you had gotten from the kiss. He can make out the shape of your slit and there was a slight dampness where your entrance would be and it made him feel so much bitter about the growing bulge in his jeans. With eager fingers, he pulled the fabric down, unable to help himself from teasing your heat with his nose tip, “Y/n.”
Your name fell from his lips so prettily that you nearly missed the urgency in it until you were looking at him, looking down at your cunt until finally, he leaned in. A sigh in content escaped you as he placed a soft kiss along your folds, teasing you by avoiding your hardened clit. His hands which held your legs apart were so far up your thighs you could feel the shadow of them against your core and it felt good to be grabbed by him. You never noticed just how big his hands were, or how good he could possibly be with his mouth.
After the light teasing he did with your folds, he licked softly against your clit before pulling it into his mouth, sucking gently making you moan for the first time. Soobin’s eyes immediately went to your face as he swirled his tongue around your clit, lathering it in his drool as he watched your face contort in pleasure making him throb in his jeans uncomfortably.
With one hand on the counter for support, your other hand went to his hair, pulling him closer between your legs and you could feel one of his hands unravel from your thigh and come up to your cunt. You could feel the tip of his middle finger dip into your folds, collecting whatever slick your pussy let out when he sucked on your clit and ever so gently, he pushed a finger in.
“You’re so pretty,” he sighed, attempting to catch his breath as he let his finger do some of the work. He rested his cheek against the softness of your thigh while beginning to thrust his middle finger into your wet pussy, “So fucking pretty, Y/n.”
With a deep groan, he went back to your clit, letting his middle finger hook into your g-spot while he mouthed at your clit, costing it in spit while fucking you with his finger. Your hand in his hair never let up, you used it for support, unable to keep your moans down, “Binnie.”
He felt the way you fluttered around him and it only made him put in more effort to bring you to your edge—and not just on the counter. He was nearly on his knees and his legs were beginning to cramp, his cock was getting heavy in its confinement but he didn’t let up. Instead, he let his mouth glide over your wet cunt leaving open mouth kisses in its wake.
“Oh god,” you whined softly as you felt a second finger push into your heat and a few seconds of this had your thighs threatening to shut, feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach, “Your mouth feels so good.”
“Cum for me then, baby,” the words slipped from his lips without thought but for some reason those were the exact words you needed to hear. He felt your release on his tongue a short moment after he spoke and your folds throbbed with please around him.
“That’s it,” he groaned, watching your juice drop around his fingers, gently pulling them away and letting you relax post orgasm.
You looked at him with a new sense of attraction, why was he so confident in bed? Soobin’s cheeks flushed red as he looked down at the mess you made on the counter but his dick loved the sight of your release dripping down on the counter. It was an easy clean up and it was hot, so fucking hot.
Without much thought put into it, Soobin raised his soaked fingers to his lips, humming softly at the taste of your essence. A bunny-like grin spread across his face as he couldn’t help but laugh, “You know we’re not done, right?”
Despite the last couple moments where he’s initiated intimacy, he didn’t wait for permission. He was letting you know he wasn’t done with you yet and that made it all the better when he pulled you into his arms, not caring that you were half naked and taking you toward his bedroom.
He set you down on his bed gently, looking down at you as he yanked off his shirt exposing a lean body of muscle you hadn’t expected.
Soobin isn’t the type to show off his body, he liked more loose fitting clothes and whenever he’s complimented on his physique he always gets shy. Whenever he leaves his room or he knows you’re home he makes sure to be fully dressed and he’s kept himself a secret from you out of nervousness that you might get uncomfortable. Now that your eyes are on his toned stomach, all he could think about is how he wished you’d seen him sooner—if he knew you would look at him like this.
Seeing him undress before you, taking his jeans off next followed by his briefs left you with your lip pulled between your teeth. You now knew why he looked so sweaty early in the mornings, he went to the gym at dawn while you slept in.
You sat up and pulled your shirt off, careful to undo your bra as you felt the bed dip down with his weight and he crawled toward you, helping you throw your things down before pushing you to lay down.
“Condom?” You ask, making him look at you with a sense of curiosity. He knew what you were asking and he of course would oblige but as he looked down at your naked bodies and the way his hard cock pressed against your head, he couldn’t help but let his mind go astray. He just couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
You let Soobin get up as he leaned over his nightstand, praying to the universe that he had a condom somewhere about. It’s obvious he hasn’t had sex in a good long while but he’s just hoping the universe is on his side and he can find one.
After a moment of searching, his heart raced, moved back between your legs and kissed you hungrily. You took the condom from his hands, ripped the wrapper off and searched down his toned abdomen till you found his stiff member. Although you haven’t gotten a good look at it, it had a weight to it and good girth that you couldn’t help but write with need.
Soobin didn’t hesitate to himself up with your entrance when you got the condom on and as gentler as ever, he pushed in. A low growl left his lips as your walls hugged him tightly and he couldn’t help but let his strength falter, nearly crushing you with his weight at the pleasure.
"Mmm," he groans into your neck, his body pressed against yours as he pulled out slowly, taking a moan to let you feel his big mushroom tip against your ring of nerves. Once he needed more, he pushed back in with a bit more force.
“Soobin,” you moaned, letting your head fall back into to the pillows as his hips began a steady pace of thrusting into you, "Oh… fuck."
He brushed his lips against yours, fucking you with his big cock, basking in the feel of your pussy around him, “So wet, bub.”
His voice had softened even if his thrusts grew rougher, “You feel so good around me.”
Soobin couldn’t help but be close and he was awfully pathetic for it. In his defense, he had just made out with a girl he was crushing on for the past hour. Add on how he ate your pussy in the kitchen [of all places] he felt it was only human of him to be so close to cumming despite barely fucking you.
With a deep grunt, he snuck his hand under your arched back pulling you off the bed and a quiet squeal left your lips. You moved your legs to hug his waist and cling to him when he sat you down on his thighs, cock still deep in your pussy. Soobin’s hands founded their way to the softness of your ass, pinching softly at the way you basically cock warmed him and it took him a moment to raise you up, and pull you back to take him all.
“Please Y/n,” he groaned, grinding your pussy on his dick, “Just say you want to be with me already, fuck. I just want to hear you say it.”
Pure bliss was evident on his face and your usual cute Soobin was replaced by a feral, dark and lustful Soobin you weren’t used to. His hair was sweaty and voice so deep that you couldn’t help but succumb to his advances.
He hugged your body to his and you began to bounce on his lap, kissing his neck and letting your hands trace down his chest feeling his nipples harden, “I want to be with you, Binnie.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m gonna cum.”
His eyes squeezed shut urging every muscle in his body to hold back from cumming first but he couldn’t. A shiver ran down his body as he felt the knot in his stomach come undone, his cock shooting thick spurts of cum into the condom, trembling underneath you.
“Fuck,” his voice was dry, urging you to keep riding his cock, “Keep going.”
“Bin—“ you moaned, hearing the desperation in his voice and did as you were told. It didn’t take long for you to let go, cumming in his arms as he whispered how good you felt around him.
As gentle as ever, he set you back on the bed, collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess that had you groaning.
“Sticky,” you mumbled, “I feel sticky.”
Soobin looked down at you and the mess the two of you made of each other, blinking with confusion on how things had escalated so quickly. Did he do that?
“Sorry,” he pouted, “Do you want to get cleaned up?”
“I think so,” you giggled softly as he reluctantly let you sit up, “How about I meet you back here in a minute?”
Soobin couldn’t think of anything to say and with a silent nod, he let you gather your things and leave.
You weren’t trying to ditch him but you needed to freshen up at least a little bit.
He thought about waiting for you in his bed after he cleaned up after himself but after a while he began to overthink it. Would you actually come back? He understands you’re just a wall away but the distance seemed so far now that he couldn’t help but get up and dressed, following you out his bedroom.
In the process of heading to your room, he stopped in the kitchen to clean up the mess as best as he could for the moment. A soft hum left his lips as he did so and when his eyes landed on a thin piece of lace fabric, he blinked curiously.
With a someone innocent look in his eyes, Soobin picked up your underwear, biting down on his bottom lip to stop a mischievous smile from growing before he shoved them in the pocket of his sweats, unsure what he would do with them later on. A giddy smile plastered his face, dimples on display as he walked toward your room, hearing the water run and he laid in your bed.
“Now, I thought I said I would be back in a minute,” you laughed softly when you came out your bathroom and Soobin just cutely snuggled himself deeper between your sheets and pillows.
“It was too long,” Soobin said as he lifted your bed covers, “Come lay down.”
“I gotta clean out th—“
“I already did,” Soobin whined when you tried walking past him on the bed and with a gentle pull on your wrist, he was leading you onto the bed.
“Did you?” You asked, letting him pull you down until you were laying down next to him, feeling him snuggle into you with his face against your breasts.
“Mhm,” he hummed, his interest caught on the softness of your chest—a place he had neglected when he knew damn well he shouldn’t have.
“Binnie,” you warned when you felt nuzzle into your breasts, squirming against your side, “It’s late already.”
“I know, but your bed… it’s so soft,” he clearly didn’t mean the bed and he thought he was just being a sly bunny, “And you said you would be with me now. Don’t kick me out.”
You could already feel his print press against your thigh, a clear sign that he was getting turned on all over and it was obvious he skipped over wearing anything under his sweats.
A gasp left his lips when he felt your hand palm his erection lightly and unexpectedly, saying to him, “Well, I guess my bed hasn’t been broke into yet.”
Soobin’s hand clutched yours tightly, following you so close that he almost stepped on the back of your shoes everytime you walked. The bar was packed with people and it made his anxiety spike up a bit and feeling your hand in his made him feel slightly better.
“Now don’t get too drunk tonight,” Taehyun said with a laugh as he trailed after you two. Soobin just glared at him, letting you take the lead to order the drinks, eyeing the bartender who was a little too nice to you.
“I don’t plan on drinking too much if he’s the bartender all night,” Soobin mumbled under his breath, hearing the way the bartender talked to you compared to the others. You didn’t pay him any mind but Soobin was watching him too closely that it made Taehyun laugh.
“Relax buddy, you already got Y/n and I don’t think she’s going anywhere,” Taehyun said looking around the bar, waving down Yeonjun who had been search for them all night. Even if your attention was on the bartender, you still held Soobin’s hand, beating him to it when he offered to pay.
“You paid the last two times we went out,” you told him, handing everyone their drink but Soobin was whining.
“But I like paying for you, Taehyun and Yeonjun have their own money,” Soobin said, turning to his friends with a scowl, “Don’t spoil them, only me if you do things like this.”
You laughed, feeling his arm circle around your waist, “It’s okay, come on, my friends are around here somewhere.”
“Hurry up before I puke,” Yeonjun groaned, reminding Soobin that he wasn’t alone with you at home and it made him shy, hiding behind you as you lead the way.
“Wow, Y/n, I didn’t know you were so rizz!�� A loud voice yelled out from your side before you were being pummeled back a few steps with large arms around you, jumping excitedly.
“Whoa, rizz!” Beomgyu shouted equally as annoying, making you groan. Soobin smiled nervously as he looked back to his friends who looked just as confused as him. He felt awkward seeing you being hugged by two guys but he tried to ignore it knowing they were just your friends.
“Binnie this is Kai and that’s Beomgyu,” you told him before looking at your friends, “Guys this is Soobin, my boyfriend.”
His dimples showed through and he couldn’t help but smile widely as you addressed him. When you joined his side against he was quick to reach for you, more happy now that you’ve called him that.
“Hello,” Beomgyu stood straight and brought a hand to his forehead as if in salute, “This is our first formal meeting.”
Kai nodded as he took your drink in his own hands, “Yeah, we would have said hi to you when we went to the cafe but Y/n wouldn’t let us because she didn’t want you to know she had a big fat mega obtuse crush on you.”
“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes at him, “It wasn’t like I was obsessed. I was just, yknow, curious.”
Taehyun put a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, “You see? Y/n liked you then too.”
You spent the night either sitting on Soobin’s lap or dancing with him when he asked you to, and when you went home, he jumped in your bed like he’s been doing since the first night.
… THE END, okay I’m out of text boxes but basically sorry it took my so long to finally drop a Soobin fic but hopefully the length of this makes up for it 😭after drafting a story, hating it, drafting a new story, hating it and repeating the cycle for months, I finally got one finish. please interact and lmk what you thinks… it’s kinda a mess but I tried 🤒
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moon-rivr · 2 months
Note
hear me out, we already know Miguel is probably touch-starved, but imagine him being really touch-starved. Maybe the reader is a baker or smth so she's naturally sweet (wink wink nudge nudge) and maybe just a little chubby. Miguel is always shy about asking readers for small things, like kisses and hugs, but she's really nice about it.
One day, Miguel has had a bad day and goes over to the reader's house for cuddles and is very grumpy about it, which makes reader kinda surprised and flustered to see how demanding he is about it. But as he's cuddling with her, he is very touchy per se and won't stop kneading parts of reader's thighs and shmoobis, which makes her really flustered but she doesn't want to ruin Miguel's moment
this could be smutty but fluff and the end because Miguel deserves a little sweetness in his life
sweetest bite
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pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader
contents: thigh fucking, nipple play, mating press, miguel being a munch (as per usual), oral (m), improper use of frosting, aftercare(ish)
author’s note: i’m so behind on requests i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll get to work on them 😭 i hope you still enjoy this though. trying sum new with the whole layout so lmk your thots 🥸
word count: 6.8k (yeah idk how to explain this one chief)
You were the sweetest thing miguel allowed himself to indulge in. Well, you and your pastries. He'd gotten so used to sacrificing his happiness for the better of the multiverse, of sacrificing everything that he had to give just to make sure that it stayed intact. But, he couldn't stay away from the little baker that set shop on 11th street in Nueva York.
"You should go and visit this little shop I found a couple days ago. The empanadas are to die for," Jess had told him after the last batch at the HQ hadn't been up to par with his standards. He wasn't expecting much out of his visit, the most he was hoping for was decent replacement for the botched empanadas and a cup of coffee. After all, Jess had never strayed him in the wrong direction in terms of food.
The scent of cinnamon and a pinch of vanilla filled up his nostrils as he walked into the shop, the aroma providing a homely feeling. It didn't compare to the other shops scattered around the city, the ones who smelt like stale bread and probably had rats scattering around in this back. Every single space from the shop looked clean, the white floors beneath his feet almost showing his reflection.
No, this was one was nice. From the peonies that you had on a vase at the front desk to the sheer decoration of the walls, a couple paintings scattered across the pink and white walls. Nothing looked out of place, everything seemed to coordinate perfectly. The lofi music playing in the background only added to the atmosphere, putting him in a more relaxed mood than he originally was. His jaw unclenched and his muscles were slack, a sense of calmness rushing through him.
The people inside also seemed to have a silent understanding that the atmosphere was supposed to be relaxing, conversations exchanged in light whispers. It was a nice change of pace from the usual bustling streets of Nueva York, almost like a place where time seemed to stop completely. A place that was an escape from the city, a safe haven of sorts. It provided him with a sense of normalcy he wasn't even aware that he wanted.
He normally didn't spend time appreciating the aesthetic of a place given how busy his schedule was, but he could see the appeal of this little shop. He almost regretted not finding this shop earlier, it provided with more relaxation than he'd ever find at the empty tables of the HQ cafeteria. There was nobody here that knew him, nobody there to avoid his presence or criticize his actions. Everyone just regarded him like he was one of their own, continuing on with their conversations.
What Jess had failed to mention to him before he came here is that the owner would be so enthralling. You weren't doing much apart from tapping something into the register yet you still managed to capture his attention. He wanted to look away to avoid coming off as a creep but his eyes seemed to defy his brain's instructions, keeping his attention solely for you. The chatter in the background died to a low hum as he watched you hand a paper bag to the man in front of you.
"How's your wife and kids?" He couldn't help but be taken aback when the question slipped from your lips, surprised at the gesture. Most of the people in Nueva York were so consumed in their own lives that they didn't bother to remember much about anybody else, much less ask any questions that didn't serve them an individual gain. Even with his enhanced hearing, all he could focus was on what you were saying like a siren luring him in.
He could tell from the little smile on your face that the man was engaging in the conversation, your hands struggling to keep up as you talked with him. He'd overheard you mention something about packing in a few extra cookies for the kids, his heart swelling at a gesture that wasn't even meant for him. You and the man kept talking for about another minute before he told you goodbye and you waved at him as he departed the shop. Miguel was next in line, but he felt his feet stuck to the ground like quicksand.
He was so enticed by the sight of you, the way your eyes illuminated under the white lights. Lighting that would normally make someone appear sickly only seemed to accentuate your features out to him even more. "Next, please," your voice came out like sheer honey to his ears, snapping him out of the trance he was in. He took two steps forward, coming up to the register. He'd spent so much of time simply just looking at you that he hadn't even bothered to look over the menu. You didn't annoyed at him for holding up the line, your finger tapping against the marble countertop as you waited for his decision.
"I'll get two of your conchas and three of your empanadas with a hot roast coffee," he finally spoke up after a while, looking over from the menu to you. "You want the empanadas made out of flour or corn?" You inquired after typing the order into the register. "I’ll get corn, please," he pulled out his wallet as he spoke, handing you much more than the amount showing up on the screen. You tried to give him back the change, but it only ended up in the pink tip jar you had set next to the register.
"Can I get a name for your order, please?" You asked him before he had the chance to walk away, his footsteps coming to a stop before he turned over to face you. "Miguel," he responded before he finally stepped away, leaving you feeling flustered and confused. The way his voice sounded to your ears was something out of pure sin, a part of you wanting to indulge in that as much as possible. But you refused to make a big deal out of the mildly handsome customer, refused to make a big deal out of the fleeting glances he shot your way and the way he also seemed to feel a spark between the two of you when your hands touched.
You could feel his stare as you kneaded the dough, but you didn't seem to mind it all that much. It seemed more like he was analyzing you, the way that you moved rather than something predatory. You had a small radio set up in the back to liven up the mood while you were baking, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the salsa song playing. You hummed along to the beat, setting the pan in the oven. You leaned against the counter as you waited, all the other goods pretty much set for another couple hours.
"Miguel!" You called out, watching as he got off the spot he was leaning on and walked over to you. He thanked you once you handed him the paper bag, his fingertips almost seeming to purposely want to touch yours this time around. Nope. Not gonna make a big deal out it. You forced yourself to look away from him as he stepped away from the counter, plastering a smile on your face as you greeted the next customer coming in. Greta. You'd taken the time to learn these people's names and learn what it is that they tended to get just to give them a sense of being seen.
The first bite of the concha had been delectable, a low moan escaping from his lips as he savored the taste of the warm cinnamon and vanilla blending together. He hadn't had a concha like this one since he took a business trip to Mexico. While Nueva York was quickly adjusting to fit the needs of the diversifying population, it didn't mean that every restaurant provided that taste of home he was longing for. Most of them just felt like a cheap replacement of the real thing, the taste usually bland and lacking seasoning.
But now he had an entirely different dilemma on his hands. a part of him wanted to eat the concha slowly, savor every bite of the treat while the other part of him wanted to scarf it down as quickly as he could. Eventually he lost the battle against his self control, eating the two conchas and one of the empanadas. Every part of this evening had surpassed his expectations, the empanadas being more than 'decent.' He would normally be more careful in the way that he ate, but now, crumbs were making their way down his black shirt and to his pants. Yet, he could seem to care less.
"How'd you like the treats? I haven't seen you around before so I'm assuming it's your first time," You asked him as he stepped up to the register, your head tilting back slightly to look at the man in the eyes. The afternoon sunlight coming from the door accentuated his eyes, almost making them look like a melting pot of rubies. While your shop was met with various different people everyday at almost every hour, you knew that you couldn't forget him even if you tried. His name still rang like a melody throughout your head.
"Liked them so much i'm planning on buying another concha," he told you, sliding one hand into the pocket of his pants to take his wallet out. "I'm glad you liked them so much. That'll be two dollars," you told him, taking the money from him and setting it in the cash register. You waved at him as he left, convincing yourself that the look back he gave after stepping out of the shop hadn't been for you. Even if you really wished that it would've been. All you could do was just hope that he would come back again soon.
Going back to work had proven to be more of a struggle than he originally thought, His mind replaying the small moments between the two of you. Your hand grazing against his as you handed him the cup of coffee. The smile that seemed to be just a little bit wider when directed towards him. He could still feel his hand tingling from the spot where you'd touched him, your touch electrifying him every way possible.
"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself as he opened up one of the files on the monitors, the words blurring together despite his best efforts to maintain his focus. He felt like a fool, being in his 30s and obsessing over somebody in this manner like he was a school boy. Despite the fact that he felt like a fool, he couldn't help the smile that threatened to overcome his features at just the mere thought of seeing you again in that little pink apron. All he could do was munch on the extra concha that he'd bought, his mind constantly wandering back to you.
Miguel hadn't attempted to be in a relationship after finding his ex and his father sleeping together, the experience being enough to traumatize him for this lifetime and the next. He'd given up on being a romantic, of going through the motions of learning what a woman's favorite color was and gifting her flowers that ended up wilting by the hour. He'd engaged in a few hookups from time to time, though he only ended up feeling like an asshole afterwards. They expected his call back, only to have their text not even go through. But.. he wasn't interested in you for that.
Sure, he could admit it to himself that you were probably one of the most beautiful women he's laid eyes on. The way your hips moved in the shop was hypnotic, the small movement making all sorts of domestic thoughts run through his head. But he wanted to know what it was that made you tick, what made you laugh, what it is that made you cry. He didn't see you as a prize to gain, but rather as something that he wanted to treasure. Someone that he could see himself coming home to after a long day of work.
The week following his first visit, he'd been buried under mountains of work. Whether it be misplaced files, a sudden surge of anomalies popping up, or just the daily Spider-Man activities that he was tasked with. He'd been looking for a spare opportunity to go back into your shop, maybe ask for your number this time around, but that opportunity usually got shot down with the amount of work he had due. He'd only managed to get a couple glimpses of you when he happened to swing by your store a couple times, his memory saving the moment like an sd card.
He'd managed to get a few moments to himself on a Friday, leaving immediately to go to your bakery before he got stopped by one of the members. He'd barely had one interaction with you and he was already starting to feel depraved having to go a couple days without talking to you. The bell placed on top of the door announced his arrival as he came in, your attention shifting from the counter you were restocking over to the door. You looked as beautiful as every time he's had the pleasure of seeing you.
"Thought you might've found another bakery to go to, Miguel. After you complimented my conchas too," you spoke first, giving him a teasing smile as he approached the counter. "There's no other bakery that would be able to size up to this one. I just got busy with work is all," he knew that you were just teasing him, but he still wanted to explain himself to you. Though he wasn't sure if you'd even thought about him that much. but surely you had, since you noted his absence. He was struggling the same as you were not to let these little gestures go to his head.
"Do you want what you got last time?" You asked him, his heartbeat thundering against his own ears. It was like you were trying to kill him now. He could understand why so many people came to your bakery now, for that feeling of being seen by you. Of getting that sense of meaning something to someone, well at least enough for you to remember their order. "Make it three conchas instead of two this time, please," he responded, once again giving you way much more than the amount had totaled out to be before going to wait for his order.
All he knew was that he had to have more than the complimentary conversation with you, but he couldn't figure out how to approach it. "The shop isn't too busy, what would you say to having a cup of coffee with me?" He mustered up the courage to ask you, his gaze almost burning into your soul as he waited for an answer. He hoped that he wouldn't push you away with this sudden offer, hoping that it hadn't been too forward on his part. He'd meant for it as a friendly outing for you to relax a while, but he wouldn't be able to deny the fact that he was already thinking of how to ask you on a date.
You looked around the shop to find that it was indeed empty, only a couple people talking amongst themselves left. Even if someone walked in, you had another employee that would be able to assist them. "Sure, let me just go hang up my apron and I’ll go join you," you finally spoke up after taking a couple seconds to consider, turning around to mask the excitement threatening to overcome your body. You slid off your apron and set it to the side, getting yourself a cup of coffee before walking over to the booth Miguel was sitting at. It almost felt ridiculous to admit to yourself that you were able to now find him in every room that he stepped in with ease.
"How long have you been a baker for?" He asked you after taking a bite of his concha, wiping away the crumbs that lingered onto his white shirt. "I've been baking for some time now, since I was in like middle school? I used to practice with an easy bake oven when I was younger before evolving into actually edible things," you shared with him, your eyes practically lighting up at the prospect of getting to talk about something that meant a lot to you. Conversation flowed easily enough between the two of you, an exchange of questions being asked from both sides.
You looked up over to the door when you heard the bell ringing, the second wave of customers walking in. As much as you would've liked to continue talking with him, you knew that your one employee wouldn't be able to handle the rush by themselves. "It was lovely talking to you. but I have to get going back to work," you stood up from the table as you spoke, grabbing the empty cup of coffee. Before you got the chance to walk away though, Miguel wrapped his arm around your wrist. Not tight enough for it to hurt, but certainty enough for it to make you stop in your tracks.
"I want to go on a date with you. I'd really like to keep talking with you, if that's something you wanted," he told you, his grip around your wrist loosening before eventually letting go. You grabbed a napkin from the corner of the table and a pen from your pocket, hastily scribbling out your number on it. "Just text me and we can work something out. I want to keep talking to you too," you responded before you went back to work, though your mind wasn't too much on the baked goods as much as it was on Miguel for the rest of the evening.
Your first date with Miguel was something that you'd never forget, the way he looked over at you every time you had something to share about yourself or the way that he let some of his walls down to let you pass through. But the way that his lips felt against yours was the most memorable part of the evening, your apartment lights just illuminating enough for you to make out the shape of his face. Every date following that one was a moment of absolute bliss, time seeming to stop whenever you two were together.
You were at the dining table when he came back from work, your brows furrowed in concentration as you mixed the bowl in your hands. The sweet aroma of vanilla reminded him that he was home again. The light at the end of a tunnel. it almost got him out of the mood that he was in. Almost. The exhaustion and annoyance from the day managed to maintain their claws on him, his footsteps trudging up the stairs as he went to change. He deactivated his suit, pulling a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tee over himself before going back downstairs.
You'd heard the door open but you were surprised to find that Miguel didn't bother to greet you the same way he used to. 'Cariño, ya llegue,' he'd say after a long day at work, (honey i’m home) Usually taking a seat across from you at the dining table just to hear you talk about your day. You figured that he just needed some space, that he'd come to you if he wanted that sense of intimacy from you again. You busied yourself with mixing in the dry ingredients along with the wet ones, almost ready to put the batter in the oven.
"Missed you so bad, hermosura," you heard from behind you, large arms wrapping around your stomach while his head rested on your shoulder. You were about to tell him that the sentiment was mutual when you felt his hands making their way up to your breasts, kneading them in his hands. He let out a contented sigh as he felt your body mold underneath his hands, having you turn into putty at just the smallest touch. He'd never been this touchy with you before, well he'd never been the one to start off this type of contact.
As much as he liked the feeling of your lips molding against his, the feeling of having your body pressed against him with every hug that he gave you, he never asked for it. He was just.. too shy to even try to start it off. He figured that it would come off as something weird, that his inexperience towards having intimate moments would be shed into the light. He knew that you wouldn't make fun of him for that, but a part of him couldn't help but be wary. He usually just tended to wait until you came up to him, wrapping your arms around him as you sought out for the comfort that only he could provide.
You felt your body being ignited into flames from the way he was touching, your body a manual that he had read thousands of times before. He knew everything that would turn your little head off to anything other than him. You didn't want to stop him now that he was feeling comfortable enough to initiate contact with you, but you'd almost mixed in a spoonful of salt rather than sugar. You willed yourself to finish up with the batter, your hands shaking as you brought the electric mixer down to the bowl.
"Miguel, lemme focus on finishing up with this batch and we can do whatever you want after that," you tried to negotiate with him, the plea landing on deaf ears as his hands travelled down to the expanse of your ass. Your back was arching instinctively, reacting solely to his commands. Sometimes it felt like he had more control of your body than you ever did, every little thing that he did serving a purpose to arouse you even further. He squeezed gently, his hands coming up to rest on your hips as he nestled his head into the crook of your shoulder.
"Don't let me interrupt you. Sigue con tus pastelitos e ignora mis caricias," his voice dropped about an octave as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to your ear. (keep at it with your cupcakes and ignore my caresses) Surely he must've known that what he was telling you to do was pointless. He knew the effect that he had on your body, knows the effect that he's having on you at this moment. You let out a small sigh of relief once the batter had finished mixing in, pouring it in slowly into the pan. You stepped off to the side, putting the pan inside the oven before turning to face Miguel.
"Let me just have your thighs, I won't ask for more," he murmured, his hands coming down to your thighs while his thumbs rubbed small circles on them. At your approval, he went over and sat down at the dining table, his legs spreading to give you access to sit down. He looked like a king sitting down on his throne, his large thighs taking up most of the space on the chair. Almost like he demanded respect. His thighs flexed with every movement, your legs moving on their own accord to get closer to him.
"You have approximately," you started off, your eyes shifting over to the small clock on the kitchen counter, "ten minutes." He let out a small chuckle, lifting his hips up to slide his sweatpants just underneath his balls. He'd made it a habit of going commando underneath his suit, the habit following into his daily attire as well. His cock was already starting to leak precum onto his stomach despite the fact you two hadn't done anything too extreme yet. "That's okay. I only needed nine anyways."
You sat down in between his legs, squeezing your thighs together while the tip of his cock prodded at the underside of your legs. You felt the chair creaking underneath you as he thrusted his hips into your thighs. "Would've done this sooner if I would've known it felt this good. Love your thighs so much, mami," despite the fact that he tried to keep up with his dominant persona, he would do anything if it meant he got to have you like this again.
His hands travelled up his your shirt, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Your back was flush against his chest as your mouth slightly opened, heavy breaths escaping from your lips. His slick coated the insides of your thighs, wetting them in his essence. Your hand went down to where the tip of his cock was poking through, your thumb rubbing small circles alongside the tip.
"Close your legs a little more for me mami."
"Yeah, just like that," he managed to get out through labored breaths, your thighs squeezing his cock in a similar way that your pussy would. You felt his mouth making its way down your throat, nibbling on the sensitive spots that would have you squirming. His touch was everywhere except for where you needed him the most, your desperation towards the situation growing even further. For someone who'd only agreed to thigh fucking, you seemed to be regretting it already.
You felt your slick leaking down from your folds down to the thin material of your panties, one of your hands reaching down to alleviate the tension building inside you. You hadn't even managed to make it to the waistband before Miguel was already pulling your fingers away, holding it with his other hand. "So greedy. Only I'm allowed to please that little pussy, remember," he warned you, though his voice carried no actual sense of danger to it given how needy he sounded. He made it a point to be the only one to please you, not your own fingers and certainly not anybody else's fingers.
He was rutting into your thighs at an erratic pace, no sense of stability as he felt his balls start to tighten up with every second that your warm thighs enveloped him. That was until he heard the loud 'RING' from the countertop. "No te pares. I'm almost there," he tried to speak over the sound of the timer's ring but you were already standing up by the time he'd finished speaking. (don’t stand up) You wiped away the sweat that accumulated on your forehead, taking a couple deep breaths to get your breathing back to normal.  "What happened to only needing nine minutes?"
He let out a small huff as he pulled his sweatpants back on, staying seated at the dinner table. Miguel wanted nothing more than to take you right now, but he was willing to be patient for a couple more minutes. You bent over to take the cupcakes out of the oven, the scent of vanilla hitting your nose instantly. You almost jumped at the feeling of miguel's hands rubbing your ass through your panties if it hadn't been for the fact you had a hot pan in your hands. You placed the pan down, taking the cupcakes out of it and setting them on a plate to get them ready for the frosting portion.
"Ah fuck," you trembled out as you felt Miguel's breath fan against your wet cunt, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Already so wet and I haven't even touched her yet," he murmured, spreading your folds with two of his fingers. He let a globe of spit trail from your ass down to your cunt, feeling his cock strain against his sweatpants. He could feel your clit pulsing underneath his fingertips, your body betraying you when you said you wanted to wait. You wanted this as much as he did. If not, maybe even more.
You pushed your hips back onto his face as he pushed his tongue into your wet cunt, feeling your slick coat every single one of his tastebuds at the contact. He knew how proud you were of the baked goods you made, but none of them would ever compare to the taste of your essence. The frosting on the cupcakes started to come out lopsided as you tried to squeeze it on, your hands shaking every time you tried to bring the pipe up to them. "Don't stop," you moaned out, eventually just giving up on the task of trying to keep frosting the cupcakes. The perfectionist in you couldn't stand seeing the sight of the uneven plaster of frosting.
Miguel ate out your cunt like he was a starving man, the task messy as he spat into it and pushed his tongue inside you. Your slick mixed with his spit, the taste of you almost making him delirious. You gripped the countertop tightly, your eyes fluttered shut as you basked in everything that Miguel was giving you. His tongue swirled around your clit in small circles, the sudden stimulation having your toes curling and your eyes seeing stars. You turned around to look at him, your slick coating majority of his chin while some of it dribbled down to his shirt. His eyes were tightly shut as he focused on the task at hand, almost seeming more into it than you were.
You brought your hand up to his hair, tugging at the roots as you pushed him closed to your pussy. He'd vocalized before about how much he liked the mixture of pain and pleasure, a moan vibrating into your cunt as a response. You felt yourself getting closer to that climax, Miguel’s tongue continuing its motions on your clit while his thick fingers opened you up to take his cock later on. You let out an exasperated sigh when you felt him pull away from you just as you were about to cum, though that was quickly shut down when he pressed his lips onto yours.
You got down on your knees, wet kisses marking his tan skin as you made your way down his stomach. You looked over at him, the sight in front of you truly something to behold. His head was lolled back, half-lidded eyes as he met your gaze. His chest heaved with every breath that he took, growing heavier as he felt your lips starting to make their way down his happy trail. He'd stopped bothering to shave it after noticing how much you liked it, the way you licked your lips every time his sweatpants clung a little too low on his hips.
Though his cock was twitching with need right in front of you, painfully erect, you decided to take your time. You kissed his inner thighs, occasionally marking him the same way he'd do to you. Your fingernails raked their way down his thighs, the muscles tensing underneath your touch. You wanted to tease him just as much as he'd teased you earlier, wanting some type of comeback after your ruined orgasm. You delivered a couple more kisses before making your way to his cock, pressing a kiss on the reddened tip.
“Hand me that bag of frosting, please," your voice came out uncharacteristically seductive to your own ears. You'd grown so used to being the sweet girl at the bakery that you hadn't expected yourself to even be a seductress. Miguel reached over to grab the pipe with vanilla frosting inside, handing it over to you. You squirted a little bit of the frosting onto his shaft, setting the pipe aside before leaning in. Your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue licking the stripe of frosting up before pulling away. "Think you're gonna kill me, little minx."
Miguel's hands went down to the sides of your head as you took him in your throat, soft moans escaping from his lips. Spit dribbled down the side of his shaft, your hand wrapping around it as you worked it up and down. Though your hand was smaller than his, he enjoyed the feeling of having you jerk him off. Your touch felt more delicate than his own, which tended to be a series of harsh thrusts just to get a quick orgasm. Your mouth came down to his cock again, taking him in much deeper than last time.
Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to make up for what your mouth couldn't reach, both working in tandem. Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in deeper, willing the muscles in your throat to relax while you did so. "That's it, taking me so well. Nadie me lo chupa mejor que tu," he praised you as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.
As much as he wanted to cum inside your mouth and see the way that you struggled to sometimes keep his heavy load inside, he wanted nothing more than to cum inside your pussy beforehand. He pulled you off as the height of his peak, watching your eyes flicker over to his in confusion. You were pretty sure you were doing everything that he wanted you to do from his reactions, the way his moans just so freely escaped from his mouth.
"You didn't do anything wrong. just want to cum inside you before anything else," he assured you after seeing the expression of your face, helping you up from the floor. He wiped away the precum mixed in with your spit from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, holding it against your lips. He watched as your tongue darted out before enveloping his finger into your mouth. The way your tongue wrapped around it was heavenly, your eyes shutting as you cleaned off his finger.
Miguel went over to the sink and ran a paper towel under cold water, cleaning any remnants of the frosting that might've been left behind. The last thing the both of you needed was for you to get a UTI as a result from this encounter. He came back over to you, kissing your cheek and muttering some apology about the cupcakes. Not that you cared about them anyways, all you could think about was Miguel having his way with you. He grabbed your hand and intertwined with his, leading you out of the kitchen and out into the living room.
Miguel led you over to the couch, raising your knees up to your chest. You placed your hands underneath your legs, watching as Miguel gave himself a couple languid strokes before slowly pushing his cock inside. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned out as he felt your walls fluttering against him, your cunt stretching to adjust to him. Your mouth was parted in a 'o' shape as he pushed his cock even further, your wetness coating his shaft with every delicious inch that he pushed inside.
He loved looking down at you in this position, at how your face contorted into one of pleasure as the sting from the stretch settled in. The way that your tits bounced in sync with every single one of his punishing thrusts. He loved every single part of you, even the parts that you found yourself complaining about at times. He wanted to drill into your head that you were desire embodied, that nobody would be able to compare to the way that you do. No one was even close to comparing to you in his eyes.
Your body was basically bent in half as you laid there to take every single inch that he had to offer, the tip of his cock bulging against your tummy. "Feel how deep I am in you, mami?" He murmured, pressing his hand down where he was at before retreating his cock in one swift motion. The loss was quickly replaced when he thrusted back inside you, relishing the feeling of your walls clenching around him like a vice.
His heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust that he made, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the otherwise empty apartment. The loud squelch of your essence coating his cock added onto the symphony of sounds, moans escaping from the two of you as he started to get deeper with his thrusts. You felt filled up to the brim, yet it almost felt like you weren't getting enough. The desire you felt for Miguel wasn't something that was easily satiated, if anything it only grew more with the attention that he was giving you.
The hand that wasn't holding your legs came over to his arm, gripping it tightly for some kind of thing to tether you down to the moment. Your pussy clamped around him a vice, prompting him closer to his orgasm. He prolonged it as long as he could, reciting useless science facts inside of his head. An octopus has three hearts. Though his stamina was high enough to get hard after his orgasm, he didn't want to ruin the moment between the two of you by cumming prematurely.
One of his hands went down to your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves between his thumb and pointer finger. He rubbed small circles on it, his speed matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his forearm the harder that his thrusts got, the pain only serving to accentuate his pleasure. "Fuck. Pussy's practically milking me," he uttered, his voice coming out in a groan at the way you were squeezing around him.
Your legs dropped down from your chest, wrapping around his legs as you held him close to you. If he'd even fathomed the idea of pulling out beforehand, the idea was quickly removed from the forefront of his brain the moment you did that. "Cum in me, please," your voice came out whiny as you felt yourself getting closer to that release, your toes curling from every rub being given to your clit. "Cum with me."
His hand enveloped yours as he slid in and out of you with ease, his pace having no rhythm now that he was approaching his orgasm. His thrusts were erratic as he worked the two of you towards that cliff, his fingers gripping yours tightly as if you were a lifeline. Warm ropes of cum shot up your cunt, your walls coated in white up to the brim. His orgasm had prompted your own, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you creamed over his shaft.
Your release mixed with his to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, some of the liquid leaking out from your cunt. He stuffed it back in with the tip of his cock to the best of his ability, a moan escaping from your throat at the feeling of him sliding in once more. While you could usually match his stamina pretty well, it'd been days since you'd last had sex with him. You were starting to feel worn out from the physical strain he'd put your body through. You wouldn’t change this feeling of euphoria for anything else though.
Miguel slid his softening cock out of your cunt slowly, careful not to overstimulate you in the process. He leaned over and pressed a kiss on your forehead, wiping away the sweat from your forehead. "You did so good for me, lindura," he whispered in your ear, stroking your thighs in soft circles before standing up from the couch. "Stay there and I'll come back with some clothes."
You looked over at him and gave him a nod, your body falling limp on the couch as you felt an ache forming on your legs. You closed your eyes for a second, or what you'd assumed was a second, only to open them to see Miguel standing over you with a pair of pajama shirts and one of his t-shirts. "Try to sit up for me. You don't have to anything," he reassured you, getting to work on cleaning you up before dressing you after you'd sat up.
The two of you sat on the couch with a cheesy romance movie the two of you weren't watching, each holding a cupcake. His hand wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to his body as his hand lazily drew circles on the side of your stomach. "I see why you liked that thing with the frosting. It's pretty sweet," he noted after taking a bite from his cupcake, leaning over to grab some that was sitting on your nose for a while. You let out a small contented laugh, poking the side of his cheek. There was no other place that you'd rather be other than his arms at this moment.
taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02
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shunsuiken · 11 months
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HOW THE GENSHIN MEN ASK FOR YOUR ATTENTION
pairing(s). kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, kazuha, thoma, ayato, alhaitham, cyno x gn!reader
genre. fluff (the boys are clingy <3) + they are all so in love with u god wtf get a room pls + minor spoilers for ayato’s story quest kinda (saying this just in case but idt it spoils that much) 
wc. 300-500 words for each character 
an. i literally forgot this piece existed… last time i edited it was 2021 can u believe omg 💀 (i unearthed this thing two months ago or sth) originally it was dckz + ayato, kazuha and thoma but now i’ve added alhaitham and cyno too + also it is SO SO canon that kaeya calls reader snowflake yup yup! also zhongli is so clingy here dear god oh to have this man yearn for my attention <//3
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kaeya alberich
kaeya had been sitting in his seat for far too long (it’s really only been a minute) and decided that he needed some fresh air. being captain of the knights of favonius really took so much time out of his beautiful day. he sighed and easily reattached his fur cape onto his collar with one hand before he began to seek you.
he strode down the streets of mond, greeting the locals with his charming smile. but there was still no sign of you yet! perhaps if he took one more round in the city centre he’d find you…
“i think that’s it for me, thanks blanche!” you were about to take your bag of goods from the counter when you felt two arms snake around your waist. “huh—”
you turned around confused until you saw who it was, a relieved sigh then leaving your lips.
“hello snowflake,” he greeted you with a smile reserved only for you.
“kaeya, hi.” your face brightened at the sight of your lover, hands resting on his biceps. “what are you doing here?” you could feel his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, a habit you noticed he did every time his hands were on you.
he made a melodramatic sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “my love, i’ve been looking for you everywhere.” he felt himself recharging with every second you were with him. “my day is beautiful again now that i’m with you, what are you doing here anyway?”
“i was buying things for… dinner,” you said the last part quietly, cheeks warming because you’ve never really cooked for kaeya before but the idea happened to cross your mind earlier in the afternoon, hence why he found you at the general goods shop. “wanna join me?”
“for dinner?” kaeya removed himself from your neck, raising a brow. “are you going to cook for us both?” he asked, tone ending in a teasing lilt. his voice made your knees melt.
you purse your lips in an embarrassed manner, nodding your head. “if you’re free after—”
“now, now—” kaeya shook his head, swiftly taking your bag of goods from the counter before snaking his free arm around your waist again. “—you know i always have time for you, snowflake.”
diluc ragnvindr
you were by the couch in front of a fire, reading through a book that’s caught your attention for the past hour. it was usually around this time that you would visit diluc in his office to ask for cuddles but… you never came.
thus diluc made the courageous decision to seek your attention. he made his way out of his office and down the staircase, spotting your figure sitting on the couch. your nose was so far up the pages in your book that you didn’t even hear his footsteps.
“have you had dinner yet, my dear?” your eyes snapped away from the book, revealing your face and warm cheeks to diluc. you shut your book softly, not forgetting to bookmark the page you left off.
“i haven’t, i was so caught up in my book i didn’t realise,” you said, naturally not realising what diluc was here for. he was a tad bit unimpressed with how you forgot to visit him; he was expectantly waiting for your cuddles, staring at his office door and focusing on the sounds outside to identify which footsteps were yours. but none of them were.
“was it the book you bought from our journey in liyue?” diluc inquired, casually plopping his head on your lap. his messy ponytail became even messier but that was fine, he knew you would offer to redo it for him later.
your fingers acted on their own as they gently carded through his soft crimson locks. “it was,” you replied in a whisper. then his eyes suddenly locked with yours and it startled you so you had to ask what was wrong.
“is that why you didn’t visit my office for the past three hours?” he deadpanned at you, jokingly of course. when the man discovered that you had grown fond of this reaction, he couldn’t help but make the face more often.
you laughed and the corners of diluc’s lips tugged upwards in a smile. but what caught him off guard as he was lovingly gazing up at you was when you began pinching his cheeks.
“your expressions are so cute, if only everyone else could see them.” diluc tried to conceal his blush, clearly working to no avail because you seemed to laugh louder as he averted his gaze elsewhere.
“i won’t forget to visit you next time.” you leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead, grinning in satisfaction when diluc’s cheeks completely camouflaged with his hair.
zhongli
zhongli was in need of something from you. as he sat in his usual spot at third-round knockout, his head could not stop turning about, perking up to the slightest calls from one person to another. where were you? he normally saw you running around this area at this time.
but of course! on the day zhongli needed something from you, you coincidentally weren’t around. if the adeptus had learnt anything during his time on teyvat, it was that the world really knew how to test one's patience. he sighed inwardly, about to revert his attention back to iron tongue tian until he saw the figure of your head amongst the crowd of people walking around.
the poor adeptus almost spit out the tea he was supposed to swallow, and after apologising to nobody for his poor etiquette, he stood up and rushed over to you.
“y/n! y/n, hello,” zhongli greeted you warmly with that smile on his face that made him look like a happy puppy that found his owner.
your expression softened at the familiar call of your name, knowing immediately who the voice belonged to. grinning, you thought it was adorable. which made you reciprocate his energy.
“my dear, the look on your face is making me believe you’ve done something audacious.” you raised a brow, looking at him up and down suspiciously.
zhongli’s heart churned, this was it! the look that did something to his poor heart made him unable to contain the expression that crept up to his face. he was waiting the whole day for you! and now that you’re here giving him what he wanted, he just couldn’t quell the excitement surging through his veins.
was he blushing? was he just hot from the weather? whatever the look on his face was, you were still absolutely stunned. never in your time with zhongli had he made a face like this before. 
you quite liked it.
“hm…” you tilted your head, looping your arm with zhongli’s. he heard the playful tone in your voice and he was living for it. “it seems that mr zhongli of the wangsheng funeral parlour is in need of some entertainment. might i borrow you this afternoon, dearest?”
zhongli nodded his head (with such enthusiasm too, there were practically stars in his eyes!). his smile was accompanied by the light blush dusted across his cheeks, arm tingling when it came in contact with yours. “of course dear, my time is yours.”
childe
you were by wanmin restaurant, chatting it up with xiangling about her newest dish you were just obsessed with. you wanted to order it again for takeaway but those incoming footsteps from behind you were quite concerning. so you turned around in curiosity because why is someone running to you at such speed?
“my looove!” oh.
you chuckled, opening your arms to accept childe into your embrace. “now what are you doing here?” you greeted as he nuzzled his face into your neck, feeling him softly exhale on your skin while his arms wrapped snugly around your waist.
“i’m not allowed to come see you when i want to? that’s so unfair of you.” childe pouted, removing himself from your neck.
“thought you’d be out ‘til the evening so i wasn’t expecting you,” you reply, briefly combing his hair down from its usual wildness. “oh! have you returned from a spar?” you bid xiangling a goodbye before heading out with ajax.
“i have! and…” the bright look on his face quickly dissipated when he showed you his upper arm after rolling up a bit of his sleeve. “i got just a little carried away in the process.” ajax looked at you with his blue eyes that feigned pain. “fix me up?” he suggested meekly.
who were you to say no to that? of course you would help your lover patch up his wounds. so after walking over to your home, you sat ajax on a chair and told him to stay put to which he replied with an animated nod of the head.
you returned with a first aid kit, quickly dabbing alcohol on his cut before bandaging him up. normally ajax never came to you with any wounds after sparring so this was a little unusual—but he was human. he would get hurt.
while you were in your little bubble of thoughts, childe was practically vibrating in his seat. the toothy grin on his face brighter than the sun that shone upon liyue, he finally had you all to himself now! and you were patching him up, these results were much better than he could’ve imagined. he’s always wished of being aided by you, since your touch was so gentle and warm.
he leaned into you, placing his forehead on your shoulder. and like a kitten he nuzzled his face into your neck. “missed you,” he mumbled, although muffled you understood what he said. pulling him further into your embrace, you let your warmth surround him. “missed you too.”
kaedehara kazuha
kazuha sits idly by a tree in liyue, whistling softly to greet the sight of the serene horizon. the sun rises gradually and soon, so will you. he lets the leaf he was playing with fly with the morning breeze, getting up to greet you a good morning.
kazuha knows just how far the sun has to hover above the horizon to know when you begin stirring out of your slumber. he enters the inn and takes the staircase to your room you booked, opening the door to find you stretching on the bed.
“good morning, my love.” his sweet voice makes your head snap upwards, your expression brightening at his presence. “morning, kazu.” you open your arms, inviting him in for a hug and he plays right into your little trap when you pull his body on top of yours.
kazuha yelps in surprise, face smacking into your pillow as he’s slotted right beside your face. he lifts his head up, shaking his head slightly in fondness. his baby hairs tickle your cheek. “you’ve just woken up but you already have the energy to play tricks like this.”
you snake your arms around his waist, pulling him flat against your body. “that’s what makes life fun, kazu.” you nuzzle your face into his warm neck. “but i might have to cut this moment short, boss needs me at the restaurant.”
what. kazuha blinks owlishly at nothing in particular. what do you mean your boss needs you at work right now? no. nope! kazuha doesn’t like the turn of events. he swears today is your day off!
“i thought you had the day off?” he raises a brow at you, trying not to sound too disappointed.
“i was supposed to but boss came over last night when you went to buy us dinner and practically begged on her knees for me to go to work.” your voice is laced with amusement as you remember the look on your boss’ face. “apparently two other employees had last minute plans they couldn’t cancel.” you remove your hands from his waist to place them on his cheeks.
kazuha doesn’t normally make such expressions so when your eyes land on his face, you can’t help but coo. “well we may stop by for some breakfast before i leave.”
his expression doesn’t improve.
you purse your lips. you’re trying your absolute hardest to contain your laughter. “i’ll ask boss to give me another day off? so i’ll have two days off to spend with you.”
kazuha shakes your hands off his cheeks so he can nuzzle his face into the juncture of your neck. “your boss should learn to keep her promises.”
thoma
“y/n! would you like me to make those pastries from yesterday?” thoma’s face pops up from behind the book you’re reading. you smile and put the book down momentarily.
“that would be love—”
“oh oh! what about those cakes from two days ago? i recall you saying that it was delicious for afternoon tea or i could make you—”
you stifle a laugh. to be honest, it has been a while since you two met up due to your busy schedules so his hyper attitude right now is understandable. but you don’t think you can have a proper conversation like this so you decide to mess with him. pulling a business smile on your face, you say, “good afternoon, commissioner.”
“h- huh?! good afternoon, my lord—” but when thoma lifts his head to greet his lord, he isn’t there. his brows furrow, whipping his head around to see the mischievous look on your face.
“y/n! that wasn’t funny.” he blushes at your teasing, pouting unintentionally in response.
you chuckle, raising your fingers to pinch both of his cheeks. “you can be so naive around me. it's adorable, thoma.”
the use of his name makes him gulp embarrassingly loud. in his kneeling position, he holds onto your wrists that now cup his warm cheeks. “i- i was just wondering if you wanted any cakes! my lord said i’m free for the rest of the afternoon so i thought—” thoma exhales shakily from your intense gaze before continuing, “—i thought i would be of service to you today.” he ends his sentence with a smile, bringing his gaze to meet yours.
your heart pounds in your ears. maintaining composure around your beloved one soon became difficult after time passed. but you learnt that letting your walls down for him was worth it.
“then let’s make those cakes together. didn’t you say you would help me improve my baking skills?” you take his hand from your wrist to guide both of you on your feet.
he nods his head like an obedient puppy. “i did!”
“then let’s head to my kitchen.”
kamisato ayato
it is rare for kamisato ayato to leave the main office. oftentimes he is drowned under paperwork that needs him to provide his official signature or input for upcoming events. however, ever since you came around, even the commissioner’s most capable retainer finds himself at a loss when in search of his lord.
the only reason ayato even leaves his office is because he hears the echo of your voice entering the estate after your afternoon walk around the city with your ladies in waiting. with swift movement, ayato relocates his work from his office into yours.
when you slide the shoji open, you flinch at the sight of the figure who’s been awaiting your arrival for the past hour (ayato’s distracted himself by busying his mind with official documents). 
“welcome home, darling,” ayato greets you while his gloved fingers continue to sign pages with his brush, ink gliding over the documents smoothly.
heat rises to your face at the pet name. you promptly dismiss your ladies in waiting before they can see the expression on your face, maintaining it to the best of your abilities until they are gone.
“have you been here this whole time?” you slide the shoji shut behind you.
ayato raises his gaze from the document to flash you a smile. “yes i have.”
unfortunately for him, you don’t miss the cheeky glint in his eye. sitting down beside him, you scold him jokingly with a pointed finger. “tsk, you’re lying. i just saw thoma bring out your tea set from your office.”
“oh.” the single syllable word is emphasised by his lips that form an ‘o’ shape.
you don’t realise you’re holding in a laugh until it bursts out of you at the sight of him acting like this. ayato’s posture relaxes as your laughter fills your office. he puts his brush down to pull you closer to him so he can lay his forehead on your shoulder while an arm wraps around your waist.
“did you happen to bump into someone on your afternoon walk?” ayato’s eyes flutter shut, fatigue finally hitting him when your warm palm rises to caress his cheek.
strands of his hair tickle your chin as you reply, “yes, i met lady hiiragi near uyuu restaurant. she said she was waiting for one of her retainers.”
“you mean you spotted lady hiiragi on a secret outing with sir kujou.” ayato doesn’t fail to correct you, the corner of his lip rising in amusement.
you gasp knowingly, patting your lips to correct your words. “indeed that is what i saw.” you nod with a smile. “no wonder she was wearing such an atrocious looking kimono and styled her hair… like that. she was disguising herself.”
ayato lifts his head to meet your gaze and jokes, “i can only imagine what sir kujou was wearing.” 
your eye twitches, a grimace appearing on your expression. “i’d rather not.”
the yashiro commissioner can only chuckle at your reaction. ah, he just loves it when you’re around.
alhaitham
the akademiya’s scribe is a rather quiet man. he only opens his mouth when necessary. for example, when his roommate, who cannot stop blabbering about a rather irritating client, comes waltzing through the hall, disturbing the peace of the scribe’s reading time, does he open his mouth to shoot him a sharp “shut up.”
another example is when a certain knock on the door is heard and kaveh goes to answer it.
“kaveh, hello! is alhaitham home?” it’s you.
the scribe is on his feet immediately. the blond yelps when he is shoved out of the way to make space for your lover, who greets you with a gentle smile. the book from earlier is now left disregarded on the chair.
“my dear, you’re here.”
alhaitham finds it difficult to stay quiet around you. there’s just always something to say when you’re right next to him. like right now as he offers his arm out for you to hold, before promptly announcing that he and you will take a stroll around the city. kaveh only gapes at the unusual behaviour of his roommate. poor man can never get used to it. you offer him an apologetic smile before leaving with alhaitham.
you sigh, patting on your lover’s arm scoldingly. “be nicer to that roommate of yours, did you see the stunned look on his face?”
“don’t look at his face, dear, it’ll stress you out,” alhaitham says bluntly as he takes the path towards treasures street.
you have to cover your own mouth before a sound so unbecoming can leave it.
alhaitham takes pride in how he can make you laugh. he loves watching your eyes twitch and how you purse your lips to contain the boisterous reaction, how you have the self-control to maintain your composure in public despite wanting to cackle loudly like a maniac. knowing he can prompt such a reaction out of you makes him huff proudly when he’s alone with his ear pieces in.
but right now, his ear pieces are turned off. he finds himself carrying the conversation as you and him find seats in the audience, waiting for a scheduled performance hosted by the zubayr theatre. he keeps you close to him as you squeal in excitement when the lights dim for nilou to appear on the stage.
alhaitham finds himself speechless when he yearns for your presence. the most he can do is pull up that smile on his face and pray to lesser lord kusanali that you’ll see the faint twinkle in his eye that is telepathically asking for your attention. the man doesn’t even realise he’s doing the latter, that’s just his unconscious bodily response.
fortunately, the dendro archon is of kind nature, and what archon of kind nature would ignore the prayer of one of her most loyal followers?
cyno
the general mahamatra comprehends his silent need for your presence when he takes a quiet stroll through caravan ribat. he misses you and your curiosity—your hand that grabs his wrist to take him to a stall that has trinkets and things that have caught your eyes or how you’re so quick on your feet to run to the next thing that shines in your field of vision.
cyno stops in his tracks, staring at the path that would show him out of caravan ribat and into the greenery that leads towards the city.
he could leave right now.
you know your lover has a demanding job so you obviously don’t get in his way with distractions. but when your head snaps to your right side at the sight of your lover donned in his usual attire, walking towards you with a rather intriguing look on his face, you have to burst his bubble of personal space.
“cyno, what are you doing here? i thought you had something to do at caravan ribat.” cyno only smiles gently, offering his hand out for you to take, which you do.
“work is finished,” he tells you, bringing you closer. “and i missed your company, my love.” he whispers lowly, gaze pouring into yours.
you raise your brows, gulping, making you break eye contact with him to stare at the interesting potted-plant behind him instead. “cyno it’s only been four days since we last saw each other.”
“that does not change anything.” cyno tilts his head to find your pretty eyes again, a crease appearing in between his brows as he stifles a laugh. “my love, my eyes are here.” and he only pulls you by your waist when you act like you don’t hear him.
he’s so insufferable.
“hm, it’s a lovely day today, how about a round of TCG with me?”
your head snaps in his direction. an expression of disbelief takes over your face completely. “are you serious? you come back after four days and you ask me if i wanna play—”
a smug look grows on cyno’s face as you complain. then it clicks in your head and you click your tongue, folding your arms and looking away. “go and play with your friends then, i can just go to treasure’s street and—”
“oh come now, love, you know that was a joke, right? or do you want me to explain what my true intentions are? because if you would like to know then i’m happy to mmph—” cyno grins into the kiss you give him, effectively shutting him up. perhaps this is what he wanted in the first place.
you pull back, heat rushing to your cheeks at your own actions but really, you miss your lover. so that seemed to be the most appropriate thing to do at that moment.
“dinner. we will have dinner.” cyno relishes in the way you grab his hand, squeezing it as you lead him towards puspa cafe.
6K notes · View notes
itsswritten · 28 days
Text
gone. | 2
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader
Word Count: 3.2K
Warnings: Slight angst, unrequited love, fluff, reconciliation, kind of miscommunication.
Summary: Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on.
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The voice beckoned to him like a siren's call, pulling Azriel through the familiar halls of the house in a daze. His shadows moved with urgency, some darting ahead while others tugged at their master, urging him to quicken his pace.
There was a small part of him that knew why they were behaving in such a way, but there was a sinking feeling that came with that revelation. 
Azriel felt as though he had forgotten how to breathe when he finally laid eyes on you.
Of course it was your melodic voice that had drawn him.
Caught in a bear hug by Cassian, you were lifted off the ground and spun around amidst the joyful chaos of your friends who had gathered in the foyer of the River House to greet you. You had returned at last. Your laughter rippled through the house, filling it with a warmth that had been dearly missed.
Six months had passed.
Six agonising months. 182 days.
Azriel had been counting every single one since the moment you departed after Solstice.
The day after your departure, Rhys had declared that you had been sent on an urgent undercover mission to the continent. It was a mission originally briefed for both you and Azriel, but in the span of mere hours since your last interaction with the Shadowsinger, the plan had shifted. To Azriel's dismay, Rhys had approved your solo assignment.
Azriel had argued vehemently with Rhys that day, his frustration boiling over until he was blue in the face. But Rhys remained steadfast, unwilling to change his decision or disclose your whereabouts. Azriel knew deep down that you had been sent alone because of him, that you had chosen a means to escape from the pain he had caused you, and the weight of that knowledge only added to his self-hatred.
After you left him in the library that night, Azriel had desperately searched for you, his heart heavy with regret. He wanted to speak with you, to mend the fractured pieces of your friendship. But despite his efforts, you remained elusive, slipping through his fingers like mist.
Even his shadows, loyal companions that they were, failed to locate you. Always returning empty-handed. It was as though you had vanished into the night, leaving Azriel to grapple with his own turmoil alone. He knew his shadows wouldn't divulge your whereabouts even if they found you; their allegiance to you had always been unwavering.
Their disobedience was a punishment he deserved. You didn’t owe him anything more than you had already shared. You had already revealed your heart to him.
And your heart wasn’t something he ever imagined being worthy of.
So he pleaded with his shadows then, if they wouldn’t tell him where you were that they must promise to keep you safe.
And with that several tendrils left him, not hesitating with their duty.
Though the end of your mission was anticipated, the exact date of your return remained uncertain. Due to the covert nature of your assignment, communication had been scarce. Yet, every now and then, a note bearing your unmistakable perfect handwriting would appear in the dining room.
Safe. It would reassure.
And for a brief moment your family would ease from their worries, Azriel though, remained on edge, his concerns never truly leaving.
Frozen in place, Azriel watched as tears of joy flowed freely from his family's eyes, overwhelmed by your homecoming. Despite the trials you had undoubtedly faced, you appeared radiant, a sun-kissed glow gracing your skin that perhaps spoke subtly of where you may have been stationed on your journey.
Azriel’s eyes slowly moved over your features, his gaze taking in every inch of you. Devouring this moment and saving it somewhere deep in his mind, because this version of you he didn’t deserve. He felt unworthy of the sight before him, fearing that you would never want to share this radiant version of yourself with him.
His throat tightened as your face turned to him, catching him lurking with his shadows in the corner. His companions that had accompanied you through your time away, quickly returned to their master, fluttering quickly to be amongst the others, seeking approval that they’d done their job. That they’d kept you safe.
But Azriel couldn’t even bask in their return as he stared at you. Azriel was terrified, terrified of what expression would bore your face when you saw him. He had caused you so much pain, surely you detested him? But instead your expression became bright and your smile spread wider at the sight of him.
Azriel dared not trust his heart to continue beating if your expression had reflected true hatred. It was a fear that had haunted his every dream since the day you departed, a relentless torment that gripped him. So when your expression softened into that smile that reached your eyes he felt himself slump in relief.
In the six months of your absence, something within him had changed. Your confession, with your absence, had lifted a veil that had clouded his vision for far too long.
With you no longer by his side, Azriel had felt the void you left behind keenly. He had always held you in the highest regard, placing you on a pedestal that he believed himself unworthy to approach. There were times he had even considered himself unworthy of your friendship, which was why he cherished you so dearly. But your confession to him, had shattered the barriers he had erected, revealing how the depth of his own self-worth had brought blindness to himself.
And in turn, caused you so much pain.
“Azriel.” You smiled softly, tilting your head as you took in your best friend. Despite the turmoil churning within him, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope stir in his chest at the sight of you.
You’re not sure you’d seen him look so broken in all your centuries of knowing him, and there was a twang of guilt that surged through your chest. With two quick strides you moved to him, knowing he was too respectful to cross that boundary himself. 
Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a warm embrace.
For a moment, he simply allowed himself to bask in the comfort of your presence, the familiar scent of you filling his senses and calming the anxiety raging within him. It took a while for him to trust his movements, before he let his arms wrap around your back, fully sinking into your warmth and hold.
His heartbeat was loud, fast and fluttering. Concern filled the outer corners of your mind as you felt your friend's composure falter, how rare it was to see him this way.
Drawing back gently, you met the gaze of your friend. His eyes, a mesmerising hazel, held a sadness within them that made your heart ache. His long lashes fluttered with each blink, and his jaw was pulled tightly as if not trusting himself to speak.
You couldn’t help but indulge in his beauty for a moment, as sad as he may have looked. Azriel had always looked like he’d been carved by the gods, so painstakingly beautiful. It had been so easy to fall for this face, and you had to be careful to not do it again.
When you left, things had reached a breaking point. It felt less like a departure and more like an escape—a desperate bid to flee from the shattered remnants of your heart and friendship. True, the mission loomed ahead, a joint task that was supposed to be with Azriel, and was still a month away. But facing him, working side by side after his rejection, seemed an unimaginable task. So you made the choice to run, to seize control for yourself.
So you ran away that night. Stealing the reports from Rhys’s office was a risky move, but it felt like the only option. You had to do this alone. You had sent a mental message to Rhys of your choice, he didn’t once force you to return. Despite your actions being so unlike yourself, perhaps it was the raw vulnerability he had witnessed in the hallway that night that steered his hand in giving you this control. Instead, Rhys supported your decision, expecting you to stay in touch and made you promise you would let them know if you needed help.
But that time and space was exactly what you needed. Those six months became a transformation. At first, the weight of your heart was heavy. The bitterness of rejection, a constant companion, thoughts of Azriel and Elain often haunted your daydreaming and nights. 
Yet, with time, you found comfort in solitude. You had learned to embrace the stillness, confront the pain and eventually allow yourself the space to heal. Your day-to-day tasks of stealth, stalking and slaughtering was also a welcomed distraction, but in the midst of some close encounters it really did give you a new perspective.
That even though your romantic feelings towards Azriel may have been rejected, you still refused to let that fracture your friendship. You realised you would much rather suffer a little, to ensure your friends happiness even if that wasn’t with you.
Sacrificing your own desires for Azriel felt like a small price to pay.
For Azriel deserved nothing less than that. Out of all your family, your brooding friend truly deserved the most. And if Elain was the key to his happiness, then you would embrace her presence in his life, even as it stirred heartbreak within you.
And instead you would be grateful for the parts of him you did get to have– his laughter, his counsel, his friendship.
Because a life without Azriel, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.
Azriel found himself captivated by your gaze, drawn into the depths of your eyes after so long apart. There was a sadness etched into his features that caused your brows to furrow sympathetically. With a tender hand, you reached out, your hand finding its way to his cheek. The gentle pressure of your touch– something he had longed for so deeply in these months apart, made his eyes close briefly, a shaky exhale escaping his lips in response.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that” you whispered, pulling a soft smile onto your lips hoping your optimism in this would give him the reassurance he needed. It dawned on you then, the toll your abrupt departure and heartfelt confession might have taken on him. How you should have known he would spiral into self-blame. 
Azriel's throat tightened with emotion as he struggled to find the right words to express his own feelings. "Gods, I have missed you," he finally whispered, his voice laced with a softness as he met your gaze, his hands were on your waist now and he was completely lost in you. 
Lost in that beautiful glowing smile you had so kindly shared with him.
He needed to speak with you, needed to apologise, needed to try and repair the damage he had unknowingly caused. Explain to you how he was the foolish one, admit he had been blind not only to you but his own feelings. But before he could even phantom how he would express all that, Mor was quick to tug you away.
“How come he gets that kind of welcome? I want more of you!” Mor whined, her tone teasing as she looped her arm around yours.
It was clear Rhys had kept to your word on not sharing your true reason for a hasty escape. No, that was something between you and Azriel only.
And even though your family had noticed a shift with Azriel during your absence, they chalked it up to only missing you. 
Your reunion with your family was filled with laughter and chatter as they eagerly filled you in on everything you had missed during your absence. 6 months to Fae, in the grand scheme of things was such a small amount of time, but your life, your family dynamic was so different now that you felt as though you had missed so much. They seemed to take turns vying for your attention, each craving a moment in your company. Mor was the first to claim her spot, promptly sprawling across your lap, her hair cascading around her as she regaled you with tales of the latest gossip from Rita’s.
Next came Nyx, rousing from his nap to claim his turn on your lap. As you held him, a mixture of joy and sadness swirled within you, struck by how rapidly he was growing and how much you felt you had missed. Then it was Cassian's turn, settling on the floor between your legs with his wings spread awkwardly to either side of your chair. Apparently, you were the only one who could braid his hair gently enough, as Nesta was too harsh he had told you before sending his mate a glare which she ignored with an eye roll.
Your fingers moved with practised ease as they threaded through his locks, weaving them into two neat plaits while the voices of your family filled the room. Amidst the chatter, one name struck a chord within you, causing you to momentarily freeze.
“So yeah, Elain moved in with Lucien about four months ago,” Feyre continued, unaware of the effect her words had on you. “They’re living in Day Court now, but I’ll make sure to send word to her about your return. She’ll be so happy to know you’re back.”
Your gaze involuntarily drifted towards the Shadowsinger, who had been silent since your arrival but now fixed his intense stare on you. Confusion swirled within you. While you were aware of Lucien and Elain's bond, and you couldn't deny the strength of any mating bond, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more between her and Azriel.
Wasn’t there?
If there wasn’t, what had you walked in on all those months ago?
"I swear they’ll be tying the knot soon, absolutely besotted with each other," Feyre exclaimed with a radiant smile.
"That's wonderful news, Fey. I'm genuinely happy for them. Perhaps we should plan a trip to visit them in Day soon," you suggested.
"Oh, count me in!" Mor chimed in enthusiastically. "And a chance to see Helion again wouldn't hurt," she added with a playful purr, eliciting an eye roll from you as you finished braiding Cassian's hair.
“Get the chance to have any fun on your trip?” Mor continued, shooting you a teasing look.
“Trip?” You scoffed. “It was a high-stakes mission, not some holiday.”
“No time for any kind of fun at all then?” She pouted. You knew exactly what she was implying.
You hesitated for a moment, you could feel his eyes on you. As if anticipating your answer. Azriel’s gaze hadn’t left you since you’d arrived, and if you didn’t know him so well you might have considered it unsettling. 
But you hadn't had any fun. As Mor liked to call it. Not that there hadn't been a few opportunities to seek the warmth of someones bed, but the calling to do so never came.
“No fun for me.” You ignored his gaze, tilting your head “Sadly.” you added. 
“Shame, I was really hoping for some juicy insights of your escapades.” Mor sang.
The conversation veered toward planning a long-overdue night out at Rita’s, and you let your friends debate whether it should be exclusively a girls' night, with Cassian humorously advocating for his inclusion.
Seizing a moment while your friends were engrossed in their discussion, you quietly rose from your seat and made your way toward the Shadowsinger, who observed you with an unreadable expression. Offering him a gentle smile, you gestured for him to follow you out of the room.
Your departure went unnoticed by the rest of your family, a testament to your usual stealthy movements. There was a reason you and Azriel were usually paired together on missions, always so silent and unseen. But, you felt a sense of urgency in having this conversation with Azriel, especially after six long months.
Out in the garden, the setting sun bathed the surroundings in a golden hue, casting warm light over the grass and flowers. You noticed here Elain's absence more, the garden not as vibrant without her green-fingered touch.
You settled onto a bench, closing your eyes momentarily to bask in the sun's rays kissing your face. Azriel could have just stayed in that moment indefinitely, captured by the soft expression on your face that basked under the sunlight. He moved quietly beside you, the proximity of you was something he had missed and it was taking every control he had not to hug you again.
And was it only a hug he wanted?
Either way he still felt unworthy of your touch.
“I think we should probably talk…” you chuckled sheepishly, suddenly feeling slightly awkward but you faced him, and he replied with a nod.
There were words brewing inside Azriel, thoughts and feelings he had only recently come to terms with in your absence. But before he could find the courage to speak, you surprised him with an unexpected apology.
“I’m really sorry Az.”
Azriel began to shake his head. He was confused, you had nothing to be sorry for.
“Az, please, let me say my piece,” you insisted, your hands finding his on his lap. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine as your thumb traced over the scars on his hands. “It was unfair of me. I’ve realised that now. The position I put you in.”
Azriel shook his head gently, but you pressed on, your gaze drifting to the sky as you cringed a little when reflecting on your confession you had dramatically spilled to Azriel all those months ago. “The expectations I had for you, expecting you to return my feelings when I had never even made my affection clear—it was unfair.”
“Y/n…” Azriel murmured softly, disbelief colouring his voice.
“It’s my fault for not being honest,” you continued, a self-deprecating laugh escaping your lips. “How can I expect someone to return my feelings if I don’t make them known? So silly of me, really.”
You squeezed his hands gently, and Azriel felt a tug at his heart as he listened to your words. “And I realised when I was away that it was okay if you didn’t feel the same. If you wanted someone else. Whether that be Elain…” You trailed off, acknowledging that perhaps that wasn't to be Azriel's fate anymore. “Or someone else entirely. As long as they made you happy.”
“Because truly, that’s all I want. And it’s genuinely what you deserve.”
Azriel was at a loss for words, his mind racing. This wasn’t how he had expected this conversation to go. No, he thought it would be a chance for him to be honest, but as he looked at you, so radiant and at peace he couldn’t bring himself to selfishly express his deepest desires.
Didn’t dare to disrupt the healing you had clearly worked so hard on.
“You’re so wonderful, Azriel,” you beamed, holding his hands tightly. “So wonderful that I’m just grateful for a part of you. This part of you—the part where we’re best friends.”
“So what do you say Az, best friends again?”
He saw it then, the slight fear in your eyes that he might reject this too. So he buried whatever feelings had creeped up these past months, assuring himself too that even just a small part of you was all he needed.
“Always.” A smile spread on his lips gently, and he watched as the shaky breath you’d been keeping in left your lips. You laughed softly before pouncing on the Shadowsinger, hugging him tightly.
This would be enough, he told himself.
This was all you needed, you told yourself.
Who would have guessed you'd both become a pair of liars.
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Final Part >>
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a/n: oh wait sorry, was this the second part you wanted...wait no, you wanted them to get together??....hmmm you might just have to wait and see ;) but I promise I'll try give you the resolution you want! - Lottie
Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass@alittlelostalittlefound-blog@milswrites@amberlynn98@marscardigan @illyrianbitch
945 notes · View notes
sarahghetti · 2 months
Text
moving day; m.k.
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pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader
summary: how marc and steven learn to live together, how you come to live with them, and how jake finally lets himself live at all.
warnings: basically a BIG character study into our boys, fluff, hurt and comfort, angst, insecurity, mentions of marc's childhood, mentions of violence, suggestive content but nothing explicit.
word count: 9.9k
notes: this one got away from me and might also be the best thing I've ever written (i'm very proud of it 😭). part of the @MOONKNIGHT-EVENTS bingo! prompt: “'is that my shirt?'”
MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS
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Even though it was (and still is) under Marc’s name, the flat was Steven’s first. Marc just helped set it up a little.
He rented out the first decent unit he found in the city and kept every piece of mismatched furniture the previous tenant left behind. The essentials had to be filled in himself—a bed, couch, and desk. A table to go with that rickety stool to eat meals on, a coat rack near the doorway. The only belongings of his own that Marc left behind were his old Egyptology texts, unceremoniously shoved into a corner of one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that he hoped Steven would like.
(The fish was unexpected, though. Steven already had everything he would need, and it was Marc’s mistake to be scrolling through Facebook Marketplace on one of his last days before he handed it all over to his alter. A complete aquarium set was being offered for next to nothing; attached: a photo of the original poster’s late goldfish. Backlit from the tank light, blank faced and innocent.
He just couldn’t move on.)
But it was Steven who then took Marc’s—their—card and ran with it. Every free surface was prime real estate for another journal, another tomb. The used bookstores of London never stood a chance; it was almost impressive to watch him scour the shelves for the most esoteric topics and still come out with his arms full of what he was looking for. Marc would wake up in the body to find Steven’s collection a little bigger than before and ghost his fingers over the spines during those brief moments of respite before having to put on the suit.
It didn’t stop at the books. Of course, it didn’t. Steven’s always had an affinity for oddities. Marc wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the new paper lantern hung over the living room, or the pumpkin-esque footstool that was coloured as though it was plucked off the vine just a tad too early.
The pieces were quaint at best. If there were any psychological meaning as to why his alter gravitated towards dingy, threadbare upholstery instead of an IKEA like a normal person, it was beyond Marc.
However, he couldn’t not admit that it all kind of worked once put together; the clashing mix of materials and colours sort of became its own style when combined under the wooden rafters. Even when the books started overfilling the storage capacity and ended up in piles on the floor—it only added to the charm.
Marc was sure to erase every trace of his presence around the flat to avoid interfering with Steven’s life, but that didn’t stop the sense of longing to return to their—Steven’s—home during missions.
It was still a mess. A mess where everything has its place, yes, but there was no way that Steven could trip over several odds-and-ends in one day and claim that he was any degree of neat or tidy. Marc silently griped to himself about it all the time, but he’d sooner eat that dusty-ass rug Steven got for free before he saw anything get thrown away.
(It was like this back when they were kids, too. Marc’s childhood bedroom in Chicago—a room he never finds himself thinking about outside of his nightmares—was filled with joy. Medals from peewee baseball. Posters from his favourite movies, carefully smoothened out and taped to the walls by his dad. Drawings by him and Randall piled at the corner of his desk.
Right after the—the accident, all his stuff remained, immortalized in place. As if keeping everything the same would somehow also make Marc’s life the same as it was before, and Randall would come bursting through his door at any moment to ask him to come play. It was an overarching belief in their household. Even on her worst days, his mother’s anger never touched their home. Only him.
But then things began to change. His old action figures, collecting dust, would be strewn about the floor, waiting for someone to continue the battle. A collection of particularly smooth rocks began appearing on his windowsill despite the fact that he hadn’t gone outside in days. He’d wake up to grass-stained jeans and a scraped knee which Marc didn’t know how he got, for once.
Steven has always been like a crow, bringing all these little gifts for Marc to enjoy—these signs of life—even when he wasn’t aware of it.)
-
Coming back from Cairo feels like it should’ve been a bigger deal than it was, but after the dust settled on Harrow and Layla decided to return stateside alone—a decision that seemed a long time coming, if Steven’s being honest—there was nothing else to do other than to go home.
They have one blissful, uninterrupted day of sleep. Steven was the one to wake up sixteen hours later, mouth dry, and instinctively panicked at the thought of losing days again before realizing that Marc was also (and still is) out cold.
When he finally woke up a few hours later, half-asleep even in the reflection of the mirror, Steven couldn’t help himself from asking, “What now, Marc?”
Because Marc was the original. Marc was the one with a real life and legal status. He might never want to walk the streets of Chicago again, but that didn’t change the fact that he only came overseas to run away. Everything around them was a temporary measure.
Marc straightens. “I won’t bother you too much, I promise.”
“You still have your own life,” Steven reminds him.
“Still—”
“Oh, don’t start—”
At least they agreed on one thing: they were going to stay in London.
Marc cleans out his storage unit, bringing home an array of bins and duffel bags and that shitty fold-up cot that he still refuses to toss. Steven immediately got him his own dresser when Marc tried to insist that he ‘didn’t have much’; that was a blaring warning that he was about to do something stupid and sacrificial, and Steven had to put his foot down before a nearby charity got a donation of some well-loved button-downs.
It’s almost funny, how predicable Marc was when unpacking. Steven watched as he pushed all their new furniture against the walls then methodically unpacked bin by bin, stacking the empties inside one another like Russian dolls. Like Steven, everything he owned had a place, even after months spent stored away. Marc was just a lot more neat about it.
“Move my stuff if you want,” Steven pipes up. Marc doesn’t react, only continuing to store his notebooks on top of a filing cabinet. “Really, I’ve already read everything on that middle shelf there—we can put them somewhere else.”
Marc glances around the bookshelves. “Aren’t these alphabetized?”
“Well, mostly, but give me an hour or two and I’ll free up some space.”
It’s like a puzzle, and Steven’s always liked puzzles. Marc’s gone quiet in their head, out of excuses as to why he can just shove all his belongings out-of-sight so that Steven wouldn’t have to go through the effort. Now, if he would just believe Steven, then he’d know that reorganizing his books was hardly any effort at all.
And even if it was—he’s been meaning to do this for a while. An alphabetized collection is great until he gets a new book, because then everything has to be shifted over, and—well. There’s a reason why there were so many books languishing on the floor.
They pass off the body like that for the rest of the day, moving things around in the flat in order to accommodate Marc. It looks no less hectic in the end, despite Marc’s best efforts to tidy up a little, but it also doesn’t look any worse, which Steven sees as a win.
There are still so many things they need to talk about. Scheduling, routines, the fact that they’re currently both out of a job—either one would be lying if they said that this new life didn’t make them a bit nervous. But when Marc finally flops down onto their bed, a movement as easy as breathing, the pieces begin to settle into place. The last of his bins have been put away. His jacket hangs beside Steven’s as if it’s always been there.
In the headspace, Steven beams. Whatever comes, however hard—they’ll face it together.
.
.
.
Somehow, Steven wakes up one day and feels great.
There are a few minutes more until his alarm goes off, but he turns it off early. The usual grogginess that accompanies him this early is completely absent, and he rolls up to a seated position without a single mental or physical protest. He feels so good, in fact, that he even considers skipping his morning cup of tea.
(He doesn’t, of course. They quickly figured out—well, Steven did, Marc already knew—that they differed in their caffeinated beverages of choice. Steven, a strong cup of Yorkshire Gold with a healthy splash of milk and a teaspoon or two of sugar. Marc, a simple drip coffee, black, made from the most generic-looking brand of medium roast beans.
Not to say that he wishes to be separate from Marc or anything of the sort, but Steven imagines his feelings to be like that of a sibling who was always dressed in matching clothes as his brother. Marc might’ve graced Steven with an interest in Egyptology from his mercenary work and Gus from his—their?—brother’s drawing a lifetime ago, but as far as they know, his preference for tea was just a quirk.
Steven likes having something just for him.)
Marc had the body last night—he must’ve gone to bed early. Must’ve drank camomile tea and avoided blue light the entire time he was fronting because Steven could run a marathon like this and still go into work afterwards. He’s about to ask Marc for his secret when he spots an unfamiliar rumple of fabric on the pillow where he laid his head.
“What’s this now?” Steven murmurs, gathering the soft material in his hands. A woman’s sweater, obviously, with its feminine cut and style and faintly sweet scent that short-circuits his brain for a moment.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize how it got inside their flat, what with how there’s a whole other person living in his head, and it would explain the strange marks he found on his neck the other day—
Heat blooms in his face and Steven nearly drops the sweater back onto the pillow in embarrassment. Distantly, he knows that he should’ve seen this coming. Marc is Marc; Steven’s witnessed the quiet confidence the man extrudes from inside their headspace and the resulting, ah, attention it attracts.
In the corner of his eye, his reflection stills. Steven doesn’t even bother turning around—just holds up the offending sweater and asks, “Fun night?”
Marc, strangely, is quiet. It’s not like he’s one to talk about his romantic pursuits, but Steven at least expected a dry comment or two. He shakes the sweater like a bag of treats until Marc scowls. “Stop that.”
“Not judging,” Steven says, “but don’t suppose you got a number? Should I make a run to the donation bin for you?”
“No.” There’s an edge to Marc’s voice, and he purses his lips when he realizes that he responded a little too fast; Steven’s questioning look is pointedly ignored. “Just leave it on my desk for now.”
“Is she coming back or is this just like a—” Steven makes an ambiguous gesture, full of innuendo “—thing for you?”
“What? No—what?”
“Okay, okay,” Steven finally lets up because the groove between his alter’s eyebrows has become something fierce. He slips out of bed to place the sweater on Marc’s desk as requested, then throws one more comment over his shoulder for good measure, “Bring her home for dinner one day, would you?”
“Steven!”
-
“Is that my shirt?” You move towards the armchair, a smile tugging at your lips as you pick up the folded garment. It’s been freshly laundered. Marc wouldn’t burden you if he could help it.
“Mhm.” He doesn’t stir from his seat on the couch, tracking your movements with fondness in his eyes. You’ve been to their place plenty over the past few months and quietly, he relishes in the domesticity.
They’re simple things, like knowing your preferred spoon in their drawer or how you like your toast; the ease in which you curl into the cushions next to him—your spot, he can’t help but note—draws a contented little sigh from him.
“You know, if you want me to do your laundry, you can just ask.”
He would. Steven would prod endlessly as he does with all things related to you, but Marc’s managed to get this far with vague explanations and stubborn hand-waving. He’d endure the nosiness if it were for you.
“Although,” he continues, giving you a once-over. His eyebrow quirks at the familiar cotton long-sleeve enveloping your torso. “I’m not even sure you have laundry anymore.”
“Well, maybe if your clothes weren’t so comfortable, I’d stop stealing them,” you tease.
(His clothes aren’t boring, Steven, just—utilitarian. Between Khonshu and his mercenary work, Marc needed plain, flexible pieces; ones that made him blend in anywhere and ready for anything. Nothing that he could get too attached too, either. Everything he wore was at risk of getting ruined by grime and/or blood and/or tearing from various weapons. Of course, he doesn’t own anything ‘nice.’
Not like Steven. Not with his hodgepodge closet filled with colours and patterns, everything just a tad too large on their frame. Marc groans about it every time he takes over in the middle of the day—just a size down, just one. But the issue is that Steven likes it like that, likes the comfort and roominess he finds in his thrifted pieces, and so Marc dropped it as a serious topic, even though he still doesn’t quite get it.)
“This why you had to wear my jacket the other day?”
Steven’s sudden appearances don’t phase Marc anymore, even when you’re around. He just gives him a slight nod without missing a beat. “At this rate, I won’t have any clothes left for you to take.”
“Guess I’ll just have to borrow something from Steven then, hm?”
Before Marc can even begin to think about what to say to that— “I think my white jumper would suit her really well.”
He shoots a glare into a nearby mirror and just barely catches a glimpse of Steven’s grin in the reflection. Part of him wants to tell Steven to stop hitting on his girlfriend, but hesitates when you look at him expectantly, still waiting for his response.
He’s not ashamed of Steven, far from it. Still, a sliver of self-consciousness worms its way into his chest at the thought of talking to him in front of you. He’s done it before, but—he knows how it can look.
You’re more perceptive than he’d like. Marc sees the moment when it clicks in your head. “Is he here right now?”
Excitement bleeds into your voice. You’ve been wanting to meet Steven for a while. Marc showing up to a date with tousled curls and a colourfully-printed button-up instead of his usual streamlined style, a slew of scribbled papers piled onto the armchair you like to lounge on, a sticky note left on one of your books (‘oooh good choice! x’)—all these things that sent panic strumming through his veins were only ever endearing to you, for some reason. It’s lessened his worry by orders of magnitude.
Still. Letting you meet Steven is one step closer to talking about his childhood. His mom. His brother. He’s given you a high- high-level view of things (“It wasn’t great.”), but the thought of going any further makes his throat tighten. There’s a whole failed marriage that proves his inability to be vulnerable.
So, it must truly be a bout of madness that makes him say, “The white one.”
“What?”
“What?”
“The white sweater,” Marc continues, because he’s already thrown himself off the bridge—there’s no use trying to backtrack now. “He says you’d look good in his white sweater.”
Your face slowly morphs into an expression of pure joy; you do nothing short of jump off the couch to bolt to their bedroom. Steven chatters excitedly in his ear, only pausing momentarily when you slip off Marc’s shirt.
“Oh! Um! She’s—she’s very—wow—" Marc feels the strangest urge to punch himself in the face again—
—And then you reappear into their field of view, a dream in fine knit. Steven’s sweater be damned, your beaming smile is more than enough to render them both speechless.
“How do I look?”
The sweater isn’t his, but it stirs the same syrupy feelings in Marc anyway. You’ve spoken about it before—and him privately with Steven—where Steven stands in your relationship with Marc. All he’s ever let himself hope for was for you and Steven to be cordial, maybe even friends. Of course, he’d have to actually let you guys speak to each other for any of that to be possible, but you two seem to have grown comfortable with each other regardless.
Now, he sees you in Steven’s clothes and his thoughts run rampant. Ours. He tests out the word and his heart skips a beat. It’s always been a possibility; one you all were open to if it ever happened. But he could never ask either of you to try to love each other on his behalf.
God, that word does something stupid to his brain—Steven’s rattling off compliments and other things of his you should try on and invites to go thrifting—and Marc just sits there, dumbfounded by his own hypothetical scenario. “Come on, Marc, say something!”
You move to stand in front of him, and his thighs part automatically to have you close. It takes your hand on his cheek, gentle as you stroke your thumb over his skin, to pull him back to reality. “You okay?”
“You look incredible.” His voice dips in the way he knowsmakes your stomach swoop, and is promptly rewarded with your flustered smile. The moment doesn’t last—not with Steven cooing in his ear over you.
A pang of possessiveness runs through Marc. That smile was for him, thank you very much.
His mouth works faster than his brain. “Steven has something to tell you.”
You light up. “Really?”
“Wants to tell you himself, actually.”
Steven splutters, nerves coming on in full force. Marc bites his tongue to keep a straight face. “Well, now, hang on a minute—”
Steven’s introduction was always going to be a well-thought-out but casual event, as to not make a circus out of it. It was just who they were, after all. They wouldn’t switch in front of you—Steven would change into his wardrobe and ‘do’ his hair beforehand; Marc worried it might be too much for you to see him but hear Steven. He would’ve prepped you both plenty in the preceding days, regardless of how necessary it was.
It definitely would not be the stunt he’s pulling right now.
Your eyes narrow at the placid look on his face, too casual to not be suspicious, but meeting Steven must outweigh the want to catch Marc in the act of whatever he’s planning because you don’t call him out, hands frozen on his face. It’s cute, watching you struggle between overt enthusiasm and not wanting to pressure them into anything.
Marc would even enjoy it a little longer if it weren’t for the confused and alarmed word vomit spilling out in his head.
“Stop messing about—I mean, it’s not—not odd, yeah? For me to front a little? Just a little chat, can’t be all that bad. Please be messing with me, but I can do it, s’not a big deal. Yeah, yeah, it’s whatever—oh, boy."
Taking pity on the poor guy, Marc quiets him with a steady glance into the mirror. “You sure, buddy?”
Slightly shrill but no less serious, “Are you sure, Marc?”
And then Marc’s fun little charade teeters on its head—is he ready for this? You and Steven wouldn’t hold it against him if he pulled the plug on it all right now, but this is the closest he’s ever gotten. The band-aid has to come off, lest he lets this fester for the length of another relationship.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, his flare of panic comforted by the patience in your eyes. More confidently this time, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Steven’s smile is clear in his voice. It mirrors your own.
“About time, innit?”
-
Moving into their flat isn’t a decision you make all at once, but rather a slow, steady conclusion that you’ve been unintentionally working towards ever since you first visited.
The clothes were just the start. It’s not like you didn’t have perfectly good clothes before you met Marc, but his were just better somehow. Soft and simple, all in that neutral colour scheme he seemed to gravitate towards. The warm, woodsy scent of his aftershave clings to the fabric, making you want to bury your nose into the garments and go right back to the source—
You just couldn’t help yourself from borrowing something whenever you came over.
(That pleased, half-lidded gaze you receive each time you slip on his shirt, or his heated touch whenever he drapes his jacket over your shoulders during chilly morning afters—well. Those are just a bonus.)
So, maybe you left a shirt or two behind in the process. And maybe you realized that you should probably have a pair of sweatpants there as well, and a good book to read during quiet nights in. Once, you forgot your toothbrush only for Marc to pull out an extra from their medicine cabinet; now you have a toothbrush in their bathroom.
After you finally met Steven and his adorable, eclectic self—all bets were off. You bond while scouring vintage shops and finding new pieces for the flat. A little basket of throw blankets gets added to the living room (always neatly sorted by Marc, without fail). Candles—tall and stout, festive and fruity and spiced—start to litter the shelves. A particularly good haul at a used bookstore, a bit heavy for you to carry home, is instead slotted amongst their collection; the contemporary fonts and colourful covers are a stark contrast against the yellowing older texts, and you love it.
Your fingerprints are all over the place by the time Marc officially empties some space in his dresser for you, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes as he speaks, “Just in case you wanted to keep some more stuff here.”
You were already using their closets before then (in both the storing-your-clothes sense and the stealing-their-clothes sense); you’ve practically taken over one of his drawers. But to give you one outright, to admit that he’s carved out some space just for you instead of silently accommodating your things as he always has—
“Thank you, Marc,” you whisper, brimming with emotion that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to fully express. He’ll flit about and clean and care for you because words will never capture the depth of his feelings. You see this for what it is, like all the gestures that have come before: a declaration.
“Thank you,” you repeat, and press a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth. “I love you, too.”
It’s not much long after when Steven comes home from work grinning like a madman, one hand held behind his back. He beelines towards you, not even bothering to put his bag down.
“Hey, you.” You peck his lips and feel his smile stretch impossibly wider. “What’s got you all riled up?”
The words come out in a rush. “Havesomethingforyou.”
“Oh?”
“Close your eyes.” You can’t help but laugh a little as you follow the direction; Steven’s excitement is utterly infectious. “Okay, now hold out your hand.”
“If you give me a bug, I swear to God—”
“I would never.” His seriousness is a bit too heavy-handed, and you get a feeling you’re going to need to be on guard for a while.
You’re distracted, however, by the brush of his skin as he places something small and rigid into your palm. The metal is warm from being clasped inside his hand, but the shape is so familiar that you recognize what it is immediately.
“You can open—”
You’re already looking down—at the silver key to the flat nestled in your hand. Lonesome without the Koala plushie on Steven’s keyring, without the little charm you got for Marc’s—no, it’s meant to be your copy.
“We were thinking, right,” he starts before your heart has the opportunity to beat right out your chest, “Marc and I—well, you’re here with us most of the time. You should have your own key. Beats having to come grab mine from the museum, right?”
You let out a choked little laugh, too caught up to remind him that the only reason why you went to the museum was because else he would’ve dropped everything to deliver the keys himself. Spent his entire break and then some to commute back home so that you wouldn’t have to wait for his shift to be over, even though you could’ve amused yourself just fine outside until then.
“Yeah,” is all you manage to get out before stepping forward, burying your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso. Steven’s love is unbridled; he holds you close, going on about how glad he is—how glad they both are—to have you, how he was practically bouncing off the walls at the locksmith, waiting for the key to be cut.
They’ve been your home for so long now that while the new addition onto your keyring makes you giddy and smile stupidly whenever you get to use it, it also just feels right. You go grocery shopping with Marc and watch him scrutinize apples like they personally offended him. Steven tangles your legs together as you wind down in the evenings, and always always smiles whenever he catches you looking at him. You rank the restaurants around the neighbourhood and line your favourite mugs beside each other on the shelf; you sit in the comforting quiet of the flat and wonder how you got so lucky.
When it’s eventually time to renew your lease, there’s no decision to be made. You’re relieved from dinner prep to write the email to your landlord on their couch. It’s sent off with no fanfare and quickly forgotten about when Marc’s voice rings out, asking what you want to eat.
“Anything,” you say, the ghost of a smile on your lips; he hates it when you say that. Marc grumbles a little, but you mean it this time. You have them and they have you. Curled up in one of Steven’s sweaters, Marc’s playlist on low in the background—anything is just fine by you.
.
.
.
You are the bane of Jake’s existence.
First, you meet Marc. Terrible. Khonshu is riding his ass about a mission in Liverpool—they’ve now been geolocked to stay under the radar—and Marc plans a date. An actual, Godforsaken date with a set time, throwing a wrench into their plans because Steven’s been scheduled to work on the surrounding days as well. How is he supposed to sneak off to the other side of the country now?
Even worse, you stick around. There are more dates between the two of you. For how much he hates texting, Marc responds promptly whenever you send him something. He frets over what to wear before picking you up. You stay over at the flat and he holds you in his sleep like he’s afraid you’ll disappear; Jake has been unluckily enough to wake up in the middle of the night, planning to slip away, only to be hit with the scent of your shampoo in his nose.
Then—and then—Marc has the bright idea to introduce you to Steven. The hope that this is just a casual, temporary thing is dashed away the second Jake sees that lovesick expression on the idiota. It’s more overt than Marc’s, but still the same blaring warning sign that Jake’s life is only about to get harder from here.
Keeping a low profile has become incredibly difficult since the others decided to be normal. Marc never questioned whenever Jake took over in a tight spot, too hyped up on adrenaline and too stubborn about their condition to follow up on his blackouts after the fight was done. Steven was clueless about everything for those first few months, then just blamed his blackouts on Marc.
But now? They talk to each other. They have a year-long calendar on the fridge with a magnetic pen holder to keep track of their schedules, colour-coded blue (for Marc) and green (for Steven). They’ve gotten distracted and added another consciousness for Jake to deceive in order to do his thing. He can’t take the body for more than a few hours, and certainly not by force, without drawing suspicion.
Jake’s happy for them. Really, he is. They’ve finally begun to move on from the trauma of their childhood into something that resembles a normal life. Steven’s gotten rehired at the museum as a tour guide. Marc’s taken up security consulting. And despite their respective anxiousness and ten-foot-walls, you bring them peace.
But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s Khonshu’s avatar now. That a lifetime ago, when the work began to wear down on Marc in all the worst ways, Jake was the one who cut a deal with the god for his release. All he had to do was take his place.
(Foresight might not be his strong suit, but he refuses to take responsibility for what happened next. He could never have imagined all the puppetry that’d occur with Layla in the mix, or that they’d actually divorce one of these days and end up with someone new.
Except this time, you know about their system and not about Khonshu. He wonders how well you’d take that whole mess.)
In short—Marc and Steven still need him. He can’t just up and disappear into the recesses of their mind; he has a job to do.
So, when Steven presses that fucking key into your hand, Jake’s so frustrated he could scream. Unfettered access to the flat—as if you weren’t there enough already. As if he weren’t already jumping through every hoop imaginable, just to keep his existence a secret. He would’ve made them drop the copy down the nearest gutter on the way home if he didn’t know that they would simply go right back to the locksmith and ask for another.
Steven watches as you slip it onto your keychain; that all-encompassing, vibrant burst of joy in their chest be damned—you are the worst thing to ever happen to Jake, even if you might be the best thing to ever happen to them.
-
Steven had the flat, Marc had his storage unit, and Jake?
Jake has his car.
Multiple, actually, but the limousine is the legal one (thanks for your identity, Marc) and serves as his homebase. Supplies are stashed in compartments around the cabin—weapons, clothes, cash—and with its heavily tinted windows, he can do anything he wants inside and passersby would be none the wiser. When Khonshu’s booming voice echoes around his brain about some new target, at least Jake can recline into a soft leather seat.
The only issue is that he can’t keep everything there. No, the parking garage is a fair distance away from the flat and sometimes, he doesn’t have the opportunity to make the trip before setting off. This means that he has to keep a change of clothes in the flat to avoid accidentally ruining some of Steven’s or Marc’s. He’d never actually wear anything of Steven’s to begin with (at least, not on a mission), but Marc’s wardrobe is minimal by choice—if something went missing or got a new, unexplained hole in it, he’d notice.
That’s why Jake is currently slinking through their living room, ready to change back into Steven’s pajamas before hiding his clothes on the loft above their bed. Nothing up there but empty bins and poster tubes. Marc regularly dusts the area during his monthly deep cleans, so Jake doesn’t even have to worry about leaving behind any tracks.
It was an easy job tonight, done in little less than an hour and not a speck on Jake to show for it. He could take a shower if he wanted—you’re staying over at a friend’s place right now, as noted in red on the calendar. But he shouldn’t keep the body for longer than necessary; they still need sleep, after all.
He slips off his flat cap, groaning as he runs a hand through his hair. God, they’re getting old. Even this stolen hour will be felt by whoever wakes up in the morning, slightly slower and groggier than usual.
(Jake doesn’t think about the future—has never needed to. The only future that exists to him is the next minute, and the minute after that, and what he has to do to ensure the body makes it there. Him and Marc were similar in that aspect for a long, long time.
That calendar on the fridge, while helpful to his vigilantism, stirs something uncomfortable in his gut. He’s seen them flip through the months to mark down birthdays and reservations. Vacations, work events—Marc’s going on a completely normal, non-violent work trip, which Jake still can’t quite wrap his head around—and it’s all so far ahead.
How can they be so sure that nothing will change between now and then? That their life won’t blow up again, and force them on the run? Everything they add is just another handful of salt to be pressed into the wound when it all goes to hell. But they still write things on that stupid calendar. Confident, excited even, about the plans they think will come to pass.
How do they know?)
There’s a rustling in the bedroom.
Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—
“Marc?”
You shift a little under the covers, trying to peer at him through the darkness. Jake’s never been more grateful for Marc’s sensible taste in fashion; with only a silhouette to go by, of course you’d mistake him for Marc—straight-cut jeans, a collared jacket. His flat cap would tip you off though, and he presses it into his chest to hide it from your line of sight. Marc would never wear a flat cap.
He forces a casual tone. “Hm?”
A small sigh of relief escapes you as your head falls back onto the pillow. Still watching him, though, you mumble, “Bad dream?”
You know about Marc’s time in the military and as a mercenary. Not everything, obviously, but enough. Jake nods, and can imagine the worried purse of your lips in the shadows. In the best impression he can manage, his accent turns Chicagoan. “Just had to take a walk.”
If he were really Marc, he’d already be in bed by now, letting you brush curls away from his face and press a kiss against the furrow of his brow. If he were really Marc, he’d ask you why you were back here instead of with your friends as expected, and you’d talk things out until dozing off in a tangle of limbs, comforted by each other’s presence.
But Jake’s not Marc. He brushes off the subtle tightening of his chest as just a lingering remnant from his alters. The body knows you, even if Jake doesn’t. It doesn’t mean anything to him.
You whine, a sleepy and pitiful but inviting noise from the back of your throat as he continues to stand in the living room. Alarm bells go off in his head; he has to placate you before you get up and try to drag him over yourself.
“Just need to change,” he says, soft and low, warmth injected into every word. Nausea courses through him, to his own confusion, as he continues to play Marc. This should be easier—he’s been hiding for as long as he can remember. This is probably the tamest thing he’s done to keep his cover. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be there in a second, okay?”
He takes two steps towards the kitchen then stops, feigning—feigning something, fuck if he knows—waiting for your breathing to level out again. Silence falls over the flat, but Jake’s mouth runs dry.
There’s no way you don’t bring this up to them in the morning, and there’s no way they won’t immediately suspect another alter. They know he exists, have seen the aftermath of when he fronts. It’s only his secrecy that has kept them off his back for this long, and it will all come crashing down in a few hours.
For better or for worse, he’ll have to meet the others soon.
-
Marc will never tire of waking up beside you. Even though there’s a heaviness weighing him down, body aching for just a few more minutes, he pushes through because you’re already awake. With one hand on his chest, the other tracing over his jaw—the small, lazy smile on your face has already made his day.
You turned over while he was asleep, but his arm is still slung over your waist; he pulls you closer to press a kiss onto your forehead. Lips moving against your skin, “Morning, baby.”
“Morning,” you murmur. “Feel better?”
Mind hazy from sleep, Marc doesn’t question the odd wording. He just let’s himself settle into the lingering fatigue, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter shut again. “M’tired. Stay with me a little longer?”
Concern laces your tone. “Was the dream that bad?”
That breaks through to him. He peers at you curiously, more alert than before. “What do you mean?”
You blink, confused. “Your nightmare last night. You left to take a walk?”
Marc sits up, furrowing his brow. Reality seeps in, and he checks the date on his phone. Aren’t you supposed to be—? “I thought you were staying over at a friend’s place.”
“I was going to, but she had a family emergency—I came back here around three. Don’t worry, they walked me home,” you explain with a soft pat of your hand at the end. That—that is one mystery solved, and he is glad to hear that you weren’t walking alone at night, but his shoulders remain taut with tension. His mind gets caught on a detail.
“Three?” He’s a light sleeper, he would’ve woken up when you came into bed. But—your words replay in his mind. He wasn’t here when that happened, was he? “I went on a walk?”
His stress begins to spill over to you, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, fiddling at the blankets. “Um, yeah. We spoke a little when you came back—I was already in bed, remember?”
A pit opens up in his stomach, and the words die in this throat. Marc does not, in fact, remember. He apparently went outside in the middle of the night, long enough for you to come home and settle in without him, then had a whole conversation upon return—and none of it is familiar to him. Not even a hint of déjà vu.
He throws off the covers, on his feet in seconds despite your protests. All hisblackouts, the ones he thought were finished after traversing the Duat—
That third sarcophagus—
Is this what it was like for Steven? To wake up, not knowing what your body has done, where it’s been—if it’s hurt someone?
Marc might actually puke if he thinks about it for too long. And God, you live with them now: him, Steven, and what Marc wishes was a complete unknown. But the truth is—they aren’t an unknown. No, Marc is fully aware of what this alter is capable of.
“Oh, bugger, what’s going on?” Steven must feel his panic, reflects it in kind. He must be expecting bloodshed with how fast their heart is racing.
Marc says nothing and flings open the tri-mirror on the wall, bracing himself with both hands on the sink below. He sees himself in the center, a bull primed to fight. Steven’s to the left, so fearful he’s nearly frozen still. And to the right—
To the right—
-
So. Jake hasn’t really prepared for this situation, to be honest.
He’ll face anything head-on to keep the body safe, but imagining himself as the threat? Never crossed his mind. There’s anger in their blood, and Marc’s liable to cracking the porcelain with his grip. If looks could kill, Jake would be dead ten times over.
The few times he wondered what it would be like to actually meet Marc and Steven, the worst that could happen was that they disliked him. Unfortunate, but he’d live. He didn’t need their approval to do his job.
But through the blood rushing in their ears, he can hear you; still in bed, barely breathing as you watch everything unfold. And that’s when he remembers—
You are the bane of his existence.
Because Marc and Steven aren’t just thinking about their own self-preservation. No, now they have you to protect, and the lengths that they would go to do that, well—Jake begrudgingly has to admit that they might rival some of his own efforts for them.
He’d let them stare at themselves forever in the mirror if it weren’t for that fact. They would never give up on trying to talk to him. Steven was clever enough with the sand and tape and ankle restraint; he doesn’t want to think about what sort of traps they’d create with Marc in the mix. Jake would probably still evade them all, but they’d drive themselves crazy in their attempts.
They’ve really left him no choice. For the first time, he lets himself be seen.
-
You’ve watched Marc and Steven talk to each other plenty of times. It’s really no big deal. They’re just normal conversations where you can only hear one side, and usually taken through the nearest reflective surface.
But this? This is an interrogation. Marc slackens his jaw for just a moment before everything in him tenses again. He speaks through clenched teeth, as if barely controlling the severity of his thoughts—you can’t help but brace yourself for impact. “Who are you?”
The pause as he waits for the other alter, whoever they are, to respond is maddening. It wasn’t quite fear that gripped you when you realized that it wasn’t Marc last night—to be honest, you don’t know what to feel—but the scene in front of you has you reevaluating your initial reaction.
That initial reaction being, well—the same thing you felt when you Marc told you about Steven: curiosity. You wanted to meet Steven. Almost begged for the chance near the end. Whoever this is—
“Jake.”
The name grates itself out of Marc’s throat, and you cling to the information like a life raft.
“Jake.” You can’t help but test it out on your tongue, squinting a little as you look at your boyfriend and try to see yourself calling him that. Marc looks towards you. There’s a storm of emotions in his eyes, but there’s no time to decipher any of them—a moment later, he turns back towards the mirror with a scowl.
“Why should I believe you?” The lines on his face deepen; Marc grits his teeth so hard you yearn to hold him, but you’re frozen to the spot.
“I don’t know that. After you—” his eyes dart between you and his reflection so fast, you might’ve imagined it “—after what you’ve done?”
A wave of dread washes over you.
He’s not talking about last night.
No, Marc—Marc has interacted with Jake before, and whatever happened must’ve crossed a line. Must’ve crossed several lines because of how he’s acting right now, and you want to bury yourself under the covers, still fisted tightly in your hands.
He laughs bitterly. The sound rakes through your ears. “You call that protecting us?”
Your blood runs cold. With no real context and spiked with adrenaline, your mind runs rampant with the possibilities, connects all the worst dots.
There’s no way—
“Lay a hand on her and I swear—”
You want to run and you want to hide and you want their arms around you, assuring you of—of anything. You need to leave this building and also never go outside again, because your head begins to pound with each thought that passes through.
You can still see the worry flare in Marc’s eyes when you accidentally grabbed the handle of a hot pan, the dutiful and tender way he held your hand under the tap for no less than fifteen minutes—
You can still hear Steven’s babbling when your new shoes rubbed your ankles red and raw while on a walk, distracting you from the pain the best he could until you got back home—
You are just so acutely aware of their love—that Marc and Steven would never dare hurt you. It’s impossible to reconcile your memories of them with the picture that’s being painted of Jake right now.
No. You can’t believe it.
You’re not even hearing their conversation anymore, your heartbeat is too loud. Breathing returns to you in a rush—you never even realized you stopped—and your vision swims with light-headedness.
None of it makes sense.
It—it can’t—
The mattress dips beside you, but you barely feel it. Someone’s cupping your cheeks, grounding you back into the flat, your home, and you know these hands. You know this voice, soothing in your ear, even as you shut your eyes.
They say that they’re sorry. They say that you’ll be okay.
They call you princesa.
-
It feels strange walking around the flat, knowing that he’s welcome there now.
Jake’s seen every nook and cranny through Marc and Steven, but to actually be able to explore the place himself—he’s like a kid in a toy store. He can’t help but run his fingers over everything. The spines on the bookshelves, the mismatched dishware in the cabinets. That velvet throw pillow, which you are so fond of playing with during movies—yeah, he gets it.
He’s not going to be talking to you for a while, though. After his rocky first meeting with Marc and Steven, which also coincides with the absolute worst possible first meeting with you—
It’s best to steer clear for a while.
Jake let the other two do the explaining. He watched silently as Marc told you about his past—told you about why he was discharged from the Marines and the scenes he’d wake up to after Jake had fronted—hands shaking as they held onto yours. He watched as Steven took over when it got to be too much, adding in the finer details and clarifications, steadier but no less genuine than Marc. Their arms were gentle as Steven held you in their lap, patient as you stumbled through how you felt.
“Marc seemed so mad at Jake.” You clutched at Steven’s shirt, sniffling into his neck. “I didn’t know what was happening, I—I was scared.”
No. Jake furiously shakes his head as if it would jostle the memory out of his brain. Just thinking about it threatens to unravel him, and he has to keep it together. He’s on thin ice as is.
You had been the one to temper their emotions—the sight of you panicking on their bed grinding all other issues to a halt. The conversation couldn’t continue until you were okay, and this time, Steven kept you in the loop.
Steven is wary. Steven needles him about what he’s been doing all this time, asks him what he’s going to do now with short little mhms. Steven is also the one to buy a new set of pens (because black is already used for non-individual specific events) and designates him as orange.
Marc doesn’t trust Jake at all and admits it outright. It’s—it stings more than he thought it would, but he understands. He always knew that Marc would take a while to come around, especially with you to consider—
Jake doesn’t know why he worries so much about your opinion. Protecting you is an extension of protecting the body, but he never used to care about what Marc or Steven had to say. He hates the caution in your voice when you talk about him and can’t help but appreciate you trying anyways.
He pinches himself. You’re not his to think about, period.
Acknowledging his existence also, sort of, comes with accepting it. Steven somehow finds the space for another dresser in their already cramped bedroom. Jake doesn’t even have enough possessions in general to fill that thing—not counting all the weapons and ammo that Marc would definitely have their head for if he brought them into the flat.
It’s an olive branch on both sides, though. They’re committing to having him around. He’s committing to being around, instead of lurking in the background of their lives.
His clothes only fill up the first drawer but—it’s nice. Jake stares at the thing a lot more than a used, scratched-up piece of furniture probably warrants. He can barely admit it to himself but this, all of it—going outside during the day, eating a freshly-cooked meal, even just relaxing in bed without immediately trying to go to sleep in order to Protect the Body—it really is just nice.
(Since when did he describe anything as nice?)
Then—your keys turn in the door.
.
.
.
Jake hits the eject button so fast, Steven’s probably going to get whiplash.
“Nice reflexes,” he grumbles as you enter the flat. It was funny the first few dozen times. Now? That twat’s just being a coward.
“I’m home!” You call out as Steven rounds the corner to greet you, tote bag nearly bulging in your hand. He pecks your lips as he helps you out of your jacket, then hangs it up beside the three others on the rack. “There was a little creators’ market in the park—you should’ve seen it!”
“Think I’m seeing it now,” he chuckles, moving to help you with your tote. You slink past him at the last second, grinning. “Come on, love, show us what you got!”
“They’re gifts! Just hang on.” You place the bag on the dining table and enraptured, he pulls up a stool. His head rests on his chin as he waits for you to unpack. “Okay, first, for Marc—”
You reach your hand inside and reveal a pair of black leather gloves. Not driving gloves like Jake’s—there’re far less embellishments all around. But they’re warm and flexible, perfect for colder weather. Inside, the lining is made with a material so soft that when trying one on, Steven can’t help but laugh a little in disbelief.
“Treading on my territory, pendejo?”
Marc snipes back, “Like you own a monopoly on leather gloves.”
Steven lets Marc pull to the front. An easy smile spreads on his face as he flexes his hand, testing his movement. “Thanks, baby. I really like them.”
He takes your chin into his gloved hand to thank you properly, slotting his lips against yours with no shortage of appreciation. His grip is an anchor, holding you in place as he kisses you, deep and languid. Like you have all the time in the world despite the heat flickering across his skin. When Marc gets like this, it’s not long before you start squirming under him, and your hands paw at his neck for something more.
That’s his cue to finally pull away, smirking as he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. Whether it’s the leather or him or both, he can see the effect on you, the dazed look you give him when you bat your eyes open.
Let Jake try and beat that.
“Oi! Share!”
Marc sighs. Drops his forehead to yours and reluctantly doesn’t continue any further. “Steven wants his gift now.”
“Oh,” you laugh a little, realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in. “Maybe I should’ve done Steven’s first.”
Marc steals one more kiss before retreating again, and Steven is back, clearly eager for many different reasons now. After putting Marc’s new gloves to the side, you don’t make him wait a second longer; you pull out a stunning new button-up, deep navy with a pattern of large teal palm leaves and hints of salmon accents all over.
All traces of joy disappear from Marc’s voice. “Oh, my fucking God.”
“She’s an enabler. I can’t believe it.”
Steven gapes, amazed. “How did you—”
“I had to go digging,” you admit, gesturing widely. “There were so many racks, we need to go back! I only had my one bag!”
“There’s no way people actually buy this stuff.”
“Ahh, well, it’s not that bad—"
“Are you kidding me?”
Ignoring the fashion police in his head, Steven immediately switches shirts and tosses the old one somewhere behind him. Based on Marc’s grunt, he missed the couch, but also can hardly find himself to care.
He doesn’t even bother doing up the buttons, because he knows where you’ll put your hands when he descends upon your face. Kiss after kiss on your cheeks, forehead, and nose, and soon enough you’re giggling loudly into the air. Your hands are warm against his bare torso, pulling him closer even as their stubble tickles your skin.
“Stevie—Steven! There’s one more!”
He’s not letting you off that easily, though, and finally captures your lips with his. That does buy him a few more blissful seconds until you manage to push him away; breathing heavily, you point sternly in his direction—behave.
Steven schools his expression into one of perfect obedience, teasing, but you barely even react. With one glance back down at the table, it’s like the tote bag sucked away your excitement, leaving shy uncertainty in its wake. You’re biting your lip as you reach for the last gift, quiet.
Marc hums, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Steven offers you an encouraging little smile and is about to say something when you produce the last gift in a rush, still not meeting their eyes.
It’s a simple wool scarf, colour-blocked in soft browns and greys. He waits as you fiddle with it in your hands, trying to find the words.
“He doesn’t have a scarf,” you blurt out. When Steven doesn’t respond immediately, you continue. “Jake, I mean—I don’t think he has one. I thought it would be nice.”
He follows your gaze to the coat rack near the door, filled with four sets of outerwear. It clearly doesn’t fit all the jackets owned in the household, but his favourite is hung up next to Marc’s, which is hung up beside your overcoat and Jake’s collared jacket. Various cold weather accessories are layered onto the hooks as well, multiple pairs of gloves, hats—but there are only three scarves.
Come to think of it, Steven hasn’t seen Jake ever wear a scarf either. “You’re right, love. Doesn’t his neck get cold? I know our neck gets cold.”
The corners of your mouth tug up a little and he grins, triumphant. He tunes into his head, making sure he doesn’t miss any of Jake’s reaction, but nothing comes. That’s odd. It doesn’t feel like he’s gone, more like—holding his breath.
“Think he’ll like it?” You tilt your head, though your true question is clear on your face.
The words can’t come out of Jake fast enough. “I’m not here right now.”
“Jesus, man.”
Steven huffs but covers for his alter; they’ll press him about it another time. “Once he sees it, I don’t think he’ll ever take it off.”
The gloves and scarf are added to the coat rack, which is liable to falling over one of these days due to the heavy load it’s carrying. With no shortage of complaining from Marc, Steven picks up his discarded shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket. It’s almost full—he makes a note to do a load later this week.
He must look ridiculous, parading around in an undone button-up, but you have nothing but fondness for him when he returns to cuddle with you on the couch. You’ve changed into Marc’s sweater and have to move no less than five decorative pillows in order to make enough space.
Marc makes a distressed noise when Steven throws one of them to the side. “It’s fine—”
It hits the standing lamp and you both freeze as you watch it teeter on its base, creaking ominously. After a moment, it steadies again.
“It’s only fine because of your weak throw.”
Steven splutters as he pulls you into his side. “We have the same arm!”
They bicker about the mechanics of their body, whether muscle memory crosses over when they switch or not. Marc is squarely of the opinion: No. Steven reminds him of when he punched the Jackal, and the conversation continues to devolve. Jake refrains from getting involved but spurs them on regardless with a well-placed snicker here and there.
It’s an aimless argument that has you burying your face in your hands because you’re laughing too hard; one of many that have taken place and one of many that have yet to occur.
In the morning, Marc will cook you breakfast and throw an eggshell into the bin from across the kitchen just to prove a point. Steven will go back to the market with you to buy armfuls of his favourite clothing and home goods, and he’ll add one more to his bag for every snide comment Marc makes. And Jake—
Jake will take a little while longer until he feels ready to speak to you, but you see the scarf gather raindrops and the warm, woodsy smell of their aftershave as he wears it every time he goes outside. Always see it hung up neatly on the rack, on top of his jacket so it can properly dry.
And with all four of you settled in, their cluttered little flat in London—long overflowing with books and clothes, your favourite comforts and some truly unique furniture—finally started to feel complete.
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britishchick09 · 2 years
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after rewrite christine saves raoul and erik in the final lair scene, a mob arrives. erik tells raoulstine to escape and christine wants to take him with them, but he’s afraid of putting all of them in danger. heartbroken, christine turns to go, stopping only when erik whispers, “christine... i-“ BAM! a shot rings out! :o
but what if raoulstine left before that shot? would erik be forced to return to the circus like he fears? would he die from his wound like in the mini series or perish from a broken heart like in the book? would he escape like in the musical? (and hope he doesn’t go to coney island...) would raoulstine flee to norway like in the book or would christine return to erik like in lnd?
there are so many ways that it could go, but i’m glad the way i chose has a happily ever after :) ...with trauma
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lovifie · 2 months
Text
Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 7: Price’s Date
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
W: Price x Reader, inaccuracies around gun-related stuff, use of Sir (like a brat), something with cameras.
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Not too far away, at the base, a phone rings inside Price's office. His eyebrow furrows for a second at the unknown ringtone, until he remembers is the burner phone he has with only your number on it, the same case for all the 141 task force. An extra security step he is more than willing to take. 
“What’s wrong, love?” He asks, once he picks up the phone, worry clear in his voice. 
“Nothing!” You quickly reassure him. “I was just wondering… are you busy tomorrow?”
Price looks at his agenda, it is filled to the brim with meetings and things to do. “I could move some things, why?”
“I thought you would like to go on a date… with me?”
“Are you… are you asking me out on a date, doll?”
You remain silent for a second. “Maybe… Only if you want…”
“I do!” He quickly says before you can step back. “I just thought it would be me asking you out.”
“So do it.”
Price chuckles, the sound travelling through to your ears making you smile. “Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” You quickly answer. “I would like it very much, John.” 
The sound of his name leaving your mouth travelling straight to his dick. “Sounds like a date then, love. I’ll drop by the house tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you then the time, sounds good?”
“Sounds perfect.” You mutter back. “See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow, love.”
After another beat of silence, the beep beep beep indicates one of you hung up. 
Price claps his hands as if his football team just scored a goal before quickly collecting himself and getting back to work wanting to get done as much as possible. 
On the other side of the line, Johnny keeps teasing you about how you looked like a teenager asking his crush out while Simon laughs at the both of you.
“You are just teasing me ‘cause you are jealous you were not the first one.” You say sticking your tongue to him as you sit on Simon’s lap like a kid hiding behind his parent.
Johnny looks at you offended while Simon laughs at him before adding. “She got you there, mate”
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“Good morning, lovie.” Price says smiling when you open the door for him in the morning, stepping aside to let him in. “Good morning, John. I’m still having breakfast, want to join me?” You ask smiling.
“I’ll join you to the end of the world, love. Breakfast is just a plus.” He says dropping a kiss to your forehead as he walks in. “I brought you this.” He adds, raising his hand and letting you see the bag he is holding.
“And what is that?” You ask taking the bag from his hand when he lends it to you. You leave it on the table as you fill a second cup with coffee for him, both of you sitting down before you take the bag again to check what's inside. “Oh! This is mine!” You say surprised.
Price smiles back at your surprised expression and says: “We went back to your apartment, picked up everything that we left the last time. It is mostly bathroom stuff, and some clothes we were able to find.” 
“Aw, John… Thank you, really.” You say looking through your stuff, until you come across an unfamiliar red colour. “John?”
“Yes, doll?”
“How many women being followed by terrorists do you know?
“Hm, a couple actually. You are the only one I'm hiding, though.”
“Johnathan!” You exclaim slapping his arms when he laughs. He grabs your hands, kissing your knuckles and keeps your hand on his.
“Keep saying my name and we will not be leaving the house today, love.” He says looking at your eyes with a smirk on his face.
“Another chance, John. How many?” You ask, raising a finger keeping the rest interlocked with his, raising an eyebrow. 
“Only you, love. I promise.” He says smiling softly, no teasing left in his voice. “I bought you that dress, for tonight, you silly girl. You could get me on my knees in your pyjama, but I assumed you would rather wear something fancier.”
“Oh.” You say a little bit embarrassed, but accepting the compliment. “Okay.” 
He chuckles softly at you, drinking his coffee and standing up, he cups your face with both his hands before kissing your lips harshly before pulling away. “I'll pick you up at seven, love. Be ready by then.” 
You nod quickly, he gives you one more kiss and he says goodbye before heading out to work.
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You basically start getting ready after lunch, you don't have much to do anyway. So you run yourself a bath, taking your time, not a rush in you. 
It makes you think about how your life was just a couple of days ago, you didn't even have a bathtub and now? Two baths in two days! 
The dress Price brought you fits you like a glove, and you make a mental note to ask about it. Almost your whole back is exposed, the dress almost reaching the floor with the heels on. You choose a red lipstick that luckily matches the red colour of the dress and decide to do your hair up so it doesn't cover your back. 
You look at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom, happy with the result. And if there was any bit of self-doubt left in you, it quickly dissipates the moment you walk into the living room where the other three men are currently at. Laughing when their mouth falls open like in the cartoons.
“Fuckin' hell, bonnie.” Johnny groans looking at you.
“Alright, is she ready?” Price asks entering the flat, a small bouquet of roses in his hand and a suit that could be tailored by how well it fits him. You walk up to him smiling, bending down a bit to smell the flower. “For me?” You ask softly.
He nods, unable to find words to answer and helps you take the bouquet taking care that you won't touch any thorn. Once on your hands, you walk to the kitchen to put them in water. Price looks at you up and down when he sees the dress flow with every movement of your hips. He definitely needs to send a good bottle of wine to Laswell for her help choosing the dress. 
“Ready?” You ask looking at him once you are back and you find him with his eyes still staring at where they were before you entered the kitchen. He quickly looks up at your face and smiles. “And waiting, love. Let's go.” He finally says, lending you his arm which you gladly grab. He turns back to the three massive scary military men in your living room who look like kids who have gotten their desert stolen. “Good night, boys. Be nice, we'll see you tomorrow.” You chuckle blowing them a kiss and getting out first, what you don't see behind your back is the way Price raises his hand with his middle finger out and a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Fuckin' bastard” Soap chuckles once the door closes.
Once on the street, you take a deep breath, savouring finally being out of the house. And Price must take notice because when both of you are sitting in the car (he opened the door for you, of course), he pulls your window down slightly letting the night air hit you. 
“I’m definitely making all of you take me out more often.” You say looking out the window.
“And we will do it gladly, love.” He says resting a hand on your thigh. “You just gotta ask.”
“I'll keep that in mind.” You say smiling resting your hand on top of his. 
The street air flows through the open window taking with it the last worries on your mind, it is easy being with him. With the four of them to be honest.
“Are you hungry, love?” He asks, moving his hand from your thigh to the gearstick to switch gears as he gets closer to the restaurant. 
“I'm starving, Captain.” You say smiling when he side eyes after you talk. Chuckling softly at the double meaning of your words. Once the car is parked, he exits the car to open your door, holding his hand out for you. 
The restaurant must be the fanciest you have ever set foot inside of, as soon as you enter a waiter comes to walk the both of you to your table. The other guests are calmly eating at their table, the decorations of the plans and folding screens making it feel like a separate room for each couple. 
Price pulls your chair back to allow you to sit and then push you closer to the table. A waiter comes after a while to take note, and not much later comes back with a bottle of wine. He pours the glasses and Price and you are left alone.
“Can I ask you something, John?” You ask, resting your hand on top of his, caressing it with your fingertips. He quickly nods, and you add: “How… how did the relationship between the four of you work?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “It's a bit blurry how it started to be completely honest… As a team we expend so much time together, we must trust each other with our lives, and sometimes these things just… happen?” He ask, just to check if you understand. He continues when you nod. “It was not the four of us at first, Soap and Simon were the closest and as far as I know, the ones who did it first. Then Gaz and I were sent on a mission together for a couple of months and it simply happened. Then Gaz and Soap talked about it, they got drunk and did it too. After that, we realised we were not hurting anybody so… we continued.”
“And now there is me…” You add, looking down at his hand. There is an underlying question, about how exactly do you fit in a relationship that seems to have been built around a web of trust and years of knowing each other. And now you appear, and in 48 hours, you are in the centre of it all. 
“And now there is you.” Price answers, interlacing his fingers with yours. “And we are really happy you are, you know that right?” He asks, and he squeezes your hand when you don't answer him. “Look at me, birdie.”
“I'm sorry.” You mutter looking up at him. “I'm sorry, I know we talked about it, but I can't help it, I'm sorry.”
“Hey, hey, hey, easy now, love. Don't apologise.” He says, extending his arm easily reaching the other side of the table to cup your face. “What is it, love?”
“It's just… you are like… bigger than the CIA.” You whisper, unsure of how much you can say. “And it's not only like, the name. The four of you are just… so big, and cool, and handsome, and nice, and kind, and strong, and you can fight, and people respect all of you… and me… I'm a fucking loser.” 
“Now, that's where I'm going to stop you. Because I'm not letting you shit talk about my girl, birdie.” He says, bopping your nose with his finger as he does. “You are not a loser. You are breathtaking, you have a job, you have a house, you have a car, you are smart, you are kind and for god's sake, birdie, you have an entire SAS task force begging you to even look at them. Take pride in that, love.”
“But that's not the same, Price. What if… what if my apartment didn't have the hiding spot on top of the closet?” You ask, and you can see his expression change, disliking to even think of the possibilities. “I would have been at their mercy so fucking easy, you remember how easy it was for Soap and Ghost to pick me up and handcuff me to Gaz. They'll raise their voice at me a bit too much and they'll have me at my knees begging for forgiveness because that's the only thing I know how to do. Fucking useless…”
“And if you knew how to fight back?” He asks, looking directly at your eyes. “Would it help you feel better?”
“I don't want to be even a bigger burden, Price.” You sigh, unconsciously pouting slightly.
“That's not what I asked, birdie. Would it help if you knew how to fight back? How to defend yourself?” He asks, and when you nod, he nods back, thinking to himself. “All right, luckily for you, I know just the Captain to teach you a couple of tricks.” He says, making you smile. At that moment, the food arrives at the table and when the waiter walks back, he says; “So eat up, we have things to do tonight, love.
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Dinner turns out to be delicious, nothing that you didn't expect. And after enjoying each other company through it, he pays for the food and walks along you back to the car.
You still don't know what's his plan, and he won't tell you any more information than what he has already. It's not until later, when he is already driving that you start to recognise the road and you ask: “Are we going to the base?”
He nods. “I'm gonna train you. Is as good as any time to start doing it, right?” He asks, smiling at you.
“Is it?” You ask, looking at the clothes the both of you are wearing. “Aren't we dressed a little bit too fancy?”
“Well, you never know when you are going to be attacked, it'll add to the realism.” He answers chuckling, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow before shaking your head and smiling as well. 
Once he parks in the base, he opens your door again and the both of you walk hand in hand to the shooting range. He turns on the lights to illuminate the empty room and walks to one of the cupboards on the side. He opens it, taking a gun, some bullets and a pair of glasses for eye protection from the inside. He puts the glasses on you, smiling for himself and hands you the gun.
You pick it up, a bit surprised by the weight and look up at him. “Straight to shooting? I was expecting maybe some sparring for my first class, John.” 
He chuckles nodding before saying: “I know, but it's really weird to find the shooting range empty. So let's take advantage of it, shall we? First lesson, how to reload the gun.”
He explains to you how to do it, stirring something in you as he uses a different from what you are used to. You assume that's how he talks to his soldier when instructing them, and even though a part of you is curious about what he must sound like when he is pissed at them, you follow the instructions earning yourself a “Good girl” that has you smiling and blushing like an idiot.
He steps behind you, separating your feet with his foot and telling you what's the best position. His chest is pressed to your back and his hands are around your hands. He points to a little relief on the end of the barrel and says: “This is the front sight, and this is the rear sight.” He says pointing to a second one on the back. “Align them, and then you'll know where you are aiming. Once you have done that, take the safety back and pull the trigger. Careful with the recoil, I'll help you with this one.”
You follow his instructions, grabbing the gun with steady hands so it doesn't fly away once you press the trigger and when you can see the target through the align sight, you shoot. Price's hands over yours keep the gun in place, and he looks up to the screen on top of you to see where the bullet hit and he whistles looking back at you. “You hit the target, birdie. Quite impressive, love.”
“Thank you, Sir.” You say and chuckle when he looks at you with a face. “What? You don't like it when I call you sir?”
“You have a gun on your hands, birdie. Behave.” He says sternly but still gently. “Shoot again.”
“Yes, Sir.” You say smiling and going back to aiming the gun. Just when you are about to shoot, Price presses his growing boner against your arse, completely distracting you and sending the bullet out or the target.
“Birdie! That was worse.” Price says behind you, with a fake worrying tone.
“What did you expect?” You exclaim, looking back at him offended.
“Now, now. It's part of the training, love. You need to work through the distractions.” He says chuckling.
“Yeah, I'm sure all of the boys went through it.” You reply.
“Gaz did.” He says simply. “And he didn't complain, so back to work.”
You groan, clearly knowing what he planning on doing and getting ready for the teasing he is about to put you through. You close one eye to be able to focus more clearly, and position the gun to shoot and again, just before you pull the trigger, he rubs against you making you miss the target. He laughs softly behind you and you groan pulling your head back “John!” you whine
“What is it, love?” He asks nonchalantly. “I am not going to learn like this.” You answer looking back at him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He says peppering your exposed shoulder with kisses. “You are right, I’m sorry, birdie, you just make me lose my mind so easily. Get back at it, I’ll try my best to not eat you up for now.”
You shake your head at his dramatism and raise the gun again. Once Price is back in Captain's mood it is fairly easy to get the hang of it, after a while letting you hold the gun on your own, the recoil shaking your whole body the first couple of shots. Not that Price shamelessly ogles your whole body when it jiggled because of the shoot. At the end, and actually fairly soon you get more and more clean shots, getting closer and closer to the bullseye earning yourself a pat on the back by Price. “You’re a natural, birdie. I’ll keep you in mind if we get an opening.” He jokes making you laugh.
“Sure, I’m sure I’ll be at you guys level in a week.” You joke back and then look at him. “You can go back now.”
“Sorry?” He asks raising an eyebrow.
“You know, back to that… distraction training thing.” You say, struggling to keep the eye contact and when he gets what you are talking about he laughs loudly before going back to hugging you from behind. “Does my sweet girl want a bit more extra training?” He says grinding against your arse, his boner more prominent now than on his last try. You nod breathless, unable to speak. “Words, birdie.”
“Yes, Sir”
A groan is everything you hear before he grabs your hips pushing you flush against him. He kisses your neck leaving a wet trail as he goes up to your ear. “Shoot the gun, birdie. Don’t miss.”
You try to focus as hard as you can with his warm mouth against the skin of your neck and his hard dick in between your ass cheeks; when you shoot it goes terribly out of the target and when he realizes a slap lands on your clothed cunt making you shake a whine escaping your mouth. “Again, birdie.”
As you adjust the gun, you feel his hand find its way under your dress beginning to rub your cunt over your underwear. When you are about to shoot, he presses his index finger against your clit making you miss again and another slap land on you, harder with the loss of the dress in the way. “You are getting these underwear ruined, birdie. Such a nasty girl. Try again, and I'll give you something.”
Once again, you raise the gun, closing your eyes for a second when he circles your clit with his fingertips. He gets his hand under your underwear, slipping his finger back and forth from your hole to your clit. You can feel your whole body shake, but somehow your hand remain steady and when you shoot this time you feel his finger enter your cunt forcing you to close your eyes. You leave the gun on the table, not trusting yourself with your eyes closes and whole body shaking again once Price begins to piston his finger in and out of your cunt making you moan his name. 
His other arm finds his way around your neck, pushing you up and keeping you in a headlock only able to moan his name and take his finger in your cunt. “Look at the screen, birdie.” He whispers in your ear, and when you look up you notice the bullet hit straight into the bullseye, a weak smile appearing on your face. 
“Such a good fucking girl, birdie. Shooting so good so soon.” He whispers against your skin as he enters a second finger into you making you whine at the stretch. “Now I need to give you something, right?” He asks and you quickly nod moaning. “How about I give you a good fuck, birdie? Hm? Almost my whole team has already got a taste of fucking your sweet little cunt, and here I am, waiting for you to let me get inside, love. You want that, birdie? Are you gonna let the Captain fuck you stupid, hm?”
You eagerly nod earning a chuckle from him, but his fingers don't stop fucking your cunt the ball of his hand hitting your clit with every thrust sending a shock up your spine. You can only whine and moan at his mercy as you feel your orgasm approach, for a second you fear he might leave you wanting but you quickly realize that he much rather have you crying from overstimulation. You come with a loud moan of his name as you whip your head back on his shoulder unable to stay still as he keeps going not slowing down making your juices lazily drip down his hand.
“Ask for it, birdie. Please, I want to hear you ask for it.” He says, moving the arm from your neck letting you hold yourself up holding onto the table, slowing his fingers but still slowly fucking you.
“Please… Fuck me, please, John.” You half moan, looking back at him from over your shoulder. Price groans letting his forehead rest on your back, laughing to himself. “Birdie, you are going to kill me one of these days.” He says before dropping a kiss to where your exposed back begins and dragging his tongue up to your nape making you whine and arc your back onto him. 
You hear the unmistakable sound of his belt getting undone, and you feel his fingers slip from your cunt only to appear right on your lips. “Taste yourself, birdie. Taste how fucking delicious you are.” You take his finger on your mouth, making him groan as you hear him fist himself; his tip grazing your wet cunt once he moves your underwear to the side. He pushes his finger down on your tongue, forcing you to open your mouth and a loud moan leaves your mouth as his dick enters your pussy stretching you out. 
And then, a series of praises and compliments begin to fall from Price’s mouth as he fucks you that takes your mind to a blissful state where the only thing you can do is moan and take in the love Price is pouring onto you. “My sweet fucking girl… taking my dick so fucking good, the best fucking pussy I have ever had, love. You just fucking ruined me for everyone else, gonna keep you with me forever, hm? You’ll like that, birdie? Keeping you with me forever, and with the boys. Oh, birdie, if you have heard them… fuck… fucking obsessed with you, birdie. Stay with us, birdie. We’ll be good, I promised. We’ll take care of you, of everything you want, everything you need.”
To hear the respectable Captain Price practically whine in your ear, begging you to stay with him has you weak on your knees and you fear you may collapse when the hand on your hips disappear for a moment. It quickly comes back, and the hand inside your mouth goes out grabbing your jaw instead and forcing you to look at the screen, and the sight makes your eyes widen. 
On the screen is the clear image of you getting your gut rearranged by the 141 Captain, being livestream by the security camera of the shooting range. Price goes back to whispering filth in your ear when he feels you clench. “Look how good you fucking look, birdie. Going to fucking steal the footage, watch it every night. How about we let the boys see it, hm? How good you take my cock on this tight fucking pussy, hm? Like a fucking champ.”
You whine clenching again earning a groan from him, unable to peel your eyes away both by his hand and by the hypnotic image on the screen. The mental image of Price or any of the boys pleasuring themselves with the ongoing images has you getting closer and closer to the edge, and Price must be able to tell because he gets a hand down to your clit rubbing quick circles in it making you cum with a loud moan as you clench on him like a vice. He groans behind you, your hands find their way back to the edge of the table when he takes back the hand from your jaw, just to slap your ass making you whine and grabs your hips fucking you hard, the sound of his hips hitting the meat of your ass filling the room. You wouldn't be surprised if you woke up to bruises on your body, Price chasing his own release like a madman moaning your name when he finally reaches it releasing his hot cum inside of you. 
Still buried inside of you, he hugs you from behind his forehead resting on your shoulder, groaning when he feels you clench around him from the aftershock of your orgasm. He raises, grabbing your leg in the process and raising it, leaving you spread-legged directly to the camera. “Show the boys, doll. Did I fuck you nice, birdie?” He asks, and when you nod without talking he gives you a quick thrust with his softening dick making you moan of overstimulation. “Words, birdie.”
“Yes, Sir.” You moan softly, and whine when Price bends down biting the joint of your shoulder and neck hard, possessiveness taking over him and urging him to leave a mark on you as if his cum leaking from your cunt around his dick wasn't enough. “Good fucking girl, birdie. So fucking good.” He says licking the mark of his teeth he just left. He leaves your leg down, dropping kisses around your shoulder before asking: “Can you hold still for a minute, birdie? I’m gonna be back in just a minute, I promise.” You nod, leaning more of your weight onto the table making him chuckle and you hear him walk away. 
Being true to his word, he comes back just a minute later, a pen drive in his hand and two hours' worth of footage deleted from the security system. He lifts you bridal style and he starts to walk to his room, turning the lights off on his way out. 
Once inside his room, he takes your clothes off as well as his own and gets in the shower with him. A warm innocent shower, just him washing the sweat and saliva of your body. Once the both of you are cleaned, he covers you with a towel sitting you on the toilet and uses a wet towel to clean the make-up off your face. The both of you brush your teeth in comfortable silence and then he dries you up. Neither of you bothers to put on any clothes before getting under the cover, the heat of each other body keeping you warm.
Price cups your face, finally kissing you for the first time in the whole night, sealing the deal of all the promises and feelings he professed for you. He lets you readjust your position against him before hugging you and whispers before falling asleep. “Sleep nice, birdie.”
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Hii 💗
Hope you liked the first date with the boys, Price won the poll like, with a huge difference 🤣 so I hope I met the expectations.
I already have most of the other dates planned, but let me know if you would like for something to happen hehe.
Thank you so much for the support, make sure to leave a comment if you liked it so I can see, really I love to read the comments so don't be worried about writing.
If you want to be added to the permanent link it is on my masterlist, and I love you guys ❤️❤️❤️
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