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ja3yun · 2 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.4

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), protected and unprotected sex, cum eating, oral (f rec.), handjob, mentions of alchohol, not many tbh, anything i've missed lmk! ch.4 synopsis: waking up in sunghoon's bed was the last thing you intended to happen. as you confront him about your brothers wishes, he comes up with a solution for the time being but on the night of your award acceptance, he can't hold back any longer. wc: 17.3k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! this is by far my favourite chapter in the whole series. it's just a nice, cute chapter with lots of smut and fluff. it's also the chapter ynhoon stans (me) have been waiting for. i said this on my page but this is the last chapter of pure happiness and after this its chaos and plot so, enjoy!

“Shit, Hoonie, right there, oh my god,’ you whimper out as Sunghoon pounds into your pussy from behind with relentless force, your face buried into his pillow muffles your cries as you approach your 3rd climax of the evening.

You and Sunghoon have been fucking like rabbits for the better part of a month and a bit. Sometimes it's a quickie in his car, other times it's these long, drawn-out sessions like the one we're having now. Since you both agreed to hook up, he's been all over you, like he can't get enough. And honestly, you're just as keen.

Over the weeks, that guilty feeling that was eating away at you has been slowly fading away. At first, it was tough, especially with the whole situation with Minhee, but Sunghoon always found a way to distract you, his touch erasing any nagging thoughts. As you started putting yourself first and just embracing the journey with Sunghoon, you began to feel more liberated.

There's something about Sunghoon that makes you feel completely at ease, like you can just be yourself without any pretence. If you're having a rough day, he's there to lend an ear and let you vent. And when something good happens, he's the first person you want to share it with.

To maintain the integrity of your friends-with-benefits arrangement, you both established a set of rules. However, those rules have been tossed out the window countless times. Take rule number 3, for example: 'No dates or gifts, no matter how big or small.' Sunghoon seems to break it regularly, sneaking little gifts into your bag or whisking you off to the University Cafe for some ‘fuel’ but ends up footing the bill every time, and now he even knows your order by heart.

Rule number 5: ‘No PDA’ was a goner within the first week. Holding his hand whenever you walked him to his car became a habit, in fact, any chance you got, your hands were intertwined. Even at the rink, where you really had to keep it on the down low, you couldn't resist a quick hand squeeze as you passed by him. Of course, that inevitably led to breaking rule number 6: no sex at the rink. Sunghoon might have fucked you in every corner of Belmore by now, including the coaches' office.

As his hands stroke up your back, he moves to pull your hair, eager to elicit every possible sound from you as he takes you to the peak of pleasure, "You're taking me so well," he murmurs, watching as he disappears into you with each rapid thrust, the action almost appearing in slow motion with how fast he’s going, "Can you feel it? Come on, Sweets, tell me what you feel."

"I feel so damn good, Hoonie," you gasp, your hair acting as his anchor as he leans back, driving himself deep into you. "You're hitting me so deep, oh my god."

One of his hands snakes under you to reach your belly and as he presses down you let out your loudest moan of the night. He can feel his cock in your stomach if he puts enough pressure, which drives you both crazy. The feeling of him deep inside you causes his eyes to roll back, wondering whether he can go deeper. Sunghoon lets go of your hair and grabs you by the stomach; the new position allows his shaft to pierce you in places that nobody else has before.

“Shit, I'm gonna cum," You've grown better at not asking if you can cum and have recently started telling him you are. This did not happen overnight, but rather because Sunghoon would stop fucking you if you asked to cum. He wanted you to be able to indulge yourself whenever and however you pleased, without being confined. When he would abruptly stop, it was almost on the point of edging, which you wanted to prevent at all costs, so you began telling him when you were going to climax.

"Such a good girl, Y/N." "Such a good girl, Y/N," he praises, another perk of not asking for permission. Sunghoon always showers you with affectionate words, both inside and outside the bedroom, causing a flutter in your chest every time. It makes your tummy flutter every time; he was so good at it, and it makes you feel seen and valued. There is a nagging feeling inside you that you should tell him to stop because of the things his words do to your heart, but you enjoy it too much, so you keep it off the rules.

He keeps his pace while leaning down to your ear, his chest and torso are sticking to your back with the collective sweat pouring from both of you. His tongue licks the shell of your ear as you clench around him, “Come on, Y/N, cum for me.”

Sunghoon loves to have you come undone before he does, the way your walls closed in on his dick was what sent him spiralling, so as he feels you coat him with your delicious cum, he follows you quickly, shooting ropes into the condom.

Despite his orgasm, he doesn’t stop slamming into you, his shaft throbbing against your g-spot with every stroke, "Hoonie, Hoonie, please," you whimper, completely overwhelmed as stars dance behind your eyelids and your mouth hangs open, a hint of drool threatening.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sweets, can’t stop fucking you like this.” The last time this happened, Sunghoon fucked you for a good 4 hours nonstop, and as you approach your third hour right now, you wonder if you can go any longer and break your previous record, “You want that? For me to fuck you all night?”

If you had a praise kink, Sunghoon definitely had an ego kink—if such a thing existed. He thrived on hearing how he was the best you've ever had, how massive his cock was, or even just being called pretty. Falling for his bait every time was easy because, let's face it, every compliment you gave him was entirely true. "Uh-huh, can't get enough of your big cock."

"Fuck, of course you can't, Sweets. Look at how perfectly it fits in that pretty pussy of yours," he growls, the last spurts of his release filling the condom as he peppers your back with tender, open-mouthed kisses.

As your climax ebbs away, you collapse on the bed, utterly spent. He sees your exhaustion and despite his readiness to continue, he decides to call it a night.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, his condom-clad shaft is glistening with your essence and your pussy matches, looking delectable. To clean you, he brings his mouth to your hole and licks you clean, sure not to waste a single drop. Normally, he would either get a damp towel, or carry you into the shower to rinse you off, but he doesn’t want to wash away his favourite meal, that would be a waste.

"Sunghoon, fuck," you moan as his tongue delves into you, sending shivers down your spine. You sink deeper into his bed, your toes curling involuntarily. If he doesn't stop soon, another climax is imminent, setting off a delightful yet relentless cycle of pleasure where you cum on his face, and he eagerly laps it up all night.

But your sensitive pussy protests, especially after already being pleasured twice today. With a tally of eight orgasms already, your body begs for a respite.

"Just a minute, Sweets. Almost done," he mutters, though he's far from wanting to be finished. Sensing your sensitivity, he refrains from pushing you over the edge, giving two more gentle swipes of his tongue before reluctantly pulling away. Planting kisses along your ass cheeks and spine, he can't help but praise your perfection, "So damn perfect like this, baby."

"Sunghoon, no pet names," you mumble, reminding him of rule 2: no endearments like baby, princess, or angel, all of which have slipped out of his mouth one of two times. He fought to keep calling you Sweets since he has done so from the beginning. He hasn’t ever told you why he calls you Sweets but he’s attached to it, so you let him have it.

“Sorry,” he says quietly but he isn’t sorry. You know this because he’s smiling like an idiot while he scatters little kisses over your shoulder blades.

Finding energy from somewhere, you turn around as he comes off you to clean himself. You’ll never get over how ethereal he is, his body is perfectly proportioned, and his waist does make you jealous though. Why do some men have slutty little waists and you don’t?

You reach down beside his bed and pick up the clothes you wore today, although, you’ve spent more time naked than in them, “I better get going.”

He slips into a random pair of boxers before walking over to you, reaching for the bra you’ve been trying to grab, “You know you don’t have to rush away, we could get some food or watch a movie? The new Hunger Games is on Prime, we could rent it?” Sunghoon was trying to find any reason for you to stay.

Taking your bra from his outstretched fingers, you add it to the pile beside you, still seated there naked. "We can't, Hoonie, you know this," you reply softly. It's a rare occasion for you to linger long after sex, fearing that staying will only unearth the emotions you've been desperately trying to suppress.

Rule number 1: Keep your feelings in check. You couldn’t make the rule ‘don’t develop feelings’ because both of you knew that ship had sailed long ago. You were already attached to one another from the first time you kissed. It was more realistic to tell yourselves to bury your emotions for one another. As time goes on, it’s getting harder and harder, which is why you don’t stay. When it was the first week, sometimes you would stay over if it was late but waking up in Sunghoon's embrace only intensified your feelings for him.

Sunghoon bites his lips thin and nods, placing both his hands on his waist, “I know, but I miss spending time with you.”

“Hoonie, we see one another every day, I see you more than I see my family now,” you say softly.

It’s true, you’ve spent so much time in Sunghoon’s presence that you rarely make it home at a reasonable hour these days. You do feel guilty about missing Minhee’s practices, but you’re scared if you see him for too long you might get that gut-wrenching guilt bubble back into your heart, and everything is so good right now, that you didn’t want to be the cause of its downfall.

"But when was the last time we did something together?" he asks with a pout, sitting down beside you.

"We went out for dinner three nights ago," you bat back.

Sunghoon knows he's being a bit unreasonable, you guys have been hanging out, just not in the way he wants. He longs for those moments when you're cuddled up watching a movie or when he's playing with your hair while you scroll through TikTok, showing him videos the most unfunny videos. He just wants to do nothing with you.

His dejected expression breaks your heart. You can tell he's getting overly invested in this. Sometimes he’ll look at you like you’re the only girl in the world and that’s dangerous.

Truthfully, you feel the same way about him, sometimes he is the only person on the planet that matters to you - aside from Minhee, of course. You wouldn't have a problem dating your brother's fiercest rival if you didn't hold Minhee in such high regard, but sadly, you loved Minhee too much to hurt him.

There was something that you have been meaning to ask Sunghoon but you’re scared it’ll blur the lines of your relationship with him.

Your eyes meet his and you decide to take the leap, “Hey, there was something I wanted to ask you,” Sunghoon takes your hands in his, waiting for you to continue, “You can say no, obviously!” you add quickly, already giving him a way out even though he doesn’t have the slightest clue what you’re on about.

“Ask me and I’ll decide if I want to say no,” The older boy’s smile is slight, encouraging you to ask him your evidently big question.

“Um, do you remember when I was upset and you saw me at the rink?” you ask.

How could he forget, it was the first night he got to taste your lips. Sunghoon nods and you carry on, "And you know how I'm a top student at my university?" Another nod follows as his thumbs gently caress the back of your hands. "Well, I won an award, I think I told you that. Anyway, there's a ceremony happening on the 23rd of September, and I was wondering if maybe you would come with me? I have to RSVP by Monday."

You rush through the words, avoiding eye contact with Sunghoon. Truth be told, you had initially asked Rina to accompany you, but she has an early exam the next day—her last chance after failing it twice. Obviously, Minhee has a schedule so he and your mum are out of the picture, the only other person you want there with you is Sunghoon.

Taking a moment to process your request, Sunghoon mentally sifts through his schedule, realizing he likely has prior engagements but decides he's going to cancel them. He wouldn't miss the opportunity to be by your side as you accept such a prestigious award. "I would love to come, Y/N," he replies with genuine enthusiasm.

Your head shoots up, eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, really? Don't you want to check if you can make it and get back to me?" you ask, taken aback by his immediate acceptance. He doesn't even glance at his phone or consult a calendar. "You really don't have to come, I know Nationals are like 2 months away."

"Y/N," he soothes, running his fingers through your hair in a comforting gesture, "I will be there."

No one has ever simply said yes to you so readily. You're accustomed to being sidelined as people search for excuses not to commit. You have to admit, Minhee always tried his best to make it to your events, despite your mom often intervening. Sometimes you wonder if she deliberately scheduled things to prevent him from attending.

"It's at 7 pm, is that okay?" you ask sheepishly.

"Of course it is, Sweets," he assures you, planting a gentle kiss on your lips before whispering, "Thank you for letting me be a part of your life like this."

Sunghoon's heart races alongside yours, warmth spreading through his body. He didn't mean to voice his gratitude aloud, but he's overwhelmed by the fact that you're willing to share this part of yourself with him. It’s risky in the whole boundary department, but he’ll figure it out.

Your heart would be burrowing out of your chest and drowning him in kisses if it had legs. It's unfortunate that you can't truly claim Sunghoon as yours because he was everything you could have ever wanted. This stupid fucking rivalry. If you could go back in time to prevent them from competing against one another, you would.

He notices that your mind is racing when he looks at you, so he does what he always does when you're acting that way: he kisses you with so much intensity that it leaves you thinking only of his lips.

It works every single time.

"Hoonie," you mumble his name into his mouth, feeling the effect it has on him, "Thank you so so much. I owe you."

A mischievous smirk spreads across his lips. "You can suck my cock in the car on the drive back to yours?" he teases, earning a playful swat on the arm from you, "Okay, okay! What's the dress code for your big day?"

"It's a black tie event," you reply, focusing on putting on your clothes, "It's fancy."

Humming in acknowledgement, Sunghoon begins pondering his wardrobe options, "What are you wearing, Sweets?" he asks, hoping to coordinate outfits.

"I haven't decided yet. I need to go into the city and buy something nice," you admit. You don't have any fancy clothes, certainly nothing suitable for an award ceremony, so you've been saving up for a nice gown. The only problem is, you have no idea what to wear or what you could possibly get with your measly savings.

"Shopping? I'll come with you," Sunghoon offers.

You give him a doubtful glance. "Why?" After all, he has plenty of expensive designer suits in his closet; he doesn't need to go shopping with you.

"For the company, duh," he replies, pulling you into an embrace. Sunghoon often cuddles you like this, his long arms enveloping your head as he plays with your hair. It's both comforting and frustrating, making it hard for you to resist him. "Plus, I can help you pick something out and see you in pretty dresses all day. I don't see any cons here."

You consider his offer. Rina, your usual shopping partner, is often too busy with her own try-ons to provide much help, making her a less-than-ideal companion. Maybe having Sunghoon along wouldn't be such a bad idea after all, it would be nice to get some advice.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you mould yourself against him, "Okay, you can come. I was planning to go on Wednesday," you agree, enjoying the warmth of his touch as you nuzzle your nose against his bare chest.

"I'll pick you up from uni," he suggests with a smile.

Sunghoon has memorised your complete schedule so he could quickly figure out when he could see you, and more significantly, what parts of his own schedule he could change to accommodate yours. You took classes all summer, which was unusual, but apparently, it counted toward your final degree. With events and marketing being such a saturated field, you must stand out. Sunghoon begins to truly understand why you're receiving this award the more he learns about you.

“Are you sure? Yonsei is aeons away, and don't you have a photoshoot for Prada's winter collection in the morning?" you ask, reminding him of his commitments.

It's easy to forget that Sunghoon is a famous ice skater, probably because he's always 7 inches deep inside you and when he isn't, he's the most regular 20-year-old you know.

“It’s all good, with a face like mine, the photoshoot will be done in an hour,” his lips press themselves against yours as he lays tiny smooches on the same spot, his smile growing bigger and bigger as he does so.

Feeling his hands slide under your top and nails scraping your back lightly, you know what he’s going to ask you, so you jump the gun, “I can’t stay, Hoonie. I need to get going.”

"Don't. There's nothing for you out there, and it's cold," he pleads, pouting like a kid.

"It's 23 degrees," you laugh at his feeble excuses. "I'll see you tomorrow like always."

Sunghoon mumbles something in protest, but you know it's probably his way of expressing his reluctance to spend a day apart from you. You and Sunghoon are practically inseparable, constantly calling or texting when you're not together.

He lets you step back and goes to get changed so he can drive you home.

Both of you learned your lesson from the last time Minhee caught you getting out of his enemy's car, so now Sunghoon drops you off at the end of the street to maintain appearances and keep him out of sight.

As he fixes his shoes and grabs his car keys and a hoodie, he turns to you with a mischievous grin. "So about that blow job in the car I was talking about earlier…"

He's an animal

But you’re the one tying up your hair and loosening your jaw as you push him out the door.

__________

Wednesday comes faster than you think and you’ve just received a text from Mr. Ice Prince himself

No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:

1:43pm: I’m waiting at Centennial Hall

1:43pm: 🤍 x

You and Rina are walking together after leaving your joint B2B marketing lesson. Despite being in different majors—she studies fashion and business—Rina failed this class last semester and needs to make it up. You joked that she flunked on purpose so she could retake the class with you, but when you laughed, she got serious. In reality, she did fail on purpose, but not for the flattering reason you joked about; rather, to copy your answers and coax you into study sessions that often devolved into gossip about other students on campus. Despite the ulterior motive, you enjoy your time together, so you don’t mind at all.

She’s in the middle of talking when she pauses, looking down at your phone in disgust, “You’re texting him again? I don’t even text Allen this much.” That’s a brazen lie, she’s just more sneaky about it.

“He’s picking me up,” you reply back to Sunghoon’s text with a simple ‘Okay <3’ and put your phone in your back pocket, “We’re going into the city.”

"What for?" Her eyes are fixed on yours as if she's trying to read your mind. You haven’t led an interesting life, most of it studying and being Minhee’s cheerleader, so now that you have Sunghoon as your fuck buddy, Rina laps up every little detail. You leave the sex details to a minimum because, at the end of the day, that’s no one’s business but yours and Sunghoon’s, but you tell her enough to keep her entertained.

Looking at Rina, you realise you can't tell her he's accompanying you on a shopping trip because it would hurt her the most. Fashion is her entire existence, it is who she is, so if your best friend discovered you enlisted someone else to help you locate a gown, she would be devastated.

“Just lunch,” you lie, which you’re getting better at. Not the best trait to have but it’s been helping you out the past 5 weeks.

“Isn’t that against your rules?” She questions, eyebrows raised.

You frantically try to think, “Uhm, yeah I suppose, but he was insistent.” You forgot you told her the list of boundaries and rules that are keeping this ‘friends with benefits’ deal exactly that, so she pulls you up every chance she gets.

“He’s so annoying. I still can’t believe he had the audacity to speak to me like that at Yeonjun’s party, and in front of all those people!” Her arms flail in frustration, “Like he hasn’t even apologised either. He’s a colossal cunt, I hope he knows how lucky he is he has you to protect him because I would destroy him if I had a chance.”

Rina really couldn’t let it go. You’ve pleaded with Sunghoon to text her and say sorry to her and Allen but he doesn’t think he should apologise for being honest.

Ahead of you, you observe Sunghoon standing by his car, as gorgeous as ever. He had just returned from a photoshoot, so his hair and makeup have been done and his clothes are flashy yet simple. He’s wearing a brown suede jacket over his white Prada-encrusted t-shirt, and the black dress trousers highlight his snatched waist. He's a vision, and you find yourself admiring him as always. Truth be told, you like him in anything - or even nothing at all - because Sunghoon is so effortlessly beautiful, he can pull off anything.

Waving, you gain his attention and he smiles at you, his eyes turning into crescent moons. Rina looks between you both with a bewildered look on her face, “Oh. My. God. You like him. Like, really like him.” Was it that obvious? “And he likes you!” Apparently so.

You shush Rina, urging her to keep it down. "It's not like that, we're just messing around. You know this, Rina," you insist, hoping to deflect any further probing into your relationship with Sunghoon.

Before she can say anything else or coax you into admitting something you're not ready to, you reach Sunghoon, who instinctively pulls you into a hug and plants a kiss on your forehead. "Hey, Sweets," he greets you warmly.

Your best friend scowls at him, scrutinizing the situation before her. Rina is a smart girl; she calls a spade a spade, and in her eyes, there's no way you both don't have feelings for each other. She understands why you won't just admit it and date officially, but in her mind, you're already together, just not acknowledging it to assuage your guilty conscience.

Sunghoon smiles down at you as you cling to him, but Rina's presence brings him back to reality. "Bring her back to mine once you're done with your lunch," she instructs, her demeanour guarded. Her words prompt Sunghoon to acknowledge her, though he can sense her disdain.

He knows she hates him, quite honestly the feeling is semi-mutual - he isn’t the biggest fan of hers, but she treats you well, that’s all that matters. He does, however, plan on winning her over because he senses how uncomfortable you get when they have to be in the same room together, “I will. I brought you something from my shoot this morning,” he says, attempting to extend an olive branch.

Drawing back, you stare at Sunghoon in confusion, but he shakes his head and heads to the trunk of his car. Rina's interest is piqued; she heard from you that he was working with Prada, and her fashionista instincts can't help but be a little excited. Regardless of whether it's from Sunghoon or not, she loves presents.

There are three Prada-branded boxes laid out in front of him, all of which are for Rina. Was it a bribe to get her to back off and potentially win her approval? Maybe, but judging by the look on her face, his plan might just work. "These are all from the Winter 24' season. I guessed you were a sample size," he says, aiming to flatter her.

Rina squeals with delight and grabs the boxes eagerly, tearing them open as fast as she can, just in case it's some kind of prank. Inside, she finds a sheer grey blouse with a red and brown collar accent, a long pleated white skirt, and a matching handbag. Sunghoon even went the extra mile to include the new Paradoxe Intense perfume, just to sweeten the deal.

She holds the clothing up to her body, exclaiming, "I am going to look so good in these! Thanks, Hoon!" Sunghoon can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the use of the nickname.

Glancing over at you, he sees your knowing expression. You understand exactly what he's up to, and while you may not agree with his methods, you appreciate the sentiment. He's trying to make amends, and that's more than most men would do.

Hugging Sunghoon tightly, Rina sways him from side to side, a stark contrast to her demeanour just moments ago. Sunghoon laughs and pats her head, promising to keep her in mind for any future shoots.

"Do you happen to be modelling for Gucci anytime soon?" she asks cheekily, causing you to shoot her a disapproving look, "What? I want the new purse they're bringing out," she shrugs, picking up her presents and sauntering away from the car, "Thanks again. I'll leave my favourite lovebirds to it."

It's astounding how easily swayed she is by a few items of fabric, a fact you make a mental note of for future reference. Once she's happily on her way, you and Sunghoon are left in silence.

Sunghoon shuts the trunk of his car before lifting you up in a sudden move, "Hoonie!" you squeal, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. Despite the suddenness, you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him as he kisses you passionately. He sets you down on the back of his car and cradles your head, deepening the kiss. His lips feel softer than usual, gliding over yours like butter, possibly due to the lip oil he applied earlier in the day

His tongue playfully teases your lips, poking out ever so slightly to give you a taste, but when you chase it with your own, he retracts. You let out a whine of annoyance and lust, a sound Sunghoon is all too familiar with. He loves it; how you draw it out depends on how much you crave him. It makes him feel some sort of way that he can’t quite put into words.

You take hold of his jacket and bring him forward, taking control of the situation. The world seems to vanish around you with every caress, to the point where you miss the stares of passers-by and their disapproving glances as you and Sunghoon practically devour each other's faces. You can taste the warmth and passion between you every time your tongues touch. He's intoxicating.

But you really need to get a dress, and if you get too caught up in him right now, you'll never make it to the city. Instead, you'll end up with your legs spread in the backseat of his car.

"Hoonie, we better stop," you say, trying to sound serious, but your breathless whisper betrays your true feelings.

"Why?" He asks as he nips at your neck, too preoccupied with kissing you to remember the objective of today's outing, or even that he's on your campus practically dry-humping you out in the open.

"You know why," you whisper into his ear, trying to regain some composure.

His head falls in defeat on your shoulder, and he nuzzles into you, tickling the base of your neck. A smile spreads across his face, "I missed you, that's all," he admits, his voice filled with sincerity.

Rolling your eyes, you lift his head with your hand. "I saw you just two days ago."

"But I always miss you, doesn't matter if it's two days or two minutes," he says innocently, knowing exactly the effect those words will have on you. And it works; your heart swells with happiness, making you momentarily forget your resolve.

Pushing him away gently, you jump off the back of his car, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. Sunghoon simply shakes his head and gets into the seat beside you. Turning on the radio, he switches it back to your favourite station and buckles up. "Where to first?"

"There's a dress I saw online that's in Reeta's. They have one in my size just as you get into the city centre," you reply, going to put the address into his car’s navigation system. As you do, you notice that your home address is his favourite route, followed by your work address and then your college.

Sunghoon notices your pause and furrows his brows, "Do you know the address? I can google it if you want," he offers, glancing at his navigation system and realising what has caught your attention. He knows his way to all those locations by now, but seeing them saved under 'Y/N’s House', 'Y/N’s Work', and 'Y/N’s Uni' brings him a sense of comfort and belonging. To him, it's like having pieces of you scattered over every part of his life, even while driving. He never planned for you to see it, but now that you have, he hopes it's not a big deal to you.

You quickly type in Reeta’s postcode and hit okay, “It says it’s 25 minutes if we take the motorway,” you inform him.

He salutes playfully and drives off to your first destination, a smile playing on his lips.

___

4 shops, and 3 boutiques later, you’ve lost all hope. Not one of the dresses gave you the ‘wow’ factor you needed. It’s not often you go to events like this so you need your outfit to be spectacular.

Right now, you're in a random shop you spotted on the high street. It's not exactly the most inviting place – dark and kind of dreary, with clothes that look like they belong in a period drama rather than on a modern-day street.

Sunghoon is also browsing the dresses. Bless him, he's been dragged around every shop, and while you're about to have a mental breakdown, he's always the optimist, finding dresses that meet the criteria you gave him. You're looking for an emerald green or navy blue dress that reaches your knees, preferably longer. It also needs to have a spaghetti strap or be off the shoulders. You knew what suited you, plus, those were the sort of dresses you imagined yourself wearing as soon as you received the letter about the ceremony.

He finds a ribbed green dress with gold accents, “What about this? It’s kind of emerald, and it would sit comfortably.”

It’s the most hideous gown you’ve seen today, but his little smiley face stops you from being so brutally honest, “It’s not really my style.”

Putting it back, he walks to where you are looking and sighs in your ear, hugging you from behind. He can see you losing patience and will to find a dress and if you’re anything like his girl friends, specifically Wonyoung, you would start ranting about how you aren’t going any second now, "We've still got the Square to check out," he says, trying to lift your spirits. "Maybe we'll get lucky there."

You widen your eyes, “Hoonie, that’s Designer Square. There is no way they’ll have anything within my budget, not even on the sale rack.” the Square was your town’s equivalent to Rodeo Drive, each street was lined with branded stores like Armani, Gucci, Burberry, basically every shop out of your league. You don’t even recall a time you dared to walk near it.

"Worth having a look, right?" Sunghoon's optimism is charming, but you can't help but feel a pang of doubt. With the amount of money you have, you're not even sure you could afford a keychain from one of these stores. Despite saving up a bit from your extra shifts, your bank account is far from flush. £200 might buy you a small accessory or a one-way ticket home on the bus if you're lucky.

Sunghoon doesn’t give you time to argue, his hands on your shoulders pushing you out the door and into the car.

As he drove up to the high-end part of the city, you were in awe, even the street lamps looked prettier here. The people gracing the streets are all dripping in designer clothes, making you feel a bit out of place. It was okay for Sunghoon, he was still wearing his exclusive Prada outfit that would be the envy of everyone here, whether as you are clad in an a-line denim skirt with a purple cardigan you’re pretty sure you got from ASOS. It’s a whole different world here.

He pulls up at the end of the street, parking his Puegoet next to an array of Land Rovers and BMWs. This was definitely not a place made for you, but it seemed to fit Sunghoon perfectly - the clean-cut aesthetic, the expensiveness, it was all him.

“Do you come here a lot?” You only ask because he seems to be guiding you to a specific shop as if he visits frequently.

He intertwines his fingers with yours and swings it idly, "No, not really, but sometimes I get invited to galas and sponsor events. There's a store up to the right that sells dress trousers that actually fit."

You hum in acknowledgement, wondering if Minhee ever gets invited to such events. He's just as talented as Sunghoon when it comes to skating, yet he doesn’t seem to live as lavishly. Granted, Sunghoon has won nationals and even went to the Youth Olympics, while Minhee didn’t. Maybe that has something to do with it.

"Is that where you’re taking me now? To your suit guy?" you ask.

Sunghoon squeezes your hand and stops, "No, we’re going here," he points to the store beside you, and you gasp.

"No way, Sunghoon. I can’t even afford to even breathe in a Versace store." But it’s too late; he's already walking in, ignoring your protests. He holds the door open, gesturing for you to come in. Despite your reluctance, he waits patiently, still smiling. The people in the store stare, wondering why he’s just standing there looking at you. With a groan and a stomp of your feet, you cave and walk inside.

The store is bright and vibrant. Glass panels showcase handbags and other accessories on the right, while an extensive row of shoes lines the left. The shopkeepers and other customers all look straight out of an upper-class drama. Actually, now that you think about it, you feel a little like you’re in a K-drama, with the big CEO as the male lead and you as the poor girl whose family owns a chicken restaurant.

With his arm on your back, Sunghoon guides you past the onlookers and to the dresses. "Look through these, and I’ll be right back," he says.

"But Hoonie, I can’t afford these," you whisper embarrassed as you twist the £2,000 tag from a random dress and shove it in his face to emphasize your point.

"Appease me, yeah?" He pinches your cheek before he walks away, leaving you to scour for a gown.

Each one of them is beautiful and elegant, the detailing and colours blowing your mind. You could never find anything as stunning in your local boutiques. There's one in particular that catches your eye, a sleek ivory dress with gold chains cascading down the sides. It’s not what you would normally wear, but it is stunning.

As you continue to look through, you find yourself unable to choose. Not because they're not right, but because they're all too nice now, and about £1,000 over your budget. In defeat, you go to find Sunghoon when you suddenly see the most beautiful dress you have ever laid your eyes on. It’s nothing like what you imagined, everything about it is the opposite of what you wanted, but it is flawlessly ethereal in every way. It’s a black halter neck dress with an open back, lace detailing throughout, and frills that are the main attraction. If you could fall in love and marry a piece of clothing, it might just be with this. It’s classy, elegant, and perfect for the ceremony.

There's just one tiny problem. It's £1,800.

You’re scared to touch it, but you have to, you need to know what something this pretty feels like. Tentatively, you pinch the top frill and feel it between your fingertips. That was your first mistake because now no other dress is going to compare.

“You like that one?” you were so busy admiring the dress that you failed to notice Sunghoon coming up beside you. Nodding, you don’t take your eyes off the garment, too in love with it. “Try it on then.”

“I can’t. It’s too expensive,” you say wistfully, your heart sinking.

Sunghoon leans in, his voice barely a whisper next to your ear. “Exactly. When else will you have a chance to rock something like this? Let yourself indulge a little, Sweets.”

He’s right, you won’t get an opportunity like this again, and what harm has a little delusion ever brought anyone? You smile brightly and nod, “Okay, yeah, maybe just for a minute.” Sunghoon smiles at your response and looks at one of the workers, pointing with his eyes to get you it in your size.

In a flash, the shop assistants have you in the changing room, which resembles a whole wedding boutique. The gold and white decor only elevates the classiness of the place. How could this be a dressing room? The assistant ushers you into one of the stalls which is bigger than your bedroom. Sunghoon waits outside for you to change, taking a seat on the plump suite.

As you shed your clothes and slip into the dress, you're struck by its perfect fit. The delicate zip glides effortlessly, cinching your waist and accentuating your curves. As you pull up the top half of the dress and tie the bow at the back, although it proves a task because you can’t see it properly, you take one final look at yourself. You haven't felt this stunning in a long time; it's almost overwhelming.

Stepping out, everyone else is gone but Sunghoon who is scrolling on his phone. You straighten yourself and clear your throat to gather his attention.

“Holy fucking shit,” he whispers, eyes widening in disbelief.

His reaction is exactly what you hoped for. Sunghoon rises from the sofa, taking measured steps towards you, arms outstretched in front of him to take your hands, which you happily oblige, “You’re a dream. You have to be,” he isn’t speaking to you but projecting his inner monologue subconsciously.

As he takes in every detail, he smiles tenderly, almost reverently. It's as if the dress has unveiled a new layer of your beauty, leaving him spellbound. Emotion wells up in his chest, and he is completely in awe of you.

Your face glows with happiness. "It's nice, right?"

"Baby, you're otherworldly." Sunghoon threads his fingers with yours and opens your arms so he can get a proper look at you. At that moment, he sees you poised with a grace that can only be described as radiant, bewitching, whatever other word comes under 'transcendental' in the thesaurus. "I mean, look at you." Of all the routines he's done, no matter how challenging, he thinks this is the moment he becomes the most out of breath he has ever been.

You note the affectionate name he's uttered and should scold him, but who cares right now? "Yeah? Really?"

"What? You don't think so?" He asks, bewildered at the thought that you don't think you look like the most ethereal creature to walk this earth. Swiftly, he turns you to face the mirror in the middle of the waiting area. "Look at yourself, Sweets. You're a fucking vision."

Though you do feel beautiful, the longer you gaze at yourself, the more you wrestle with a hint of impostor syndrome. This dress feels like it belongs to another world, one far beyond your own, meant for the Rinas of the world.

As Sunghoon rubs your shoulders, he senses the tension building within you, "No," he murmurs.

You shift your face to look at him, "What do you mean, 'no'?"

He presses his mouth to your exposed shoulder, kissing it tenderly.,"No, as in, no to whatever you're thinking about. You look unreal, and I'm not leaving here until you say that you do." His kisses trail along your shoulders and back as he gently rubs your arms.

"I do feel pretty, I know I do, but do you think it suits me?" Sunghoon's hands untie the bow at the top, and you look at him with a shocked expression. "Park Sunghoon, don't you dare."

Laughing, he shakes his head. "You've got such a filthy mind," he teases. When the neckline tightens against your throat, you realize what he's doing. "And you have terrible bow-tying skills." Closing your eyes and lowering your head, embarrassed at where your mind went to first.

"I mean... I could bend you over and..." His words trail off suggestively, and you feel his hands slide down your arms as he kisses down your spine.

"Sunghoon," you warn, but it doesn't deter him. He continues to glide his fingers up under the dress, ready to pull your underwear down.

"I'm serious, Sunghoon. Don't," you insist as your face flushes a deep shade of red.

He steps back, his presence behind you providing some distance. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and despite the feebleness of your warning, he wanted you to know he would stop whenever you asked, especially after what you’d been through.

Scrunching your hair, he holds it in an updo and brings two pieces of your hair to cascade down your face, “Picture it with your hair and makeup done, your bangs blown out a little like Sabrina Carpenter, I think you’d be the prettiest in the place - but I’m biased because you’re always the prettiest to me.” How did he know what hairstyle Sabrina Carpenter had?

A shop assistant enters and catches sight of you through the mirror, gasping out an almost silent "wow." Sunghoon's smug grin grows wider; he knew your beauty in this dress would be undeniable. The girl fetches two of her colleagues who have the same reaction.

The man behind you turns to them, "I think we need some shoes, don’t you think?" All of them nod in agreement as you swish around, locking eyes with Sunghoon. You’ve lived out your fantasy; it’s time to go. Yet, he’s already dashing to the front of the store, quickly returning with a pair of Medusa '95 slingback pumps adorned with the Versace logo on the buckle. The stiletto is about 4 and a half inches, smaller than what you’re used to, but Sunghoon knows your style and that you’ll manage just fine.

The eager assistants gather around to help you put the classic shoes on and they fit just right. The combination of the heels and the dress was just perfect, like something picked for a celebrity going to the Oscars.

As you stand there in front of everyone once again, you feel a little like Mia in the Princess Diaries with the way their eyes are on you after your big transformation. Sunghoon was right, with your hair and makeup done, you’d be the talk of the event.

Your new makeshift stylist stands there as if he’s assessing you from head to toe. His middle finger rubs his bottom lip as he saunters over to you, his eyes carrying affection and deep thought, “We’ll take them.”

Is he out of his mind?

“Hoonie, I can’t,” your eyes watch as the people in the shop scurry to get everything prepared for you, their eyes lighting up. They must work on commission because no one in shops like Primark would ever work so fast.

“Go get changed, no arguing. Let me do this,” he mutters into your lips, kissing you tenderly.

“I can’t, it is way too expensive and this goes way beyond breaching our rules,” you protest.

Sunghoon sighs and tries to think. You’re getting that dress whether you like it or not, he just has to convince you to let him buy it for you, “Don’t see it as a gift from me but for me. I want to see you accept your award in that dress, so I’m buying it for myself to give to you. Completely selfish of me if you think about it.”

Accepting an almost £2000 gown wasn’t within your capabilities, no matter how gorgeous you looked in it. Your tiny savings couldn’t even pay for the buckles on the shoes the staff were slowly taking off your feet.

“I’m serious, Hoonie. I can’t accept it,” you cross your arms over in a huff, standing your ground as Sunghoon frustratingly runs his hands through his hair.

“Okay, how about this? I will buy it today and you will pay me back. Then it’s not a gift but a loan. See? problem solved.” He was adamant for sure. It might take you forever to pay him back but it seemed like the best option for your scenario.

Nodding, you relax your body, “fine, deal,” you grab his hand and shake it, “I’ll pay back every penny.” You’re going to have to work some serious overtime but it’ll be worth it., you’ll be belle of the ball or whatever the saying is.

As you walk away and get changed back into your ordinary clothes, Sunghoon speaks up, “Oh, and I only accept repayment in kisses. No cash.” He smirks and swiftly heads out to the payment desk.

“Park Sunghoon! That’s not happening!” You shout at him.

“Sorry, Sweets, we shook on it.” The smug man doesn’t even glance back at you.

That son of a bitch.

___________

It’s the night of the ceremony and you are beyond nervous. The idea of being acknowledged in front of a room full of people makes you sick to your stomach. Sure, you won’t be the only one there accepting an award since it’s for all the top students throughout the city, but all eyes will be on you at some point or other and that is what is causing the knots in your tummy.

Was it a bad idea to go tonight? It’s not as if you wouldn’t get the award, they would hand it into the Uni for you if you suddenly decided not to show up. You pace around your room, shaking your hands and breathing out to calm down. It’s not that big of a deal, get over it, you tell yourself, but nothing is stopping your thoughts. What if you fall? What if you got the date wrong? What if it’s a prank?

All these what-ifs circle in your head.

You throw yourself in front of your vanity mirror to look at yourself and assess whether you really can do this. The makeup and hair you've chosen for yourself make you appear to have it all together; the light eyeliner and gold shimmer eye shadow subtly make your eyes appear larger, and the Bardot fringe framing your face, as Sunghoon had suggested, it all ties together beautifully.

Maybe you can do this. Maybe, the reason you’re feeling so nervous is that you aren’t used to any sort of fuss being made about you, the spotlight always shining on your brother, Rina, or literally anyone else but you. When you got the letter through, you cried over not getting attention and recognition for it, and now here you are sweating over the fact you are getting what you wanted.

“Y/N, can I come in?” Minhee asks through the door. He hadn’t left for his shoot yet and honestly, you didn’t think you’d see him tonight.

You nod and then remember he can’t see you through the wooden door, “Oh, yeah come in.” You hadn’t begun to get ready in your dress yet, most of your time spent on the lashes you eventually decided to leave behind after a 30-minute dispute with yourself and some glue.

Standing up to greet him, Minhee comes in and closes the door behind him and when he sees you all dolled up, he scrunches his face, “Since when did my little sister become so grown up?” He inspects you, walking around you to look at your hair, “You’ve got a bit sticking out the back, by the way.”

Running back over to your mirror you examine your hair, looking for the imperfection but you don’t see it. With Minhee’s snort, you realise he’s joking, “Fuck off, Mini, don’t say shit like that!” you complain, going over your hair anyway.

“Sorry, Y/N, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you so dolled up before.” He says.

"Yeah, well, it's a big night." You don't mean to say it snarkily, but Minhee seems to interpret it that way, his head dropping to look at the floor. He wanted nothing more than to be there for you, and it hurt him that you might think he didn't care.

Of course, you knew he cared; he told you he tried to reschedule this commercial shoot the night you found out; you can't blame him for not attending this ceremony because he at least tried to be there.

Minhee puts his hands in his pockets, “I can see if we can finish early. I might be able to make some of it?”

Your eyes widen in panic, thinking about what would happen if he showed up only to see Sunghoon sitting beside you, “No, no, really it’s okay. Just have fun at your shoot.”

“You think I will have fun knowing I’m missing my baby sister's first life achievement?” He’s angry but not at you, at himself and the situation he’s in because the more he speaks, the more he hates himself for not just throwing this schedule to the wind so he could come with you. But there’s more to it than you know.

Facing him, you try to offer him an empathetic expression: "Mini, I didn't mean it that way. Plus, my first major life achievement was high school graduation, and you came to that."

Smiling, you recall how he made such a fuss about something so insignificant in your view. Minhee created a banner that read 'Y/N, You Rock!' on it. It was cheesy and unusual to bring to graduation, but because you had always crafted signs to bring with you when you cheered him on at contests, he thought it was not only hilarious but also appropriate, “Plus, I’ll just win it again next year so you can come with me then.”

He smiles slightly and finds some comfort in your words. It amazed him how you managed to make everyone else feel better about themselves even when they shouldn’t. Gently, he attempts to fix your bangs, “Take lots of pictures, yeah? So many that I don’t think I missed it at all.”

“I will,” You stick your hand up in the air and he laughs, high-fiving you.

Before he leaves you for his schedule, he asks one more dreaded question, “Who are you taking anyway?”

It was the one question you hadn’t prepped for and now suddenly you’re back in school being given a pop quiz on a book you forgot to read.

“R-Rina! You know she would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t bring her along.” It was quick thinking and a plausible answer. He didn’t know she was stuck inside, studying for tomorrow’s exam.

“I figured, just wondering since you’re wearing that perfume you only wear for dates.” He smirks.

You sprayed a little Crystal Noir on your pulse points once you finished your hair to give it time to die down before you had to leave, “Excuse me, I use it for all special occasions.” Crossing your arms, you stand defensively. If he caught a whiff of a guy coming with you to this event, he wouldn’t let it go, and you couldn’t exactly blurt out that it was Sunghoon you were taking.

“Whatever. Have a good time, okay? If anything happens or Rina gets out of hand, give me a call, yeah?” Minhee stands half out of your room, holding the door as if he wants to say something else, “I’m proud of you, Bubs.”

Don’t fucking cry, this foundation is so expensive.

“Thanks, Mini. Love you,” you utter in a low voice, appreciative of his words.

Minhee closes the door behind him and you check your phone for the time. You have an hour to finish getting dressed, plenty of time to fit in a few more what-ifs, and learn to tie the bow of your dress correctly.

_____

Brushing off any dust or hair from your dress, you take a glance at yourself in the mirror. You look good like you’re prepared for this. Your phone pings with a new message.

No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:

6:14pm: Hey Sweets, are you ready?

6:14pm: Yeah! Are you nearly here?

Just as your message was sent, the doorbell rings. Sunghoon didn’t wait about, you thought you had at least another 10 minutes before he showed up.

Running down the stairs, almost as if you’re gliding, you swing the door open, not even looking at Sunghoon properly, “Come in! I’m just going to get my stuff from upstairs.”

You’re like a mist, coming as fast as you go and Sunghoon bewilderingly helps himself into your home. This is the first time he dared to step foot in the Kang residence, giving him a strange feeling.

Glancing around, his eyes grew with curiosity as he took in the intricacies that made up the place. His gaze lingered on the framed images on the walls, which captured different parts of your life from young until now. It was as if each image represented a chapter, and he was turning the pages.

However, he did notice how there was only one of you solely on your own, you were 14, leaning on a tree on an evidently hot summer day in your sundress. He remembers you so clearly at that age, it’s strange considering he didn’t get to speak more than 3 words to you back then. The smile on his face grows as his gratitude for the time he can spend with you now seeps into his heart.

The padding of your feet down the carpeted stairs pulls his eyes away, looking at the now 19-year-old you. You’re fighting to put a pair of earrings in as you hold the Versace shoes by their strap on one of your free fingers and your handbag swings from your left shoulder.

Once you win your battle with the small gold hoops, you place the shoes and bag down, “Sorry, I’ll be two minutes, let me just put these on and we’re good to go.”

But before you can sit on the last step of the staircase to buckle your shoes, Sunghoon unbuttons his jacket and kneels, grabbing the shoes and sliding them on your feet. You finally stop for a minute and take in the scene in front of you - he’s so sweet you could melt.

Sunghoon carefully buckles your heels, trying not to nip your skin. "Are they alright?" he asks, looking up at you. You confirm with a nod, eliciting a slight smile on his face. As he slides his hands over the outside of your legs, he gently kisses the inner area of your calves. He doesn’t know why he does it, it just feels natural to kiss every inch of your body.

He gets back on his feet and leans back to look at you. Even though he had previously seen the dress on you, seeing you in it again with your hair and makeup done and the accessories you selected was a completely other experience, “Wow.”

It’s not what he wanted to say exactly, but it’s all he could at the moment. You had completely blown him away.

Blushing, you push him playfully, taking in his outfit of choice as you do so. He’s wearing a simple black suit with silk trimmings, his lace-up derby shoes match the shininess of yours, and his tie is adorned with a gold Prada tie bar. He did the simplest things to match you without being too obvious about it, and the attention to detail erupted butterflies in your chest.

“You look amazing, Hoonie,” you compliment.

“Don’t I always?” he replies cockily, doing a showman spin so you can see all of his outfit. He’s so silly sometimes it cancels out his arrogance. Buttoning his jacket back up, he holds out his arm for you to take, “Shall we?”

You take his arm and grin vibrantly at him, shaking your head in agreement. Locking the door behind you, and double checking your purse, you make your way to the venue.

Arriving at the event makes you even more overwhelmed than you thought you would be. It’s just an award ceremony for some uni kids but it looks like the Met Gala. Everyone is dressed to the nines, the atmosphere is filled with excitement and amazement, and you begin to wonder just what it’s like on the inside.

Sunghoon places his hand on your shoulder to gain your attention, “Are you sure you’re not winning a Grammy or something?” He jokes, unintentionally easing your mind.

“I know, I can’t believe the city would do this for a couple of students that got high grades.”

In a dubious yet playful tone, he quirked his mouth to the side and asked, "Is that all you are? A student with high grades?" The mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips showed his scepticism over your self-deprecation. Did you truly think that’s all you were? “I’d say to be the most exceptional student of the whole of Yonsei, it would go further than just your grades, right?” He massages your shoulder, thumb circling lightly.

When you look at him, he’s waiting for you to agree with him. You know you’re downplaying it right now, but it’s the only way you might be able to get through the ceremony without vomiting, “Yeah okay, maybe it’s more than that.”

“No, you’re more than that, Sweets.” Why was it even when he was disgustingly cheesy, it made your heart do summersaults, “C’mon, let’s go.” He gets out of the car and rushes to your side to open the door for you. The place had a valet so Sunghoon reluctantly handed the boy his keys, scared for his poor baby.

Walking into the Cathedral was daunting yet exhilarating. The buzz in the air and loud chatter meant your senses didn’t know what to settle on. The inside was beautiful, the architecture old and filled with history, and now you were adding to it in a way, which helps you smile.

A waiter comes over with champagne on a tray and offers you and Sunghoon one each which you gladly take. You take a sip and savour the fruity taste, Normally, you’re content with a £6 bottle of Echo Falls which doesn’t even truly count as wine never mind champagne, so this is a new experience for you. The drink glides down your throat as you take another swig.

Your date pushes his glass to you, “Here, take this one.”

“Why? Aren’t you having it?”

“Nah, I don’t drink. Plus, I drove us here.” Sunghoon shrugs and takes the empty glass from your hand, deciding not to comment on how you downed a probably £15 glass of champagne in record time.

You forgot he didn’t drink, so used to everyone around you necking bottles like they were going out of fashion, you are a bit like that too to be fair so you can’t judge them. Even Minhee drank like a fish when he didn’t have training the next morning.

Speaking of Minhee.

“Hey, can you take a picture of me next to the sign?” you point your head towards the grand sign that says ‘25th Annual Crowning Achievement Gala’ in gold writing, weirdly matching your attire.

Sunghoon agrees, stretching out his hand to take your phone, “Does Rina want to see your outfit?”

“No, I promised Mini I would take lots of pictures,” you say nonchalantly, not seeing the way Sunghoon’s expression turns sour. It’s been easy to forget they hate each other since you don’t really bring them up in front of one another.

Adding to his bitterness is the text that conveniently popped up from your brother the exact moment he took your phone. Even his name triggered Sunghoon, not only from their past but because he should be here with you, regardless of circumstances. Sunghoon couldn’t wrap his head around why he wouldn’t just drop everything for you, how his career took prestige over his own little sister. The idea that you aren’t everyone’s first priority makes him sick. He made a vow you would never feel like a second option when you’re with him.

If you could hear the torrent of names and accusations swirling in Sunghoon's mind, it would undoubtedly spark an argument. However, while you couldn't read his thoughts, his facial expressions spoke volumes. “Sunghoon, please. He asked for a picture,” you plead, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“He should have fucking been here,” he seethes, his frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Was he really going to make a scene here and now? Catching the disbelief on your face, he deflates, realizing that this isn’t the appropriate time or place for his outburst. “Sorry, Sweets,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with remorse.

You offer a sarcastic thank you and dutifully pose next to the sign. Sunghoon snaps about 10 different pictures, determined to capture the perfect shot. In his eyes, you look stunning in every single one, but he knows he may be a bit biased.

The bell rings to signal the ceremony is starting and you make your way to the assigned seat. You’re both placed at a round table, big enough to fit 12 people, and in the middle of the table there is a candelabra with flowers at the base and three ice buckets with red and white wine.

“This is way too fancy for a school award,” The girl beside you whispers, to which you just nod. As everyone takes their seats, you see Sunghoon pull out your chair for you before sitting on his own. The girl next to you hits her partner and mutters, “Why didn’t you do that for me?”

Sunghoon was a high standard to meet, you knew that. Despite his flaws, he was always gentle with you, raising the bar for your needs more and more. When you eventually find a boy you can be with, he’ll never be on Sunghoon’s level, no one could ever be.

The pain deepens each time you realise that Sunghoon may never be someone you can call yours.

He reaches over and pours you a white wine, smiling as he does so. One thing you’ve learned about Sunghoon is that he loves to do simple acts of service, and right now he is in his element. Being able to look after you, even in the most simple ways is all he has ever wanted. And since it’s your big night, you’re being more lenient with your rules. He wonders just how far he could push it.

Taking your left hand in his, he intertwines your fingers and brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it softly, “Do you think there’s an overall award? Like, is one of you better than anyone else?” he asks.

“Nah, it would be cruel to make someone an overall winner of a winner. It would take away from the feeling of achievement everyone has,” you look around and see what must be about 90 people. You hadn’t known there were so many universities around the place.

"Yeah, imagine people winning a tournament but still needing to compete again to be the best of the best. I couldn't think of anything worse." Sunghoon gives you a look that asks, ‘Are you aware of who you are speaking to?’ and you realise who you are talking with, Mr. Ice Prince, who is about to compete in Nationals before going on to compete in the Olympics.

The irony was evident, as the person you were expressing this to was thoroughly entrenched in the world of competitive figure skating, which was based on the very idea you found so frustrating. Not that you’re all kumbaya or anything, but it’s a shame that everything in life seems to be a competition.

“How has training been for Nationals?” you ask, focusing on his nose freckle.

“Sweets you come to nearly all my practices, you know it’s going okay,” he eyes you suspiciously, “Wait, was I right the first day I saw you lurking around the ring? Have you made this grand plan to get me whipped for you so you can spy on me?” Sunghoon’s eyebrow raised playfully, “Now you want to sike me out?”

“What? NO!” you proclaim, laughing in disbelief.

“It’s all coming out now, baby, you can’t hide it anymore,” both of you laugh at the thought of an elaborate scheme being the reason he’s sitting beside you right now.

You kiss his hand that’s still tangled with yours, “Hand in hand, I promise I have relayed absolutely nothing to my brother.”

“Want to tell me what he’s planning then? A flying camel spin? Quad jumps?” Wiggling his brows you let go of his hand a roll your eyes. To be honest, you haven’t seen Minhee’s practice in a while.

Come to think of it, your mum hasn’t pestered you to be there like she normally does. The first few times you missed his practices she reprimanded you, telling you how much missing the training lowers Minhee’s confidence. It’s not that you wanted to miss them, and you tried your hardest to be there, it’s just…you were always with Sunghoon.

The tapping of a mic diverts your attention from your worries to the stage, “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’m so happy to see so many young talents within our universities, it fills me with pride for this city.” The Chancellor of Education beams with pride.

He continues to ramble on about a bunch of stuff that you couldn't care less about. Your mind is preoccupied with thoughts of the three steps leading up to the stage and how easily you could trip and faceplant in front of everyone here.

A person dressed in an all-black suit comes over and speaks to your table, “Anyone who is receiving an award, please follow me.” Shit. Here you go.

You look to Sunghoon who smiles reassuringly, “Go get 'em’, Sweets.” his words are less encouraging than you need them to be at this moment, but the pride in his eyes is enough to get you up off your chair and follow the man to the side of the stage.

Sunghoon watches on as you take your place in line. He can tell you’re shitting a brick but he knows you’ll be fine, you always are - you’re tough like that. A proud smile appeared on his face, showing his admiration for you. As you got closer to the stage, the world around him melted away, leaving only the view of you, poised for recognition.

“Your girl is a looker,” One of the guys at the table says, and the others agree, but Sunghoon doesn’t take his eyes off you, scared he’ll miss any part of this.

“She is, isn’t she?” Sunghoon musters up a reply. If he wasn’t so infatuated with you right now he might have told the boy to keep his eyes off you, but he spares him for now.

Unaware of the compliments being whispered about you at the table, you find yourself sweating a little. If this were any other scenario, you would make a joke about how your palms are sweaty, mom’s spaghetti, but this isn’t a laughing matter.

As tension mounts, you silently reassure yourself that you won't stumble, that everything will be fine, and that it’s just a fleeting moment.

As the chancellor says the names of each student, you’re getting closer and closer to the stage and you start to think how you should have had way more wine to calm you, but then again, more wine equals drunk you, and she isn’t exactly steady on her feet at the best of times.

“Y/N Kang.”

Oh, that’s me. You think, smiling idly. Oh, fuck that’s me.

Centring yourself, you gracefully make it up the stairs, no accident in sight, and walk to the chancellor and thank him as you accept your award.

“WOO!”

Turning to glance at your table, you notice Sunghoon standing up, clapping and smiling broadly, his canines on full display as he makes a fuss over you and shouts your name. He begins to fist-pump the air, and everyone laughs, including you. As you place a hand over your mouth, your cheeks turn crimson not only from embarrassment but also from happiness.

The warm glow of the stage lights framed you, creating an illuminating aura around your body. Sunghoon couldn't help but congratulate himself on tricking you into allowing him to buy you the dress you're currently wearing.

You bow to the committee and hurry down the stairs, ready for the spotlight to be off you and on literally anyone else but that isn’t the case. All eyes are on you, happy faces greet you from every table as if they have known you for years, and all you can do is thank them in passing, desperate to get to Sunghoon.

Approaching the table, Sunghoon holds his hand out to stop you, and you pause in place, confused. He picks your phone up and swipes open the camera app, “Pose with your prize, Sweets.”

Obliging, you do a multitude of poses, some silly and some you could actually put on your Instagram. Once he’s satisfied, Sunghoon ushers you towards him, picking you up and spinning you around a few times, “So, so proud of you, Y/N.” Gently, his mouth meets yours as he sets you down, “So fucking proud of you, you have no idea.” his whispered affirmations of pride bring a few tears to your eyes but you blink them back.

Just like before, he pulls your seat out for you as you sit back down and congratulate the other winners at your table. You miss the way he gazed at you with a softness in his eyes that spoke volumes, an unspoken language of affection and warmth. His gaze followed the contours of your face, fixating on every detail as though he were memorising it.

He passes you the phone so you can take more pictures of your award to send to Minhee. Sunghoon doesn’t mean to read the messages between you both but he can see how he misjudged Minhee a little.

Mini <3

8:23pm Look! It’s so pretty

3 images attached

8:24pm: Bubs you look amazing?!?

8:24pm: When did my sister get so pretty?

8:24pm: I wish I was there :(

8:24pm: I know :( Me too

8:24pm: Better come next time!

8:25pm: Never missing anything again

8:25pm: Love you, I couldn’t be prouder.

8:25pm: Keep me updated!

“Hoonie, let’s get a picture together, hmm?” You haven’t ever taken a picture with him before, possibly because it’s an unspoken rule, but you can’t pass the opportunity up - not when you both look so good.

Shuffling his chair a little so he can be behind you, he leans forward, almost resting his chin on your shoulder before you snap a pic. You take a few, most of them just smiling from a different angle, that is before Sunghoon presses his lips to your cheek and closes his eyes. Closing your eyes with him, you take the picture quickly.

“Ah! It’s so pretty.” You squeal, reviewing the pictures. A serene moment filled with the tenderness of your connection unfolds as his lips find the slope of your shoulder. Sunghoon puckers his mouth and gives you a delicate kiss while his eyes focus on the photo you’re showing him, “Do you like it?”

He turns your face to look at him and whispers, "I love it." Sunghoon's gaze expressed a language deeper than the words, a confession he knows he can't make out loud, not yet, He encloses your lips in his, pouring his feelings into you the best he can.

It was as if this award ceremony wasn’t happening because you don’t even realise all the awards have been handed out and there’s a band making their way to the stage, both of you are too engrossed in one another. The band plays songs typical of these kinds of events, renditions of pop songs, and some classics to get people dancing.

As the night progresses, the table you're at empties, but you and Sunghoon remain seated, immersed in conversation about everything and anything. He's removed his jacket and hung it over the chair; his sleeves are rolled up and his tie is loose, reflecting how long you've been getting familiar with each other. You didn’t think there was anything left you could know about him after spending almost 2 months with him, but you were wrong.

As you nurse your second glass of wine, you ask him the most important question of the evening.

“Do you think aliens will come and take over the world?”

Sunghoon laughs out loud, looking at you dotingly, “What? Like right now?” he twirls a piece of your hair framing your face.

“Nah not now, but like in the future. Like some War of the Worlds shit.”

“Oh so not like little green dudes?” He asks and you shake your head assuringly, “Good, because it was hard enough batting every guy at this table tonight off of you, never mind Martians with superpowers. I don’t stand a chance there.”

You laugh for the nth time, “None of them were even looking at me.”

“Yeah, because I gave them all my signature death stare to stop looking at my girl,” he points two fingers to his eyes and imitates a stern expression.

“Ah, but see, I’m not your girl,” you lean back in your chair and cross one leg over the other, “You’re forgetting that.”

His expression shifted, becoming more earnest, "You could be..." he replied, his gaze holding a sincerity that belied the playfulness of the banter. The words are spoken with true intent, leaving a pause in the air as he looks for any response on your face.

“Hoonie-”

“I know - Minhee, and your devoted loyalty to him - but you know this is more than what we’re calling it, so why don’t we just call it like it is?” he pleads, slouching forward to take your hands in his, “We can still keep it a secret, we don’t have to tell him.”

“But he said no dating, that’s the whole point of us being in this sort of relationship,” you remind him of the loophole he had found in Minhee’s words that eased your guilt.

“Sweets, no offence but if you don’t feel guilty now, you won’t if I call you my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

He skipped the whole dating idea and just jumped straight to relationship status. But he’s right because technically you have been dating for almost 2 months, just never calling it that for your own peace of mind. You never intended to fall headfirst for Sunghoon, or maybe you did.

You can’t deny the gravitational pull you both have towards one another, that instant connection from the night he kissed you for the first time. Of course, it’s complicated, what with Minhee’s feelings involved, but maybe you should give in and see what happens.

You suck in a breath, your inner turmoil threatening to overwhelm you, "If we’re still keeping it a secret, and everything is still the same between us, why do we need to label it?"

He kisses your hands tenderly, his touch soothing, "Well, we can finally get rid of those fucking rules that neither of us cared about in the first place. I can take you out and proudly call it a date, and shower you with gifts as your man," Sunghoon's gaze shifts from your hands to your eyes, his expression earnest, "And I get to proudly call you mine, for as long as you’ll have me."

The sensation of his lips against your skin sends tingles down your spine, and his words ease the weight of your unspoken desires. It would be a relief to just be with him, but could your mind ever silence the guilt?

“Y/N, listen to me,” he turns deadly serious, a little annoyed at how much Minhee is having a say in this without even uttering a word, “Minhee is a grown man, he will get over it. He won’t hate you, he loves you too much for that. Will he be a little angry at the beginning? Sure, but that won’t last, okay? He does not own you, nor can he tell you who you can and cannot date,” he begs you to see his point of view, “Please just be with me.”

You feel the weight of his words in your chest. Sunghoon hasn’t ever led you wrong so far, so why would he now? Minhee would get over it because, at the end of the day, that’s your brother, the same brother that used to plat your hair when it got in your way, and the same brother who protected you from any hurt when your parents split, hugging you through the shouting. He wouldn’t abandon you so easily.

Sunghoon watches as his words calm you down, and a glimmer of hope punches his heart.

“We still keep it a secret, I can’t tell him just yet. We’ll do it after Nationals.” You tell him a matter of fact.

Nodding understandingly, he reaches for your face, “Yeah, anything you want, Sweets. We’ll do it all at your pace.” This is everything he’s ever wanted, the opportunity to call you his girl, and now that it’s finally here, he feels like he’s the one who won something tonight, “So?”

“So?” You repeat.

“Are you mine? Officially?” he knows the answer, he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

“I’m yours, Hoonie.”

Dramatically, he lets go of you and sinks into his chair, face etched in glee and relief, it’s a dream come true to have you say those words and he thinks he might pass out. Placing one hand over his heart he breathes out a quiet ‘thank fuck for that’, making you giggle.

A teasing smile tugged at the edges of your lips, and your eyes twinkled with affection, “You’re so silly.” you grab his hand from his heart and replace it with yours, patting it softly. The simple gesture has his face splitting with a grin and his eyes closing.

“My girlfriend,” he whispers to himself but you hear it, your brain dizzying at the thought. He starts to sit up, “My princess, my baby, my angel.” Grabbing your face he kisses you all over like he’s leaving little sprinkles of affection anywhere he can, “Fuck those stupid rules, I’m calling you whatever I want, buying you whatever I want, having sex with you wherever I want.”

“Uh, didn’t you do that anyway?” you say between titters.

“Yeah, but now I don’t have to have your beautiful, perfect, eyes glaring at me every time I do.” Maybe you were a little harsh on him, considering you broke a lot of them multiple times too, “Promise me you won’t back out of this, baby.”

The petname falls just as easily as his nickname for you. Secretly, you hope he doesn’t stop calling you Sweets because even though you don’t know why he does it, it’s his thing for you and you love it, “I promise. And if I feel myself doubting or thinking about how Minhee will feel, I’ll talk to you about it first,” you say this because Sunghoon is the only one that can get you out of your previous mindset, he proved that tonight.

Resting his forehead against yours, Sunghoon looks directly into your eyes, “Good. Because I’m yours and I won’t let him ruin this for us. I don’t care.”

“Me either.” And you truly mean it.

The sound of glasses being collected and chairs stacked upon one another makes you retreat from him and look up. The event had been over for a hot minute, only you, Sunghoon, and a few drunken mothers who can’t get up off the dance floor are left in the grand hall.

You check your phone and see it’s almost 3am, “Shit, we better go.”

Sunghoon peers at the clock on his watch and a pout forms on his lips, “We didn’t even get to dance.”

“Eh, whatever, we can do that whenever we like now.” You cheekily remark, turning his sullen expression into one of amazement. You can tell he still doesn’t really believe it.

“Please tell me you don’t have to go home tonight?” He asks.

Shaking your head you stand up, putting things back into your bag, “No, I told Minhee and Mum I would be staying at Rina’s so I don’t wake them up.”

“Great.” He slings your bag over his shoulder and grabs your award before he lifts you up, earning a yelp from you but he doesn’t acknowledge it, instead opting to squeeze your ass with his free hand and keep his grip there to ensure you don’t fall.

“Hoonie, what are you doing?” You laugh, securing your legs and arms around him.

“What does it look like? I’m going home so I can fuck my award-winning girlfriend.”

______

Sunghoon pushes you into his flat as he kisses you passionately, his mouth never leaving yours even when he unlocks the door and slams it shut behind him. You’re just as needy for him, pulling at his tie to drag him into the bedroom that you know your way to oh, so well.

Despite the urgency in both of your bodies, he places your award gently on his desk, sure to not break it. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less, you need him more than a glass trophy. You begin to practically climb his tall figure, seeking any sort of sexual relief.

He knew you couldn’t wait for him when you were kissing him at every traffic light and had his belt unbuckled before he even made it out of the car. He was honestly surprised you didn’t try to suck him off while he was driving.

You began to strip him of his tie and shirt, fumbling with his buttons all the way down, “Easy, baby, you have me.” He reassures you, but there isn’t any stopping you tonight, you’re on a high like no other. You just got a boyfriend, got acknowledged for all your hard work in uni, and now you’re going to fuck until the sun comes up, what’s not to love about your life right now?

Without you even noticing, he unties the bow behind your neck and pulls it down, exposing your erect nipples. Sleeking his hands down from your neck to your tits, he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, pinching every so often to send a jolt through your body and down to your sex.

Pushing, you guide him to the bed until he collapses on it, a quiet ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the force. Sunghoon wasn’t necessarily prepared for you to be so in control but he won’t complain, how could he when you were climbing onto him, tits dangling in front of him like tempting raindrops and he’s been in the desert, thirsty for them.

He sits up, chest at eye level as he licks up the curve of your right breast, teasing you. You’re hands run through his hair, pushing his bangs back so you can get a good look at his face. He has the same bright look he always does when he gets to play with your tits, it would actually be quite sweet if you both weren’t about to perform a sinful act.

Flickering his eyes up to you, he smirks, taking your nipple into his mouth finally twirling his tongue around it hungrily. The way he keeps staring into your eyes as he sucks your tit has you breathing out slowly and your chest moving heavily.

Once his teeth sink into you, your eyes shut and your head falls back. His sharp teeth gently tug at your nub, then licking it softly - he alternates between the nip and pleasure his mouth is giving you.

Deciding enough is enough, you pull his face away, watching as he goes to go right back to it; if it wasn’t for the grip you had on him, he would have, “Please don’t stop me,” He whines, his eyes looking at you, a drip of begging splashing around in his iris.

“Do you want to suck my tits, or fuck me?” You pose.

Sunghoon doesn’t have to think about it, he knows exactly what the answer is. Curling his arms behind you, he zips down your dress as it sits at the bottom of your spine, using the opportunity to kiss the valley of your breasts. He bunches up the material and lifts it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

His jaw nearly hits the floor as he sees the white mesh thong tilted on your waist, “Fuck,” He can’t believe you had that under the dress the whole time and he’s only getting to see it now.

You wouldn’t normally wear white with a black dress but it’s his favourite colour on you which you discovered recently. One night you wore his white t-shirt to bed and he couldn’t stop looking at you, his hands all over you the second he saw you adorned in it.

“They’re cute, right?” You were proud of your purchase before but now seeing his reaction, you were more than pleased with yourself.

“Baby, did you buy them for me?” He licks his lips, the corners of his lips tugging up as he runs his middle finger along your clothed slit, dipping it to pull the underwear closer to him. It gives him the chance to see just how wet you are, the patch darkening the material.

Nodding your head, you reply, “All for you, Hoonie” Your voice comes out more seductive than you mean to but it only fuels his fire more.

You bite your finger and smile down, acting bashful but he sees right through it, knowing you’re enjoying how he’s reacting to you, “I’ve hit the fucking jackpot with you,” He confesses, still eyeing your cunt.

It makes you giddy how easily he says things like that, as if it comes so naturally to him to compliment you or make you feel like you’re the only girl he’s ever looked at.

To Sunghoon, you might as well be the only woman on the planet, he doesn’t care about any of the others, not when you’re here gracing this earth. Your laugh, your smile, your body, your ability to inject him with a new lease of life, why would he ever need to look at anyone else?

“Are you just going to stare?” You lean down to his ear, “Or are you going to fuck your girlfriend?”

He almost cums, your words shooting down to his dick and making it throb. You’re his girlfriend. He won’t ever get used to it, dreaming about it so long he thought that’s all it would be, a distant dream. When you said you would be his, his heart could have vomited.

Grabbing your waist, he flips you over, his expression is menacing which means you’re in for the time of your life. Your boyfriend captures your lips with his, hands roughly grabbing at your sides and hips.

With whatever of your concentration isn’t on his tongue in your mouth, you undo his trousers and push them down with your feet, dragging his boxers down in the process. All that’s left on him is his white shirt but you don’t want to get rid of that just yet. The way it’s lazily hanging off his shoulders makes him look like those slutty little white tunics in period dramas.

Sunghoon’s mouth moves from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, suckling the base of your neck which he knows gets you a moaning mess.

True to his knowledge, you mewl out, tilting your head to encourage him more.

His hands slither down to your thong, playing with it a little to tease you and fill you with anticipation. As he pushes the material away, exposing your folds, he looks down, “You’re so ready for me, Sweets, don’t you think?” He slides two of his fingers in between your pussy, quickly dipping them in and out with ease before offering them to your lips/

Without hesitation, you accept his silent invitation, sucking his fingers clean, never stopping your intense gaze into his eyes.

The way you know what he wants without him having to vocalise it just makes him even more desperate for you. He presses his fingers against your tongue, causing you to open your mouth, “Stick it out for me,” Sunghoon asks, eyes clouded with lust.

As you stick your tongue out, he retracts his fingers, delving to lick your tongue, “You taste so good, baby,” he licks your tongue once more before committing to the kiss you’ve been craving.

Desperately, you grab his cock and pump him, your hand inadvertently skimming past your clit in the prosses due to how close his body is to yours.

The sudden touch from you shocks Sunghoon but what really sends him reeling is your thumb rubbing over his head, circling the tip with pressure, “Jesus Christ,” he huffs out breathlessly, his hips bucking into your palm, hoping for more delicious release from your grip.

His hot breath hits your face as he pants, only making you more eager to please him. Bringing your hips up, you trap his cock between your slit and palm, rubbing both against his shaft, the heat of your pussy contradicts the coldness of your hand, making Sunghoon’s brain fry.

Your fingers push him to sit neatly in your folds, however, when you thrust your hips up again, the pressure makes the head of his cock dip into your entrance, causing you both to moan loudly.

“Sweets, let me put on a condom,” he swallows, managing to choke out the words amidst his desire. He shakes his head trying to bring himself to a rational state but as you dip him in again, he can only groan, “Fuck.”

“We don’t need one,” you assert, shallowly fucking yourself on the first 2 inches of his cock, “I want to feel my boyfriend.”

Your words hang in the air but none of you stop your actions, not even pretending to think about it. Sunghoon nudges your nose with his, “You sure?”

“I’m positive, baby,” you whisper into his mouth, sharing your wants with him. You’re both too far gone into one another that none of you have the common sense to say no.

The man above you nods, placing two tiny kisses on your lips while his hips move with the pressure of your hand, “I’ll pull out, I promise,” he has never given you a reason to distrust his promises and you won't start now.

He captures your lips in a searing kiss with a low growl as you push more of him inside you. To be fair, the feeling isn’t that much different from when he wears condoms, the thin feel condoms he buys, he buys for a reason.

But this wasn’t about feeling his cock raw, it was about connecting with him just that little bit more, about showing your trust in him.

The head of his cock slowly hits you deeper, each time he jerks his hips into you, he penetrates deeper inside. The feel of your naked walls on his bell feels unreal, the way each bump scrapes his tender tip makes him groan, his head buried into your neck to muffle his sounds.

“You feel so good, Hoonie,” With his cock now fully inside you, your fingertips graze up his tensing toned stomach and around to his back, caressing him gently, “Faster, please,” you ask as your hands slide to his ass, pushing down rhymically to set him at a new pace.

Sunghoon loves when you subtly take control, still letting him be the one to fuck you so good you see stars while telling him how to get you there. He can read your body so well but that doesn’t mean you can’t tell him what else you need from him.

Lifting your bottom half, he holds your hips and pounds into you the way you want, the velocity of his thrusts sends your eyes to the back of your head. You can’t help but moan his name loudly, chanting it like you’re possessed, “Sunghoon, shit, don’t stop.”

He chuckles, looking down at you, “You’re mad if you think I ever would.”

Shuffling so your butt is balancing on his thighs, he bucks up into you with the same speed but now he’s using one of his free hands to rub your clit, adding a new layer of intensity, “Holy fuck,” You thrash under him as your nub tingles at his touch.

Your words provide him with all the encouragement he needs to give you even more, “You’re so good at taking me, Sweets. Look how good you are,” He entices you to look down but you stop as you finally look at his face; the sweat dripping from his forehead, some of it collected in the creases of his brows as he scrunches his face, focused only on fucking you into heaven. His mouth is hanging open, pushing out short breaths to mirror the movement of his hips.

He’s so deliciously hot.

If your pussy could actually purr, it would be, but instead, it’s clenching to show that you’re close. The tightness doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who smirks, looking at you with hooded eyes, “You gonna cum, baby?”

Sunghoon’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he flicks your clit faster, trying to get you closer to the edge. This will be the first time he’s experiencing you cumming on his raw cock, so he’s a little impatient, desperate to know what your core feels like as it grips him naked.

“Hoon..Hoonie..” your heartbeat is rapidly increasing in your chest but your breathing is slowing down, a clear indicator that you’re coming undone, “I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming.”

“Yeah, you are, sweetheart” Sunghoon has to control himself but it’s painfully difficult as he feels your walls clamp down and contract on his member. He’s so engrossed in the feeling of you that he keeps going, pressing your stomach down with his arm to stop you from escaping and slipping off him.

His thumb goes hard at your swollen bud, the fast sensation causing you to try and pull away. It feels like you’re on fire but Sunghoon has no desire to stop. He physically can’t, you feel too good, the squirming of your hips mixed in with your walls hugging him, there was no way he could give it up just yet.

You choke on the air you're actively trying to get into your lungs as your boyfriend overstimulates you. It’s painful, yet, you’re begging for it not to stop.

“Oh my god, Hoon.” your voice is sore from all the moaning and dry mouth you have.

“I’m nearly there, Sweets. Fuck, I’m so close.” Now that he’s seeking his own release, he switches his position, opting to have you as close to him as possible. With the little strength he has left, he hugs your body and scoops you to sit fully on his cock, tits bouncing in his face as he guides you up and down his shaft, “Y/N, can you keep it clenched for me? Please?” The please comes out as a whispered beg.

Nodding, you gather your focus to your pussy and squeeze him and it’s like you’re suddenly seeing stars, his cock sloppily hitting your g-spot over and over thanks to the newfound tightness.

Shutting his eyes to truly envelope himself in the feel of you, his stomach tightens, balls throbbing as he stops himself from cumming, “Fuck, wait,” he abruptly lifts you off him, the last drag of his head against your squeezed hole has ropes of his cum shooting up as high as your breasts, “Y/N, shit, Jesus.”

You stare at his cock as it keeps unloading between you both, creating a sticky mess on both of your bodies. It’s always so beautiful to see him cum like this, although usually it’s on your face after you’ve given him a blow job.

Both of you are equally spent, panting filling the otherwise silent room. You revel in the aftermath of the ecstasy, the air thick with the scent of your combined essence.

As the waves of pleasure gradually ebb away, you feel contentment wash over your body and mind, eliciting a smile from you. This was truly the best night of your life.

Sunghoon’s eyes drag up your body as he notices the cum splattered on your tits, “Fucking hell, look at you,” his tone is saturated in awe and delight as he drinks you in. Honestly, he didn’t know he could shoot that far; he’ll have to give himself a pat on the back later for creating the masterpiece in front of him.

Swiftly, he brings his mouth back to your tit, licking the cum from you and your eyes widen in shock. Guys don’t tend to even want to kiss you if you’ve swallowed their cum, never mind cleaning it off your body.

Truthfully, Sunghoon isn’t in his right mind just yet, still clouded with lust, aching for any sort of contact with you. Your tits are all he sees.

“Sunghoon?” you try to bring him back but it doesn’t work, you’ll need to physically drag him away from your chest. Cupping his face, you bring him to level with you again, “You okay?”

“I need you so fucking much,” he whispers, his lips seeking yours in a tender kiss.

Your laughter dances between you, "You just had me," you tease, the warmth of his lips against yours sparking a playful energy between you.

But his next words sober the moment, revealing a depth of feeling that leaves you breathless. "No, like in every sense, I fucking need you. I can't imagine even breathing without you," he admits, his vulnerability laid bare in the afterglow of the moment.

Moved by Sunghoon's heartfelt confession, you feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With an adoring smile, you caress his cheek, your touch a silent reassurance of your love for him.

"I need you too, Sunghoon," you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath against his lips. "More than anything.” It’s a simple mirror of his words, but you hope he knows you truly mean it.

To be frank, even if you had just said ‘ditto’ back, he would have been content. There are feelings for you so deep routed into his soul that he’s terrified and excited all at once.

And you’re all his.

“My girlfriend,” he beams, finally coming out of his lust coma, “You’re mine.”

His words strike a chord deep inside you, creating an overwhelming feeling of belonging and security that wraps around your heart like a warm embrace. With a delicate grin, you return his adoration, your fingers tracing soft patterns along his jawline as you enjoy the tenderness of his affection for you.

"I'm yours, Hoonie," you say quietly your voice full of reverence, "Until you want to get rid of me."

Kissing your palm, he smirks, trailing all the way up your arm and along your shoulder, “I’m literally never letting you go, I’m sorry,” his eyes shine a playful glint as he peppers kisses along your face, “That also means right now.”

He quickly pushes you back into the mattress, both of you laughing as he softly kisses your nose; nevertheless, you know the gentleness will fade as soon as he realises he hasn't even eaten you yet. It’s not in him not to devour your pussy.

You can only sigh in satisfaction as he runs his lips down your stomach.

This is everything you’ve ever wanted. He is everything you’ve ever wanted.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fluff #aj writes #melting point #park sunghoon smut

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kelppsstuff · 2 months

Note

I NEED part two of that cheating Adam fic

That actually made me cry and I desperately want that asshole to get what he deserves

..but what if Lucifer got to wife? Obviously, our dear ruler of hell seems to still be attached to Lilith, considering the ring he's still wearing, so what do you think will happen if he meets reader?

Omggggg, I’m so glad you enjoyed it! And yes Adam shall get what’s coming! And I hope you enjoy this chapter as well! Make sure to take care of your self and have a good day! 💛

“How long.” Part two

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | ALT ENDING

Masterlist

Taglist: @leathesimp @need-a-life-or-grass @biggdaddylonglegs @lululucii @pawstrey @lanny-fanny223 @goseew @adamsfavoritesinner

—

You had spent the five months crying at Emily home. Lilies would show up, your favorite flower. It made your heart ache even more. No matter where you go you couldn’t get far enough away from him.

Sera walked into the guest room you were staying. She looked over you as she thought of her next words. She was sure you would take the job, but would this be better for you? She didn’t know.

“Adam gave the go ahead of princess morningstar’s hotel.” You looked up from under the covers, interested in what she had to say. “We will need someone to overwatch the hotel. No one wants to go and I thought I would ask you.”

You took a breath, but even that felt caged. You were happy Sera gave you this choice of a job. “I’ll do it. Thank you Sera.”

—

You packed all the necessary things, and waited for the portal to hell to open. When you did walk through the portal you looked up at the red sky. As if the clouds were full of blood.

You extended your wings and started to take off where you could see the ‘Hazbin Hotel’ stand. You didn’t want to walk and risk anything bad. Sure you can hide your wings, but not your halo.

When you landed in front of the door, you admit you did feel nervous. You knocked on the door and a woman who had blonde hair and pink rosy checks opened the door. “Uhhh Vaggie!” Her voice was light but strong. Very admirable it felt like.

“Yes?!” Another stern female voice called out through the hotel. “There’s a angel at out door.” She looked to be panicking, so you smile I hope it’ll ease her nerves. I heard running before I saw her face. “What do you want Extermination isn’t for another month.”

“I suppose I should explain now. Adam.” Fuck saying his name hurt. “Has given the hotel a go ahead. The head seraphim sent me to overlook it.”

(Your pov)

The blonde grew stars in her eyes. She grabbed my wrist and immediately started to pull me throughout the entire hotel. “I have to give you a quick tour for now unfortunately. But my dad’s on the way and when he gets here I’ll give you a better tour with him.” She showed me the bar, and lounge that was pretty much it until there was a knock on the door.

“Okay that’s my dad everyone!” Everybody started to get in formation it seemed like. I leaned over to the deer who started to walk into the entry way. “Who’s that girls name?”

He smiled wide and me. “Why Charlie my good fellow.” Charlie? As in Charlotte. As in Morningstar. AS IN LUCIFER?! Oh my god. Before I could panic the doors opened and a shorter man gave Charlie a hug.

“Oh Charlie it is so good to see you!” He spoke with a smile as he let her go. He smiled at him and showed case the entrance. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Confetti flew and conveniently it got all over me. Great. Charlie looked panicked for a second, but I payed no mind and I snapped my fingers, carefully getting rid of all of it.

Lucifer looked to the cat that was purring and walking through his legs. He bent down and had a baby voice. “Oh hey little Kiki.” Cute. He then looked to the two flying lambs. “Razzle n Dazzle. Aweee look how much you haven’t grown. Still fun size.” Can he be talking?

I turned my attention back to the deer who smiled menacingly towards the king of hell. I walked up to him and Lucifer started to check out the place. I placed my hand out to him and smiled. “My names Y/N.” The deer turned his head away from Lucifer and turned his smile to me, though it was less terrifying. “Alastor! Quite a pleasure darling, quiet a pleasure!” Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a few friends down here?

“I like your voice.”

“Yes, it’s quite perfect for my rad—“

“WHAT IN THE UNHOLY HELL IS THAT?!” I see our king has found the bar. Alastor smile tightened and he teleported through the shadows to where Lucifer was standing. “Just some of the renovations we had done. As a little color don’t you think?”

Lucifer eye brow rise as he asked, “and you are?” I walked over to one of the cookies as Alastor responded. “Alastor, quite a pleasure. You are much shorter than I expected.” I started to choke on the cookie. Bringing attention to me. “I-I’m fine.” I saw Lucifer eyes widen in panic. But he ignored me. For now.

“Is this the bellhop?” He pointed to the deer. “Of course not, I’m the host. You probably heard of me through my radio broadcasts.”

He put his hand to his chin and said “NOPE! I guess that’s why Charlie called in the Hazbin hotel. Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! It was actually my idea.”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Well it’s not very clever.”

“Ha! Ha! Fuck. You.”

This is exactly what I needed. Pure entertainment.

—

As we started to get our hotel tour, Alastor got held up by some cat, and Charlie got distracted with Vaggie. Giving Lucifer the perfect time to talk to me. “Why are you here? Are these people so dense they can’t tell your an angel?”

I raised my brow, I see why Adam said he was a dick. “If you must know, Heaven gave the go ahead to the hotel just today?” Lucifer eyes widened. “What? How?”

“I believe it was your good friend Adam who gave the order.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at me.

“And are you one of his exterminator pet?” Asshole. “No I’m his wife. Well actually I don’t know? Am I still his wife?” I started to go off, talking to myself completely blocking out Lucifer. A habit I’ve always had.

“Adam re-married?” Now I seemed to have a bit more of his interest. “Why do you care? Trying to go 3 for 3?” I said sarcastically.

“Would you like me too?” We both stopped walking. My eyes widened and when I slowly turned to look at him I noticed his did as well. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean that! Well like not in a like ‘that would never happen way’ but more like ‘it came naturally and unintentionally way.’ And fuck I should stop talking now shouldn’t I—?”

“Yes.” I could feel blood rising to my cheeks, giving me a golden glow. His eyes narrowed to my golden hue cheeks and for a moment I swear his eye had a sparkle, even just a second.

“You bleed gold.” He spoke after a long silence.

“I do.” I am an angel.

“I did too, look at that, we have something in common!” I raised my brow, it was the same tactic he gave his daughter.

“Like how you and your daughter both like girls?” Now it was my turn to see his golden hues.

—

Lucifer had decided to stay in the hotel to grow closer to Charlie. During the duration of the last three weeks we had also gotten closer. I had explained to him that Adam and I were no longer together even though I still wore our wedding ring.

It had been three weeks since I had been in heaven. Three weeks since I entered this hotel. I hadn’t thought too much about Adam in my stay here. Though it appeared today was the day I broke tradition.

Me and Adam had spent years on years on years together. I missed his golden eyes, and I missed his stupid humor, and I had missed him. That made his betrayal all the worse. Every-time I missed him, the memory of him and Lilith came. It wasn’t fair to me. Why was I tormented because I was a faithful wife?

I suppose my saddening thought were clear on my face. “What’s wrong?” Lucifer asked, sitting on the bed next to me. We were in his room, he was making ducks while I became self-depressed. “It’s a long story.” He smiled in understanding, “good thing I have an eternity with nothing better to do.”

“You know me and Adam are no longer together.” He nodded his head at the un-new information. “But you don’t know why.” I cleared my throat and began to tell him. “Adam had cheated on me with Lilith for seven years. And he talks about how sinners could never come to heaven, and yet he let her through the gates himself.” I rushed out the words, but as Lucifer’s eyes widened I knew he heard me.

“Lil-Lilith is in heaven?” His voice broke. “Didn’t you know?” The whole reason I never mentioned her was because I had thought he knew all this time.

He shook his head as tears began to form in his eyes. He loved Lilith and he still does. I didn’t doubt for a second he needed comfort.

I wrapped my hand around him and brung him in for a hug. He clung to me and cried. The only word he spoke was ‘why?’. The same question I had asked since the minute I found out.

“DAD?!” Charlie knocked on the door frantically. We immediately situated ourselves and when he opened the door, we look good as usual. “Yes, Charlie?”

She was panting but her words came out clear as day. “The extermination is still on, and it’s happening next week!”

What the actual fuck?!

—

We got a meeting set up with Heavens high court the next day. I was surprised they allowed Lucifer through the gates as well. The only rule was people of heaven couldn’t know it was him, so he couldn’t go introducing himself as, ‘hi I’m Lucifer, ruler of hell. Your are?’

We walked behind Vaggie and Charlie as Emily and Saint Peter showed everyone around heaven.

Lucifer looked around all the building and shined a big bright smile my way. It was nice to see that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was so rare too. I was to busy talking with Lucifer I hadn’t even noticed we passed Adam and Lute.

(Third POV)

Adam spat out his drink as he saw Y/N and Lucifer walking smiling at each other. The fuck was HIS wife doing walking that fucking duck-Imp face?

“What the fuck is he doing here?” He asked Lute as if she had all the answers. “I don’t know what they’re doing here sir.”

“It doesn’t even matter, I’m fucking ending this shit now. No way is he getting her.” Adam went to go after them but Lute grabbed ahold of him. “Do you want a fight between first man and the devil in the middle of heaven?!” Adam didn’t even need to think about it the answer was yes.

“Better than waiting for the fucking extermination.” Lute was quick to sush Adam. “What was the extermination one rule?” Adam grounded out like a child. “No one but the exterminators can know about it.” He took a long sip of his drink before speaking up again. “Don’t fucking sush me bitch.”

A light formed behind him, revealing Sera. “You should listen to her more often Adam, maybe then you’d still have your wife.” Sera didn’t know the details only that Adam cheated and Lute tried to stop him. “Fuck Sera you can’t sneak up on a guy like that. Also don’t bring her into this.”

Sera rolled her eyes. “Lucifer set up a meeting for his misguided daughter. I want you to put an end to her silly beliefs.”

Adam shook his head to the taller angel. “No can do, I don’t want Y/N mad at me for the rest of eternity.” Sera glared down at the first man. “You’ll do this unless you want Y/N banished. With Lucifer.”

Rage came across Adam eyes at Sera’s threat, but his mask did a good job in hiding it. “I’ll handle it.” His voice was so cold, even Sera got nervous. She obviously didn’t mean she would actually banish Y/N but it was one of the only ways to get Adam to do his work.

— (Y/N pov) —

I laid on the bed as me and Lucifer walked in our shared room. We had gotten to rooms in the hotel. One for Charlie and Vaggie. The other for me and Lucifer. We wouldn’t be staying the night, so it wasn’t like we were sleeping in the same bed.

“She’s here, Y/N.” Lucifer voice filled the silence. “What should I do?” His voice was soft and his expression was delicate.

“You should go see her.” I may not like the woman but he still does love her. “If you don’t you may regret it.” His eyes drifted away from me and to the window. “Everything is so much different now. I wouldn’t even know where to look.” I couldn’t help him. I didn’t know where she lived. The only reason I knew Adam was with her was because of Lute. Though I swore I wouldn’t sell her out.

“Do you miss it here?” Dumb question, but a reasonable one to ask. “Yeah. I miss seeing the good.” I turned his head to me and looked into his beautiful crimson eyes. “You see it everyday in the mirror.”

I don’t know who leaned in first. I don’t know who kissed who first but I knew we were kissing. And I knew I liked it.

A knock pulled us away from each other I hurried to open the door, thinking Charlie needed something. But my suspicions were wrong as Adam walked past me and into the room. He looked to me and even with his mask on I could see the fury in his eyes. He turned to Lucifer and that when I saw it. My lipstick had smudge on his lips. My eyes widened as Lucifer stood up. Adam gave him one more glance, and I for sure thought he was going to try and kill him, but he didn’t. Instead he gave him a little paper as he turned his body to me and kept his eyes on me the whole time he spoke.

“That’s the address you’ll find Lilith.” Lucifer was about to speak up but Adam cut him off. His voice still calm as ever, but I knew the wrath behind his voice. “You don’t have long until court. I suggest you get a move on while I have a talk with my own wife.”

Lucifer looked to me and I nodded my head. He needed to see Lilith, to at least get closure. He gave one last glance to Adam and walked out the door.

“What do you want?” My voice was shaky even though I tried to harden it. “What do I want?” His voice still calm as he started to walk to me. “I want you back home. I want you back in my bed when I wake up. I want you at my concerts cheering me on again. I want your smile. I want every part of you.” He backed me into the wall and put his hands on my cheek. “And trust me my love. I will have what I want.” I closed my eyes as he rested his head against mine.

“Why are you here. I said I needed time and space.” My voice still in a whisper.

“I gave you six moths, and as for space, you want to hell. Not sure you can get farther than that.” He did have a point, but I still didn’t know how I felt anymore. “I came to tell you, that Sera wants me to end this hotel. At any cost.” The one thing I asked for is what he’s about to end.

“And you’ll just do it no questions asked? Of course.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I tried to move my head out of his hands but they tightened.

“Yes. No questions asked, because it’s your banishment on the line. I will face god himself for you. I would do anything to keep you happy and safe, so if I have to make you hate me while doing so? So be it.” He says sternly making sure to look in my eyes. Good talk for someone who cheated.

“You cheated. You don’t get to act like you care now.” I pushed him away and started to walk to the window looking out it, rather than him. “I do care. More than anything.”

“And while I’ve been away? How many vista have you given Lilith? Or any other girl for that matter?” He couldn’t go one day without getting his dick wet.

“Unless I went to the office, I’ve been at home. Ask Sera.”

“You cheated. YOU CHEATED! How am I supposed to forgive you for that?” Adam slowly shook his head. “And while you’ve been away, how many visits have you given Lucifer?” He had a right to assume considering my lipstick was still smudged, I’ll admit that.

“He treats me good!” He had became someone I could rely on. “I treat you good. Yes I fucked up. Not a day goes by that I don’t hate myself for it. And even if you do forget and forgive, I’ll still hate myself. I promise you, I feel more disgusted than you ever could.” He grabbed my hand and showed me my wedding ring. “But you see that babe? we promised through lows and highs we’d make it through. Together.”

I felt like crying, he had a point. We vowed to be together no matter what. But he was unfaithful, he broke those vows first. I couldn’t forgive that. Ever.

“We’ll talk again. I promise. I’ll see you in court.” He kisses my hand with my ring finger. “I love you.” And he walked out. Leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts.

Why did I miss Adam already?

How is Lucifer doing with Lilith?

Me and Lucifer kissed.

How will court go?

Can we win the trial?

Fuck what now?

—

HIIIIIIIII! So I will say that the first time writing this it got deleted. Sooo I’m sorry if it feels a little rushed. I had also gotten another request so I may come out with that one before the next and final part, or I may not. I really hope you enjoyed this part as I had a lot of fun writing it.

- kelp 💛

Taglist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #masterlist #adam hazbin hotel #adam is actually hilarious #adam x reader #x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer x reader

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just-jordie-things · 3 months

Text

the blackest day - fushiguro megumi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 12.2k warnings: shibuya + light culling game arc spoilers but not very canon compliant lmfao. suggested major character death, heavy themes of depression (not reader) including: not eating, insomnia, feelings of worthlessness + suicidal ideation. mentions of needles, stitches, + blood. heavy angst with a happy ending. summary: megumi tried to tell her not to go to that station. all he can do now is think that he should've tried harder. more info: rivals/friends to lovers, lots of hurt/some comfort, megumi has reached ultimate functioning angst in this ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s not easy for me to talk about // i have heavy heartstrings. and not simple, it’s trigonometry // it’s hard to express // i can’t explain // ever since my baby went away, it’s been the blackest day ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I don’t care that they assigned me to go with Nanami,”

Her voice came out in a huff, irritation getting the better of her, and it was starting to become quite noticeable. Her chest was puffed, her lips were pulled into a snarl that looked completely unnatural on her usually bright features. The hand that wasn’t holding a short sword was curled into a fist so tight it began to tremble.

“Itadori needs my help more” She finished, sounding sure of this change of plan.

Megumi cursed under his breath, this petty argument being the last thing he was in the mood for. There was no time for some ridiculous change in team ups. The pairings had already been decided, and had happened for a reason. With a veil over Shibuya making communication impossible, a change like this was absurd.

“You don’t get to just pick and choose what you want to do, (y/n),” He snapped back at her, before aggressively pointing in the direction of Nanami’s team, where he and Takuma had just taken off.

It hadn’t been until too late that Megumi caught (y/n) hovering away from her group, looking lost under a flickering street lamp as she gazed off in the opposite direction of her team, chewing on her lip as she worried about her other classmate headed for the train station. Had Megumi noticed sooner, he probably wouldn’t be standing here fighting with her right now. He probably could’ve hollered for Nanami or Takuma to circle back and drag her off if they had to. But they were too far gone now to yell after, and his phone was useless.

“These teams were drawn up for a reason,” He muttered. “Now you’ve rendered it useless”

She rolls her eyes at his drama, turning to head off towards the train station, not caring about winning this argument. There were more important things to do right now than stand here and bicker with Megumi. She was getting tired of this repetitive game of his anyways.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He took a large step towards her, making her halt in her tracks before she could get very far.

“I told you,” She snapped back. “I’m going after Yuuji. Something’s not right. I can feel it”

Megumi’s eyes widened and twitched.

“You can’t be serious”

“Does it look like I’m joking?”

Her expression didn’t flinch. He could tell by the hardness in her eyes that she’d set her mind to this new plan of hers, and no matter how stupid it was, he knew deep down she wasn’t going to waver on it.

“You’re not going off on your own,” Megumi scoffs, hoping he could get her to see that she’d be walking right into a trap if she split off by herself. “Do you even know your way there?”

“I think I’m capable of reading street signs, Fushiguro”

Surname. Ouch. He was only succeeding in pissing her off.

“Just- god, just come with me, alright?” He suggests instead, thinking a compromise would sway her. “Going off by yourself right now is reckless and you know it. Come on. If the roles were reversed you wouldn’t let me do this”

Her eyes narrow, and she clenches her jaw.

“I’m not going to stand here and play the ‘what if’ game with you,” She told him. “You’re wasting time. If you cross paths with anyone, tell them I went after Yuuji”

“(y/n)-”

Before he could come up with another argument- or resort to picking her up off the ground and forcing her not to go- she was already turning on her heels and breaking into a full sprint.

Megumi had tried to follow her, but she’d always been faster than him. He called after her until his throat burned raw. Eventually he had to go off with his own team, knowing if he strayed too far then he was putting himself at just as great a risk as she’d been.

But fuck, had he made a mistake in not pushing himself to follow her.

Even if they’d both died trying to get to Yuuji, he thinks it would’ve been better than this.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Megumi wakes up that morning looking like he was in just as terrible of a state as he had the day before. And the day before that. And every day before that for the last six days.

It had been a week since the incident with Shibuya, and with every day that passed and the more ground they covered, Megumi was starting to feel worse.

Yuuta silently offered up an apple he’d found at the last shop they’d raided. Megumi barely glanced at it before shaking his head, going right to work rolling up the sleeping bag that was starting to get worn and dirty. Yuuta frowned, crouching down beside the younger man to talk quietly with him.

“You should eat something,” He suggests calmly. “When was the last time you’ve eaten anything?”

Megumi tries not to appear annoyed. He knows Yuuta is only trying to look out for him, he’d been trying to look out for everyone. Unfortunately since the impact of Shibuya, it was hard to keep everyone in check and healthy.

“Ate last night” Megumi replied.

Yuuta frowned.

“You had a bite of a loaf of bread” He replied knowingly.

Megumi paused in his movements, his sleeping bag rolled up part way, and his eyes caught the beginnings of a hole that he hadn’t noticed before. It must’ve gotten caught on some rubble or debris and torn the nylon. He frowned at the supposed tear-proof material. If it worsened it would be a nuisance, and if he was out of a sleeping bag, well, who knew when or if he’d come across another one.

Pushing that worry off for a later time, he glanced at Yuuta over his shoulder. His face was blank, as it had been for the better part of the last week.

“You don’t need to keep tabs on me,” He said. “I’m fine”

Yuuta held his stare for a long moment, hoping that if he let the lie sit there for long enough, Megumi would realize how empty it sounded.

But he didn’t budge.

So Yuuta sighs, standing and dropping the apple back into a paper bag and rolling it up so it’d tuck neatly in the backpack of supplies they’d been gathering.

“You know eventually, you’ll need to eat something,” He says matter-of-factly. “If we come across something and you don’t have the energy to fight-”

“I said I’m fine”

Despite the harsh words, Megumi’s voice is monotone, and not all that loud. In fact, he’s almost whispering. It only sends a chill of worry through Yuuta’s demeanor. He’d already been stressing over his well being- not to mention Maki’s, and Itadori’s- it was starting to be a weight on his shoulders keeping an eye on everyone.

It wasn’t that he was burdened by his friends or the guilt they bore, but after a certain amount of time, he just didn’t know how to help anymore.

Yuuji was completely unable to separate himself from Sukuna, taking on the destruction of Shibuya and blaming himself for the entire catastrophe. All the death, the chaos, and where they found themselves now, the boy could barely keep it together. Yuuta had only known him for a short amount of time, and even he found his behavior to be unsettling.

Maki had slain her entire bloodline. All but her sister, who had died trying to protect her, trying to make her stronger, so that when she broke free from their twisted clutches, she was able to take down every single one of them. Yuuta had barely approached the subject. No one did, really. Maki had briefly mentioned it when they all grouped together, and since then, it’d been radio silence.

And Megumi… well, Megumi was still beating himself up over (y/n). It didn’t matter what anyone said. It didn’t matter that Yuuji held onto some sliver of hope that she’d made it out of Shibuya before shit really hit the fan. It was as though Megumi had tuned everything out. They practically watched him dim before them, a burnt out bulb that wouldn’t light again no matter how much they prodded and tried.

For now, Yuuta let him be. The gang packed up their supplies from the spot they’d crashed the night before, and without much talk at all began moving again. Here and there they talked about direction, and brainstormed how to get around stealthily, but other than that, it was mostly a quiet journey.

Megumi remained completely silent. One hand on the strap of his sleeping bag over his shoulder, the other shoved in his pocket. Distantly he recognized that his stomach was aching and his mouth was dry, and he was sure he was also in desperate need of a shower, too. But even as the thoughts crossed his mind, they seemed to float away and fade into nothing. Just like everything else that tried to fill the time in his head, it was always replaced by the overwhelming gnaw of grief.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to eat. It wasn’t like there was much food to go around anyways. Wasn’t everyone else much more deserving of a healthier portion? What had he done in comparison to everyone else in this makeshift group of people who were once peers but now that Jujutsu Society had fallen apart… did they even have anything else in common?

Just as the mental downward spiral began, it was washed away once more by the reminder that it didn’t matter anyways. Guilt and loss settled at the forefront of his thoughts again, and he kept his head down as he continued walking.

The ironic part about all of this was that if she had been here, she’d laugh at him and smack him upside the head. Everything matters, dummy, he could almost hear her scolding him, with no bite to her bark, just as always. She always had something dumb to say like that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Stop being so gloomy, ‘gumi!” She’d hollered, followed by a string of laughter as she skipped up to him, turning her back to Nobara and Yuuji, who happily kept walking along to the next shop on their trip.

“Definitely don’t ever call me that again” He muttered back, crinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes in distaste for the nickname. She laughed again, stopping just before him on the sidewalk, just as their friends entered a boutique, leaving them behind.

“Oh yeah?” She places her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow at him, and he wonders if she knows that their friends just abandoned them out here. “Or what?” She asks defiantly.

He’d taken notice that when she was trying to instigate a bickering match, the corner of her lips tilted up in a proud little smirk. She tended to get ahead of herself, always certain that she’d win whatever it was they were doing. From petty arguments on the sidewalk to sparring to missions where she always wanted to compete and one up him. Although after a while he had to admit it could be a little fun to show off on the easier-to-exorcize curses.

“Dork,” He rolls his eyes without a hint of genuine attitude. When she gapes at him in mock offense he raises his hand to flick her forehead. “C’mon, our friends dipped” He starts to head towards the shop Nobara and Yuuji had disappeared into, but she stays put outside.

“Yeah… I sort of let them…” She admits, a small, guilty smile stretching across her lips. Megumi raises his eyebrows at her, smiling back in amusement. Usually whatever those two were up to, (y/n) was following behind like an eager duckling. “What?” She asks innocently. “I just don’t want to spend all day looking at things I won’t buy and then carrying all of Nobara’s shit!” She defends herself.

Megumi laughs, a real laugh, his eyes crinkling at their corners and his shoulders shaking and everything. (y/n’s) almost taken aback by the action, surprised that he looked so… joyful.

“Alright, you’ve got a point. We have an opportunity here, and we should take it while we can” He begins to plot with her, and her smile stretches into a grin as she nods back at him.

“Bookstore and coffee?” She suggests quietly, as if it was more outlandish of an idea than it really was.

Megumi nods affirmatively, tucking his hands in his pockets before turning in the opposite direction, (y/n) following him right away so they could make it there before their friends noticed their departure.

She still pushed his buttons as they made their way to their destination down the street, but he couldn’t help but feel a blossom of warmth in his chest that for once he was the one getting her to tag alongside him. He would never admit it, opting to poke back at her the rest of the day like nothing had changed, but it had felt… good.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The day that annoying chirping flyhead had announced a culling game, Megumi felt a glimmer of hope spark inside of him that he barely recognized. It had only been nine or so days since the incident, but it seemed like ages since he’d felt optimistic about something- anything.

But as the flyhead spouted off the rules to the games, he’d hoped that a lineup would be included. Surely with so many sorcerers pitted against each other, there must be some condition of having all of the participants and their points on display, right?

The others recognized a change in him then, an eagerness, an impatience as he barely took in what the flyhead was announcing, only waiting to hear what he wanted.

Announce the players’ names, he silently pleaded with the damn thing. Say her name, tell me she’s a participant, tell me she’s alive.

But the rules concluded, the flyhead seemingly disappeared, and Megumi felt like a fucking idiot.

Yuuji and Yuuta shared a look, and the pink haired boy turned to give his friend an apologetic expression. He opened his mouth to say something, but Megumi tightened his hold on the strap of his sleeping bag and kept walking before he could say anything.

He didn’t want to hear any bullshit about maybes or what ifs. He just wanted to get to the next safe place by nightfall so he could lay awake on his sleeping bag for eight hours, and then repeat this whole cycle again tomorrow.

His ever so present grief and his growing hunger was starting to blend into a concoction that made him more stand-offish than usual. The others had almost cracked, barely acknowledging him at this point, simply not knowing how. Yuuji still tried, of course. Forcing a water bottle in his face, or a piece of food that hadn’t gone totally bad. He’d maybe had a few bites here or there in the last few days, not nearly enough to keep up his energy, but somehow he pushed through anyways.

Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t finding some hidden source of energy, he wasn’t persevering, and he certainly wasn’t living because he had to. If he was being honest, he’d been wondering why his body hadn’t given out on him yet. Nothing felt good anymore. If it wasn’t numb, it ached, and neither one of those options was more of a relief than the other.

He wasn’t pushing through the unmovable force of his grief. (y/n)... Nobara… Gojo… Nanami… He wasn’t staying strong in their memory, and if anything, he wished his body would just give up already so he wasn’t such a burden to those around him. Megumi spent most of his time in his own head, but he wasn’t completely oblivious. He saw the way the others talked about him with only their eyes. Short, worried glances exchanged on his behalf, each of them trying to silently convince the others to do something first, no one wanting to be the one to address it.

Tonight when he rolls out his holey sleeping bag and lays back on it, he stares at the starless sky and pleads with it. He begs the rolling clouds and inky black night to let him close his eyes, just this once, so that he won’t have to open them again.

He can’t possibly spend another long night wide awake, thinking about his hunger, thinking about her, no matter how hard he tries to shove it all deep, deep down and ignore it.

As exhausted as he is physically, sleep never takes over his body.

A tear rolls out of the corner of his eye, trekking slowly down his cheekbone. It lingers at his jaw, fat and wobbly as he clenches his teeth together as hard as he can stand it, desperate to make this tear the last.

It falls with a near silent splat against the nylon material he lays on.

The following little splats come in quick succession, seemingly a little louder as they fall one after the other. Megumi chokes down the sobs to be sure no one else could catch wind of his breakdown.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

She momentarily glances up at him when he enters the room, only to scowl and turn away as soon as she recognizes it’s him. Megumi fights the urge to roll his eyes, sliding the infirmary door shut and tucking his hands into his pockets as he approaches her.

“I’m not talking to you,”

Despite her sharp glare, he laughs at the ironic statement.

“I mean it. I’m still mad at you,” She spits out, turning back to where she was stitching up the gash in her upper arm.

It was a nasty thing to look at, and probably worse to patch up on her own, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten back from an assignment too late to request Shoko’s help- and reverse cursed technique.

“Seriously,” There’s more of a bite to her tone when she plunges the needle through the narrow end of the wound. “Just go”

She’s hissing and clenching her jaw before pulling the needle through and doing it again, trying to keep her stitches even. It wasn’t the easiest task with her non-dominant hand, but she didn’t want to show an ounce of struggle.

“You sure talk a lot for not talking to me” Megumi hums, still coming closer, despite her warnings.

He earns himself another glare, but he ignores it, stepping up to where she’s sat on the edge of one of the paper-covered cots. She flinches as though to lean away from him, and he raises a brow at her.

“You want sloppy stitches?” He asks pointedly, voice hushed and lacking any emotion. “Fine by me, have it heal weird if that’s what you want”

He starts to step away, and (y/n) huffs. Her eyes shut and her shoulders slump, and he takes her nonverbal defeat as his cue to pluck the needle from her hand and get to work. She wouldn’t say so out loud, but she knew his hand was steadier than hers anyways.

He works quickly and diligently. His free hand placed gently around her arm to make sure it stays still as he stitches up the gnarly cut. She tries not to react to how cold it is to the touch, but her muscles flinch when he first makes contact.

“Sorry” He mumbles without much thought, going for the fourth stitch.

“For what, exactly?” (y/n) mutters back with a furrow in her brow. “For your freakishly cold hands? Or for letting me take this hit back there?”

Megumi doesn’t respond right away, opting to keep his focus on his needlework. This only annoys her further, and he can practically feel it radiating off of her. He knew it was a matter of seconds before she blew up at him, she was probably just thinking through what she wanted to say when she screamed his head off. He could tell her to shut up and stop acting so childish, but he doesn’t.

And he’s not totally sure why. If this was Yuuji or Nobara in her place, he’d be telling them exactly where they’d gone wrong on that assignment, and to top it off walk them through how they needed to shape up before they took another one.

But it’s not Yuuji or Nobara. It’s (y/n). And his mouth stays shut.

Truth was she wasn’t necessarily wrong. He had technically let her take this hit from a Grade Two curse with a horrific set of claws. But had he not sent her that way, then she would’ve wanted to tag team the Grade One with him. And this particular Grade One had a gore streak in the deaths it had caused around Tokyo. And on that fact alone, he took it on himself, and ordered (y/n) to take on the Grade Two.

“I mean seriously what the fuck was that? You think you get to boss me around just ‘cause you’ve been doing this a little longer?”

And here she goes. He braces himself mentally for whatever she was about to throw at him.

“Or is it something else? Hm? You needed the ego boost? Needed to feel like some kind of big strong man, Megumi?” Her eyes narrow at him but he doesn’t cast her a single glance. His focus remains on the steady movements of stitching her up. “Did it feel good to play hero? Did you feel good exorcizing that Grade One and laughing when I let a measly little Grade Two take me down-?”

“I wasn’t laughing”

His voice is quieter than hers, and significantly calmer, but it still manages to shut her up. For a moment, her expression is blank while she still stares at him, and he still keeps his eyes on his task.

A lump forms in her throat, suddenly making it very hard to insult him. It remains silent between them as Megumi finishes up the last stitch, finishing it off perfectly and dropping the bloody needle on the tray beside the cot. The metallic thunk echos shortly, and then finally, he turns his attention towards her.

To his surprise, her eyes looked wet. She couldn’t possibly be holding back tears. Surely the stitches hurt, she wasn’t invincible, but she was strong, and never showed weakness. Even when that curse had grabbed her by the arm and he feared it was going to rip it clean off her body, she hadn’t cried. Screamed and swore, sure, but not a tear was shed the whole way back to campus.

“Think what you will,” He tells her, eyes flickering between hers curiously, wondering what it was that would make her tear up now. “But I’m not so callous that I would take amusement in your pain,”

She tries to swallow the lump in her throat, but it only burns more, and she hopes that he can’t see the emotion on her face, she hopes that she’s expressionless, cold, even.

“In fact, when I sent you after that curse, it was for the opposite reason. I was trying to do you a favor”

“A favor?” She repeats, intending to snap the words back at him, but her voice is strained by her burning throat, and instead she almost sounds… lost. Megumi can’t quite put his finger on it.

He nods his head once in a short motion.

“Sorry you got hurt,” He says, and he means it, but his tone still lacks any sort of emotion. He plans to keep it that way. “Just didn’t want to see you get ripped to shreds by a Grade One”

He doesn’t say anything else, and he doesn’t give her the chance to reply, or even fully react to that statement. Instead he turns around and walks right back out of the infirmary, not so much of a nod in parting as he shuts the door behind him and leaves her completely alone.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Megumi had found Yuuji after the incident in Shibuya, he’d ran to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, asking if he was alright and hugging him shortly out of the pure relief that someone was there, someone lived. Even though Yuuji was in rough shape physically and mentally after everything, he was a person that Megumi could see and touch, and relief flooded through him like pure ecstasy.

“Nobara?” He’d asked, unable to finish the rest of the question. He didn’t have to for Yuuji to understand.

Yuuji didn’t have to answer aloud for Megumi to understand. His glossy eyes turned away, desperate for something else to catch his attention before he thought too hard about the fate their friend befell.

Megumi frowned, his throat going dry as he swallowed harshly.

He didn’t want to ask anymore questions. He wanted to relish the lone fact that Yuuji, his best friend, was alive and standing in front of him. He not only lived through the catastrophe but they’d reunited. He wished he could hold onto that joy for just a moment longer. But he couldn’t help himself from asking another burning question in his mind.

“A-and (y/n)?” He stammered out uncharacteristically. His panic was evident in his wide eyes and tightening grip on Yuuji’s shoulders. The pink haired boy looked back at him in alarm. “She- she left Nanami’s team to come find you, did she?” He explained the situation poorly, not wanting to waste time talking if Yuuji had an answer for him.

He doesn’t respond right away.

“Did she find you?” He asks again, his voice quieter as his features begin to fall.

His heart hammered in his chest in a way he’d never felt before. A deep rooted fear he can’t recall ever having before, even as a toddler and fearing a monster under the bed didn’t hold up against the icy hot pins forcing their way through his bloodstream now. His face felt hot as it went pale. The back of his neck felt sweaty as a cool breeze hit it. He was sure he was about to have a seizure, the panic was all too much. The longer Yuuji didn’t give him an outright response, the worse the taste of bile in Megumi’s throat became.

“I did see her,” Yuuji finally mumbles out, dropping his eyes to his hands, which he held palms up and trembling before him. “After Choso- the people that…” Yuuji coughs, the need to vomit suddenly pushing through his mind and throat. “She was trying to exorcize them all,”

He was struggling to explain what he recalled seeing that night. It was all too brutal, and his mind was trying to push the trauma into a dark corner where he couldn’t think about it if he tried. But this was important. Megumi needed to know.

“She… she was crying,” Yuuji looked up at Megumi again, who furrowed his brows and shook his head. “She knew they were still people deep down, like… Junpei”

Megumi’s head shaking grew more rapid as he processed this all too slowly for his liking.

“And then?” He asked. “And then what? Where’d she go? You got split up?” Question after question tumbled out of his mouth so quick his words began to slur together.

Yuuji wanted to cry just seeing him so worried sick, much less actually remember what happened.

“I… I didn’t see,” The pink haired boy admitted quietly, shame bringing his eyes downcast again. “I’m sorry, Megumi. W- we got separated. But there… there were so many of them…”

Megumi had stepped away, his hands falling from Yuuji’s shoulders, hanging heavy at his sides as he took a larger step back.

“I tried to find her,” Yuuji’s voice cracked as he hoped to explain himself. “Really I- I didn’t want to abandon her, I didn’t want to leave her there, not after everything she did to get to me- she- fuck- she probably saved my life showing up when she did!”

He could register that Yuuji was still speaking, but Megumi could hardly make all of it out. His vision was clouding over, and his entire body felt weak, as though he could collapse at any point. He hadn’t even realized he was heaving until Yuuji, Maki, and Yuuta were crowded around him and helping him slowly down to the ground to calm him down.

He’d never had a panic attack before.

Finding out that (y/l/n) (y/n) had likely died along with countless others in Shibuya struck the first of several panic induced attacks. Most of which he managed to keep hidden from the others, but some hit so hard and so suddenly that it was near impossible to work through it in private.

He’d been replaying Yuuji’s account of that night over and over in his head for days now, trying to find some sort of hope that she could’ve gotten out of that train station before all hell broke loose. But with a hazy recollection and no other witnesses, it was hard to pretend that she made it out alive.

At first he’d spent time looking for signs of her as they traveled. Any remains of camps he was sifting through, hoping to find that familiar necklace she always wore, or the shortsword she’d carried that night, something- anything that could point to a sign of her still being out there somewhere.

But now he barely lifted his head as he followed the group blindly, kicking at loose rubble and keeping a tight hold on his unraveling sleeping bag that was almost at the end of it’s lifespan. There would be no use in holding onto a tattered rag of nylon.

There wasn’t a chance he’d ever see her again. His denial was beginning to fade, reality giving him a cold slap to the face to wake him up. It was harsh. It left him rough around the edges, literally and figuratively. His facial features were sharper, and devoid of color. His muscles were sore, only growing more so the longer he put off eating a proper meal. If he kept this up he knew there would only be a few more sleepless nights until he didn’t stand back up in the morning.

And still, when he was offered a piece of food, he took a mere few bites before excusing himself to go lay on his ruined sleeping bag and stare at the sky.

He cursed it when it was empty and dull. He cursed it when it was full of twinkling stars and a bright moon. It was never quite right.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y’know any constellations?”

Megumi startled upon hearing her tired voice creep up behind him. When he turned to see her shuffling out of the doors in her bare feet and ducky-print pajama shorts and matching tee, he could almost laugh. She was yawning, her eyes shut as she rubbed at them with the ball of her fist. She looked like a child.

“It’s late” He muttered when she waddled up next to him sleepily.

“No shit,” She grumbles back with a roll of her eyes. “So? Y’know any constellations or not?”

Megumi wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing out here. Had she heard him sneak out of his room to step out for fresh air? He’d left fifteen or so minutes ago. If he’d woken her up, surely she would’ve followed him out here sooner than now.

Not to mention, she’d barely spoken to him since their last assignment together, and their sort-of argument in the infirmary. The few times she had addressed him had only been out of courtesy to their present friends. But even then, her eyes never quite met his, and her words were short.

“Actually, yeah,” Megumi hums thoughtfully. “Tsumiki loved ‘em. She used to show me when I was little”

(y/n) nods, wrapping her arms around herself after realizing she wouldn’t relieve the ache in her eyes if she kept irritating them. She lets out a soft sigh as she stands beside him, tilting her head back to glance across the sky. She wasn’t sure of the last time she’d appreciated the stars. It must have been when she was still a child.

Megumi clears his throat uncomfortably, before raising his hand to trace a pattern in the sky.

“Obviously that’s the Orion’s belt,” He says, before mapping out the rest of the hunter’s shape. “The rest of Orion,” He mumbles, and he’s surprised when he glances down to see (y/n) carefully following his hand. He wonders if she can see it the way he does, like the picture in the Astronomy book Tsumiki used to haul around. Curious to see how interested she really was, he continued on to another constellation. “That’s Ursa Major,” He says, tracing the shape out slowly to give her time to adjust to the image. “And, uh, Ursa Minor is… there” He does the same for both bears.

(y/n) hums curiously, a small smile tugging at her lips in amusement. She never would have guessed that Astronomy of all things was one of Megumi’s interests.

“Do you know what your star sign is?” He asks, dropping his hand and glancing down at her. She raises a brow at him in surprise, slowly delivering her answer, half expecting him to come up short and sheepishly admit he didn’t know where that one was.

But he surprises her again, eyes darting around the sky for a matter of seconds before finding it in seconds and dragging his fingers along the main stars of her constellation with a great amount of ease.

“Alright, that’s pretty cool,” She finally confesses, shyly glancing up at him. “You’re a pretty good brother for learning all of this” She tells him.

His attention is brought back down to her as soon as she says it, finding a soft smile on her face and a look in her eyes that he can’t quite decipher. He thinks it’s akin to worry, perhaps empathy. His eyes flicker between hers a few times as he tries to pinpoint exactly what it is. She doesn’t shy away from his long silence accompanied by the eye contact that made her feel like she was an artifact under glass.

It’s quiet for a while, until eventually Megumi looks back up at the sky again. She wonders what brought him out here to begin with, but she doesn’t ask. Instead, she clasps her hands together behind her back and admires the stars with him.

“What else can you show me?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

If it had been up to him, Megumi would’ve rather stayed behind at Jujutsu Tech to guard Tengen. Maybe if he’d sat alone in the warping hallways of the school he could pass out from the mindfuckery of it all. Then maybe, once Kenjaku arrived…

It doesn’t matter now. Yuki and Choso had already decided they’d be the ones to stand guard. He and Yuuji were already on their way to find Hakari, and there was no point in changing plans now. Besides, he didn’t want to burden Yuuji any further than he was sure he already had.

“So, you’ve met this guy?”

Yuuji’s the first to speak, and Megumi doesn’t exactly have an answer. He shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head side to side with a blank expression.

“Sort of. I guess”

Yuuji waits for further explanation, but after a few beats of silence, he realizes that Megumi isn’t going to explain what that means.

“Okay… well, do you think we can convince him to help us?”

“Don’t know” Megumi replies.

Yuuji frowns, and turns his gaze forward, fixing it straight ahead before slowly exhaling through his nose to ease his nerves.

Megumi glances at him out of his peripheral vision, and seeing his clear disappointment in his features, huffs out a breath and tries to explain himself.

“I met him for, like, a minute. One time. Before I was even enrolled at Jujutsu Tech,” He said.

Yuuji turned towards his friend with a grin, eager to hear him opening up, or at least, trying to. For once he keeps his mouth shut in the hopes that Megumi continues to talk.

“Gojo introduced me,” He went on. “And I really don’t know if he’ll help us. He’s a bit… eccentric” He mutters the last part with distaste.

“Like Gojo?” Yuuji chuckles, and Megumi tilts his head from shoulder to shoulder once more.

“If Gojo had a gambling addiction so twisted it got him kicked out of school, then… maybe”

Yuuji’s eyes widened, and he snapped his mouth shut before he could ask any other questions. Megumi’s patience may have been thin- and perhaps nonexistent at this point- but he had a feeling that he should let his friend save up some energy for his social battery. If Hakari is anything like Gojo, then he’d certainly need it.

When they stop to rest it’s not for long. Yuuji gets Megumi to eat a bit more than usual, though not by much, he takes it as a good sign. They rest just long enough to soothe the ache in their feet, but as soon as they’re moving again, the pain returns. Neither one of them complained.

THe sun was just starting to set when they finally reached their destination. Megumi stopped them both just on the perimeter of the territory. An unsettling feeling spiking in his chest had his instincts telling him not to step any closer without a plan.

Silently, he glances over to Yuuji, who’s already surveying the area. He must have felt it, too.

“Cursed energy?” Yuuji mumbles, his brows furrowed as he meets Megumi’s hard stare.

The dark haired boy nods his head once in confirmation.

“Yeah,” He hums back. “And a lot of it”

It was impossible to ignore. Cursed energy in great quantities had a natural buzz, like static electricity in the air. This wasn’t that at all. If Megumi closed his eyes and focused on it, he was sure he could feel the ground below him vibrating with thick waves of energy.

One thing was for sure, they were in the right place. But whatever it was that was happening here put him on edge.

“Keep your guard up,” He muttered, stepping past the brush they’d been hiding behind and heading towards the building. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Yuuji was following. “And your expectations low” He adds upon seeing the grin on his friend’s face.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Arms up, Megumi!”

Despite her offensive stance and the glow of cursed energy around her fists, (y/n’s) voice was full of pure delight. Sometimes when Megumi would spar with her, he would be reminded of Maki. He never understood why she never sought her out instead, surely the older sorcerer was a better match for her twisted delight with training. Nonetheless, here he was on a Saturday, rolling his eyes as he raised his hands to keep his face behind his arms so that when she hit him she didn’t break anything.

(y/n) spoke as if she could read his thoughts.

“Skipping out on training doesn’t get you to Grade One, y’know,” She told him as they started circling. “And if Yuuji can’t teach me Black Flash, I’ll have to learn it myself!”

“Did you even ask Nanami?” Megumi grumbles, already knowing her answer.

She wasn’t one to ask for help. Only ever requesting a training partner- or victim, as Nobara had once affectionately put it.

She didn’t give him an answer anyways, throwing a fist towards his exposed stomach, trying to apply her cursed energy at the last possible moment. She not only didn’t succeed in using Black Flash, but she missed hitting him too, as he dodged with a graceful sidestep.

“If you’re so scared, why’d you say yes?” (y/n) asked, gearing up to find a weaker spot on him to aim for.

He doesn’t want to answer that, but she clearly isn’t going to make her attack until he gives her something, so he huffs.

“No one else would wake up at this hour on a weekend” He says lamely. It feels like a lie when he says it, even though Megumi knows it’s the truth.

It was seven in the morning, after all. Yuuji and Nobara likely wouldn��t be awake for a few more hours. If (y/n) needed a partner to train, her options were severely limited.

“Guess you’re right” She shrugs.

In the same motion she throws another punch at him, this time her cursed energy crackling in her hand, giving her some hope. But even though she landed a hit on his shoulder, it was still unsuccessful.

She groans loudly, to which Megumi scowls, seeing as he was the one that just got punched. He rolls his shoulder to work out the ache before taking his defensive stance again, waiting for her to try again.

“You’re not in the right mindset” He points out.

She raises a brow at him.

“You wanna chase me around a bit?” She suggests, only half jokingly. Megumi snorts, but stops himself before he could actually laugh at the idea.

“No,” He shakes his head. “You should try something else”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” He huffs, annoyed for trying to walk her through a technique he’d never even used. Still, he finds himself brainstorming another approach. “Try psyching out,” He suggests, nodding his head as he thinks it through. “It’d be more effective that way anyways. If you’re using hand-to-hand with an opponent but don’t lead with it, you’ve got the element of surprise on your side, too,”

(y/n) nods along with him, finding the advice to be surprisingly solid.

“So if you let them underestimate you, then catch them off guard, you’d probably be good as gold” He finished.

She beams at him as she raises her fists again, ready to take his advice out on him right away.

“Just remember you suggested it when I take you to the infirmary later” She teases.

Megumi smirks, widening his stance and raising his arms to protect his face again.

“You’ll still have to figure out the technique” He reminds, but the coy look on his face suggests that he had no doubt in his mind that she could master it in no time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The inside of the building was so loud and rambunctious, it was downright overstimulating. Megumi fought the urge to cover his ears as soon as they entered the premises. Crowds of people swarmed multiple levels- he counted about six before getting distracted by all the pushing and shoving- and it was no secret what it was they were wildly rooting for.

“A fighting ring, huh?” Yuuji grinned, not out of delight for the sport, but surprise for the timing of a setting like this. Did these people even know about the games?

“Great,” Megumi clicked his tongue bitterly as he surveyed the crowds with a furrow in his brow. “Should’ve expected he’d pull some shit like this” He muttered too low for Yuuji to make out what he was grumbling about.

The squared ring where the current match was taking place wasn’t too far from where Yuuji and Megumi found themselves, but with all of the people in the way it made it difficult for them to see who was winning. Too many arms in the air with money in their fists blocked the fight. But it seemed whoever was up there was getting thrown around like a ragdoll. The sound of a body rapidly being smacked against the rough mat or against the chains surrounding the ring were heard in quick succession.

However despite the sound of someone being brutalized, the match continued. Neither of them have caught a glimpse of either combatant, but they knew it must’ve been an impressive lineup as it had been a few minutes of this now.

“Is this even legal?” Yuuji asked. Megumi scoffed, although he wasn’t trying to deliver a rude response.

“Not even a little bit” He mutters back with a shake of his head.

Wordlessly, they decide they’re going to push through the horde of chanting people to get a better look at what was going on. They pause in their shoving when a booming voice erupts from an intercom, the screech of an excited announcer sounding throughout the building and echoing across the concrete infrastructure.

“Place your final bets now!” He drawled every word out for dramatic effect. “Will our resident Panda live to see another day?”

Yuuji and Megumi locked eyes instantly, and without having to say a thing, began pushing and shoving forward again. The sea of people cast them dirty looks and occasionally pushed back to scold them for their rude behavior, but they paid it no mind.

There could only be one Panda in that ring, right?

Sure enough when they got closer to the square, they could see the wide, furry expanse of a panda- The Panda’s- back. His shoulders were trembling, not from pain or fear, but from the rambunctious laughter he let out. He raised his paws, tilting his head back as his howl boomed.

Yuuji’s face brightened excitedly upon seeing their old friend. Megumi couldn’t help but feel some relief as well. Neither of them had considered the possibility of scattered sorcerers they knew being here.

They were close enough now that when Panda spoke, they could make out what he was saying. The crowd around them was too busy screaming and chanting threatening cheers to care about what the fighters in the ring were saying to one another, but Yuuji and Megumi did their best to listen in.

“Just try not to knock me out this time!” Panda said through his laughter.

Was he throwing the fight? Megumi didn’t quite understand the context to this statement.

“Last time they didn’t bother to move me off the ring, I slept here all night!” Panda continued, his laughing ceasing as he took on an irritated tone. “Ruined my back!”

His opponent only laughed. Something feminine and twisted, but undoubtedly genuine.

Megumi’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He recognized that sound.

When Panda’s body was knocked back into the chains of the ring from a swift but heavy kick to the chest, his opponent was finally made visible.

A girl. Not that girls couldn’t fight, but this particular girl had a cutthroat attitude when it came to fistfighting a bear. It seemed every swing of her arms as she landed hit after hit on him grew faster in speed. Half of her face was covered with a black mask, but the bloodied grin on her face was that of someone who believed they couldn’t possibly lose, no matter what beast of an opponent they might face.

Recognition flashed in Megumi’s face, making him go pale as he watched her strike two blows to Panda’s jaw so quickly it had to have given him whiplash, sending his furry head back and forth with such great force.

If Panda was throwing the fight, it didn’t really look like it. He blocked a hit here and there with his massive paws, but she always seemed to move quicker to outsmart him. Ducking and weaving around him with graceful feet and agile movements to keep herself from getting caught by him again. Clearly she’d learned a lesson when he’d been throwing her around earlier.

When Panda did try to land a hit on her again, she grabbed his large wrist in one hand, still grinning as she used the momentum of his swing to swing herself forward and kick her feet into his chest.

The first from the right foot, directly against his ribcage, knocking all wind out of him.

The crowd began to go wild, anticipating something Megumi hadn’t caught onto yet.

The second from the left foot, kicking lower against his stomach, making him curl over and heave.

But before he could catch his breath or clutch his stomach, she struck with her right foot again.

The third and final blow came with a shock of blue energy, an abundant amount of cursed energy striking him in the chest so hard it sent him a few feet backwards, crashing into the chains and crumpling to the mat in a heap of black and white.

It was undoubtedly Black Flash.

She didn’t taunt him as the referee began his countdown before calling a knock out and declaring her a winner. She didn’t strut around or try to rile up her fans in the crowd. Not that she needed to, the people around Megumi and Yuuji were clawing at their own faces in astonishment from watching her take her opponent down with ease and showmanship.

And when the match was officially over and the announcer was hyping the crowd up for the next fight over the intercom, she slid out of the ring and left the area without so much as a wave. It took a few minutes for Panda to get up, but eventually he was sauntering his way out of the ring too, waving to the few people who were his diehard fans and didn’t take his defeat tonight as anything more than some bad luck.

“Come on” Megumi beckoned Yuuji to follow him, his feet already moving as fast as they could take him through the mob, struggling to follow the exact direction that Panda and his opponent before him had gone.

Yuuji kept up fairly well, but Megumi wouldn’t have noticed. He was driven forward by absolute panic, his heart racing in his chest with a feeling he’d thought he’d relinquished days ago when he’d tried to stop living in denial.

But he couldn’t get the image of that girl out of his mind. She was so… he couldn’t get his hopes up. Her laugh was so familiar he couldn’t have possibly mistaken it for someone else's… he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

“Yo! Panda!”

Eventually the crowd thinned out enough that Yuuji tried using the power of his loud holler to get their friend’s attention. Panda perked up immediately, spinning around and searching the crowd for the familiar voice. It didn’t take long for his eyes to land on the waving boy with the unmistakable head of pink hair. He grinned, and his ears twitched a bit as he turned completely and began to make his way towards the pair.

“Itadori!” He beams wider as he reaches them, as if they could have turned out to be figments of his imagination. “Fushiguro!”

He hugs them both at once before either could protest.

“I can’t believe you’re here! Did you come to see me fight?” He laughs at his own joke, shaking his head before they could even say anything. “Really though, what are you doing here? It’s not as fun as it looks, y’know”

“We’re looking to talk to Hakari-”

“Who was that with you?” Megumi speaks up before Yuuji could begin his explanation.

Yuuji turns to him with a confused look, which Panda shares for a moment, before he chuckles.

“She went down that way,” He said, pointing behind him in the direction he’d been heading. “(y/n/n) always ditches fights fast. Hates the crowd, I guess. Not me, I love the-”

“Wait, (y/n/n)?” Yuuji repeats the semi-familiar nickname, his jaw going slack and his eyes widening.

He turns to share a look with Megumi, but it seemed the raven haired boy was already processing just whose nickname that could’ve been. His face was flushed so pale he looked sick.

“As in (y/n)-(y/n/n)?” Yuuji continues.

“Yeah,” Panda nods affirmatively, not understanding just how devastating his casual response was for the younger sorcerers in front of him. “She’s-”

“She’s alive?” Megumi finally speaks.

His voice is hardly above a whisper, but the words are like a dropping bomb. Clear, and unmistakable.

Panda blinks in shock, his features contorting in realization as he looks between his two friends. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know where to start.

So he nods his head, and turns to point down the corridor he’d been heading once more.

He gives them specific directions to where she’d been likely to go. Megumi listens but doesn’t quite hear a thing he’s saying. His heart is pounding in his ears, his body is going hot, and even once his feet are moving on their own accord- apparently having understood the directions just fine without his ears- he frets that he might break down into a panic attack if he’s not quick enough.

The warning signs are there, the labored breaths, the hot and cold flashes in quick succession, his blurring vision- but he ignores all of it, racing through what was left of the crowd to slip into the near empty corridor. Yuuji is hot on his tail as they dart through, eyes moving in all directions at every doorway and passerby, just to be sure that they wouldn’t miss her.

“(y/n)?”

Her name leaves his mouth in a strangled choke of syllables, as though it were his first time speaking in months.

She hadn’t been facing his direction, her hand still on the handle of the door she was about to open. Her movements had been rushed, like she were hoping to sneak into the room and lock the door behind her as quickly as possible.

But now, as her hand stilled and a chill shot up her spine at the familiar voice, her movements were far too slow as she turned towards the owner of said voice.

Megumi and Yuuji are standing a few feet down the hall, their heavy footsteps having skid to a stop when they finally did see her. She’s closer to them now than she had been in the ring, and although she still wore the mask, she was far more recognizable now.

Her hand trembles as she raises a hand to her head, pulling at the black material of her mask until it gives way, sliding off her head and pooling in the palm of her hand, revealing her face completely now.

Her eyes were wide as they moved between Yuuji and Megumi slowly, disbelief written in her features from the way her brows drew together, to the part in her lips but no words coming out, to the way her eyes began to water as they snapped back into reality and began to move closer to her.

“Megumi?” She drops his name in a mumble, barely audible even to herself, but seeing him here, right now, has her in such a state of shock that she could have believed Panda threw her around too rough and now she was experiencing delusions.

But then she’s moving too, her feet shuffling at first before picking up pace and running towards them once she’s close enough that she didn’t even need to.

“(y/n)!” Yuuji cheers when they’re huddled close together again.

“Yuuji!” She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, rocking back and forth in bliss upon seeing her beloved friend safe and before her now.

When they part, Megumi still hasn’t figured out what it is he should even say. He doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and suddenly feels so anxious he worries he might throw up. To his luck, (y/n) acts before he has to, and she’s giving him the same warm welcome.

Her arms are tight around his shoulders, and her fingers curl into the material at the back of his uniform jacket. She gathers the fabric in her fists, making sure that he won’t pull away until she’s squeezed every bit of comfort out of his embrace as possible.

And to her surprise, he returns to affection with more force than she would’ve thought. One arm around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest, the other laying upwards against her spine so that he could bury his hand in her hair and cradle her head close to him. He’s shaking, she can feel it, and she pushes closer until her face is buried against his shoulder, hoping to ease his panic.

“We- I thought-” He gasps between struggling breaths, and she’s never heard him sound so broken. He drops his head so his lips hover over her ear when he finds his voice again. “I thought you were dead”

Her heart spikes with an odd feeling, and she squeezes him a little harder before pulling back.

“Alive as ever” She says with a weak smile and an awkward shrug of her shoulders.

Megumi has to shove his hands into his pockets to hide their obvious trembling. The rush of adrenaline in his system hadn’t quite worn off yet, and at this rate he wasn’t sure that it would.

“Well what happened?” Yuuji asked. “How’d you end up here?”

She lets out a humorless chuckle before wincing.

“It’s… it’s not an interesting story,” She explains, then beckons with her hand to have them follow her back to her door. “Here, I sorta have my own space, if you want to come in I can tell you about it, and then you can tell me what you’re doing here, too”

Yuuji begins a long winded rant right away. He tells her all about meeting Yuuta and dying again, and despite Megumi sending him a dirty look for going into too much depth about the parts that didn’t matter as much, (y/n) was an attentive listener, taking in every detail and asking him questions, too. A lot about Yuuta, seeing as she hadn’t crossed paths with him in months, it was good to know he was still out there and on their side. Yuuji continued on about the culling games, and how they had come here originally looking for Hakari.

“But then we found you and Panda- hey wait, do you know Hakari?” Yuuji asked excitedly. “Maybe you could talk to him for us-!”

Her eyes widen with uncertainty, a nervous smile stretching over her lips as she shakes her head quickly.

“I- I don’t know about that,” She tells him. “He doesn’t really come out much, I think I’ve seen him once since getting here. I wasn’t exactly trying to get on his radar. He doesn’t love those affiliated with Jujutsu Tech, you know”

“What? Why! He must like you, your fight was very entertaining!” Yuuji gushes. Megumi sends him another look that he ignores. “And you mastered Black Flash! He’s got to be interested in- ow!”

Megumi smacked his hand upside the back of Yuuji’s head, making sure this time that he didn’t miss the look he was giving him. His displeasure wasn’t exactly subtle. (y/n) laughed through her nose at the pair that hadn’t seemed to change too much in their time apart.

Besides the fact that Yuuji had a few more scars on his face. And Megumi looked like he had lost a bit of weight. Besides that, their demeanors hadn’t changed one bit. For a second at a time, she could pretend things were normal again.

“Go find Panda and tell him our plan,” Megumi orders gruffly. “See if he has any ideas on how to get Hakari to see us”

“What? But-!”

Megumi widened his eyes, silently telling Yuuji to go. The pink haired boy huffed, but stood from his seat on the floor and shuffled towards the door.

“And keep a low profile!” Megumi called, only for Yuuji to wave him off nonchalantly before shutting the door behind him.

(y/n) chuckled when it was just the two of them, turning to face him again.

“So,” She breathes out a heavier exhale than she’d expected. “How’s he really holding up?”

“How you’d expect,” Megumi replies honestly. “It was really rough for a while. We all were… pretty messed up. Still are, I guess”

(y/n) frowns.

“Yeah,” She mumbles. “Shibuya… was…” She drops her head before she could finish her thought. There wasn’t a word strong enough to explain the devastation of the incident.

Megumi’s fingers begin to twitch, fiddling and locking together as he thought over what he wanted to say next.

“Look, before we…” He starts, but loses momentum quickly. He clears his throat to try again. “When I last saw you, I-”

“It’s okay,” (y/n) cuts him off before he could say anything more. The face he makes is uncertain, and she gives him a nod as she repeats herself. “Really, Megumi, it’s okay. It was just a fight, it didn’t mean anything”

“But I-” He starts, only for her to shake her head again. “But it did mean something” He argues.

“We fought a lot, Megumi,” (y/n) chuckles. “Trust me, if I was holding onto resentment over every time we ever argued, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now”

“No- not like that,” Megumi shakes his head. “It meant something because you left and I- I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, (y/n),” His voice holds a grave tone that has her kind smile faltering and her brows pinching together as she watches him. “Yuuji said he lost track of you when you were dealing with all the transfigured humans and- and then you were just gone”

(y/n) blinks, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she realizes just how long it had been since they’d seen each other. How long he must’ve carried around guilt and grief over her. It makes her heart sink, and she shuffles forward on her knees to sit closer to him.

“I got dragged out of the train station pretty quick,” She tells him. “There were so many of… them… and I knew that I was worrying Yuuji while exorcizing them. Cause- cause it didn’t feel like exorcizing,”

Megumi nods, recalling how Yuuji had told him she’d been crying during the whole ordeal, something quite out of character for her. Even now as her eyes begin to tear up, the sight is alarming.

“It felt like… like killing,” She whispers. “So I started leading them away and got outnumbered and got dragged out further. By the time I… once they were all gone, I was out of it. I must’ve passed out or something, because when I came to, Shibuya was… gone. I tried finding you- I tried finding anyone-” She tries to catch her wording, but she’s not quick enough. “But it was just rubble and dust. It was nothing. After a while of trying to find somewhere to land to… to rest and regain some strength, I found this place and Panda with it and I just… stayed. It sort of started to feel like this is all that was left,”

She lets out a shaky sigh, rubbing her clammy hands over her thighs to relieve some of the stress building up in her body. It doesn’t do much, but she continues the action a few more times.

“You know, I didn’t necessarily think I’d ever see you again, either,” Her eyes are downcast as she speaks. “For a while I wondered, um, if you’d show up here…”

“Sorry it took so long,” Megumi replies quietly. She lets out a short, watery chuckle. “But we’re here now,” He adds, moving closer to her, until she looks up at him, surprised by the sudden close proximity. Her eyes are wide as they flicker quickly over his face, trying to read his expression.

It was a new one for Megumi, one she’s not sure she’s ever seen on him before. Except maybe the night in the infirmary, when he’d stitched up her arm. Her face feels warm, and she can’t decide if it’s because of the memory, or if it’s because of how close he is to her.

“And I’m not going anywhere without you” He tells her. His voice is low, but instinctively, she doesn’t feel a shroud of doubt in his words.

She blinks to try to rid the tears from her eyes, but after reliving the last week and a half, and reuniting with the people she’d been naively hoping were just missing and not gone was starting to get on top of her. She’d spent quite some time shoving down bitter thoughts and choosing to stay in denial. As long as she focused on her matches and made enough of an earning to have a place to crash, she tried to stay as blissfully ignorant as possible.

Still, there had been a few sleepless nights when she’d wander outside and try to find a few constellations in the sky, or when she’d lay wide awake and let the tip of her finger trace over the perfectly straight scar on her shoulder.

“Really?”

The question comes out with a shaky breath. She held no uncertainty in him, Megumi was a man who was always true to his word, but reality was beginning to settle in and the urge to hold on to him and never let go was growing stronger.

Megumi nods, clearly amused that she even had to ask. It felt like the first time in a long time that a smile began to twitch on his lips, the muscle feeling awkward from underuse. His eyes gleam as he reiterates his intentions.

“We’re not splitting up again,” He tells her, a weight hanging on to each word. His eyes move between hers, and when she blinks, a tear sticks to her lashes. “I’m not losing you again” He adds in a smaller voice.

A choked sound that almost sounded like a laugh comes out of her as she nods back at him, shaky and fast. For once, agreeing with him completely.

To (y/n), there had always been something about Megumi that drew her to him. He was easy to pick on, easy to tease and laugh at. She found joy in their banter, even when it was less petty and more serious, there was a magnetic spark between them that she just couldn’t deny. She’d tried to explore that feeling, before Shibuya. But she’d never known how exactly to approach it, always becoming apprehensive of the foreign feeling.

Now, it felt so easy to jump into the unknown territory that she felt silly for never having worked up the courage to do so before. The fear of losing someone she cared so much about was too great, and there was no time to waste.

Her tear dropped onto her cheek, the fat droplet rolling slowly across her skin until it dipped into the edge of her wobbly smile. A few more followed shortly after, unable to be stopped no matter how hard she willed herself not to cry.

Just as she raised the back of her hand to hastily rub the wetness away, Megumi beat her to it, moving closer to her as both hands worked softly to catch each tear. They were cold against the hot wet skin, just as she’d remembered, and she found herself shutting her eyes and leaning into how comforting they felt. The tears didn’t stop, but she didn’t seem to be in any anguish.

“I’m not losing you again either,” She whispers, her fingers skimming over his wrist before she clasps her hand around it, making sure he doesn’t pull away just yet. “I- I can’t” The words come out in a small whimper.

Megumi nods in understanding. His thumbs swiping across her cheekbones, and softly under her eyes, trying to catch every last tear.

“I know,” He says softly, still nodding as his eyes wander her features, making sure there weren’t any lingering tears he’d missed. “I know, and you won’t, ‘m not goin’ anywhere”

When their eyes lock again, she’s overwhelmed by an influx of emotion. An eagerness to have him back by her side, a desire to keep him there next to her and never let him go, to never let anything take him away again.

“Listen, ‘gumi, I-” She tries to put words to the feeling, wanting to explain to him that having him here with her was sending her heart into orbit, wanting to tell him that knowing he was alive and he was okay was the first time she’d felt happiness in what seemed like weeks.

But the words are too difficult. They’re too big and they get caught in her throat. Rather than try to force them out, she acts on it instead.

Megumi anticipates the movement before she leans forward, catching the way her eyes rapidly shift between his and his mouth. He reciprocates the look, curious to see if it meant what he’d thought it did, but just as quickly as his eyes land on her parted lips, she’s shooting forward and pressing them against his.

It’s a rushed kiss at first, full of anxiety and grief that hadn’t fully been relieved yet. It’s messy lips and clashing teeth, but once they both realize that whatever this feeling was, it was reciprocated, they relaxed.

Megumi sighs through his nose as he cups her cheeks and keeps her close, kissing her a little more softly, a little more deliberate in his need to display to her just how much he’d missed her. In turn, (y/n’s) hands rest against his shoulders, squeezing just firm enough that he could feel her there, without being too aggressive.

Kissing her like his life depended on it made him feel like everything could turn out alright now that she was with him again. Now that he was sure she was here, feeling the heat in her cheeks, and her soft breaths against his cheek, Megumi thinks his life had depended on this.

Up until about an hour ago he’d been mentally checked out since Shibuya. Seeing her again brought him back a sense of purpose he hadn’t even really noticed he’d been losing.

Her hands are gentle when they card into his hair, combing softly through the dark locks that seemed a little longer since the last time she’d seen him. He sighed at the sensation, unintentionally breaking their kiss.

The tips of his hair tickle her skin as his forehead drops to rest against hers. (y/n) lets out a soft, breathless giggle before opening her eyes.

He’s smiling at her. So full of delight that his blue eyes seem to gleam, and they’re crinkled at their corners. She can’t help but smile back at him, her heart full and her face warm, even with his cool hands still holding it.

Megumi moves then, fingers catching a loose strand of hair. He twirls it thoughtfully for a moment before tucking it behind her ear carefully, and laying his palm across her cheek again. His long fingers splay out, wanting to touch as much of her as he possibly can, just to keep sure that she really is in front of him.

“No more runnin’ off, alright?” He murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing hers.

Her hands latch behind his neck, her focus on his lips as she thinks about kissing him again. They linger there for a moment before shyly meeting his gaze again.

“Don’t let me go again”

He shakes his head, a silent vow to never do anything to push her away again, and even if he fails to keep her by his side, he swears he’d follow her, wherever she may go.

With his eyes falling shut he leans in again, lips grazing hers as he speaks.

“I won’t,” He murmurs, and then once more before he seals their lips again. “I won’t”

She could never part from him again. She loved him too much to even conceive the idea. What was next to come would be difficult, she may not have known Hakari very well personally, but she knew enough to be anxious about approaching him. He was a bit of a loose cannon. However she was sure that with Megumi- and Yuuji and Panda of course- they would come up with the right plan of action to gain his help.

With needy hands and a needier heart she clings to him now, just to be sure that she could never look back and regret not holding onto him tight enough. He does the same, dropping his hands to circle his arms around her waist and pull her in impossibly close to him.

Whatever it took, he’d keep hold of her for the rest of their lives. Nothing could ever take her from him again as long as she was right there in his arms.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i got you where i want you // you did it, i never // i’m falling for forever ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

#fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi x reader #megumi imagine #megumi #fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro friends to lovers #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #megumi brainrot

549 notes · View notes

geombyu · 9 months

Text

GOJO SEES YOU WEARING HIS SHIRT !

Pairing. student!gojo x student!gn!reader

Genre. fluff, friends to hinted lovers perhaps

Word count. 0.6k | Warnings. swearing, the reader is smaller than gojo (the shirt is big on them)

A/N. i see a lot of these and like 7/10 times theyre smut LMAOAO so i wanted to write a fluff ver! i also did Not think id be writing for jjk but 😭 ig we are + not rlly proofread sorry :(

Today was Gojo's day off, and what better way to start it than waking up at four pm?

He was a busy guy - despite only being in high school - he's already taken on many jobs, it was only right he could get sixteen hours of sleep.

When he arrived at your shared dorm at twelve in the morning, you were already asleep, so when he got out of his room and laid his eyes on you wearing his t-shirt, he couldn't help but gasp.

"Oh, hey Satoru." You spoke, sparing him a quick glance before going back to cooking. His mouth was still wide open; he couldn't respond—he tried, but he couldn't. No sound could leave him. Who knew all it took for the strongest to be left speechless was the sight of you in his shirt?

You look back at him, seeing how his jaw was still on the floor, you realize it was probably because of what you were wearing right now.

"Oh! This? Sorry," you chuckle, "none of my clothes have been washed yet—call me gross, whatever—so I decided to steal from your wardrobe. Hope you don't mind." You stuck your tongue out before placing the eggs on a plate.

You moved to put the plate on the dining table, giving him a better view of you in his shirt. It fit him so perfectly, so seeing it so big on you absolutely made his heart melt.

There was a light tint of pink on your friend's cheeks now; you were so cute he felt like he was going to pass out.

"Are you okay with just eggs? There's more stuff but I wanna save them for next time—oh, actually, you might not be here tomorrow…" You mumbled the last part, choosing to ignore how he still hasn't responded to any of your sentences.

Gojo tried to get a word out, but all he could manage was a strange, strangled noise, which you respond to with a confused hum. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't organize any of his thoughts. He was screaming over and over in his head, but there was a thought slightly bigger than the rest (the rest which consisted of AAAA's, OH MY GOD's, and WHAT THE FUCK's)—that thought was: "holy fuck you're so adorable," which was also exactly what he just blurted out.

Now it was your turn to be flustered, "I—what?"

Gojo's eyes widen before he covers his face with his hands, his face now fully red. "Ignore what I just said," his voice was muffled, but you could still hear what he said.

You never thought you'd see the Gojo Satoru blushing so deeply with his face in his hands, but here he is. You laugh, "can you repeat that?" You were teasing him, I mean, it's not every day that this happens, but any more teasing and his heart might actually blow up.

"Y/n, shut up—oh my God—I hate you!"

"I thought you said I was adorable? Or do you hate cute things?"

He yells into the palms of his hands.

Although you're being bold right now, him calling you adorable caused your brain to shut down for a good millisecond. Gojo complimented you all the time, but somehow, this felt different.

You walk to where he's standing right now, hands still covering his pretty face. You put your hand on his, and the feeling of your warm and soft hands comfort him.

He could tell you wanted to pull his hands away, and while he didn't want that, he was so weak to your touch.

He had no other option but to give in, so he did. You put his left hand away first, then the right. With his hand still in yours, you softly spoke, "if that's the case, then you must really hate yourself."

Oh, he was so in love with you.

3K notes · View notes

breadbrobin · 3 months

Text

skipping stones

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

summary: it’s been a rough day for you, and clarisse doesn’t know how to help, as much as she wants to try

warnings: none really, just fluff and a little sad slander oops, oh and maybe slightly ooc clarisse as always

word count: 783

(hiiii it’s been a minute. i wrote this after skipping stones at a river for like an hour while my friend sat around next to me and i wanted someone to support me in my skipping endeavours so here we are)

————————————————

clarisse could always find you skipping stones.

you weren’t good at it. hell, you were even bad at it. but that never stopped you.

you’d told her once that it kept you closer to your family, since you hadn’t been able to get back to them since coming to camp two years ago, and you missed them more than words could describe.

she wasn’t even sure how it happened; how you became her best friend at camp, and she became yours, despite your differences.

where she was hard, you were soft. where she was cruel, you were kind. and where she was cold, you were as warm as any fire she’d ever known. warmer, even.

she didn’t even know when those feelings had shifted—from indifference to care, from friendship to love—but it didn’t really matter. what did matter was she could always find you skipping stones. and that’s exactly where you were.

she sat next to you on the shore, staring out at the long island sound ahead of her. you were looking down at the rocks, no doubt searching for your next ones to skip. your knees were bent and pulled to your chest with your arm under your thighs to lean forward. she couldn’t help but smile. if anyone saw she’d be made fun of, but with you, she didn’t care too much. she picked up a flat stone by her foot and nudged you.

you looked up at her with a smile, taking the stone and preparing to skip it. “thanks.” this one skipped maybe three times. she wasn’t really paying attention. her eyes were on your face, mapping your features, the light freckles, the crease between your eyebrows as you searched for another stone. she was watching your hands as you weighed two up before choosing one. she was staring at your lips, seeing them pout, press together, curl into a slight smile as the stone skipped.

“what’s wrong?” she asked.

“do you wanna try?” you extended a flat stone to her, about half the size of her palm. she was tempted to take it and put it in her pocket.

but she shook her head. “i’ve never had enough patience to learn to skip stones. you know that.”

“i do,” you nodded, your lips pressed together again. gods, what she wouldn’t give for those lips to be pressed against hers. “worth a shot.”

you skipped it, pouting as it crashed through a small wave and disappeared into the sea.

“what’s wrong?” clarisse asked again. “you can’t avoid the question forever, n/n.”

“yes, i can,” you said, skipping another rock.

“no. i won’t let you. what is it? did someone mess with you? i’ll kill them—“

you cut her off by laughing. “no, clarisse! no one messed with me, and please don’t commit any crimes in my name.”

“yours is the only name i’d ever commit crimes in,” she said firmly. you believed her. “now, tell me what’s wrong.”

you sighed and looked out at the grey horizon. it wasn’t a beautiful day, but it was warm for early spring and it hadn’t rained yet. “my dad called camp. he wants me to come home.”

“i thought your dad didn’t know where you were.”

“so did i.”

it was silent.

“so, what? he sent you away? that’s bullshit!”

“yeah,” you didn’t drag your eyes from the horizon. your knuckles were tight around a stone in your grip. “it is.”

her red-hot anger died in her throat as she saw your face and the blatant hurt on it. she wasn’t good at comforting people. she was actually really bad. it was easy to comfort clarisse: just let her yell about it and punch things until she feels better. but you… she’d seen you upset before, but never defeated. you looked defeated.

she was stumped.

“do you… do you need, like, a hug?” she offered awkwardly.

a snort escaped your lips. “a hug?”

“yeah! i mean… what do you need? how can i help you?” she asked, trying to save face.

you paused, turning your gaze to look at her face. “a hug would be nice, yeah.”

she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around you. she was worried it’d be awkward, that you’d both be tense and uncomfortable and it would be terrible, but you settled into her arms like you were made to be there. and god you were warm. it was like hugging someone who’d just gotten out of the drier.

“and if this doesn’t help we can throw rocks in the sea and yell about how angry we are,” she suggested after a moment. “that always helps me.”

she took your laughter as a good sign.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn

620 notes · View notes

wishlistcharles · 3 months

Text

finally → ln4

lando norris x plus size!fem reader

genre: best friends to lovers

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), slight angst, slight dom lando, slight dirty talk, pls let me know if I am forgetting anything

word count: 4.9k

sidenote: hi everyone! this is my first fanfic that I have ever written so please excuse if its not the best, I hope to get better with time. I want to take requests so if ya'll have any lmk! this is also not beta read, sorry if there are little mistakes. I also tried to not make the reader self deprecating but insecurities are a thing so it was a bit hard to find a balance.

♡♡♡♡

You and Lando had been friends for as long as you could remember. It was a crucial part of your weekends growing up hoping in the car with his family and watching his karting tournaments. You knew from a very young age Lando would be one of the greats, he would make it to f1. That always scared you, not because you didn't want him to achieve his dreams but because you were scared of losing him. But throughout your friendship he had stayed loyal to you.

Growing up, it was like Lando was your protector, he still kinda is to be honest. You were a big girl, there was no hiding it. Now that you are older, you’ve began to love and accept your body, but it took a lot of practice. So much so that even Lando has had his fair share of putting his two cents in. He was never embarrassed of you or tried to hide you away, even as he got more popular.

You remember when you were around 15, you were sitting in the stands next to his mom when you overheard some of the other drivers' friends talk about you.

“God how is he not embarrassed to be hanging out with someone who looks like her” and so on. You had felt mortified that day, you went home and cried to your mom. When the next weekend came you made up an excuse why you couldn't go and the same went on for the next couple of weekends until Lando showed up at your doorstep.

“You're ignoring me, and don't say you aren't” said a pouty 15 year old Lando. “I'm not ignoring you, Lando, just maybe it's best if I don't go to all your karting tournaments”. You immediately regret what came out of your mouth because the last thing you ever wanted was to make Lando feel like you have, less than.

“Who are you to decide what's best and what isn't?” you weren't used to this type of Lando, he never got mad at you or raised his voice. Being the emotional teenager you were, tears welled in your eyes and a few strayed away down your cheeks. Suddenly Lando grabbed you and pulled you into a hug. You have always been bigger than him but shorter as well. You felt small in his embrace. Even if in the back of your head you knew that was a lie. “What happened y/n, tell me so I can make this better”

“ I don't want to embarrass you” you said into his chest. “embarrass me how?”.

“I overheard some of the other driver's friends talking about me and my weight, and they are right, I don't want to embarrass you, racing is your life, Lando, I can’t ruin that”.

You felt his chest rise and fall. “Tell me who told you that, now” he said in a cold distant tone, Lando never got angry, except on the track. “No I'm not going to tell you, because I don’t need you getting in trouble”. He looked a bit deflated after you refused to tell him but he continued to talk.

“Y/n listen to me, you are one of the best things to happen to me, your weight has and will not ever matter to me. The fact that you think it would tells me that I haven’t been doing a good enough job at showing you how much you mean to me. Racing these past weekends without you have been hell, i need you, you are my best friend” the friend part rings in your ears. You realize that’s what you’ll only ever be to him - a friend. Even if you desperately wanted more.

Things get a lot better after that. You got to his tournaments loud and proud, and now 9 years later you are still doing the same. The problem is that you are still desperately in love with your best friend. Having to see Lando date girls who looked nothing like you made you feel a pit in your stomach. You knew you never had a chance with him, but it hurt so bad. The kind of hurt that made you want to cry and throw up. You couldn’t lose him though, so you played the role as his bigger best friend, that he just couldn’t shake off.

Lando once called you his good luck charm, saying that race weekends where you weren’t in the grandstands were ten times harder. Once he made it to formula 1 it made it harder to go to all his races, but you tried. Even when Lando would have his girlfriends you were still there, sitting right next to them. If people knew how you felt, they would pity you. That’s why you knew it was time to try and find a boyfriend, you couldn’t pine after Lando for the rest of your life, even if your heart wanted to.

As you’ve gotten older you’ve learned to love and embrace your body. You know you looked good when you put on a dress that showed your thick thighs. Every race weekend you are dressed to the nines, make up, hair, everything done. You do this for yourself but also because you want to look good for Lando even if you tell yourself that’s not the reason.

It wasn’t until this year you finally started taking dating seriously. At Silverstone this year, Lando had given you paddock tickets. You always tried to deny them by saying it was important that his family had paddock tickets but he insisted. This is when you met Mark, one of mclarens engineers. He was sweet, funny enough, tall, cute, everything a girl could want, but he wasn’t Lando. You followed him though on instagram because you told yourself you were not gonna pine over Lando this year, you were gonna find a partner who loved and supported you.

It didn’t take long before Lando had found out that you were following each other. Asking curious questions “hey how do you and mark know each other?” He questioned. “oh we met at silver stone and he asked to follow” in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have told him that because he proceeds to tell you how Mark is a terrible person, boring, mean all of the above. A part of you knew Lando was lying but you wouldn’t jeopardize his career by dating one of his race engineers.

It’s race weekend in Austin and you were able to fly out and watch Lando race. He had an amazing race, to celebrate he wanted to go clubbing which was a rare occasion after his DJing side career. You looked in the mirror before you left your room and you looked so good. Your dress showed off all your features and your makeup looked great. You weren’t the type for one night stands but you were gonna find someone tonight.

After arriving at the club with Lando and his friends you found yourself alone at the bar. Lando was a popular person and you don't need his attention constantly. You took this opportunity to look cute and hopefully approachable. It wasn't long before a guy had offered to buy you a drink, and another one, and another one. After your third vodka cranberry you had started to feel tipsy but you were still fully aware of your surroundings so when the handsome guy in front of you pulled you on the dance floor you obliged.

You felt good and it was rare you ever let yourself go like this. The club started playing Spanish music and you found yourself grinding on this stranger. Your body felt flushed, like you needed to be touched and this random man was doing the trick. His hand gripped tightly on your hips and his head placed between the junction of your neck and shoulder placing hungry kisses. Just as you are about to suggest you guys get out of here, a pair of strong hands pulls you out of the man's grip. “Come on y/n where are leaving, the cars are here” Lando whispered in your ear, you couldn’t quite place his tone.

“It’s okay Lando, you go ahead I’ll meet you guys there” you said hoping he got the hint but of course he didn’t. “No i'm not leaving you alone with this guy, come on let’s go” he said, slightly tugging at you. The random guy, whose name you still don’t know, steps in, “dude she doesn’t want to go, let her stay with me”. You see something shift in Lando, something possessive? “Mate she’s mine so I suggest backing the fuck off”.

That sobered you up real quick. Instead of feeling happy he called you his, you were fueming. He had no right to do that, he wants to cockblock you and for what. At this point you walk past them and head towards the exit, it’s not long before Lando is at your side in the car trying to talk to you. “Y/n I’m sorry, talk to me”, you don’t, you ignore him the entire way back to the hotel. You let tears fall down your face because all you wanted was to have a random hookup, something that you could leave back in the states and forget about, someone that you didn’t have to worry about his opinion on your weight afterwards. But Lando went and did this and you don’t know why.

He followed you to your hotel room and you finally let him have it. “ How dare you do that, you had no right to do that Lando” he opens his mouth to say something but you stop him. “ No, let me talk, I just wanted one night where I could be with a guy carefree and not have to worry about what others thought, Lando I’m a grown adult I don’t need you to save me, you don’t understand what it’s like to be like me. I love you Lando but I can’t keep myself available forever hoping and waiting that you’ll finally love me ". That last part wasn’t meant to come out but you were so mad at him you didn’t care.

You see a shift in his face. “You can’t say I’m yours when I’m not, because I never have been, the girls that are yours don’t look like me Lando. And I’ve accepted that because I love you and will always support you, even if it feels like there is a knife digging in my chest every time I see you with a new girl”. Tears again are welling in your eyes but you are doing your best not to let them fall.

“I love you Lando but I can’t be your friend if you don’t let me go, you can’t keep stringing me along as your best friend who acts like your girlfriend, do you know how pathetic I look next to your past girlfriends, pining after you. I was the one who made sure you were prepared before every race, I was the one who stayed up late picking you up from clubs, I was the one who held your neck up after your first F1 race because it hurt so bad. Not once did I ever ask for something in return because you are my best friend and I love you, but Lando I’m begging you, I can’t be alone forever you need to let me try and be with someone. You mean the world to me Lando and I need you in my life, but I can’t go on like this” he looked stunned. But found the words he wanted to say.

“Can i talk now y/n” he looked angry, you nodded. “Not once have I ever forced you to be there for me, but I know you were there because you cared for me and I care for you too, even though you think I don’t. But not once have I ever wanted you to feel pity or pathetic, y/n you are the most important woman in my life besides my mom and sisters but you mean everything to me and I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it. Seeing you with that guy made me physically sick, not because of how you guys looked, god y/n you looked so good tonight but he was grabbing on you and touching you, but I knew I couldn’t be mad because he was doing what I have been wanting to do for years, he just had the balls to do it, oh my god I can’t believe you thought I would ever think of you like that, y/n I’m in love with you and I have been for years, I was just too much of a coward to show it, I want you to be mine”

In that moment everything seemed like it would be okay, you didn’t think about what the press would think or his other friends, all that mattered was him. You nodded. “Lando that’s all I’ve ever wanted was to be yours” before you knew it he was walking towards you and placing you in a firm kiss.

You have had your fair share of kisses but none of them like this, this kiss made your knees weak, it made you want to crumble to the ground. He moved his hand from your cheeks down to your waist giving them a hard squeeze, sending shocks of pleasure down your pelvic area.

You both pull away panting when he places his forehead on yours, “you don’t know how mad I got when he was touching you, the way you let him grind up on you and kiss your neck, I wanted to beat the shit out of him”. You rebuttal by saying “while now you know how I’ve felt for years seeing you with girls, even the ones who talked shit about me, I wanted to fight them all”.

This seemed to catch Lando by surprise “which ones talked shit about you?” “Babes half of them did, I chalked it up to them being jealous but it didn’t hurt any less”. “Fuck y/n I’m so sorry I never even loved any of them that’s the worst part of it, I was just trying to feel a void in my heart”. You went to hug him, placing your head on his chest.

“Y/n I’m sorry I was an idiot and it took this long for me to realize my feelings and I’m sorry you got hurt in the process” said Lando

“No don’t apologize, deep down a part of me knew that if we were ever together, it would make things harder for your career, you would get so much hate”

“Even if it did, I would walk to the ends of the earth for you, no public option would change that”

Something hot grew inside of you and you crashed your lips to his, you wanted him. He fisted his hand in your hair lightly pulling it, that made you moan into his mouth. You could feel him smirk. Your hands settled under his shirt, mostly because your hands are cold but because you want to feel him. All of a sudden Landos hands traveled their way down your back and settled on your ass, gripping hard he stopped kissing you and whispered, “this ass is mine, don’t forget that”. You gasp and nod, you want nothing more than for Lando to take you right now.

You slow down your kiss to talk “ Lando I want you so bad” “ I do to baby” with that you start to pull off his shirt showing his toned chest. It’s not like you’ve never seen him shirtless before because you have but this was different. You stare “you like what you see baby?” lando asked in a teasing tone. You bite your lip and nod.

Lando starts to take your dress off and you panic. You grab his hands, “wait can I keep my dress on”

Lando gives you a look, and you can already tell what's going to come out of his mouth. You want to stop him because he knows you are pretty and your body is pretty but being naked in front of your best friend of 17 plus years is intimate. And it's not that you don't trust him but you can't help but feel the slightest bit insecure. Let's be honest you knew deep down Lando has never been with a girl who looked like you. Lando starts to say “if you want to keep it on you can, I would never pressure you to take it off but I want you to know I think you are the prettiest girl in the world. You don’t know how hot and bothered you would get me showing up to race weekends dressed in short skirts and your tits about to pop out”. In the back of your head you want to keep hearing his vulgar mouth, it does something to you. In response, you nod, slowly taking off your dress. You were left in nothing but your bra and underwear. “Fuck” you hear Lando whisper. Suddenly he’s attacking your neck, leaving harsh kisses.

You feel his stubble, his goatee rubs against the base of your neck. “You look so fucking good y/n, can’t wait to have you wrapped around me” You feel yourself get shy, you’ve thought about this moment a lot and now that it’s finally happening you want to do so much. Lando seems to notice your timidness and asks what’s wrong. “Nothing, I’ve just played this up in my head so much I want to be good for you” you reply.

“Yeah you want to be my good girl huh? Don’t worry baby I have no doubt in my mind you are going to be amazing and listen to me” you feel yourself falling into a submissive space.

Lando continues to kiss you all while walking you both to the bed and gently laying you down. You have your hands loosely attached around his neck, so him breaking away is no surprise. “Gonna eat you out baby, can I?” Lando asks licking his lips

You nod your head furiously, it’s been forever since the last time you’ve had sex and even longer since someone has gone down on you.

As Lando kisses his way down your body, you feel a flood of wetness starting to pull at your core. Your body felt like it was on fire. “Lift your hips up” he commanded. You listen and do what is asked.

You feel the cool air make contact with your pussy, sending shivers all throughout your body. “You have such a pretty pussy, so wet just for me huh? I bet you taste so good y/n'' Lando speaks in a seductive tone.

All you can do is let out a strangled whine. Desperate to have his mouth on you. He makes you wait a bit longer, he’s a tease at heart and you knew this. He sends kisses up and down your thighs, your stomach. Finally he places a kiss directly on your clit and proceeds to blow a puff of air. “Please Lando please, I need you” you beg, who knew you would be this far gone. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take care of you” and with that he attaches his lips around your clit sucking lightly. This makes you arch your back and your hands fly into his hair, gripping it tight. It’s almost too much, he notices and starts to lick around your vulva getting you more wet than you already were.

You are a moaning mess at this point, your hands keep pulling at his hair getting a moan out of him. He looks up at you and asks “gonna stick my fingers in you is that okay” you already feel so fucked out that all you can do is nod dumbly.

You feel his middle finger slowly sink into your heat. Lando didn’t have the thickest fingers but they were long, you let out a gasp when the single digit sinks in.

Lando continues to suck and lick around your clit. It’s not long before you start to feel a coil tighten in your lower stomach. If he continues to do what he’s doing you know you are going to come within the matter of minutes. It almost makes you sad because if this was a one time thing, you want to come around his cock, to be close with him. You open your mouth to voice your concern “Lando I’m going to come soon, stop, wanna come around your cock”

He looks up at you, “you can come more than once right? Want you to come all over my face then again on my cock. You can do that right? You can be a good girl for me”. You nod desperately, his words send you further over the edge. You feel his lips engulf your clit and moan sending vibrations throughout your body. He has since added another finger slowly rocking back and forth into you.

You feel your coil snap and a gush of wetness leaves you. You couldn’t even announce that you were coming but Lando got the gist. But he wanted to be a little bastard and play rough. He continued to suck and lick around your bundle of nerves, despite you being sensitive from your orgasm. You whine and try to close your legs around his head. But he only forces them open with his hand.

“Lan please, I want your cock, wanna come again” you hear yourself slur your words. You don’t care at this point because all you want is to feel his body flush against yours.

“How can I say no to you, pretty girl” when Lando comes face to face with you, you see how slick and wet his mouth and chin is. Something primal takes over you and you grab him roughly kissing and licking into his mouth. Lando moans into it and says “you like tasting yourself on me huh? You are so fucking dirty, who knew my best friend and the girl I am in love with would have such a nasty fucking mouth and like such dirty things”.

You can’t even bring yourself to reply because all you want right now is to have his cock in you. You settle for a nod and slowly bring your hands down to his boxers and begin to pull. At some point when you can’t pull them off anymore, he takes over and does it. His cock springs out and all you can do is stare at it.

You are a bit ashamed to say you had imagined what it looked like, but the real thing was 10 times better than what you could ever imagine. He was average in length, but thick and curved to the right slightly. He was well groomed just like you knew he would be. Your mouth watered at the sight, if you weren’t in such a hurry to have him in you, you could sit with him in your mouth for hours. You want to touch so you bring your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

The first drag up there is a little resistance because he is dry, so you reach down and grab some of your wetness and lubricate him up. This makes the motion go much smoother. When he sees you do this, he moans. “Fuck y/n you are so hot, I can’t believe we waited this long to do something. I need to be with you”.

You want him to go bare but as much as you love Lando you know you both should be tested before you do it. “Condom?” You manage to croak out. He nods and hops over to his jeans and fishes one out of his wallet. You want to make fun of him for having one stashed away there but you let it slide. While he's doing this you pull off your bra, hoping to surprise him.

As he comes back to the bed his eyes are wide. “You have the prettiest tits y/n, they drive me crazy, I felt like such a perv getting hard in my fireproof seeing you in the paddock, talking away. You had no idea huh? No idea that you made me feel this way” he questioned

You shake your head no in response.

As he’s in front of you, you see him roll the condom over his shaft. This is really happening. “I want to see your face when you come, can we stay like this?” Lando questions. “Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way” you say in a soft tone.

He slowly starts to enter you. The stretch is tight, it burns in the slightest. It feels like the air is being punched out of you. It’s been a while since you’ve had anyone in you so the burn is to be expected, but it’s not unwelcome. You grab Landos arm for support, he notices your discomfort. “Do you want me to stop, baby? You are so tight, you feel so good”. You shake your head, that’s the last thing you want.

“No, just been a while since I’ve had anything in me, you are so thick just give me a minute to adjust” you say

“Of course, take your time” Lando says while kissing your neck, it helps distract you from the pain. He’s fully in now, it’s just a matter of when you are ready to let him move. You let your body adjust for about a minute when you say “you can move”.

Lando slowly starts to rock back and forth in you. The burn is still there but it’s a delicious kind of sensation. Something you feel like you could get addicted to. You look between your bodies and see your stomach. For once you like the contrast of how your bodies look together. Only Lando could ever make you feel this way, you were sure of it.

You feel Lando breathing heavily into your neck, soft moans slipping out every so often. You can’t wait to do more with him. One particular trust has you clenching around him, he lifts his head and says “fuck you feel so good around me, like you were made for me y/n, you pull me in so good”

This almost brings tears to your eyes, for so long you had been there for him, helped him through thick and thin and he’s always been grateful but his praise is making you melt, pushing you closer to the edge.

Your hands are currently at his back slightly clawing away, you know you couldn’t leave marks but you needed something to grab on to. You felt so full, you knew in a matter of minutes you were gonna come around him. “I feel like i'm gonna come soon” you say. “Same, you feel to good around me I can’t hold it off much longer”

He reaches between your bodies and starts to rub your clit, slowly in circular motions. This sends a shot of pleasure through your body as a reaction you wrap your legs around him.

Suddenly he pulls all the way out and you begin to whine but he slams all the way back in. You moan at the abrupt roughness. He moves back and forth with vigor, determined to get you both off at the same time.

“I'm gonna come” you say when you feel pleasure finally reaching its highpoint. You are clenching, you can feel it. Only seconds later Lando mumbles in your ear that he's reached his high as well. Taking a moment before he pulls out he kisses you all over, your cheeks, forehead, lips. You don't want to let him go but you know you need to go pee and he needs to take his condom off.

When you both return to bed you nestle your face into his neck, his scruff scratching the side of your head. There was no other place in this world you would rather be than in his arms, and yeah that may sound dramatic but he was everything you wanted.

He looked down at you with the warmest eyes. “You are amazing, you know that. If it wasn’t clear before, I want it all with you. You are everything y/n and it’s time for me to start showing you how much I love you and appreciate you. If you’re in, I’m in”

“Of course I’m in you muppet”

You bring your lips to his for a soft peck. For once in the 17 years of your friendship, everything seemed to finally feel like it was going to be okay, and you couldn’t wait for the wild adventure it would be to be Lando Norris’ girlfriend.

596 notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 2 months

Note

Hello ml !! How’ve you been? <3

I was wondering if you’d be up for writing smth with the batfamily, and maybe their reaction to reader coming back home from a sleepover at their partners house, and telling them that they got cheated on?

Have a great day/evening/night <33 🫶

Heartbreak Doesn't Feel So Good.

Hello Hello! Thanks for requesting again, I always love to see you in my inbox. I hope you have been well. Sorry it's a little on the shorter side but I wanted to get this out for you today.

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

The first thing Jason noticed when you stepped through the door was that there were tears running down your face. He had always been observant, but he knew you well. He could tell that your mascara ran beneath your eyes from the way your shoulders were hunched to match your slow movements, gaze firm on the ground. And if he listened carefully enough, he could hear the sniffling that you failed to conceal as you tried to wipe away the evidence of your upset.

“What’s that matter?” He was up in a second, moving toward your side. His face and voice were laced with concern.

You had stayed the night round your partner's house and weren’t supposed to be back for at least a few hours. Jason had seen the way you left, grinning as you carried your bags to the car. But now you stood crestfallen, dropping your bag on the floor in defeat. Something had clearly gone wrong and Jason was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“What happened?” He frowned, helping you remove your jacket.

“I-” Your lip trembled as your eyes filled with tears again. Jason pulled you to his chest and let you weep.

After a tender moment, he guided you over gently to the couch where he sat you down and took your hand in his, repeating his question. His heart nearly broke when you looked up at him.

“They…They cheated on me.” your voice broke as you stuttered out what happened.

Jason felt his fingers clenching to fists.

“What?!” The voice hadn’t come from Jason. It had come from Tim who was passing by the room on his way back from the cave.

“I don’t know what happened…” You sobbed. “I thought we were fine. And then they left for a moment… their phone kept going off. So I checked it. I didn’t want to impose…but I thought it might have been something important. And then I saw her name. And the messages.”

“I swear to god-” Jason nearly growled.

“And when they came back into the room I confronted them. And they didn’t even try to deny it!” More tears streamed from your face, falling hot like acid. Like a lingering reminder. A cruel joke. “They just told me that ‘they didn’t love me anymore’. That they had ‘found someone better’. What kind of an answer is that?!-”

Tim tried to soothe you by placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Shh. It’s gonna be okay kid.”

“But…I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“What’s going on?” Dick had arrived with young Damian in tow. The pair had been sparring and had decided to check up on Tim following his absence, but were starstruck to find you bawling on the couch.

“What’s wrong little bat?” Damian asked. His voice was surprisingly gentle and held much more concern than you thought was ever possible for the stubborn boy.

All four eyes watched you, anticipating you to speak. But you just couldn't, your mind was too busy and you didn’t dare utter the words that you were trying so hard to believe weren’t true. You knew that the moment you said them again all of your walls would come tumbling down, torn from whatever remaining supports were keeping them upright.

“They cheated on her.” Jason spat.

“What an asshole.” Damian jeered. He had seen how happy the pair of you were and the thought of someone switching up that quickly made him feel queasy.

“Oh y/n/n.” Dick sighed “I’m so sorry. That’s unfair.”

You shrugged.

“Didn’t even give her a reason.” Jason continued. You could practically see the steam coming from his ears, despite how he tried not to lose his temper for your sake. But the more you revealed the harder he was finding it. “Just left her at a snap of their fingers.”

“It’s their loss. They didn’t deserve someone like you in the first place.” Dick told you.

“Exactly.” Damian nodded in agreement. “You’re totally way out of their league.”

“You think so?” You sniffled.

“100%. You’re worth so much more than anything in this world and that asshole didn’t deserve any of you.”

A smile upturned at the corner of your lips. Tim reached out and wiped the tears away from your eyes.

“Hey. No more of that crying okay? It’s gonna be fine.”

You nodded, though you still couldn’t shake the sadness from your bones.

“Wanna watch shitty movies and eat ice cream?” Dick asked, sensing this.

“Please?”

And the four of them moved quickly, gathering pillows which they chucked onto the couch to create a pillow fort of sorts. Damian ran into the kitchen to grab ice cream, though he was uncertain of what flavour so he grabbed two alongside a handful of spoons and a plate of brownies that Alfred had just finished making. Then they made themselves comfortable on the couch, surrounding you in their embrace before letting you decide on a film to watch.

And so the five of you sat there for hours, watching chick flicks and trying to devour tubs of ice cream before it melted completely. As much as they would never admit it, Damian and Tim were mouthing along to the lines of the cheesy films, or singing along to the songs. One of their guilty pleasures. Jason seemed engrossed in the movies too, surprisingly. Though you weren’t sure if he was pretending to be interested and was actually plotting the inconspicuous murder of your partner as revenge. The thought made you chuckle. The five of you stayed bundled up on the couch until slowly, one by one you began to drift off and your heartbreak had been forgotten for a few hours at least.

When Bruce arrived back from his late night patrol and found you all together, his heart warmed. They were always going to take good care of you.

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

for remus' roommate x sirius maybe their first fight?? and sirius comes groveling to the apartment and remus is just like you fucked up man

Thanks for requesting! Unsure how this ended up being lowkey wolfstar but y'know what we're rolling with it

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus opens the front door, sees Sirius on the other side, and promptly shuts it in his face.

Or he would, if Sirius weren’t so quick about wedging his shoe in the crack. The door closes on his toe unkindly.

“Ow! Moony, what if I was here to see you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus says primly. “We’re not speaking to you.”

“We?” Sirius sputters, trying to get his knee in the door to further wedge it open. “What’d I do to you?”

Remus ceases trying to close the door, but won’t let it move an inch in Sirius’ direction. “Don’t. We both know what you did.”

“I didn’t think it’d be that bad!”

“Guess you should have thought harder.” Remus shrugs indifferently, before giving Sirius’ knee a shove with the butt of his palm. Sirius reels, and Remus doesn’t wait to see if he hits the pavement before shutting the door and bolting it. He turns to find your head peeking out from your room down the hall.

“It’s him?” you ask quietly, as if afraid he’ll hear you. Which he most certainly can’t, not over the pounding he’s begun on your front door.

“Remus!” He’s shouting loud enough that Remus knows he’ll be hearing from the neighbors, but he doesn’t care. “Remus, let me in!”

“Yeah,” Remus answers unnecessarily. “It’s him.” You chew on your lip, and Remus’ heart turns heavy and made of mush. “Want me to get him to go away, love? I can take him back to his place.”

Your chewing worsens. Remus worries you’re going to tear the skin off your bottom lip. “I don’t want it to be a big deal,” you say, unsure. “God, I’m really sorry I let this happen. I never meant to make things weird between you and your friend.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Remus says, and he means it. He and Sirius will get past this eventually, no matter what happens between you, but for now, he’s alright with letting Sirius sit with the consequences of his fuckup. “Listen, I’m sure Sirius wants to talk, but he’ll leave if I tell him that’s what you want. Do you want me to tell him?”

You think for a second, then swallow. “No. No, I’d better talk to him. Thanks, though, Remus.”

Remus nods, your thanks far from necessary. “I’ll be in my room, then.”

You give him a grateful smile, strained as it is, before you head in opposite directions down the hall.

Remus hears the door open, and despite every nosy urge in him, he puts his headphones on before he can catch even the beginning of your conversation. He spends the next hour trying to study while actually just glancing toward the hall every five minutes, waiting to see if you’ll come talk to him. When the knock sounds on his door he all but hops up, a bit too eager, perhaps, to be updated on what’s happened. But when he opens the door, it’s not you on the other side.

“Oh,” he says to Sirius, deadpan. “You’re still here.”

“Always happy to see you too, Moons.” Sirius lets himself into Remus’ room, sitting on his bed. He’s trying to look relaxed, leaning back on his hands with his ankles crossed in front of him, but Remus can see the tension in him. His hair is fluffy like he’s been running his hands through it, and half the polish has been chipped off his nails. “Listen, Y/N’s forgiven me, so do you think you could too?”

Remus isn’t surprised; Sirius is charming, and you seem to really like him. He obviously really likes you too, which helps. Still, Remus has to consider it for a while. “Fine,” he decides. “But I’m not going to refrain from saying I told you so. You were an idiot.”

Sirius sighs, both relief and resignation in the sound. He lies back on Remus’ bed, hands resting on his stomach where they fiddle with his rings. “I was an idiot,” he admits.

“I told you it was too early to do pranks.”

“You told me.”

“Even James told you, which is how you know you were being extra thick.”

“I know.” Sirius brings a hand to his face, eyes squeezing closed as he pinches the top of his nose. “She said it’s alright, but I’m going to spend forever trying to make it up to her.”

“Good,” Remus says, sitting down beside him. He looks down the hallway, noting your closed door and the light that seeps through the crack beneath it. You’ve left them alone so Sirius could make his amends with his friend. You’re a sweetheart that way. Sirius can be a sweetheart too, but it takes a tender hand to bring it out of him. From what Remus can tell, you bring it out. When he next speaks, his voice is a bit softened. “She’s bolder when she’s around you, but that’s really the only time I really see her acting like that. She’s usually quite shy. You embarrassed her, Pads.”

“I know,” Sirius says again with a sigh. “I guess I just thought…” he cuts a wary look towards his friend. “Alright, don’t give me shit for this, but I thought I knew her better.”

“I am going to give you shit,” Remus decides. “You’re a prick for thinking that, and you should know it.”

Sirius groans. “I know it.”

Remus hums. “So how’re you gonna make it up to her?”

A sigh. “It’s gonna take awhile.” Remus nods, pleased that he’s at least bright enough to be aware of that. “I was planning on starting tonight. Do you know where she gets those pastries she likes from?”

Remus eyes him. “I do. But there’ll be a tax.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. “You’re covered, I’ve already got a pain au chocolat on my list. If she lets me, can I stay here tonight?”

Remus arches a brow. “You’re laying it on a bit thick. Think she’ll want you here?”

“I don’t know yet,” Sirius shrugs, and guilt hits Remus like a truck at the look on his friend’s face.

He keeps his tone as nonchalant as he can when he says, “Fine. If she lets you, you can stay. Just—” he grimaces “—nothing while I’m home, please.”

Sirius makes a face, and Remus scoffs.

“Oh, please, as if you’re so far above that. We used to be roommates too, don’t forget.” Sirius’ grin turns sheepish, and Remus rolls his eyes. “The bakery’s at the end of the block. They close soon, so hurry.”

“Thanks!” Sirius says, already halfway down the hall. He grabs his jacket from across the back of the couch and is gone.

Not five seconds pass before you’re peeking out of your room again. “Was that him leaving just now?”

“Yeah,” Remus answers you.

“Do you…do you know if he’s coming back?”

You’re all quiet hope, timid in Sirius’ absence but already lighter than you had been when Remus had last seen you. He smiles. “Yeah, he’s coming back. I don’t think we’ll be able to get rid of him for a while.”

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aliaology · 6 months

Text

BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY

summary: you used to date quinn, the relationship starting not long after him and his other ex broke up. she got mad, made drama about you, and in the end, it flared up by the time your relationship was long gone.

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: death threats

thin mints. god you loved thin mints, and currently you craved them. actually, you craved the nice memories they brought. the memories where your ex told you he would have some guy get some for you. he ended up being that guy.

quinn hughes. your favorite past lover who will continue to outshine the rest. he treated you well, made you happy. he was perfect.

bonding over the black eyed peas and the smiths was something you found to be hard when it came to other people. but with quinn, it was easy. he made love seem easy and effortless.

but the downside, was his ex. she was pretty, but they had broken up about three months prior to you and him hooking up and then ultimately getting together. no one necessarily knew of their breakup. they didn’t post pictures often of each other due to quinn living in vancouver and his ex living in michigan.

so everyone assumed they were fine, until quinn decided to hard launch your relationship. you were fine with it at first. it was innocent, like the cuddling on trampolines you guys loved to do.

but now you were being called a slut. at this very moment, you were being called a slut and getting death threats. at the time, you were getting the same treatment.

it seemed his ex put the idea that he cheated on her with you, into everyones head. and they believed it. they believed it because of the stereotype against hockey players. the stereotype against girl best friends.

but that didn’t stop your relationship. you were so into it. you were there for everything, even his brothers… until you weren’t. it wasn’t like you both ended on bad terms. in fact, you both ended things, stating it was better to stay friends.

then she released a song. a song where she practically tore you apart, tore you down. you were the hot topic on her tongue.

she painted you out to be the bad guy. the manipulator. the one who made him take you to bed. you were just trying to hold him close and love him.

the only win from the whole situation was the fact he called you his favorite love. that you would always be the favorite.

but to everyone, you were the slut. you didn’t have a choice in that matter. you were the homewrecker. all because you liked a boy.

ynusername

liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes and 625,737 others.

ynusername all because i liked a boy. coming out oct 14 (with permission). thinking of dating a boy with an ex? i wouldnt recommend it. especially if stuff happens after you had already broken up!

comments.

user and shes gonna eat 😜

user she alr did with ‘skin’ 🤭🤭

user DIE WHORE

_quinnhughes insanely proud of u y/n/n

ynusername thank u quinner 😪

jackhughes AND ALL OF THIS FOR WHAT⁉️⁉️⁉️

lhughes_06 WHEN EVERYTHING WENT DOWN WE’D ALREADY BROKEN UP 😱😱😱

user all hughes brothers being her no.1 supporters is so cute

jackhughes can i get you thin mints this time

jackhughes im exless!

jackhughes no im not but my ex forgot i exist!

jackhughes choose me instead!

_quinnhughes jack please this is embarrassing for u

jackhughes SHUT UP QUINN

user i cant tell if quinn is okay with this or not

ynusername he is 😭 me and him are best friends now and have no hard feelings or any romantic feelings towards one another anymore. plus jack will never have a chance 🤷‍♀️

user ITS GONNA BE A BOP LMFAO

user slut! homewrecker! cunt!

user banned!

user i love i live i laugh

user i alr know this will slap

trevorzegras @/jackhughes shes mine

user STOP.

user puckbunny ass bitch

user i know what im streaming when it comes out!

user i still prefer quinns ex over y/n

user then use her name instead of y/ns xx 😻

erm..! this lowkey sucks LMFAO

taglist (perm!) @hockeyboysarehot (just ask to be added for perm tags! <3)

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #nhl #quinn hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #hughes brothers #all because i liked a boy

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shewrites7 · 9 months

Text

The First Step

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary - The first thing you do when you get back to your hometown of Chicago is pay Carmen, your oldest friend and maybe more than that, a visit at The Beef. When you land yourself a job there, the more he sees of you, the more he seems to push you away for reasons he isn't yet brave enough to tell you, even if all he wants is to be with you. But if he'd ever known you, he'd know that you weren't going to back down without a fight.

type - one shot (its a long one)

word count [16.6k]

tags: Carmy Berzatto x f!reader, friends to lovers, pining, slight miscommunication, a little angst, "stop pushing me away", hurt/comfort, and new promises.

warnings: swearing, mentions of grief/death, panic attack

a/n: check this out also on my ao3! <33

Carmen was tired, to say the least. He'd been working himself to the bone every damn day for the past few months, trying to get The Beef to a good, stable place. Somehow, as time went by, he'd only managed to dig himself a deeper grave. With the money they owed to Cicero, he knew, deep down, that the restaurant was, for lack of a better word, fucked.

But he kept holding on. He couldn't let go of it. He'd wonder, in the depths of night, why he was fighting so hard for this place when he could easily sell it to Cicero. If, maybe, he was holding onto someone. He didn't amuse the thought. He physically couldn't.

So he threw himself deeper into his work. Deeper into making The Beef a reputable place, with a professional working staff and high-quality food. It didn't matter that the others looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. He didn't have the time to worry about that. He didn't have time for much of anything, which is why Sydney had been pushing for new hires. She'd said that they needed more hands in the kitchen, more workers up front, more of everything. They should be desperate.

That's why she'd spent hours putting up posters for new hires on what felt like practically every block of Chicago within a mile radius from the restaurant. And that's why you'd happened to stumble upon one of them while walking to a favorite pizza place of yours that you'd loved as a kid. It was one of the first things you'd planned on doing ever since you'd gotten back into the city. That and meeting up with some old friends who you'd missed with an ache in your chest. So, seeing the poster clinging to the utility pole saying that The Beef was hiring had your heart skip a little beat at the prospect of not only getting a job but seeing the people who had basically been your family growing up again.

It was a Friday morning when you'd stopped by The Beef, the rusted white sign sticking out like a sore thumb. A rush of aromas wafted against your nose when you walked in, and the front door made a jingling sound that was almost nostalgic.

No one was at the front register. In fact, you couldn't see anyone at all, only hear some muffled voices coming from the kitchen in the back. The voices grew louder as seconds went by, and you could tell they were shouts. The kitchen door then flew open, finally revealing the argument going on between two people, one being an unfamiliar woman in an apron, and the other being none other than Richie Jerimovich.

"Richie, I swear to God-"

"I already told you," came the booming voice of Richie, neither of them noticing your presence at the door. "Your foo foo plans for this place are not gonna fly, Sweetheart!"

With the way Richie was talking to her, you could see the woman's patience wearing thin as she rested a hand on her temple with shut eyes as he carried on. It was only when she reopened her eyes a few moments later that she noticed your presence.

"Hi," you said, making your way over to her. "I saw your poster, the one about looking for new hires-"

"Right, right." She offered a strained smile, stress seeming to stay with her. "I'm Sydney, you must be one of the job applicants?"

"Yeah, I'm-"

"A job applicant?" Richie's voice boomed through the room, his voice always projecting ten times louder than need be. You had to admit, you missed it. "F that bullshit, that's fucking Mars Bar!"

Sydney's eyebrows lowered at the shouted nickname, the one that the Berzattos had gifted you years ago after your favorite candy as a kid. You granted Richie a smile, him finally noticing you. "Nice to see you too, Richie."

He marched around the counter to engulf you in a bear-like hug that had you letting out a chuckled gasp from the impact, arms wrapping tightly around your back. He let go in a beat and slammed his hands down on the counter in excitement, always loud.

"Just wait till Carmy hears about his favorite girl being back, I swear to God."

Something fluttered through you at the mention of that name. Carmen's name. With a whirlwind of thoughts sifting through your mind, you almost missed the other name that Richie had called you, aside from Mars Bar. Carmy's favorite girl.

-----

Richie had barged into the kitchen with full vigor, slamming open the swinging door dangerously close to a nearby Tina.

"Cousin!" He moved through the different chefs' stations until he got to Carmen's, who was wrapped up in prepping and quite frankly had learned to tune out the sound of Richie's yelling for his own health. "Yo, Cousin!"

Richie boisterously grabbed a hold of Carmen's shoulders, rocking him a little and moving his hand that wielded a knife, cutting diagonally into beef he'd been pre-slicing.

"Shit," Carmen cursed, irritation forming. "What the hell is it, Cousin?"

Richie just laughed, a mind never paid to Carmen's annoyance. "Yea, you're pissed at me now, Carmy, but you're gonna think I'm pulling your dick when I tell you who's at the fucking register right now."

With a forever-present dull headache, Carmen sighed and shifted his focus to him, putting down his knife on the counter. He gestured a hand out to him. "Who's at the register, Rich-"

"The fucking love of your life, that's who!"

Richie gave Carmen a playful punch in the arm, but he remained unphased, a frown etched on his features. "See, what the fuck are you talking about? I don't have a love of my-"

"Two words, Cousin. Mars Bar."

Richie was right. Those two words really did do something to him.

"She- ... she's here?"

He rubbed his jaw, brain short-circuiting for a second as he tried to make sense of Richie's words. His eyes bore into Richie's never-serious ones, trying to grasp onto whether or not he was, just this one time. If he was messing with him, he didn't think he'd be able to take it.

"Yes, bro!" Yelled Richie, patting him on the back. "I swear to you. She's here, and hot as balls, too."

He squinted his eyes at him with a twinge of disgust, slightly shoving him to the side to get towards the door. He still didn't know if he believed it. You'd been traveling abroad on some grant that he, to be honest, didn't know much about. But you were doing great things. He couldn't guess why you'd come back to The Beef, of all places.

When he saw you through the window, he was lucky he was hidden behind the safety of the kitchen door because he couldn't control the way his body and mind froze at the sight of you. He took in the way your smile beamed out into the room as you spoke with Sydney, warm and unignorable, and he could've sworn something changed in the chemical makeup of his brain. Something that had his eyes widening and his feet planted in their place.

"What'd I tell you?" Richie's voice from behind him knocked him out of his trance. There was a smug, amused edge to his voice. "Now go and talk to her."

Carmen put a hand out, shooing him away. "I will. I just," he stopped, trailing off as he took in the way you truly seemed to glow after all the time spent away. He liked how it looked on you.

"Aww, don't tell me you're nervous now, Carm." Richie put his arms on Carmen's shoulders.

"Shut the fuck up." He shoved Richie off of him with a grimace, but his eyes never left you, jaw clenching as he followed your movements. "I'm not."

The pit in his stomach told him otherwise. He ignored the feeling, determined, and took in a breath before opening the kitchen door to the front of the restaurant, to where you stood.

At the sound of the door swinging open you finally turned your attention to him, lips coming to part with a subtle inhale that somehow left you feeling breathless.

"Carmen." You said his name with a grin, eyes lighting up, heart picking up its pace in your chest. You ran over for a quick, thoughtless hug that left his body partly on fire when you pulled away just as fast.

"Mars Bar." He uttered the old nickname endearingly, his voice cracking at the end of his words for some reason. He cleared his throat. "You're uh- you're here. In Chicago."

"Woah," Richie interrupted, coming in from behind, boisterous. "We've got a genius in The Beef, everybody!"

Sydney snorted from somewhere in the distance, but you couldn't even laugh because you'd been too busy staring at the way Carmen ran his hand through his golden hair that had been unruly since you were practically kids and still was.

"Yeah," you breathed, cringing at how awkward your voice sounded to your own ears. "I'm here."

The two of you held onto each other's gazes for a beat too long, scanning over the other wordlessly, taking in the changes that the years apart had brought.

"Well, uh," Carmen started, licking his lip to find strings of coherent words. "Do you wanna come into the office? Catch up?"

You nodded with a pleased tug of your lips. "Yeah, sure Carmen."

He nodded too and led the way, arm delicately resting on your upper back for a second in a way that left his fingertips buzzing, alive.

You entered the room after he did, the desk and walls littered with papers and sticky notes of different colors, an overload to the senses. It was stuffy, even with the door left open.

Before he turned to face you, he clumsily sorted some papers that'd been sitting on a wooden chair into stacks and pushed them onto the highest shelf above his desk so you could sit down, his white t-shirt slightly tugging upwards as he reached. Your eyes subtly followed the movement, eyes glancing steadily over a part of his lower abdomen that you felt alarmed at even sneaking a peak. That and the muscles that showed clearly from the short sleeves of his shirt.

God, you'd only been back in Chicago for a few days and your mind was already doing that thing it always did when you were around Carmen, like it didn't have the ability to think straight or act rationally when he was around.

"So, uh," Carmen started, turning his focus back to being one hundred percent on you. It became hard to concentrate when he did that, because he had the most piercing blue eyes you'd ever seen and you found over the years that they'd always had more than just one emotion swimming around in them. As you looked into them now, you still came up short in identifying them.

"What are you doing back in Chicago?" He looked at you like you were a puzzle, one he couldn't give up on solving. "Did the studies abroad finally start to bore you?"

"Yeah, they did," you joked, looking down at your lap. "Not really much to do in Europe compared to this place, you know?"

Carmen let out a wisp of a laugh, nodding, while also noting somewhere in the back of his mind that this was the first time he'd laughed in at least a few days. Your presence could always do that to him; Put him at ease when nothing else truly could.

"And, of course, I could only go so long being separated from the Berzattos."

He laughed again. That made twice. "Oh yeah?"

You nodded, playful in your words.

"I mean it." You did.

You let a comfortable silence nestle between the two of you, feeling the upward tug of your lips that you could only blame on Carmen. The thought left something alighted in your chest

"Seriously though." You say up a little straighter in your seat. "I guess the real reason I stopped by was because I was wondering if I could help out around here for a little while, now that I'm back home."

At this, the smile that had been resting on Carmen's face began to weaken.

"What?" His forehead creased, eyes dancing across your face with curiosity and disguised panic of his own.

Sensing his change in mood, you hurriedly continued. "I'll be home for a while and, you know, I just figured me getting a job here would be convenient and-"

"No."

You stopped mid-sentence, zeroing in on the man before you. "No?"

He had one hand leaning against the desk, the other's fingertips pressed to his forehead, head cast down, eyes evading yours.

"No, I- I'm sorry, Mars. We're ... we're not hiring right now. We don't need any new workers." At that, you frowned, taking in the tension in Carmen's stance and the tightness in his voice.

"I know The Beef is hiring right now, Carm." You gave him a disbelieving look. "In fact, I got the idea to work here from the flyers Sydney put up everywhere, so don't try and tell me you're not looking for new job applicants." You took a step closer to him, sensing something wrong and confused as to why he would lie, but he only seemed to be growing more agitated, shifting his posture upwards and no longer leaning on the table.

"That was a mistake, alright? I didn't ask her to do that. The Beef is doing perfectly fine, we don't need any extra help." Something sour was rotting in the undertones of his voice, the way he said the word help as if the thought of it was repellent.

"I didn't mean anything by asking. I ... I know you guys are doing fine, probably great even, I was just thinking that maybe I could-"

"We don't need any new fucking hires, Mars." He slammed his hand down on the desk, his tone raising so abruptly that it had you taking a step back in surprise.

When you looked up at him with alarm in your eyes, immediately his eyes began to soften, regret flooding through them. You held his gaze until those same eyes became taken over with this sudden guilt, almost sadness, flickering downwards towards his hands that moved to rest on his office desk, away from you.

You took a second to scan over the desk that was littered with papers and unsigned documents. It wasn't like Carmen to be unorganized, you knew that much. He had to be in a bad place to have his office look like this. Or, rather, Mikey's old office.

The room was a sensory overload, every inch of it a reminder of Mikey. Anyone would go crazy spending their days in here. Especially if that someone had been his little brother.

Carmen rubbed his hands over his face. You took a step next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder that lit aflame from the heat he gave off.

"For what it's worth," you started softly, and Carmen had to fight a shiver at how close your voice was to him. "I miss Mikey too."

He didn't make any movement to turn towards you, his jaw clenched and eyes still staring downwards. He didn't know what made you feel like you had to say that to him. He didn't need to look at you, though, to know you truly meant it.

"You can't work here," he said, his voice sounding defeated and a little far away. "I'm sorry."

Something restless in your heart was determined to make you fight back, figure out why Carmen was refusing you without a good reason. But something else inside of you softened at the way Carmen wouldn't meet your eyes, seeming guilt-stricken, and decided to back down. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder gave him a final squeeze.

You took your leave for the office door without Carmen moving an inch.

"Bye, Carm." Your voice was unfairly soft towards him, even if he felt like he didn't deserve the kindness that thrummed from your heart. "It was nice seeing you." You paused. "I've missed you."

Before he could turn to say goodbye, somehow communicate the 'I've missed you too' that he'd been meaning to express since he'd seen you, you had already turned down the hallway, out of sight. He knew for sure, then, that you didn't deserve that response from him. But he just didn't know how to tell you. How to explain without sounding ridiculous why alarms sounded in his brain at the thought of you working at The Beef.

He'd always known that you were destined for more than just the life you'd shared with him as kids, where you scored straight A's and were one of the top in your class. When you'd left for college while he stayed put, he didn't even let himself miss you, because he'd just wanted what was best for you. And when you furthered your studies even after college, traveling abroad, he knew that was the life you were meant for. To see you stopping all of that to work at The Beef, the place where his brother's dreams had become nothing but dead ends as time went on, wouldn't settle right inside of him.

Worst of all, he had visions of you working in the kitchen, behind the scenes where tensions were constantly overwhelming, of him losing his cool in front of you and you seeing a side of him he tried to keep you far away from. You'd always known the youngest brother Carmy, the world-class chef Carmy, the one who was at his best around you. He couldn't imagine what he would do if suddenly he revealed the Carmy he tried to hide; the Carmy who worked at The Beef, a bundle of unstable frustration who was barely hanging on, the Carmy who still didn't know how to live life without Mikey but who melted from your touch, who wanted more from the girl who'd been at his side for so many years as nothing but a friend, and a great one. He couldn't risk losing that.

Especially not with the condition of The Beef at the moment, which needed his full focus. Having you around would definitely not allow for that. So he convinced himself that this was for your own good. For his own good.

When you rounded the corner back out into the front of the restaurant, Richie was still there behind the counter, holding a phone to his ear.

You smiled at him a little tiredly and silently waved goodbye, walking towards the door.

Richie frowned, removing his focus from the phone call. "Where the hell are you leaving to so fast?" You spun around. "Don't tell me Carmy scared you off already."

You laughed awkwardly and thought of what to say, but must have taken too long to answer because Richie's face was already contorting with an over-the-top grimace.

"What'd that moron say to you, huh?"

You put a hand out, trying to calm him. "Richie, it's nothing, really-"

He was already stalking off towards the office, muttering something about 'killing Carmen'. You shook your head to yourself, because you knew how headstrong both of them were, and turned towards the exit. And, as you finally opened the glass door to leave, you could hear yelling and shouted vulgar words coming from the office. You didn't stay long enough to listen.

You didn't know what to think when it happened. You'd been sitting at home all weekend, alone, and honestly truly bored and wondering if coming back home was the right choice when your phone started ringing. You checked the screen and it was an unknown caller, but boredom had you picking it up anyway.

Mars Bar!

"Hello? Who is this?"

It's me.

"..."

Richie.

"Ohh ... right. How did you get my number again?"

I asked around. Anyways, it doesn't matter. I'm supposed to be telling you that you're gonna start work tomorrow.

"What? Start work? Where?"

At The Beef. C'mon Mars catch up with me here.

"Sorry, I'm just ... confused. Carmen told me you guys weren't hiring and that he couldn't give me a job?"

Oh, that. Don't worry about Carmy. I set that moron straight.

"What are you saying?"

I'm saying, you got the job kid!

"Richie, are you fucking with me right now?"

No! Why does everyone always think I'm fucking with them? I'm fucking serious hon.

"Okay, okay! I ... I believe you. I think."

You better! Carmy is really fucking stoked to have you work here, I mean it.

"He ... he is?"

Sure! So I better see your ass Monday morning, capeesh?

"Y-yea I guess so."

Your heart really should not have fluttered the way it did when Richie told you that Carmen was supposedly excited to see you. He hadn't sounded like it when you'd brought it up to him. In fact, he seemed strangely opposed to the idea, like you'd hit a sensitive area.

You weren't sure if you could really believe Richie. Like you'd always known, Carmen was stubborn as hell. The change of heart was unexpected, to say the least. You didn't know what to think. You still didn't know, as you walked through the front entrance of The Beef the next day, ready to start work. The only person to greet you at the front was Richie, standing behind the counter, per usual.

"Cousin!" He gestured you over. You greeted him back and rounded the corner to stand behind the counter next to him, unused to the feeling after spending years on the other side of it.

Richie spent at most two minutes giving you a rundown of what you'd be doing at The Beef, merely distracted by some yelling in the kitchen. The brief directions consisted mostly of taking orders and ringing a bell. A real challenge.

"Yeah, so that's basically it." He gave you a pat on the back and your front almost hit the counter at the impact.

"No paperwork or formalities or anything?" You were almost suspicious of the fast speed at which this had all happened. Richie whipped his head around like you'd stated something crazy.

"Formalities? C'mon, what are we, the fucking White House? This is a family business, Cousin."

He patted you on the shoulder roughly. "Thanks, Richie," you said, both slightly amused and slightly unnerved. You tapped your fingers on the marble countertop, trying to seem casual. "Where's um ... where's Carmy?"

Richie scratched his head. "He's, uh, he's busy. He'll be out soon. Don't you worry, shortcake." He gave you a wink that you didn't know what to do with and turned back towards the kitchen. You were gonna have to talk to him about those nicknames in the workplace sooner or later.

You called out to him before he left into the kitchen, hesitant. "You're sure Carmen said he wants me to work here, right?"

Your eyes bore into Richie's for a moment, and it was almost like you could see the thoughts in his head visibly swarming about. His shoulder raised. "Well, he didn't exactly say he wanted you to, but anyone with fucking eyes can see that he wants you-"

"Richie!" Your jaw hung open in utter annoyance and bafflement. He frowned at you.

"What?"

You almost scoffed. "Did Carmen really not say it was okay for me to work here?" You looked around, bewildered. "Does he even know I'm here?"

Richie gestured his hands out to you. "Sure he does!"

You could tell just from his tone what your answer was. You put a hand on your hip, shaking your head to yourself. "I'm going in there to talk to him."

"No!" Richie's eyes widened. "No. Just calm down, and I'll talk to him."

You stared at him disbelievingly. He stared back at you challengingly with the confidence only Richie could have. "I'll be back in no time. I know what I'm doing, trust me."

Richie didn't know what he was planning on doing when he opened the door to the kitchen in search of Carmen. He just hoped he wasn't using a knife when he found him.

He turned a few corners before Carmen was in his line of view, hunched over the counter as he worked busily on something Richie couldn't see. He leaned against the counter next to him, watching Carmen as his focus didn't even falter.

"Carm."

He didn't get a reply, just the back of Carmen's head as he focused on reading the piece of paper in front of him, hand braced against the shining surface it lay on.

"Carmy."

The man in question slowly shifted his focus to the man next to him, whose distracting presence had become impossible to ignore. "What? What is it?"

Richie peered down at him. "Promise that you won't get mad."

Carmen's eyes narrowed. "What the hell did you do?"

"Just promise me you won't fucking blow up at me like you always do."

"Why would I promise that if I don't even know what the hell you did?"

Richie tipped his head back exasperatedly. "Just say you promise!"

"I fucking promise! Okay?" Carmen ran a hand through his hair, moving it again to cross his arms. "Now, what is it?"

Richie paused, kicking out his foot and casually peering down at it with feigned interest. "Mars Bar is outside right now. Again."

Carmen's forehead creased and he looked over at Richie with sudden alarm. "What? Why? Is she okay?"

Richie gave him a knowing look, smug for a moment. "Yeah, she's fine." He shrugged. "I just, um, might have given her a job here up at the register."

Carmen's face was unmoving, his tone raising with poorly hidden anger. "You what?"

"And I might've also told her you really wanted her to work here."

Carmen's eyes scanned Richie's sporadically like he couldn't process his words fast enough. "Wh- Why the fuck would you do that? I already told her no-"

"Yeah, and I told her yes. Because you're an idiot and I'm saving your ass. You're welcome!"

Carmen ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly. "For what? Fucking me over?"

"I did not fuck you over, Carm, I'm doing this for you!"

Carmen shook his head, anger bleeding its way through his mind. "What the hell are you talking about? I told you, Richie, I don't want her anywhere near this place. I- I thought that was understood."

"No, it was not fucking understood because it was a stupid idea." Carmen let out a scoff as Richie put his hands out to Carmen in a calming gesture. "This is a good thing, trust me."

Carmen sputtered. "How the fuck is it-"

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me, Carm!" Richie shouted, bravely putting a hand up in front of Carmen's face. He pointed his finger at him which Carmen regarded with annoyance. "You need to stop being a moron and pushing away every single fucking female that tries to come within ten feet of you, alright?"

Carmen's brows furrowed even further, confusion building alongside anger. "I really have no goddamn idea what your point is here, Richie, but this has nothing to do with-"

"Oh spare me, Cousin!" He shouted. "We all know you've had the hots for Mars Bar over there since you were kids, alright?"

Carmen's mouth clamped shut immediately at this, his breathing coming out in fumes. He shook his head back and forth.

"Is this what this whole fucking thing is about, you jagoff?"

"Woah woah woah!" Richie cut in. "I am not the jagoff here, Cousin. I'm helping you out!"

"Richie's right, Carm," cut in Fak from behind, appearing suddenly out of nowhere like he always seemed to.

"Shut the fuck up, Fak!" Carmen held his head in his hand, trying to grab hold of his temper that he could feel slipping out of control. He needed to breathe.

"She can't work here."

Richie raised his arms in a shrug. "Well, you're gonna have to go tell her that yourself."

"I fucking will."

Carmen stormed off towards the kitchen door, ready to tell you yet again that you had to leave, a daunting thought overlooked thanks to adrenaline. Richie chuckled from behind him. "Yeah right, like you're gonna fire her."

Carmen didn't let himself listen to Richie any longer. Fists clenched at his sides, he opened the door and there you were, standing there, looking confused and a little surprised with parted lips.

Richie came up from behind and patted him on the back. "Go on, Carm. Tell her." You watched as Carmen's jaw clenched.

Carmen really wanted to tell you that you couldn't work here. That you had to go home. That you had to run far away from this place and go back to studying abroad and being more successful than any of them and all of that bullshit. Maybe it was because your eyes were shining a little too bright in the restaurant lighting, or that they looked a little too hopeful as they stared back at him with raised brows, waiting. But he didn't say anything of those things.

"You..." he started. Your eyebrows raised further. His palms suddenly became sweatier. He took a breath in.

"You, um," a beat passed. He licked his lip. "You're gonna need an apron."

Your eyes lit up even more if possible, and he thought his heart would give out. Then, you ran up and threw your arms around his neck in a tight hug, and he genuinely questioned if his brain had short-circuited because, by the time he came back to reality, you'd already pulled away and were practically jittering with excitement from in front of him.

"Thank you so much, Carm." Every time you smiled at him in that way he felt himself lose a bit of control. He didn't like the feeling. "You won't regret it."

He smiled back at you because he couldn't not. He wasn't so sure.

Carmen had given you your apron. When he'd handed it to you, you'd brushed fingers and your heart skipped a little beat at the contact. That had been the most eventful thing to occur within the next four days.

You'd done practically nothing at The Beef all week. There'd been a noticeable lack of customers coming into the restaurant to take orders, and those who did oftentimes came in just to see Richie, which had you leaning against the counter waiting and listening to their loud conversations with the man.

It felt like there was some sort of prank being played on you. Surely they wouldn't pay you money for doing absolutely nothing. All the waiting around doing close to nothing made you antsy, frustrated, and confused.

You'd been meaning to address this to Carmen, to ask what you were doing wrong, but getting a hold of him was near impossible. You'd seen so little of Carmen that you couldn't even be sure he came into work most days, the only confirmation being his shouts coming from the kitchen at the others. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you became jealous of them. You'd take Carmen shouting orders at you in the kitchen any day over him saying nothing to you at all. It almost felt like he was avoiding you.

It was a Thursday night, and the antsy feeling inside of you had you staying late at work that night, wiping down tables with an intense amount of fervor.

You'd thought you were the last one in The Beef. It'd been dark for hours, but you had nobody and nothing exciting waiting for you at home, so working a little extra couldn't hurt. And, if it made Carmen notice your position at The Beef at least a little bit, it would be worth it.

As your thoughts drifted to the man, something made a noise from the kitchen, and it became apparent to you that maybe you weren't the only one working late that night.

"Hello?" You'd said aloud, your voice slightly echoing in the vacant restaurant. No response was returned. You slowly went back to scrubbing down a table against the far wall from the kitchen door when it swung open, and there stood Carmen Berzatto in his patchwork wool jacket, looking like seeing you was the last thing he'd expected.

The sight was jarring to you for a number of reasons. You jumped up speedily and tucked the rag you'd been using to clean tables slightly behind you as if he hadn't already seen you using it.

"Mars Bar?" He said, the nickname falling easily from his lips like it was the only one he'd ever known you by. He eyed your tense stance.

"Hey, Carmen." Your smile was just as unnatural. His eyebrows pulled downward at you, eyes squinting and blinking confusedly in the dim lighting like he was fighting sleep.

"What are you doing here so late?" You nibbled at your own lip. Carmen, even from across the room, made sure to follow the movement. You noticed him eye the rag in your hands.

"I was just cleaning off some of the umm ... some of the tables." You didn't know why you sounded so embarrassed. You also didn't know what was going through Carmen's mind as he looked over you, and then over the spotless tables behind you.

"Wow," he began, running a hand through his hair. "You really didn't have to do all this. It's not ... it's not part of your job, you know?" A feeling bitter and stale simmered inside of you.

"I know." You stood up straighter. "Maybe I just wanted to.

You wanted to say more in the moment, tell him all of your frustrations, but you didn't. You just stared back at him and watched as he walked towards where you stood by the tables. You didn't move an inch.

His eyes surveyed the tops of the tables and he marveled at how clean they were. Not just clean, but almost sparkling, even in the low lighting that came from a single overhead lamp and the streetlights from outside.

"You did a great job, Chef."

Your eyebrows raised unintentionally. He'd never called you that before, though you'd heard the name from his lips aimed at others countless times. He noticed your reaction.

"What?" He asked, eyeing you curiously. He leaned back against the table next to you, his beautiful stare almost becoming a little too much for you after a long day. You shrugged.

"Nothing. It's just," you paused, "you've never called me that before."

His expression was slightly confused, slightly amused. "Well," he began, gaze shifting from the ground to you. "Now I do. You work here, don't you?"

The question settled uncomfortably in your chest, and you let out a laugh that sounded just as strained. "Hardly."

Carmen's eyebrows flashed downwards in a quick frown. "What do you mean 'hardly'?" You felt his eyes scanning your face, scanning you. "What's up?"

You went back to rubbing at the corner of a nearby table with your rag if only to distract yourself from Carmen's gaze and the petty way your words sounded coming from your lips.

"I mean," you began. "It feels like I haven't really done much of anything around here, you know?" When he didn't say anything back, you continued. "I've only taken a handful of customer's orders in the past couple of days. And, I know I'm not the best cook in the world but I could definitely help out in the kitchen with something. Maybe I could cut up some stuff, or prep it, or whatever you guys call it. Anything, really."

He didn't say anything right away, and you became horrified that you'd pushed his buttons too many times in the last week with your rants and that he'd finally send you on your way once and for all. Then, you heard something like a laugh come from him. You reeled back.

"Is something funny?" You asked, your tone uncharacteristically sour. He silenced his amusement and looked at you intently.

"You've always been such an overachiever, Mars."

You paused, then shook your head. "Oh please, we all know you're the ambitious one."

"No, not when we were kids," Carmen argued. "I was never great in school. You, on the other hand," he chuckled under his breath. "My mom would have me go check in on you whenever we hadn't heard from you on a night before a test. Make sure you weren't overdosing on coffee and pop."

You swore you could feel your heart beating in your chest at Carmen's revelation and the fondness in his voice.

"You know," Carmen began again, getting lost in memories. "I think my mom used to have this theory I'd marry you one day or something. Said you were the only girl who'd put up with my stubbornness."

Oh my God. Your head was spinning. Why was he saying this? He didn't know what the hell he was doing to you. Or your heartbeat, which was concerningly gaining speed. He never did.

All you could say was, "Oh?"

He laughed some more like this was something casual, something funny. You couldn't help but notice that forever present weight present in his eyes, though. Something he could never seem to shed.

"Yeah, well," Carmen began again, "my mother has also been mentally unstable for years, so." He jokingly trailed off, his voice dying in the silence, along with any butterflies you'd felt. You laughed quietly, even if laughing was the last thing you wanted to do when hearing that.

You felt like you were being suffocated. By him and his blue eyes and his dry, self-deprecating jokes and the small quirk of his lips. You were also getting restless because you'd started off trying to talk with Carmen about your job, and now were getting lost in the haze of your feelings for him which you decided were useless and would get you nowhere. You cast them aside the best you could and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Carmen," you said. His attention focused directly on you. "Did you listen to any of the things I said about working here?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he assured you. "Of course."

"So, will you take them into consideration? Let me do more, Carmen. I can do more."

There was a beat of silence. He fidgeted, like he did when he was a boy and couldn't focus in class, or when he was nervous around a girl he'd liked. Nervous around you.

He wanted to say yes. Hell, he would've given you anything you'd asked for just to see you happy. But he didn't know what the consequences of giving you a more important role at The Beef would achieve. What it might stop you from achieving. What it might do to him. So, he didn't say anything. Not anything direct.

"I know you can, Mars." He exhaled and then put his hands in his pockets, eyes cast down. He glanced at his watch. "It's almost midnight. We can talk about this more in the morning. Okay?"

His response was like a smack in the face. A sharp pain that left a dull ache. You let a breath out and tried to keep your face from revealing your stubborn frustration. You slowly nodded. "Okay."

Even if you tried to contain your emotions, Carmen could see it. He noticed it in the quick flare of your nostrils as you breathed, in the slight clench of your jaw. Stupidly, he asked, "Is that okay?"

You weren't looking at him. You were looking at your feet. You tapped your foot once. "Yes."

Even more stupidly, he asked, "Are you sure?"

You finally shifted your focus to him and he felt his own jaw clench at the way it sent a rush down his spine.

"Yeah, Carmen." That was the first time he didn't like the way you said his name.

"Alright," he said, nodding slowly, lifting his bag higher on his shoulder.

"Alright."

You lifted the rag from the table, stood there for a second, and walked towards the counter, where you wrung it out and slapped it down into a bucket full of other dirty rags, and left it there. You didn't feel much like putting it away.

Carmen hadn't moved and just stood there by the tables, watching as you collected your coat from behind the counter and turned off the lights as you walked past.

When he saw you walking towards the door, he rushed to get there first, to open it for you. You beat him to it, opening it yourself. He closed it and locked the door behind him. You both were engulfed by the dull chill of the air right away, and you couldn't help but shiver.

Carmen turned to you. "Let me drive you home." He didn't dare offer you a lighthearted smile or anything of that sort. He didn't think he had it in himself to be lighthearted, anyways.

You gifted him a polite one with a short tug of your lips. "I have a car. Thanks."

Carmen could've smacked himself right there. "Right." He didn't know what was wrong with him. "Sorry." The apology was for more than just his assumption, but he couldn't bring himself to clarify.

"I'll walk you to your car then?" He asked, though you knew no matter what you said he'd make sure you'd get to your car safely either way.

"Okay, yeah."

You both turned to walk to your car, Carmen letting you take the lead for a moment before catching up to walk side by side with you. You were hit with the reality that Carmen Berzatto was walking you to your car, alone with you, at midnight. A small gesture that had your mind buzzing from the contrast between your love for him and your frustration with him. Nobody had come close to making you feel the emotions Carmen made you feel, even if no words were shared between both of you on that short walk. It felt completely silent. Somehow, even if the streets of Chicago were anything but, it felt silent.

Carmen thought about how his life was full of silent moments, never saying what he truly wanted to, to the people he wanted to speak to the most. When he noticed you were cold, even through your jacket, he walked a little closer to you. Whether you noticed it or not, he didn't know, but at least it soothed a small part of his mind that was blaring that night, telling him that he'd fucked up with you. That you deserved better. He couldn't help but think that same thing when he was around you, all the time.

You'd both crossed the street to reach your car in not even a full minute, but the walk had felt eternal to you. When you turned to Carmen to tell him goodnight, he was already looking at you intently. You wanted to ask what he was thinking, but you didn't, and unlocked your car.

"See you in the morning, Carmen," you said, tone unrevealing. He gave you his best neutral smile.

"Yeah. See you, Mars."

You went to open your car door, but this time he beat you to it. Even if he made you angry, he was still Carmen.

You watched as he rounded the front of your car back to the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, soft breathing visible in the cold from the white puffs it made in the air as he breathed.

You gave him one last wave as a goodbye, but by that time he was pretty much out of vision, and then drove away.

He watched your car drive down the street, stop at the light, turn the corner, and then glide out of view.

Immediately, he knew he should've said more on the walk to your car. He should've at least apologized. He didn't tell you that he was sorry for being so shitty. He didn't tell you he appreciated everything you did. He also didn't tell you his car was parked on the opposite end of the street.

And as he walked back to it, crossing The Beef again with its spotless tables, he thought about nothing except you.

The next morning had you waking up with a headache that only worsened when you stepped foot into The Beef. Your coworkers were shouting and blurting out orders in typical kitchen lingo that you honestly didn't fully understand.

There seemed to be an underlying tension simmering in the air that morning that had everyone's voices raised just a little bit more than usual, echoing through to you from your designated spot behind the front counter.

You figured out soon that that tension came from the review of The Beef that had been put in the paper the night before. It was the same topic that had Sydney and Richie arguing back and forth for minutes on end next to you.

"So this is a war on poor people?" You heard Richie ask as you finally tuned back into their yelling. "I see you."

"No," Sydney yelled back. "This is a war on you shutting the fuck up and learning how to use the tablet! The end dude."

"What is the end?"

You turned to your left to see Carmen stride out of the kitchen, looking every bit intense, shoulders hunched and rigid. He glanced at you in some form of a greeting for only a second before putting himself between Richie and Sydney and somewhat settling their argument.

"Are we ready?" He asked them with a rushed tone.

"No!" Sydney snapped, but headed back into the kitchen with Richie, even if you could see she wanted to punch the man in the face.

You turned back around to watch Carmen as he hurriedly ran a hand through his hair and started to rush back into the kitchen. You tried to catch his eyes, but he didn't meet your gaze.

"Um, Chef?" You tried to call, reaching out an arm to get his attention just a hair too late, him brushing past you without taking notice of you.

"Carmen?" This time he turned around, head flipping around to focus on you with eyes shot wide in the rush.

"What's up?" He asked, eyes quickly assessing your face. For a second you forgot what you were supposed to be asking.

"Did you, um, think about what I said last night?" He blinked back at you. "You said we'd talk about it in the morning, so, could we maybe talk about it?"

With the way he stared back at you, for a second you could've sworn he'd forgotten what you were talking about. Then, it had clearly dawned on him and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, holding out a hand to his head.

"No, yeah, right." He thought for a second, and then looked around, peeking into the kitchen, attention clearly spread elsewhere.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Can we just ... talk about this another time?"

You tried not to show your frustration. "Like when?"

"Uh," Carmen started, but he was already backing into the kitchen. A loud clanging noise of pots and pans rang through to the front, and his focus was completely lost. "Who the fuck keeps denting my pans, Chefs?!" He shouted. He threw the kitchen door open and moved to go inside, but not before calling out "We'll talk later, Chef!" and disappearing into the kitchen.

You groaned. "Later," could mean any time between that day and Easter. You didn't want to blame Carmen. You knew he was extremely busy and tended to overwork himself. But something in the back of your mind told you he was avoiding you. You didn't like the feeling.

It'd only been maybe an hour into the day when all hell started to break loose in the kitchen. At least from what you could hear. There was three times as much yelling as usual and people were weaving through the station by the front counter and the kitchen, shouting sandwich orders. Meanwhile, you felt lost and unhelpful, with no direct answer as to what was going on.

You'd spent your time filling up the napkin dispenser and cutting green tape, feeling your uselessness in your bones. Maybe Carmen was right. Maybe you were overly ambitious. That didn't change the fact that now it seemed like not just Carmen, but everyone else had gone out of their way to keep you away from the kitchen.

You'd thought about going in there anyway, but thought better of it when listening to the commotion. That was, until you saw Marcus with his bags taking his leave towards the exit, a look of both anger and defeat on his face.

"Woah, Marcus," you called out with furrowed brows. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

He let out a quick breath from his nose that sounded like it was supposed to be a wry laugh. He pointed towards the back. "Anywhere but in that kitchen." You frowned and he shook his head. "He's losing his shit, man."

You were confused and looked to him for more of an explanation, but he was already walking out the door and it didn't seem like he had any plans of coming back. You wanted to ask him "who?", but you had a sinking feeling in your gut telling you that you already knew just who he meant.

That and the loud "Fuck!" that came from the other side of the wall was the last push you needed to finally storm into the litchen. As soon as you walked in, it was a complete overload to your senses. The sounds and smells of sizzling food, the clunky buzzing of timers, and an argument at practically every corner. What had you reeling to a stop, though, was the sight of Carmen shouting truly throat-tearing orders, face turning red with exertion, hair damp from sweat, skin gleaming in the sight.

"Can somebody get me a Sharpie that fucking works?!" he screamed while whipping a Sharpie out of his hand and onto the ground. Your eyes widened at the sight.

"Woah," you said aloud, not even meaning to say the word but being unable to stop yourself. When you did, Carmen's focus switched onto you in a second and you could see the pure chaos held behind his eyes.

"Wh- what the fuck are you doing in here?"

You frowned at his abruptness. "I just wanted to know what the hell is going on in here-"

"Nothing is going on in here."

Someone laughed from around the corner and about three more timers began to buzz and beep.

"Oh please, I've been hearing screaming for hours and then I see Marcus storming out of here with his things saying you've lost it."

At that, Carmen paused, eyes searching yours intently. "Marcus left?"

"Yeah," you answered steadily, unsure of how exactly he'd react. "It looked like he was quitting."

For a second, it looked like Carmen felt guilty, sad, but then he was fuming and slamming his hands down on the counter.

"Fuck!" He shook his head back and forth like he was rummaging through a thousand thoughts swirling around his head. He shouted again. "Fuck!"

You didn't like the sight before you, or the way Carmen seemed to be losing control of himself, and quickly. "Now can you tell me what the problem is?" You almost pleaded. "I could help."

Carmen hardly bothered to look you in the eyes and strode past you to reach the oven you'd been standing by, lifting the lid of a pot and adjusting the heat at lightning speed.

"You're not seriously ignoring me right now when I'm offering to help-"

He put up a hand. "I told you I'd talk with you later, Mars. Go back to the register."

You scoffed. "What the hell are you talking about? That's-" you shook your head. "I'm not leaving until I at least know what the fuck is going on."

"You wanna know what the fuck is going on?" Richie shouted out, laughing to himself loudly as he appeared from behind the corner. "Some moron left the pre-order option open on her beloved tablet overnight and now we're 250-something beefs behind schedule!"

Your head was spinning from the news and from the lack of air in the kitchen, but the yelling kept coming.

"Okay, well, the 'moron' is right here and she has a name, thank you," cut in Sydney, livid. "And there is no fucking way you are putting all the blame on me right now, Richie-"

"Who else's fucking fault is it sweetheart?"

"Richie, I swear to God if you call me that one more time-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Carmen's booming voice split the two of them apart. "Shut the fuck up and get back to work!"

They listened and went back to their stations angrily mumbling to themselves. That didn't change the fact that you knew the kitchen was in deep shit and Carmen was one wrong move away from losing his mind. You watched as he stormed around the kitchen to different stations. You'd be an idiot if you just stood at the register waiting for more nonexistent orders.

"Sydney," you called out as she passed by. "What can I do to help?"

She raised the corners of her lips in a slightly surprised smile and thought for a second.

"You can probably start by helping me with peeling these potatoes for now." She handed you a basket filled with potatoes and pointed towards a metal peeler on the counter. You quickly nodded.

"Okay, on it, Chef."

"Great. Oh, and-"

"Sydney, what the fuck are you doing?" yelled Carmen as he rounded the corner behind Sydney. He glanced angrily back and forth between you and the potatoes in your hands.

Sydney rolled her eyes. "What does it look like I'm doing, Chef? I'm getting us some very much necessary extra help."

"We don't need any fucking extra help right now!"

Sydney turned fully to face him. "Carmy what the fuck is your problem right now? Just let her fucking peel some potatoes!"

Carmen was breathing heavily, a vein in his neck visibly contracting."I told you guys she stays out front. I told everyone she's not supposed to-"

"Excuse me?" You asked, cutting in. He was talking about you like you weren't standing right behind Sydney, hearing his every shouted word. "Sydney's right. You need to stop getting so worked up about this!"

Carmen looked like he wanted to scream. To break out into shouts even louder than even those from this morning. You'd only seen Carmen worked up like this a few times before and even then he knew when he was taking things too far.

He didn't say anything back to you and just turned away.

"Someone just get her out of here!" He hollered, to anyone who'd listen. Anyone but you. Somehow, that was even more angering than his yelling.

"Hey!" You yelled, shoving his shoulder back to turn him to face you. He glanced down towards the same shoulder before looking back towards you. You saw something haughty flash behind his eyes as they stared back at you. "Whatever you need to say about me, you can say it to me, Carmen."

He was definitely speaking to you now.

"I need you to stay the fuck out!" He pointed a finger down at you. "You never fucking listen to me! I gave you this job because you fucking asked me to, because Richie fucking asked me to. So how about you finally listen to me and stay the fuck out?!"

You knew everyone had stopped to watch. It was quieter in the kitchen than it had been all morning.

You both stood standing there with heavy breathing. Your mind couldn't think of what to say back in that moment, but a thousand different responses played through your mind. Things you wanted to ask, to shout, to make sure he understood.

Your stare bore into Carmen's own for a few seconds, noticing the anger in them, but also something fragile threatening to shatter and reveal itself. He looked away from you quickly, bracing a hand on the counter.

"Leave, Chef." He said. You didn't need to be asked twice. Not that he was asking.

"Yeah," you laughed under your breath. You untied your apron and left it on the counter. "I definitely will."

He could call you Chef, but he wouldn't even let you enter the kitchen. He could yell at you, but he couldn't even look you in the eyes as you finally left the kitchen.

Another timer went off in the background as Carmen stood there, mulling over what he'd just done in his head; the one thing, most of all, he didn't want to happen.

Sydney shook her head, brushing past him. "Carmen Berzatto, you are a fucking idiot."

He didn't have anything to say, nothing to argue back with. He knew she was right. And as he heard the front door jingle as a sign of you leaving, he also knew just how badly he'd fucked up.

You didn't come to work the next day, or the day after that. Carmen never got to listen for the jingle of the doorbell as you came into work. He didn't get a single glimpse of you, those glimpses that were like caffeine shots, keeping him going every day. He didn't see your warm, familiar eyes that reminded him why he kept going in the first place. This was what he got for trying to keep you at arm's length. For being an asshole. The regret knawed at him painstakingly.

When the first hour went by and you didn't show up, he didn't need anyone to tell him that you wouldn't come into work that day. He had Richie cover the register in your place, an order shouted quickly as he was forced to think about things other than you. And as the day went on, the fact that he didn't know when he'd see you again was a heavy weight that lay in his chest, waiting to be addressed.

You awoke that morning in your apartment, phone lighting up beside you on your bedside table to four missed calls all from the same person. A person you didn't really feel like talking to much.

You checked the time and saw it was almost noon. It wasn't like you to sleep in. And, you hadn't called in sick to work. Not that it mattered.

The next day went the same. You hadn't called in sick that morning either, but you didn't have it in you to care. You didn't even know if you wanted to come back, but there was a twisting feeling inside of you that you knew wouldn't feel release until you settled things with Carmen. The hard part would lay in being upfront with him, not letting him make any excuses, and not letting yourself soften all because he was Carmen Berzatto. A battle between your pride and whatever you felt for him.

Carmen had called you two more times, but soon, the calls stopped coming. Carmen may have been an asshole at times, but he wasn't an idiot. In fact, he was extremely smart. And definitely smart enough to know that calling you repeatedly would get him nowhere, not when he'd been as awful as he had.

You'd spent the day driving around running errands that left you tired with boredom. The sun was setting as you walked back to your own front door, the air crisp and clear from the cold while your mind felt anything but. You reached your front doorstep and unlocked the entrance to your apartment, only to step forward and feel something crunch and mash underneath the heel of your shoe. You lifted your foot and glanced downward.

A candy bar. You peered down further. A Mars Bar.

Something inside of you paused. Maybe your heartbeat, maybe your thoughts. You weren't sure but you could feel it. The now half-smushed candy bar lay on the floor like a bittersweet memory.

You blinked. There was a note. It looked like it had been torn from the corner of something messily. More importantly, there was writing on it, in pencil, words pressed hard into paper.

I'm an asshole. You don't deserve that.

No name, but you knew who it was from. Not a "sorry" in sight, but you knew he was trying. You could almost feel the intent behind the words etched into the paper as you held it. You wanted to be furious still. And you definitely were mad. But maybe not as much. Because you knew Carmen.

You knew he had the temper of someone who'd just lost a brother, of someone who'd grown up in a screaming Berzatto household in the heart of Chicago. You'd never taken his outbursts to heart and you didn't want to now. Besides. You knew, eventually, you'd miss him too much to ignore him.

So much for not giving in to Carmen Berzatto.

You didn't really know what plan you had when you walked back towards your car, sat down, placed the chocolate bar and note in your bag, and drove. You didn't think you had one. You just were aware that your days away from The Beef had been extremely boring and that you wanted to see Carmen. To hear what he had to say to you. Even if it didn't end the way you wanted.

The familiar path to The Beef stretched before you now as an uncertain one. When you got there, you tossed your bag over your shoulder and got out of your car to the sight of the lights off in the front of the restaurant. But, if you knew anything about Carmen, you knew he'd stay late. Your assumption was proven right when you entered through the unlocked door—a slightly concerning fact—and saw the harsh white light of the kitchen flooding through to the rest of the place.

You hesitated to enter, not sure if you really knew what you were doing, but ignored the thoughts plaguing you and walked carefully into the kitchen, waiting at the door when you saw him.

He faced mostly away from the door, from you, hunched over the counter doing something that had his full focus, enough of it that he didn't notice you at first. You saw he had a toothbrush in hand and that he was determinedly scrubbing at the silver countertop surface that already sparkled spotlessly. Clearly, he didn't notice or care.

It felt like you were holding your breath as you watched him, saw how focused he was, how the muscles in his back flexed and churned with each precise movement he made as he scrubbed at a nonexistent stain. Like he held a desire to erase more than just grime.

He did that for what felt like another minute without pause, and you watched the whole time wordlessly, not wanting to break the focus he had and not knowing what to say regardless. Part of you just wanted to watch him, to see how long he could keep at it without noticing you. It wasn't for too long.

He lifted his posture upright and ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply with little exhale as if something weighty was plaguing him. Then, he finally sensed your presence at the doorway, eyes flicking towards you as his moments came to a halt. You watched him part his lips as he thought about what to say.

He shakenly said your name, a fragile plea. The word was soft coming from his lips like he knew it well, but nestled in your brain with surprise as he called you by your real name, not just a nickname. You didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything at all.

As he looked at you standing in the doorway, he felt exposed, like you could see through any walls he'd tried to build around himself. Words faltered from his brain. His lips parted again as if he was going to say something more, but they shut just as quickly and he ran a hand over his chin. He gestured that hand out to you.

"You uhm- did you get my note?"

You stared back at him for a beat before nodding and reaching into your bag. You held the note out in front of you, the side of your mouth quirking upwards. "Was this Carmen language for 'I'm sorry' ?"

You were half kidding and half serious, a test hidden in your words. The fact weighed on Carmen's brain, his demeanor more nervous than usual, more anxious.

"Yeah, uhm," he scrunched his eyes closed for a half second before walking towards you, taking the note from your hand and reading it to himself again, feeling the warm haze of shame creeping up on him. "Let me translate."

He read it once more. "Well, the 'I'm an asshole,' is pretty verbatim. I'm an asshole, and an idiot, and a bunch of other bad things." He glanced up at you from the paper and was relieved to see that you seemed at least a little amused. He continued. "And the 'You don't deserve that', you see, that's the good part, it translates directly to 'I'm sorry for yelling at you ' and 'it doesn't matter how stressed I was, I shouldn't have taken it out on you. That was wrong of me. And ... you're great.' "

Your eyebrows raised. "That's quite the translation."

Carmen laughed to himself breathily, but it held little amusement. "Yeah, I've been told communicating with me is like trying to tame a wild animal."

You smiled. "Who told you that?"

"Sugar."

Your laugh was warm and sounded like home. It was a feeling that left as fast as it came because soon the air between the two of you seemed to thicken with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The heavy silence lay bare and neither of you decided to fill it right away.

"Carmen."

The way you said his name sent shivers down his spine, a sensation that never ceased to affect him. He nodded at you, eyes studying your face showing that you had his sole attention.

"I know you don't like the idea of me being here. You don't have to try and hide it." His eyes widened as you spoke."But, could you at least tell me why?"

He stared back at you, brows furrowed like he was confused. It was like you could see the gears turning in his brain as he fought to find the right wording, revealed by the stiffening mass of his shoulders that never seemed to relax.

"I don't not like you being here, Mars Bar." He spoke slowly. "I think it's great that you're back in Chicago. I ... We've missed you."

A subtle warmth lay in his gaze, but you couldn't help but feel it was dimmed by whatever emotion he'd been suppressing, the battle evident in flickers in the blue of his eyes.

"I want to believe that, but with the way you've been avoiding me, how can I?"

"Avoiding you- that's," he shook his head, almost seeming incredulous, and you watched as he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did. "I haven't been trying to avoid you."

You didn't know how he could sound surprised, how you could've interpreted the way he's acted all week as anything else. "Well that's definitely what it's felt like when I tried talking to you all week, and you're just ... I don't know, dismissive."

He rubbed a hand at the nape of his neck, focus pitched somewhere that wasn't at you, jaw tightening slightly. "I just ... it's busy around here trying to bring in enough money, and there have been a lot of different things that have my focus right now," he started, as if he hadn't, time and time again, had to remind himself to stop thinking about you.

"Carmen, I know you're busy but that-," you tried to keep your emotions from showing through your voice, but you were aware of the tinge of frustration that was slipping through. "I know that's only part of it. I just need you to be more transparent with me. I can't read your mind."

He nodded, silently thanking God that you couldn't. He swallowed again and you noticed a tremor in the way he held the note he'd written, a sign of unease that he quickly hid in the pocket of his jeans.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know." His blue eyes stared into yours, though you could sense the reluctance in his voice. "But I'm not gonna lie and say that I think it's a good idea for you to stay here."

You felt yourself frown, brows tugging downwards in frustration and confusion. "Why?"

His gaze faltered for just a moment, seeming torn, but he was quick to regain his momentum. "This place is ... it's not meant for someone like you."

You squinted at him, feeling a mix of disbelief and irritation. "Someone like me?"

"Yeah, I just mean," he hesitated, hearing the way you repeated his words, like they were meant to insult. "You were supposed to leave here and finish your studies abroad and achieve great things. Things bigger and better than this shit hole. You were gonna-"

"Carmen, stop." You almost scoffed to yourself. "My plans were always to stay close to home. A few months abroad weren't gonna change that." The air in the room seemed to thicken with the weight of the words you both shared, the thoughts never said allowed before. You noticed your breathing was becoming labored as you failed to understand the way Carmen's mind worked, the way he tried to communicate so much by doing so little.

"This whole time you were worried about me supposedly being meant to achieve great things, but what about you?" You let out a stunned laugh. "You're the one who studied with the best of the best, traveled all over, became a world-class chef and everything else, and now you're overworking yourself at this place and refusing help."

"Yeah, well, that part of my life stopped when Mikey gave this place to me as a final fuck you, so."

Your heart twinged not only at the name, but at the way Carmen's eyes flashed with hurt while his words could've cut stone.

"Mikey gave this place to you because he trusted you," you reasoned. You tried to make him come down from wherever he was, to detach himself from the hurt and open up. The hard plane of his shoulders lifted once in a shrug, with a small shake of his head as he stared at the ground.

"Yeah well, he just ended up fucking screwing me over."

Carmen's frustration seeped into his voice, the way he emphasized each word like he wanted to release whatever was simmering under the surface. You wanted to reach out, tell him that he could, but you held yourself back and stood up taller.

"That doesn't mean you should push people away from this place. Push me away. I could help out here. I saw how hectic it was the last time I was here and-"

"That day was a fluke," Carmen cut you off. "It's not usually like that..." his jaw worked. "I'm not usually like that." His words were laced with exasperation and a little bit of shame. You could tell he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"Carmen, I understand. But-"

"I already blew up at you." His voice cut into the air harshly. He looked away, his chest rising as he tried to control rising frustration. "I didn't mean to do that, I don't... I'm not gonna let that happen again." His words were starting to come out in a rush, escaping his control, something you knew never sat well with him.

"Well, that's my choice to make, Carmen, not one that you can make for me."

"Mars, The Beef isn't- you don't want to settle for this place, just trust me."

"How can I trust you when you've done nothing but push me away since I got here?" You heard the tremble that was growing in your own voice, a mix of hurt and anger. "You've told me a million times what I want and don't want. Have you ever stopped to ask me what I wanted? Seen my point of view?"

Carmen's breathing was picking up too, the crystals that were his eyes looking at you with a mixture of defiance and desperation. He ran a hand over his face.

"I've tried to see your point of view."

"Have you?" you snapped back.

"I gave you the job even though I knew it was a bad idea, I went against what I knew just because it was you and I let Richie convince me it was a good idea, and I am fucking done listening to Richie's ideas-" his breathing was becoming uneven as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

"Hey, Richie's done a lot more to help me since I've gotten back than you have, and a lot more listening!" Now you were yelling, and he was yelling and you didn't like the direction this was going.

"Yeah, well did Richie tell you this place was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt when Mikey gave it to me? Did he tell you we probably couldn't even afford to pay you a decent fucking salary?"

You opened your mouth, expecting to be equipped with a response as fast as the ones that came before, but that didn't happen and you didn't say anything. You let your eyes scan Carmen, searching for a hint that he wasn't serious, but he looked wholeheartedly sincere and angered. In fact, he looked like he was fighting to even breathe steadily.

You looked at him concernedly, taking a step closer, but he just continued, laughing to himself without joy. "He didn't fucking tell you. Of course not."

His breaths were harsh, coming from his nose and lifting his chest repeatedly. His arms slapped down at his sides, hands trembling. "See, that's why I fucking told him I didn't want you anywhere near this crap hole, I fucking told him-"

His yelling stopped. He recoiled, backing up into the counter recklessly, a pot falling behind him with a clang that had you flinching. His vision was pointed downwards towards the ground, but he was frowning so hard you were sure he couldn't see anything at all, hand to his chest, gripping.

"Carmen?" You asked, alarm suddenly overtaking you and washing away whatever anger had been bubbling inside of you. "Wh- are you okay?"

It took him a second to even process what you'd said, another to respond. "I'm fine, I-" you put a hand on his shoulder to brace him, feeling how tense it was, feeling it trying to move with the effort of his shallow breaths. Panic, shame, embarrassment, everything, seemed to claw at his chest, constricting his breathing even more. "I just- fuck, I can't- I can't-"

"You can't breathe," you said, understanding what was going on now with another flash of alarm that you hid, trying to stay calm. He nodded shakily.

"Carmen," you said steadily. To him, the sound of your voice was distant, overshadowed by the sound of his heart pounding loudly in his ears, muffled the way voices sounded when from underwater. Carmen knew he wasn't underwater. You called his name again, and he did his best to hear it. "You're having a panic attack."

He managed to shake his head again. "I'm fine. I just- shit." His legs practically gave out from underneath him and he braced one hand on the table behind him, one on your shoulder.

The sight of Carmen collapsing to the ground had you wanting to release a sob, but instead, you threw Carmen's arm around you and somehow managed to take two steps towards a bucket that was on the floor against a near wall and got him to sit down on it unsteadily.

You took both of his hands in yours, noticing how his shoulders shook, how the bottom of his neck tinted red from the straining effort to breathe.

"Carmen," you called, kneeling down to his level and giving his hands a squeeze. His vision was blurred, staring downwards, but the hazy sight of his hands wrapped up in yours gave his mind a moment's peace before he was struggling to focus again.

You took a deep breath in, feeling selfish that you even could. "Carm, do your best to look at me." You purposefully slowed your words, spoke softly and clearly, and Carmen heard. You took one hand and rested it by his cheek, hair pooling into your fingers. You brushed it back, and ran your thumb across the rise of his cheekbone, lifting his face to look upwards at you. Even when his mind could hardly form coherent thoughts, your touch still affected him like no one else's.

Once his eyes were on you, you took the hand that was still holding his and placed both on your own chest, covering the area of warm skin close enough to feel your heartbeat. A tremor rolled through him, at your hand, at the way you felt, at your touch.

You. You were here, he thought, and that was a comfort to him in itself.

"Here," you said, pressing down gently but firmly on his hand. "Can you feel my heartbeat?"

Carmen tried, really tried, but his head wasn't focusing no matter what he did. You noticed his struggle right away, like he didn't even have to form words for you to know.

Hurriedly, you took off your jacket and threw it to the ground beside you. Carmen heard the sound of a zipper before his hand was taken in yours again and placed on your chest. This time, the underside of his hand felt warmer, closer to you, to skin.

"How about now?" you asked. His eyes were shut, and he really did his best to focus this time, tune into you, into the way your chest moved up and down beneath his hand, and with it, he heard the soft and steadying rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Yeah, I- I feel it."

You let yourself smile slightly, trying to take slow and deliberate breaths. "Carmen, I need you to do your best to match your breathing with mine." You looked at him and the way his features were scrunching with the effort of trying to listen to you. "Can you do that for me?"

He nodded. He'd do anything for you.

He focused on only his hand, yours, and you. Your chest underneath his palm, warm, and steadying, and alive. He felt it rise once, and fall, all in the time that he let out multiple staggering breaths.

The next time yours rose, he didn't let himself exhale until you did, taking in air from his parted lips and releasing it through his nose, feeling how the air spread thin throughout his body, a good feeling. He did that again, focused on the way his fingertips grazed bare skin, on the sound of your heart beating, in time with his now.

Behind the blank nothingness of his eyelids, scenes played out before him. Visions of his past, echos of familiar voices, spurts of color and light overtaking him.

Then, he thought of you, of the warmth of your gaze, even if he didn't deserve it. The shine of your skin, the way it looked soft even in the harsh light of the kitchen. Thoughts of you, you with him, years ago, months ago, and days, how he'd seen you for the first time in months, standing behind the counter with a smile sweet like the chocolate bars you'd always liked, the one he'd left at your doorstep, a weak attempt at salvaging one of the best relationships he'd ever known. He'd buy a million more if it meant you'd stay with him, by his side, like you'd been for years. Like you were now.

He didn't know how much time had gone by, but he opened his eyes and you were still there, still holding onto him, face looking calm but eyes swirling with emotion. With concern.

He felt fine now, his body having enough strength to support him, but he leaned into you regardless, head sunk down, resting in the place beneath your chin, on your chest. He wanted to get as close to your heartbeat as possible, not just feel it with his hand but surround himself with it.

You brought your hands up to envelop him, one resting on the white cotton covering the hard muscles of his back, rubbing it soothingly, the other coming up to rest in his hair again, gently brushing through the strands closest to the root as if to say I'm here, I have you.

You leaned your own head down to slightly rest on the back of his, mouth brushing against the crown of his head in a way so delicate he wasn't even sure he felt it. But you saw the way he melted into your touch, felt the way the muscles in his back slowly seemed to release tension at each caress. He needed to be held. But he was him, he'd never ask for it. But, you were you, and you'd always know.

You stayed like that for minutes more, though you would've held him all night if he needed it. When he sat back up, the whites of his eyes were tinted pink, and one of his cheeks was gleaming in the light, damp. You didn't comment on it. You didn't say anything at all but stood up from where you knelt and walked towards the counters, peeking underneath them until you found what you needed. You stopped at the sink and returned to your spot in front of Carmen with a plastic deli container filled with water in hand. You offered it to him wordlessly.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from you gingerly, but his voice was hoarse and he felt the red heat of embarrassment as he took large sips of the water, draining it halfway at once. A water droplet escaped from the side of the cup, dripping down his chin, and your eyes followed the movement until you felt guilty about it and stared down at your own hands. The two of you let the silence rest as it was, peaceful and healing, until you felt ready to break it.

"I'm sorry," you said, slightly a surprise for yourself to hear the words from your mouth, but you meant them. Carmen sat back up. "For pushing you to this point. I didn't mean to-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Carmen spoke quietly, voice somehow steady. "It- ... that wasn't your fault. It's happened before, when you weren't here."

You let your eyes scan over his face concernedly because he wasn't looking straight at you and you always felt the need to look after him, even if he wouldn't let you.

"This has happened before?" Carmen gave a weak shrug, like this wasn't something he thought about on his own, something he ever let occupy his focus.

"Something like it."

You made a breathy sound of disbelief. "Shit, Carmen."

So many thoughts were demanding your attention, too many. You wanted to tell him how this wasn't supposed to be a normal occurrence, how not okay it was to ignore his mental well-being. Shake him silly for never caring about the right things, for never caring about himself enough. To give him yet another lecture on letting you help him, on letting anyone help him.

"It wasn't as bad this time." His voice paused all your thoughts. "I think it was because you were here."

You didn't know how to respond, but he finally looked into your eyes and saw how much they spoke for you, how they widened, and then blinked once or twice, shying away. Almost like you were guilty, like you were sad. Something inside of him reminded him that he was probably part of the reason for that, and that ate away at him more deeply than any of his, like you said, panic attacks, ever had.

"I'm sorry, Mars."

Your eyes flicked up to his immediately, intention behind them. "You never need to apologize for having a panic attack, Carmen."

"No, for- for not just that." He paused. "For being an ass. For yelling at you. For not listening to you."

You looked at him wordlessly. You didn't want to say it was okay, because you'd be lying if you said that, if you didn't acknowledge how his words still rang sharply in your head. But you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that Carmen certainly made things feel okay when he was calm like this, understanding. Peaceful.

"And I'm sorry for all the shit I gave you about not listening to me."

You let out a quick breath, almost a laugh. "To be fair, I ... didn't."

His heart seemed to swell at even just the hint of laughter that coated your voice.

"Yeah. You don't listen to me." He let the side of his mouth quirk up to match yours. "That's the thing I love about you." Internally he thought, just one of many.

You stared up at him. At the way his eyes seemed to look over your face in adoration. It did something to your heart, pulled on the strings of it, and left it panging in your chest. He noticed right away.

"You alright?" His concern and furrowed brows almost made you want to laugh.

"Yes I'm-," you exhaled. "I'm fine. The real question is, are you alright?" He watched as your eyes flitted all around his face. "To be honest, you don't seem it."

He self-deprecatingly chuckled. "Wow, thanks, Mars."

You shook his arm a little bit, expression disbelieving. "I'm serious."

You thought about how tense he'd been underneath your touch, how tense he'd seemed for the many days that you'd been back home. How that couldn't be healthy for anyone.

"You need to start taking better care of yourself, Carmen." You made sure he was hearing your every word. "Your mental health is important. More important than any job. You have to stop worrying so much about The Beef and start worrying more about you."

He ran a tired hand over his eyes, immediately feeling the urge to look away. "If I didn't put as much as I did into this place, I don't even think it'd still be up and running."

You let the words hang between the both of you for a moment, knowing how important this was to him. It was important to you too.

"I know how much you've done for this place, Carm." You took his hand in yours again. "You care about it a lot, always have. I have too. But you know the toll it's taking on you. That's not good for anyone, and it'll only last so long. And ... that's why I think you should take any help you can get, for now."

As soon as the topic left your lips again, you felt his hand stiffen in your hand, mouth opening to argue, but you held up a hand.

"And before you say anything, I don't care about the full salary, I don't I care about traveling, or 'wasting my potential' or any of that. I care about helping this place, making sure it lasts, for Mikey." You breathed. "And for you. I care about you."

He could feel his own heart start to race in his chest, flustered like he hadn't known you for years, like you weren't one of his oldest friends.

"I care about you too," he said, and the words felt shamefully foreign on his tongue, thinking about how little he'd ever actually said the words. "That's part of why it's hard for me to think about you working here. You mean a shit ton to me. More than anyone else in this damn place."

"You don't mean that." You couldn't stop the way your brows pushed together, looking down at your hand that was holding Carmen's rough and callused ones. "What about Richie, or Fak, or Sydney-"

"They mean a shit ton to me too, but it's ... not the same. You're you."

He looked into your eyes, trying to see if you'd recognized his hints, but he picked up emotions other than the realization. On a frown, on reluctance, on a guarded, shy look.

"I'll always be me, Carmen." You bit at the inside of your cheek, putting off the topic like you weren't important. That was a foreign idea to him. "That doesn't matter. What matters is you not accepting help."

You saw the way his demeanor shifted at your words, a sense of uncomfortableness settling in his bones, revealing itself in the way he sat up straighter. Your grip on his hands was still firm, unwavering, like all you wanted was to make him understand.

"Carmen," you called, but he was already staring at you. "Promise me that you'll let other people take care of you, help you get by. Let me help you."

He was grateful for the way he was positioned, elbows leaning on knees, hands held by yours, because it was stabilizing him, grounding him when he felt like running. He knew that if he wanted to keep you around, keep you by him, he couldn't do that. That didn't change the fact that this was new to him.

"I, um,"

"It doesn't have to all at once." You gave him a smile, a real one, because you knew he was trying. Breaking out of old habits, for you. "One step at a time."

You were back home. Him pushing you away in his head, running, but only in his mind, didn't change that. He didn't want it to. Despite the pull of his mind telling him to hold you at a distance, the push of his heart wanted you. It was drawn to the cradle of your hands, the warmth of your smile.

"I promise."

Your smile grew to a grin that tugged at the sides of your glowing eyes, eyes that sparkled with affection like they held a hidden invitation, a plea for him to let you in. He finally did, and he knew so fully that he would've made that promise to you time and time again if it meant he could have you and see that smile as much as he wanted.

Your fingers brushed the back of his hands as you stood up from where you were kneeling, letting out an exhale that he noticed sounded almost weightless, a change from the burdened way it sounded to him before. The thought put him at ease.

He stood up too, watching you as you retrieved your jacket and put it on, him feeling the urge to help you with even just that. When you focused back on him, the etches of a smile still lingering on your face, it was magnetic. He couldn't look away. You couldn't either.

You stared at the way a hundred different colors danced in the blue of his eyes, a miraculous feat that you'd loved from the start. As you looked at each other, eyes saying more than your mouths had the courage to, your smile grew slowly, heartbeat picking up in your chest.

"Let me walk you to your car," you coaxed, gesturing towards the door. He laughed at the random idea, breaths escaping through his nose.

"What? Why?"

You shrugged, smile and features and everything, warm. "Call it the first step to you fulfilling your promise to me."

Knowing how he'd iced you out, he embraced that warmth. Made it his new home. "Yeah," he nodded. "Okay."

You gestured for him to follow you, he did, and that was all he had to do. You turned off the lights behind the both of you, locked the door, and didn't ask him to do a thing, just to see the amused look on his face when you smiled at him, his eyes staring back at yours like you were a wonder, something rare to be loved and kept safe.

As you walked back to his car, that was all he could think about. How he'd come across this ray of light in his life that was you, and how you'd stayed by his side, a miraculous idea but he didn't even want to dwell on that too much because it took him away from this moment being shared between the two of you, alone, the cold nipping at your skin but it not mattering because too much had happened that night to care.

The moment seemed to come to an end all too quickly. Carmen had stopped once you'd both reached his car, and you did too. He became aware of the feeling of you next to him, savoring it because he knew it'd end the moment he got into his car.

"Carmy," you said, extending the moment just a little longer. He hummed in response, watching as you stuffed your hands in your coat pockets.

"Can you promise me one more thing?"

He nodded, not missing a beat. " Yeah, anything." Something inside of you fluttered. You cast it aside to hold his gaze.

"Promise me you'll always try and tell me what's going on in your head. No more hiding."

His eyes bore into yours like he was contemplating something, a flicker of conflict in them, a vulnerability that you didn't know what to think of. Then, it was gone and you weren't even sure you'd seen it.

"Yeah, I- um," his jaw tightened for a second. "I promise, Mars."

You patted him on the shoulder, a friendly gesture that felt phony even to you. "Great ... that's great."

He flashed a closed-mouthed smile and you both stood there on the sidewalk for a moment, not saying a word.

"Goodnight," you told him, because it was what you would've said to anyone else at that moment, ignoring the whispers in your mind telling you something was missing, that Carmen wasn't just anyone else.

Something tugged at him too, nagging him, insisting that he had more to tell you, more to say before the night was really over, before he had to go to work the next day and somehow navigate his day with the new promises he'd made you. But all he said was "Goodnight, Mars," before getting in his car with just a wave goodbye that felt bare and wrong.

You left him one more of your smiles through the passenger window of his car before walking off to wherever you'd parked your own. He was sure he'd felt butterflies. Butterflies.

Only you could do this to him. He'd felt numb, overwhelmed and unsatisfied all the same time for however long, and then you come back to Chicago and suddenly he felt everything, all the time. It was getting to him, clearly, because he found himself opening his car door and stepping out of it, losing control of his body, loosening his grip of rationality all because of you. Because he wanted to see you, needed to. He needed you.

You were a good distance away from his car by the time he'd gotten out of his, but you turned around at the sound of the car door practically slamming. You frowned, noticing Carmen walking towards you.

"Carmen?" you called into the night, confused. He caught up with you, something behind his gaze that had his eyes shimmering. You swore you could feel the delicate movement of his eyes across your face as soon as he was near enough to truly take it in.

He took hold of your hand, fingers interlocking with yours delicately, an electrifying feeling buzzing through you. You let out a small gasp at the contact, vision shooting down at the point at which you both touched, just a hand hold but the contact took your full focus.

"Hey," he said, something like a smile creeping onto his features and you'd never seen him like this, so exhilarated and full of delicate determination. You looked back up into his eyes, and he took a step closer, finally letting himself be pulled by that magnetic force calling him to you that he couldn't resist. He wouldn't, anyway.

"Wh-," you started, meaning to question him but the thought was brushed aside when he leaned inwards, his forehead falling against yours. His curls brushed against the top of your head, and you secretly loved the feeling, becoming breathless.

"You can tell me to stop, Mars." He murmured it so close to you, breath fanning onto your cheek in a distracting but addictive way, and suddenly you were forgetting how to talk. It didn't matter, because you didn't want him to stop. You looked back up at him, and he saw that in your eyes, so he didn't.

His lips brushed against yours, a taste of what he'd been wanting for longer than he could even remember. The feeling it sent throughout him was immobilizing, and he stayed like that, eyes shut, reveling in it.

It was you who closed the distance, pressing your lips to his and letting the dizzying wave from it spread all over you, to the tips of your fingers that immediately reached up to hold his firm shoulders, and to your brain that buzzed in joy and excitement and a bit of something else.

He froze up for a second when he felt your lips crashing into his. Your lips on his felt like the answers to all his problems, and he needed them in a burning, unignorable way. His brows furrowed and his hands reached up to cradle your neck delicately, holding you like you were more valuable than anything he could've bought, anything he could've wished for, could've imagined he could possibly have.

His lips tugged on yours and yours tugged back, a rhythm that felt easy to follow, like the deep thrum of a heartbeat. And when you both finally pulled apart for air, it was like you could still feel that rhythm, because your heartbeats were beating so loudly and in time with each other's that it felt like the moment was never meant to come to an end.

Your foreheads were still connected, and you knew neither of you had it in you to pull away. You felt somehow even more breathless.

"What was that for?" Your voice was soft, hoarse. You swore you saw Carmen's lip quirk upwards.

"I promised to not hide what was going on in my head." Your hands came up to delicately wrap around his biceps, impossibly solid underneath your fingertips. He didn't suppress the shudder that traveled through him. "Call that the first step."

You smiled, this time against his lips, and somehow that beat every single smile you'd ever given him before. It felt like a promise of your own, to share your warmth with him from now on. He liked the idea, a lot. He'd let you do it whenever you wanted, he liked it that much.

He'd let you take care of him whenever you wanted, too. Again and again, until you got sick of him. But he was Carmen Berzatto. You knew you never would.

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

Note

can we have a headcannon of y/n (female) thats throwing dark humour around everytime and have 141 + Rudy, Alejandro nd konig react to her lmao 🤣

Can we have that? 💜 Thank you

Girl. Literally me. (I give my coworkers whiplash but they dish it pretty good too lmao)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Might actually get a decent laugh out of him, we’ve all heard his horrendous hilarious jokes, so we all know he can dish it, but can he take it? Depends on the type of humor

If it’s self-depreciating, probably not. Doesn’t really get it? Like he does but he sees you too positively for the humor to click.

Unalive jokes? Definitely not. Hates hearing it from you even if you’re laughing about it, so if you want to make them, you better be cheeky about it (“Head down, sergeant you’ll get spotted.” “Aw sweet, you think so?” You don’t have to be near him or even see him to feel his glare)

Jokes about your traumas? Not super keen on it but if you’re at a point in your life that you feel ok enough to laugh about it, he’s not one to take wind out of your sails (“Damn, this drink hits harder than my dad.” “Sweetheart. Please.”

But if your jokes are similar to his, then your chances of getting a laugh out of him went up exponentially (he thinks he’s so god damn funny and he’s right. king.)

“How do you turn a salad into a Cesar salad?”

“How?”

“Stab it 23 times.” Soap audibly groaned,

“That’s my girl.”

All in all, you’ll get a deep sigh with pinching the bridge of his nose for every joke you make, and maybe you’ll get a pretty laugh from him (god I bet his laugh is so nice 😭)

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

(laughs nervously) what the fuck?

He’s heard Ghost’s jokes firsthand, so the dark humor isn’t new to him. He might even laugh with you and crack a few of his own

Honestly, as long you’re having a laugh he’s not really that worried (still a little worried tho)

He trusts that if you’re feeling particularly bad about something, you’d talk to him about it and he’s here for that

He kind of enjoys the theatre of it, the dramatic reactions to something so seemingly mundane,

“So when are you gonna take me out?”

“To dinner? We just ate, bonnie.”

“… not what I meant but I love where your heads at.”

“Not in a million years.” He laughs kissing your temple and squeezing you against him

“So you’re saying there’s a chance? It’s just a matter of when, got it. Thanks babe, I owe you”

John Price:

He’s not thrilled about it but he’s worked with Ghost so he’s somewhat built a tolerance

He knows you sometimes use dark humor as a coping mechanism but he’ll tease you saying you should come with a warning label

He’s definitely choked at hearing some of the things come out of your mouth, at least the jokes relating to your own traumas, those always give him whiplash

He finds your situational dark humor much funnier than anything you might say that involves you being harmed, even if it is a joke that’s kind a nightmare scenario for him

Those will definitely get a chuckle out of him, just please stop making jokes about yourself, he loves you a little too much to stomach them

“What does my dad have in common with Nemo?” He refuses to answer, he knows, he fucking knows

“They both can’t be found.”

God damn it, sweetheart

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He’ll join you for sure lmao

He’ll see you sparring on the mats with Soap and he sees you land a particularly rough kick that he managed to block

“Damn babe, that was clean. Now do it right here.” He’s pointing at his temple, you laugh and throw your sweaty towel at him

You’re out on recon and you’re making your way towards the targeted area,

“I’d be terrible if I was discovered, sure hope there aren’t any snipers to take me out. That’d be awful.”

Price groaned even as Kyle stifled a chuckle,

“Come on, love, we’re a bit too good to let that happen to you.”

“That’s the real tragedy, honestly.”

“Enough, you two.”

König:

He thinks you’re funny but low key a little worried at how easily the jokes come to you

But if you’re laughing and having a good time, then so is he!

Sometimes you really do say some crazy things and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or to hug you

He likes the jokes that have nothing to do with you much better, you’d be sitting at a briefing in the far corner when you lean in and whisper quietly,

“Köni, what’s red and bad for your teeth?”

“Hm?”

“A brick.”

He stifles a laugh and shakes his head, you can see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he tries to hide the smile.

Alejandro Vargas:

Honestly, he kind of gives me the vibe of “telling a joke becomes receiving a lecture”

Like you’ll make a joke and look at him and he’s deadpanned,

“Mi amor, that’s no laughing matter.” And then he goes into a full lecture about why what you said was out of pocket and a little hurtful

It’s not that he doesn’t understand the humor he’s just concerned

But, he prefers the goofier jokes I feel like,

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away, or at least it does if you throw it hard enough.”

“Mensa.” He pushes your shoulder playfully with a laugh.

Dumb jokes like that get a good laugh out of him, just don’t make them about you please he loves you so much and he will lecture you

Rodolfo Parra:

Mortified in Spanish

“Mi vida, please don’t make those jokes.”

They break his poor little heart :( he loves you so much it makes him sad to hear make such harsh jokes about yourself or even see such awful things

He sighs every time he hears one of your jokes and gives this look 🥺

He doesn’t like that you joke about yourself or the things that have happened to you like that

He understands that humor is sometimes a coping mechanism, but he’d much rather talk through the things you’re joking about

He just cares about you so god damn MUCH

But if they’re nonsensical, then he’ll chuckle quietly,

“You don’t need a parachute to go skydiving.”

“What? Amor you definitely-”

“You need a parachute to go skydiving twice.”

“Dios mío, amor.” He chuckles.

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year

Text

rogue ink

Daemon Targaryen x f!reader

word count: 3.4k ▪︎ masterlist

themes/warnings: fluff, language, very brief mention of smut

The reader is devastated at the loss of her precious journal, worried that it might fall into the wrong hands. And who better else to discover it, but the Rogue Prince himself?

It was a small thing.

A small, leather-bound journal. Filled with accounts of your days and nights, your deepest thoughts, your pains. An unassuming object, sort of tattered from use.

And it had been missing for three days. The gods were not good.

You searched everywhere. Every corner of your chambers, in all the pouches you had especially sewn onto your dresses, practically every inch of the Red Keep which you have called home ever since your family was invited to King Viserys' court.

And yet it was nowhere to be found.

It was immediately noticeable to your inner circle that something was amiss, but you just shrugged it off. One person you did confide in, however, was Princess Rhaenyra herself. The two of you quickly grew close after her former companion, Alicent, was sent off to wed some wealthy, Southern lord.

"So what if it has gone missing? Perhaps you have simply misplaced it? Anyway, we could easily get you a new one, y/n."

Your head swiftly turned in her direction, "I appreciate your tone of confidence, Rhaenyra - "

She nodded, making a playful show of curtsying.

" - but... I've scrolled down personal matters in those pages. Especially when it concerns..."

She paused in her step. Hands clasped behind her, she leaned forward, "Ah. I see."

When it concerns Daemon. But it need not be said aloud.

Rhaenyra has been privy to some of your musings about her beloved uncle. Only the ones that you would ever let befall on another person's ears, that is. Some of it... well... would be more than enough to make any maiden blush.

"How could I forget?" Rhaenyra smiled, "You fancy Daemon." Then her face turns sly, "He fancies you too, you know. But of course, I know why you would be reluctant to engage with all of... that."

Your hand reaches up in an attempt to hide your face from shame, "Gods, what would happen if anyone at court were to find it? It would only be so easy to determine that the thing is my possession. I've written my father's and mother's names on it, and yours, and Daemon's..."

"What's the worst that could happen?" Rhaenyra wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you steady, "This court of sycophants never runs out of fodder for their dull conversations. Your journal might be spoken of for a day or two, then they shall move on to something of lesser import."

You sighed deeply, a mask of calm appearing on your visage, though Rhaenyra knew better.

It will be alright. Another half-truth. This loss will soon be a trifling thing.

If only...

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Daemon Targaryen has been having quite the interesting time as of late.

The pages of your small, tattered journal feel light on his fingertips, but he might be inclined to say that the mere feel of the parchment is exhilarating.

These thoughts were yours. These secrets, these desires were yours.

Truthfully, he has not been completely shy about his admiration for you. His precious dove. His sweetling. You thought nothing of it, knowing full well how he is. The Rogue Prince has been known to possess countless paramours.

And you are damned if you would allow yourself to be one of his mere passing fancies. To be bedded one night and forgotten the next.

He once thought that his admiration is not well-received, until one morning, when he watched as an object fell out of your dress as you sprinted down the hallway, headed to only the gods knew where. You bumped into several ladies of the court, mumbling rushed apologies, only to be met with irate stares, but you went on without any mind to them.

Daemon failed to hide the smile that sprung from his lips. He quietly shifted to the spot where you dropped something, and that's when he saw it. Your journal.

It could only be yours. Who else would scroll down that thinly veiled warning on the first page, dedicated to any stranger who might deign to read it?

Daemon, of course, believed himself immune to such threats and he hurriedly found a secluded place to sit down and immerse himself in the woman who has managed to take sanctum in his mind.

And his heart, but the notorious prince would still be loath to admit that.

A few pages in, with amusement dancing his eyes, his chest felt warm at the image of you inking these thoughts onto the parchment.

Then came – “Once more, if you might be a nosy intruder, turn away now, or the very worst fortunes shall fall upon you. I swear this on both the old gods and the new.”

Perhaps I should stop. After all, she just might impale me with mine own Dark Sister if she found this in my possession. Daemon’s hand hesitated as he was about to turn the next page.

He had half a mind to close your journal, partially resolved at returning it to your chambers without you even having to notice its loss, but his eyes were quickly drawn to the following words…

“I finally saw Prince Daemon Targaryen this morning.”

How could Daemon stop his perusing at that moment? He read on with renewed interest, yearning to know more of what you think about him.

“By the gods, he is as beautiful as he is infuriating. I was made to be the cupbearer in today’s small council meeting, and the Rogue Prince strolled in, well in the middle of the discussion, without any mind as to the disturbance that his late arrival caused, if any. Not a care in the seven kingdoms. He paid absolutely no mind to me, standing there in the corner.

But I saw him.”

Daemon found himself rolling his eyes. Of course, he would give off the worst impression upon the first moment she glanced at him. But then again…

She thinks me beautiful. Vanity had allowed him to glaze over the part where you call him “infuriating”.

I suppose I shall have further use for your precious book, my sweetling.

And so the next few days were spent raking your journal for passages about him. Daemon knows full well that doing so can be deemed a violation of your privacy, but if he can use this to get closer to you, then this is something that simply must be allowed.

In his eyes, it may even be necessary. He needs this. Wants it, even. He wants to get under your skin, and these pages all but symbolize that very thing.

After all, Daemon swore that he shall only read the parts wherein he is concerned, and that is well within his right, is it not?

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“Daemon is indeed something to behold. Yes, my opinion still stands.

However, I am not certain what to make of him. Is he to be trusted? No. Bloody well not. Is he kind? That is not really a word anyone would use to define him.

But… there is something… something in his eyes. Daemon is much more than the rogue scoundrel that his moniker deems him to be. He is more than just ‘dangerous’ or ‘unpredictable’ or a potential ‘second Maegor’ (Truthfully, I find it hard to believe that last thing). Daemon is… more than that.

I just can’t find the words to encapsulate him. Perhaps words never can.”

The days pass quickly, and Daemon finds himself opening your journal now and again.

He cannot help it. The more he reads, the more he learns of you. But that is not the only reason. He is also discovering himself, as it turns out - an image of himself that he has not entertained before.

Not only The Rogue Prince, but a person of greater value than his notorious misdeeds. He believes that you see something in him that not even he can see himself.

Something more. Something… good.

Though his intentions prove to be not entirely innocent, as is the usual case. He comes upon one specific part, with your penmanship turning into a nervous scribble. It is as if you were wary that someone might be looking over your shoulder and deign to discover what salacious scrawls you have put down about the Rogue Prince.

Daemon’s eyes hurriedly glide over the ink, basking in what he reads.

“I must confess something.

I know it is quite unbecoming of a lady. Of a maiden. But in the last hour of the owl, I…

I…

Oh, gods. I pleasured myself to the thought of him.

You know. It can only be him. Daemon.”

“Seven fucking save me.” Daemon finds himself cursing with delight at what he just read. So his sweetling does want him in return. Oh, you cannot even imagine what I will do to you…

“We have grown quite close, him and I. Daemon is… Daemon is aflame. There can be no better word for him. He is fire incarnate, and I am not afraid of getting burned.

Or… I don’t want to be. I just. Want. Him.

I want to feel him. I want to feel his lips on mine. Not long ago, he leaned in close and his musk enveloped me. His lips very nearly grazed my cheek. Silly me could not come up with a witty response then and there. A shame. But can you blame me? All I could think about was snogging the fucking Rogue Prince himself!

Ha! Gods!

Perhaps I have gone insane.”

Daemon chuckles freely, alone in his chambers, your journal firmly between both hands. Any clueless onlooker would think it strange, as the Rogue Prince does not make a habit of exhibiting such behaviour. The pleasure in the tone of his laughter rings true and genuine.

If it becomes known that the reason for this is the Lady Y/n, then only a fool would dare deny the centre of their prince’s affections.

“But I cannot deny it.

I cannot have him. I shall not… he is… he does not seem willing to devote himself to just one lady. One wife. There is never a lack of gossip about the prince’s exploits in the Street of Silk, and a hundred other brothels besides.

His need cannot be sated it seems. I… surely, I will not be enough to sate it.

And I won’t allow myself to be one among many paramours.

If I am to love, I have to be chosen as the only one.

However…

Mother spare me.

However… I find myself imagining Daemon’s hands roaming freely across the planes of my skin, fondling my chest, his fingers drifting downward until they are buried in the heat of my soaked cunt.

When the castle is asleep, I find myself writhing in my sheets, thinking about the prince’s massive co – “

A knock echoes across the chambers. Daemon’s head shoots up immediately, irritation blooming across his face, but his cheeks remain flushed from what he just read.

Who the fuck is this?

His squire enters, a gangly young lad of six and ten. He bows hurriedly, and with a shaky voice, he implores, “My prince, you are being summoned by His Grace King Viserys to the small council meeting.”

Has that blasted formality come round again so soon? Daemon shrugs, turning back to the pages. Though he can hardly focus with the snivelling interruption still present in the room, who risks arousing his master’s anger when he speaks once more, “Forgive me, my prince, but I have been instructed to report with - ”

“Will you remove yourself from my sight willingly, or shall I do it for you?”

“M-my prince… I…” The squire nearly stumbles backwards at Daemon’s wroth.

“Leave. The small council will have the privilege of my presence in due course.”

And so, Daemon is again left alone, his squire’s rapid footsteps practically bolting out the doors.

Smirking, he greets your journal like an old friend. “Now, where was I?”

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Your newly gifted journal boasts of a far more opulent appearance than its predecessor. Rhaenyra made sure that the Maesters bound only the finest parchment and leather for this very thing; the cover even has gold and red embossments, as well as inscriptions in High Valyrian.

You were reluctant to accept such a gift, but Rhaenyra was persistent. And everyone knows, there is no refusing the Realm’s Delight when she has her heart set on something.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to know of the whereabouts of your journal… well, your old journal now.

Nestled in your usual spot in the gardens, you turn your new journal over in your hands, admiring the handiwork of the Maesters.

The rear possesses the inscription - Isse otāpagon hen ñuha ojūdan udra, se isse ōños hen skoros pirtra hembar… - which Rhaenyra explained as roughly translating to - In remembrance of my rogue ink, and in joyous anticipation of what lies ahead…

You did not fail to notice the deliberate placement of the word rogue, which can only be Rhaenyra’s doing. Clever.

Rogue ink. Rogue Prince. Am I to call myself Lady Rogue now?

“My Lady.” His voice calls out, nearly startling the journal out of your hands. Oh fuck.

“Prince Daemon,” you swivel around to his voice, and sure enough, he leans against one of the tall hedges, studying you. Not a care in the seven kingdoms, as always.

“Good morrow, sweetling.” He saunters over, permanent smirk on his lips. “That is a lovely thing you have got there,” he says, gesturing to the new journal in your lap.

“Why yes, it is.” You lay it down beside you, and he promptly picks it up without even asking for your leave.

“Isse otāpagon hen ñuha ojūdan udra…” He reads, the High Valyrian sounding musical on his tongue. Far better than how you attempted to voice out the same words.

“Hmm.” He hands it over, and sits right next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him.

“Rogue ink.” He mumbles thoughtfully, glancing at you.

“It was Rhaenyra’s idea.” You say, your throat suddenly feeling dry, your heart racing from his proximity.

“Ah, yes. I was very sorry to hear of how you lost your journal. Rhaenyra said you were quite devastated.” Daemon lies plainly. His beloved niece never shared this with him, for she knows you would not approve.

“She did?”

“I do recall, yes.”

“Oh.” You clear your throat, choosing to let it pass. “Well, she was awfully kind in giving me this as a replacement. I could not thank her enough.”

Daemon smiles, casting his gaze downward, as if he is privy to a secret that is kept from you. Does the handsome bastard know something?

“It is a shame that I could not find it,” you sigh, “I am still perturbed by the thought of someone whose intentions are unsavoury, reading all that I have written.”

“Whatever would you do to them, were you to find out their identity, my sweetling?”

You shake your head slightly at the name he has given you. Anything to distract from the warmth spreading across your face. You lean in closer, suddenly, much to Daemon’s surprise, “Would you let me wield Dark Sister, so I might teach them a lesson?”

Daemon swallows, the sight of your darkened, mischievous expression spurring him on.

“I might,” he leans in, “but I am far too fond of myself to allow something like that to transpire. Besides,” his fingers languidly trace your jawline, “I have read that you are far too fond of me to do such a thing.”

Your stomach falls, the sensation so sudden that you simply freeze in place, with Daemon’s warm breath still fanning your face.

“You…”

Your face scrunches in a mixture of what can only be shock and anger and embarrassment. Daemon only finds it endearing. Adorable.

He starts, “Now, sweetling, try not to be cross - ”

You do not let him finish. You punch him in the shoulder, hard, making him lean away. Your legs seem to have a mind of their own, because you find yourself pacing quickly.

Gods, I just assaulted a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. More pacing. Who cares? It’s Daemon, and he deserves it.

The sound of his laughter echoes in the gardens, grating in your ears.

He stands, pulling something out of the pocket of his trousers, and presenting it to you. Your little, rogue journal.

Wrenching it from him, you can only ask, “You stole it from me?”

He looks appalled, “No, I would not do that. I found it. It might occur to you to thank me. Who knows what could have happened if anyone else besides me discovered your precious journal when you dropped it in a haste.”

“Thank you?” You stare him down, your left hand squeezing your journal firmly, threatening to destroy its very structure. “Why did it take so long for you to return it to me? Did you… did you…”

“Read it?” His eyes rake your face, over and over, enamoured by the passion he sees.

You say nothing. Of course he has.

“You must forgive my curiosity, sweetling. I could not help myself, plainly, to have some glimpse into your mind, into your heart… I simply… I had to.”

You soften a little at that. “Did you read everything?”

Daemon steps forward, overwhelming your space once more, “Not everything. Not quite.”

He gently pries the journal from your fist tucked beside you, and you watch as he flits through the pages as if it were his own. He whispers, “Only what you wrote about me.”

“Gods.” You desperately look toward the sky for some respite, not finding any.

He lands on the page he was searching for, a smile spreading across his face. “I am flattered, my lady, about how you envisioned us in what can only be… very compromising positions.”

“Enough, Daemon, please…” you bite your lip, as his hands drift across your stomach, settling low on your hips, pulling you flush against him.

The journal has been discarded by your feet, and Daemon only has eyes for you. His voice is genuine when he says, “You have written about me as if I were… someone else. Someone more.”

Your eyes catch how his tongue flicks across his lips. You start to give in, and say, “Daemon, I write only what I see.”

His lips are curled in their familiar roguish way, when he drifts even closer, tilting your face up at him with one hand.

“Daemon…”

“Sweetling… let me give you something to write about.”

In true Daemon fashion, he does not reign himself in.

His lips land on yours. The impact catches you by surprise, making you take a few steps back, and he promptly follows suit. Your bodies move in sync, until your back collides into one of the marble plinths.

His tongue pries your mouth open wide, snaking past your teeth in a frenzy. Without breaking the kiss, he takes your hands, and guides them to the back of his neck, so that you might hold him in turn. You do, burying your fingers in his silver tresses.

Your lips battle each other, and Daemon tilts your head back so that he might advance more. A low growl escapes his chest as his teeth carefully clamp down on your bottom lip, pulling at the flesh.

He pulls away, pleased at how swollen your lips have become due to his work, “If I were inclined to write as you do, the words would doubtlessly be a tribute to you, sweetling.”

You did not expect that.

Still reeling from the taste of his mouth, you finally smile, though wryly, “You could only be telling me what I wish to hear. Soften my anger at how you invaded my most intimate musings.”

He nods once, one hand reaching up to lean on the plinth above your head. His violet eyes bore into yours, burning with unmistakable desire.

“I could indeed.” He kisses you again, his lips briefly pressing against your own, with a gentleness that is quite unusual for the Rogue Prince. “But mayhaps I shall prove to be quite convincing.”

You take a deep breath, peering up at him in a haze. Your shaky nerves finally settle, and you drink him in. Your rogue muse. The object of your affection, as he now knows. “Prove it then. My new journal is in need of fresh accountings. What better thing to write about than the taste of your lips…”

Another kiss, and another.

“I am yours, sweetling.”

Been a while, loves! Hectic stuff + writing ruts can tend to cause such breaks, but I'm glad to be back and writing again ❤️

Yes, it seems that I sometimes take weeks (even months) to update series works. But then I'll get oneshot ideas, and they get done within a day (like this one). I can't explain it either 🙃

But anyway - series updates up... soon enough!

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen oneshot #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine #matt smith

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