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rhiannonsknife · 14 days ago

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── ❆ DAY 04: christmas with shauna shipman

— summary: christmas with shauna shipman hcs.

— warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff. established relationship. not a warning but shauna’s mom is a sweetheart in this. gn!reader. the last hc turned into its own little blurb, i fear…

the shipmans and their holiday traditions and habits…

shauna’s mom takes holiday decorating very seriously. the moment the clock strikes midnight on december 1st, she’s on a mission. boxes of tinsel, lights, ornaments, and wreaths are hauled out from the garage, and she’s already made a list of things she needs to buy to outdo last year’s setup. shauna insists she’s not a christmas fanatic like her mom. “it’s too commercialized,” she claims with a dismissive wave. still, you catch her humming along to christmas songs on the radio when she thinks you’re not paying attention. and once, when you glanced over at her watching tv, you realized she wasn’t just mindlessly flipping through channels; she was fully engrossed in some cheesy holiday commercial. when her mom found out about the two of you, it didn’t take long before you were roped into the shipman family holiday traditions. “more hands make light work!” she’d chirped, thrusting a box of ornaments into your arms before you even had a chance to decline. now, as far as shauna’s mom is concerned, you’re part of the christmas prep team, and there’s no escaping it. “y/n,” shauna’s mom calls to you, standing on a stepladder as she adjusts a string of lights. “do you think this looks okay, or does it need more sparkle?”

“uh…” you glance at shauna, who smirks. “looks great to me!”

“don’t encourage her,” shauna mutters under her breath, sliding an arm around your waist. “next thing you know, she’ll be ordering glitter spray for the whole house!”

speaking of which: going to the christmas tree farm with shauna and her mom.

the place is already bustling with families when you arrive, the air crisp and tinged with the scent of pine. rows upon rows of evergreens stretch out before you, their branches snow-dusted. shauna’s mom heads off to inspect the taller trees, leaving you and shauna alone to wander through the rows. “okay, which one screams ‘shipman family christmas’ to you?” she asks, gesturing dramatically at the nearest row of trees. you pause, pretending to consider. “that one,” you say, pointing to a sad, crooked little tree that’s missing half its branches. shauna narrows her eyes at you. “you’re joking, right?” her lip is twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh. “absolutely not. It’s got…character” she counters immediately: “it’s got issues! come on, we’re not bringing that home!” eventually, after hours of roaming the rows of trees, you do settle for one: shauna stops in front of a tall, full tree with perfectly spaced branches and deep green needles. “what about this one?” she asks, glancing at you for approval. you nod, smiling. “it’s perfect!” shauna grins, clearly pleased with herself. “knew it!”

holiday nights with shauna and the yellowjackets.

the yellowjackets throw a holiday party this year (it’s always jackie or lottie who hosts it, of course). when shauna invites you to come along, she reassures you with a small smile, “don’t worry, i’ll stick with you. they’re not that scary.” and, true to her word, she stays by your side the entire night, guiding you through conversations and quietly explaining inside jokes when you feel out of place!! at dinner, she makes sure you sit next to her, her hand brushing yours under the table whenever she senses your nerves bubbling up. ever so often, she catches your eye, giving you a small, reassuring smile that grounds you and reminds you that she’s grateful that you’re there with her <33

later in the evening, when everyone has finished their food and jackie starts rallying everyone for a game of charades, shauna gently tugs your sleeve. “come on,” she lures, her voice low. she leads you out the back door to sit on the cold steps, away from the chaos inside. the sharp winter air bites at your cheeks, and you can see your breath misting in front of you as you both laugh softly, huddled close together for warmth. she drapes an arm over your shoulder, offering her jacket for you to wear.

“i’m really glad you came tonight,” she says quietly, her knee brushing against yours. as the muffled sounds of the others continue inside, shauna reaches out, her fingers brushing against yours again. this time, she doesn’t pull away or has to hide. instead, she lets your hand settle into hers, her thumb tracing small circles against your skin.

shauna, whose presents are always bordering on too perfect.

she pays attention to all the little things you’ve mentioned wanting, even in passing. she’ll take mental notes of every fleeting comment you make, tucking them away for when she has the chance to surprise you, whether this is for christmas or your birthday (or any other occasion). yet, when it’s time for her to open her own gifts, shauna is endearingly shy about it. no matter how small the present is, she’ll blush furiously either way, hiding her face behind her hands for a moment as though to collect herself. then, she’ll wrap you in a tight hug, murmuring how much she loves it (and you). her soft spots are 100% handmade gifts: even the ‘smallest’ things, like a handwritten note or a card you decorated yourself, mean the world to her. she keeps every single one of them tucked between the pages of her journal so that, on the nights when she feels particularly overwhelmed, she can flip through them, tracing the edges of the paper and rereading your words as a quiet reminder of how much she’s loved. other than that, you definitely get her new clothes (like a new signature flannel) or a burned cd with all of her favorite songs!!

stealing shauna’s cozy, knitted sweaters and/or flannels.

okay i’m definitely projecting here, but maybe you’re always dressed in only a shirt/top even though it’s freezing outside. shauna doesn’t know whether to be annoyed or concerned by your complete disregard for the freezing weather. it’s the middle of winter, and while everyone else is layered up in jackets and scarves, you’re walking around like it’s spring. you practically leave her no other option but to offer her clothes. she doesn’t mind the cold at all and she always has to make sure you’re bundled up. “are you actively trying to get hypothermia?” (…🧍🏼‍♀️) she mutters, already taking off her own flannel before you can protest. shauna drapes it over your shoulders, tugging it snug around you before you can argue. “don’t even start,” she says firmly when you try to give it back. “i’m fine. you, on the other hand, are a walking ice cube” (you know, now that i’m thinking about it, maybe this wasn’t the best shauna headcanon…) it becomes a habit after that: if you’re underdressed, shauna is quick to shove one of her jackets or sweaters at you. sometimes it’s a hoodie she pulled from her bag, other times, it’s something she’s wearing herself. she doesn’t say much about it -just rolls her eyes and hands it over with a soft, “put this on before you freeze to death” (okay now i’m pushing it) what shauna won’t admit, at least not out loud, is how much she secretly loves the way you look in her clothes: her oversized sweater hanging off your frame, or the sleeves of her jacket covering your hands!! the sight sends a little flutter through her chest every time she sees it!!

shauna, who might be really good at picking presents for her loved ones…

…but who procrastinates until the very last minute, which is weird, because she’s usually so determined to get everything done in time. so christmas shopping really seem to be the only exception here. a few days before christmas, she’ll call you with a casual “hey, do you want to come to the mall? i need help!” which really means she wants someone to keep her company while she panics over what to get jackie, tai, and the rest of the team (yours is the only present she already had prepared long ago.) it doesn’t come as a surprise that the mall is a nightmare of holiday chaos, and shauna grumbles about it the moment you walk through the doors: “why do people wait until the last minute?” she mutters, completely ignoring the irony in it. and, oh, by the time you’ve wandered through literally every store in the packed mall, you’re loaded with more shopping bags than you thought you could physically carry. “thank you for putting up with me” she tells you back in the car. before you can respond, she presses a soft kiss to your cheek “i owe you. big time!”

shauna who takes you on walks through the neighborhood.

once the first snow falls and her neighbors have put up their decorations, she loves bundling up and walking through your neighborhood with you; her gloved hand is snug in yours as your boots crunch softly against the frosty sidewalk. the air smells crisp and your breath comes out in little clouds as you both take in the glow of twinkling christmas lights decorating every other house. “okay, but why does that santa look like that?” shauna asks, nodding toward a giant inflatable santa slumped slightly forward, his grin crooked. you laugh, tugging her hand lightly. “it’s supposed to be…festive, i guess” “festive?” she echoes. “that thing belongs in a horror movie. if it starts moving, i’m running!” it’s always like that with the two of you; either enjoying your walk and the other’s company or occasionally poking fun at the neighbors’ decorations.

shauna, who spontaneously spends the night at your place because you’re snowed in.

at this point, your parents are used to shauna hanging around, especially since you two have been dating for a while. they wave it off without a second thought, telling you both to help yourselves to the kitchen if you need anything. “i guess that means I’m stuck with you,” you tease, already heading to the living room, where the fire in the fireplace crackles warmly. shauna follows behind, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “you’re lucky,” she grins. you smile too and grab the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over both of you as you settle in beside her. shauna leans against you, her usual teasing demeanor melting away in the warmth of the room. “everything okay?” you ask, glancing at her. shauna shifts slightly, her voice quieter than it normally is. “yeah” she assures. “just…i’m glad i’m here. with you, i mean!”

okay but winter mornings with shauna?

on the mornings when the weather is especially cold, shauna will wrap herself around you like a blanket. her arms are snug around your waist, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of her breath against your back before you’re fully awake yet. you stir slightly, shifting in her hold, and shauna tightens her grip with a quiet, drowsy murmur. “don’t move,” she mumbles, her voice muffled and still thick with sleep. “you’re warm. and it’s freezing” you can’t help but smile, turning your head just enough to catch a glimpse of her messy hair and soft, half-closed eyes. shauna’s face is pressed against the curve of your shoulder, her nose brushing against your skin with a cold touch that makes you shiver slightly. “good morning to you too,” you tease, your voice hushed in the early quiet of the room. “mhm,” she hums, her lips curling into a faint smile as she nuzzles closer, her legs tangling lazily with yours beneath the blankets. “too early for mornings. let’s just stay here!”

snowball fights with shauna are inevitable.

she claims that she’s ‘above it’ but will surprise you with a sneak attack the moment you let your guard down. “we’re not twelve” she’ll say with a dramatic sigh, though the grin she’s trying so hard to oppress instantly gives her away: the second you turn your back to collect some snow for your own ammunition, shauna pounces and a snowball slams into the back of your head. you whip around to find her already grinning at you. you retaliate by tackling her into the ground next: sprinting at her, breaths coming out in clouds, and launching yourself right into shauna, tackling her to the snow-covered ground. shauna lets out a yelp of surprise, but the moment you hit the snow together, the laughter comes; loud and contagious. once it started, she can’t seem to stop, her cheeks flushed from both the cold and the giggles.

shauna who also insists on taking you ice skating.

we‘ve talked about ice skating with jackie, but i feel like shauna would also want to take you out on some fun christmassy couple‘s activities. except that, for some reason, i can’t picture her being as good at it as jackie is. in fact, you both end up stumbling all over the icy rink, giggling and laughing the entire time as you try to hold each other up right: the rink is lit up with christmas lights strung along the edges, and holiday music plays faintly over the speakers. it’s the perfect kind of cheesy, festive date, and honestly, you’re surprised shauna wanted to do this in the first place. she usually rolls her eyes at stuff like this, calling it ‘too cliché’.

“okay, full disclosure,” she says as she laces up her skates. “i haven’t done this since i was, like, eight. so…don’t judge me if i totally suck!” as soon as you step onto the ice, though, it becomes obvious that neither of you are good at this. the moment shauna’s skates touch the rink, her legs wobble, and she grabs your arm with a laugh. “oh my god, this is worse than i remember!”

the two of you end up shuffling awkwardly across the ice, your movements more like walking than skating. every so often, one of you slips, sending the other off-balance, and you both collapse into fits of giggles.

christmas eve with shauna!

spending christmas eve at her house is quiet and cozy. the living room smells faintly of cinnamon and pine from the tree her mom insists on putting up every year. you’re curled up on the couch together under a shared blanket, watching cheesy christmas movies that her mom picked out before disappearing into the kitchen to finish wrapping some final presents. shauna pretends to hate them (“how many times can two people accidentally bump into each other under the mistletoe?”) but is absolutely humming along to the soundtrack by the end of the night. she’s also made it her mission of the night to steal sips of your hot chocolate every chance she gets, even though she has her own mug sitting untouched on the coffee table. “yours tastes better,” she insists with a grin, leaning in to take another sip before you can protest. by the end of the night, her head is on your shoulder, her hand resting lazily on your thigh beneath the blanket. she’s stopped trailing circles a while ago and, as the credits of the last movie roll, you’re almost sure she’s fallen asleep. that’s also when her mom finally reappears. she pauses in the doorway, smiling at the sight of the two of you curled up together <33

but also; christmas dinner with shauna.

when mom invites you to christmas dinner for the first time, you’re SO nervous about making a good impression! you know she already adores you: she’s always been kind, welcoming, and maybe a little too interested in whether or not shauna’s “special friend” would be joining them, before she figured you two out. (let me have my moment and believe that her mom would be your biggest supporter ever!!). but this is christmas dinner. a different level entirely.

“i don’t know why i’m so nervous,” you mutter as you smooth out your sweater for the hundredth time in shauna’s bedroom. “i mean, your mom already likes me…right?” shauna, sitting on the bed and watching you fuss, laughs. “likes you? she’s obsessed with you. you could probably drop the whole meal on the floor, and she’d laugh it off!” you roll your eyes, swatting at her playfully. “not funny! this is important. it’s christmas! what if i screw it up somehow?”

shauna stands and walks over, her hands gently finding your waist to stop your nervous fidgeting. “you’re not going to screw it up. she already loves you, trust me. but…” her voice drops into a teasing whisper as she leans in close, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “compliment her mashed potatoes. trust me on this one!”

you blink. “her…mashed potatoes?”

“yep!” shauna grins and pulls back, giving you an exaggerated wink. “it’s her signature christmas dish. she’ll melt. works every time.”

“you’ve tested this theory before, i take it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “oh, absolutely,” shauna says, deadpan. “it’s practically a rite of passage in this house!”

she remains right, as it turns out, and the dinner goes on smoothly once you’ve gotten through the initial nerves about it.

shauna keeps finding little ways to steady you regardless, grounding you in her own quiet, way. a squeeze of your hand under the table, her knee brushing against yours. at one point, she even reaches over to brush a stray hair out of your face, her thumb lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

“you’re doing great,” she whispers during a lull in conversation, her lips curving into that soft smile she saves just for you.

by the time dessert rolls around the nervousness that had gripped you at the start of the evening are completely gone. shauna’s hand is still in yours under the table, her thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin. when her mom leans across the table to pat your shoulder and say: “we’re so lucky to have you here this year,” you feel your heart swell.

later, when you’re helping shauna load the dishwasher, you turn to her with a small, sheepish smile. “okay,” you admit proudly “you were right. she does like me”

shauna snorts, nudging your shoulder. “told you so. she loves you more than me at this point. i should be worried!”

“never,” you say softly, and before you know it, she’s leaning down to press a quick, tender kiss to your lips. “merry christmas” she mumbles and you can feel her smile against your mouth without needing to open your eyes.

#˙ ❆ ̟ !! ─ christmas works #shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x female reader #shauna shipman x fem!reader #shauna shipman x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x female reader #yellowjackets x you

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dasphinxone · 2 years ago

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Preview of Chapter 5 of As Above, So Below

AKA, Attuma doesn't take kindly to people and the Tribal Council talking shit about his warrior...even if she doesn't realize she's his yet 👀

This happens directly after the last chapter. Namor, Attuma and Namora are granted an audience in the Wakandan throne room with Queen Ramonda and the Tribal Council to see if they can come to an agreement on an alliance. Okoye flanks Shuri with Aneka and they are both Midnight Angels.

“If it settles the fish man’s wrath, a single marriage is but a small price to pay,” the Mining Tribe council member shrugged and rolled her eyes.

Shuri ignored her mother’s look of warning as the Mining Tribe representative dismissively waved her away and continued with a smirk, “Who are we to deny a disgraced general a chance to reinforce her loyalty to the crown that she so recently lost? This alliance would also prove that she is no traitor, like that ex husband of hers.”

“You would sell out one of our citizens, our general, to an invader?” M’Baku retorted with disbelief.

The Mining Tribe representative shot him a grin like a cat that ate the canary. “She volunteered. Just as the Princess allegedly did when she abandoned us to go to this one’s underwater kingdom,” she disdainfully pointed at the Talokanil.

“I most certainly did not abandon zidenge ezingenamsebenzi [you useless idiots],” Shuri grit out.

Attuma’s eyes widened at mention of a husband from the translation AI. The warrior was already mated? His heart sank, though his mind found no reason for this information to be a falsehood.

Why wouldn’t her talents and exquisite beauty find her actively mated? Who would turn down an opportunity to bind themselves for life to one of such great consequence? Surely, she had to beat off the most prestigious suitors with that spear of hers he still had clipped to his belt.

Shuri’s disgusted look as she hauled herself to feet caused the Mining Tribe representative to snap her mouth closed.

“Have you finished in your slander of my general?” The Princess growled, “Or perhaps you’d like to continue to waste everyone’s time with your fetid half-truths? We grow tired of it and more important discussions are at hand,” she gestured towards the Talokanil.

Ramonda’s snort of agreement quickly followed her daughter’s words.

At least the representative had the shame to cast her eyes downward before she declared, “I only speak the truth. W’Kabi was a traitor. She was married to him, eh?”

Attuma didn’t turn his body enough to attract attention. It still allowed him to take in how the warrior stood as still as stone. She stared straight ahead and beyond him, hand clutched around her new, golden spear.

Taking a few deep inhales through his rebreather, Attuma closed his eyes to concentrate on the individualized thrum of her heartbeat. Frowning at its increasingly frenzied rhythm, his gut twisted with infuriated gall at how the councilwoman spoke of the warrior’s evident past so publicly. The only good thing the old hag did was confirm that this rotten W’Kabi character’s marriage to the warrior lay at an end and in the past.

As the AI translated, Shuri suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress a cackled laugh while the Mining Tribe representative stiffly sat up. An ugly sneer flew to her face before she immediately fell silent at Ramonda’s raised hand.

“Is what le peek'o' nojoch máaktal [the old dog] says true?” Namor asked, brows arched in alleged innocence.

“Somewhat,” the Queen snapped. “She was married. Her husband betrayed his king. She nearly killed him for doing so. We do not blame others for their family’s faults. Each individual exists as a result of actions they undertake by their own hands within my kingdom."

Namor mockingly bowed his head. "That seems to be first thing we may agree upon when it comes ruling."

"However,” Ramonda's voice rose, “She was recently stripped of her command of our elite royal bodyguard for her failure in protecting my daughter from you. So I fail to see why you are so hungry to have one of so little consequence seal this historic alliance,” she shrugged with a tone as innocuous as though they were all discussing the weather.

Attuma’s heart roared at this offense so easily doled out to the warrior.

The time for remaining silent passed as he pounded the bottom of his scythe into the ground. Everyone startled and turned to take in how his shoulders heaved as he marched forward to stand next to his king.

“You offend my battle prowess by insulting my betrothed,” the Talokanil general growled.

“She is not your fiancé!” Shuri exclaimed as she threw her hands up in exasperation.

"She crossed paths with the mighty Attuma, Slayer of Sharks, Protector of the Cursed Trenches," he rumbled without pause, completely ignoring the Princess. "I have proven many times over the greatest wielder of my blade this side of multiple generations. Nevertheless, she lived. Whole and healthy to tell the tale of how she fought me with the blessed spear, the weapon of both our ancestors."

Okoye's hard stare caused Aneka to turn her head towards her in astonishment.

"I suggest you,” Attuma pointed his scythe in Ramonda’s direction, “Guard how you affix your words within your mouth when you speak of your distinguished in ba'ate'el [warrior], your grace.”

The room fell so utterly silent, one could hear a pin drop. Not even the Dora Milaje standing guard on their platform above pounded their spears to warn of speaking out of turn.

Namor arched a curious brow before a grin flashed across his features. Okoye’s head whipped around to take him in. Her face awash in confusion, her mouth hung open in bewilderment.

M’Baku slowly sat up straighter in his seat before he took a crunchy chomp of his cucumber. Everyone’s eyes darted to him in flabbergasted astonishment as he finally slapped his thigh.

“Clearly,” he shrugged, “The shark man speaks in poems of what may only be called truth.”

“What the fuck?!” Aneka’s words rang in Okoye’s comms in her suit. Okoye couldn’t’ be bothered to hide how she rolled her eyes.

Ramonda’s mouth curled with derision. “Are you serious, Jabari?”

“As serious as he so obviously is,” M’Baku waved his snack in Attuma’s direction.

None of them could see Attuma’s grin behind his rebreather. Perhaps the furry man would grow to the best of the potential allies among the rest in this room who claimed wisdom. Especially those conniving eels of the apparent Tribal Council.

TO BE CONTINUED...

In a few weeks, as work is kicking my ass right now. So I wanted to give y'all a little appetizer.

#okoye x attuma nation #okoye x attuma fanfic #okoye x attuma #attuma x okoye #general okoye #okoye #attuma #attuma of talokan #as above so below #wakanda forever fanfic #wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever #danai gurira #alex livinalli

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vernblr · 2 years ago

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Do Not Disturb

Summary: You've had a long week, and hanging out with Vernon was just the thing you needed to relax. What you didn't expect was to fall asleep in his company, or what he would do in response to it.

WC: 1.2k

Ambiguous relationship (can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic), fluff

A/N: Thank you to @twogyuu for both reading the draft I sent her at midnight (my time) in the most unhinged manner possible and for tagging me in the prompt that started this. I'm still sobbing btw. This is on you. This is based off this imagine from @imagine-svt (sorry for the tag)!

Maybe coming to the dorms to visit Vernon was a bad idea. Today was just another day in a string of restless nights and tired days that continued to plague you as you fretted over your work. But then again, that’s exactly the reason why you’re here. Being around Vernon was such a soothing experience, his calm and level-headed personality seemed to rub off on you whenever he was around. Everyone else had gone out for the day, doing either some kind of schedule or just to go out and about. You didn’t mind, spending a quiet day inside was just the thing you needed. You leaned your head on Vernon’s shoulder, half reading the pages of his book with him as he leaned his head against yours.

“Do you want to read it with me?” He asked quietly, shifting the book towards you so you could read it better if you wanted to.

“Mm, no, not really. Do you mind reading it to me instead?” You murmured, exhaustion clear in your voice.

“Okay then, let me know if you want me to stop.”

To be honest, you weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading anyways, the words melting together and the meanings just as indecipherable. So you didn’t pay attention to what he was saying either, focusing on his voice and how warm he was underneath you. Everything was just so comfortable and warm, and his voice slowly yet surely faded away…

It was much darker when you woke up, the sun long gone now as you regained your bearings. You noticed that the sun wasn’t the only thing that was gone when you found a pillow underneath your head instead of Vernon’s shoulder. You wonder why the dorms were so quiet, everyone who had left during the day should’ve been back by now. Something crinkles in your hand as you sit up, drawing your attention to a piece of paper that you didn’t notice before. “Do Not Disturb” was written in Vernon’s handwriting in black ink, and as you flip it over to reveal a blank side you realize that that’s all it says. You huff out a little laugh at it; it’s such a simple but thoughtful gesture of his to do, but one so in character of him that you would’ve recognized it as something he did even if you didn’t know his handwriting. That did explain why no one was bothering you though, they must’ve seen both you sleeping and the little sign in your hand and left you in peace. You were kind of impressed with it, they were always very chaotic and high-energy whenever you saw them, but they were normal people too and it made sense when you thought about it for a bit.

But your endearment for him really reached a peak when you got up, only for a jacket to fall off your shoulders. Vernon’s jacket, the maroon leatherman one he was wearing when you were sitting together. Your heart melts at the sheer number of things he did to make sure you were comfortable, and you were going to make it a point to pay him back for it later.

Slipping your arms in the sleeves and placing the paper in the pocket, you relish in the way it smells like him as you endeavor to return it to its owner. You weren’t exactly the most familiar with the layout of the building, but a quick time check from your phone gave you hope that you would find at least someone around to help you in case you got lost.

You didn’t have to search for very long when you heard Vernon’s voice call out to you from behind you, prompting you to turn around. You smiled at him as he approached you, giving him a tight hug when he came close enough.

“How did you sleep?” He smiled, adjusting the collar of your- his jacket.

“Better than I have this entire week.” You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder again. “But thank you for doing all this for me when I fell asleep, including the cute little sign you made for me.”

He rubs the back of his neck shyly, looking away from you. “You think it’s cute?”

“Oh, absolutely adorable. And it works too, since I haven’t had a problem with any noise at all. Still haven’t either, are you sure this isn’t some kind of charm?”

As if on cue, a loud scream tore through the silence, one that sounded very distinctly like Dokyeom’s, before a round of voices began to shush him.

Vernon snorted. “Well, that was fast. I went to check up on you in case you were awake, good thing you were because I think that would have woken you up if you weren’t.”

“Regardless of how I would’ve woken up, I’m sorry we didn’t get to hang out like I wanted to. I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that, I really must’ve been more tired than I thought.”

“It’s okay, I had a feeling that you could use a nice break. We can always do something together another day, I’m just glad you’re feeling better now.”

You shake your head. “You’re really too nice to me, I swear. Hey, do you want your jacket back by any chance? I was going to give it back anyways, but the thought left my mind until now.”

You pull off the jacket to offer it to him, trying to ignore the chill that hits you the moment that you do. Vernon raises his eyebrow at it, before shaking his head. “I can tell that you’re cold, and it’s pretty cold out now since the sun set. Just hold onto it for now, you can return it to me later.”

Your grip on it falters slightly, a slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve done plenty for me already, I wouldn’t want to make you do anything else for me.”

“You haven’t ‘made’ me do anything, I do these things because I want to and I care about you. It’ll be fine if you take it home, I promise, I have other jackets I can wear in the meantime.”

You let out a small sigh, but concede as you pull the jacket back on. “Thank you, really. For everything you do. I just want you to know that.”

Vernon gets a soft look in his eyes, smiling fondly. “It’s no problem at all, I’d do it again for you if the chance came up again. Say, do you want to continue the book I was reading to you?” He joked.

You laughed loudly at that, trying to stifle it in the sleeve of your jacket. “Sure, let’s hope I actually remember what happens this time. You might have to tell me a little bit of what was happening before, I don’t think I caught anything I was reading with you.”

You sat down with him again, looking through the book he was holding as you leaned your head on his shoulder. It was a moment just like this that started everything that happened today, and you smiled fondly at the thought of it. You lean further into Vernon as he reads to you, hoping that you wouldn’t fall asleep again. You wouldn’t mind if you did anyway, and you knew Vernon wouldn’t either.

#svthub #seventeen #seventeen imagines #vernon #vernon imagines #sorry for doing dk slightly dirty for this especially after the last thing i wrote

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fandomout · 2 years ago

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Ya know how the Gallaghers have a piano in their house? Could you please write a request where Gallagher sister oc/reader taught herself to play piano over the years and eventually gets into the Chicago Symphony Orchestra? Thank you✌️

Hi! Sorry this took so long. Life decided to hit hard. 😅 I didn't have enough inspiration in me because of some health issues, and I didn't want to post this until it was ready. I wasn't going to half-effort this. Hope you enjoy it. Again sorry it took so long. I appreciate all requests and all comments, so this is no different. I want to thank you for the requests.

As for others who have sent me requests, I will be working on those as well. They will go out. I can't say for sure when. However, I'm getting back into the grove of things. Just something to know, I will be doing them in the order I get them in. Got some Carl, Lip, and The Boys requests on the way, so stay tuned!

Sister Gallagher Reader-Playing the Chicago Synphony

Her nerves were wracking as the seconds kept ticking by. She was going to be called up soon. She’d be performing her solo piano piece. She’d gone through it, but her nerves were the last test. Her heart jumped out of Her chest as she slowly peered out of the curtain to see the large crowd. This was the moment she’d been waiting for.

Soon after those in the house either parties or fought, she was quick to marvel at the lonely piano in the house.

Slowly, as she grew, she grew a bigger and bigger desire to play the piano. She'd sit at the piano and try every key; however, with school, she was quick to pay attention in music class and ask her questions. Although she didn’t have instruments there, she still did her best to retain any information she could.

When she got a phone, she used it to learn even more. From then on, she began her lessons. Day in and day out learning whenever she was free, especially at night. It was her favorite time to play. The silence of the house filled with music instead of curses and drunken screams.

Once she'd mastered the notes and basics. she'd upped the ante to practicing more difficult songs to play and mastering those. One day, she came across a beautiful piece of music and watched as the piano player’s hands moved with the music. Then, an applause rang out. She was wondering why the video and editing was so high quality. Then, she realized she wanted to create her own music. That night, she realized her dream. She wanted to play like that player did. She wanted her efforts to show for it. She wanted to play in the Chicago symphony.

It was a dream she never specifically mentioned, but all her siblings could see how dedicated she was about playing the piano.

When she were older, her phone helped her slowly learn different songs. Soon, she was making her own pieces. Then, when she had the chance to play at an event or school she took it. Music became her life after realizing she could actually do it.

She worked hard, which led to her getting an audition for the symphony. She was a finalist. She never imagined in her wildest dreams to have accomplished it that far; however, now that she was there. Those hours and seconds mattered to everything she’d been working for. She had about a week to practice until the actual event. She would practice as usual as much as possible. However, her siblings looked to her with worry as there was something called too much practice. She began to mess up the keys. Her mind was turning to mush.

Her siblings came to check on her and told her to pull away, but she wouldn’t listen at first.

It was three days before opening night, and she banged her head on the keys in frustration. Fiona’s voice rang out, and she asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Maybe you guys were right…I should take a break…”

“You think. I mean right now it’s almost midnight. Everyone's about to head to bed, and I don’t even think I remember seeing you eat today.” Lip strides down the stairs, and he comments, “That’s because they didn’t.” Fiona gives you a look and states, “I’ll make you something.”

She glared at Lip,and he responds with a smile and says, “Don’t worry, Fiona, I’ll force feed them if I have to.” She hit his shoulder with a hard smack. He looks to her before lifting her up over his shoulder as best he could to get her over to the couch.

She yelled, “Fuck off!”

He plops her on the couch and responds, “I’m just getting you away from the piano. Swear you’ve been in the same spot for days. Mold is gonna start. I'm saving you the trouble.”

Ian comes from the front door and overhears a bit as he asks, “We have mold again? Where?”

She huffed and leaned roughly back onto the couch, There is no mold!”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Suddenly, She felt less irritable even the calmest she’d been in the time she’d started preparing.

Fiona comes by with a full plate. When the smell hits her nose, her eyes are quick to open. It wakes her back up, and she begins commenting to Lip, ”Okay maybe you were-”

The comment doesn’t go far as Lip shoves food into her mouth. Aggression was going to be the first reaction; however, her stomach and taste buds were happy, so she began to gobble down the food and water in front of her. Nothing took her attention away.

Ian pats at her head and smiles before saying, “Finally, she takes a break. I’m glad you guys did something because this was getting ridiculous. I was almost gonna lose sleep over this.”

Her three siblings were looking at her in adoration as she ate heartedly. As she finished, she smiled at them individually before her face fell, and she uttered, “Thanks guys, and I’m sorry…If I’ve been-”

Ian puts a hand to her shoulder and says, “No need for that.”

Lip adding, “You’ve been a pain but it’s okay…I guess.”

Fiona laughs and adds, “What’s family for?” She nods and smile wider feeling at ease. She's about to stand when Ian pushes her right back down with his hand, and he asks, “Where are you going?”

“I’ve had my break. It-”

Lip scoffs and says, “You don’t learn do you.“

“Well-”

“Rest. You know your music.”

Fiona adds, “No one worked harder at something they have a knack for. We all believe in you, so just rest.“ She looks at Ian, and he comments, “We’ll be there on opening night to cheer you, louder than anyone else. We all know that for a fact.“ She nods and heads to bed. She ended up sleeping for a day and half. Then, everyone was really great about helping find her something to wear because she’d completely forgotten about it.

Back to the moment of truth, her eyes land on her family all in the front row. They give smiles, waves, and thumbs ups. She remembers the encouragement of her siblings and take a breath. She closed the curtain and closed her eyes for a second.

They announce her name. When her eyes opened again, she made her way to the piano. She focused on the keys in front of her.

The cheers that fill her ears being none other than her family. She gestures for them to calm; however, they’ll never know how grateful she was for their support. Quickly, she lost yourself in her song and played until the end flawlessly. She'd done it.

She stood up and looked at the crowd. This time not only her siblings cheered but everyone else.

Hope your day got better

Full Masterlist

Shameless Masterlist

#imagine #reader insert #x reader #imagines #one shot #shameless #shameless imagine #shameless masterlist #shamelessus #oneshot

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yuzukult · 3 years ago

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after midnight 05 || jjk & reader

title: after midnight 05 - tonight pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, smut, fluff, fwb!au, fuckboy!jk, doctor!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: bad words !! jk mostly just explicit language. no smut. a/n: ruh roh yeah no smut !! i decided to go without it this time because of the ✧plot✧ and wanted to focus more on that!! hope you guys still enjoy and read it without the freaky. :) (also next chapter is the last chapter. bye.)

He likes the colors red and black.

His favorite foods are donuts, grilled pork (wrapped in lettuce, a clove of garlic, a splat of red pepper paste while dipped into that sauce with the sesame oil or the one with the soy sauce), and he enjoys a good combo of the corn dog—half hot dog, half mozzarella cheese—and he rates the cheese pulls out 10; he even writes the name of the store, location, his order, and the ‘cheese pull rating scale’ in the notes of his phone.

He sniffles a lot, something about his nose that makes him do it frequently, but he does this thing where his nose scrunches up and the space between his brows crinkles while a finger does a quick swipe underneath despite nothing coming out.

Apparently, he’s got a black belt in taekwondo (you have yet to ask him to show you some moves), and he’s a ‘pro-gamer’ (his words, not yours). He does this weird thing when he’s focused on something; occasionally bites down the flesh of his bottom lip, or sticks out tongue with a furrow of his brows, only blinking between five minute intervals (you’ve actually timed this). And when he uses the bathroom, he has this strange habit of having to double check to see if he already flushed, even if you tell him that you heard the water go down. He has to watch it himself.

It’s peculiar that you’ve suddenly learned all these things about him, despite just weeks before, you told yourself that you didn’t even know Jungkook like that. The only thing you knew about him was that he’s got this “fuck-it” attitude, but when you uncover that blanket of a reputation that you assumed, he’s… more than just that.

He vaguely mentions that he wants to open a tattoo parlor, but he’s got a bolder, stronger goal of opening his own duck meat restaurant within the next ten years. It’s not fitting to his… vibe, so to speak, the tattoo parlor is more appropriate, but the way his face lights up at the thought of having his own duck meat restaurant is… sweet. Makes him seem less like an asshole.

As much as you resent yourself for admitting this, you’re warming up to the idea of Jungkook being your boyfriend. It’s not impossible, you’re beginning to realize, but it doesn’t help that there’s some hesitance in making a decision as big as that. Jeon Jungkook as your boyfriend? Pft. Sounds crazy.

The trait about Jungkook that you favor is that he’s honest. Even if it’s a rude statement, an opinion that you absolutely do not agree with, and even if it’s completely indecorous, he’s still purely honest. He doesn’t lie, and you know that he might not be lying about that girl that was in his apartment, his reputation still stands.

But sometimes, Jungkook can be honest but you still have no idea what’s going through his head.

You don’t get Jeon Jungkook.

It’s so complicated, yet at the same time, everything he wants and expects is laid out in front of you. He’s like a secret agent, only that he has his tools placed on the table for all the showcasing purposes and you still can’t understand what his plan is.

“When is your sister’s wedding?” He queries one day, lounging on your couch in the living room. He hasn’t probed you for much lately about the relationship, but to be quite fair, you’ve dropped pretty much every guy you’ve had romantic connections with in lieu of just… spending an oddly large amount of time with him instead. “Is it going to be back in your hometown?”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement quietly, paying attention solely on the television and the channels you’re browsing through. “It’s about two weeks from now. Really, I should be going home this weekend to prepare, but the hospital has been busy lately so I’m going to work.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Her wedding is two weeks from now and you’re just telling me?”

You turn to look at him, blinking blankly. “W—Is it supposed to matter?”

“Yeah, I’d like to be your plus one, if you don’t mind. Unless… you were planning on going alone?”

Melting into the couch, you sigh while carding your fingers through your loosened locks. After the last encounter, your family has been blowing up your phone nonstop about the true nature of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. Was he paid to be your date for one weekend? Were the two of you just friends? Did you already scare him and he broke it off? ‘He’s sweet,” you remember your mother saying on the phone one afternoon. ‘Can you try to seem more appealing so he could take your friendship to the next level?’ Because she still doesn’t think that you guys could ever be something serious.

But to be quite frank, you didn’t either. It had nothing to do with you, though, more of Jungkook and the reputation that precedes him. You still had your doubts, especially that night you came to his apartment and saw her there, and although he consistently denies having any relations with her, part of you is a bit… sad about it. As possessive as it sounds, he was supposed to be yours, and the fact that she came into his apartment so easily didn’t sit well in your stomach.

“It’s not that, I just…” you inhale sharply, sucking in your cheeks in thought. “Do you genuinely want to go? Like why do you want to go? I mean, yeah, if you don’t go, it’ll prove everything my family has been theorizing about having a fake relationship, but… I don’t want to force you.”

“I feel like I’m a broken record. I said I’d try to be your boyfriend. So of course I’m going to want to be your date for your sister’s wedding. Plus, I can… see what this wedding hype is that everyone is talking about.”

You snort. “You’ve never been to a wedding?”

“Eh. I have, I just… always tried landing dates on them. So I never really got to enjoy that actual event.”

There’s no harm in bringing him as your date, is there?

There’s harm in everything.

For one, you didn’t expect Jungkook to attract this much attention here. He’s got a suit that you’ve never seen him wear before, hugging his body in all the right places with his hair slicked back with a comma curl brushing against his forehead. Jungkook doesn’t notice you in the crowd, busy keeping himself busy by conversing with some of your relatives, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that he stole the breath in your lungs at that very moment. Brows crinkled in curiosity, lips pink like they’ve been stained with strawberry juices paired with a smile that nearly ropes in the hearts of all those around him, this sight of Jungkook from this distance does the same to you.

God, he always looked so good but today, he wasn’t.. Hot, he was more than that. He was… handsome, beautiful—all of the above.

This was bad. This was so bad because you’re sinking in quicksand disguised with the ways of Jeon Jungkook and the thing you least imagined to happen is starting to happen. You need to grab on something, someone, anywhere where there’s a branch of hope to get you out, but you’re in too deep.

You might… actually like Jeon Jungkook.

But before you could get lost in your thoughts, your sister snaps you out of it with a panicked whine. You could hear her through the walls of your house—and although you’re not the maid of honor, the person she picks for it isn’t exactly the most reliable either. She isn’t quite equipped for a pressuring scenario, and well… a wedding is a taxing event.

“Yuri!” She wails, stomping her feet against the carpeted floors of her childhood bedroom. Yuri gets hit with a tsunami of worry washed over her face as Suji turns her head with the scariest expression on her face—like a tiger going after its prey. “I thought I asked you to take care of this!”

“I’m sorry,” she responds, voice quivering as she gets on her knees. You furrow your brows at the motion, unsure what to make of what she might potentially do next. “I’m trying…”

“Suji, what’s happening?”

“There’s a stain on my dress, and Yuri was supposed to make sure it’s in perfect condition!”

“She’s your friend, not your servant. Here—” you gesture one of the bridesmaids over and hand her the key fob to your car. “Grab the tide to-go pen in the glove compartment. We’ll try that first and if that doesn’t work, I’m sure mom has something in the laundry room.”

Suji is huffing and puffing, smoke practically whistling out her ears with her arms crossed over her chest, veil draping over her shoulders and dress dragging along behind her. She’s so pretty today, despite all the anger boiling in her blood, but she looks like an angel from heaven. “Don’t be sad, lil sis. It’s just a little stain. It’ll get stained worse anyways when you walk down the aisle in grass to your future hubby.”

“OK, but this day needs to be perfect. I had a binder that planned everything out since I was in middle school—” Suji is the epitome of what you described as those girls at that age, and she’s currently living the dream of being able to make it happen. “—and it has to be what it looks like. Sure, I upgraded the tacky stuff to find me at my age, but I need it to be… that.”

“It doesn’t have to be that.”

“It does!” She exclaims, a foot slamming into the floor that’s only cushioned to muffle the sound. “If he’s going to be my forever, then today is the only day that I can make this my day.”

“Right, but you also forget that it’s his day too. And not to mention that it’s possibly the only time you’re going to get married, so you want this day to be great. So instead of wasting your time throwing a tantrum like an actual middle schooler, how about we just make this day as lovely as we can and reminisce on the good memories instead of creating bad ones.”

Her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek. “I guess… you’re right. I love him, and I know that he’s the ‘one’ so…” She sighs, shoulders dropping along with the look on her face. “I just want it to be perfect. Imagine our kids in the future, turning the pages of our photo album. I want it to be perfect, to be special—“

“You keep saying ‘perfect’ when in reality, they’re just gonna wanna see their parents happy on their wedding day. They’re not gonna care that their mom has a tiny dirt stain on her dress, or if the flowers aren’t the exact shade of lavender that you wanted. They’re gonna be focused on those smiles plastered on your faces—grinning from ear to ear, big teeth in everyone’s faces.” You steal a seat on the stool beside your sister, fingers fiddling on your lap. “You’re living your dream. Sure, not everything is going to go by the book tonight, but the fact that it’s pretty damn close is good enough.”

She nods; tears begin to well up in her eyes and you groan. “Don’t cry, you’re gonna ruin your makeup!”

“I just—“ She snatches a tissue from a box nearby, dabbing the inner corners of her eyes to catch the tears before they fall. “That was good advice. And… I’ll take you up for it, that is… if you’ll take up on mine.”

Well… that’s different.

“Uh, what do you mean?”

Suji frowns. “I’m your little sister, but I’m not that little and I’m also not that dumb.” You tilt your head in confusion, uncertain where she was leading the conversation. “Remember back a couple months ago, when I came to visit you, my big sis, in the big city, living out her big dreams?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“And, despite your constant denial of being with someone, I still saw that bright look on your face whenever your phone lit up with a specific name that spread across the screen?”

You grimace. “I did not look like that.”

“Well, in comparison to now, I would say that during that time, it was a bit dim because now you look like the brightest star in the sky. I know… I know that you and Jungkook were uh… not really a fling, but not really a couple either.”

Intriguing, because you never showed any signs of this but Suji picked this up? “When you went to work that one day, he came by your place while I was staying there.” Your face drops. “OK, but before you get all pissy, hear me out.”

“Jeon Jungkook stopped by my apartment… as a fuck buddy, while my sister was there.”

“Right but—“

“What the hell!”

“I said listen!” Although you want to counter back, it’s her special day after all, and starting a fight with your sister on her wedding day isn’t the most ideal scenario. “I uh, he might’ve not realized it then, but he’s been smitten with you since then. Well, before, really, since it seemed like it wasn’t the first time he looked that way.”

Annoyed, it’s your turn to cross your arms. “Like what?”

“Like he wanted to impress me because he liked you.”

This is new. You can’t help but snort a laugh, the back of your hand covering your face in utter shock, shaking your head in disbelief at her observation. “Where are you going with this?”

She shrugs, pursing her lips as her eyes skim her bedroom. “That�� I’m glad you finally took him in as your boyfriend officially. I know you’ve always advocated for being a career woman, but there’s no harm in being both a career woman and being in love. You don’t have to be those people who are dependent on their significant other, like mom, but you can just be… you when you’re with him. He can take care of you, and you can take care of him. Goes both ways.” Her eyes eventually meet yours. “I see the way he looks at you. He’s not the type of person like mom is, expecting you to toss everything you’ve worked hard for just to be a housewife. He likes you for… you. Potentially even love.”

There’s that l word again, the word that slipped off the tip of your tongue so carelessly during a night of intoxication. You weren’t even that drunk, you have to admit, because it was only a couple shots, but something in you spurred the words out like vomit. Jungkook has yet to confront you about it, and it only makes you feel queasy just thinking about what he’d potentially say.

“I… Maybe, I don’t know,” you sigh, watching outside the window to see the bridesmaid that you sent on a mission run back in a frenzy, probably fearing that your sister has transformed into Bridezilla once more. “Maybe I need a sweeter guy, one that has a decent job, shares a lot of things in common with me, and one day wants to settle.”

Suji furrows her brows. “Jungkook is sweet. When you went to the bathroom the other day, Horny—” Suji clears her throat, eyes scanning the room to confirm that your cousin isn’t there, “—Horny Hyunae tried pulling a move on him and he was quick to just reiterate once more that he’s yours and not hers. He’s sweet, sis, you’re just too scared to see it. And a decent job doesn’t mean he has to be a doctor. Imagine you being with another doctor. You guys would probably rarely meet. Plus, not all couples have to be a replica of each other—wouldn’t that be boring? And… And Jungkook… maybe he’s not confident right now, but if he really wanted to be with you and you wanted to settle, he’d at least take it into consideration. So… why can’t you fully put yourself in a relationship with him and give it a go? Not just use the term ‘boyfriend’ loosely, but… treat him like he’s your boyfriend, because he is.”

Before you could formulate a response, the bridesmaid is already up the stairs, panting as she hands you back the key fob while waving the tide to-go pen. “I got it!”

“There you are,” Jungkook has a glass of champagne in hand, the liquid courage halfway full, with his other hand dug deep into the pockets of his trousers. “I’ve been waiting all this time for you. Met up with your sister?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, realizing that the two of you are matching in black attire. You’ve opted for a silky midnight dress, one that follows your silhouette almost tightly, and Jungkook would be lying if he didn’t say that he was watching you the entire time as you made your way toward him. “She was unleashing the demon inside of her because there was a minor stain on her dress. Worked out though, she’s calmer now.”

“Mm,” he hums, mimicking your nod. “Hope you’re not like that on our wedding day.”

You freeze.

There’s something weird about hearing Jungkook say ‘our’ instead of just ‘your’ with the word ‘wedding’ trailing behind it because it’s not… your wedding he’s thinking about, it’s the both of you. The thought of Jungkook standing at the alter, patiently waiting for your appearance down the aisle—fuck, erase erase. You shouldn’t even be thinking about anything of that nature, especially not since you haven’t even claimed Jungkook as your boyfriend officially. It’s too soon. It’s way too soon. He’s still a fuckboy.

Right?

Right.

Or so, you think. He’s different these days, and you say that quite often, but he’s truly been… different. He’s actually been toning down, trying to be less intolerable, but enough that he’s still himself. The other day, he made a flirtatious comment about your ass, but when a passerby complimented a girl standing inside the store, Jungkook glanced for a brief second but didn’t even bat a lash. He didn’t try getting her number, approaching her to compete with the other guy to ‘state his dominance.’ He just… stood by you, holding the menu in hand for you to see more clearly and asked, “are you sure you don’t want to get the spicier one?”

It’s even stranger that the two of you hang out casually now. Before, it’d be a quick booty call, sleep over, and that’s it. Wake up the next morning, shuffle to get your clothes on and make your way to work.

But now, he comes straight after work to your place, offers to either help cook dinner or stop by somewhere to grab something and stays the night.

Who the fuck is this guy?

You definitely need a drink. Eyes zooming directly on the glass in his hand, you don’t hesitate to snatch it and give it a swing. Jungkook isn’t fazed by this, using his now vacant hand to stuff into the other pocket. “I have a scar now from the stab,” he states nonchalantly, inspecting the look on your face. You’re without a doubt troubled, fighting with whatever thoughts it is inside of your head, and he assumes that it’s from your sister being married and not you, so his goal is to create some type of distraction. “I thought you said I wouldn’t get any scars from your stitching.”

“I never said that,” you roll your eyes. “I said it’ll make the scarring results a bit better. Why? You don’t like my work?”

“No, I love your work,” he responds, and that l word haunts you worse than a demon in those horror movies. “I just figured I would try to keep your mind off things by bringing it up.”

“Off what things?”

“You know,” he shrugs. “Your sister is getting married. I know you wanted to get married, and the stigma is that the older sibling is supposed to get married first, and there’s that superstition that if the younger one gets married before the older one, the older one won’t ever get married.”

Is… that what he thinks you’ve been so lost about?

It’s sort of endearing, hearing the way he talks about making attempts to create a shift in conversation so that you’re not feeling conflicted about being at your sister’s wedding. Because in reality, he’s the one occupying your mind. He’s taken over like a plague, infiltrating all your thoughts, to the point that when you’re grabbing boba tea from the shop around the corner for your apartment, your head immediately directs to ‘Is Jungkook over? Does he want a cup?’ And when you know he’d be over for the night, you don’t forget to put that extra towel on the hook in the bathroom for him when he showers. Or even making sure you have a couple water bottles in the fridge because Jungkook prefers to drink water cold than room temperature.

“Oh, I uh, I’m not really so worried about that,” you mention, rubbing your nape awkwardly. “They’re just superstitions.”

“Good, because they are. Your sister is about to get married and I still want to be with you.”

You nearly choke on the champagne, mid-sip and Jungkook rubs your back soothingly. “You alright?”

“Sorry, I just… I wasn’t sure if I heard that right.”

“Yeah, you did. I uh… I still mean what I said, even though this is entirely a new territory for me. I don’t want to say that we technically are boyfriend and girlfriend, but we’re literally at each other’s places everyday, I even have a spare toothbrush sitting on your sink. So… I hope that in comfort, that superstition doesn’t play when it comes to you. I still want to… be with you.”

You don’t get a chance to slip in a response because the music begins to play, and you and Jungkook quickly claim the seats in the front row.

It’s beautiful, you have to admit, all this effort that your sister put into this day has really been worth it. Your childhood home’s backyard doesn’t feel like it today—today, it’s her wedding venue.

The flowers are a beautiful shade of lavender (her favorite color), and they cascade down the armrests of the seats that line the aisle, with matching ribbons that tie around the backings on top of the white cloth that cover the chairs. Her future husband stands at the front, hands probably sweaty and heart racing like he’s just run a marathon. And the way his eyes light up at the sight of your sister, at the other end of the aisle with her arm linked with your dad’s, your heart swells.

The little flower girl that tosses the petals into the air practically dances on her route, and the ring bearer can barely walk without falling (he’s adorable, they have the rings tied to the pillow he’s holding because they predicted this). You can’t help but notice your mom’s face through it all—eyes welling up with tears, smiling so wide with her cheeks close to bursting in happiness and excitement, all while clasping her hands together and constantly gushing with her friends surrounding her. “Oh!” She exclaims, shaking her head. “My lovely daughter is getting married!”

You want to scowl, but you won’t. Today is your sister’s day, not yours, and her happiness was a priority. But the way your mom gazes at your sister dreamily, walking down the aisle with the biggest grin on her face, and her constant probing from the weeks before about how you’re never going to get married at this rate only makes you feel small, despite the fact you made yourself into this independent, strong person. Albeit none of that matters when your mother still looks at you disappointingly.

It’s like Jungkook senses the shift in your emotions, because he rests his hand comfortingly on your thigh, just above the knee, and when your eyes lock, his expression softens.

The ceremony flows well; there’s tears, laughs, and hollers, all supporting the main couple. They say their vows, exchange rings, and end things off with a loving kiss that sparks fireworks into the sky. That look on Suji’s face is filled with infatuation, hopelessly in love with the man in front of her, but the moment you glance at her new husband’s face—it’s a mirror of hers.

You… want that.

Jungkook has mentioned before that maybe these things are just something that you might want but may not truly want for yourself. But seeing your sister have it is only confirmation of it, and part of you… wishes that you had someone like that.

And for the first time, Jungkook comes to mind.

Maybe it’s because he’s sitting next to you, you attempt to reason, albeit he’s always been running through your head. The fact that the two of you had gotten relatively closer these past few weeks, him waiting patiently for a specific label to be presented by you, was adding to more of the reasons why he’s now a perfect candidate versus the old version of himself.

When the reception begins, you shoo Jungkook to find something occupy himself while you lend a hand to your sister and mom with greeting any additional guests that come in.

From his perspective, he feels like a balloon with too much air in it, threatening to burst.

Not that he was gassy, but more like he was filled with… emotion, and impatience, close to rupturing. Especially lately, Jungkook has been rethinking his entire life plan, ever since you decided that it was either date seriously or nothing. Truthfully, he thought that he could convince you otherwise—lead you to wish for an uncommitted relationship, but if he was to confess sincerely… you seemed to have changed his mind.

He saw your relatives chasing the kids around who holler and giggle gleefully, smiles plastered widely on their faces. One of your cousins, Nayeon (if he remembers their name correctly), was running after her toddler daughter around the second floor of your parents’ house after the baby showered, completely in the nude. He saw your grandfather, standing in the corner of the hallway, trying his best to catch the little one but his stomach was too big and he couldn't bend over far enough to grab her.

But then he saw Naeun’s husband; albeit his wife was sweating, hair out of place and completely stressed out by this crazy toddler, his face… exhibits adoration.

“Baby,” he remembers the man calling out to his love, snatching her up into his embrace with a soothing hum. “Go rest up. I’ll get her dressed and ready for bed, yeah?”

Naeun’s shoulders drop, eyes sunken from tiredness. She’s probably been taking care of the baby nonstop, and having to deal with family members in the midst of it, so when her husband stops her, it’s like she’s finally got a second to breathe again. “I—But the baby,”

“Yes, I got her,” he assures her, pressing a kiss on her temple. “I’ll take care of it. Go shower and rest up.”

And for a brief moment, Jungkook thought it was the two of you.

He sees himself, telling you to take a breather, to let him watch over the little ones as you shower. He sees himself, pressing gentle kisses on the crown of your head with an exchanging soft chuckle between the two of you, whispering a brisk ‘I love you’s because the kids are at it again with their crazy shenanigans, bulldozing everything in sight before he can get a chance to keep up with them. He sees himself, that day when your sister is looking up at her now-husband, but instead of your sister, it’s you.

To be quite fair, Jungkook isn’t a hundred percent solid on whether or not he wants this specific future. It’s particularly different from the route he’s always presented to himself, and it’s an uncharted territory for him but one thing he knows for sure is that he wants you.

He wants to see you when he comes home after a day of work, he wants you beside him on weekday nights, snuggling underneath the blanket while on the couch, watching some stupid movie you chose. He favors eating from those take-out boxes or even a nice home cooked meal, but only because you’re with him, despite the fact that there’s not much that the two of you have in common… something about you specifically that has his heart stuttering recently, and being around your family only furthers it.

So when he’s resting his arms on a tall table, beer in hand, blazer unbuttoned and the first few of his dress shirt let loose while faintly listening to some of the men his age that he’s become familiar with at the wedding, he can’t fully focus on anything other than you from across the venue.

Hair let free, cascading over your exposed shoulders, and pretty collarbones out for everyone to see, Jungkook doesn’t think there’s anyone in comparison when it comes to you. The head attached to those graceful shoulders holds so much intelligence, always teaching him something new with each encounter he has with you, and he truly feels grateful to have met someone like you.

“Hey,” one of the dudes calls out, interrupting Jungkook’s dreamy gaze in your direction. “Hottie at 6:00.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, lazily turning to where the guy points out, along with the other three guys with him. It’s both Horny—Hyunae (he has to remind himself to stop saying that because you keep engraving it into his head) with another one of your relatives (Jungkook can’t keep up with all their names). “Which one?” the one dude with purple hair queries.

“Both,” the original guy says, smirking as he takes another sip of his drink before nudging Jungkook. “You tryna get one and I get the other?”

“Hey, what about me?” the purple hair guy looks at him with a confused expression. “Am I not hot enough?”

“In comparison to him? Nah. I’d rather have him as my wingman. You see the tattoos on his hands? Probably makes those girls’ panties wet in mere seconds.”

Jungkook waves them both off. “Nah, count me out. I got another one I’m targeting.”

The first guy scoffs, putting his drink beside Jungkook, more intrigued by him than the girls now. “Interesting. You have another girl in mind? Who is it? I wanna see.”

Without hesitation, Jungkook gestures to your direction, straightening his posture when he sees you turning, giving him a small wave before going back to the guests again, shaking their hands and giving them your lovely smiles.

“The bride’s sister?”

“Shit, I know her. That’s a stretch.”

He can’t help but let out a laugh, shaking his head at the guys, lifting his beer up in the air. “Wanna see my game? Since you think I’m hot enough to land any girl, right? Watch this.”

With that, he makes his way over to you, and when you turn to him with a smile that’s softer, warmer than the ones you’ve been handing off to the guests, he feels his heart blooming more than all the flowers at the venue. He’s never felt like this before—this thing happening inside of him where his chest is tight, stomach doing flips despite not being nervous about anything, other than just being in close proximity. Have you always been this pretty?

A hand on your waist, you pat his chest comfortingly before resuming back to your activities, and Jungkook turns to give a wink at the guys who stand in awe, mouths dropped at his game.

If they only knew.

He wasn’t the one that caught you. You caught him.

The weekend was nice, you have to admit; spending time with your family (even though they were super judgemental at times) and seeing your sister get happily married was blissful.

But all good things come to an end.

Holding the end of your clipboard against yourself, you’re skimming through the patient’s chart with previous notes made by the doctor, orders on what she should be more cautious about, and directions on how to prevent another instance. Yet, she’s here. In a room in the ER, claiming to have liver issues yet again.

“This is your second time here, Lisa,” you purse your lips, taking a seat on the swivel stool. “What’s up? I thought the last doctor told you to cut your alcohol intake. Even the specialist said the same thing.”

“I did!” She exclaims defensively.

You drop the clipboard onto the tray beside you before crossing your arms, “... so how’d you do that? How much were you drinking instead?”

“What do you mean? I just ran a knife through it while pouring.”

You almost gave yourself a physical facepalm, but your job description doesn’t have ‘make patients feel dumb’ or ‘call them fucking idioits’ in it, unfortunately.

After following the procedures to take care of Lisa, you’ve sent her off to proper care. Leaving her room, you let out a heavy sigh, pumping a couple squirts of hand sanitizer from a bottle that sits at the nurses’ station when you notice Nurse Hyerim peering at you suspiciously. “Uh… yes, Hyerim?”

“So, about Dr. Hyunjin—”

“Mm,” you hum teasingly, resting your forearms against the counter, a smirk tugging on the edges of your lips. “Dr. Hyunjin’s name seems to come out of your mouth quite frequently. Are you going to ask me if I’m going on a date with him again? Just out of curiosity and thirst for drama to share through the grapevine? Or perhaps…” your wag your finger jokingly before pointing at her. “... you’re interested in Dr. Hyunjin and wanna take him out on a date.”

Hyerim is stuttering, words unable to escape from her mouth properly. “I-Uh, I—”

“Mm, if that’s the case, then no, I am not seeing him again, and you’re more than welcome to hit that.”

In disbelief, she puffs a breath of air that blows her hair away from her face. “Wh—What? It’s not even like that! What about you? What happened between the two of you?”

You shrug nonchalantly, playing with the pens in the plastic holder. “Nothing just… you know.”

This time, it’s Nurse Hyerim’s turn to taunt you. “Does this… have to do with that pretty boy from 18B?”

“I mean…” just the thought of Jungkook has your face heated. The two of you haven’t been able to have a proper conversation about what happened the day at the wedding, what he professed, and how you felt in return. “Would it be crazy? You know. For the two of us to be together. Insane, right?”

Hyerim’s confused. “What? You do realize you’re two hot people… right?”

“It’s not even like that.”

“Well, what’s the problem?” She tilts her head, puzzled. “Does he still not want to be your boyfriend?”

“Uh, actually, he wants to date now.”

Hyerim slams her hand on the counter, completely baffled. A couple heads turn and you wince internally. “Are you kidding? No offense doc, you’re hella smart but also very stupid. We’re talking about hottie in 18B here—“ geez, you’re praying no one is currently occupying 18B right now “—the one that has that rep of being a ‘fuckboy’ and I don’t even have to know him to know that. He wants you, bitch you better go for that before someone else snatches him.”

“Did you just call me a bitch?”

“Heat of the moment. You get it.”

“Mm,” you hum because everything Hyerim is saying isn’t new information. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll talk to him tonight. Maybe. We’ll see.”

Jungkook mentions prior to your lunch break that he’ll be over tonight, but “later. gotta take care of some stuff back at my apartment.” And at first, you considered waiting patiently in your living room, wine on the table and maybe in some cute ass lingerie and a silky robe—but why wait when you can just… go to him?

Of course, you’re not insane. It's been chilly recently these nights, so you’re not going to go strutting in lingerie underneath a thin ass robe. But, you’ll sport those jeans he says makes your ass look juicy, and a comfortable long sleeve to get him thinking that nothing will happen at the end of the night. (Spoiler: dirty things are going to happen that night.)

But you’re starting to learn from your mistakes, something that they teach you throughout all of your education career, from preschool up to high school, and even in college. They teach you in books; the life lesson is to learn from your mistakes and try your best not to make them again.

So, when Jungkook opens the door, completely shocked and unsure what to say, you’re left speechless too.

He didn’t lie—you make this very clear, but he wasn’t being entirely candid and open either.

Because that girl that stabbed him—the one that caused the scar in his abdomen, the one that made you be the one to tend to his wounds, is sitting in the dining room, with who you assume is her parents, all dolled up for the occasion while the mother lays the dishes on the glass table.

“What—What’s happening?” That’s all you can say. Well, what else could you say? You’re a doctor. You should keep your composure—acting out only makes you look bad and what if the cops come? A doctor getting arrested?

To be fair—you’re not that intense to warrant a visit from the cops.

But nonetheless, you’re fuming.

“Baby,” he whispers softly, shutting his door behind him to push you out into the hall. “I thought I said we’d meet after I take care of some things.”

“Take care of some bitch like she’s your girlfriend?” What the fuck is this guy talking about? How dense is he? “You got her parents in there too? What is this? Meet-the-boyfriend dinner? Did you come to my place for practice or what?”

“Baby,” Jungkook says again, quieter. “Relax. I actually wanted to talk to you about this tonight.”

“Bullshit—“

“Fuck! Alright, I know it was wrong of me and I should’ve told you earlier, but I thought she was over it and I cut her off, okay? I didn’t know she’d bring her fucking parents here!”

If having question marks above your head was an action that occurred in real life, now would be the time for them to appear. “Huh?”

“Can we talk about this later?” He says, those chocolate pools he calls his eyes are pulling you in, and in mere seconds, you’re already drowning in the sweetness. "I know it sounds insane, but there's a very good reason why I'm being so shady about this. It's not because I don't like you, or that I'm playing you either. I just... this is an embarrassing side of me and I really just want to figure this out before I make... us work."

You suck in your cheeks in defeat. He has a way with words, you admit, but you're starting to feel like he's testing his chances with you. “11:00PM. Sharp. If you’re not at my doorstep by then, you can consider this done.”

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#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #gyukultfics #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts

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lovelybarnes · 3 years ago

Text

stood up- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days

every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.

with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?

you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”

you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.

pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.

while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.

you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.

you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.

the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.

as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.

“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”

your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.

“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”

“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”

you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?

you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.

“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”

“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”

you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”

bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.

he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.

the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.

“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”

“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”

a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”

bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”

“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”

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sin-of-jess · 3 years ago

Note

I have been CRAVING some Lesbian action SO

Fem!reader x Rumi Usagiyama/Mirko

Scenario: Mirko has been paying no mind to you due to work so you become a bit attention hungry and you end up grinding on her leg (Or somewhere along those lines)

I'm begging ya'll to bring me more lesbian requests!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you're in a serious relationship with a pro-hero you expect time to pass where you don't see them due to their work, but you don't quite realize how bad it is when they're in the top 10 for heroes. Rumi Usagiyama and I shared a high-end apartment near the top floor. It was a nice life, only needing to work part-time thanks to Rumi's hero work.

It didn't fix how lonely I felt when she was gone a lot. When she wasn't at work she was at the gym training. She popped in for dinner some nights and went to sleep right after, and it's begun to make me feel a little touch starved.

It was a late night for her again, it was after midnight when she walked in and gave a halfassed hello before stepping into the bathroom to shower. I was a bit miffed, and I found it hard to keep the scowl off my face as she came to join me in bed. "What's with you?" She asks.

I frown at her, "You know it's been like a week since you've even kissed me for more than half a second?"

She sighs as she sits criss-cross, "The agency has been busy lately with the League poking their heads back out."

I turn slightly away from her, "I get that, but you've ignored any attempt I've had to be close; you have to know it hurts my feelings."

"Ahh my sweet little doll," She coos at me as she grabs me by the hips and begins to guide me into her lap. What I wasn't expecting was for her knee to feel so good when my clothes crotch slid across. The softest of moans came out and I felt a blush bloom on my face. I was faced away from her, so I couldn't see the surprised, then amused look that crossed her face, "Has my baby missed this?" She asks as she wraps her arms around me.

I hope she hasn't noticed anything and continue to give her the cold shoulder; if Rumi could go this long without giving physical attention then I could hold off on letting her off the hook. She didn't seem to mind that reaction, instead, she gently pried my crossed arms apart and starts putting her hand under my shirt and onto my bare stomach.

She uses her other hand to move my hair away from my ear, "Just relax, doll. Let me make it all better..." She mumbles into my ear before gently biting my lobe. She starts kissing my neck as she begins massaging my stomach and hip.

She's always been able to play me like a fiddle, and tonight is no different. In moments she had me relaxing against her body as she removes my shorts and underwear in one go. She goes straight to my clit, swirling her finger around it before adjusting so that she can slide a digit into me. "Look at how wet you are and I've barely touched you, my little doll really did miss me!" She teases as she starts to pump her finger. I squirm in her lap as she pleasures me.

"R-Rumi..." I breathe out, the smell of her freshly washed hair surrounding me. As she adds a second finger I start to move my body in sync with her fingers, and when she moves her thumb so that it's constantly rubbing my clit as she pumps her hand I wail out.

It doesn't take long for her to make me a panting, moaning mess in her lap as she encourages me with her words, "That's it my sexy doll, keep working yourself. I want to see you soak my lap with your pussy," She speaks into my ear. It's all so erotic and I quickly come undone, my back arching and dropping my head onto her shoulder as she works me through my orgasm.

As I'm trying to catch my breath I start to move off of her lap, but instead of letting me she grabs me by the hips, "What makes you think I'm done with you?" She asks before shimmying down so that she's laying on the bed, her guiding me so that I was facing away from the headboard, her face only a few inches from my dripping pussy. She dives in enthusiastically, her grip on my hips tight as she pulls me to sit down on her face.

At first I grind on her, our energy matched as I swivel my hips in order to get more sensation. I drop my hands down to the bed, arching my back as her mouth follows my hole. With this vantage point, I can see the damp spot on Rumi's pale yellow panties. I lick my lips at the sight, deciding it's been far too long since I've tasted her delicious petals.

Not wanting to pause anything by removing her bottoms I just pull the underwear to the side, her engorged clit visible from between her lips. I latch my mouth onto it, swirling my tongue around it before giving her a long lick down her slit to shovel her juices into my mouth. My taste buds are alive with the flavor of her pussy, and the suction she has on my clit is released when I lean in to have better access to the hole leaking the juices I crave.

I spread her legs out, plunging two fingers in, and immediately find the spongy spot a few knuckles back. I focus on that spot as I go back to sucking on her clit, my own pussy clenching at the sounds of her heavy moans. She tries to play with my pussy, but my determined efforts to make her cum has her distracted. She's got her fingers inside me, but she's barely able to keep up a steady pace as I worship her body with my mouth and fingers.

Her legs start to shake and move at the same time her pussy starts to convulse, and I ignore the burn in my arm as I try and speed up as much as I can. I barely stay on top of her as she finally cums, her body bucking as she screams out my name in pleasure.

Once her body drops back into the mattress I roll off her, but instead of relaxing into the sheets, I'm suddenly yanked closer to Rumi's eager face. "Who said I'm done with that pretty little pussy?"

#mirko x reader #mirko smut #mirko x female reader #x lesbian reader #female x female

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celestialrry · 4 years ago

Text

stood up

3.5k

hello everyone!!!! I've been awol for literally weeks because i had absolutely NO motivation to write but i finally finished this piece ˊᗜˋ so YAY. ALSOO thank you for following me, liking, and reblogging my pieces (it encourages me somuchsothankyouireallyappreciateit-- and remember reblogging really helps us writers :))) ) here’s a hug for all ur patience and feel free to send me asks or requests i love talking to you guys! ε(♡'-')з

summary: Harry keeps standing Y/N up. (request from @ballerinrry! thank u love)

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and sex, angsty but with a happy ending cause for some reason i can never let them end on a bad note

Y/N was excited.

It had been a while since Harry had asked her to go on a date, it was always the other way around recently. She couldn’t blame him though, Y/N knew just how busy Harry always was, and it wasn’t like he was purposefully not asking her to go do things, he just had a lot on his plate.

That’s what she kept telling herself anyways.

It’s what she told herself when it had been 2 weeks since they had even eaten a meal together, and given the fact that just a few months ago Harry had come back to London for a while, that was rare. So, Y/N asked him to grab lunch on a Saturday while they were lying in bed together, and when he agreed, but failed to show up, leaving Y/N sitting at the cafe, her lips morphed into a frown and her eyes not focusing on the phone in front of her, she told herself he was simply booked up with meetings and studio time and such.

Thats what he told her when he got into bed that night to apologize for accidentally standing her up. She forgave him, of course, and suggested they could just get dinner the next week. He agreed, even walked around to his calander her to show her he was marking the date off in his calendar with a heart, her first initial, and 7:00 PM etched into the little box with red sharpie.

So, the week passed with quick kisses of good mornings and good nights, and while Harry was gone Y/N had on a black dress she had been excited to wear for a while now, with those little mini silver heels and a coat strung over her shoulders as she sat on her couch waiting for Harry to swing by to pick her up. She shot him a text that simply asked “You otw? xx”

He was not.

It took about 30 minutes of waiting on their couch to realize he was standing her up, again. And it took until the next morning for Harry to see her text (his phone had been on do not disturb while he was at the studio and he ended up spending the night at Sarah and Mitch’s after a few beers), and for the guilt to seep through his veins.

He apologized, again. And Y/N forgave him, again.

Only until it got to the point where Y/N no longer remembered the amount of times Harry had stood her up, for being at the studio, or sleeping after a meeting, or simply just not paying attention to his phone, she knew there was a problem.

Harry was fully aware of the problem too. He knew that this was no way to ever treat a partner, and if someone was doing this to him, he’d dump them— well, he’s never been one to end a relationship unless it was necessary, so that’s an exaggeration, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Which is why when he got home one day around 11 PM, gave her a kiss to the forehead after she sat up in their bed to give him a hug, and a soft “Can we talk?” escaped her lips, he knew he had to fix this. So he asked her if they could talk over dinner the next night, he just wanted to sleep but also wanted to fix things with his girl, asking her if she was free of course, before telling her he’s gonna make a reservation at that nice restaurant the two of them used to go to quite often, because “it’s been a while since I’ve taken my favorite girl out”.

A grin broke out on her face because he had asked her! And if Harry was planning it, there’s no way he’d cancel or stand her up.

So yeah, Y/N was excited.

She woke up that morning with a smile on her face, and something akin to a what she thinks a rainbow would feel like running through her veins. It had only been a few months since she’d last been on a date with her boyfriend of almost 2 years and a half in person, and she was going to make the most of it. Because after this date, things would change. They’d spend more time together again and it would be like this little bump (that neither had acknowledged) never happened.

Y/N did, well, everything to prepare. Took a long shower, shaved, put on that coconut lotion Harry likes— he tended to dig his face in her neck when he smelled it while holding her—, brushed her teeth more than 3 times, dug in her closet to find that one patterned soft purple dress she bought ages ago but never had a change to wear it, until now, put on those really cute heels Harry said he liked once (“Looks like something you’d wear on a runway pet, I love ‘em.”), and even styled her hair differently than normal.

He had told her he would swing by at 8 on the dot after the studio, and soon enough, it was 8, with no sign from the man who made the promise himself. Y/N thought maybe there was traffic, he was just running late, texted him a quick, “Can’t wait to see you!! xxx” and put her phone on the coffee table, waiting on their couch.

8 turned to 9, 9 turned to 10, 10 turned to 11, and soon it was midnight. Y/N doesn’t think she’d ever felt more empty than how she felt then, walking to their shared room of a year, slipping off her heels and tossing them towards the closet, as well as pulling her dress over herself and letting it fall to the floor behind her, grabbing that one t-shirt she always wears when she needs comfort (which just happened to an extra 2018 Live on Tour shirt Harry had laying around that she snatched just 3 months into them dating), and flopping into bed.

She couldn’t fall asleep, and instead spent her time curled up in their bedsheets, a steady flow of tears making their way down her blush covered cheeks.

。:°ஐ

Harry usually didn’t make mistakes.

Sure, he had his moments, grabbing the wrong coffee off the counter when his name was called at the cafe, forgetting to text Jeff that he actually couldn’t make it to a meeting that was scheduled in a few hours. Just little things, things that didn’t matter that much, and could always be fixed. He didn’t usually make mistakes that weren’t easy to fix. He just wasn’t that kind of guy.

Until, he was.

Harry loved Y/N. He loved having her around, loved spending time with her, loved loving on her, loved kissing her, loved touching her, loved the way she went about almost everything. He was so in love with her, that hurting her was out of the question. He never wanted to be the one to make her cry, make her bottom lip quiver before the tears rushed out like he’d seen many times before, due to movies, his songs (which as sadistic as it sounds was an ego builder to have someone so close to him so affected by the music he wrote), her school work, or even her friends that weren’t being so nice.

In fact, he was so in love with her, even being so afraid of commitment (it took him over a year of them dating to ask her to move in), all he wanted to do was blurt out those 4 dreaded words. “Will you marry me?” It was a bond for life, and he was terrified of that, but with Y/N all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his living days with her.

When Harry had come back from being in L.A. for so long and finally being in the same city as his girlfriend back at their home, all they did was spend time together. Every time he saw Y/N all he wanted to do was say those 4 words that he hadn’t even fully come to terms with himself. It was dangerous, and Harry’s self control when it came to Y/N was lacking, so he simply did was every normal person would do in his situation.

He stood her up.

Many more times than he could count, and of course he felt like the shittiest person in the world— shittiest boyfriend in the world—but at least now she can’t possibly be under the impression that he wanted to marry her, which is what he wanted. Or thought he wanted, until Sarah called him up one day after he had stood Y/N up for dinner the night before and told him off. Told Harry just how fucking terrible he made Y/N feel, how unwanted she thought she was, how she felt like they were loosing their relationship, and Harry didn’t know what to do with himself. (Of course Y/N had sobbed to Sarah about it over the phone while she was drunk off the wine she opened 40 minutes after Harry said he would be there, so she really didn’t even remember the conversation).

And later that day Harry had come home, heard her wavering voice asking if they could talk, and decided in his head he would tell her how he felt, how sorry he was, and how he wanted to be with her forever and love her forever if she allowed him. He had a few expectations for their dinner, that Y/N would probably tell him how he’s made her feel, and Harry would apologize, tell her why he did it, explain he thought it was no excuse, then tell her he plans on marrying her (obviously not proposing just yet, but finally bringing up the conversation they had never had even though they were in a serious committed relationship) and they’d go back home, have the most amazing sex ever, and forget about the whole thing.

What Harry didn’t expect was to get a call from Jeff around 5 asking him to come to the studio to fix few vocals, then end up nailing down 2 songs in one night, go to a bar with the band to celebrate, get drunk, then pass out at Mitch and Sarahs flat.

But that’s what happened, according to Mitch, who woke Harry up the very next morning.

“Good morning man, wakey wakey,” Mitch’s teasing tone echoed through Harry’s (what felt like full of vodka) brain as he groaned and squinted his eyes. “Why are you waking me up at this hour in the morning?” Harry asked drearily, sighing and simultaneously regretting last night as a whole because the last thing he wanted to do while hungover was be up before at least 9 AM.

“We’ve gotta go to meet with Jeff about tour in like a hour, H” Mitch stated .

At Mitch’s words Harry sat up on their couch, eyes wide in fear. “Wait mate, I thought tha’ meeting was on Wednesday.”

“It is Wednesday H, god how drunk did we let you get last night…” Mitch said, beginning to recount some of Harry’s antics the night before. Harry however, couldn’t hear a thing with the blood pumping through his ears. If today was Wednesday, that meant yesterday was Tuesday, and he went and got trashed at a bar with his friends Tuesday night when— when he was supposed to be on a date with Y/N, when he was supposed to confess his intentions, when he was supposed to apologize for standing her up over and over, yet instead he went and did it again.

Now this, this was a mistake.

“…H. H. Harry? Are you there?” Mitch’s voice came back into focus and Harry shook his head. “I- fuck, I was supposed to take Y/N out last night.” Harry said, his voice trembling.

‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you, it’s just one night.” Mitch tried to make Harry feel better. He knew Y/N was a very forgiving person, she would get over this in no time.

“No, she won’t. I-I’ve stood her up for the past month and a half, Mitch.”

At these words, Mitch stands straight up making pained eye contact with Sarah in the kitchen who was overhearing most of this conversation with her eyes wide. She had no idea it was this bad. “Month and a half? I thought it was just that one time a few weeks ago, Harry what the hell is wrong with you?” Harry simply shook his head and didn’t reply. He had absolutely no idea how to make it up to her. “I-fuck, I don’t know Mitch!” Harry raised his voice. “I need to see her and apologize, now.” Harry said, standing up and rushing over to the front door and slipping on his shoes.

“This meeting is mandatory Harry, as much as I want you to see her too, she’d probably still asleep, and I don’t think this can be solved in under an hour.” Mitch said calmly, already knowing Harry was close to walking out his door. Harry stayed silent for a moment, weighing the options. Either go apologize to his girlfriend, or prioritize himself over her again.

“We can do it another day, I’m sorry, but I have to go see her, tell Jeff I feel sick.” And he walked out without another word.

。:°ஐ

The morning after Harry stood Y/N up again was brutal.

She stayed up all night, replaying moments with Harry in her head, analyzing if he wanted to be there with her, wondering if maybe he felt like he had to stay with her out of pity. It was torture, and the pain seemed to turn into numbness as time went by, and eventually the sun came up, and she stayed in bed, her motivation lost.

A loud crash and “Fuck!” woke her up, swollen eyes fluttering open to the invasive noise. Y/N furrowed her brows, her mind connecting everything that happened yesterday and unfortunately reminding her of the unbearable pain she went through the night before. A groan escaped her lips as she sat up and flung her legs out of her bed sheets that had been flung off the bed in the middle of the night. She began grumbling to herself as she made her way downstairs, ready to tell Harry off for making so much noise.

Her mouth stopped moving, and instead remained in limbo as her eyes met Harry’s. His mouth opened to speak, but his words were caught in his throat as he saw the state she was in. It was when her mouth pressed into a line that he could begin talking. “Y/N, baby, please I know you don’t wanna see me or talk t’me right now but I’m so fuckin’ sorry, love. So so sorry, it was an accident, I went t’ the studio to fix a few things then got hung up on the songs and by the time we went to celebrate I completely lost track of time, and I was too drunk to drive home so I crashed at Mitch’s.”

Her mouth fell open at his words. Everything was happening too fast. Hearing that he stood her up to drink at a fucking bar to celebrate himself, then coming home and accidentally knocking over a glass in their kitchen (which she put together was the crash earlier after seeing the shards of broken glass on the floor) frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him any longer, and Harry had stopped talking after realizing what he just admitted to her. Without another glance, instead of looking at Y/N’s tear stained face, all he saw was her back, walking up the stairs to their room.

“Fuck,” He said to himself before following her up the pink stairs. “Y/N, love wait-please, I’m so sorry, I just need to talk to you, I need to explain myself, please.” He begged as she shut their bedroom door in his face, his voice turning into a desperate whine at the end.

。:°ஐ

It’s been 3 days since then, and she hasn’t spoken to him. He would leave in the mornings, kissing her forehead and mumbling an “I love you” and telling her exactly what time he’d be home, before leaving and coming back on time to find an empty plate in the sink and her lying in their bed, whether it be reading, scrolling on her phone, or typing on her laptop. He would apologize many times, reaching his hand out for hers and she would simply situate herself in their bed and lay down, back turned to him.

Harry just couldn’t take it anymore.

It was when she had finally let him kiss her forehead goodnight that he decided to take his chance. “Y/N.” He spoke softly, with no response or anything to indicate she heard him. “Baby, can we please talk- or I’ll talk and you listen, I just- I really need to say some things.”

She was still faced away from him when he leaned against their headboard and he decided to keep going.

“I- um. I’m sure you know how sorry I am, but I really am- sorry I mean. Not just for tonight but for every other time I’ve stood you up. I’m so sorry for not showing you how much you matter to me, and how much the things you do matter to me.”

It was then that she slowly sat up next to him and looked at him, eyes begging him to continue. He blushed at her intense eye-contact that he had barely gotten over the past few days and took a breath, opting to look at his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“We’ve been together for 2 and almost a half years, which is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and it’s no excuse to treat you this way, but I had just been thinking about how things progress even further than now,” He coughs. “Which is marriage, and when I finally came home, all I wanted to do was ask you to marry me- I don’t- m’not proposing right now, I just- I got really scared because wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone is crazy to me,

I’ve never thought that way about anyone else until you, I didn’t even really want to get married before you, and I started to distance myself before I ended up telling you this, but obviously that blew up in my face.” He chuckled a bit, locking eyes with her unreadable ones for a moment and lifting a hand to run through his hair. “What I’m trying to say, is that I love you, so so much, and I plan on marrying you— obviously if you want to too, of course— and I’m so sorry for trying to make you think that I didn’t care about you anymore or love you any less, because it’s the complete opposite of that.”

His eyes were watery now, as he started down at his interlocked fingers, and his eyes widened when her hand was gently placed over his own. “Harry,” Y/N began. “Look at me, please.”

His head lifted to see her facing him, her brows knitted and a small smile on her face. “I forgive you, okay? I could tell you were kind of scared of commitment when we first started dating, and I wish I could say your reason for standing me up is surprising but it’s not.” They both chuckled a bit at this. “I- I’m still upset at you, I need you to know that, because 2 months of thinking the love of your life is avoiding you doesn’t feel all too great, so you suck for that,” she said, planting a quick kiss to his cheek which quickly turned pink. “But Harry, even if you asked me to marry you a year ago I would have said yes. I love you, so much, and I plan on spending the rest of my life with you as well. I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment, it was… unnecessary and immature. So, thank you for apologizing. I love you.” She confessed again.

“S’okay, I deserved it, and I love you too. Maybe even more. So um, we’re okay?” Harry asked, a hopeful smile on his face.

She nodded with a smile and pulled him into a much needed hug and pulled away only for him to bring her into an even more needed kiss. “If you ever try to pull that shit again, I’m breaking up with you.” She laughed and he tackled her into the sheets hiding his face in her neck.

“Duly noted, love. Duly noted.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #Harry Styles #harry styles angst #im pretty proud of this one #if I do say so myself #harry styles fanfiction #its kinda short tho sorry

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fruitcoops · 3 years ago

Text

Night Changes

This isn't based on an ask, but I've had some early-Cap ideas brewing and think about the first time the team heard him laugh a lot. His and James' friendship is so sweet in SW--the beginning of it must have been such a shock to them both. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

So maybe James had bitten off more than he could chew. It wasn’t the first time, to be sure, but coaxing (read: drag kicking and screaming) his new teammate out of the carefully-constructed mosaic of scowls that made up his entire personality was proving to be a little more challenging than he previously expected. With most rookies, all it took was some elbow grease and overenthusiastic inclusion in group events to get them to open up—with his brand-new soon-to-be best friend, he had to handle things a little more delicately.

Sirius Black was a puzzle wrapped up in one of those freaky code-breaking machines from World War Two Lily liked to talk about. He was one of the best hockey players James had ever seen, but off the ice he seemed to shut down. The intense focus on his face smoothed out into almost perfect neutrality, and in the four months since he joined the Lions, he had never once smiled for real in front of the team. He sat in his stall and padded up in silence, then went out and kicked ass before following Pascal home like a living shadow.

Naturally, James took it as a personal mission to pry Sirius Black’s closed-off persona open like a stubborn oyster. He tried including Sirius in group events—the rookie went along with a quiet “yeah, sure”, but sat at the table and nursed a single drink for the entire night. He tried getting into friendly banter with him on the ice, but it was like Sirius had never joked with anyone in his life. Hell, he even tried finding him a girlfriend, which tanked harder than the goddamn Titanic.

“Rookie!” James shouted down the hallway.

Sirius jumped and turned around, obviously confused. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” James laughed, jogging over to toss an arm over his shoulders. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

He waited for Sirius to continue, then rolled his eyes and gave him a friendly shake. “C’mon, man, how was your weekend? Has Dumo coerced you into being a stay-at-home babysitter yet?”

Sirius’ frown deepened. “What? I come with him to practice every day.”

Change tactics, change tactics— “Got any plans for Friday?”

James knew the answer, of course; it was always no or not yet or a simple shake of the head. If he was a less observant man, he would have assumed Sirius didn’t actually want to hang out with the team. But the longing looks toward their easy rhythm and the way he always tilted himself toward locker room conversations told a different story. “None yet,” Sirius said with a shrug.

James gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Good, ‘cause I’m having a party at my place and you’re not allowed to miss it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to be there, duh.” The bewilderment didn’t fade from Sirius’ face, but beneath it—well, maybe James was just seeing things, but he looked almost hopeful. He ruffled Sirius’ hair and headed for the locker room. “Friday at five, rookie! I’ll be waiting!”

The week passed in a slog of practices and cold weather. Sirius clammed up more and more as the party drew closer, but James didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered between the rest of them like he was analyzing a play. He would make one hell of a captain someday, if he could just relax a little.

“Hey, rookie, want a ride?” he asked when the big day finally arrived.

“Don’t you want to go home and set up first?” Sirius’ brow furrowed. For an eighteen-year-old kid, he was awfully thoughtful. James couldn’t wait to see him let loose a little. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“It’s a yes or no question,” he teased, poking the bit of exposed shoulder through the widening hole in Sirius’ under armor.

“I…” He faltered, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. It was the closest thing James had seen to a smile from him yet. One point for Potter. “Sure, Pots. Thanks.”

“No problem. Meet me at my car in five or so, yeah?”

“D’accord.”

“Oho, fancy French,” James laughed, turning back to unlace his skates.

It wasn’t until thirty seconds after Sirius left the room that he remembered he never told the rookie what his car looked like. Horrible, terrible visions of the poor guy wandering around the parking lot—or, god forbid, thinking James had left without him—flashed through his mind. It would undo everything he had been working so hard to build.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath as he shoved his gear into his duffel with reckless abandon and hurried out of the locker room. His legs would be stiff from trying to run so soon after a grueling drill practice, but it was worth it to save his friend. “Rookie? Hey, Sirius, you still here?”

There was no response. James cursed again and made a beeline for the door to the parking lot. Please, God, don’t let him get lost. I need him to trust me.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he panted as he burst out onto the half-frozen concrete.

Sirius looked up from his phone with a strange expression. “Are you okay?”

“Thought I lost you for a sec.”

“You said to meet at your car, yes?” He glanced between James and the car in sudden worry.

“Yeah, yes, absolutely, I just—” He made an aborted gesture and dug his keys out of his pocket. “I realized I forgot to tell you which one is mine.”

Sirius blinked at him. “I know what your car looks like.”

“How?”

“Because you drive it here every single day and you gave me a ride three weeks ago.”

‘Dumbass’ went unsaid, but James could feel it hanging in the air. He coughed lightly. “Right. Anyway, you can toss your bag wherever and hop in the passenger seat. My place isn’t far from here.”

Sirius took his duffel as he unlocked the car and settled both in the trunk with more care than James’ poor, battered bag had ever seen in its life. That was another thing that confused him about Sirius Black—he was so careful. He walked quietly for someone so tall, and each movement seemed pre-planned.

Each movement, that is, until he tried to get in the car. “Uh, Pots?”

“That’s m—oh.” James covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as Sirius tried to fold himself into the passenger seat and failed miserably. “I’m sorry, my girlfriend was sitting there last. Uh, there’s a lever on your right—yeah, there, just give it a pull and—”

With a harsh ka-chunk, the seat slid all the way back. Both men froze. It took everything in James’ power not to burst out laughing at the deer-in-headlights shock on Sirius’ face.

“Yep, that one,” he managed. “Nice job.”

They drove in relative quiet—James chattered on about weekend plans and hummed to the radio while Sirius watched out the window with the occasional monosyllable response. It took James a bit by surprise how comfortable he was, even without a steady stream of banter. Sirius might have been stubborn and silent and determined to foil all James’ plans at getting him to socialize, but he was calming to be near, like an anchor on unsteady water. Despite his overall quiet air, he was obviously paying attention to every word that left James’ mouth.

“You’re a good guy, y’know that?” he said as they turned onto his street. Sirius glanced over in surprise. “Most people tune me out within, like, five minutes.”

“I’m a good listener.”

James opened his mouth to respond, then paused. “Was that—Sirius Black, was that a joke?”

Something akin to mischief—mischief!—crossed his face. “Maybe.”

“Were you roasting me?” James gaped at him. “Oh my god. The guys are never gonna believe this.”

“Probably not.”

“You sick bastard. They won’t believe me.”

“You can give it a shot,” Sirius said with a shrug as the engine turned off. Pieces began to connect in James’ head as he stared, incredulous, at the rookie he thought would never even crack a smile. Four months of work had not been wasted, as he had feared; every joke, every one-sided conversation, and every attempt to get Sirius involved had been seen and heard and taken to heart. When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sirius actively agree to something unless James asked personally.

“We’re friends,” he said aloud, too surprised and too happy to hold it in. Not friends in the way James was with the rest of their loud, over-the-top teammates, but friends all the same.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius said as if it was obvious.

James unbuckled his seatbelt and socked him lightly on the shoulder, barely suppressing a shriek of excitement. “Love you, man. Grab your shit, we’ve got a party to set up.”

----------------

As much as it pained James to say it, having someone around who was six-foot-three was a huge help. There was no blow to his pride as he dragged Lily’s stepstool out; no grudging acceptance that he simply couldn’t reach those last two inches on the wall. Instead, he could foist any and all responsibility on his brand-new best friend in the whole wide world and focus on the things that mattered, like putting anything breakable or important far away from the grubby hands of his inebriated teammates.

His success was still ringing in his ears when the guests finally arrived—throughout the evening, James rode the high of accomplishing his mission to pull Sirius Black into his tight-knit circle. Every minute of those four months was worth it.

Midnight came and went, and by one-thirty in the morning James’ cramped living room was packed with tipsy hockey players in a vague imitation of a circle. “Non, non, I’ve gotta good one,” Dumo said, hiccupping. The room fell quiet as he leaned forward. “What do you call a body of water with a chicken in it?”

“What?” Kasey whispered, starry-eyed like a kid at Christmas.

“A swimming pool.”

The room stayed quiet, and then someone started to laugh. Slowly, they all turned to the source of the noise, and James felt a ripple of shock roll through the team as Sirius snorted. “It’s a swimming pool,” he said around a smile, his accent thick from three drinks. He had a nice laugh; James could get used to hearing it. “Like—poule, like chicken?”

His whole face was alight with happiness. James wasn’t sure whether to cry or cheer. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, he thought. That look, right there. Sirius fit in among the group like a missing piece of their puzzle, snickering away as if he hadn’t been stoically silent a day in his life. His laugh was downright bubbly.

“I don’t think they get it,” Dumo said into the rim of his cup.

Sirius shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “D’accord, so—so ‘chicken’ in French is poule, yeah? So a chicken in a body of water is a swimming poule. Do you get it now?”

A few oh’s of understanding washed over them, but several people continued to stare. “Too drink for this,” Sergei grumbled, though James could see the smile pulling at his mouth as Sirius turned to him with bright eyes.

“But it’s funny!” Sirius protested, so earnest it made James’ heart hurt.

“I think it’s funny, rookie,” he assured him with a clumsy pat on the arm. “And it’s my house, so I say Dumo gets a point this round.”

Kasey hiccupped. “Hey, anyone who makes the rookie laugh gets points in my book. No offense, dude.”

“None taken,” Sirius said, though his cheeks were pink.

James nudged him with his shoulder as Talker started a knock-knock joke. “It’s okay,” he said under his breath.

Sirius picked at the label on his cup. “I know I haven’t been very social,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” James insisted. “It always takes rookies a while to warm up, so we’re just glad you’re happy. I’m glad my best friend is having a good time at my party.”

A heavy silence fell between them as Sirius looked over, eyebrows raised. “Best friend?”

“What, like you didn’t see this coming?” James slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yes, you French-Canadian nerd, you’re my best friend. And that means I’m your best friend, and there’s no take-backsies.”

“What the hell is a take-backsie?” Sirius laughed. “Did you make that up?”

James grinned. He had the feeling this was the beginning of an excellent friendship.

#sirius black #james potter #pascal dumais #kasey winter #sergei ivanov #thomas walker #rookie #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #pre-cap #friendship

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crankityart · 3 years ago

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Okay, some assistant!reader working with Jayce and Viktor headcanon scenarios (With some Viktor x reader whoops)

The first time you met Viktor and Jayce on the job interview for the open assistant slot, you were quite intimidated by both. Jayce on one hand had become very known around campus and had quite the presence, being outwardly confident and big. Not scary in any way, but intimidating nonetheless.

Viktor on the other hand looked like he would eat you any moment. You didn’t know a lot about him, only that he formerly had been the assistant to Professor Heimerdinger and a brilliant, inventive mind. But every time you saw him from afar he had this stern, almost menacing look on his face. With these sharp, piercing eyes ... a wrong move and he would probably kick you out of the lab.

Well ... so you thought in the beginning. The interview went quite well, both inventors were friendlier and more welcoming than you expected.

When you started working at the lab, you were quite awkward and reserved but you slowly warmed up when the boys started telling you about their shared stories. Like that one time, they went to this young inventor fair and prevented a carriage from exploding. Jayce would mostly begin these tellings, but Viktor always joined in with a few sassy remarks that made you giggle.

An all-time favorite memory was of course the night they broke into Heimerdinger's lab for the hex crystal.

Jayce shook his head and laughed. “Do you remember, Viktor? We ended up being stuck in midair for half an hour!” His partner nodded, reminiscing about the sheer absurdity of this scene. “Oh yeah, I remember someone having to go to the bathroom very badly ten minutes in.” (Oh what fun times :D)

One evening, when the three of you stayed especially late at the lab the boys offered to show you the power of the hex crystal and let you fly a bit in zero gravity. You were nervous at the beginning, but the feeling of being absolutely weightless in midair was just amazing. When you had enough, Viktor managed to turn off the crystal and Jayce caught you in his arms, which made you a little flustered.

Every time you would get stuck and ponder for hours over your notes, Viktor would always sit next to you and help you out. Sometimes he wouldn’t pay attention to how close he was getting while marking your notes and that would always make your heart skip a beat. It would be really hard to pay attention to what he was saying, considering how close his face was to yours.

One time you had spent the entire night working at the lab, racking your brain over an important task. When Viktor entered the lab in the morning, he found you sleeping, face smushed into your notebook. Carefully he touched your shoulder and you immediately shot up. Unfortunately, there was a thick string of saliva hanging down your lip as you realized that you had drooled all over your notes. You wiped it away in pure and utter panic and darted off. You were so embarrassed by this that you couldn’t look Viktor in the eye for the rest of the week.

Speaking of embarrassing situations: There was this one time, where you made a very unfortunate mistake while explaining something to Jayce and Viktor, writing down your thoughts on the board.

You stopped when you heard what you thought was ... giggling? A quick glance at the two inventors behind showed you that for some reason they were trying really hard to hold back their laughter. Oh no, what in the world have you done now?! Jayce cleared his throat, stifling a chuckle. “Uhm, you might want to check your spelling.” It took you a few seconds to find the error in your writing but then it hit you with a wave of heat. You had written “Sextech” instead of “Hextech”. Not once, but thrice. Immediately your head turned beet-red as you grabbed the eraser. “Sorry, it’s quite late ...”, you laughed nervously, glancing at the watch hanging on the wall. It was past midnight after all. “Besides that, your approach definitely has potential, if we iron out the inconsistencies.”, Viktor was the first one to get a hold of himself. Then he came up to the board, holding a piece of chalk in his hand, and started wiggling it in front of your nose like a strict teacher. “Now get your mind out of the gutter, we have some work to do.”, he scolded with a grin, to which you rolled your eyes and shoved his hand away.

Viktor was surprisingly cheeky when he got the chance to, but never in a mean way. You enjoyed the occasional banter between the two of you.

The longer you worked with the two inventors the more familiar you became with their habits. Sometimes after working intensely on his researches, Viktor would crave some caffeine but when he would be about to get up suddenly he would find you standing there beside him, cup in hand.

“Coffee break, I suppose?”, you smirked as you handed him the hot beverage. You had caught him off guard. That much you could tell by the look on his face. “How did you know?” You glanced at the small watch on your wrist. “You usually get something to drink around five past four. And since we’re approaching the evening, it’s not gonna be sweet milk, because that would make you sleepy and hard to concentrate. So a cup of coffee, with a 30 to 70 ratio of milk to coffee and two sugar cubes it is.” The corners of Viktors mouth twitched and turned into a very charming smile. “Huh ... impressive observations, I’ve got to admit.” “And my observations tell me that you’re in desperate need to consume something other than liquid in the next couple of hours. Just saying.” “Okay, okay, you’re right. I should get some lunch.”

________________________________________________________

A/N: That’s all for now, maybe I will make another post. It’s really fun making up these scenarios. -v-

#arcane #arcane headcanon #viktor headcanons #viktor jayce headcanons #viktor x reader #arcane viktor headcanon #arcane reader insert

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raineydays411 · 4 years ago

Text

So warm and tender

Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

A/n: Hello! finally the last part of Ember. I hope you guys like it and sorry for making y’all wait so long for the confrontation lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n’s POV

“Aunt Pam?!” you say in shock as you stop struggling against the vine wrapped around your body.

“Y/n, is it really you?” your aunt said as the vine loosened its grip and gently lowered you on the ground. “ Where have you been? Everyone has been going crazy looking for you”

You don’t answer as you look at your aunt. You didn’t realise you missed her as much as you did but now all you want to do is throw yourself in her arms. So you did.Pam, sensing you needed comfort rather than an interrogation, wrapped her arms around you. “I missed so much my Petal.”

With those five words, all the hurt and pain you bottled up came out. and you cried.

As you cried, your aunt looked at the girl she hasn’t seen in eight years, and wondered what she’s been going through and if she did the right thing by giving you to your father all those years ago.

“Petal, I think you need to explain what’s going on”

You look up and sniff, “ Yeah, i think an explanation is well in order.” and you tell her everything. From the years of being ignored by your father, your last argument, the two weeks you spent in captivity, and your new powers.

“ And that’s when I found you.” You finish looking at the grim faces of Pam and the other woman, who now that you think about it looks really familiar.

“Oh, you poor puddin’!” you found your face being squished between two ands and then you were comically pressed against a body in a tight hug.

“Don’tcha worry bout a thing, me and Pammy will take care of everything, you just sit here and---” This seems familiar...

“ Harley, I don’t think she can breathe.” “Oh right, now you remember, it the blonde woman who used to sneak into the apartment”. You think to yourself as you struggle to get loose from her grip. You hear someone snicker and see Danny looking at the commotion.

“ Shut up Danny, where have you been?” You say, forgetting that you’re the only one who can see him.

“Exploring, do you thing she could hug me like that too?”

“ If you weren’t already dead, I’m sure they would kill you for that comment”

Pam and Harley look at each other in concern as it seems like you’re talking to yourself.

“ Hey kid, if you’re gonna talk to yourself, try an’ do it when other people can’t see you, like me.” The blonde says as if someone talking to themselves was a daily occurrence for her. You explain that with your powers, you were basically dead and can speak and see other dead people. Hearing that, Pam’s expression darkened

“He let you die?” she said in a grim tone. All the vines and plants in the room started whipping around angrily as if they were looking for the person who wronged you. It was then when you realized it wasn’t your Auntie Pam who taught you how to plant petunias you were looking at, this was Poison Ivy.

“ Men, you can never trust em’. Well, whadda say little flower, ya up for a little premeditated murder?” and that was the infamous Harley Quinn.

“ It would’ve been nice to know that you’re related to scary criminals y/n....” Danny said in a fearful voice. And if you were being honest you just found out that your aunt Pam was also the Poison Ivy but to be fair you haven’t seen her since you were like eight.

“I don’t want to kill him” you finally say. “ I don’t want anything to do with him. Nor his precious Spiderling.” The plants calm down as Ivy calmed down and was your aunt Pam again. “ What do you want to do?” she asks.

You think to yourself and say,” I want him to know how he made me feel, and then I want to stay with you.” Your aunt and Harley froze when you said that.

“Petal, there is nothing I want more than for you to stay with me again,” She started, “ But it isn’t safe for you to stay.” Your eyes started to water

“But I-I have powers now, I can defend myself! I won’t be any trouble, it’ll be like I’m not even here” At this point, anything was better than going back to being invisible. “Please...I don’t want to go back...”

Hearing the desperation in your voice broke Pams, Harleys, and Danny's heart. Pam because this was the daughter of her closest friend. She vowed to protect you from anything the day you came to her after losing your mother. Seeing you like this just reminded her how she, in her mind, has failed you. Seeing you so desperate to get away from the man who broke your heart reminded Harley of herself. The nights she would sneak into the tiny apartment you shared with Pammy, in hopes of escape only to get drawn back with empty promises. So yeah, she had a small soft spot for you. And Danny, you were the only person who saw him after months of being invisible. He felt like he needed to help you in your mission to get your father regret ignoring you.

“Hey Pammy...maybe we should call him...” Harley started to suggest.

“NO, I’d rather drink weed killer than go to that...orphan collector for help.” the red head spat. “ No. We’ll figure it out but she can stay here for now.”

Hearing that you had a place to call home now, gave you the motivation to go and confront your father. Not only for ignoring you, but for leaving you in that..cell for two weeks. He didn’t even attempt to look for you as far as you knew. You’d have thought at least one of the other Avengers would have came to save you. But no one came. After all those years, no one came.

“Y/n.. your eyes” Danny whispered, his cold hand touching your arm snapped you out of your mind. The neon glow of your eyes faded to your normal e/c.

“ Aunt Pam, Harley is there any way you guys can get me to New York and back?” You ask, finally ready to confront your father.

“ Well....” Harley say as with a smirk

~~~~~~~~~one terrifying ride on a stolen batplane later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving to New York you made Pam and Harley wait a few blocks away from the tower, as you really didn’t want the Avengers to find out your aunt was a wanted criminal. You “went ghost” as Danny like to call it and snuck into the Tower with ease. You then snuck into your room, seeing everything covered in a layer of dust as no one has been in there for over two weeks. You packed a bag and filled it with some clothes, books and a picture of you and your mother. You took that bag and walked to the door, looking around at the room that was both you prison and safe space. It was decorated with multiple trophies, medals, and ribbons all from the multiple sports and clubs you joined to impress your father. Not like that ever happened. Danny wander around looking at the multiple teams photos you had hung up.

“ You’re a volleyball girl?” he said, “ Huh. I’d never have had guessed.”

You rolled your eyes as you finished packing. “ Hey I have a job for you.” you say turning to him. “ I need you to go to the control room and turn off the power for thirty minutes. Then turn it back on and come find me in the common room.”

“ Yes ma’am” Danny says, saluting and disappearing through the wall before he comes back. “Ummm, wheres the control room?”

You roll your eyes and explain how to get to the control room and wait. When the lights go out and you’ll make your move. Your father would have to pass through the common room to get to the control room from his lab, which you assume he’ll be. There you’ll be waiting for him.

The lights go out. It’s showtime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony's POV

The team spent three more days searching for you. They followed every lead and half of the team even flew out to the building that collapsed an hour ago. Tony, Steve, and Natasha stood behind to look at more clues. It was a little past midnight, and both Steve and Natasha went to bed leaving Tony to tinker in his lab. Tony was making improvements to a certain spider suit as he thought about what his daughter said to him before she went missing.

“Sir, there seems to be someone in Y/--” FRIDAY started to say when the power cut out.

“FRIDAY??” Tony questioned as he walked out to check the control room, making sure to get his nano bracelet just incase. As he walked down the hallway he thought about waking up Steve and if he was brave enough to wake Natasha when he heard it.

“Hi daddy.”

Tony stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up in disbelief. The lights turned back on to reveal his daughter. Wearing a black halter top, spandex leggings, grey boots with elbow length gloves. She looked skinny, as if she hadn’t had a proper meal in the weeks she was gone. And for some reason the air was cold in the room. But there she stood.

‘Y/n” Tony said breathlessly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n pov

As you wait for Tony to walk in,you look around the common room and reminisce. You think about the time when you first moved in, and you got lost trying to find the bathroom and accidently walked into Natashas room. YOu thought she was going to kill you but ended up walking you to the restroom and back to your room. Or when you made the volleyball team way back in eighth grade, and you ran home to tell your dad but ended up telling the whole team, who were rarely all together, and they all took you out to get ice cream, minus Tony. You had to admit, even though your dad didn’t pay attention to you, Nat and Steve did. As well as the whole team, but those two really became the parental figures in your life. That’s why it hurt when not even they came for you. Even they had forgotten you.

“Hi daddy” you said in a mocking voice. Your father stopped dead in his tracks, as he looked you over in disbelief.

“Y/n”, he said in a breathless voice.

“Oh, you remember my name?” You say in an sarcastic tone. “ Didn’t seem like you did when you left me in a hydra cell for two weeks.”

Hearing that you were a prisoner of Hydra made Tony’s blood freeze.

“Hydra? Oh Y/N are you okay? What did they do to you?” He asked frantically as he walk towards you with the intent of checking if you were injured. You jerk away from him, avoiding his touch and say

“ Oh, I’m wonderful. Just so fucking fantastic. I was just experimented on and injected with various liquids that caused excruciating pain. No big deal”

“ Y/n..we spent days trying to look for you. Me and the team--”

“You and the team what Tony? I was there for two weeks. TWO WEEKS I WAS POKED AND PRODDED. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.” You scream, anger filling your heart as you remember the agony you went through. You think about the scratches on the wall of the cells, the taunts from the guards, and screams of the undead.

“ You have no idea what I went through. What I’m going through.” You say, feeling your body grow colder as you lose control and start to shift. “ You don’t care about me. If I were Parker, you would have saved mem within SECONDS.”

“That's not true. Y/N you have no idea how much I love you.” Tony tries to say. He’s filled with the need to tell you everything he didn’t tell you before. “I know I haven’t always been the best father. Trust me I know that now. But if you give me a chance, I want to make everything right. Please.”

You didn’t think it would go like this. In fact you were not at all prepared for Tony to say this. You expected to walk in on him continuing his life as normal, tinkering in his lab and such. You had always yearned to hear him say those words to you. But now, they just fill you with anger.

“You think you could just tell me what I want to hear and what? I’ll just act like nothing happened?? I know you’re not that stupid.” You spit, the room growing colder as you get angrier. “ It’s too late for all that Tony. I’m not the same girl i was two weeks ago.i won;t take it any longer.”

“Y/n..your eyes” Tony says as he slowly starts to put his gauntlet bracelet on, realising that you are becoming a threat.

“ Oh do you like them?”, You ask “ This is what happened when they injected me. I can also do this.” You shift, shades of blue taking over brown skin. Tony stared at you in awe and a bit of fear.

“ Y/n this isn’t you. I know you’re angry but--” “ Isn’t me?” You interrupt.” You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m like. And even if you did the old me died in that cell. Literally I died” You and Tony stared at each other. and that's when you heard the doors open. Two sets of footsteps started rushing to the commotion.

“Y/N some red head and beefy blonde are on their way” You hear Danny say as you realize you had to wrap it up. If anyone can convince you to stay, it’s Steve and Nat.

“ It doesn’t matter anymore Tony.” you say as you start walking to the window. “ I can’t stay here anymore. There’s nothing for me. You win. Peter can be the child you always wanted cause from now on, consider me dead.” and with that, you phase threw the window and let yourself fall, knowing that you won’t actually fall as you can fly.

Tony freaks out and calls for his suit, only to see a blue blur shoot up and across the sky. Then he just sits there and stares. The footsteps reach the common room and he hears someone ask

“ Stark..what was all the yelling. What's going on?”

“she's gone” He says, and that's when he truly realizes his mistake. He became what he never wanted to become. He became his father. And now you were gone.

Taglist: @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

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needleandhammer · 4 years ago

Text

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?��

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #smut #fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

411 notes · View notes

seita · 4 years ago

Text

— don’t ask | hitoshi shinsou (m.)

pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟷𝟹𝟻𝟿𝟶

cw: roommate!au, sugar baby!au

tags: heavy pining, arguments, briefly ft.kaminari, rejection, possessiveness, jealousy, crying, dirty talk, pet names, dom!shinsou, fingering, riding, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise (?), marking, creampie, angst with a happy ending.

note: this is a thank you for 5k followers! i can’t believe i hit such a milestone in only like a month and a half! i appreciate the love and support everyone has given me and i promise to put out more quality content going forwarad!

— you thought it was strange a guy your age made such good money by seemingly doing nothing. whenever you would question him about his income, he’d grow defensive. once a month, a left the house for a few days; leaving to perform a mysterious job he didn’t want you to know about.

⇦ back to navigation

When you saw the flier for someone looking for a new roommate, you honestly thought it was one big scam. You assumed that the second you set up a meeting, you would be kidnapped and never seen again.

Being a lowly college kid meant you didn’t have your sea legs in the adult world quite yet. Swamped with studies, horrible at managing your time and your stress levels, you were left a constant mess. So, your solution was to stick to studying for the most part and work part-time so the job didn’t take up too much of your time.

Another genius idea you had was the age-old roommate situation. You started out looking for listings online for preferably Musutafu or Tokyo. Alas, you came up with nothing after a handful of weeks and were intending to give up.

However, a stop by the grocery store changed everything. It was a flyer for someone looking for a roommate in an area of Tokyo that you knew to be pretty pricey.

It was close enough to your college campus so you wouldn’t have to worry about a stupid commute. You thought it was too good to be true as you looked at the information stating you wouldn’t even need to pay rent. You’d simply have to split some bills and buy your own groceries.

The idea of not having to shell out hundreds of dollars a month was appealing on its own; you’d definitely be able to save with a living situation like that.

The logical side of you was weary, however. The entire thing could be a ploy to trick some unsuspecting victim, like yourself, into who knows what.

Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to contact the person just in case it wasn’t a trick. No harm in checking, you supposed.

Tugging the flyer down from where it was pinned up on the bulletin board, you folded it up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your purse to take care of when you got home from classes.

All of that led you to meeting one Hitoshi Shinsou. He was a tall, tired looking guy around your age. His most prominent feature was the fluffy mess of purple hair that was atop his head. When you first met him, he fixed you with a cold gaze ― his purple irises burning holes into you. And for a second you were sure that you were right on your hunch and you were never going to return home.

Nothing of consequence happened, naturally, and instead he showed you the bedroom you would be using and handed you a key before sitting down on the couch to watch TV. The whole exchange was unlike anything you expected. When you questioned him he simply told you he’d get everything straight for you and that you could begin to move in whenever.

So you did.

As expected of such an expensive apartment, the room you were given was great. It was roomy and nothing like you assumed you would wind up with. Most college students wind up with a shitty roommate, a one-bedroom apartment, and instant ramen for dinner every night.

Instead you got the chillest roommate known to mankind. Shinsou barely even made a peep. Most of the time you found him relaxing in front of the TV watching murder documentaries. You did learn that the poor guy had insomnia and as a result was up almost every night. Sometimes you would catch him snoozing on the couch but that rarely lasted more than 2 or 3 hours before he was up and about once again.

You did learn that the man was a lousy cook so he mostly lived on instant ramen before you moved in. Luckily for him, you enjoyed cooking and decided to be the one to make meals for the two of you. To say Shinsou was appreciative was an understatement.

Simply put, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

And so bloomed an easy friendship with him. Shinsou made it easy to befriend, although he was a quiet guy he was funny and charismatic; the type of guy who probably had a lot of friends.

You lived there for about a month when you noticed the first weird disappearance.

You had been laying in bed, eyes closed as you slowly began to drift off to the white noise of your overhead fan.

What lulled you from your daze was the beep of the alarm at the front door. Sitting up, you listened carefully only to hear a couple beeps and the click of the door shutting.

Frowning, you got out of the bed and wrapped your blanket around your shoulders to shield yourself from the chilled apartment air. Your footsteps were silent as you padded your way to the entryway. You immediately noticed that Shinsou’s shoes were gone from where they should have been sitting beside the front door.

You checked his bedroom to find that he was, indeed, not there. You simply assumed he had gone for a walk or to a convenience store or something since he couldn’t sleep and went back to bed. That was certainly not something uncommon for the insomniac you called a roommate.

When you got up in the morning, however, you noticed he was still gone.

You wandered into the kitchen, intending to open the fridge to start something for breakfast only to find a cute cat-themed sticky note plastered to the front of it. Written in your roommates sloppy handwriting was “I won’t be home for a few days.”

Short and to the point but still causing questions to arise in response.

You had no choice but to carry on. You could text him and question him but you had a feeling you wouldn’t actually get any information.

Two days was how long he was gone for. He turned on the second night, looking as tired as usual.

“I’m home,” he called with a heavy sigh, kicking his shoes off before dropping the heavy duffle bag he carried to the floor.

“Hey,” you greeted over the back of the couch, “I uh...made dinner but I didn’t make any for you. I didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“It’s fine, I already ate anyway,” he hummed, dropping his full weight onto the empty cushion beside you. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

You eyed him and decided to simply not ask about the hickey on his pale skin.

The time ticked past midnight and you stood up, yawning as you stretched, “I’m heading to bed.”

“Alright,” he mumbled, finally stealing the remote from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey…” you paused at the entrance to the hallway, deciding to chance it, “Where did you go anyway?”

“...To work,” he replied, simply.

His tone held a sense of finality to it, leaving no room for you to inquire exactly what that meant. So, with a final bid, you went to your bedroom.

It was almost like deja vu, laying in bed as you fell asleep only to hear the beeping of that alarm. You sat up and climbed out of bed, intending to catch Shinsou before he was gone but as you reached the living room, you heard the front door click shut and he was gone.

Sighing, you wandered to the kitchen to find another note like you’d seen last time stuck to the fridge.

As you glanced at the calendar on the wall, you realized it was almost exactly a month since the last time he did this ― you remembered because he left on the 23rd and it was currently the 22nd. You could practically feel the dots forming but you had absolutely no way of connecting them.

Deciding to retire to bed, you attempted to sleep but found yourself thinking of Shinsou.

Two months in a row he vanished around the same time, in the middle of the night leaving only a note. Now that you thought about it, he didn’t seem to have a job ― he only said his disappearance was part of his job. But he came back with a hickey.

Sighing, you rolled over and attempted to fall asleep.

Two days later, he came home.

“I’m back,” he grumbled.

Immediately, you noted the aggravated tone to his voice. Sitting up from where you were sprawled out on the couch, you eyed him. Instead of just dropping his duffle bag like he had last time, he took it straight to the laundry room.

As he disappeared into the kitchen, you got up and followed him. He was squatting on the floor, rummaging through the bag as he tossed out pieces of clothing. You leaned on the door jam with your arms folded on your chest. Whether or not he knew you were there, you didn’t know.

“There’s some dinner left for you,” you said softly, watching him pause and look over his shoulder at you.

“I already ate,” he replied, voice cold.

You frowned, standing up straight, “Alright, well…” you sighed, “I’ll wrap it up and put it in the fridge in case you get hungry tonight.”

He didn’t reply but you kept watching him. He moved to fully sit on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him with a grunt. You noticed that he was separating the clothes into two piles. Closer inspection brought your attention to the price tags attached to the clothes in one pile.

You found yourself wondering where he got those clothes from but you decided not to ask. He seemed to be in a rather sour mood.

He left the new clothes on the floor and dumped the others into the washing machine. With quick efficiency, he started the cycle and stuffed the remaining clothes back into his bag.

You backed up to allow him to leave the laundry room. His shoulders were stiff and his posture was tense. It was a complete 180 from how you usually saw him.

“You um...you alright?” you finally asked when he sat down on the couch.

He barely spared you a glance before propping his feet up on the coffee table, turning the TV on. Realizing you weren’t getting a response, you attempted to brush off the brief anger that flashed through you and instead went to the kitchen to clean everything up.

You didn’t know why he was being so rude to you ― it’s not like you did anything to him. Deciding to just head to your bedroom to study, you shut off the kitchen light and skirted behind the couch to avoid getting in his way of the TV.

He didn’t say a word as you disappeared down the hallway.

As opposed to last time, his ‘work’ seemed to have not gone too well this time around. At least the last time, he was just tired and feeling lazy.

You could still hear the TV going when you put all your stuff away and crawled into bed.

The next morning, you awoke with a sigh. Sitting up, you stretched until you felt your joints pop.

As you wandered out of your bedroom, you heard the shower going, indicating Shinsou was still around. Not that you were expecting any different.

You fixed a quick, simple breakfast for you and Shinsou, hearing the shower turn off as you finished. Wiping your washed hands on your pants, you made your way to the bathroom.

You only got to knock on the door once before it was yanked open. Suddenly, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

He stood there, his usual fluffy hair flattened and hanging haphazardly around his face. He wore his usual bored expression despite the fact he was standing there, dripping wet with only a towel around his waist. Immediately, you got a whiff of his body wash and shampoo, making you swallow thickly.

Fuck, he smelled really good. You always thought so, when he sat on the couch beside you, you could always smell that delicious, musky scent of his body wash mixed with the spice of his cologne. But freshly washed with it, you were nearly salivating at the smell.

“Um…” you swallowed thickly, tearing your gaze away from the well built muscles under those baggy clothes he always wore, “B-Breakfast is ready…”

“Okay,” he mumbled, moving to skirt around you.

You sighed, assuming he was still in a shit mood again. Running a hand through your hair, you shook the delectable sight of him fresh out of the shower from your mind. As you went to go back to the kitchen, a large hand grappled around your wrist.

“Hey,” he mumbled. You looked over your shoulder to see him nervously rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you’d seen numerous times before, “I’m sorry...about yesterday.”

“Huh?” you raised a brow, trying to ignore how big his hand was around your wrist.

“I was in a shit mood and I took it out on you,” he explained, “So I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you relaxed slightly and smiled, realizing he was actually in a decent mood today, “It’s okay.”

He gave you his own relieved smile, making your heart lurch in your chest at the sight. It was rare to see any other expression beyond that tired, bored look he always wore. Finally releasing his hold on your wrist, he spoke again, “Let me get dressed and I’ll come eat.”

“Alright,” you nodded, biting your lip as he turned his back to you. As he walked you could see the way the muscles flexed under the skin.

When he finally vanished through his bedroom door, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Shaking your head you moved back to the kitchen intending to stuff your face to forget about how hot Hitoshi Shinsou really was.

Before, you thought he was good looking. Usually dark circles were unbecoming but they looked almost at home on his face. His skin was nearly flawless and looked soft to the touch ― you’d seen the skincare products housed in his cabinet. It was expensive shit too. Seriously, what was the guy's job?

That thought had your mind wandering back to the monthly disappearances.

The chair scraped against the floor as he came back ― wearing a baggy t-shirt and black sweats. He immediately dug in and began to eat.

“So...I have to ask,” he paused, brows coming together in a scowl as you uttered those words.

“Don’t ask,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“I just wanted to ask...if this is a monthly thing. I’ve only been here for 2 so...I just wanted to make sure,” you clarified, watching his shoulder relax. He seemed extremely defensive over any questions related to his ‘job’, you noted.

“Yeah. Once at the end of the month I leave for two days to work,” he answered simply, obviously avoiding giving any more information that you could feed off of.

He was smart at least.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon and the two of you were sitting on the couch watching TV. He had some documentary on but truthfully you weren’t paying a whole lot of attention to it.

For some reason, your mind kept bringing you back to the sight that morning of Shinsou. As you looked at him sitting beside you, arm tossed casually over the back of the couch as he slouched with his legs spread, you found yourself admiring him.

He had a sharp jaw and pretty lips. A look lower, your eyes landed on his hands ― long, pretty fingers with prominent veins beneath the pale skin.

Suddenly, his sharp gaze cut from the TV to you and you found yourself locked in a gaze with him for a split second before you broke away to look at the TV once more. In your peripheral, you swear you saw a smirk crossing his face.

But he didn’t comment and for that, you were thankful.

You bid him goodnight and as usual, he stayed up. You began to wonder if the man even tried to sleep anymore.

You stepped into the bathroom, warning your roommate that you were taking a shower. He shouted back a simple ‘okay’ before you shut the door.

You stepped under the stream of water after stripping, the steam of the hot water filling the bathroom and relaxing your muscles. You tipped your head back to wet your hair, humming to yourself.

You eyed Shinsou’s body wash sitting in the purple caddy handing on a hook on the wall. It brought you back to how nice he smelled when he was close to you. When you could feel his body warmth radiating off of him. You would look at him, his shoulders broad and his body warm and inviting. It was nearly impossible to resist the urge to cuddle yourself into his chest.

You wondered what it would be like to lay against him, his arms wrapped around you as he softly stroked your skin. Maybe he would press a soft kiss to your forehead ― the idea alone made you melt.

Realizing you had lost yourself in thought, you hurried to finish your shower and get to bed.

You fell asleep with Shinsou on your mind that night.

Shinsou’s third monthly work time finally rolled around once again. This time, you stayed up late so Shinsou had no choice but the interact before he left. You were hoping to maybe get more hints about what it is he did.

He shut his bedroom door, hoisting his duffle bag over his shoulder with a grunt. You were surprised to see him in actual clothes ― rather nice ones as well.

His jeans fit him perfectly and the button down shirt he wore was tucked in, showing off his lean figure. The belt buckle on his jeans indicated it was name brand and you found yourself wondering how much his job even paid.

“I’ll be home same as usual,” he mumbled, bending down to slide his shoes on at the door. He looked so good doing just a simple task and you found your heart racing in your chest. His shoulders were accented so well by his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up halfway on his forearms and there was an expensive looking watch on one of his wrists.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he opened the door ― suddenly finding that you didn’t want him to leave.

“Um…” you called, making him pause in the open door, looking over his shoulder with a brow raised in question, “You...uh…” you struggled to find something to say but he waited patiently for you to form your next words, “Have a nice time...come home soon.”

Your heart thudded painfully as you watched his gaze soften, a smile forming on his lips as he nodded, “I’ll see you later, ______.”

Your ears were ringing as he shut the door, the sound of your name coming from his lips echoing in your head. You sunk down onto the couch, hand on your chest as you came to a startling realization.

You had a crush on your roommate.

Living with Shinsou after coming to terms that you had a crush on him was...difficult to say the least. Simple things he did that you used to pay no mind to, you now found yourself getting jittery at the sight.

Like the way he rubbed his eyes with a fist when he woke up from a nap on the couch, a sound you could only describe as a whine coming from his throat as he sat up.

The day your kitchen sink stopped working and he had to fix it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. He was leaning beneath the sink, in the cabinet on his back as he fiddled with some tools on the pipes. His white t-shirt became see-through as he sweat from the hard work, his biceps flexing with every movement he made. His shirt rode up a bit over his stomach, exposing his abs that moved and rippled with every movement. His sweats were riding low on his hips, exposing that delicious v-line and happy trail that vanished beneath the band.

The worst part was the way you could see everything in those gray sweatpants he wore. You were pretty sure he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

You had to leave the room and hide in your bedroom with the window open until he finally finished fixing it.

You definitely didn’t let your hand slide down your panties to the mental image of him that night.

Despite living together for nearly four months, you knew close to nothing personal about Shinsou. Putting aside his weird, shady two-day job once a month, you didn’t have anything else to go off of on who he was.

He was a quiet guy who liked documentaries, video games, and had insomnia. He really loved to eat breakfast foods and cats. Although you hadn’t been in his room even once, only had a couple peeks inside, you knew he owned some cat-themed stationary at the very least.

Despite his cold appearance, he was actually quite kindhearted and gentle but seemed to have no desire to show it unless necessary. One time, you cut your finger while cooking and you swear you’d never seen him run faster to get a bandaid from the bathroom ― one with a cat on it, no less.

You still remember the feeling of his hand holding yours and how close his face was as he inspected the cut. You could have leaned in and kissed him so easily then.

And god was that tempting.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the glass you were holding in your hand slipped free until it shattered in a million pieces across the linoleum floor. You gasped, startled as you looked around for a way to escape but a single step in an area you thought was clear brought a cry from your lips as you stepped on the tiny shards.

You heard a loud thump from the living room where he had been playing a video game before the thundering footsteps raced into the kitchen. Shinsou’s eyes were wide, like he was terrified of what he would find.

“Don’t move,” he snapped, noting the way you leaned against the counter to take your injured foot off of the ground. He opened the storage cabinet and pulled out the broom and dust pan.

It took only a few minutes for him to clean it up enough to get to you safely on his own bare feet. Instead of you limping your way to the living room however, you found yourself swept off your feet.

Your heart raced so hard, you could hear it pounding in your ears. You were cradled against his chest, so warm and firm with his strong arms beneath your knees and shoulders. His heavenly scent surrounded you ― more intense than you’d even smelt it before. As you finally got a close look, you took notice of how his long lashes framed his pretty eyes.

All too soon, you were placed on the couch and he was disappearing down the hall with quick efficiency. You were still stunned from being in his arms that you barely noticed he had returned until he was on his knees in front of you.

Immediately, your cheeks bloomed hot with a blush. The image of him on his knees like that immediately sent your mind to a wicked place.

Luckily your dirty mind was stopped in its tracks when he began pulling glass from your foot.

You gasped in pain, attempting to pull away on reflex but he held strong, sharp gaze burning holes into you.

“Sit still,” he growled, sending a shiver down your spine.

His voice was so low, so commanding that you found yourself immediately doing what he said. You always were weak to a dominant man.

Soon enough, your foot was cleaned and he deemed that the bleeding had stopped.

“It’ll probably hurt like hell for a little while when you walk on it,” he warned, packing the first aid away.

“Thanks Hitoshi,” you smiled, earning a soft nod of acknowledgement from the man.

The memory of being in his arms, even for that brief moment, was imprinted in your mind. As you laid in bed, you thought about it. It made your stomach flutter in excitement as you fell asleep.

The fourth monthly job for Shinsou came and unfortunately, you missed him leaving. You had stayed up studying and as a result fell asleep earlier than usual. When you woke up he was already gone and you were left with a painful throb in your heart.

You missed him.

As you lazed on the couch, you found your mind wandering to him again. Like always. It was like your mind was cursed.

You wondered if he thought about you at all. The idea made you feel giddy and you had to bite back a smile. You felt like a silly schoolgirl with your crush ― the way he made your stomach flutter, your heart race, and your cheeks burn was getting ridiculous. It wasn’t like you could confess, he hadn’t given much of a hint that he even thought of you as a friend. Plus, you weren’t sure if you were willing to give up the killer apartment and perfect roommate gig you currently had with a foolish confession.

You heaved a sigh, sitting up with a new idea in mind.

A way that you could learn more about him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the...most noble means.

Standing outside his bedroom door, you bit your lip. It felt wrong to go into his room without permission. It wasn’t like he went into your room ― as far as you knew, who knows what he did while you were at school or working.

The metal doorknob was cold in your palm as you turned it and pushed it open with a soft click.

You’d seen his room in quick glances before when he opened it but you’d never gotten to fully inspect it. He had a large bed that took up the most space in his room. Situated on a dresser at the end of the bed was a TV, a Playstation set up beside it. Against the opposite wall was a desk with a gaming computer setup and a red and black gaming chair pushed in neatly.

There were a few articles of clothing littering the floor around his laundry basket and his closet was partly open to reveal his primarily monochromatic wardrobe choices.

Walking into the bedroom, you immediately got a whiff of his cologne, making you smile at the addictive scent. You took a seat on the edge of his bed, the black comforter incredibly soft beneath your hands.

You leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer, finding nothing too interesting ― a picture of him standing with a smiling boy with crazy green hair, a pink-skinned girl, and a beaming red-haired guy.

You hadn’t really given it much thought ― that he had friends. He didn’t really talk about anyone, in fact you never heard him mention anyone in his life besides his mom a few times. You did note that he texted on his phone quite a lot and sometimes you could hear him laughing and cursing from his bedroom as he played a video game. You wondered what his friends' names were, what they were like ― what it was like to be friends with Shinsou.

What you wouldn’t give to be someone...important in his life.

Sighing, you closed the drawer and moved to his dresser. Your own thoughts caused your heart to ache and you tried to brush it off by looking through the drawers for something interesting.

Fortunately, you got what you wished for.

The last drawer to the right contained a little black metal box buried beneath some clothes. You pulled it out and took a seat on the floor, pressing the button to open it. It popped open and you gaped at what you saw.

It was filled with money. More money than you’d probably ever seen in your whole life. The bills were wrapped together with rubber bands ― there had to be thousands of dollars in even a single stack. As you pulled out the bundles, you found that there were things located beneath them.

Jewels; all types. Diamond rings, necklaces, bracelets, ruby and emerald gems decorating them. You pulled out a ring and held it up, watching as he gleamed under the light.

You tucked everything back inside the box and hid it back the way you found it, shutting the drawer before standing up.

You had no idea what to think as you shut his door once again, moving to your own room. How could he have all that money hidden away like that? It was certainly shady.

Perhaps it was counterfeit? Or maybe he stole it!

And what about those jewels? Did he steal those too? Why were they hidden instead of sold off somewhere?

You had so many questions and absolutely no answers.

Suddenly you were regretting going snooping in his room.

The fifth month of living with him would have to be where things started to go downhill.

He came home from his weekend away, tired and grumpy, just wanting a relaxing shower. However, you hadn’t realized he was home so in your tired, sleep-filled daze you stumbled to the bathroom with the urgent need to pee.

You pushed the bathroom door open and halted in your tracks, heart stopping in your chest at the sight of shirtless Shinsou.

He had his back to you, displaying the angry red scratch marks that raked down the pale skin of his back, making them stand out even more. He realized you were there and spun around, eyes narrowed in a glare. With his chest in view, you could see all the hickeys and bites that trailed down his body, disappearing in the hem of his jeans that he had yet to shed.

“Get the hell out,” he snapped, ripping the door from your hand before slamming in shut in your face.

You stared at the wood for several, long seconds, stunned. You heard the shower start and snapped out of your daze. Forgetting your once desperate need to pee, you trudged back to your bedroom and quietly shut the door.

You weren’t a fool ― you knew exactly what those marks meant. You crawled under the covers and found yourself wondering what kind of woman got Hitoshi Shinsou’s attention enough to get him into bed.

And what did she have that you didn’t?

Truth be told, you couldn’t even imagine him as the type to sleep around. He wasn’t exactly sociable and he rarely seemed to go out of his way to interact even with his friends.

You could hear the shower turn off and you were suddenly reminded of the way he slammed the door in your face ― the ache from realizing he’d been with someone else only exacerbated by the knife of his shouting at you.

You closed your eyes and attempted to sleep, ignoring the sting behind your eyes.

The next morning, you found yourself not wanting to get out of bed. You could hear Shinsou shuffling around the house, doing god knows what. You heard him walk down the hallway, heart freezing as he stopped in front of your bedroom door.

You closed your eyes, willing him to go away.

Luck was not on your side, however, as he knocked thrice on your door. It was loud enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to feign sleeping through it.

You sighed and crawled out of bed and trudged over to the door, pulling it open just a bit to get a look at him.

He had his head down, hand clasped around the nape of his neck with his other hand shoved in his pocket. He looked up when he heard the door open, brows drawn together as he gazed at you partially hiding behind the door.

“I uh…” he cleared his throat, “I went out and picked us up some breakfast.”

“Oh…” you shifted on your feet awkwardly, nodding your head, “Thanks...I’ll eat later.”

You were about to close the door, desperate to escape the burning in your eyes as you remembered last night. Before it could close, however, he shoved his hand in the crack. You paused, not wanting to crush his hand in the door. You let him push it open to show more of you ― clad in shorts and an oversized t-shirt that you loved to sleep in. Thankfully the shirt was big enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra.

“I have to apologize,” he grunted, meeting your gaze, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that last night. I was just ticked off…” he trailed off.

You bit your lip, “I uh...I didn’t know you were home...so that’s why I just...walked in…”

He shook his head, “No I understand, really. Y-You just surprised me and I reacted. I really need to stop taking my shit out on you, I’ll work on that, really. I shouldn’t have slammed the door like that either. It was a shit night but it wasn’t your fault you didn’t know I came home.”

“I-It’s alright, Hitoshi, really,” you smiled, though it faltered a bit at the memory of those scratches and hickeys.

“I...hope you’re not hiding away in here because I upset you,” he muttered, making you frown once more.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

He bit his lip, looking away awkwardly, “you’re usually up around 10 and it’s...getting close to noon. You don’t do that normally so...I can only think you were trying to avoid me and that’s the last thing I want. This is your home too and I never want you to feel like you can’t be comfortable here.”

You gaped at him, processing what he was telling you. First, he paid close enough attention to you that he knew what time you got up ― that thought made happiness bloom in your chest and second, that was probably the most you’d heard him say in one sitting.

“It’s okay now, Hitoshi,” you smiled, “let me get dressed and I’ll be out to eat, okay?”

He smiled, making your cheeks burn at the sight as he nodded, turning away from you to move back to the living room. You closed your door and sighed.

It was crazy how just a simple smile from him had your heart fluttering. However, it was quickly halted by the memory that he had someone ― maybe it was a girlfriend. That made your chest ache and you bit your lip to halt those negative feelings as you stripped and changed out of your pajamas.

You had no idea how you were going to get past the painful clench in your chest every time you looked at him now.

Month six rolled around and nothing very interesting happened. Shinsou moved his playstation into the living room so the two of you could play some games together. It was a fun bonding experience and you got to watch the way his eyes would light up whenever he beat you. The sound of his laugh still rang in your ears and you couldn’t help but smile every time you thought back to that pretty smile of his.

It became a weekly thing for the two of you, every Friday night you would sit down on the couch together and play into the early hours of the morning. You got to know more about Shinsou than you had ever before.

Sometimes he would jerk his body and brush against yours, sending goosebumps across your skin. He was always so warm and inviting ― just having him near you sent your poor heart into palpitations.

You almost forgot about what happened the previous month when he came back ― those hickeys and scratches on his back finally having been cast out of your mind.

Your heart did ache when you bid him goodbye the night he left again, wondering if he was going to see her or not.

The seventh month was when that already precariously balanced life came crumbling down all at once.

Shinsou was in the shower as you played on his Playstation, sitting in front of the TV with a frown on your face. You could hear the shower running and in the back of your mind you pictured what he might look like ― water running down his flawless skin, his hands caressing. You felt an almost pitiful clench in your core at the mental image.

Your perversions were cut short by the sharp ring of the doorbell. You paused your game and groaned as you stood up, your knees popping from being sat in the same position for too long. Unlocking the door, you pulled it open and paused.

A woman stood on the other side of the door, a well-fitting black dress and fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. Her ears, neck, and wrists were adorned with sparkling jewelry and you could see the red bottoms of her expensive heels. She wore vibrant red lipstick across pretty, smiling lips as she acknowledged you. However, you could see the cold gleam in her eyes that made the smile all too fake.

“Can I help you?” you asked, leaning against the door jam.

She hummed, tucking some hair behind her ear with perfectly manicured nails, “Is Toshi here?”

“Toshi?” you raised a brow at the nickname, “He’s in the shower. What do you need?”

“Just to talk,” she replied, stepping forward like she wanted to come in. When you didn’t budge she raised a brow, “You don’t mind if I come in, right? I’m sure Toshi would love to see me.”

“Uh…” you didn’t get a chance to reply as she brushed past you, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as she made her way towards the living room, “Sure...come on in…” you whispered sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you shut the door.

You could hear the shower was turned off, indicating Shinsou would be returning in a minute. You looked at the woman as she glanced around the apartment, feeling a sting of jealousy burning within you.

Was she the girl he was dating?

“So...how do you know Hitoshi?” you asked, making her smile.

“I’m his girlfriend, of course!” she beamed, voice far too peppy for your liking.

The words sent an arrow through your heart and you looked away with a hum, ignoring the need to flee to your room and cry into the pillow like a stupid middle schooler.

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Shinsou strolled down the hall, towling his hair as he moved.

Any other time you would have drooled over the sight of a shirtless Shinsou, gym shorts hanging loose on his hips as he walked.

“Uh...Hitoshi…” you mumbled, getting his attention.

He looked up from beneath his towel, meeting your gaze before his eyes moved to the woman beside you. Immediately his eyes went wide and he stood up straight.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, startling you with how aggressive those words came out.

The girl didn’t seem too affected, merely pouting as she spoke, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You have no business being here,” he growled, jerking his head to the door, “Get out.”

“No!” she argued, walking right up to him, “I deserve answers before you throw me away like trash, Hitoshi!”

“I don’t owe you anything,” he replied coldly, breezing past both you and her to go to the kitchen. She followed him but you remained in the kitchen, listening as they argued.

“Why won’t you see me anymore?!” she cried, petulantly stomping her heeled foot.

“Because you got too damn attached,” he spat, opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water before walking into the living room again.

“Attached?!” she gasped, grabbing his arm to force him to look at her, “I have given you so much. How can you just break it off without a real reason! Come on, Toshi, just...be with me, you won’t have to work anymore.”

He tensed, glancing over at you at the mention of her job, jaw set, “Just get out, Kana.”

She looked over at you, a sly smile forming on her lips, “She doesn’t know what you do, does she? Is that why you’re avoiding this?”

He didn’t reply, simply glared at her. Kana scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “After all I spent on you, you have no right to just run away. You know I can treat you better than anyone else can, Hitoshi. You’re making a mistake.”

“I have plenty of other clients lined up, Kana,” he shot back, making her frown. He chuckled at the sign of weakness she showed, “What? Did you think you were the only one? No, sweetheart, I have plenty of girls waiting to spend even just one night with me. You’re not special. You’re certainly not the highest paying one either. There’s nothing of importance tying me to you. You have nothing special to offer. You got too attached, starting having feelings for me...you know it would never work with my job. So just leave before you get your feelings hurt.”

Both of you were stunned silent. You because you had never heard him speak so coldly and harshly to someone before ― even when he was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on you. Her because the words he spat out with such venom wrecked her pride and made her burn with anger.

She clenched her fists and snapped her head towards you, “Best not to get close to this prick,” she warned, her voice watery with unshed tears, “A man who makes money being a sugar baby isn’t one you want to get attached too.”

With those last words, she stormed out. The slam of the door made both you and Shinsou flinch. The silence that followed was even more deafening, however.

Shinsou cursed under his breath, running a hand through his half-dry hair.

“So...she wasn’t your girlfriend?” you asked, making him look over at you.

He was quiet for a second before chuckling under his breath, “You learn what my job is and that's the first thing you wonder?”

“Well!” you defended yourself quickly, “She introduced herself as your girlfriend!”

He shook his head, moving around the couch to take a seat, “No, she was just...a client I spent time with for a while. She started catching feelings so I cut it off and referred her to a friend of mine. Apparently...she didn’t like that.”

“How’d she know you lived here?” you asked, sitting beside him.

He shrugged, “She could have looked through my shit at some point, I suppose.”

You hummed, not wanting to push him to reveal more than he wanted to. After all, it wasn’t even his choice to expose his line of work anyway.

Well, at least you had answers on why he had all those expensive clothes, cash, and jewelry. It was good to know he wasn’t some type of shady thief in the end.

“It’s...just a really bad idea to get involved with clients,” he explained suddenly, “It’s not a relationship that’s built up on anything real. Having to pay for the company of someone is not a good foundation,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair again before looking at you, “I hope you...don’t think differently of me because of my job.”

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head, “It’s not really my place to judge you, you know?”

“Thanks,” he smiled, “It’s not really something that’s as bad as people think. It gets a bad rep for having sex for money and shit but...truthfully majority of my job is just...being company to rich women. Sometimes they want to take me around to some fancy parties to show me off or go on dates because they’re lonely. Sex isn’t the majority of what I do. I mean...I will but...it’s not the most common occurrence.”

Once again, the vision of those hickeys and sex-scratches crossed your mind and you found yourself wondering what kind of woman gave him those. At least you could be assured he wasn’t going out to see his girlfriend when he went to work ― they were strictly clients.

Which meant...he was probably single.

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the hopeful idea.

“How about I order some take out?” you asked, standing up to retrieve your phone.

“Get some pizza,” he called as you disappeared down the hall.

After his occupation was revealed to you, things began to look up. He became more open and carefree around you ― as he no longer had a big secret to hide. He didn’t really talk about his work but he wasn’t hiding it from you either.

You decided not to ask too many questions, knowing you’d only burn up in jealousy at the idea. You knew you didn’t really have a right to be jealous since you weren’t his girlfriend or anything but you couldn’t help it either.

The peaceful feeling didn’t last long, however. Once the fire started burning, it had no other choice but to rage.

“You should really just tell him, _____!” your friend, Uraraka whined, head against the table.

“It’s seriously painful,” Momo agreed, “All this pining is making me sick.”

“Oh real nice,” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee.

It felt nice to hang around with your friends for once ― it wasn’t something you frequently got the opportunity to do.

Just as Uraraka was about to open her mouth and reply, a looming shadow dropped over the table. You all looked over to find the familiar blonde hair and wide grin.

“Kaminari,” you greeted with a smile.

“Hey _____,” he waved before tucking his hands in his pockets, “Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while but...would you like to go out with me sometime?”

The question left you stunned.

You weren’t super close to Denki Kaminari, you shared a few general studies classes. He was a goofy, excitable guy who always seemed to know how to light up a room. Everyone around him was always in a good mood, in general he was just a very positive person.

Not just that but he wasn’t too bad to look at either; with his pretty, wide eyes and sharp jawline. The black lightning bolt streak through his hair just made him look even more charming.

But you hesitated, your mind drifting to Shinsou.

Sighing, you bit your lip, “Can I get back to you on that?”

He smiled, nodding his head, obviously relieved you didn’t tell him a flat out no, “No problem. I’ll see you later!”

Once he was gone, a sharp smack landed on your back making you cry out.

“Why didn’t you give him an answer?!” Momo cried.

“Denki’s a great guy, _____! You should do it!” Uraraka added.

You shrugged, “It’s just…”

“If you’re holding out hoping something will miraculously happen with stupid Shinsou, it’s a stupid idea,” Momo said, making you pout that she had read you so easily.

“Just tell him how you feel, _____,” Uraraka sighed, “If he rejects you, you can accept Denki’s date!”

You sighed but didn’t reply. Your two friends shared a look before changing the topic, drawing the attention away from your hopeless crush on your roommate.

When you got home, you were filled with a sense of urgency. Shinsou wasn’t in the living room so you went to his bedroom, knocking a few times on the door before he opened it.

“Hey,” he greeted, a tired smile on his face, “Welcome home.”

“Hitoshi,” you swallowed thickly, steeling yourself.

He frowned, “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed.

“Okay,” he stepped aside, waving you into his room.

You hesitated for a second, realizing that there would be no turning back once you walked inside. The door shutting behind you echoed in your head. He moved past you to take a seat on his computer chair. The screen was lit up behind him, indicating he had probably been playing something before you interrupted.

“I’m all ears,” he said softly, relaxing back in his seat.

“I…” you shifted on your feet, biting your lip, “I got asked out on a date.”

He raised his brow, cocking his head to the side. Part of you had hoped you would see some hint of jealousy from him at your words but his face remained as steely as ever.

“And...you want advice or something?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “I want to know if…” you took in a deep breath, “If you like me before I accept him.”

He was silent for what felt like an eternity, just staring at you. Shinsou was always the type of man to think before he spoke, running through all possibilities before opening his mouth. His throat moved as he swallowed, a soft sigh coming from his nose.

“You...have a crush on me, or something?” he asked, making you deflate slightly.

“Yes,” you admitted, “And...if you don’t like me back then I’ll accept this boy’s date. There’s no reason for me to wait around and hope you’ll like me back when I could be out meeting someone new.”

He nodded his head, quieting once more. You watched as he stood up, taking a few steps towards you, “_____…” you heart clenched at his tone, knowing what was coming, “My job...it doesn’t leave me room for personal relationships.”

Despite how much you prepared yourself for it, hearing him reject you hurt. You nodded, forcing yourself not to cry as you backed up towards the door.

“Alright then,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile, turning your back to him, “I guess I’ll accept Kaminari’s date then.”

As you walked out his door, you didn’t see the pained look in his eyes. Your name lingered on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t dare speak out. The click of his door was deafening in his ears and when you were gone he sighed, hanging his head as he sat on the edge of his bed, feeling like an idiot.

The next day, you hunted down Kaminari, telling him you’d love to go out on a date with him. He was thrilled, going off excitedly about how he couldn’t believe you actually accepted him and that he would make it the best date ever.

And truth be told, the date was a blast. You had told him you’d never been to laser tag before and immediately he said that was exactly what you do then. The sound of Denki’s laughter still echoed in your ears as he lost to you, accusing you of cheating in a lighthearted tone.

You didn’t see much of Shinsou after you started seeing Kaminari. Although it was casual, you spent a good bit of time hanging out with him ― he began eating with you, Uraraka, and Momo on campus and the two of you texted often.

It seemed that Shinsou wasn’t making a big effort to hang out with you anyway. As much as that hurt, you knew it was for the best. It spared you a lot of hurt and him of the awkwardness of living with a girl who had a crush on him.

It was fair enough, you mused.

But when you laid in bed at night, your phone on silent and the faint sound of Shinsou’s voice floating through the walls as he gamed with his friends, you felt the now familiar tug on your heart. You longed to be with him.

But you knew it was pointless now.

You’d been seeing Kaminari for a month when he showed up on your doorstep to pick you up. Usually you would leave and meet him but due to the rain, he opted to pick you up and save you both from the hassle.

You were in your room, putting the final touches on your makeup when the doorbell rang. Before you could react, you heard Shinsou open the door.

You quickly grabbed your purse, tossing the strap over your shoulder as you opened your door. You could hear their voices carrying down the hallway.

“Holy shit!” Kaminari laughed, “What a small world ― it’s been a while Hitoshi!”

“Denki,” Shinsou greeted curtly.

“You ______’s roommate?” Kaminari asked, tucking his hands in his pockets as he waited for you, “She’s talked about you a bit. Didn’t know it was you, though, man!”

“Denki―” Shinsou was about to say something more but was cut off by your entrance.

“Hey there babydoll!” Kaminari greeted with a grin, holding his hand out for you to take, “See you later, Hitoshi!”

Shinsou didn’t respond as he watched the two of you leave, his jaw set tight as he held himself back from calling out.

You felt like you’d never been more angry in your life as you stormed home. Things had been going so well between you and Kaminari, you felt like you could genuinely start to like him. You enjoyed his company and began to think less and less about one purple haired roommate of yours.

You slammed the front door, startling poor Shinsou on the couch. He turned around, eyes wide at the blazing anger visible on your face.

“What the hell is your problem, Shinsou?!” you cried, kicking your shoes off and tossing your backpack to the floor.

“Huh?” he raised a brow dumbly, only fanning the flames of your rage.

“You…” you heaved, fists clenched, “Who do you think you are?! Telling Denki to break it off with me?!”

Realization quickly flashed over his face and he groaned, standing up, “I didn’t tell him to break up with you!” he argued. You opened your mouth to retort but he put his hand up to stop you, “I just told him to think it over. Do you know how we know each other, ____?”

“No,” you shook your head, tossing your hands up, “What does it matter? You still have no right to interfere in my relationship!”

“He’s in the same line of work I am!” he snapped, rounding the couch, “He does the same exact thing I do.”

You paused, letting the information sink in, “Why does that matter?”

He shook his head, “Do you really want to be with a guy who spends his nights in bed with women, _____? That’s not exactly the easiest job to trust a man with.”

You didn’t have a retort, “I thought...the majority of the job was just being a companion.”

Shinsou sighed, taking a seat once more, “It really depends on the guy. Denki is pretty popular because he loves to get his dick wet.”

You thought those words would make you feel jealous. The idea of the guy you were seeing fucking other women should make you feel something but instead...you felt almost relieved. Still, it didn’t simmer the anger you felt towards Shinsou at putting his nose in your business.

“You should have come to me and told me your concerns, Shinsou,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, “Instead of going behind my back for me to be dumped.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, biting his lip, “I just...wanted to see if Denki was still the same as he was when I last knew him. It’s just how it happened. I am sorry.”

Sensing his apology was sincere, you relaxed and nodded, “I’ve got to study.”

With that, you hid away in your room.

You couldn’t deny you still felt a bit ticked off with him but at least you were able to move past it. You realized you weren’t truly attached to Kaminari, you were just using him to shove your feelings for Shinsou away ― a pretty dick move on your part. So you were relieved to be out of the relationship.

Unfortunately, this left you with Shinsou once more. Where he once was pushed from your mind for the most part, he now resumed plaguing your thoughts.

You couldn’t deny how tired you were.

It was emotionally exhausting feeling your heart race at the mere sight of him only for it to ache when you remembered there was no chance in hell he’d even give you the time of day.

Things reached a head when he returned from work. Eleven months in and all the negative feelings and tension finally culminated.

“Hey Shinsou,” you called, finding him leaning against the kitchen island with a cereal bar in his hands.

He looked over his shoulder, an unusually cold look in his eyes as he regarded you, “What?”

You tried not to flinch at the tone, frowning, “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he snapped and you sighed, realizing he was in one of his moods, “What do you want?”

“I...nevermind,” you shrugged, “We’ll talk when you’re in a better mood.”

You hadn’t meant for it to be something to piss him off further. You truly meant that you would wait until he felt better to talk. For some reason, however, he took it wrong.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled, pushing himself off of the counter to storm up to you.

“Nothing!” you defended, “I don’t want to get into anything with you, okay?”

“If you have something to say then just say it!” he snapped, making you shake your head.

“No!” you argued, turning on your heel to storm into your bedroom.

Before you could get very far, however, a tight hand was wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back.

“Don’t fucking run from me!” his tone sent shivers down your spine, the angry fire burning in his eyes finally snapping something inside you.

“I am so fucking tired of this!” you tore your arm from his grip, not missing the frustrated grunt he gave in response, “This shit isn’t working anymore, Shinsou! You clearly don’t know what the hell to do with yourself; you come home from working and you’re in a shit mood and you take it out on me. Then you act like everything is perfectly fine. You know how I feel about you, so you can’t even pretend that doesn’t have anything to do with your behavior. In fact, I know it affects you because why else would you have convinced the only guy I’ve seen in the past like two years to dump me like trash! All over this stupid fucking job of yours. I don’t want to deal with the shitty way you make me feel, Shinsou!”

“So?” he snapped, teeth bared.

“So I’m gonna fucking move out!” you threatened, standing nose to nose with him.

His eyes narrowed and he let out a humourless laugh, “Fine! The sooner the better!”

With those last words he stormed past you, slamming his bedroom door with deafening finality.

You were left alone in the living room, fists clenched as tears you’d held back so long finally broke free.

A stupid purple haired idiot was not worth being hurt so much over. That you were sure of.

It’s not like he even cared, apparently.

With that thought finally pushing you into action, you returned to your own room to begin looking for new housing.

In all your time living with him, the longest you went without seeing him was two days. Once a month when he went to work ― that was the only length of time you didn’t see him every day.

Now, however, the two of you were avoiding each other like the plague. You had been busting your ass finding a new apartment, going to school, and working as usual. Shinsou had been hiding in his room the majority of the time.

You even stopped cooking.

Part of you wondered if he even noticed. Deep down, however, you knew he probably didn’t care.

He would just get a new roommate and go on like usual. Like you had never existed.

At least you’d be able to get over him then.

It took a month before you found a decent place. It was nowhere near as nice as your current one but there was nothing you could do about that. Your situation with Shinsou was unique and you knew you were never gonna have an opportunity like this again.

You came to terms with that.

Wandering out of your room, you were surprised to find him sitting on the couch. His nose was buried in his phone but the TV played his usual shows.

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your voice even. He grunted in response, not looking up, “I found a place. I’ll be out by the end of the week.”

He didn’t say anything and you sighed, feeling your eyes burn.

How you wished he would say something to stop you ― to show you that the past year wasn’t a huge waste of time and that you really meant nothing to him. You felt you could have at least called yourselves friends but...apparently that was one sided.

The thought hurt so you escaped to your room once again to hide.

The night before your move, you were laying in bed playing a game on your phone. Laying on your back, you held the screen up and tapped your thumbs aggressive against the screen. Your momentum was lost by three sharp knocks on your door. You cried out as your phone fell from your hand and dropped on your face.

“Shit,” you groaned, tossing it away and getting up from bed.

Opening the door, your words caught in your throat at the sight of Hitoshi Shinsou’s sleepy gaze fixated on you. His hand was clasped around the nape of his neck and he was looking away nervously.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” his head snapped towards you, eyes wide before you realized how that sounded, “I-I mean I thought you were supposed to be gone! You know...to work.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he shrugged, “I cancelled. I...wanted...no, I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”

You stood there for a few seconds, thinking it over before stepping aside to let him in. He gave you a tight lipped smile before you shut the door behind him. Turning to face him, you took note of the way his free hand was shoved into his sweats pocket. The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

“What...what did you need?” you asked, sitting on the edge of your bed.

He remained standing, obviously thinking over his words carefully. His back was to you, his figure hunched slightly in his usual posture. But you couldn’t miss the tension his form held.

“I never intended this to become a long-term thing,” for a moment you thought he was talking about your living arrangement but before you could refute, he was turning to you, “This sugar baby thing, that is. I had a friend who did it and made some good money from it and eventually I got into the scene and realized just how good it could pay. It’s been like 2 or 3 years now since I’ve been at it.”

He dropped his hand from around his neck, beginning to pace around your room to gaze at your various knick-knacks. He paused at the few boxes you had packed up already, a frown marring his face.

“I make even more money by selling the presents I get. Sometimes the clients will give me jewelry or clothes, I always sell them,” he sighed, picking up a snow globe that sat atop your dresser, shaking it mindlessly to watch the fake snow float around the glass.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked softly.

“The truth is, I hate the majority of my job,” he confessed, ignoring your question, “Most of the people are pretentious assholes who think they’re better than me because they pay me. I don’t mind being arm candy, it doesn’t really bother me. And not gonna lie sometimes the sex is bomb,” he chuckled almost lifelessly and you ignored the pang in your chest at his words, “But the position I’m in forces me to basically do whatever they want me to. Naturally, I have limits and shit but if they want to dominate me I let them and that sucks.”

“Hitoshi,” you grumbled, making him look at you, “Why are you telling me about your sexual preferences?”

“Oh right…” he shook his head, “I hate doing it because I don’t have much control in my life because of it,” he looked at you with fierce eyes, “That’s why...I want to say fuck it.”

Before you could respond, he was walking up to you, cupping your cheek in a warm hand. Your eyes were wide, staring up at him as he moved close to you, his lips brushing yours.

“It’s been so fucking painful letting you go,” he whispered, “Having to reject you and let you go out with fucking Denki nearly broke me down, not gonna lie. I didn’t want him to hurt you, that’s why I interfered...but I also...didn’t want to let him have you when I wanted you so damn bad myself.”

Your heartbeat stuttered as you stared up at him, wide eyed, “D-Does that mean you…”

He nodded, “Shit, I’ve liked you for so long, _____. It’s been so hard not telling you how I feel every single day.”

“Hitoshi,” you likced your lips, reaching up to fist the front of his shirt. He hummed before you spoke again, “Please kiss me.”

There was a quick flash of his smile before his lips met yours ― every bit as soft as you expected them to be. You could faintly taste toothpaste on his lips but you didn’t mind one bit, he probably tasted the same from you.

His hand moved from your cheek to your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own hands moved around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

You quickly found yourself on your back, his hand wandering up the hem of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach. You whimpered, fisting his hair as you kept him locked in a kiss. He didn’t seem to mind, simply sighing against your lips.

You still had questions but you couldn’t bear the thought of stopping this so you tucked them into the back of your mind, devoting yourself to what was right in front of you.

Shinsou sat up just slightly, breaking the kiss. You almost whined but the feeling of his hand creeping upwards towards your bare breast stopped you.

“Is this okay?” he asked for your consent, pausing before he actually touched you.

“Very,” you breathed, tugging him back down for another kiss.

Immediately, he cupped your breast, thumbing your already erected nipple. You gasped into his mouth, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Sensitive?” he asked, pecking your lips before suddenly sitting back.

This time you did whine at the loss. He flashed you a fond smile before pushing the hem of your shirt up to your neck, revealing your chest to his greedy eyes.

“D-Don’t just stare,” you complained, feeling your cheeks burn as he admired your body.

“Sorry,” he replied insincerely, cupping your breast once more, “You have such pretty tits, you know? I couldn’t help it.”

You scoffed but it turned into a choked gasp as he enveloped your pert bud in his hot mouth, wet tongue lashing against it before he pulled away with a firm suck. You wrapped your hands in those soft, purple tresses and whined. His other hand came up to pinch your other nipple, making sure to give it just as much attention.

“Toshi…” you whined, tugging his hair until he pulled away, his lips swollen.

“What is it, baby?” he hummed, nosing at your neck to press soft kisses there.

“T-Take your shirt off,” you breathed, tugging at the hem until you were able to pull it over his head with a bit of assistance.

Once he was as shirtless as you, your hands began to wander to touch every bit of skin you had long to for so long. He let you explore, letting out a soft sigh when you brushed over one of his hardened nipples. You didn’t linger in one place for long, quickly growing too curious at the sight of his member straining against those damn sweatpants he always wore.

His head tipped back as you palmed him through the fabric, quickly noticing that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Eagerly, you dipped your fingers beneath the hem and pulled his cock free, your fingers not even able to touch once wrapped around.

He was thick, a curve to his length that you just knew would hit a certain spot inside of you that would make you lose your mind. The head was a flushed red color, leaking precum that you used to give him a couple easy strokes.

He reached down, grabbing your wrist to stop you before slipping his own hand down the hem of your shorts and panties.

Your hips bucked the second his fingers made contact with your folds ― already dripping wet and coating his digits generously. He gave a few soft circles to your clit, testing your sensitivity before finding the pressure that had you cunt clenching around nothing.

You whined, grinding your hips against his touch in hopes he’d slip at least one of those long fingers into you. Thankfully, you were granted your wish and more as he easily slid his middle and ring fingers in.

He groaned as you walls tightly clenched around him, trying to desperately pull him back in whenever he pulled them out slightly.

“Feel good?” he breathed, already knowing the answer but craving your praise.

“So good,” you whimpered, biting your lip. He curled his fingers suddenly, nailing that sweet, spongy spot on your upper wall, “Right there!” you gasped.

He grinned, massaging that one pleasure-point with vigor, “Yeah? Right there, kitten?”

You keened at the name, walls clenching. He groaned at the feeling, suddenly pulling his hand free from your shorts. You didn’t have time to complain before he was tugging the remaining articles down your legs to toss away.

He moved with practice expertise, grabbing you beneath the thighs to pin them open. Your wet cunt was exposed to his all too greedy eyes. He licked his lips at the sight, making your cheeks burn.

Before you knew it, he was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, tugging you down just a bit so your ass was almost hanging off the edge. The position left you completely at his mercy. He knew it too.

You watched with bated breath as he spread your folds open ― revealing the shiny, pink hole that continuously dripped your arousal. It clenched beneath his leering gaze and he groaned.

“Fuck!” you squealed when he dove forward to wrap his lips around your hardened clit.

He hummed at your taste, sending vibrations through the little bud. He quickly abandoned that in favor of getting a full taste of your juices. Tonguing your entrance, he reveled in how tight you were around his tongue.

You reached down, tanging your fingers in his hair as he ate you with all he had. His tongue worked expertly to circle your clit before dipping back down to your hole once again.

“Please, put your fingers in,” you begged, desperate to be filled.

He quickly obliged, slipping two long digits into your clenched pussy before mouthing over your clit eagerly. He could already feel you clenching sporadically around him and he couldn’t resist setting a quick pace, hammering against your sweet spot with every movement.

Your muscles were taught as you felt that glorious high building up. Soft pleas left your lips as your back arched.

“Gonna cum, kitten?” he tasted, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Y-Yeah!” you sobbed, abandoning your hold on his hair to tear at your blankets ― not wanting to hurt him in your throes of pleasure.

“Cum then,” the casual way he said those words flicked a switch and you were cumming.

He groaned through your high, feeling your cunt spasm around him. He felt your cum gush from around his digits, soaking them as you clit throbbed beneath the pad of his tongue. Once your body began to relax, he pulled away.

Your thighs slammed shut once he was out of the way, your muscles trembling through the intense aftershocks. While you were coming down, he stripped himself of his sweats, popping his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth with a groan as he fisted his cock to the sight of you trembling.

The fact he made you cum so hard was a boost to his ego and he didn’t bother fighting the prideful grin on his face. Sweat coated your skin and made your hair stick to your neck.

After several seconds, he climbed onto the bed and maneuvered you so your head was in the pillows. You bit your lip and grinned slyly at him as he climbed onto the bed.

“Shit uh…” he looked around your room quickly, a frown on his lips. You looked up at him curiously before he explained, “Condom?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, “D-Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh?” he gaped down at you.

You shrugged, “I’m on the pill and well...I’m sure you use condoms with you...job, right?”

“Always,” he blinked.

“Then…” you wiggled your hips at him with a cheeky grin.

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Reaching between the two of you, he gripped his cock and tapped the head of it against your folds. Your thighs jumped as he slapped lightly against your sensitive clit.

Finally, he began to press into you and your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch his cock gave you. He clenched his teeth, letting you soft groans as he sunk more of his length into you. Your walls gripped him so tightly, spasming and clenching as he was fully seated within you.

The two of you had to pause before continuing, the feeling of him filling you up too much. His cock was thick, making you feel like he was stuffing you full.

“Please,” you begged, fisting the pillows on either side of your head as he sat back on his heels.

Gazing between your thighs, he nearly lost it at the sight of your cunt stretched tight to accommodate him. He thumbed over your clit, receiving a sharp cry from your lips.

“Fuck...you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, circling his hips against yours with a groan, “I can feel you clenching so tight around me. Bet you wanna cum again, huh?”

“Yes!” you cried quickly, mouth agape as he gave a sudden thrust, “Please make me cum!”

He shushed you, rubbing his thumbs over your hips, “Don’t worry, kitten, I got you...I’ll get you there.”

Before you could respond, he was setting an almost brutal pace. You always imagined what Shinsou would be like in bed ― you pictured it too many times at night. Sometimes you imagined he would take it slow with deep, intense thrusts. Other times you’d picture exactly this; rough, harsh thrusts that you were sure were going to leave you sore when the morning came.

You had no complaints though.

Hitoshi gripped you beneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest as he fucked you. Your cunt gushed around him, making lewd, wet noises reverberate around the room and mingle with your mixed moans. He let out groans of pleasure, strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead.

You couldn’t help but admire the sight of him ― muscles rippling and moving with the force of his thrusts. Reaching up, you pulled him closer against you, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades.

He winced but you felt his cock twitch at the pinch of pain inflicted as a result. You thought back to what you saw that one night ― the marks some random woman left on his body. Suddenly, you were overcome with the need to mark him as yours.

Catching him by surprise, you managed to flip him over, straddling his waist, using his strong chest as leverage to fuck yourself on his thick cock. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, almost hitting your cervix every time you sunk down on him. He gripped your hips, assisting your movements as he tossed his head back into the pillows.

“Shit, that’s it, kitten,” he praised, reaching up to pinch one of your nipples.

You keened at the praise, leaning down to deliver a sharp bite against his shoulder, sucking at the skin until a bright red mark bloomed. You eyed it proudly, biting your lip as you ground against his cock, making sure your clit got the attention it needed.

Shinsou bucked into you, making you whine as he started a steady pace of bouncing. Your thighs burned but it was worth the sight of having him beneath you. The way he stared up at you, as if you were a goddess made your heart race.

“Toshi…” you whined, leaning back to steady yourself on his thighs as he started to thrust up into you.

“What is it, babygirl?” he grunted, gripping your hips tightly as he fucked his thick cock into your gushing cunt.

“Make me cum, please!” you begged, biting your lip.

He grinned, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick the pad of it, “I got you, baby.”

Before you could think of a response, he was circling his thumb around your clit, the bud desperate for attention. Your body tensed with just a few quick circles of his thumb, his cock angled against your g-spot so perfectly that you immediately reached your high.

Through your own cries of pleasure, you heard him moaning alongside you before he froze, his cock buried deep inside you as he came. His cock throbbed and pulsed with every jet of hot cum he released into your clenching walls.

All at once, things stilled. You both relaxed against each other. His cock was still stuffed inside you, softening as his cum leaked out around him to make a mess between the two of you. You laid your head against his chest, his large hand cupping the back of it, pressing soft kisses against your forehead until your heartbeats finally slowed to a reasonable pace.

“Let’s take a bath, baby,” he groaned as he sat up, keeping you secure in his lap.

You were surprised he could carry you so easily after he nearly fucked the very life out of you.

Soon enough, you found yourself surrounded by sweet-smelling water with a fucked-out Shinsou cuddling against your back.

“Not to...ruin this afterglow bliss,” you hummed, leaning back against him as the warm water ripped around you, “But what brought this confession on suddenly? I thought you said your job doesn’t allow room for relationships.”

He was quiet for several, long seconds before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, “I didn’t think it was fair to let myself be with you when I was going out once a month to hang around with a bunch of women. It isn’t something I want to put you through.”

“So you’re going to quit?” you asked.

He nodded, “I probably won’t be able to make enough money to keep this place but...if it means I can have you without feeling like shit about hurting you, then yeah. It’ll be worth it, I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you just…” you bit your lip, pausing.

“What?” you questioned, gripping your chin to make you look at him, “Talk to me.”

You hummed, “Just stop with the sex and kissing stuff...just be arm candy, like you said. Hang out with them. They’ll still pay for that, right?”

He raised a brow, shifting so he could look better at your face, “You’d be okay with me going to hang out with a bunch of women who want nothing more than to sit on my dick?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat, your cheeks burning, “As long as only I get to sit on your dick then it’ll be fine. I trust you, Hitoshi.”

He was quiet once again before a smile fell across his lips, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips, “We’ll talk more about it later. Let’s just relax.”

He tucked you against his chest, leaning back against the porcelain of the tub. With his fingers caressing across your skin, you allowed yourself to drift off ― finally wrapped up in those damn arms you dreamed of.

#bnha x reader #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnha smut #shinsou smut #afton.writes

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