#I also ordered his seasons greetings

[nereidprinc3ss]

early seasons spencer and bau reader undercover at a club and it’s just like. he is so flustered but also weirdly confident and do with this what you will

in which spencer reid and BAU fem!reader have to pose as a couple at a club. she's more than a little flirty. the conversation actually gets quite suggestive. he's cute when he gets flustered.

warnings/tags: discussions of sex, reader wears a tight dress and makeup and heels, discussions of blushing but r's skin color is not implied to be light, i just needed a reason to talk about sex flush LOL, if u don't visibly blush this will still read fine

a/n: I LOVE EARLY SEASONS SPENCER X FLIRTY READER OH MY GODDD thank you for this request angel from heaven I hope you all like this as much as I do teehee

The bass buzzes through the floor and vibrates your teeth. House music has never really been your thing. Neither have tight dresses and high heels while on the job—but you’re willing to objectify yourself just a little if it will lure yet another loser who likes to chop up young couples into the awaiting arms of the American correctional system. 

Or to the wrong end of Emily's Glock. Whatever comes first.  

You scan the club—it’s not your usual scene, and you can only imagine how Dr. Reid is faring. As far as you can tell this is essentially his nightmare. It’s sensory overload central even for you. 

Your eyes catch on him at the bar, tucked away from the writhing crowd. He’s standing near the end, one arm resting on the surface while the other hand is jammed in his pocket. He seems completely unaware of the several women circling closer and closer. The whole earnest and dorky but still handsome thing seems to work well for him. Or, it would, if he had any interest in utilizing it. He’s dressed a little sharper than usual—no doubt styled by Morgan and Prentiss. Hell, the earnest dorkiness and the well fitted dark suit is working for you if nobody else. 

Sometimes he just looks… edible. 

And self-discipline doesn't always come naturally to you. 

“Doctor,” you purr in greeting, grazing the forearm propped up on the bar with white-tipped nails as you insert yourself in front of him. His fingers twitch under your light touch. 

Spencer doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sink down your frame, sticking to every highlighted curve like you’re dripping honey. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize that you can see that’s what he’s doing. 

“Hi. You look nice.”

“Aw,” you smile, dulling the salacious edge to your voice, “you didn’t have to say that. Someone’s improvising.”

“I meant it. That dress looks nice on you,” he says, simply, and you hate his specific brand of charm because it’s not intentional. It’s not something he puts on. It comes out of nowhere and always knocks you on your ass when it hits—even in the smallest doses. His eyes narrow and he leans closer. You can feel the energy rippling around him like a force field as he examines you. “You’re wearing more makeup than you normally do.”

“Do you like it? Penelope ordered the wrong shade of blush and gave it to me. Supposedly it’s meant to make me look like I just had an orgasm. I don’t know if I believe it.”

Much to your disappointment, Spencer leans back, scanning the crowd for your target and speaking as if he’s only half-interested. 

“That’s not what you would look like. Sex flush deepens the color of your entire face and chest, not just your cheeks.”

Your brows knit as you contend with unwelcome butterflies. 

“Buy me a drink before you start telling me what I’ll look like after I orgasm.”

That catches his attention, and his suddenly wide eyes snap to you. If he had a drink, he’d be choking on it. 

“I wasn’t—it was a general you, I’d never—that would be inappropriate. It was. It was inappropriate. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You lean with your back to the bar, elbows propped on black granite, and swing your hair over your shoulder. Spencer’s eyes dart back down to your décolletage and then up to the ceiling like he regrets being born. You smile wickedly. Much better. This is the way God intended for you to interact with Spencer Reid. 

“I’ll consider forgiving you. And I don’t blush. Not when I orgasm, not ever.”

Admittedly, you just want to milk the whole talking about you orgasming thing to see how pink you can make him. It’s not often you’re gifted with an opportunity to be so candid about your sexuality or flirt this unabashedly. But you are supposed to be posing as a couple. Maybe you’re just feeling extra in character. 

Instead of stumbling over his words some more, Spencer smiles with a degree of bemusement like he’s caught you in a white lie. 

His smile is so nice. His teeth are perfect, and his lips—

“Yes you do.”

Always so convinced he’s right, this one. 

It’s annoying. And kind of hot. 

“Uh, I promise you I do not.”

“Everyone blushes. It's a sympathetic nervous system activation response wherein blood rushes to your face. Your blood vessels dilate when you get flustered or anxious. Your face gets hot and your undertone changes.”

You raise your brows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was challenging you. 

“Yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Actually, no,” he mutters, losing any bravado and casting his eyes downward subserviently. “You have a habit of proving me wrong.”

“That’s right,” you gloat, smiling wide. Someone bumps into you, and you turn around, highly unprofessional insult locked and loaded—but it’s just a drunk girl who apologizes and stumbles off. The encounter does, however, remind you that you’re supposed to be finding a killer. “Do you think this is the best positioning? He might not be able to find us way over here.”

“You think we should move?”

You look back at him and nod, holding your hand out. He looks at it uncertainly. You waggle your fingers and infuse your words with sugar. 

“Oh, come on. I don’t want to lose you. And we’re supposed to look like a couple, remember?”

Gingerly he accepts your hand. His is bigger than you’d have thought. Not nearly as freezing as your own perpetually are. It occurs to you as you grab his hand that his bone structure really is bigger than yours. He’s… tall. He is, at the end of the day, a real life adult man. His presence is palpable behind you and you enjoy the weight of his hand in yours as you tug him through the crowd, perhaps not taking the most direct route through the throng just so you can savor being able to touch him like this for a little longer. 

Miraculously you spot an empty booth and slide into it. It’s a deep alcove, shadowy and secluded at the back. That’s where you settle, against black vinyl, and where you wave at Spencer to join you. 

He lingers at the edge of the table, glancing around at the groups of dancing and drinking young adults. 

“I don’t know. Can you even see the dance floor from back there?”

“Part of it. But I’m sure he’ll be looking in the booths for couples. He’ll come to us.”

Spencer faces you again and sighs ruefully, a begrudging smirk playing at his lips as he slides into the booth and joins you against the back wall. His side is warm against yours. He smells nice. Clean. Almost herbal, like patchouli or vetiver. 

“What? You really hate sitting next to me that much?”

Spencer’s lips part wryly before he speaks, like he almost thought better of it but decided to anyway. 

“I think you just wanted a reason to get me alone and secluded so you can finally accost me.”

Your knees bump. You lean into it. 

“Accost you? That seems harsh,” you pout, leaning toward him clandestinely to undo his top button.

“I don’t see how. You are literally trying to take my clothing off as we speak.”

“I’m just increasing your sex appeal. It’ll be good, trust me. Maybe you’ll even end up taking one of those girls from the bar home. Or—back to the hotel, I should say.”

Spencer covers your fussy hands with his own sweetly, like he can sense the true jealousy simmering underneath the sarcasm, and places them in your lap. The touch lingers.

“Are you always like this?” He murmurs, voice lower than you can recall ever hearing it and twisted into the shape of a smile. 

“Only with you, Dr. Reid. Speaking of, how about you? Do you flirt with many other FBI agents on official business?”

“Just the one. She’s kind of a full-time job.”

“Shut up. I’m basically your babysitter. If anything, I should be paid extra for dealing with you.”

“Attempting to seduce your charge seems like a bad business model. There are definitely some ethical issues there.”

His hands still rest on yours. You lace your fingers with his and speak sweetly, meeting his eyes best you can in the dark. 

“I wasn’t aware I was seducing you. Do you feel seduced?”

He’s the first to look away after a few seconds pass—pulls your hands apart gently, politely arranging them back on your lap. 

“I think you’re incorrigible and a terrible influence. In all honesty, you terrify me and more often than not I walk away from our interactions a little confused.”

You clap a hand to your heart, the bare skin revealed by your low cut dress warm under your fingers. 

“Spencer… that kind of turned me on.”

He just looks at you for a moment, a hint of a smile on his pretty face, long enough to make you feel a bit nervous. 

Then he’s leaning forward, and unconsciously so are you, almost forgetting to breath when you’re practically pressed against him in this booth and he’s whispering so low and sweet into your ear. 

“He’s watching us. Right across the floor, next to the girl in the blue dress. White button up and a leather jacket.” His hand slides over yours, fingers skimming your collarbone in the process as he interlocks your grasp once more. “Keep your hand right here and lean closer. We need to maintain his interest.”

“I don’t think I can lean any closer,” you breathe, hoping it doesn’t register as nervous as it really is. You’re supposed to be the confident one who teases him. “But if you want me to sit on your lap, just ask. I won’t say no.”

He chuckles, too loud to be amorous. It’s clearly genuine. It sounds like the way his reddened cheeks always look. It almost does more for you than the bedroom voice.

“You… you are beyond help. I don’t think you could be appropriate if your life depended on it.”

Slowly you pull back so you can look into his eyes—much closer than you normally have an excuse to. They dart wildly over your face, partially obscured by the dark which cuts shadows deep into the dramatic hollows of his bone structure. He really is so pretty. 

You glance toward the man, who’s pretending not to watch you. When you focus your attention back on Spencer, sliding your hand up the curve of his jaw, you find yourself making a dangerous wish. You find yourself wishing that you didn’t have an audience. That this wasn’t all for show. That neither of you had earpieces in.

His pulse hammers under your little finger, and his lips part slightly as he doesn’t have the wherewithal to not glance at yours. He’s so unaware of how obvious he’s being. It’s cute. 

You run the tips of your fingers through the hair in front of his ear, the one sans bluetooth, pushing it back, before leaning in close once more to whisper. 

“Good thing we’re not going for appropriate. Actually—your hands could stand to wander a little more, Dr. Reid. Let me know if you need me to tell you where to put them.”

[mochie85]

Blue Christmas

One-Shots Masterlist | Complete Masterlist | Secret Santa Masterlist

Summary: You ask Loki to give you something special for Christmas. A/N: This is a Secret Santa gift for @divine-knight-hand. I wanted to give you everything you requested, my love, but I already wrote something similar a while ago. For the sake of not sounding repetitive, I altered your request just a little bit. I hope you still like it. However, please check out the other story because it checks off all your points! And is Christmas-themed! Mayari: If You Let Me. Also, sorry for the cringy title. I couldn't think of anything else. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 2.7k Warnings: Explicit. Smut. P in V. Jotunn Loki (yes, cuz he's a whole warning!)

You crossed your legs as the last rays of the sun were trickling down on your body. Your book was discarded on the ground as the condensation from your Pina Colada dripped down onto the side table.

Loki had surprised you and whisked you away to the Fiji Islands for Christmas— no more crowded New York streets. No more dirty ice falling onto you from the splash of an oncoming taxicab. And certainly, no more missions and assignments till the New Year.

It had been an exhaustive nineteen-hour flight. Especially since he didn’t tell you anything he was planning. When you came home to your room earlier that day, you were greeted by Loki with two suitcases on either side of him.

“Merry Yuletide, Darling,” he said as he rolled your luggage over to you and kissed you on your lips in greeting.

“Loki- what?”

“No time to explain, we need to leave now in order to catch our flight,” he said ushering you out the door by patting you on the bum. You jumped up with giddiness, planting a lipstick-stained kiss on his cheek. He was always surprising you with little trinkets and excursions.

“Thank you, sir,” you said in a deep voice.

“Ooh, you dangerous nymph. Go on. I need my wits about me till we get on the plane. I can’t have you distracting me.”

“Then, after?” you asked luring him to a sinful promise.

“After,” he promised in the same breathy tone.

That was two days ago. Loki had kept his promise, and then some- inducting you both into the mile-high club several times over.

Now, here you were in a private villa surrounded by an infinity pool that stretched towards the Pacific, watching your godly boyfriend come out of the water. He ran his hands through his hair, combing the droplets from his tresses. Beads fell down the defined lines of his muscles causing you to heat up in the already balmy weather.

The sight of Loki, wet and in nothing but short swim trunks, was enough to make you convulse. You were sure that if Michelangelo had a model for David, it would’ve been Loki. And knowing Loki, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was him.

He came up to you, lounging on your chair, and shook his wet hair in front of you to tease you. “St-stop!” you laughed as you playfully pushed him before you got completely wet.

“Awe, come on, Darling. I thought you liked me wet?” he charmed as he sat next to you and leaned in for a kiss.

“I have to admit, it is kind of refreshing.” You said as your hands guided themselves around his slick body. “It’s so hot here. I might need something to cool me down,” you tempted.

There was a flash of understanding in his face. Nights of hedonistic pleasure and anticipation of his moods taught you how to read him. If you weren’t so attuned to him- so zealously infatuated with him and his praise over you, you would have missed it. But you didn’t.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing. I just-” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words. “There was a reason why I chose Fiji.”

“You mean, the beautiful waters and sandy beaches weren’t enough of a reason?” you joked.

“It’s in the southern hemisphere. Which means that it’s summer here whilst still cold and winter back home.”

“Why would the season be an issue?”

“Contingency.”

“Contingency, for what?” you asked confused.

“It was about what you wanted for Christmas,” he answered slowly. Confusion still clouding your memory. Little bits and pieces of a long-forgotten conversation nipped at your mind as you tried to piece together what you had asked him to give you.

As if to remind you, Loki raised his hand and cupped your face. As he did so, his fingers turned a beautiful shade of blue. It was fair, yet sharp. It reminded you of the color of blue thistles on a cold afternoon.

As he touched your cheek, a shiver ran down your skin making you shudder for the first time since you arrived. Realization struck you as you remembered the conversation you two had a month ago.

“I think I know what I want for Christmas,” you lured him in. “And what is that, my Darling?” Loki said absentmindedly while looking through his mission briefing. “You." “You already have me,” he scoffed, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I meant…all of you…the other you…” you trailed silently. Loki looked at you bewildered. There were many nights he had dreamt of taking you in his other form, wondering how you would react to him. He’s postponed showing you this long because he was afraid of his feral nature. He would be at the mercy of his urges and base needs. Loki wasn’t quite sure how to ease you into that new situation. Would he be too much for you? Knowing your adventurous spirit, you wouldn’t mind having his beastly side take you. “Why, you little nymph. Now, why would you want to see that side of me, hmm?”

Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Loki, I-” you started, but he quickly put a finger to your lips to quiet you.

“I want this, Darling. And I want it with you. So, if at any point in time, you want to stop, you know our safe word.” You nodded your head enthusiastically and Loki chuckled. “But I should let you know, that…there was a reason why I’ve waited this long to show you. I become somewhat different when I change. Jotunns, in their very nature, are severe. Harsher. They have to be, to live in the climate they do, and survive.”

You sat there, fervently hanging onto every word Loki was saying. “We relied upon each other for strength, for warmth, basic needs…” Loki trailed off, tracing your lower lip with his cold finger.  “You can imagine the creativity we had in finding ways to keep our blood warm and stave off the frigid climate.” You nodded solemnly at his words as if they were gospel.

“If we do this, I need you to be in control. Do you understand me, Darling?” he asked, inching closer to you. You felt a shiver run down your body. You focused on his eyes as his lips weaved a spell for you to follow. “I won’t know how much is too much. How rough is too rough.”

Loki grabbed your hips and sat you on his lap. The sudden move made you yelp into his arms. “Sorry, my dear. You see, I’m already too excited. My body is reacting to you.” He ran his nose up and down your neck. His cold hands encircled your back, caging you on top of him. “I’ve wanted to take you like this for so long.” His hands entwined themselves with your hair and pulled as his lips met yours in a crushing kiss.

You held on tightly, with your legs wrapped around his waist, as Loki stood up and walked both of you to the edge of your bed. When he broke the kiss, you heard him moan before he continued to suck a bruise onto your neck.

You felt his body change. The hairs atop your skin began to stand as the temperature began to drop. The once-sweltering heat that prickled your skin was replaced by the cool tingles of his touch. It surrounded you and enveloped you in a cold caress. You finally understood the need for a warmer climate. With a slight force, he released you from him, falling onto the soft mattress below.

That was when you had your first glimpse of his true self. The beautiful shade of blue you had seen earlier spread throughout his body. His form was somehow sharper, more jagged. Yet still soft and giving. He had markings defined by fine lines and grooves. They traced over his muscles and sinew, highlighting the best parts of himself. You followed them with your eyes as it led your stare down to his protruding cock. Your jaw went slack as you noticed how hard he was for you already.

Loki watched you appraise him. Your wanton eyes grew darker, and your breathing got quicker. His senses picked up every reaction that your body was going through. He was prepared to confront your fear or disgust, but he couldn’t see that in your face. Instead, he saw hunger and need. He could smell your desire growing for him and it made him feral. He wrapped his hands around his shaft, stroking himself to the sight of you, ready and waiting on his bed.

Loki felt ravenous as he knelt over you on top of the sheets. He spread your legs apart, seating himself in between the warmth of your thighs. His heavy cock resting atop your wet cunt. His hands eagerly tore up your swimsuit as they explored and venerated your body. His lip’s sole mission was to mark bruises where his hands had trailed, following the chill of his touch.

“…Loki…”

“Shh, Darling. I won’t hurt you. Unless you want me to,” he winked as he nipped the underside of your breast. Too many emotions. Too many thoughts. They were swirling at the forefront of his mind wanting to be said. His desire for you was overwhelming him.

In this form, he felt more primal. His emotions were stronger and almost frightening, but all he felt was fire. Everywhere. An all-consuming heat that wouldn’t dissipate until he had claimed you. His need for you was never as aggressive as it was right now. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he could easily hurt you. He needed you to be in control.

“Don’t stop,” you begged him.

“And what would you have me do my Darling?” he breathed onto your skin. “Tell me, and I will comply.” Loki was giving you the green light. The authority to take over because he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle enough not to harm you.

Oh, but the fire. The fire inside him wouldn’t relent. “Shall I force my cock down your throat till you gag for me to stop?” he suggested with a grin. You bit your lip and moaned as the image took hold in your mind. You moved your hips involuntarily, rubbing against his hefty shaft.

“Maybe I’ll edge you for the rest of our stay. Keep you here tied to our bed, my little slave, until I’ve properly bred you.” Loki seized your lips and held you down on the bed. His cold hands capture your wrist in an icy grip.

“S’cold,” you gritted.

“You can take it. You don’t mind a little bit of frostbite. Don’t you, my love?” He ground his hips as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder, leaving teeth marks in their wake. You felt his hard cock rub against your sensitive nub. It elicited the most erotic noise from your lips. Loki fought to keep his composure. With every moan you made, it got harder and harder for him to control his urges.

“I thought this was supposed to be my Christmas present,” you sighed, regaining some form of authority and clarity. You intertwined your fingers with his and signaled him to turn over with your hip. You pushed his shoulders down onto the bed as you straddled his waist.

Loki looked up at you in all your glory. Your beautiful face shining down with love and adoration was enough to heal the worry and anxiety he was feeling. “I want to admire my present,” you pouted as your eyes took all of him in.

His mischievous smile broke through as he raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head. “As you wish,” he hissed as the corded muscles in his biceps swelled.

You traced his beautiful blue markings down from his arms to his pecs. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered absent-mindedly, getting lost in the exploration of his body. Loki blushed at your words. He had never heard that word describe his Jotunn form before and it ignited a warm glow inside of him. Different than the fire, but still heated.

You leaned over him as your study led you to his neck and handsome face. You traced his dark lips as he opened them. His bright ruby eyes concentrated on you. “I love my present,” you whispered before you gently kissed him. “Thank you.”

Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue invading yours, as he wrapped his arms around you once again. His cold touch left a trail of goosebumps as he squeezed and grabbed your ass. He raised you slightly with one hand. And with the other, he guided himself into your entrance. The slick of your arousal coating the tip of his hard cock. “Are you ready for me?” he grunted. You nodded your head, keeping your lips on his, not wanting to break contact.

He thrust deep into your body. His heels held on against the mattress of the bed. He held your hips stable as he continued to drive upwards slowly- savoring how snug you were around him.  Every pull of your tight pussy made him moan your name. “…yes…”  he whined.

You sat up, holding onto his shoulders for support. “I need you, Loki,” you pleaded. Your nails dug into his dark skin as your hips took over his strokes. “…deeper…faster…”

“Take me then, Darling. Use me.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to do this for you. To be good for you. With each push of your hips, he unraveled each time. Crowning to a tight knot in his abdomen.

You waited patiently for him to open his eyes and see the love and pride you had for him. When he did, you were met with an intense sparkle of carmine. Desire and vulnerability shone through, swirling in his gaze. His brows furrowed with pleasure as he bit his lip. “…oh, fuck…” he cried.

You moved faster. Your swollen clit rubbed against his dark curls adding to the already heightened pleasure you were building. You took his hands from your hips and guided them up your body. You placed them over your bouncing tits and he squeezed- rubbing your hardened nipple with his thumb.

“That’s my good little whore,” he gasped. “You like it rough don’t you?” You squeezed tighter around him in answer and Loki couldn’t stop the wolfish grin on his face.

He swallowed thickly watching you enjoy his touch. “Loki” you screamed. The only indication that you had reached your climax and was about to topple over. You trembled over his body screaming his name over and over as you came down from your bliss.

“Don’t stop, Darling.” He pushed harder into you. “Ride me,” he commanded. Loki watched as you clenched around his hard cock- disappearing into your wet folds. The sight was enough to make him tremble.

God, he was so much bigger in this form. You had to push hard to meet the hilt of his shaft. You raised your hips and dipped back down eliciting the deepest groan fleeing his lips. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Fuckin’ good girl.” His head tilted back and the desire to claim you came back. He had to take you faster. Harder.

He dug his heels back into the mattress and slammed his hips upwards. The gasping air leaving your lungs, the wicked moans filling his ears. All of it coerced him to cum inside you- finally releasing his pent-up yearning. Loki couldn’t stop the moans or praises leaving his lips. Your name peppered in with teasing curses and praises.  “You always know how to make me feel good, don’t you, pet?” he prized as he took a deep breath to steady his exhaustion.

“Mmm, yes sir.” You kissed him ardently, taking his breath away from his already spent lungs. You trailed your kisses down to his neck and onto his panting chest. Each kiss made your lips tingle and chilly.

“We should probably get ready for dinner. What say you, my love?”

“Hmm? Maybe in a while…I’m not done playing with my Christmas gift yet.” You responded as your lips traveled further down towards his already hardening cock.

Loki smiled as he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your warm tongue on his cool skin. “In a while,” he repeated. “Fuck…in a while.”

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish ++

[reyalvr]

RUMORS!

I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!

synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?

genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot

pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!

word count ┊ 2.2k

author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)

THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 

From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 

You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 

Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 

Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?

IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 

Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 

“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 

Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 

You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.

You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.

“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”

For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.

The nerve.

“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”

“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:

OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!

Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 

Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 

“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.

“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”

You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.

When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”

The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 

“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”

At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”

You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 

You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 

“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”

You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”

“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 

“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 

Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 

“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”

“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 

He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.

“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 

“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 

You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 

“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”

“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”

“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”

“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”

“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 

He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?

You always were.

[cutielando]

my little engineer | o.p.

synopsis: in which Oscar falls in love with a McLaren engineer

a/n: based on this request! the timeline does not really follow the actual season, i just went along with what came to my head

my masterlist

The air buzzed with the energy of the Formula 1 paddock.

Even on a quiet Thursday afternoon, there was a constant undercurrent of urgency, the kind that kept everyone on their toes.

You were no exception to the rule.

As a McLaren engineer, your days were filled with analyzing data, fine-tuning setups, and making sure that the cars were in peak condition. The team’s fortunes often hinged on decisions made in rooms like the ones you were currently in, surrounded by monitors and endless cups of coffee.

You had been with McLaren for 2 years now, your main focus being on aerodynamics. The team had offered to hire you while you were still studying your degree, mainly because of how brilliant your mind was.

Your job was to squeeze every ounce of performance out of the car, translating theoretical possibilities and what-ifs into tangible speed and a sea of accomplishments.

Currently, you were busy reviewing wind tunnel data when a shadow fell across your desk.

Looking up, you saw Oscar standing there, a curious expression in his face. He was dressed casually, but the unmistakable sharpness of a driver’s focus radiated off of him.

“Hey” he said, his soft Australian accent cutting through the silence.

“Hi, Oscar” you greeted him, giving him a small smile.

“Do you have a moment? I wanted to ask you about the changes to the front wing design we made today” he asked, his eyes darting across your desk.

He could see that you were busy, but he couldn’t help himself. Ever since he had joined the team, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was impressed by your knowledge and experience at just 21, basically his age, and he found himself blushing and stuttering every time he would talk to you.

He was acting like a love-sick puppy.

"Of course, take a seat" you said as you gestured to the chair next to you, straightening up in your chair.

Despite only being in his rookie year, Oscar's performance had been nothing short of remarkable. And you also couldn't deny that you took a small, secret liking to the young Aussie driver.

"Can you explain to me, again, what changes we made exactly?" Oscar asked, having sat down next to you.

"Yeah, we've made some adjustments to the endplates in order to better improve airflow around the tires. It should help with high-speed cornering stability" you explained, pointing to the data on one of the monitors.

Oscar leaned in, his eyebrows furrowed as he took in what you were saying and what he was seeing on the screens.

"How does that affect the balance? Will it make the rear feel lighter?" he asked, scratching his chin.

"Slightly, yes. But we've made sure to compensate with some tweaks to the diffuser. It will feel different, but once you adjust, you should find it predictable and reliable" you explained.

He nodded, his expression thoughtful.

"I see. I get it now, thanks Y/N" he said, giving you a small smile.

You smiled back, patting him on the shoulder.

"Anytime, Oscar. Let me know how the car feels after FP1 and we can make some more tweaks if it's necessary" you said.

Oscar nodded and gave you one last smile before heading out. You watched him go, noticing the quiet confidence with which he held himself, even as he walked.

There was something about him that intrigued you, a mix of his determination to become the best and his calm, almost reserved personality and demeanor.

Something you definitely wanted to explore.

But for now, you shook the thoughts away, getting back to work before you could spiral into something else.

Into something more dangerous.

♡♡♡♡♡

Over the next few weeks, your interactions with Oscar became more and more frequent.

Whether it was in the garage, during debriefs, or even in the cafeteria, he often sought you out to discuss details about the car.

At first, everything was purely professional. Mostly technical questions, feedback on changes to the setup, and maybe the occasional joke to lighten up the mood.

But gradually, the conversations began to shift.

“So, how did you end up in F1?” he asked one evening, leaning against the workbench as you adjusted a model component.

You froze for a second but quickly regained your composure, a little surprised at the personal question.

“Well, I’ve always loved racing. My dad used to take me to local karting events when I was little. I wasn’t much of a driver, though, but I was really curious about the whole mechanism behind the cars. I got into university and McLaren hired me while I was still studying” you explained.

Oscar’s eyes lit up with interest as you spoke.

“Wow, you must have one hell of a brain, then” he said, making you laugh and blush.

You shrugged, not wanting to gloat.

“I guess they saw something in me, I don’t really know. I’m just grateful I have this opportunity” you said, giving him a smile.

He smiled back, his eyes twinkling.

“It’s good that we have you here with us. We wouldn’t get far without you” he said, his voice softer now.

“It’s a team effort, really, but thank you” you said, your cheeks now an angry shade of red.

Oscar smiled and nodded, and his eyes lingered on you for a second too long. You looked away, your eyes now focused on the task at hand, trying to hide the sudden flutter in your stomach and in your chest.

Damn you, Oscar.

♡♡♡♡♡

As the season progressed, the dynamic between you and Oscar continued to deepen.

He’d stop by your workstation far more often than was necessary, most of the times just to have a chat with you.

You found yourself looking forward to his visits, your butterflies being swarmed with butterflies whenever you would see him approach you. And even though you tried to keep things strictly professional, there were small, fleeting moments than hinted at just something more.

Like the time he brought you coffee during a particularly tough and difficult race weekend, completely taking you by surprise.

“Here, thought you might need this” he said, setting down the cup of coffee in front of you.

Startled, you raise your eyebrows, but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks” you said, looking down at the cup to notice that he had not only brought you coffee, but he brought your favorite type of coffee. “How did you know I like it black?”

Oscar smiled and shrugged.

“I pay attention” was the only thing that he said before he turned and walked away, leaving you staring after him.

Another instance was when he had caught you off guard with a genuine compliment after a tougher free practice session.

“You’re really good at what you do, you know. The car feels incredible because of you” he said, trying to comfort you after the tough debrief.

You’d brushed it off as you always did, trying to pass everything as team effort.

But the sincerity and gentleness of his voice stayed with you long after that.

Maybe a little too long.

♡♡♡♡♡

Monza.

It was during a rain-soaked qualifying session that the tension between the two of you reached an all-time high.

The team had completely gambled on a whole-new setup, a very risky one at that, and the stakes were higher than they ever were in the championship battle.

You were sitting in the garage with your headphones on, monitoring the data as Oscar ventured out on the slippery track.

“How’s the car, Oscar?” Tom, his race engineer, asked him over the radio.

“A bit twitchy, but it’s manageable” his voice crackled over the radio.

You leaned forward over the computer, your heart in your throat as you watched his sector times closely.

Even though the setup was still rocky, he was pushing hard, managing to find the limits and extract the most out of his lap times with every lap.

When the session finished and he crossed the line securing a spot on the second row, the whole garage erupted into loud cheers.

Everyone was hugging everyone, congratulating you on the proposed setup (a gamble, really) and how well it had played out in the end.

Oscar returned a few minutes later, drenched but grinning widely.

His eyes found yours almost instantly, and you couldn’t help but give him a wide smile back.

“Nice work out there” you said as he stopped in front of you.

“Couldn’t have done it without you” he replied, his voice warm and soft.

For a moment, the noise of the garage faded away into the distance, and it was just the two of you there, standing in the middle of the chaos.

Just the two of you.

Later that night, the team had decided to go out and celebrate the amazing qualifying session.

You found yourself sitting at the quieter end of the table with Oscar. The conversation between the two of you flowed effortlessly, moving from racing all the way to hobbies and childhood stories.

You learned that he loved cooking, had an embarrassingly extensive collection of movie soundtracks and missed the Australian benches.

“What about you? What do you do when you’re not making our cars faster?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you.

You laughed, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not much, to be honest. Work keeps me pretty busy. But I like hiking when I get the chance. It’s nice to unplug and just be with the nature for a little while, away from all the chaos and noise” you said.

He nodded thoughtfully, seemingly hanging onto your every word.

“Sounds peaceful. I haven’t hiked in a long time. Maybe I should start again” he said.

“You should. It’s a great way to clear your head” you said, your lips twitching into a small smile.

The evening stretched on, the line between you and Oscar becoming more blurred with each passing moment.

By the time you left the restaurant, walking side by side under the streetlights of Italy, you felt warmth in your chest at the feeling of him being next to you.

A warmth that had nothing to do with the wine you’d had.

♡♡♡♡♡

The slow burn continued as the season went on.

There were stolen moments in the garage, quiet conversations during long flights and shared smiles that spoke volumes. But neither of you made the step, neither crossed the line.

Not yet, anyways.

But the unspoken tension hung heavily in the air, growing stronger and stronger with each passing day.

And it all came to a head in Abu Dhabi, the final race of the season.

After a very hard-fought battle Oscar had managed to finish on the podium, his best result of the season yet. The team celebrated late into the night, the culmination of months of effort and sacrifice finally paying off.

You found yourself on the balcony of the hotel, the cool desert breeze brushing against your skin.

Oscar joined you a few minutes later, a drink in his hand and a soft smile on his face.

“Couldn’t handle the noise anymore?” he asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

“Something like that. It’s been a long season, I’m exhausted” you said, chuckling.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“It has. But I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without you” he said.

You turned to him, your heart skipping a beat at the fire in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Oscar…”

“No, let me say this. You’ve been there for me through everything. You’ve pushed to be better weekend after weekend, supported me when things got tough and the car was shit. I don’t think I’d still be here if it weren’t for you” his voice was firm, like there was no room for you to contradict him.

“I was just doing my job” you said, your voice soft as your breath caught in your throat.

Oscar shook his head, determined to make you see exactly what he was feeling.

“It’s more than that. You mean more to me than just…this. I know we’ve got a million reasons why this wouldn’t work, but i can’t pretend I don’t feel this anymore” he said, his eyes boring into yours.

The vulnerability in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered, all combined shattered every doubt you’d had.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your hand brushing against his softly.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it for months, but I don’t want to do it anymore” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curved into a soft smile, and before you could overthink anything, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt as natural as breathing.

The world faded away, leaving only the two of you under the starry Abu Dhabi sky. Months of pining and unspoken tension culminated in a simple kiss, fireworks erupting into every part of your body.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a content sigh escaping his lips.

“So, where do we go from here?” you asked, your voice tinged with both excitement and uncertainty.

“One step at a time” he said, his fingers intertwining with yours. “As long as it’s with you, I’m happy”

And in that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you’d face them together.

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REQUEST HERE

[w1ll0wray]

hear me out, jinx X f!reader in a bridgerton like au.

where jinx is like the rebellious daughter/ward of a noble and she never really attends balls until she's forced to go in this one with her dad (preferably silco!) and in this ball she sees/meets reader who's so elegant, poised, and composed, like an absolute belladonna. jinx just falls for her and she ends up attending practically every ball that reader attends just to see her. but at some point, reader notices and confronts her about it.

pls :3

THE CHERRY ON TOP ft. bridgerton au jinx x fem!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ summary: to her dismay, the rebellious jinx is suddenly forced by her father, Silco, to attend the first Winter ball in order to show herself in society. though, when she catches a glimpse of you there, she can’t help but attend every ball hosted this season.

⊹₊⟡⋆warnings: dom!jinx x sub!femreader, bridgerton au, dukes daughter!jinx x marquis daughter!reader, rebellious daughter!jinx, carriage, cherry, fingering, reader!receiving, other characters mentioned, men or minors dni, smut, regency era.

wc. 2.9k

𐙚 note | I’d really appreciate it if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you:)

this was a request; I hope this reached your expectations!

“You will be attending the Winter ball with me tonight.” 

Jinx’s head snapped up from her breakfast, Her fork remains stuck in the chocolate-drizzled waffle, hand frozen in place as she pauses. 

“I will not.” She spouts out, shooting daggers at Silco’s face, his attention on the newspaper sprawled out in front of him. Jinx swallowed down her breakfast, sitting up from her seat at the dinner table, taking furious steps towards him. 

Banging a fist on the table, he doesn’t flinch at her attempt to spook him, rather amused, “You need to make an appearance again— you’re the duke’s daughter after all.” He hummed out the last part, sipping on his tea. She groans dramatically, rolling her eyes, “It’s not like you’d need me there.” 

“You’re of age. Who knows, you might meet some intriguing ladies.” He noticed the way she tensed up at the mention of girls, patting himself in the back for figuring out her secret. Jinx crossed her arms, hmphing, “Fine, but I’m not wearing a dress.” 

Silco shrugged, waving a hand in the air, 

“I’ll let you borrow from my closet.” Once Jinx left the dining room, he smiled at his victory, assured that his daughter wouldn’t be in a bar again. 

Jinx was irritated. 

The last time she attended a ball— she was so disinterested, to the point where they had to leave because she scared off the host’s son. Chuckling at the memory, Jinx’s joyful moment ended in a split second, the sound of violins bringing her back to reality.

To be exact, the ball was a bore. She stood next to the drink stands, the lemonade stinging her throat. She knew who would be at this ball—she was staring right at her. 

Her sister. 

Arms intertwined with her wife, Vi was greeting another couple, a toothy grin curved on her lips. Jinx huffed, frustrated by her sister’s presence. They grew distant after the wedding, Vi naturally occupied with her new life. Jinx envied the fact that she found her partner for life, the sight of them acting all lovey-dovey prompted her to look away. 

Regretfully, she’d been seen. 

“Powder!” Of course, only Vi would call her by that name. Jinx resisted the urge to scoff, whirling around to face her older sister. Engulfed in a warm hug, Jinx hesitantly wrapped her arms around her, resting her head on her shoulder, “Hey, sis.” 

Vi then explained how proud of her she was, Jinx’s appearance rare these days. After a couple of cheesy remarks from Vi, she left as soon as Caitlyn needed her help. Sighing, Jinx moved the glass she held around, inspecting the lemonade swirl around. Opting for sitting, she sat down at one of the empty tables, slouching into the seat and observing her surroundings. 

Blah, blah, blah. 

She scrunched her nose, weary of the social gathering already. 

Though, as her eyes roam around, her gaze lands on you. 

There you stood, in a soft blue gown with a high-waisted empire silhouette fitted just below the bust and flowing gracefully down with delicate puffed short sleeves. A sheer white shawl drapes around you arms, paired with gloves, hair styled in an updo. 

Jinx didn’t know why, but something about the way you stood out from the other ladies, posture excellent and the soft flutter of motion from your silk fan, got her intrigued. She didn’t dare come up to you though, resorting to only staring as you engaged with the other ladies, adding to your graceful demeanor. 

The night soon ended and Jinx left reminiscing about you. 

It wasn’t long until another ball was held. The moment Silco mentioned a ball, Jinx jumped up, “I’ll come with you!” Which left him completely bewildered. 

This ball, however, celebrated the new year outside, everyone dressed in darker colors. It wasn’t long until she caught you sitting with other ladies—Caitlyn and Vi being one of them. 

Jinx’s eyes nearly flew out of their sockets at the sight of those two beside you. As soon as Vi got up to grab some champagne, Jinx appeared, questioning her. 

“How do you know that girl?” She spat, voice low but anyone who passed by knew she was accusing her older sister of something. Vi frowned, brows knitting together, “Know who…?” 

Jinx nodded her head at you, dressed in a burgundy gown, giggling alongside Caitlyn. Her older sister sent her a suspicious glance, sipping on her champagne, “Why the sudden interest?” 

The blue-haired girl groaned, tugging Vi closer to lean into her ear, “I want to get to know her.” She demanded. Vi only chuckled, holding up her hands in defense, “She’s just one of Cait’s friends. I don’t know her well—“ 

“—Help me, then.” Jinx dug a finger on Vi’s chest, squinting her eyes, hopeful for a deal. Vi only defeatedly sighed, “Alright— I’ll try asking her about stuff. Meet me back here later.” She bumped her shoulders with Jinx, leaving her to sit back at the table. 

For the rest of the night, Jinx creepily watched from another table, one where Silco also sat at. The soft curve of your lips whenever you smiled at someone made her heart leap, irritated by Vi’s delayed answer. However, once the food was served, Vi got up to serve herself a drink. Jinx immediately sprang to her feet, ignoring Silco’s voice.

Jinx dangerously leaned against the table, raising an impatient brow, “So?”

Vi poured herself some champagne before facing her, “Cait said she was from a noble house— her father is desperately trying to find her someone to marry.”

Jinx frowned, glancing at you for a split second. Vi continued, “She has two older brothers so….good luck.”  She’s about to leave before Jinx forces her back, “I didn’t ask about her family history— I asked about her!” 

Vi scowled, rolling her eyes at her sister’s disturbance, “How about you go ask her yourself?” Her words caused Jinx to scoff. 

Jinx’s shoulders drooped, defeat evident on her face. Suddenly, a strong hand lands on her back, “I’m sure now is the perfect opportunity.” Vi forcefully tugs her along, ignoring Jinx’s complaints as they approach the table.

Once they arrived, the ladies looked up in confusion at the interruption, but curious expressions took over at the sight of Jinx. Cait was the first to wave, “You’ve finally decided to join us, Jinx.” She added, gesturing for her to sit. As she sat down, Jinx could feel your gaze on her. 

Peering up, Jinx nearly flinches, stunned that you were indeed staring at her. Though, to her surprise, you had softly smiled before facing the lady beside you. Jinx soon felt out of place, not socializing with anyone until one of the ladies had asked her a question.

“Jinx, what are your hobbies?” The lady was sat beside you, fluttering her fan. Jinx leaned back in her seat, hand holding a filled glass, “During my free time I like to practice my archery, hunting and— uhm— drawing skills.” She added the last bit after noticing the horrified gazes. The lady hummed, eyes wide, “…quite peculiar.” 

The blue-haired girl narrowed her gaze, frowning in disdain but kept her mouth shut. She then glanced at you, busy eating your ice scream topped with a cherry. You seemed content, watching the crowd. Thankfully, Jinx had a better view altogether, taking notes of the way the cherry left a red residue on your lips. Suddenly, your head snapped at her direction, but your eyes set on someone else. 

“Excuse me!” You called out, hand coming up. Everyone at the table glanced at the server approaching, holding a plate full of the ice cream glasses you had just eaten. Cait was the first to interrupt, “Don’t you think about it— you’ve had too much!” She shoved your hand down, waving at the server to leave. 

Speechless, Jinx watched as you showed another side of yourself, whining at Cait’s intrusion, “You know I’m not allowed at home— just let me have a bit more.” You tried to bargain, holding Caitlyn’s hands in yours. Though, Cait shook her head, pointing at the fruits in the middle of the table, “Have those instead.” 

You scrunched your nose, “I only like cherries.” Jinx let out a chuckle, prompting you to glance up at her, leaving her to feel overwhelmed and trying to avoid your gaze. 

That night ended with Jinx feeling unsatisfied with the lack of socialization she had done with you— all the other ladies somehow chatted with her except you. 

A few days later, Jinx had gone out for a stroll in towns square. It was a chilly morning, London weather unpredictable as usual. Silco had requested some errands to be done for him, so she accepted and headed first for the bakery. Usually, they’d send over a servant, but Jinx had felt so locked up in her chambers, that she leaped for the opportunity to get out. Smelling the delicious odor of bread, Jinx sighed in delight as she entered the bakery. 

Though, her whole body turns rigid at the sight of you and an older man chatting with the seller, your servants holding packages. Trying to swiftly avoid you, Jinx stood at the corner behind you, praying that you wouldn’t notice her. 

She shamelessly stared at your back, head bent down so that you wouldn’t spot her. You somehow shined compared to every other lady in the bakery, elegance radiating off of you. Jinx craved for a chance to speak to you— but every time she thought of it—  her heart beat quickens and she gets the urge to dig her own hole. To her dismay, once you turn around and start making your way out, you steal a quick glance at her for a split second before continuing. 

Jinx’s heard jumped out of her chest when your eyes met hers, feeling giddy all of a sudden. 

The next time she spots you is at the Spring ball. The moment you came into view, her whole body warmed up. You wore a soft pink gown, your hair down for once, a flower hair piece tucked in. There you sat, at another table, with your father—as did she. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off, your silhouette luring her into a deeper hole of desire. Her eyes trailed up to your lips around the cherry, sucking the ruby juices that escaped. Jinx had a feeling she wasn’t being slick with her intensive staring, but you just looked so beautiful and—

“—Who are you staring at?” Silco’s voice shook Jinx, forcing her gaze to break away from you. Jinx was quick to shoot back, “No one.” 

He sent her a skeptical glance, “Is it the Marquis’s daughter?” Silco detected Jinx’s silence, smiling at her shy behavior. 

“Perhaps you could go speak to her?” He suggested, encouraging her. Jinx only sighed defeatedly, “She’s so different compared to..me.” 

Silco only scoffed, sipping on some crimson wine, “Nonsense.” He then turned his head, “Marquis!” He called out, gesturing for the man to come over. Jinx panicked, whispering profanities when you followed after your father. Silco motioned for them to take a seat. 

Jinx didn’t acknowledge you, trying to seem unbothered. You, however, knew her little game.

You’d be labeled as a fool if you didn’t notice her piercing stares every ball. Eyeing the way her eyes trailed on the crowd, you scrunched your nose, trying to understand why she never spoke to you. 

On the first ball of the season, you felt her burning stare on you the whole event, as if stripping you of your garments. Even at the New year Ball, her eyes would bore into your side. You thought she hated you at first, but then you realized how different  she acted. Her fingers would fidget with her braid, or even the fabric of her pants. 

Silco spoke with your father, leaving you to sit across from Jinx. You tilt your head, inspecting her side profile. You’d be an idiot to not think she was attractive. Even after she had left in the last ball, your friends had whispered about her looks, describing her as dashing. 

You did your own search, digging through Lady Whistledown’s past newspaper for any information. The only thing you found was Jinx getting labeled as an ‘eye-catching woman who had a reputation of flirting openly’. You wondered if she changed since she didn’t seem like the type. 

“Jinx, would you like to dance?” 

Your sudden question stuns Jinx, forcing her to meet your eye. 

“I— Uhm.. Alright.” She muttered, taking a deep breath before holding out her palm for you to take. You glance at her manicured nails, smiling, “Thank you.” 

Jinx tried to seem composed, maneuvering you across the dance floor like it was her second nature. Your hand rested on her shoulder, the other intertwined with hers. Feeling her tense when you place her palm on ur back, you giggled, “.. never danced with a girl?” 

She murmured under her breath, “Not really.” like it was painful to admit. She avoided your eye during the waltz, but you didn’t appreciate that. 

“I know you’ve been watching me.” You whispered in her ear, innocently staring up at her as she forgot a step. She looked away, “I have no idea—“ 

“—Jinx, are you interested in me?” You instantly asked, flickering your gaze across her face. She didn’t answer, biting on her bottom lip. You huff out, “I asked you a question.” She twirled you around, your chest colliding roughly with hers, causing her to inhale deeply. 

You tightened your hold on her shoulder, head leaning in closer, your perfume surrounding Jinx’s senses,  “I would appreciate it if you could stop ignoring me and respond—“ 

In the midst of your words, her lips capture yours. Gasping, your eyes squeeze shut at the impact of her fingers tangled in your hair. She then pulls away, her lips parted, staggered with her actions. 

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” She rasped, shoving your shoulder with hers, speeding away from the dance floor. You immediately grab her arm, aware of the numerous stares around you—especially your fathers. She turned her head, pausing when she realized you were following. 

“Take me with you.” You whispered, desire glinting in your gaze. Stunned, Jinx glances at Silco, noticing his triumphant look. Peering back at you, she finally cracks a smile. 

She tugs your hand and guides you out of the ball, into the carriage parking. Jinx immediately shooed her drivers away. The blue-haired girl pulled you in the carriage and not wasting any time in pressing her lips against yours. Grabbing her face, you giggled as she motioned for you to lay down on the plush seat. 

Her attention then laid on the silver plate resting on the opposite sofa, cherries and other fruits there. Wickedly grinning, she leans back down, her tongue slipping past your lips to wrap her tongue around yours.  Whining, your knee nudged her leg, desperate for more. 

She clicks her tongue, “Patience.” She whispered, peppering your neck with wet kisses. Biting your lip to reduce any noises, you arched your back, “Just get on with it.” You whined, forcing her head down. She yanked your hand off, lifting her head, “I said patience.” 

Her fingers then slip beneath your gown, trailing up to your thigh. Your hips twitch in anticipation. At last, she moves your lingerie to the side, slender fingers rubbing your pussy. Whimpering, your head tilts back, soft noises escaping your lips. Jinx inspected the way your brows furrowed, lips parting as she entered one finger. 

Distracting you from the sudden discomfort, she leaves a couple of kisses on your collarbone. When you buck your hips, she takes it as a sign to slightly pull out and plunge her finger back in. You sigh, eyes shutting closed from the ecstasy. A grin spread on Jinx’s lips as your folds suck her finger in, encouraging her to add another finger. Rocking her finger into you, you twitch, legs spreading to give her space. Entering another finger, you gasp, wrapping your arms around her neck. 

Moaning into her ear, her grin multiplies at the accomplishment of having you turn putty in her arms. Jinx suddenly speeds up the pace, ramming her fingers into you, eliciting cries from your pretty lips. She would mutter soft praises in your ear at each hard thrust of her fingers, licking your earlobe, “..so good for me.” She pecks your cheek, humming at each plea you let out. 

Once you came apart on her fingers, she praised you immensely, “Perfect girl.” She pulls her fingers out, coated with your cum. Lifting her wet fingers up to her lips, her tongue pokes out to lick, amused by your entranced gaze. 

She separated her fingers, mischievously grinning as a string of your essence connected in between, noticing the rosy hue spreading across your bashful expression. 

“Don’t be ashamed,” She sucked her fingers clean, “…you taste sweet—of course.” You sat up, your gown covering the spot Jinx just invaded. Turning your attention to the cherries, you picked one up, wasting no time in biting into it. 

Jinx stares as the crimson juices trickle down your chin, stretching her finger out to prevent it from dropping on your gown. Licking her index finger, Jinx hums at the taste of cherries. 

“It’s good, right?” You feel the need to verify if she finds it delicious too. Jinx, however, just shrugs and grabs ahold of your hips, “You know what’s good?” Giggling, you straddle her lap, facing her directly. 

Jinx chuckles, watching you finish the cherry and throwing the seed on the platter before cupping her face. 

  “Now the cherry is on top.” 

creds to the dividers. thank you for reading! reblogs r appreciated:)

[darktrashsoulbear]

The Abyss Of Affection

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: Aemond discovers the book his sweet wife has been obsessed with and after reading one of the scenes, a plan begins to formulate (fluff)

This was inspired by a conversation I had with the wonderful Hannah @gwaynesprincess

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Taglist

Warnings: Allusions to smut

Word Count: 2308

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Not entirely show canon as Jaehaerys is alive, Maelor exists and people are happy

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

His calculated footsteps echoed in the hallways of the keep’s royal chambers, following the elder of the King’s brothers - Prince Aemond Targaryen - back to his chambers after an incredibly taxing day filled with fulfilling duties that were not his own and patrolling the city atop his beloved Vhagar, the Queen of all Dragons. Many would argue a dragon fit for a true king, Aemond would agree. Finally rounding the corner, he greeted the familiar face of Ser Steffon giving a cordial nod as he made his way through the doors of his chambers, removing his cloak as he went. 

The sight that greeted the prince was not surprising yet still brought a small, fond smile to his face. Laying on her side of the feather bed was his sweet wife curled up under the various blankets spread across the bed to combat the chill in the air as the citadel switched black ravens to white and summer turned to winter. Aemond made quick work of stripping out of his leathers and into a loose night shirt and breeches ready to join his wife in slumber.

Just as he was about to blow out the candles beside where they lay, he noticed a book beneath the blankets next to his sweet wife’s sleeping form. He picked it up ready to place it on the small table on her side of the bed before taking a look at the title and realising it was the book that had so often stolen her attention away from him during the nights they spent together before the fire. The prince’s insatiable curiosity, it seems, also extended to what on earth his sweet wife could be reading in the non-academic books she so loves.

Flipping over to one of the pages he remembers her completely raving about with her lady in waiting, he began to read and as he continued, a plan began to formulate.

She was met by a chorus of “good morrow, Princess” to which she responded with decidedly less vigour and an almost petulant expression as she discovered that her husband was in fact not in their shared chambers. This prompted the other ladies in the room to barely suppress their giggles knowing how not seeing her husband in the mornings can dampen her mood - not that the Prince fairs any better himself.

“Do any of you happen to know where my dear lord husband is at such an hour?” she discontentedly drawled.

The handmaidens exchanged uneasy glances with one another which, of course, did not escape her watchful gaze and she probed further with a single raise of an eyebrow. Silence ensued for a couple of very awkward, tension-filled seconds until the Princess’ lady in waiting - Elaena - stepped closer and stated that “we are not at liberty to say, Princess,” adding a slight curtsy at the end.

Again silence ensued only interrupted by her own chortle “what in the name of the seven do you mean ‘not at liberty’, forgive me but I am utterly confused.”

“I’m afraid Prince Aemond has forbidden us to speak of it Princess and he reminded us that if you demanded… well Princess he said for us to remember that his orders outrank yours,” Elaena hesitantly explained, shoulders visibly tense at her admission.

An even longer silence commenced, this one not so easily interrupted. Instead the Princess slightly nodded her head and proceeded to load some fresh fruits onto her plate before biting into a strawberry that was surprisingly ripe given the season. She sat with a contemplative look on her face, her ladies worried she was deeply hurt when really she was wondering what the best way to punish him would be, perhaps… 

She was pulled from her musings by a knock on the chamber doors which one of the handmaidens - Lyla - was quick to answer. She carried a written message delivered by a page boy and with mild curiosity the Princess unravelled it and began to read.

She then very calmly got up, retreating to the sitting chambers with her beloved book and instructed her handmaidens to leave her, and on their way to “inform Prince Aemond that if he wishes to have an audience he may do so in our private chambers, I am not a dog to be called to heel and told to wait in the dragon pit until he finally chooses to descend from the sky”.

Suddenly Queen Helaena turned to look directly into the Princess’ eyes causing her to startle. Helaena grasped her arms in a gentle hold and decided that “you will be very happy with it,” and while not always understanding but being kind to Helaena’s ways, the Princess confidently nodded in affirmation.

“I’m certain I will be sister,” followed by a soft squeeze of the Queen’s hands she quickly let go to ensure she didn’t crowd the gentle soul beside her.

Turning her attention to Maelor, the youngest of the King and Queen’s children, she scooped him into her arms and brought him to her lap where she proceeded to grab the second less than perfect dragon (Daeron’s first attempt) and began to play with him. Entirely encompassed by the babe's soft giggles she failed to notice the shadow of her husband nor feel the piercing but fond gaze he stared at the two of them with - giving him a few ideas of his own.

Finally sensing his presence, his sweet wife turned towards him and pinned him with a markedly less than sweet gaze. After returning Maelor to his mother, the princess stood, brushed off her dress, said her goodbyes to the children with the promise of visiting again soon, squeezed Helaena’s hand and strode straight past her dear husband without so much as a look in his direction.

Aemond Targaryen, the incredibly formidable man that he is, immediately turned and followed (and after speaking with her lady in waiting) trailed a step behind knowing that if he got any closer he may well be subject to a more physical attack.

“Sweet wife - ,” his mouth slammed shut, the sound of his teeth clacking together audible as she turned around to face him and he thanked the seven that they’d at least made it to the hall outside their chambers to give a small amount of privacy.

“How can I be of service to my Prince? Shall I draw you a bath, change your linens, perhaps wash them too? After all, your commands should certainly be obeyed by all who rank lower than you lord husband!” and Aemond’s moment of stunned silence was all she needed to turn and push the door to their chambers open, her hair almost whipping Aemond in the face. After clearing his throat and righting his already perfectly placed doublet, the prince followed after his wife. This time the nod to Ser Steffon was slightly more stiff and definitely less cordial. 

Upon entering their chambers, it became apparent that his sweet wife was just getting started on his torture as she began shedding her day clothes to ready herself for dinner that night as it had become customary for the royal family to dine together per the Dowager Queen Alicent’s request. As he walked in she turned to look at him, again raising a single eyebrow, a silent demand for him to explain himself and explain he did - after he managed to bring his eye back up to meet hers.

Aemond nervously began to describe how he had to go patrol the city earlier than expected that morrow and after his wife’s further probing he let out a sigh as he admitted that he was hiding something from her but he insisted she could not know. Instead he decided to avert her attention by apologising for his blunt and insensitive instructions, insisting his mind was incredibly preoccupied and he meant none of it. 

After a beat, his sweet wife looked back up at him and simply agreed that it was foolish of him before continuing to prepare herself for dinner. With the guilt still weighing down on him, Aemond tried once more to draw a further reaction from her and informed her that “we will not be dining with the family tonight, my heart, it shall just be the two of us so please do not feel obligated to wear something that will placate my mother”. The huff of air Aemond let out could have rivalled Vhagar’s as his Princess finally met his eye and gave a smile of her own.

The Princess very quickly decided that she would never again allow her husband to guide her through the gardens, at dusk, alone with no idea of where on earth he was going. She marvelled at how her Prince had spent the entirety of his life growing up within the walls of the keep while she had only moved here three years past when their betrothal was finalised and yet she knew the gardens a lot better than he did. They walked in silence with the occasional mumble of “I’m sure it was this way”, “perhaps it’s actually that way” and what she is sure sounded like a “seven hells this is so embarrassing”.

Eventually, the Princess abruptly stopped walking causing Aemond to turn back to look at her with wide eyes as though he was expecting her to end the night and head back into the castle (which definitely seems tempting) but instead she drew herself closer to him tracing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb and sweetly asked him to tell her where he wanted to go and she would lead the way. Confusion clouded her eyes when she saw her husband’s gaze darken with disappointment at not being able to keep the location secret before giving a rather reluctant nod and mumbling the area of the gardens.

This again caused her to still, as not long before setting off on their adventure she’d gotten to her favourite scene in the romance novel she was currently re-reading which described the relationship between two lovers from flea bottom snook into the castle’s garden and had a picnic beneath a section where two trees intertwined to look like a heart. She let out a small laugh at the coincidence before leading him in the direction of the garden’s that she learned the trees actually existed in when she went searching after her first time reading the book.

As they stepped through the clearing, fingers interlocked, Aemond’s sweet wife stopped dead in her tracks. The scene before her bringing an onslaught of tears to her eyes and Aemond’s own eye drank in her reaction feeling his chest expand with pride. The scene was exactly as described in the books - granted the royalty version - with a table in the middle of the clearing, the heart trees standing right before it. A small fire was lit as the air was cool and biting and she thanked the gods for giving her a husband intelligent enough to organise for a canopy to be set up over the table. Even the food was some of the meats and fresh fruit described in her book.

After taking it all in, the princess - now thankful for there being no escort - fisted her husband’s nicest leathers and brought him down for a bruising kiss, whispering thank you’s and I love you’s in between.

Aemond’s own heart was beating out of his chest as they finally pulled away from one another and he helped her into her seat before taking his own next to her, never letting go of her hand - not even when they began to eat, opting to do it with his left hand instead, and certainly not as his sweet wife moved from her own seat into his lap, playing with his hair and telling him just how wonderfully he had done.

If you asked anyone who crossed paths with the Prince and Princess that night, they’d tell you that never before had they ever encountered two individuals looking so shamelessly in love. They’d express their shock as they witnessed their Prince, the fierce rider of Vhagar, laugh freely with his lady wife with his arm firmly wrapped around her waist and the Princess’ hand rubbing up and down his back.

As the Prince once again encountered Ser Steffon, he greeted the guard with a slightly more reserved smile than his wife received and instructed him to have a good night while he ushered his giggling wife inside. Once they were out of sight Ser Steffon let out a small chuckle of his own before walking a few paces down the hall, away from the door.

As the very smitten couple climbed into bed the Prince once again asked his sweet wife if everything met her standards to which she simply pulled herself up and decided on showing him how pleased she was instead - but not before ensuring the punishment she decided on earlier was carried out.

[hookingminor]

4 times you took care of him + 1 time he took care of you - nico hischier

a/n: rewrite of an old fic of mine

cw: brief mentions of blood, stitches, alcohol

word count: 7.4k

summary: nico is the cute neighbor boy across the hall

-

1. 

Sunday nights were your nights. After a long week of studying and working crazy hours, you only had one day to yourself where you weren’t running around like a chicken with its head cut off and could take five minutes to finally breathe. 

Sundays were also the only days you actually took the time to make yourself dinner. Most of your days were either spent in class or at the hospital, so you never prepared anything that couldn’t be done in less than ten minutes. Sometimes you were so lazy that you just counted on cafeteria food and granola bars to hold you over before having cereal for dinner and crashing by eleven o’clock.

Tonight’s specialty was your own take on a carbonara with some grilled chicken on the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, but you had been working on a recipe to perfect this for nearly three months now, and you were almost satisfied with the results.

It was in the middle of adding the finishing touches by combining the pasta and the sauce when you heard a knock on your door. Setting the towel on the counter and reducing the stove heat to a low simmer, you made your way to answer the door.

“Oh, hi, Nico,” you said with surprise when you saw your neighbor on the other side. He lived across the hall from you, but you rarely saw him in the building. Still, it wasn’t hard to notice that he was incredibly attractive.

“Hi,” he greeted you. The smells of your dinner wafted over him, and he peeked over your head to catch a glimpse of what you were preparing. 

“I just stopped by to drop this off,” he said, handing you an envelope. “They keep mixing up our mailboxes.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you glanced down at the letter. “I have a few for you as well, hold on just a second.”

You turned away from the door and walked back towards the kitchen to where you kept a stash of his mail. You’d been meaning to drop it off, but your hours at home never coincided with each other. 

Granted, you could have slipped it under his door, but you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute neighbor boy. You were just waiting until you worked up the nerve to knock on his door.

Nico took a few steps into your apartment, not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly as you rummaged through some papers. As he waited, his eyes wandered back over to the stove where you were cooking some type of pasta. 

His stomach growled lowly as the smell of seasoned chicken and sauces flooded his senses, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in nearly five hours.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. There was no way you hadn’t heard that grumble. “Guess I forgot to eat something after practice.”

“Did you want some?” You asked almost too eagerly. “I mean, I made quite a bit,” you backtracked quickly, “I usually survive the week on leftovers.”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckled, but Nico wanted nothing more than to shove a forkful of whatever you had made into his mouth. “I’ll probably just order something for delivery.”

“Please, I insist,” you persisted, “I made a lot, and your food won’t be here for, like, another hour at least.” God, you were coming off as desperate, and you mentally slapped yourself for it.

He looked at you hesitantly, obviously not wanting to intrude, but damn if he wasn’t really hungry.

You didn’t wait for his reply before dropping the mail back where it was and crossing the kitchen to the stove. Pulling out an extra plate, you began piling it with pasta and chicken, and Nico figured it was too late to refuse you again.

“Take a seat,” you suggested as you plated a dish for yourself. “You’re not an intrusion, I promise. I don’t get a lot of company anyways.”

“Busy life?” Nico asked. It was then that he realized he really didn’t know much about you despite having run into you multiple times in the hallways.

“You could say that,” you chuckled humorlessly. It was a combination of being both busy and having no friends, but you weren’t about to tell him that. 

“What do you do?” He questioned as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I’m a nursing student, so I spend all my time studying or working at the hospital,” you explained as you brought the plates over to the table. He mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when you set his food down in front of him. It looked delicious. Nico’s skills in the kitchen were subpar to say the least; he couldn’t make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or wasn’t baked chicken and vegetables. So having an actual home cooked meal was starting to feel like Christmas.

“Is that why I only ever see you coming home at midnight?” He wondered, picking up a fork to take a bite.

Nico was right, it was delicious. 

“Yeah, hours are a little crazy for me right now, but they should settle down once I graduate,” you replied as you took a bite. It was your best carbonara yet, but it wasn’t quite perfect. “What about you? Why are you always coming home at midnight?”

You’d never talked to him much after that first day when he helped you with a couple boxes as you moved in. Most of your interactions were restricted to passing each other in the halls and the polite conversation about how your day was going and the weather.

“I, uh, play hockey,” he started, “and we get back from road trips really late sometimes.”

“No shit, really?” Your eyes widened in shock, “like you play for the Devils?” You weren’t well versed in sports in general, and even less so in New Jersey sports. However, you did hear chatter around from your classmates and coworkers about various games.

Nico nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, I’m the captain.” Every revelation about him continued to shock you.

“So I’m dining with New Jersey royalty then, huh?” You teased after a moment. Even though you didn’t know much, you did know the Devils were doing exceptionally well at the moment.

He blushed at your compliment, “I’m not royalty.”

“Your team’s current record says otherwise given the team’s horrendous past ,” you commented, dropping the little bit of knowledge you knew as you overheard your lab partner go on about the Devils’ hot streak.

Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise at your statement.

“I’m not an actual fan, so don’t test me,” you chuckled at his surprise, “My lab partner is always talking about the Devils, and I may have unknowingly processed some of the information.”

“It’s not because of me. The team’s just doing well in general,” he brushed it off casually, but you knew that wasn’t totally the case. The team may be good, but good leadership can be what makes or breaks them.

“So you’re not a big cook then, I presume?” You asked instead, changing the subject to something else. Nico probably talked about hockey enough with other people, you didn’t want to bore him even more.

“You could say that,” he said, repeating your phrase from earlier. “If it’s not something a seven year old could make, it’s not something I could make.” He had barely registered that he’d finished off everything on his plate by now while you were still finishing yours.

“Did you want more?” You asked, noticing his empty plate, but Nico shook his head.

“No, thank you, this was more than enough,” Nico insisted. “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”

“Really, I don’t mind,” you said, clearing off your plate. “It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t asking me about upcoming exams or patient reports or asking for more painkillers.”

“It’s nice not talking about hockey, too,” he agreed.

Rising from your seat, you took his plate and yours to the sink as you were both now finished.

“I got this,” Nico said quickly, following you to the sink and lightly hip checking you out the way. “I do know basic manners. You cooked, so I’ll clean.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face said the conversation was already over, and he grabbed the sponge with one hand. Deciding to leave it alone, you held your hands up in surrender and backed away from the sink. While he was busy, you packed up the leftovers into a plastic container.

“I make dinner every Sunday,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “So, if you want, you’re always free to join me.” You didn’t look at him when you said this, trying to keep it casual and so he wouldn’t see the way your face was riddled with embarrassment. You were trying to subtly ask him to come over more, and you didn’t want to be faced with his rejection.

You heard the sink shutoff and saw his body turn towards yours out of the corner of your eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“I’d really like that,” he said, “but I do have one condition though.” You looked up and met his gaze with raised brows.

“You have to teach me how to cook,” he continued with an easy grin as he dried off his hands with a towel.

“You’ve got a deal,” you agreed, matching his smile with one of your own.

You sent Nico home that night with the leftover carbonara and his mail despite his protests, but you argued that he couldn’t live off takeout forever and that you could always make more food whereas he could not.

The next Sunday he had showed up around dinner time once again, this time bringing over a plate of cookies that he most definitely bought at the store but tried to play off as baking them himself. He had said if you were going to be doing a majority of the work, the least he could do was bring you something in return.

Every Sunday after that Nico was at your place. On the off chance he was out of town, he always left you a note on your door saying he wouldn’t be making it and notifying you of when he’d see you next. You didn’t need the notes, he didn’t have to tell you whether or not he was coming, but they made your heart flutter every time you came home and saw a blue sticky note waiting for you. 

You taught him a few staple dishes, mainly how to cook pasta and rice and some salads. His capabilities weren’t all that vast, and he wanted to remain in the realm of foods that weren’t too complicated so he couldn’t fuck up.

Making dinner with Nico turned into messing around in the kitchen for a couple hours most of the time. You teased him about his chopping abilities and he teased you every time your small hands dropped something due to your lack of coordination, to which you complained how not everyone could be a professional athlete. 

And every time you two ate at your same spots at the table, sometimes splitting a bottle of wine that Nico would bring over. 

Every once in a while Nico would arrive with a bag of takeout in his hand, declaring that you needed a break from all the cooking. There was no reason to have dinner together since it wasn’t under the guise of teaching him something new, but you still welcomed him nonetheless.

Sundays were no longer your nights, but that was perfectly fine by you as long as you could keep sharing them with Nico.

-

2. 

Nico was getting a little desperate. 

Two months had passed since he started coming over for weekly dinners, and he was making no progress. It’s not like he was really trying, though. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure how to flirt with a woman without the intention of sleeping with her.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t want to sleep with you because he definitely did, it just wasn’t all that he wanted.

He hoped he conveyed interest on his part, but he wasn’t positive you were picking up on his hints. Or maybe you just weren’t into him.

So, he decided to take it one step further. He bought some plants.

Nico knew next to nothing about plants other than that they needed water, but he’d noticed you kept a few in your apartment near your large window.

Once again, he found himself knocking on your door, but this time you weren’t expecting it.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him when you opened the door. It wasn’t like him to show up to your place out of the blue.

“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got a week long roadie and was wondering if, maybe, you’d look after my plants?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I can do that,” you said with a smile.

“Do you have a minute right now? I can show them to you really quick,” he asked, gesturing with his arm to his door. You nodded your head in agreement, and Nico took a few steps backward to let you into his apartment.

You followed him through the entrance and paused briefly. His apartment layout was the exact same as yours only flipped. He walked until he hit the same balcony window where you kept your plants, and you saw he had about four small pots along with a large pot that sat in the corner.

“This is the gang,” he introduced, spreading his arms to show them off.

“This is so cute,” you chuckled, stepping closer to get a better look at the plants. You noticed one of them was also one you had.

“I’m going to be honest,” he started. “I only recently bought them, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Well, they seem to be still living, so you haven’t done anything too bad,” you teased lightly.

“Oh, let me get the spare key for you,” he said suddenly before he turned and left you alone to fetch the key.

Nico returned less than a minute later, small black key fob in his hand. You opened your hand for him to place it in your palm.

“When will you be back?” You asked, stretching back up from your squatted position.

“Next Wednesday,” he clarified, “and I leave tomorrow.” You nodded.

There wasn’t much more to say, so you told him a brief ‘good luck’ on his roadie before leaving. Returning to your own, you made a mental note to check in on his plants tomorrow.

The following afternoon, you let yourself into Nico’s apartment with the key he’d given you. You read the sticky note he left for you on the counter, the words reading ‘in case of an emergency’ along with his phone number.

You rolled your eyes at the note, laughing lightly at his phrasing of ‘in case of an emergency.’ You hardly thought watering plants would cause a catastrophic event, but the gesture was cute.

Filling up a few cups of water, you made your way over to his plants and distributed the water throughout until you’d gone over all of them. Before you could think better of it, you snapped a picture of the plants in the window before opening a text thread to Nico.

You: First day all done! :)

He didn’t reply for a few hours, but that was okay because you hadn’t expected him to reply at all.

Nico: They’re looking better already!

Ever since that first day, you began exchanging messages. His replies were sporadic, but you didn’t mind; he was a busy guy. Still, he managed to text you whenever he could, and your conversations quickly turned away from his plants to other subjects. 

You recommended some new shows for him to watch while he was on road trips, and he told you where his favorite takeout restaurants were when you felt too lazy to cook. 

Honestly, Sundays didn’t feel the same without him, but you didn’t tell him you stopped cooking when he didn’t show up.

Even when Nico was back in town, you found yourself texting him frequently in your classes and also on your breaks, and Nico found himself waking up every morning looking forward to whatever message you’d sent after he’d fallen asleep.

-

3. 

The incessant pounding at your door woke you up from your sleep. You knew who it was immediately as there was only one person who visited you, and you were ready to yell at him after you answered the door. 

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stomped your way to the door and shouted out, “I’m coming!” so Nico could take the hint to shut the hell up.

“Oh my god, Nico,” you groaned as you threw open the door, “It’s two in the fucking morning.” But it wasn’t Nico you were greeted with.

Or rather, he wasn’t the only one outside the door.

“Uh, hi,” a man said as Nico leaned against him, very obviously drunk.

“Hi?” You asked, your eyes flicking over to the drunken Nico.

“I think he lost his key,” the stranger said, “and then he was knocking on your door before I could take him back to my place.”

“Of course,” you sighed. “You love bothering me, don’t you, Nico?”

“Y/N,” he slurred your name when he heard your voice. “I told you she was beautiful, Hughes.” He clearly meant to whisper the last part into his friend’s ear, but his impaired state changed his whisper into a quiet shout.

“Alright, buddy, let’s keep it down,” his friend said with a chuckle as he tried to spare him from saying something else embarrassing.

“Do you still have my key? I forgot mine,” Nico asked instead, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I left it in your apartment last time I watered the plants,” you answered and Nico let out an annoyed groan.

“It’s fine, he can stay here tonight,” you said, addressing his friend this time.

“You sure? I don’t want to bother you,” his friend insisted. “I can just bring him back to my place.”

“Don’t worry about it, you already dragged him all the way here. I can handle it,” you said and opened the door further.

His friend lugged him into your apartment and led Nico to the couch, plopping him down on the cushions.

“Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry for waking you,” he apologized once Nico was settled.

“No problem, I’m used to him interrupting my nights,” you chuckled lightly, though it sounded more sexual than you intended for it to.

“Yeah, well,” the stranger said with an awkward laugh, “I’ll get out of your hair then.” And then he turned to leave. “Hischier! Text me in the morning!” He called out one last time and Nico grumbled his acknowledgement. Then his friend was gone, leaving you alone with a drunken twenty-something year old.

“Alright, Nico, let’s get you ready for bed,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. He was splayed out on his back on your couch, head lolled against a decorative pillow. If it weren’t for his indecipherable sounds, you would’ve thought he was asleep.

You left him alone for a minute as you retreated back to your room to grab a couple extra blankets and a pillow that wouldn’t end up hurting his neck.

When you returned, Nico was now on his stomach with one arm dangled off the couch.

“Feeling okay, bud?” You asked gently, brushing back a few strands of his hair to check if he was still awake. He hummed a quiet ‘yeah’ and you lifted his head to replace the throw pillow with a fluffier one from your bed.

You draped one large blanket over his body and then set another smaller one on top of that. Nico sighed in content and you made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a couple Advil pills and a glass of water.

“Can you drink this before you fall asleep?” You asked when you got back to the living room. 

Despite his intoxication, Nico managed to sit up just enough to swallow the pills down with a drink of water before flopping his head back down. You set the half-full glass on the coffee table and leaned over to turn off the lamp.

“You good to sleep?” You questioned, and Nico nodded his head to the best of his ability.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” you said finally, making your way back to the hallway.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly before you were out of hearing range, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nico,” you murmured with a small smile.

-

4.

“How the hell did this even happen? Sticks are supposed to remain on the ice, you know,” you wondered with curiosity. 

Nico knocked on your door at nearly midnight, hair still damp from his shower and still in his Devils sweats. If it weren’t for the fact that you were awake and watching a movie, you wouldn’t have noticed the knocking. 

When you opened the door, you were met with split stitches and tired eyes. Ushering him into your apartment, you led him to the bathroom where you kept the first-aid. 

Nico pushed himself up so he could sit on your counter and gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “They stitched me up after the game, but they came out.”

“So, why didn’t you contact your trainers or something?” You inquired, opening your kit and grabbing the alcohol.

“Because I have a perfectly good nurse here at home to stitch me back up,” he answered with an easy grin. You gave him an incredulous look.

“It seems like I’m constantly getting the short end of the stick in this relationship,” you said as you stepped between his legs to inspect his face. It wasn’t anything serious, just a few stitches that broke. In all honesty, he probably could’ve survived the night without fixing it, but you weren’t going to turn down an opportunity to be this close to him.

“Close your eyes,” you ordered before he could say anything back. Nico followed your instruction obediently, fluttering his eyes shut as if he had all the time in the world.

Using a small pair of scissors, you snipped at the remaining stitches. You took the tweezers next and gently pulled at the broken strands, slowly removing them from his cheek. Nico’s eyes twitched slightly at the discomfort, but he said nothing as you reopened his wound.

“You’re really good at this,” he stated, and you noticed that he had opened one eye to watch you. You blushed at his compliment, your cheeks heating at the warm feeling you got when you looked into his eyes.

Averting his gaze, you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ before opening an alcohol pad.

“You’re going to want to really close your eyes for this, it might burn,” you recommended. The cut was along his cheekbone, stretching about three inches and oozing just a little bit of blood.

You cleaned along the cut lightly, one of your hands cupping his cheek while the other managed the wipe. After throwing the bloodied pad off to the side, you brought out the small bottle of lidocaine you had stashed away underneath all your bandaids. You squeezed a bit onto a cotton swab and dabbed the area around the cut. The lidocaine took a few minutes to kick in, so you busied yourself by preparing the thread and sanitizing the needle.

“I want you to know that I’m not actually a certified nurse yet. I’m still in training,” you explained. “So, if this hurts it’s your fault.”

“I trust you,” he said simply with a smirk.

“I would hope so,” you scoffed, “You’re letting a nursing student with a needle stitch near the eye of the New Jersey Devils Captain.”

“Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll just blame it on you when we lose after I can’t play because I’ve been blinded,” he teased.

“Don’t even joke about that, Nico. All of New Jersey would burn me alive,” you said, slugging his arm in response.

Was he about to let a beautiful, uncertified girl stitch him back together just because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her? Absolutely.

He gave you a light chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching deliciously over his broad chest. It took everything in you to not linger your eyes over his arms and how large they looked right now.

“Is it numb yet?” You asked instead, refocusing your attention on threading the needle.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, bringing a couple fingers to poke at his cheek, but you swatted his hand away before he could do more damage.

Taking the same position as before, you stood between his legs again and angled his head slightly to the side so you could examine it under better light.

“Just let me know if it hurts, okay?” You insisted, holding the needle between your tweezers. You waited for Nico’s nod of agreement before starting.

You punctured the skin with the point and crossed the wound before poking through the other side. Nico’s hands instinctively reached out to grasp at your hips as he breathed in a sharp breath of air. 

“Oh my god, is it not numb?” You panicked, pausing all your movements as you gauged his face for any signs of pain.

“It stung a little bit,” he replied, but the tightened grip on your waist said otherwise. “I was just a little shocked, is all.” He added that last part when he saw the worry spread across your face as your eyes widened in fear of hurting him. “Keep going, I’m fine.”

You gave him a hesitant look, not wanting to continue if it was going to cause him pain. This time when he squeezed your sides, it was to reassure you and encourage you to continue. 

Nico kept his hands where they were, sliding his thumbs just underneath the hem of your shirt to trace soft circles into your skin. Recommencing your movements, you repeated the same crisscrossing threads over his cut, trying to work as quickly as possible.

When you’d finished, you knotted off the ends, clipped the remaining thread, and applied a salve over the sealed wound.

“There you go,” you said as you finished touching him up.

“And my kiss to make it feel better?” He asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness but leaned in to press a light kiss near his stitches.

“Can I trust you to not pull them out again?” You retorted, stepping out of his grip to clean up your supplies.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off as in deep contemplation, “I might need you to spend the night and keep an eye on me.”

“Nice try, bud,” you chuckled, “but it’s not going to happen.” He pouted. 

“And if you do tear them again, I’m not restitching it.”

You finished packing away your materials and walked Nico back to your front door.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said when you opened the door. 

“Anytime,” you replied, “Goodnight, Nico.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek in appreciation before crossing the few feet to his door. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes widened in shock, but if he did see, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

-

+ 1 

For the first time since you’ve met Nico, it was finally your turn to cancel on dinner. You really didn’t want to, as the dinners with him were the highlight of your week, but you knew if you broke concentration for even a minute to entertain him, your mind would be thinking about him even after he left. And you were not going to pass the NCLEX if Nico was invading all of your thoughts. You’d been studying for this exam for months, but now it was a week out and it was crunch time.

You: Gotta cancel on dinner Sunday, sorry :(

Nico: Going out of town? Got a hot date?

You: The only dates I’ll be having for the next week is between me and my millions of notes for my board exam 

Nico: Stressed out?

You: You wouldn’t even believe, so if I’m MIA for a few days, don’t worry 

Nico: Are we still on for next Sunday?

You: Yes. We will either be celebrating or commiserating, so get your wine ready

Nico: I’ll bring over the best since we’ll be celebrating :)

You didn’t know how to reply, so you reacted to his message with a thumbs up before leaving him on read.

-

For the next few days, you studied your ass off. Sunday came, but when six o’clock rolled around, you couldn’t help your thoughts from straying from your studies and over to what you would be doing with Nico if it weren’t for this stupid exam.

And as if he had read your mind, your phone dinged with a new text message.

Nico: Open your door

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the text, and you were just about to tell him off for disturbing you after you already told him you didn’t have the time.

However, that wasn’t the case because when you opened your door, Nico was nowhere to be found although a paper bag rested on the ground in front of you. 

Cautiously, you picked up the bag and brought it inside, immediately smelling the tzatziki sauce from your favorite Greek restaurant.

You: What’s this?

You texted him, along with a picture of the bag.

Nico: Even if we aren’t making dinner, you should still eat, and I figured gyros were better than cereal 

He was right. You had planned on pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when the hunger became too much and forced you to take a break. And gyros definitely were better than Frosted Flakes.

You: You’re a lifesaver, truly. Thank you!

Nico opened the message and didn’t reply, even though he really wanted to, but he knew you had studying to do and the last thing he wanted was to distract you.

-

After pulling an all-nighter, Sunday slowly turned into Monday, and you had finally decided to go to bed at nine on Monday morning. The few hours of sleep you got were welcomed, but rest did little to calm yourself down. The exam was on Friday, and you still had four years worth of material to remember. 

So, you dragged yourself out of bed around three in the afternoon and plopped yourself on the ground in front of your couch where all your notes were still spread on the floor.

You’d gotten through about four chapters in your review book before you heard a knock at the door. 

Pushing yourself up by your hands, you crossed the length of the apartment to the door. If it was Nico, he was about to be really turned off by how messy you looked.

And once again, it wasn’t him. 

Just like yesterday, something awaited you in front of your door. This time, it was a four cup drink tray filled with different coffees. 

Picking them up off the ground, you walked it back into your home and set it on your kitchen counter. There was a blue sticky note attached to the top in true Nico style, and you were smiling at the familiar handwriting before you even read what it said.

Thought you could use a pick-me-up :)

PS: I didn’t know what you liked, but you’re NOT allowed to drink these all at once

You chuckled at the last sentence. Of course he would send you four different orders because he didn’t know what you wanted. In all honesty, you could survive on just plain black coffee with nothing added if needed, but the fact that he sent you options had your heart swelling. 

You scanned through each cup, reading the labels on each one as they ranged from a standard black coffee to a sweet caramel latte, all of them iced (you had mentioned once that you only drank iced coffee, even in the middle of the winter). It didn’t slip your mind that this was from that expensive shop a few blocks down, the one you could only allow yourself to go to once a month because you knew it would drain you quickly.

Deciding to tease Nico a little bit, you stuck a straw in every single lid. You connected all four straws in the middle and closed your lips over them and took a drink. The resulting taste wasn’t fantastic, but it was worth the funny selfie you took drinking them that you sent to Nico.

You: What was it that I wasn’t allowed to do? Your note wasn’t clear 

Nico: I’m never sending you coffee again

-

On Tuesday, Nico sent you a bouquet of sunflowers. They were massive and bright and you couldn’t see over them as you placed them on the table.

Hope these sunflowers brighten up your day

-

On Wednesday, Nico got back from his short roadie. Maybe it was the constant studying, or maybe it was the little gifts Nico sent you, but your stress levels seemed to calm down as the week went on. There was still the pressure to do well, but every time Nico sent something to you, it was as if everything became a little bit more manageable.

You invited him over to hang out for a little bit, just to thank him for the things he’d done for you. You expected him to stay for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, and then you’d send him home with some cookies you’d baked for him. Instead, he grabbed the plate of cookies and made himself comfortable on your couch.

“You just made these?” He asked with a mouthful of cookie as he picked up a stack of flashcards. You nodded as you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“What’s the therapeutic drug level for theo… theoph…” he began to say, but trailed off, “Never mind. I was trying to help, but I can’t pronounce any of these words.” He ended the sentence with a chuckle before flicking the flashcard over to you.

“The word is theophylline,” you laughed, “and the answer is 10-20 micrograms per deciliter.”

“I understand none of those words, so that probably means it’s right,” he said as he finished his second cookie.

“If you want to help me I know something you can do,” you said eagerly, “And you don’t even have to speak, just sit there and look pretty.”

“That I can do,” he agreed with a nod and sat up to place the cookies on the coffee table. “Where do you want me?”

“Right there is fine. I’m just going to do a standard routine checkup like you’d get at the doctor’s,” you explained, grabbing your small bag of medical tools.

You ran through your procedure, checking your notes periodically to make sure you asked all the questions. Nico had no problem being your puppet, even answering some questions with ridiculous answers.

“And are you sexually active?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle. You gave him an unamused glare.

“It’s part of the questions, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and Nico laughed. “Never mind, I already know the answer anyway.”

“That was one time!” He groaned as he flopped his head back against the cushion. You were obviously referring to the one time you had a run in with one of his hookups. “I haven’t had anyone here since then.”

“Thank god for that,” you muttered, “but she did seem like a nice girl.”

Nico gave you a disbelieving look. You’d ran into them as you were returning from an overnight shift at nearly seven in the morning as Nico was trying to get rid of her, but she was hoping to get another date out of him before she left.

It was an awkward interaction to say the least, and Nico immediately called over to you to get your attention. The girl was displeased because you were interrupting their conversation and also because Nico had used you as an excuse to get out of scheduling another date.

“Oh, Y/N, you still needed me to fix that thing for you, right?” He had asked when he saw you walking down the hall. It took you all of two seconds to process the situation and Nico’s panicked and pleading eyes before you were agreeing. You even threw in the fact that it was urgent and that he needed to help right now, to which the girl gave you an eye roll.

Needless to say, Nico thanked you profusely for saving his ass and never called the girl again. That was over three months ago, and you had yet to see another girl leave his apartment.

“Well, I think I’m done with all the questions,” you concluded finally. “I think it’s safe to say you are in impeccable shape, Mr. Hischier.”

“Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?” He asked.

“Technically, I never invited you to stay. You kind of just sat here and made yourself at home,” you replied.

“I’m sorry for wanting to catch up with my friend after not seeing her in a week,” he joked.

“And you’re going to have to wait another few days for that, bud,” you chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll go, but I’m taking the cookies.”

“They were yours to begin with, idiot.”

-

On Thursday, you received one final package. It was a wrapped box, obviously done by someone who’s never wrapped a gift in their life. 

Opening it, there was Nico’s same scrawl on the familiar blue sticky note.

Something to look forward to after you ace this exam tomorrow!

Underneath the note was a ticket to a Devils game on Sunday against Vancouver, but it wasn’t the only thing in the box. You pulled out a red sweatshirt with the New Jersey Devils logo on the front. There was nothing on the back, but the number ‘13’ could be seen on both sleeves.

The thought of Nico sending you something with his number on it had your cheeks heating instantly. He’d been teasing you about coming to a game, and it seemed you finally had a reason to go now.

-

After you took your exam, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your school days were behind you now, and you could now start your career. The exam results still took six weeks, but you were feeling pretty confident in yourself.

Nico had texted you instructions to wait for him after the game on Sunday. He wanted you to try and meet him somewhere, but your navigation skills were terrible and you were sure to get lost in an arena you’d never been in.

So, you met him outside his car in the parking lot where the team parked.

“There he is,” you called out, clapping, when you saw him exit the arena, “First star of the night with two goals, Captain Nico Hischier!” You gave him your best announcer voice.

“Shut up,” he replied with a chuckle, but his face was beaming with a wide smile.

“Good game tonight,” you said with a smile of your own. “Trying to impress someone?”

By this time, Nico had reached the car, and he was dropping his bag on the ground before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug.

“I’m always trying to impress you,” he mumbled against your hair before he set you back down.

“Well, consider me impressed,” you gushed. 

“I was thinking...” Nico said after a moment.

“Uh oh,” you interjected with a worried look.

“Don’t be a dork,” he chuckled. “I was thinking that instead of going back home and making dinner I can take you out tonight instead.”

“Celebratory dinner for your win?” You questioned.

“And for your exam,” he added, “And also maybe as a date?” Nico said the last part quietly and quickly averted your gaze.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nico?” You asked for clarification, but the smile on your face was spreading wider as the seconds passed.

“Yes, I am,” he said with a deep swallow.

You squinted your eyes, as if in deep contemplation.

“Well, I’ve only been waiting, like, months for you to ask me,” you teased. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes bright as he reached out to pull you closer to his body. You hummed in agreement and connected your hands behind his neck.

“I was starting to think you’d never get the hint,” you said quietly.

“I was just waiting for the right time,” he insisted, hands resting on your hips, “And if I’m being honest, I really want to kiss you right now.”

You didn’t answer him in words. Instead, you pushed up on your tip-toes and leaned in to connect your lips to his. The kiss was soft, neither of you wanting to push too far too fast. He moved his lips against yours gently, taking his time to convey how he felt about you.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, you both had stupid looks on your face as you were both giddy with joy.

“Atta boy, Cap!” A loud voice shouted across the lot along with some hoots, and you let your head fall against Nico’s chest as you chuckled to yourself.

“Fuck off, Jack!” Nico yelled back before dipping his head down to kiss the top of yours. “Ignore him, he’s annoying. Let’s get out of here before they try and come over.”

“Lead the way,” you said, breaking apart so you could climb in his car. 

-

Six weeks later, your results came in.

You let yourself into Nico’s unlocked apartment. Ever since you started dating, it just seemed a lot easier to leave your apartments unlocked during the day so you could easily bounce between places.

“Nico, it’s here!” You exclaimed, spotting him on the couch. He looked up from whatever show he was watching and paused it immediately when he saw the envelope in your hands.

You basically sprinted across the room and plopped down onto his lap before shoving it into his hands.

“You open it, I can’t do it,” you murmured against the side of his head, your arms slinging over his shoulders as one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Nico chuckled as he ripped open the paper and pulled out the letter.

“What does it say?” You asked, your head tucked into his neck so you couldn’t read the results.

“Babe…” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked worriedly, peeling yourself from his neck to read the letter yourself.

Congratulations! You have passed the NCLEX exam!

You didn’t even bother to read the rest of the letter once you’d read those first two sentences.

“You asshole, that wasn’t funny!” You said, pushing his head away from you as he laughed.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” he replied, “And now my girlfriend is officially a sexy nurse.” Nico pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You better get that idea out of your head right now,” you said warningly, already knowing where his thoughts were headed.

“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you, baby,” he said happily.

“I probably would’ve combusted from stress had it not been for your little gifts,” you admitted.

“What can I say? I was so whipped for you,” he said.

“You really were, weren’t you? The flowers and the sweatshirt with your number on it…” you teased, and he poked your side in retaliation.

“Kidding,” you giggled happily, “and I’m whipped for you, too, Nico.”

[zegrasdrysdale]

I have a request could you do where the reader is dating Jack Hughes and she is a singer and she is on tour and the whole Hughes family pull up to her concert and Trevor and Cole come too and he just can;t stop smiling up at her and after the consent they have a Taylor and Travis moment where he is everyone is waiting for her and she runs up to Jack to hug him

[ the alchemy ] j. hughes

➾ paring : Jack Hughes x famous!fem!reader

➾ summary : after boyfriend Jack, his family and a couple of his friends, reader runs up to him after and confirming the rumors surrounding their relationship

➾ warning(s) : a pov switch, an occasional use of “y/n” in Jack’s pov

➾ author’s note : been wantinggg to write something like this so ty anon for sending this in. also, i’m just using the alchemy as an original song for our reader in this fic. literally no other taylor song will be used lmaooo

༺═──────────────═༻

⦗Jack’s POV ⦘

He hasn’t been back to Jersey since before the shoulder surgery that took him out for the last handful of games of the season. There's a sense of déjà vu when his flight from Michigan lands. Jack feels good though, unlike the last time he was in Jersey, and has been medically cleared to resume light activity.

Light activity means attending his girlfriend’s first show of three at MetLife without his sling on. He has yet to see her play on this insane tour she’s been on for the past few months because of the surgery and watching the Canucks in the playoffs.

Jack’s been good and has been following his doctor’s orders so he feels like this would be a good way to celebrate.

After reaching out to his girlfriend’s security team, Jack got his family and a couple of friends permission to be in the VIP tent for one show. He has full access to the tent being her boyfriend, but he has to get permission to bring friends or family that aren’t her friends or family that is already on the list. He asked for his request to be kept between them since he’s trying to surprise her.

Will she find out anyway? Probably. He’s a big name in the hockey world, especially in New Jersey. Jack’s pretty sure the news will spread when he shows up before her set with his family. Especially with all the rumors surrounding their relationship.

Trevor and Cole even fly into Jersey after Jack told them that they could come to the show if they wanted. He picks them up from Newark International that morning. He goes to Luke’s apartment instead of the apartment he shares with (Y/N) since the two of them might want some privacy after the show. Quinn and his parents are already there when he walks in with his friends.

His mom sits with Quinn and Luke on his couch when he walks in with his friends. Trevor and Cole greet the oldest and youngest Hughes while Jack collapses on the couch beside his mom.

“Does your shoulder hurt?” Ellen questions. “Because I brought your medicine with us-”

“It’s okay,” Jack tells his mom. “I brought some with me and took one before I picked up Trevor and Cole. It feels good right now.”

She nods while Trevor and Cole put their things away in Luke’s only extra bedroom.

Jack has no idea what their sleeping arrangements are going to be tonight but he knows that their parents got a hotel room nearby while Quinn, Trevor, and Cole all stay at Luke’s. He offered them the extra bedrooms in the apartment he shares with his girlfriend but they told him that they weren’t interested in hearing what happens when they get home after the show. He wasn’t going to press on the issue so he dropped it.

Around three, Jack leaves Luke’s apartment with Trevor and Cole. The trio head to his shared apartment because he knows that (Y/N) has left to go to the arena. Jack is very much aware of when she leaves for shows. She likes to get there early to soundcheck, costume try ons, do a little rehearsal backstage, and decompress before a show. Especially one this big.

He changes out of his casual t-shirt and loose sport shorts into something more presentable. He throws on a dark blue button up and a pair of jeans. He puts on a hat and a pair of white sneakers to complete the look.

Of course, his friends tease him about his outfit.

“You could go without the hat,” Trevor says. “I mean, you’re seeing your girlfriend for the first time in how long and you’re wearing a hat? She likes your matted hair for whatever reason.”

He rolls his eyes. “My hair is not matted,” he retorts. “Sometimes a little greasy from sweating and being trapped under a helmet but not matted.”

Cole laughs and Jack grabs his keys from the little table by the door. “Just saying,” Trevor replies. “Just looking out for you, Jacky. All eyes are going to be on you until your girl comes on stage tonight.”

He nearly shuts and locks them in his apartment for the night after that.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

⦗ reader’s POV ⦘

Another show, another city. She loves touring and love interacting with the people that gave her this opportunity, but it takes a toll on her after a while. She’s exhausted and she hasn’t even made it to the European leg of the tour yet.

Plus, it’s hard being away from family and friends for weeks and months at time. She hasn’t seen her parents since before she left to tour and FaceTime has become her best friend when she wants to talk to any of her friends or her boyfriend. Especially her boyfriend.

There are no words to express how much she misses Jack and being able to be with him.

She misses their movie nights where they'd fall asleep on the couch with a bowl of popcorn on one of their laps and the next morning it would be all over the floor. She misses the late night cuddles and morning kisses. She even misses when Jack would be late for bed after coming home from a game and he'd just watch film from said game. She loves to join him and he just talks her through every play. It's how she learned more than just the hockey basics that she already knew from watching with her dad when she was younger.

While she's in her dressing room after rehearsals and soundcheck, she pulls out her phone and text Jack since he's been on her mind for a little bit.

hughesy ♡ - 3:04 pm miss you. wish you were here tn

hughesy ♡ - 3:06 pm wish i was there too. you're gonna kill it like you always do (i've been living on tiktok since tour started so i can watch videos people post)

hughesy ♡ - 3:10 pm still. wish you could be here tn. i'd like to see you in the crowd at least once before i leave for the european part of the tour :((

hughesy ♡ - 3:13 pm you will. pinky promise

hughesy ♡ - 3:14 pm can't break a pinky promise, jack

hughesy ♡ - 3:16 pm you know i don't. i love you. see you soon 🤍

With a light sigh at Jack's promise to see her on tour, she puts down her phone and leans back where she sits on the loveseat. Her eyes close for a second and she imagines Jack being in the crowd for one of her shows. Especially after she debuts her new song tonight that she wrote with Jack in mind.

She should probably tell him that she wrote a song about him that will basically confirm their entire relationship. She wrote it to sound like sports in general but everyone will know that it's about Jack. They've all but publicly confirmed their relationship at this point so everyone will absolutely know that the song is about Jack.

The next few hours fly by as she begins to get into her first costume of the night -- a sparkly silver bodysuit made with thin fabric and a pair of matching heeled ankle boots. Hair and makeup come in as soon as she's dressed to get her ready for the several hour show she's about to put on in the hot New Jersey air since it's the dead of summer.

By eight, she's itching to get on stage in front of her hometown crowd. She's underneath the stage with a microphone waiting for her cue to go up.

Her music begins to play and the lights go out. The crowd screams as her platform begins to rise. She pops up right before the lights go on and she opens the show with one of the first songs she ever released when she was literally a 16-year-old out of New York. No one had ever heard her before and a record label took a risk on her after a couple of YouTube covers that got maybe 100 views each.

After her first song, she glances at the VIP tent to see who decided to come. She sees a handful of her Hollywood friends that live in New York City, one or two of her friends that she's made in Jersey over the past few years.

Then she sees Trevor Zegras. Cole Caufield stands in front of him. Luke and Quinn come into view next. Jack is right behind his brothers. Ellen and Jim are with them as well. She can't help but smile when she sees Jack.

The crowd around the tent turns and looks to see what she's smiling at. They lose it and she hears shouts of "Jack Hughes" from that area of the crowd.

Her band begins to play the next song and she jumps right back into the show. Jack being at the show is on the back of her mind. She forgot how good he looks without his arm in a sling. He looks really good, and she can't do anything about it right now.

The surprise portion of the night comes too quickly, but she's excited now that she knows that Jack is in the crowd for her debuting song.

She stands in front of her microphone stand and glances toward the tent where Jack stands. The crowd talks amongst themselves while she prepares herself for the next few minutes.

Everything is going to change in about five minutes.

"I have been debating giving you guys this song since I wrote it a few months ago," she begins to say into her mic. "It's one of my favorite songs that I have ever written, and you will understand why soon. This song is very much unreleased and this is the first time it has ever seen daylight so please be gentle with her. This is my gift to you for everything you have given me over the last few years. This is called 'The Alchemy'."

The crowd absolutely loses their minds when she's done talking. The beginning chords begin to play and she begins to sing these words live for the very first time.

This happens once every few lifetimes These chemicals hit me like white wine

What if I told you I'm back? The hospital was a drag Worst sleep that I ever had I circled you on a map I haven't come around in so long But I'm coming back so strong

Every so often, she turns her head toward the tent like she's singing the song to Jack. It's really to check on his reaction to the song. She spots the huge smile on her boyfriend's face and she mirrors it as she sings.

Flashlights are in the air as she sings since the crowd doesn't know the words. This is what she means by the connection she has with her audience. They always find a way to participate in the show, and she loves them for it. They are what makes this fun.

So when I touch down Call the amateurs and Cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby I'm the one to beat Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

The crowd loses their minds when they hear the sports reference. She grins before she begins the second verse, once again glancing over at Jack. Trevor is saying something to him, but Jack's eyes are on her. He nods at whatever Trevor is saying without even looking at him.

Her smile grows as she begins her favorite part of the song. She turns her head and looks directly at Jack in the tent.

Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads Beer sticking to the floor Cheers chanted, cause they said There was no chance, trying to be The greatest in the league Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me

As soon as the last line leaves her mouth, the crowd is deafening. She smiles as she's met with such a positive reaction to the song. The crowd gets even louder when the song actually ends. She takes a step back and takes in this moment because it's going to live with her for a very long time.

The crowd keeps the same kind of intensity for the rest of the show, which is about another hour at least. She may have pushed it a little longer as a thank you to the crowd for being so kind to her.

A part of her can't wait to get off stage to greet her boyfriend for the first time in months. She told security to go get him, his family, and his friends from the tent during the last song because she can't wait any longer to hug him, kiss him, and tell him how much she loves and missed him.

She doesn't care how many eyes will be on her when she goes running to him backstage. She just confirmed their entire relationship to millions of people, maybe even billions of people. The last thing she's worried about is how many pairs of eyes are on her when she sees Jack for the first time since his surgery.

The platform she's standing on at the end of the show goes down under the stages once she's done thanking the crowd, her band, her dancers, and her backup singers. She scrambles off of it before it stops moving and is off running to find Jack.

Her heels click as she runs under the stage. She's blinded by the stadium lights when she emerges backstage. Some of the crowd that can see her cheers for her when they see her. It happens at all of her shows. Her eyes scan the entire area before they land on Jack talking with younger brother Luke outside the tent that leads back into the stadium and the dressing room areas. She takes off sprinting.

Jack glances in her direction and smiles when he sees her. The crowd notices him and gets even louder when they realize who is waiting for her.

When she gets to him, she throws herself around him. Suddenly, it becomes just the two of them alone in the world. She buries her face in the crook of his neck and closes her eyes. Jack wraps his arms around her, one of his hands cradling the back of her neck.

"Told you I never break my pinky promises," Jack mumbles into her ear through her hair.

She pulls back and cups his jaw in her hands. Jack dries the tears that she didn't even know began to roll down her cheeks. "You're really here," she says, her voice shaky and hoarse from the show. "I can't believe you're really here."

He grins and nods. "I'm here, and I'd really like it if you would kiss me because I have been waiting months to kiss you," he tells her.

She captures his lips in a long kiss with no hesitation. The remaining crowd loses their minds above her and she smiles as Jack reciprocates the kiss. It's a kiss that's on the quicker side but it feels like an eternity.

"Are you ready for all this?" she questions, motioning around her as she asks the question. "You've always been watching behind the curtain but are you ready for all the eyes to be on you?"

"It's not much different than the eyes I already have on me," he admits. "I already have a ton of eyes on me so yes, I'm ready to share this entire life with you. Now that I've seen you on stage, I don't think I'll be able to stop watching you. You looked stunning up there."

The biggest grin forms on her face. "I missed you, Jack," she tells him. "So much."

"You're not going months without seeing me again," he promises. "I'll make sure of it."

And she believes every single word.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[pretty-circa006]

I guess your bio clearly states you write for Negan, but it doesn't explicitly state you write only for Negan. So I'm thinking I should just ask. Are you open to writing a dadsbsf!Rick and dadsbsf!Negan x reader fic, they have a rivalry and are always trying to one up eachother to get in the readers good graces, but little do they know you already want them (both) and you get them (both). Ik this isn't something you normally write and it's totally fine with multiple partners. But you're clearly a great writer and I just had to ask. It's totally fine you don't take this request or even ignore it. But if you were to write could do something with an age gap and a minx reader and mean Rick and Negan but only during steamy, but otherwise they sprinkle their lives on you.(Maybe this could be series or something it doesn't have to be oneshot and you could your time exploring the idea, idk why I'm so passionate about this lol)

Thanks, for hearing me out, believe me ik this a tall order. Again it's totally fine if you ignore this!!!

P.s idk why I added the photos I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭(them trying to mark their territory trying to make the other back off of you???)

dadsbsf! Negan x F! Reader x dadsbsf! Rick

summary Negan and Rick are over at your house, joining your dad for a game of poker. tags gambling, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is college aged and Rick and Negan are kinda old...like late 40s early 50s?)

wc 2.3k

note i really liked this request and i hope i interpreted it correctly, if not, i sincerely apologize! just fyi, i plan on making this multiple parts, which is why there's no smut....YET! :P

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

She loves summer. It's more so what comes with it, rather than the season itself. Being back home from college and finally having her own space in her own room and her own bathroom with her own shower. Most of all, she loves the late nights in her backyard, swimming in the pool beneath the bright stars, cicadas buzzing and crickets chirping in the background. 

Tonight's one of those nights. The dark, starry, cloudless sky accompanies her she floats on her back around the pool, enjoying the peace of the summer night. All she's missing is a nice midnight snack. The warm, humid nighttime air feels good against her wet skin as she climbs out the pool. She forgot to bring a towel with her when she came out earlier, but that doesn't matter since she's getting right back in anyway. Barefoot, she saunters across the soft grass to the sliding glass door that leads into her house. 

"Honey, where's your towel? You're dripping all over the floor," her dad complains as soon as she steps inside. Feeling the freezing air conditioning on her wet body also has her wishing she brought a towel. 

"Sorry, I forgot, but I..." She trails off, finally noticing that her dad isn't alone and that he's at the dining room table with his best friends, Rick and Negan, in the middle of a game of poker. 

"Hi, Rick...Negan," she awkwardly greets, folding her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling naked in front of the two. 

"I'll be right back, gonna go grab her a towel," her dad explains, excusing himself from the table. 

"Late night swim?" Negan teases while shamelessly eyeing the freezing girl's half-naked body. Her face grows hot as she feels his hazel eyes undressing what little clothing she has on. 

"Why don' you join us for a game?" Rick suggests with a pat to the seat beside him. 

"But I dunno how to play." Despite this, she takes the seat anyway. Rick pulls the chair closer to him until he can't anymore. 

"I'ma teach ya how." This earns a scoff from Negan. 

"Doll, you don't want this fuckin' prick teachin' ya how to play poker." 

"This comin' from the idiot who lost five hundred dollars last time we played," Rick fires back. Negan rolls his eyes and flips him the bird. 

She bursts into a fit of giggles at their rivalry. "I think I'll stick with Rick. I don't have much money to lose." 

Her dad finally comes back into the room, towel in hand. He tosses it at her and it lands over her head like a ghost costume. 

"Hey!" she huffs as she fixes the towel properly around her shoulders. Her father just huffs a laugh at her plight. 

"Rick's gonna teach me how to play poker," she tells her dad excitedly. He grimaces which earns a snicker from Negan. 

"If ya want any chance at winnin', you'll have your ol' man to teach ya, but hey," he raises his hands in mock surrender before taking his seat. 

“I’m stickin' with Rick.” Rick gives her a soft smile and places his large hand on her thigh. Shivers run down her spine, and she’s sure it’s not from the air conditioning. 

“You can jus’ watch this game and we’ll deal you into the next.” She nods in agreement and leans over Rick’s shoulder to look at his cards -a three of clubs and a three of spades-, ignoring the water droplets dripping from her hair onto his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind either. She has no idea what’s going on since she joined in mid-game, but by the looks of everyone’s faces…she still can’t tell what’s going. Her father’s face is blank and Negan’s has an air of mischief to it, but then again, it almost always does. Rick looks calm as his eyes move from his cards to the three that lie in the table’s center. 

“Wha’s goin’ on?” She whispers in his ear. He leans down to her level and explains to her that the three cards in the middle are the flop and that things are looking good for him. She nods and leans closer to get a better look. The three men all slide more chips into pile. Negan reveals another card next to the three, which Rick informs her is called the turn. They bet again and Negan reveals one last card - the river, Rick tells her- before they all reveal their hands. 

“Two pair,” her dad dejectedly reveals. 

“Three of a kind,” comes Negan’s reveal. 

“Full house,” Rick calls out smugly as he takes the pile of chips

“See, I knew Rick was gonna win!” She cheers, causing the two other men to groan in annoyance. Rick squeezes her thigh, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Negan who’s glaring daggers at the blue eyed man. 

“You playin’ this round, hon?” Her dad asks, shuffling the cards. She happily agrees and deals her in. 

“Ya sure ya wanna stick with Rick? He was just fuckin’ lucky last round,” Negan bargains. 

“Lucky and four hundred dollars richer! I’m stickin’ by him.” Rick flashes Negan the smuggest look ever before wrapping his arm around her, pulling her closer. 

“Got my good luck charm right here.” 

“See if you get so lucky this time ‘round,” her dad challenges as he deals out two cards to each player. She looks at her cards, still not fully sure on how to play. She slides in a chip alongside everyone else, which Rick explains is the ante. Her dad reveals the flop and she looks from it to her own cards, not knowing what plays she has, if any. She glances over at Rick who’s immersed in his own cards. 

“Rick, what do I do?” She whispers. 

“C’mere, I’ll help ya out,” he offers with a pat to his lap. She climbs onto his lap from her own chair, leaving her towel behind. Her dad doesn’t bat an eye. Rick is one of his best friends, basically a brother to him, and in turn like family. At least that’s the way he sees it, like a simple loving action between good family friends. 

But Rick can hardly focus on either of their cards. Having her on his lap is distracting. Her plush ass sits directly on top of his crotch and he can feel himself getting hard as she shifts around to get comfortable. If she can feel it too, she doesn’t move away or say anything. He rests his chin on her shoulder as he looks at her cards -an eight of diamonds and an eight of hearts- his beard prickling against her soft skin. 

“See that eight of spades on the table, you’re close to havin’ a four of a kind,” he whispers. 

“Is that good?” 

“Very.” Nobody’s looking, so he presses a quick kiss to her shoulder. She stifles a giggle at the ticklish sensation of his beard against her skin. They all bet again and the next card is revealed. She shifts around excitedly once she sees another eight on the table.

“Keep still, sweetheart,” Rick warns, growing harder in his pants. She doesn’t say anything, but Rick can see her shoulders shake with more stifled laughter. Everyone places another bet before the river is revealed and they all show their hands. 

“Full house,” Negan says as he reveals his cards. 

“Flush,” her dad reveals. 

“Two pair,” Rick shows his hand. 

“Four of a kind,” she apprehensively says, showing her own hand. 

“Maybe she is some kinda goddamn good luck charm,” Negan grunts. 

“Did I win?” She asks, noticing the proud but somehow simultaneously disappointed faces around the table. 

“You did, sweetheart, good job!” Rick says, hugging her from his position behind her. She gets up and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to his lips before skipping into the kitchen. 

“That was fun, but I’ma head back to the pool now.” Negan watches her struggle to reach a snack in one of the cabinets. She jumps a few times, her ass jiggling a bit each time she lands. He stands up and joins her in the kitchen, watching her pathetically try a few more times before standing behind her and effortlessly grabbing the bag of chips. He even opens it  before handing them to her. 

“T-thanks,” she says turning to face him and taking the bag. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire as she stares up at him. He’s standing so close to her, basically pinning her against the counter. His tongue glides across his bottom lip as he hungrily eyes her up and down, eyes lingering on her tits that her bikini top could hardly contain. 

“You’re welcome.” She doesn’t know what to say or even if she should say anything. Her eyes wander down to his strong arms that are folded across his chest, his tattoos on full display. She bites her lip when her eyes graze over the slight bulge in his pants. She can’t tell if he’s hard or just big, but either way she desperately needs to take a dip in the pool to cool the heat building up inside of her. 

“I’m gonna go back out now, bye!” She slips away from him and hurries out to the backyard before jumping into the pool. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

She had about thirty minutes alone until she hears the sliding glass door open. Out comes Rick in nothing but his swimming trunks and a beer in hand. He doesn't seem to see her as he makes his way to the hot tub. He gets in, letting out a sigh of relief as he feels the hot water relaxing his muscles. He rests his arms around the ledge and tilts his head back, relaxing and the sight is delicious. She climbs out the pool and carefully steps into the hot water beside Rick. 

"Hey darlin'," Rick greets once she's sitting beside him. 

"What're you still doin' here? Isn't it past midnight?" she asks. 

"Me 'n Negan wanted the hot tub for a bit, but your old man's done for the night." 

"Oh. Okay." She's looking at Rick in a way he can't decipher. Her eyes hungrily trail across his body as she scoots closer and suddenly, she's in Rick's lap like before. 

"I can still sit here, right?" 

"Of course," he reassures, his hands resting on her thighs, fidgeting with the waistband of her bikini bottoms. He rests his chin on her shoulder, just relaxing and enjoying the feeling of her against him. 

The sliding glass door opens again, a jarring interruption to their peace. She flinches, scared one of her parents were about to come out and see her and Rick in a compromising position, but Rick, seeing that it's only Negan, holds her tighter. He joins them in the hot tub with a beer in hand and cigar between his lips. In nothing but his swim trunks, his hairy chest and tattoos are on full display, taking all of her attention away from Rick. If looks could kill, Negan would have murdered Rick with his hazel colored death glare. The tension in the hot tub is so thick, it's almost suffocating. Negan being there somehow makes her feel guilty for being so close to Rick, but leaving his lap isn't something she wants to do either.

"Hey, Negan," she says in a weak attempt to relieve the tension and kill the awkward silence. 

"Hey doll," he takes a drag from the cigar before blowing out the smoke, "congrats on winnin' your very first poker game." 

"Thanks...couldn'ta done it without Rick, really." She subconsciously leans further into Rick and he presses a few scratchy kisses to her shoulder and the back of her neck. Negan rolls his eyes at both her and Rick. 

"C'mere," he commands with a come hither motion. She swallows nervously, looking from man to man. Rick can feel that she wants to get up so he unravels his arms from her waist so she can, which she does, albeit apprehensively. Even though he didn't tell her to, she sits on Negan's lap, her cunt right atop his growing boner, the only barriers between them being his swim trunks and her bikini bottoms. His beard tickles the side of her face as he leans down to whisper in her ear.

Rick watches the two with an intense gaze, almost as if he was daring Negan to try something with his girl. Negan's arms are around her now as he whispers something in her ear. Rick is sure he's just talking shit  but jealousy still twinges in his chest. 

"Anything that asshole thinks he can teach ya, I can do it better," Negan whispers. Rick sees her giggling and she turns her head to whisper something back to him. 

"Yeah? Then why'd ya lose both games earlier?" she teases. He lets out a laugh which catches Rick's attention. His blue eyes glare daggers at Negan who only spares him a smug glance. 

"Didn't wanna embarrass poor Rick over here by beating his ass in front of ya," he says loud enough for Rick to hear. His voice returns to a whisper. "As for the other game...you just got pretty damn lucky." 

"Mmhmm sure," she replies sarcastically with an eye roll. She stands up and wades her way to the hot tub's stairs. 

"G'nite y'all," she wishes them as she exits the tub. 

"Goin' to bed already? Night's just started?" Negan complains, already missing having her on his lap. 

"It's almost three in the mornin'," Rick comments looking at his watch. "Night, sweetheart!" 

"See you both at the barbecue tomorrow!" She blows them both a kiss before skipping off toward the house. She can feel their gazes boring into her, particularly her ass as she does so. 

[bluberryfields]

This is what happens when you're raised by TV and trained in literary analysis

Beyond the crushing heartbreak of that finale, one thing in particular has stuck with me when I look at it in the context of S2 as a whole.

He lays out their relationship, "We're a team, a group. A group of the two of us. And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't."

He then turns his head away and says, "I mean, the last few years, not really."

He pauses here, facing the interior of the bookshop. Really looks it up and down.

Turns back, "And I would like to spend" before choking on his words and looks toward the window. He can't finish saying something like "And I would like to spend eternity with you" because that's too much, too fast, for both of them.

But it's that "last few years" bit that has firmly lodged itself in my very broken brain.

According to Gaiman, it's been "a few years" since the end of Season 1. Armageddon has been averted. Heaven and Hell have reluctantly retreated. Crowley and Aziraphale have been effectively cut loose from their "sides," leaving them to form their own side.

So at the start of Season 2, we get a glimpse of the “fragile existence” they have carved out for themselves. To me, the biggest difference that we see is how they exist together in front of others. Going to the coffee shop, the pub, and the other shops along the street that Aziraphale has lived on for over 200 years. And don’t forget how they act in front of Nina, Maggie, and sweet, dim Muriel.

At the coffee shop, Aziraphale stammers a bit when Nina asks who Crowley is, but he still seems to have affection in his voice when he says, "We go back a long time."

Compared to Shakespearian "He's not my friend! We've never met before. We don't know each other!" panic, this is an incredible difference.

Of course, each time, Crowley is cool and cheeky and does nothing to indicate that they aren't a pair. Though, of course, he does deny it when Nina asks about Aziraphale being his side piece. “He’s not my bit on the side! He’s far too pure of heart to be anyone’s bit on the side.” And refers to him as an “Angel [swallows]I know.”

When they go the pub, Crowley's joy at doing something together in public that they do not normally do is super cute, including his cheeky order for Aziraphale's sherry. Then, when bringing the drinks over to the socially trapped Aziraphale, he greets Mr. Brown with a truly adorable, "Hello" and a signature DT smile. Then upon hearing how “excited” Mr. Fell is to host the meeting, he looks down and says, “Oh? You astonish me.” while Aziraphale sips his sherry and squirms.

We also watch as Crowley follows Aziraphale as he goes to each shop and talks to the owners about the meeting/secret ball. In theory, Crowley has no reason to tag along, and he certainly doesn’t help sway anyone who doesn’t want to/can’t go. He goofs around at the magic shop. He splays out on the bench, chin on hand, looking for all the world a husband waiting for his wife to pick out a dress at the department store. They are so married it’s ridiculous.

Finally, their behavior in front of Muriel while inside their sanctuary. Crowley sits on the arm of Aziraphale’s chair, somehow looking supremely comfortable on the old-fashioned furniture. He folds up those gloriously long limbs and presses himself as close as possible.

He smiles and plays along with Aziraphale’s coaching of Muriel in her disguise. Calls him Angel and asks to speak in private. And at the end, during the awful wait while Aziraphale talks with The Metatron, Crowley cleans up the shop and tells Muriel that he and Aziraphale will need some “us” time after all this. No beating around the bush. 

Without oversight, they can be openly together and happy. But Heaven just can’t let that happen. 

[nutluvs]

not sure if your requests are still open but I'd devour your take on how rdr characters would react to you giving them a hot lunch while they are hunting. Like they are sitting at the top of the hill with a hunting bow in their hands and you sneak up to them, handing them a hot meal prepared for them.

preferred characters are javier, sean and kieran but you can add your favourites as well, I will gladly read your take on that about any character! :)

also don't feel pressured if you don't feel like writing it! much love anyways, have a nice day :))

- 🦎

hot n' ready 🍰 various rdr2 characters x gn! reader

!! divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more ♡ !! hi sweetheart ! i hope you're doing amazing today ! ♡ this is my favorite request i've gotten in ages ! it's so cute. thank you so much for sending it in. ♡ i'm so so sorry it took me so long to write, i've had like.. 0 motivation to write lately, and this is just to get back into it. i'm also very sorry if this sucks and if i didn't portray any of your favorites right, i'm only really used to writing a few characters. synopsis:bringing your dearest some good lunch you made just for him while he's out hunting. pairings (in order): ♡ charles smith ♡ arthur morgan ♡ javier escuella ♡ eagle flies ♡ sean macguire ♡ kieran duffy ♡ john marston ♡ the boy warnings: none, this is just fluff !! mentions: @pursuedbyamemoryy @deaddoedonoteat

charles smith:

he didn't expect it. at all.

although, that doesn't mean he didn't appreciate it.

when you crept up to him, his focus was entirely on the doe, whose head was tipped down to nibble at the grass beneath her hooves.

as soon as you prodded at him with the tip of your finger, he jolted and made a discontented, uncomfortable sound.

he was quick to whip around to see who it was, gripping his bow a little tighter, but when he realized it was you he visibly relaxed almost instantly.

he greets you and asks you what you have in your hands, disregarding the doe immediately. you were more important.

"a warm lunch, just for you. i know pearson's meals aren't so satisfying to eat, especially since they lack seasoning and any variation, so i made something of my own. i also made myself something, that way, we could have some lunch together.

when you say that, he feels his face go warm.

he has to clear his throat before attempting to tell you that you didn't have to do this for him and that he didn't want to be a waste of time, but you were quicker, promising him that he deserved a break from low quality food and that he deserved something nice.

so, now understanding you were absolutely sure, he takes his warm lunch from your hands with a smile, and you eat together underneath the shade of a tree, sharing conversation and warm, loving smiles.

arthur morgan:

he was a bit frustrated.

he had tried to get his hands on this damn buck for so long, but every time he'd try and shoot, the thing would get spooked off by quickly passersby.

so now, here he was, sat atop a hill, grumbling to himself about how irritating the prey was, fidgeting with an arrow and trying to calm himself down.

he had heard hoofbeats on the grass and quickly turned to see who it was, and as soon as he saw your face, all of his anger was gone. he put the arrow he held down onto the grass with his bow, and watched you approach. he noticed you had something in your hands.

"hey, darlin'. what's that you got in your hands?" he asks, watching you sit down beside him with a bit of a smile present on your features.

"some lunch for you. made it myself." you say, smiling bigger. "i figured you'd like something that isn't as bad as pearson's cooking... so i made that something."

arthur was a bit shocked, taking it from your hands when you held it out to him. he looked from the box up to you, unsure. "i don't deserve this, darlin', it's.. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to."

this makes his face go red, because he wouldn't really figure someone would want to do something like this for him. but it made him happy, and he really enjoyed your cooking. who knew you were so good?

javier escuella:

he's more of a fishing guy, so that might make it a little harder for you to reach him, but that doesn't deter you.

he went down to the dakota river to do some fishing, and he asked you to tag along, but you initially said no. he was a little sad about that.

however, when he was in the middle of wrapping a smallmouth bass so he could return it to camp, you prodded at his shoulder, causing him to yelp and drop the fish.

you apologized quickly, but he was quick to put the apology down. he wasn't mad at you, he could never be. plus, he insisted he should've been more aware of his surroundings.

after that, you handed him the lunch you made.

"querida, what's this?" he asks, inspecting it closely, as if unsure. it wasn't like you'd give him something that'd kill him, so he stopped his looking.

"a lunch i made for you, since pearson's cooking tastes like shit."

"it has a few of the meals you told me your mother used to make you, and i wanted to sorta give you some sense of home. i hope my cooking is as good as hers, and that i captured the flavors right."

his heart warms, and he feels a bit of a hitch in his breath. you took the time out of your day to make him one of the dishes from home? oh, you were just the sweetest.

he holds the lunch carefully as he brings you into a hug and kisses your cheek, thanking you before quickly sitting down to enjoy what you picked to make him.

eagle flies:

today's hunt had been very successful, and he was proud of that.

he had managed to shoot down some rabbits, and he wanted to finish off a deer as well. he found it most refreshing when he did this.

when you came over the hill, he was poised to shoot, rough fingertips pulling back on the string of his bow.

you decided to stay quiet, watching him release the string and puncture the unaware doe's neck. you smiled when he released a pleased sigh, standing to go collect the arrow and the fresh kill.

"that was a good one," you say, spotting him turn and smile right back at you. "thank you." he replies. he'd known you were there, but he had already gotten the opportunity for a perfect shot, so he didn't greet you despite how bad he'd wanted to.

you watched him pluck the arrow from the carcass and hoist it over his shoulder, bringing it back to his horse before helping you down from yours.

"so, why'd you come?"

"made you something." you say, handing him a small box lunch. "you deserve a treat for all of the hard work you've been doing lately. i know it's the least i could do for such hard work, but i was in a rush."

eagle flies smiles at the gift, his heart fluttering. "thank you, my love. i appreciate this a lot. i've always liked your cooking." he says, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your temple, before sitting down to eat the meal you made specially for him.

sean macguire:

he didn't know why he came on this hunting trip. hunting irked him.

he wasn't even all that good at focusing on the prey, let alone shoot it in a vital spot to kill it. he wouldn't admit that, nor the fact that he'd rather be doing something more entertaining.

he just about tossed away the bow, but you twined your arms around him in a hug and gazed up at him, a smile on your lips.

"hi honey." you say gently, "i brought you something to eat. hunting isn't your forte, and i know you like my cooking. maybe it'll calm you down."

sean stared at you for a moment, his expression flat before it grew a bit embarrassed, "i can hunt just fine!" he snapped, and you laughed. "i saw the anger in your face, honey, you hate it. here."

you pushed the box meal into his hands, and he wasn't going to deny this. as you said, he loved your cooking. he'd never say otherwise... even if he didn't like the flavor of something, he was the biggest fan of your meals and would eat up the whole plate.

he was quick to slump down underneath a tree with you, blabbering on about his day with you leaning against his shoulder. he didn't have any manners when eating, but that was fine. at least he was back to being happy.

kieran duffy:

he prefers being back at camp with the horses, let's just say that.

he didn't like the idea of hurting animals, preferring to take care of them. so, he purposefully made this a bad hunt.

he didn't even know why they asked him of all gang members to go out and hunt... although, he'd still try. he wanted them to trust him at least a little bit more. he wasn't just some o'driscoll..

he sat crouched behind a bush, expression a bit worried as he aimed the bow he borrowed at an unaware rabbit.

when he let go of the string, he jolted back, the squeaky, high-pitched sound from a pained bunny not meeting his ears. only the sound of panicked scuttling and the small thud of an arrow.

"oh..." he sighed, a bit displeased with himself. although, he sorta preferred that he didn't kill something so innocent.

"kieran?"

the sound of your voice caused him to jolt once again, and he looked up at you. "o-oh, hey, darlin'.. um, i uh.."

"i see you haven't caught yourself anything."

"nope.." he mumbled, gaze straying elsewhere. he listened to your soft laughter as you sat down beside him. "that's okay," you promised, earning his eyes on you again, "don't worry. i'll catch something later. anyway, i brought you something."

when you handed him a box, he felt the warmth seep into his palms. he looked at it, then at you. "what's this?"

"some lunch. i made it specially for you, you deserve a break from all that harassment they give you. even though it's not much, i thought you might like it."

kieran blushed at this, putting the box on his lap and managing a small-voiced "thank you."

you made him feel so dizzy, so stupid in love. but he liked that. he liked it a lot.

john marston:

he was pretty self confident in today's hunt.

he'd managed a few kills, a deer and some birds. nothing too big. but he was still pretty proud. and with this confidence, he felt he'd be good with another kill.

however, as soon as he plucked an arrow to shoot with, he noticed you coming up the hill. he was quick to smile all dumb, shoving his bow and arrow away.

when you came over the hill, you halted your horse, looking to him as he made his way over to you and pulled you from your horse.

you noticed quickly that he was in a good mood, as he began to swing you around when you were in his arms. "there's my angel! how are you doing?" he asks, nuzzling you as he sat you down, listening to your giggles.

"great! i don't think i have to ask you how you are..." you tease, before stepping slightly back from him. "made you a little something, by the way.

this caught his attention, and he raised a brow, "what's that?" "made you a lunch, with your favorites." you said as you handed him the lunch. "i figured you'd like it. you've told me about two million times that my cooking's your favorite." holy shit, was this day going good. john was through the roof now.

john grinned like the idiot he was and took the box from you. "thanks, my angel. always did like your cooking, you do it real good. i always wonder who taught you." he admits, wrapping you up in his arms again, careful not to spill what he has in his hands. you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw, "i try, and i'm glad my hard work is met with a good product."

"mmmhm. now, wanna sit down and share?"

the boy:

he wasn't usually the type to hunt.

however, today, he went out hunting, and it wasn't going so good. he ended up pouting on the forest floor, leaning against a tree.

"honey?" you call out, which distracts him from his moping. he looks like he lightened up a bit, but not as much as you hoped. you sighed when he looked back to his hands.

"not much of a result, huh, love?" you ask, dismounting your horse and approaching him. you squatted down beside him, putting a hand on his cheek and tipping his head up. he grunted a "no."

"huntin's stupid. i'm the best 'round here, but these damn animals.." he huffed. you only smiled softly, leaning in close to him and pressing a kiss to his temple. "will this cheer you up?" you ask, putting a small box in his hands.

he looked at you, confused, blue eyes searching your face and waiting for an explanation.

"it's lunch i made for you. i know you're not the biggest fan of hunting, so i decided i'd make you a lunch to cheer you up... and before you ask if there's any watermelon, yes, i put watermelon in it."

he grinned dumbly, his face growing warm and dusting with a rosy color, leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the nose. "thanks, i always did like your cooking... makes me feel better 'bout this."

"oh, i know. you're blushing all silly."

"i ain't!"

here's this! i hope this suffices for my first post in 8 centuries. i hope you enjoyed, have a nice day! love you guys ♡♡♡♡

[nemesyaaa]

Seven days // Zach mclaren x female!reader

Summary ; After an injury from soccer, Zach is forced by his doctor to rest his feets at home which leads him to order food. It was just supposed to be one night, but it was before seeing how pretty you are. And this is how you end up meeting him almost every night on your shift because he couldn't stop himself from ordering just to see you on his door . The food is great but he's now looking for another taste...

Warnings : None. it's purely romcom coded with all the fluff plotline and the cheesy lines filled because i needed this <3 (the delivery trope is so much underrated.)

Author's note : This is dedicated to @nadvs because we belong in the same zach fanclub. but also it's for all the zach's girlies. ✨‼️

There was no one who loved winter more than you. you were always the first to look forward to this season of the year. From the month of November, you waited at your bedroom window for the first snowflakes, the first white trees, the first mist on the window, the first icy breath on the snowfall. You couldn't wait for the city to be immersed in the Christmas spirit with all the decorations in the streets, the lightened places, the warm outfits to alleviate the chattered teeth and the frozen hands stuck on the pocket. The sunny sky above the roofs of the houses completely covered in snow, the sidewalks buried under the ice, and the snow was so pretty to contemplate in the parks, northern lights and the winter landscapes.

You were definitely a winter girl. that night like all the others where you were not with your nose buried in your books or on the screen of your phone scrolling all your tiktok fyp, you were working as a delivery girl in a chinese restaurant a few meters away from your home. The old couple who ran the house had agreed to take you in, even without any professional experience, and you had always been grateful to them. They were friendly people with immigrant backgrounds like you. You bonded easily, and you were a bit like their granddaughter. It was crazy how the clash of cultures could bring people together.

Because you had been lazing around in your bed for too long, you had to take a fast shower, and leave the apartment quickly. you hadn't even been able to put on a coat as you were already heading to your workplace. the only thing you had time to do was get into the frosty december mood with an eternal classic of your playlist music in your ears called “Last Christmas” by Wham.

you didn't like being late, because it made it seem like you didn't take your job seriously even though it was currently one of the things that mattered the most to you. you had good bosses, nice colleagues and in addition to your salary, you received generous tips. you may not have been rich but life offered you countless things to make you happy.

the only thing she had never given you before was a boyfriend. you'd like to say you weren't desperate about it but you were already in your late twenties and had no experience. it shouldn't be shameful to be single and a virgin but you were starting to believe that you would never find the right person. However, you had crushes but you were just good at accumulating them, not collecting them.

a woman should think more about her studies than about guys. and you agreed, but it was terribly frustrating to see the whole world pairing up when you had never kissed anyone, or even discovered what true love was. it was completely ridiculous.

you pushed the door of the restaurant, your entrance punctuated by a shrill sound of a bell. you greeted your work colleagues, put on your outfit and apologized to the bosses. you were ready to return to service.

“I don't mind if you're late here, but don't be late for the customer " the grandmother behind the counter gently scolded you, with a compassionate smile on her face.

“There is no faster or more reliable delivery person than me. I remind you that I have five stars on the site.”

“think you can beat me?” Spencer, one of your work colleagues, had challenged you.

“i already did. but thanks you, you’re adorable but keep going, I love seeing you believe in your dreams.”

you giggled before grabbing the bag of food. when you looked up at the address, your eyes widened.

“ what's the matter ? ” he asked because of the sudden look in your face. “ Something's wrong ? ”

“ it's just…i already delivered this guy almost everyday this week…i'm just kinda surprised, you know ? ”

“ you doubt the quality of my food ? ” questioned your boss with a fake offended tone.

“ no, lady su. nobody makes better food as you in this town but isn't-it strange ? ”

"maybe it's not about the food that he orders so much." had simply commented on the grandfather who passed by with a steaming tray of delicious dumplings with a plate of Peking duck.

you rolled your eyes, not believing a word he had just said. but he replied with a wink. sometimes you wondered if they weren't your real grandparents.

you left the restaurant before starting your motorcycle. on the way, you began to regret not having brought a jacket or scarves because you were starting to shiver. the cold was terrible with the wind which literally felt like a blizzard. your body felt colder against the temperature and you had been sneezed on several times. your ears were icy, and you were sure your bones were frozen. at least your fingers were.

you parked in front of the building. you rang the bell for him to open the building door for you before going up the stairs.

you knew the place by heart now that you came there every day. even though you tried not to think about it, it gave you a strange feeling knowing that he ordered at the restaurant every day. it was quite curious. you recognized that the food was incredibly good, but so much so that he wanted to eat it every day?

no way.

impossible.

you weren't complaining about having such a good client, it was very cool but you had to ask yourself questions. you barely had time to knock on the door when it opened, as if he had pathetically and desperately waited behind until you arrived.

“hey” his voice was always so friendly, so eager to greet you.

“hey” you replied with the same intonation, before handing over the bag of food.

Usually, you never bothered to take a closer look at your customers. you delivered and left but this time, you couldn't help but observe him from the third time you came. he must have been the same age as you. he was easily taller than you, his size forcing him to look down on your frame. he had intensely blue eyes, even brighter in the light of the hall.

and you could tell by his athletic shape that he had a sports career at his college. but judging by the way he grimaced when he walked, it was on break. you could tell that he had recently had a problem with his foot. you didn't need to have studied medicine to know that.

even if he wanted to hide it from you, you could hardly ignore that he was in pain.

as he picked up his bag, you sneezed. three times in a minutes. you tried to appear completely normal but it would have been hard for him to act like he hadn’t heard anything.

“i’m s-sorry.” you apologized. “ i'm fine. ”

“don’t tell me you deliver in those clothes ? ”

"it's okay. it's not about the co..." you sneezed.

“what did you say already?” he mocked you softly. “hold on. can you wait just a second?”

“w..."

you couldn't finish your sentence as he already had his back turned to you. you sighed slightly. you couldn’t lie about how terribly cold you were. you were shaking, and your cheeks were frozen.

when he returned, he was holding a jacket in his hand.

“I can’t accept it, I’m sorry.” you politely refused.

“I’m not going to let you go without it.”

“It’s embarrassing. and it’s not mine.”

he placed the jacket on your shoulders, ignoring your words. “now it’s yours. ”

“ you're too kind. I’ll give it back to you after my shift.” you replied, thanking him.

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

"Are you sure? I don't want to take advantage of your kindness."

“you’re better like that…” he hesitated for a long time before answering. “It looks good on you, better than it does on me.”

“then I should keep it.” you joked.

your little moment was interrupted by the vibration of your phone. it was spencer. you smiled, and replied “sorry, I have to go.”

you came home around two in the morning, the night had been long but warmer with your client's jacket on your back. you felt so good in it that when you got home, you kept it on for a few more minutes. the garment carried his scent, it was soft and surprisingly light as a perfume.

the next night he ordered again. you had left home early so as not to be late for work. he ordered at the same time every day, and he was very conscientious about this detail. so he was always your first customer of the day.

you had picked up the food, and walked over to his house in a fuzzy coat and matching boots. you had opted for something warmer, and you were carrying three bags in your hands. Chinese food, coat and apple shortbread with an aromatic touch of cinnamon and spices. you had spent your free time cooking instead of studying in order to thank him for kindly lending you his coat because it had saved you.

you followed the recipe from a culinary influencer that you followed on Instagram. you hoped that would have an effect on him.

you rang the doorbell. and the moment he opened the door, you were about to greet him with your charming delivery girl voice, but the words stuck wildly in your throat. you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm.

you were by no means shy, but he had literally managed to shove all of your self-confidence down your soul with his half-naked appearance. a hot steam hovered his tonic body and a white towel loosened his sculpted hips.

his chest was hot and wet as if he had just come out of a sauna. you wanted to look away but how were you supposed to ignore the size of his biceps when he rubbed his hair, the shaking movements of his arm making splash some beads of water. how were you supposed to ignore the six-packs exposed under your eyes. this body was just full of sins and you were about to lose your job if you heard your thoughts.

you gulped loudly, before finally being able to speak your mind. “ hey ! here’s your jacket. and i… ”

his smile was huge and in a way so warm. but mostly, it was his gaze. the way his eyes were fixed on your face, and your opened lips to catch every word of your mouth killed you. you tried to avoid his piercing stare but you couldn't escape it.

“ i made you some shortbread. i just hope you like cinnamon and apples. ”

“ you really made this for me ? ” he asked, like he couldn't believe it himself.

“ it's my way to show you how thankful i am. ”

“ seems like you've got a lot for me today. ”

“ "It's nothing. And you're a loyal customer. It's very nice to order from us every day. My bosses appreciate it."

“my name is zach.” he replied, holding out his hand to you.

“y/n.”

“I should have known you had a pretty name.”

you smiled before giving him all the bags. he returned a few seconds later with the tip. and your eyes widened at the amount.

“ wow... that's nice but i don't think I deserve that much money. "

“ you don't want my money ? ” he teased you softly, a little smile curving his lips. “ what can I offer you that would please you ? ”

“ you don't need to. just stay safe, okay ? ”

“ it comes from the girl who makes deliveries on cold winter days without a jacket. ”

“ i was stupid, it doesn't count. and I was late to my job, I didn't think too much. but now can you see ? i've got a superb coat. ”

he stared at you longer than he should. obviously, you were pretty. you were coming back from a long drive in the wind. you still had snowflakes in your hair, the tip of your nose was damp from the cold, your lips were slightly chapped and your breathing was foggy. you also wore an earmuff on your head which made your hair sag.

but you still looked so beautiful to him. his eyes were sparkling under the lights of the hall of his apartment.

“ would you mind if i ask you why you are ordering everyday ? i mean yea the food is really great and i'm happy that you're enjoying it truly. but it can't possibly be this awesome ? and deliveries cost some money at the end of the day, so is it…just about the food already ? ”

you know it was a risk to ask something like that but you couldn't hold yourself to hide this thought. you kept coming back everyday to his place, it was kinda your right to want to know. and also, he was not forced to answer you. you were anxious and afraid because you didn't want to seem bothered by him. you started to play with your fingers, slowly biting nervously your lower lip.

a little chuckle came from his mouth, before answering your thoughts. “ you've got me. ”

“ you think i'm dumb, zach ? ” you lighty joked to relieve the tension.

“ oh no. i know you're smarter than me, ma’am. ”

“ it's not true. you're just obvious. ”

“ but the food is really good. ” he defended himself by pulling out of the bag the box of noodles. “ want a bite ? ”

“ i'm working. ” you said.

“ actually, you're talking to me. ” he corrected.

how silly.

“ to be honest, i need to go back to work. my bosses will not be happy if i took too much time with a client. ”

“ then let's see each other without you being the delivery girl and me being the client. ”

“ i don't think it's professional. ”

“ think the way you stared at me when i opened the door was professional too ? ”

“ you know what you were doing. ” you mumbled in your throat.

“ and you're just mad because it worked. admit it, pretty. ”

you rolled your eyes and he laughed. “ it's not like you've got the body of an old man. ”

“ i'm a soccer player so i need to stay in good shape. i'm working out every day. ”

“ oh i totally suck at this game. ” you admitted.

“ you just need to learn. ” he answered. “ because, i promise, it's easy for a sport. ”

“ i don't know if i can trust you when i look at your foot…it doesn't look better since i come here…”

you didn't realize what you had just said until you caught his intense and piercing blue gaze on you. you looked away and he responded.

you had observed him. and you had just exposed it.

“It’s just an accident. It's nothing serious. I just have to be careful for a month but then I can start playing soccer and matches again. "

“you have to really love it to want to pick it up after an accident.”

“I don’t really have a choice.”

you would have loved to finish this conversation and even chat a little more with him but the clock was ticking and you had other clients.

"Okay. We can see each other again as normal people."

you wrote your number on a piece of paper before greeting him. you felt a little sorry for cutting him off in such a serious moment like this but you didn't have time anymore.

you couldn't afford to lose your job. you needed it. you were a student and you didn't really have the choice of working if you wanted to enjoy life, which was quite ironic.

When you got home, you had your phone on. zach sent you a message.

zach mclaren: hey

zach mclaren: your shortbreads were perfect

you: maybe i should start a business :)

(you boost my ego. thank you.)

zach mclaren: you know how to boost my ego too when you stare at me for so long

you: i was just checking that you don't get cold...

zach mclaren: you're not good at lying

zach mclaren: it's a compliment

you: i'm going to sleep.

zach mclaren: are you working tomorrow? i would love to see you

you: you're lucky. it's my day off.

it had already been half an hour since you said you were going to sleep but you continued to text zach. you would probably regret it tomorrow when you were half asleep in class but for now, you were responding to all his texts every second.

after your day of classes, you came home to change. you were meeting zach at the christmas market in a few minutes and you wanted to look presentable. you had arrived early for the meeting for fear of being too late, you hoped not to seem desperate or in too much of a hurry. when you saw his silhouette in the crowd, you smiled.

he was walking towards you, his hands in his pockets, and his lips were twisted into an adorable smile that was only addressed to you.

It was so warm in places like that but it was even better when you had someone by your side. you would think he was your boyfriend but he wasn't. you were still sadly single in winter.

“did you find something you like? " he asked.

“i was waiting for you.”

“ did you wait a long time ? ” he was now worried, but you reassured him.

“ also last time you said that you didn't have the choice to continue soccer…and i was wondering why ? i mean, there are a lot of alternatives. ”

“ i'm just…good at it ? i always focused on soccer since i'm a kid, and i've got no other skills or passions so i can't really give up. ”

“ there is no other things that you're good at except that ? i don't believe you. yes, i don't know you but you can't tell me you're only skilled at just shooting your feet in a ball. ”

“ i really need to show you what soccer is. ” he chuckled out loud, looking at you're confused look.

“ what do you do when you're at home ? you're just watching TV ? don't you read ? ”

“ it's boring to read. ”

you tried not to wince at his comment but your mouth was pursed slightly. “Have you ever tried to at least read some?”

you chatted while walking through the aisles filled with small traders. there was everything: jewelry, food, scented candles, soaps and body care, clothes and scarves, local products and a lot of other things.

“ i want to look at the scarves. maybe, i will find another one to add to my collection. ”

he nodded. honestly, all your desires were orders. he couldn’t say no to your sparkling eyes.

he followed you to the stand run by a lady behind her counter. she was quick to greet you as if you were her first customers of the day.

you grabbed the white scarf before wrapping it around your neck in front of the mirror. the wool was so soft.

you turned around to ask zach’s opinion but he was already looking at you. all his attention was fixed on you.

“it looks very pretty on you. you should pick that one. “

you didn't need to look in the mirror again because his gaze was terribly convincing.

White was certainly an ordinary color but with the tone of your skin, it was the ideal layering. the glow of your features was what made this scarf look so good, and what made you so attractive. Zach was literally watching you with stars in his eyes, trying so hard to not exposing his feelings but you were just so pretty with that accessory and your smile was literally taking his breath away. “ very pretty ” he whispered before towering with his height, using his hands to adjust the scarf around your neck.

His touch was so gentle, cold because of the snow that fell from the sky and gave your bones little shivers. You slowly met his gaze as his face was across yours, his fingers still wrapped around the fabric of the accessory.

Your mouth was agape, filled with tiny breathing that was tickling the space between you and him. You felt every snowflakes on your hair, your face getting colder with time.

When he took a step back, you looked away quickly.

“ i'm gonna take it then ! ”

“ you should. ”

when you were about to take out your wallet, he had already taken out his card to pay.

“You’re lucky to have a boyfriend like that. ” the lady commented.

“ he's n…” for some reason you didn’t continue your sentence.

you had just continued on your way to turn towards a food stand.

"you shouldn't have paid. I'll reimburse you..."

“I know but I wanted to do it. ”

"ok, then let me buy you something in return. why not a smoothie? athletes like that, right? it's fruity, it has vitamins. it's nutritious. let me find the perfect taste for you. ”

zach was lucky that you couldn't read his thoughts because he was gonna explode. hearing you talking about his health like that, turning yourself into a little nutritionist was something irreal for him. you were like a dream.

you were smart, gentle, soft and calm. you didn't need anything more to make him under your spell. just the way you were was enough. he was not the type to be difficult in regards to love, he could fall in love so easily with anyone. but the way you were, all the beauty that came from your brain, your physic, your gesture, your mind.

“ think you can do that without knowing every single thing about me ? ”

“ i know that you play soccer. ”

“ and ? ”

“ yea, you're kinda right. we don't know each other. but this is why we are here together in that marketplace. you're gonna talk to me about your life, the things you love, that make you happy and i will just be here, listening to you and realize that you're in fact a sweet boy. ”

“ only sweet ? i'm sure i'm more than sweet. ”

you ordered a smoothie and gave it to him, waiting to know what his thoughts on the state. he catched the straw with his mouth, and started to drink a little of the juice.

“ pretty good. ”

“ i'm glad. there are strawberries, bananas and spinach in it. i know it's the end of the day, but when you start your morning, it's a good and rich combo. ”

“ do you want to taste it ? ”

“ can i ? ”

“ you're lucky. i'm happy to share. ”

“ oh zach, you're too good. ”

“ i can ask for another str…”

“ it's okay. ”

he handed you the juice, and at the moment, you didn't care about the way your lips literally shared around the straw. you were just focused on how good your taste was. it was delicious.

you and zach continued to walk under the snow.

you shouldn't do it but unconsciously you noticed the little attention of the athlete. like the way he held you closer to prevent you from bump into people, the way he delicately readjusted your scarf so it wouldn't fall off, the way he slowed down when he felt like he was walking too fast for you, the way he went where your gaze went, looking at you so often to make sure that you were okay.

he was also a very attentive person. he loved hearing you talk, as he enjoyed listening to you. you were so interesting that he felt terribly boring next to you. you always had something to say, anecdotes, facts, stories. you could convince him to open a book more often with your words.

you had a way of being simply attractive.

when it started to get late, he walked you home. you talked about absolutely everything about cinema, music, sports, activities. you had never had so much fun. and it felt good.

you had even listened to music on the way home. you shared a pair of headphones that connected to your phone while remaining next to each other.

you had arrived at the door of your house, and a long minute had passed.

“thanks for today, zach. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a great day in my entire life.”

“then we should do this again. i mean if you're okay. ”

"Would you invite me again? It would be a pleasure. We could go to the cinema, or to.."

“whatever you want. i just like to be with you honestly. ”

you smiled. and his lightened gaze already catched your smile, while you wisely kept your hands in your pockets.

“ Oh, I almost forget.” you replied, giving him back the jacket he had lent you earlier. “ this is yours. ”

“you can keep it.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“And I can’t get it back either.”

“zach!”

"I'm serious. I'd rather see it on you than on me…”

he moved closer, leaning just above you. you had started to feel chills throughout your body, like squirming in your stomach. the proximity was so close that you were frozen. when you thought he was going to kiss you because he was leaning over your face, staring at you with light in his eyes, he simply blew on the tip of your nose. you shivered before feeling a slight rush of moisture on your face. a snowflake.

for some reason, you were kinda disappointed.

his mouth was so close to yours that you kinda expected it, his features were over yours, his lips were so close that you could feel his warm breathing against yours, and his nose was literally brushing your skin. the way it was so cold outside but every time he stood near you, the temperature rose again. it felt like he was enough to warm you up.

you didn't realize that you closed your eyes because of the sudden magic you felt inside your tummy. it was so strange. when you fixed your gaze on him again, he was two feets away from you and you chuckled softly. “ you scared me. ” you admitted. “ don't do that again. ”

“ i just protecting you from getting cold again. ”

“ you're worrying too much about me. don't forget yourself. ”

“ i can't help it. ”

"i-i need to go, okay. thanks you so much for today.”

“ text me when you're home. i mean in your room. ”

“ i'm literally there. ”

“ i just want to be sure. ”

“ okay. ”

you had been thinking about this day for the past two days. it occupied all your thoughts. you had returned to work, you had become a simple delivery person again.

you made your deliveries and then went home. the routine was the same except for one detail. zach had stopped ordering. now you were friends.

today, you suggested to Zach that you meet at the mall. It was quite cold outside due to the winter wind and snow so it was better to stay warm. you hadn't waited long before seeing him in the middle of the crowd. you were starting to get used to his presence in your life, and it was crazy how much space he could take up so quickly.

“wow, you really came fast.”

“I couldn’t keep you waiting. I'm a gentleman. ”

“I’m not that special you know.”

“I think you are. ”

“ I think you should stop saying things that make me want to fall in love with you. ”

“ Why ? Is it bad ? I'm a good guy. ”

“ Being too good is suspicious. ”

“ Fair point. ”

“ Anyways, does your feets hurt ? I've always ask you for things that make you walk so I feel sorry. ”

“ Don't worry, it's starting to get better. ” in fact, Zach was really surprised that you care about it. you cared about him more than he thought.

“ Really ? I'm glad. ”

you had followed the athlete to the video game store, a place that was extremely foreign to you but it was perfect. you wanted to know so much more about his world because since you knew him, you had the impression of only talking about yourself, of being the only one to open up.

“I bet you’re lost.” He scoffed, watching you glance around. “ You look like a puppy. ”

"I'm getting acquainted with your world. Be nice, will you?"

“I should teach you how to play.”

“ Oh yeah, teach me how to kick your ass. ”

" So this is your only motivation. ” he laughed, taking place next to you.

“ you know, i already play some games. not your type of game but…”

“ which one ? ”

“ just dance. ” you replied proudly. “ and i'm pretty good at it so don't even start to mock me. . ”

“ i believe you. but you know, you need to show me those dance skills one day. ”

“ don't say it twice. out of subject, why are we here ? you want to buy something ? ”

“ yea for my little sister. she loves to play video games like me, and it's Christmas soon so I want to buy her a new game. ”

“ oh so you're a big brother ? that's why you're so good with girls. ”

“ i thought i already told you. “

“ no, because i would remember it. what's her name ? ”

“ avery. i think you would like her. ”

“ i would like to meet her. ”

you kept talking while seeking a present for his little sister. when you find a game, he buyed it before the two of you walk to the bookstore. it was his time to get lost, and your time to shine.

“ so, this is your heaven ? ” he asked, still staring at you.

“ isn't it the most pretty place in the world ? i would buy everything here if i was rich but unfortunately i'm forced to choose only a few books. ”

“ you can read online. ” Zach suggested.

“ i know but this is not the same. i want to feel the paper. and i need to have the book in my room, to add it to my collection. ”

“ so you want to be an author later or something like that ? ”

“ oh no, reading is just a hobby. i learn a lot by reading. i can't believe you don't like it, or maybe you just didn't find the perfect book. let me find you one. ”

“ you really took that seriously. ”

“ this is why you shouldn't joke with me. so now, you're forced to read. ”

The Bluest Eye By Toni Morrison.

“ I've read this one when i was younger and it's beautiful. I think it's one of my favorites ever written. ”

“ I'm sure you've got great tastes. ”

one day, the grandmother who was your boss stopped you while you were going on deliveries.

“are you okay?”

“yes. why?”

“you know that guy you were talking about last time. he doesn’t order from us anymore. is he sick?”

" oh so that's it. don't worry. he just got what he wanted. " you replied with a wink.

A month had passed, and his feet were already feeling much better. he was going to return to university, and especially soccer.

zach mclaren : i've finished the book

you : how do you feel ?

zach McLaren : miserable

zach McLaren : but it was worth it

you : i felt the same the first time

you : but congrats, you read a book !

you : i'm feeling proud

zach mclaren : now, it's my turn

zach McLaren : come over

you : i need to study

zach mclaren : this is why you're texting me right now ?

you : i will be there in few minutes

you left your house after a quick shower to spend the rest of the day with him.

before returning to classes, he invited you to his house.

It was crazy knowing this building by heart even though you didn't live there.

he opened the door for you and you couldn’t help but joke. “ shit, you're dressed this time. ”

“ and i still make you look. ”

“ one point for yot. i've got the food. my bosses are generous and wanted to make the food for tonight. ”

“ i'm starting to be the favorite. ”

“ in your dreams. ”

you entered the apartment.

it was big enough for a student. you wondered how rich he was sometimes. you had started setting the table with all the chinese food, and he had brought the drinks. he had even prepared cakes for dessert.

you decided to watch a movie.

“what do you want to watch? ” he asked.

“ the princess and the frog. i'm in the mood to lurk at Prince Naveen. Isn't he the best prince ? ”

“ I thought i was. ”

“ So, i'm your Tiana. ” you joked. “ You would love me if I turned into a frog, Zach McLaren ? ”

“ Yea. And you will still be the best and the most beautiful person i've ever known. ”

“ I can't believe a man like you is single. ”

“ I can't believe you're single too. You're pretty, you're smart, you're talen…”

“ continue and i will think that you're in love with me. ”

“ does it matter ? ”

you looked at him, turning your gaze in his eyes.

maybe it was obvious from the start. all these commands, the way he looked at you, the way he absolutely wanted to spend time with you, the way he was constantly trying to talk to you. it wasn't just friendship, this affection was stronger, more intense. he wanted more than to be your friend.

what was less so for you was when all these attentions began to charm you. when was the moment, he made a house inside your mind and made you think of him so often.

“ Zach. ”

“ You're important to me. I love everything about you. I thought i was good by staying your friend but i want more with you. ”

“ It's so funny…I was just that delivery girl who came to your place and now, we're just here together…i mean, i'm just surprised…i'm just surprised because your words make me feel so attractive and important. i Always thought that i would end up alone and you just came into my life, made it brighter and now you're confessing your feelings about how you love me just because i was myself. ”

you were too sensitive, and zach took your hand in his, gently stroking your skin with his thumb, before you lost your gaze in the blue fierce of his eyes. “ hey, hey. look at me…”

“ when you seek love all your life and you suddenly feel loved, it's just so warm. you make everything so much better… ”

your words were shutted by his mouth, his lips moved into yours crushing them in a passionate kiss, as he pulled you closer with his hand on your cheek. you were exploding, making yourself a way on his lips, letting his free hand slowly down your body to catch your hips. he stroked them softly, his fingers dancing under the fabric of your t-shirt. you were on top of him, controlling the kiss with your tongue, and biting his lower lips with your teeths. you were pleased by the sounds of his moans under your breath. he was deliciously hot, and you shushed him with your fingers against the wet stream of his lips, forcing him to keep his mouth shut.

“ maybe, it's better to do it slowly because we are just confessing our feelings to each other. we shouldn't burn any step. it's okay for you ?”

“ i think you're right. it's better if we're taking time to make things right. ”

“ sounds like we're understanding each other well. ”

“ i really want to take my time with you, and we're not in a hurry. ”

“ i appreciate you for this. you're my first boyfriend you know and what i mean by that is that i'm…very happy that's you. i don't care that i'm not your first girlfriend because I feel really loved and it's all that matters. ”

[honeyhoshi]

hat trick!

the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.

summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 5,616

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)

author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.

Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.

This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.

Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.

Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.

The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.

Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.

Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.

“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.

There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.

It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.

Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.

Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.

Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.

“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.

Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.

The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”

“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.

Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”

You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”

He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.

When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.

“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”

Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.

He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.

On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.

With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.

He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.

Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.

So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—

“Daddyyyyyyyy!”

Fuck there it is.

Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.

He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.

Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.

Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.

He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.

He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.

You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself. 

So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.

“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.

“Huh?” comes your confused response.

“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.

You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.

But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.

You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.

“Just a little—“

He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”

“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.

“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”

“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.

He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.

Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.

You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.

But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay. 

You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.

His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.

“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”

Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.

You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”

You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head. 

“Words, princess. I need words.”

You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you. 

Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”

He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.

Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy. 

It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.

“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.

But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.

When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.

“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”

“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.

You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.

It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.

“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”

All you can do is huff. He’s right.

You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.

It’s your underwear.

“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace

“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”

He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.

“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”

After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.

You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.

“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.

The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.

You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”

You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.

“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.

Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”

And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.

You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.

Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does. 

At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.

“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”

You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.

Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.

The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.

Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal. 

But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.

Hat trick.

Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.

Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.

The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.

This all falls down to their captain.

Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown. 

The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.

The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.

Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.

The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear. 

You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.

You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.

God, you needed to suck his cock. 

Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.

That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.

“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.

You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.

Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.

He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.

There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.

“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.

“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs. 

He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”

Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.

He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.

You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.

“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”

The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.

You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”

Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.

He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth. 

Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.

“Atta girl.”

You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.

“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?

“Mm,” is your petulant response.

“Listen to me,” he warns.

But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.

“Don’ wanna.”

From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.

“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.

“He did.”

“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”

You start to flush, “He did.”

“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”

He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

“He did,” you answer.

He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”

You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.

“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”

There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.

“Of course, daddy.”

It starts with your good intentions, really.

You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.

You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.

To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.

You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.

You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”

“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.

You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.

The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.

But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.

Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.

“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”

And he breaks at that.

He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.

The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.

He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.

Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.

He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.

But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.

“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”

You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily. 

Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.

With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.

“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.

He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.

What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.

He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.

Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.

He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.

After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles. 

Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!

[milla-frenchy]

October

2k3 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: autumn is here, and you always loved that season. This year, you will probably love it even more Warnings: none, fluff. Meet cute, soft!Javi, book lovers, cats, alt POVs. No age specified.

a/n: this is written for @jolapeno & @goodwithcheese 's fall challenge. I ordered Peña’s Pumpkin Latte and A fall walk 🎃🍂🍁

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing and everything, as always 💕🫶 dividers @steddiecameraroll-graphics 🙏

Autumn has always been your favorite season. The cooler temperatures, cardigans, blankets on the couch. The thicker socks. You loved staying in and watching the leaves fall from your couch. Drinking coffee or hot chocolate, your cat on your lap.

You also loved going to bookstores or cafes, walking on the fallen leaves on the ground. Listening to their crunch under your feet. The streets painted in a mix of red, orange, brown colors were beautiful. The first rains didn't even bother you.

That Saturday, you took your notebag and the book you were currently reading and headed to one of your favorite places. To get a coffee sprinkled with chocolate powder, and to eat some of those ghost-shaped cookies that the owner cooked every year, from October to November. You finished your book there and decided to get a new one, so you walked to your usual bookstore. The one where the owner's cat sleeps on the books. He's beautiful, black and white. He lets you scratch his ears every time you go there, purring so hard that it always makes you smile.

It started to rain and you forgot your umbrella, so while waiting for the rain to stop, you picked three books from the shelves, and sat down in one of the armchairs to choose one of them. You turned the pages and the smell of old paper rose up to your nostrils. You loved that scent.

“Good choice,” you heard.

You turned your head towards the man who just spoke to you. Dark hair, mustache, black coat. He had two books in his hand. You'd never seen him there before.

“Your book,” he added to answer your questioning look, pointing at it. “It’s one of my favorites.”

His smile was warm, friendly. His eyes were a curious contrast of seriousness mixed with a twinkle.

“Oh, right, the book,” you replied, smiling. “Yeah, I’ve read great reviews about it. I just finished my last one and I am looking for a new one.”

“It's bittersweet, a little sad but very beautiful. If you're not afraid of a rollercoaster of emotions, it's perfect.”

“Well, I’m gonna follow your advice and buy it. Thank you…?” 

“Javi,” he responded, smiling again.

“Thank you, Javi,” you replied, and told him your name. “The rain has stopped, I’m gonna go. Have a good day!”

“Thanks, you too.”

You paid for the book and left quickly, seeing that new threatening clouds were approaching.

On Sunday, you walked to the park near your house. The weather was way better that day, the sky all blue. You sat on a bench sheltered by hedges that had grown well since last spring, put a blanket you brought on your knees and began reading  your book. 

You started it the night before, and you were glad you followed the advice of that man, Javi. The book suited your tastes perfectly. 

You stayed in the park until it started to get a little chilly, the blanket not enough to keep you warm, then you gathered your things and left. 

On your way back home, a curious black kitten approached you. Its fur was a bright contrast to the orange leaves on the ground.

“What are you doing here all alone, kitty?” you asked him, crouched and scratched his chin. He rubbed against your legs, purring, then left as quickly as he‘d arrived.

As you got up, you saw Javi on the other sidewalk and waved at him.

“Hi!” he greeted you, walking towards you. “You enjoyed some quiet time in the park?” he asked, pointing at your blanket.

“Yeah, I wanted to enjoy the nice weather. I go to the park every Sunday afternoon when I can. I started to read the book!” you added.

“Oh great! What do you think?”

“I really love it so far. Thank you for the recommendation.”

He smiled at you. He was cute. And handsome.

You smiled at him too. And for a few seconds you were just smiling at each other. Those slightly silly smiles that you share when you meet someone and want to know them better.

“I was going to have a coffee, do you wanna come?” he finally asked you, breaking the silence.

“Sure.”

You had never usually had coffee with strangers, but you felt like you already knew him a little. As if the fact that you had the similar tastes in books had helped you to take the leap.

He told you he always drank black coffee, but wanted to try something new, so he ordered a pumpkin spice latte. You laughed when you saw him wrinkle his nose after tasting it.

“I’m gonna stick with my usual,” he chuckled.

You spent the afternoon there, talking about whatever you could think of. Your jobs, your families, your lives, your hobbies. He had moved into the neighborhood a couple weeks ago and didn't know anyone there.

You parted ways, saying “see you soon”.

The following Saturday, you hoped to run into him. At the bookstore or at the café. Or in the neighborhood. You didn't see him and you were a little sad about it. You had often thought about him during the week.

On Sunday, you went to the park. It was a beautiful autumn day. To your pleasant surprise, Javi was waiting for you. With pastries and two coffees.

“Too creepy?” he asked with a cute, almost shy smile, as you stopped surprised in front of him.

“No… too cute,” you grinned, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He was dressed in black. Coat, sweater, pants. He was really handsome. You couldn't believe he was waiting for you there, that he remembered what you said about loving to come there every Sunday afternoon.

You drank your coffees and ate the pastries, sitting on the bench, your blanket on both of you.

He told you he bought furniture the day before, that he finished putting it together late at night. As if he was trying to explain why you didn't see each other yesterday.

“I'm glad to see you today,” you told him.

“Me too.” He looked at you, his eyes landing briefly on your lips. Smiling shyly afterwards, as if to apologize.

You saw each other for the next three weeks, every Saturday and Sunday. Doing fall walks to the cafe, bookstore, park. Every day of the week, you looked forward to the weekend. Aware that you were slowly falling in love with Javi, even if you didn't show it. You weren’t sure if he had feelings for you.

One day, you didn’t know what pushed you to do it, but you couldn't resist and you kissed him under your umbrella. He had just caressed your cheek, and his eyes were the only thing you were able to see. As if everything else had disappeared. 

He kissed you back, his lips pressing against yours, his soft mustache against your skin. You didn't talk about it, didn't want to. You just loved being with him and everything had been perfect so far.

He was always calm, reassuring and didn't rush you. You liked that he didn't feel compelled to fill in the blanks in your conversations.

“Did you see that the café is closed for renovations next Saturday?” he asked at the park, that last Sunday.

“Yes…” you looked down at your feet. You didn’t want to spend a Saturday without seeing him, so you gathered some courage. “Would you like to come and have coffee at my place?”

“I’d love to,” he added quickly, as if he was relieved to know you wanted to see him too.

You gave him your address, and added, “it's the last house on the right. The one with the pumpkins, electric garlands and candles in the living room window.”

He smiled and said “see you Saturday, Hermosa,” before leaving.

Javi wasn’t expecting to meet anyone with whom everything seemed so easy. Not so fast, not so smooth. That Saturday at the bookstore, he saw you a few seconds after the bell on the door rang, announcing an entrance. Always used to analyze every situation, every noise around him. He had done nothing but that for decades. Some habits were hard to break.

You went straight to the cat sleeping on the books, awake as soon as you had lulled him with your soft words “hey kitty, how's your day going? You're such a good boy, always taking care of those books. You love their smell, don’t you? I love it too.” 

He heard the cat purring from where he was. Javi wasn't a cat person, he preferred dogs, but found it rather cute, that loud purring sound.

He had thought back to Puff, Steve and Connie's cat. Fucking sicarios.

His years at the DEA would haunt him for years, probably for his entire life, he knew it. He had tried to work on his father's ranch, but everything reminded him of the DEA. His childhood, his teenage bedroom. The discussions with his parents about his desire to join the agency. Lorraine. He wondered what he had missed, even though he did not regret his years in Columbia. He had done the best he could.

He had thought that maybe he would recover faster if he left Laredo. If there were fewer people who spoke Spanish around him. He needed a change of life, so he had moved to the other side of the country.

And then you arrived in his life, kind of. 

When he saw you, holding his favorite book in your hands, his heart skipped a beat. There were two other books on your lap, but you were looking at his favorite. He didn’t hesitate long before coming up to talk to you. As if that book was some kind of a sign that he had to meet you.

On Sunday, he saw you sitting on a bench in the park, immersed in the book. He didn't want to disturb you, so he waited for you to leave and came to meet you while you were crouching next to a cat in the street. You really were a cat person.

The smile you gave him reached his heart a little too fast. As if you were a constant in his new life. Already. 

It could seem silly, he didn't know you. But he didn't really remember what a normal life was, either. With no drugs, no guns, no threats, no deaths. You were none of that. Maybe that was the reason why he never felt the urge to be grumpy or sassy around you.

The following Saturday he went to buy the last pieces of furniture he was missing in his apartment. He started to assemble them, without realizing how much time was passing. Until he saw that night had almost fallen. He ran to the café, to the bookstore, to the park, but he didn't see you. It was too late.

He cursed between his teeth, and hoped to meet you the next day. Yes, the next day, if the weather was nice, he would go to the park.

He smiled when he woke up the next morning, seeing the blue sky. He waited for the afternoon, then bought two coffees and some pastries. Hoping that you would be there.

You greeted him with a big, beautiful smile when you saw him. Thanking him for what he had brought. And damn, you had a charming smile.

Then, you saw each other every weekend, all October. Each week passed too slowly for his liking, while each moment in your presence passed at the speed of light.

One Saturday, in that café, he didn’t even realize that he had rested his head on his hand, turned towards you, and that he was drinking in your words. You were so close. It made you smile shily. He wondered if you were as enamored as he was. 

But he didn't want to move too fast, didn't really want to know if you were. It had been a long time since he had spent such moments with a woman. Someone who wasn't related to his job. Since high school, probably?

He didn’t want to know, but when you came out of the cafe and it started to rain, you opened your umbrella and offered him a cover rom the rain under it. Your eyes plunged into his, and he couldn’t resist the urge to brush your cheek covered in a few drops of water with his thumb. Your eyes slid from his eyes to his lips, and you bit yours. He didn’t move, not wanting to break the moment. Not wanting to go too fast. But he let you get closer to him, until your lips landed on his, offering the softest kiss he had ever received. He felt his cock throb, tightened in his pants. It was happening to him more and more when he was with you, but he didn't want to think about it. He wanted to put his arm around your shoulders to protect you from the cold, but he didn't dare. 

Though, he couldn't help himself from resting his hand on the small of your back, brushing it over your coat. He felt you getting closer to him and you walked without speaking. The silence wasn't awkward at all, and he loved that.

That last Sunday, when you offered him to have coffee at your place, he didn’t hesitate for long. He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to take his time anymore.

He knocked on your door and when you opened it, he held out a book.

“This is my second favorite, if you want to give it a try,” he said. As if he was not really talking about giving a try to that book, but to him.

You smiled, pulled him by the collar towards you and kissed him.

He definitely didn’t want to take his time anymore, and apparently neither did you.

Javi p masterlist

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[save-mohamed-family]

Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:

@ibtisams @soon-palestine @sar-soor @90-ghost @fairuzfan @ibtisams @fallahifag @northgazaupdates

I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, my wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, living with our little cat that we embrace among us.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .

Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.

My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.

My main goal with this donation is to protect my children, my wife, and our scaredy cat and evacuate them to a safe place away from the ongoing wars. The funds will be used to cross the Egyptian border and bring basic needs and treatments to create a more stable conditions for my family. Approximately $18,000 will be allocated for travel expenses, and around $6,000 for securing suitable housing for a couple of months.

As for the medical treatment costs, the exact figure will be determined after undergoing examinations in hospitals in the Arab Republic of Egypt & it gonna be in average $8,000. The remaining amount ($8,000) will be used to establish a small project to sustain our daily living, enabling me to provide for my children and wife.

Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.

My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.

Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?

Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.

If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!

"I urgently appeal to you for moral and financial assistance to cover the necessary costs to escape to a safe environment, where we can build a secure future for our children and ensure the safety of our family. We thank you for your concern and support, and we hope that you can help us in these difficult circumstances."

Sincere greetings & thanks

Mohammed & the family