#Question: if you gave zip a zipper what would happen?

[julietsf1]

Best Day Ever - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: Oscar's win and Franco's first points have to be celebrated. With her best friend Lando playing matchmaker and the tension between Y/N and Franco simmering, the night promises to be anything but ordinary. Sparks fly on the dance floor, but is Y/N ready to admit what’s really going on?

Warnings: Questionable fashion choices from Charles, Jealous Franco

A N - okay so I never write but I couldn't help myself. another one lol. I adore this man, I really hope he'll get a seat next year:)

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I slipped into Lando’s hotel room, dodging the chaos of clothes strewn everywhere and the blast of upbeat music. As expected, the room was a disaster—a tornado of outfits scattered around, and Lando stood in front of the mirror with two shirts, looking deeply conflicted.

“You’re taking this way too seriously,” I teased, dropping my bag on the bed and watching him as he inspected each shirt like it was a life-or-death decision.

Lando turned, giving me a dramatic sigh. “You don’t get it, darling. As tonight’s DJ, I need to look the part. No one’s gonna take me seriously behind the decks if I look like shit.”

I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yes, because that’s exactly why people come to the club... for your shirt.”

He dramatically held up the two options for me to judge. “So? Bright white to make my tan pop? Or black for mysterious, sexy DJ vibes?”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I pulled out my dress. “The real question is, how long until you spill something on it?” I shot back with a grin.

Lando grinned right back at me, tossing the white shirt aside. “Good point. But now, your turn. What are we working with tonight, Y/N?”

I unzipped my bag and pulled out the stunning red dress I’d been waiting to wear. It was the kind of dress that would turn heads the second I walked into the club. Lando’s eyes widened dramatically when he saw it.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, stepping closer to inspect the dress as if it were a priceless artifact. “What’s the occasion? Trying to murder Franco tonight or what? Because if I were him, I’d be dead on the spot.”

Rolling my eyes, I ignored the blush creeping up my cheeks. “It’s not for him. I just like looking good. Is that a crime?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Lando said, smirking. “But let’s be frank. Or should I say ‘frank-o’? Get it?”

I rolled my eyes again, groaning at his pun. Classic Lando.

Lando sighed dramatically at my lack of enthusiasm but pressed on. “Anyway, you’ve been on Franco’s mind all weekend. The way he’s been sneaking glances at you? Totally adorable.”

I slipped behind the dressing screen to change. “Franco sneaks glances at every girl. It’s his thing.”

“Ah, but here’s the kicker,” Lando leaned against the screen like he was sharing the world’s best-kept secret. “You’re the only one who acts like you don’t care. He finds it irresistible.”

I emerged from behind the screen, giving Lando a look. “I’m not here for his ego trip. I’m here to celebrate Oscar’s win. Now help me zip up, please.”

Lando smirked, walking over to help with the zipper. His fingers brushed lightly against my back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure. That’s why you wore that dress. Totally not because of Franco.”

“Do you ever shut up?” I teased, adjusting the straps of my dress as I looked in the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was more confident than I felt. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, making me feel bold despite the nerves bubbling in my chest.

Lando chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his black shirt and pulled it over his head. “Just trying to help. You’ve got something going on with Franco, and I—your devilishly handsome sidekick—am here to make sure it happens.”

“There’s nothing going on,” I insisted, straightening the hem of my dress. “It’s just banter.”

Lando gave me a playful wink. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But tonight, when he sees you in that dress, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Man’s going to be speechless.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re in denial,” he shot back. “Now, let’s get going. The club’s not going to know what hit it.”

I grabbed my purse, shaking my head with a smile as we headed for the door. No matter how much Lando teased, there was something about his playful energy that always put me at ease. He knew how to turn any situation into a joke, and even if I wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, the thought of Franco seeing me tonight had me feeling a little more excited than I should’ve been.

“Ready to knock ‘em dead?” Lando asked as we reached the elevator.

I smirked. “Let’s dance, baby.”

Lando grinned, pressing the button for the lobby. 

.

The second we stepped into the club, I could feel the shift in energy. The bass was pounding through the floor, neon lights flickering in rhythm with the music, and a sea of people already swaying to the beat. It was one of those nights where you could tell things were only going to get wilder as the hours passed.

Lando, naturally, was beaming as he led us toward our reserved table, his usual confidence on full display. “This is going to be legendary,” he grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “You ready to make some memories?”

I smirked, adjusting the strap of my dress. “If by memories, you mean watching you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor, then absolutely.”

Lando wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Just wait until I start playing some tracks. You won’t know what hit you.”

As we approached the table, George was already making himself comfortable, adjusting his collar like the proper gentleman he always tried to be, while Alex slid in beside him, looking equally ready to unwind after the weekend.

“This place,” George mused, his eyes scanning the scene, “positively buzzes. I might even have to loosen a few buttons tonight, fellas.”

Alex laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh no, George Russell, loosing up? What is the world coming to?”

Before George could respond with one of his comebacks, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Max, Daniel, and Charles—each of them making an entrance like they owned the place. Max, already sipping on a gin tonic, had that relaxed grin he only ever showed when he was off-track, while Daniel was bouncing with energy as usual, ready to bring chaos. Charles, however, had topped them all, not only wearing his patchwork pants, but also sporting a pair of ridiculous neon pink sunglasses that instantly made me burst out laughing.

Lando, seeing Charles in all his glory, was quick to point out the obvious. “Alright, who let Charles dress himself? Where is Alexandra when we need her?”

Charles just grinned, pushing the sunglasses further up his nose. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Norris.”

Daniel, never one to miss a beat, clapped me on the back as he slid into the booth next to me. “Looking hot tonight, Y/N. I’m pretty sure jaws will drop.”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush. “It’s just a dress, Daniel. Let’s focus on the real star of the night—Oscar.”

Oscar, ever the quiet one, gave me a sheepish smile from across the table. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lando interjected, throwing an arm around Oscar. “You’re the man of the hour! We’re celebrating you tonight, mate. And Franco when he shows up of course.”

Max, already in full party mode, flagged down a waiter with a confident wave. “Gin tonics all around—and something stronger for Oscar. What do you say?”

Oscar chuckled awkwardly as Daniel threw an arm around his shoulders, laughing. “Yeah, mate. Time to get wild.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as Max and Daniel continued to heap praise on Oscar, who was clearly not loving being the center of attention.

“He needs more than one drink for that,” I said, leaning back with a grin. “Oscar’s more the ‘quiet observer’ type.”

“That’s exactly what makes it more fun,” Lando added, his grin widening. “He’s like a ticking time bomb. You never know when he’s going to blow.”

Just then, the drinks arrived. Daniel raised his glass, holding it high for the group. “To my favorite fellow Aussie,” he declared, causing Oscar to smile awkwardly as Daniel continued, “And to a night we’re definitely not going to remember.”

“Cheers!” we all echoed, clinking glasses.

Max wasted no time, clapping Oscar on the back. “No sitting tonight, mate. Come on, time to dance.”

Oscar looked wide-eyed for a moment before Max and Daniel each grabbed one of his arms, dragging him onto the dance floor. He glanced back at us with a look that screamed help me.

I laughed as I watched Oscar get pulled into the chaos. “Well, there goes Oscar.”

Lando grinned, leaning in closer. “You know what Oscar needs to loosen up?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh no, not this again...”

“Tequila.” Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Come on, we’ve got shots to retrieve.”

Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar, dodging people along the way. It was like Lando had some sort of radar for causing trouble, and tonight, tequila was at the center of his plans.

We reached the bar, and with a few charming words from Lando, the bartender handed over a full tray of tequila shots.

“Think this is enough?” I asked, eyeing the tray suspiciously.

Lando gave me a mock-serious look. “Not even close.”

As we carried the tray back to the table, I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of our friends still tearing up the dance floor. Max and Daniel were already locked in some sort of ridiculous dance battle, while Charles, still sporting his horrible sunglasses, was swaying with his gin tonic in hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Oscar’s going to die out there,” I chuckled, shaking my head.

“Not if the tequila kicks in first,” Lando smirked, placing the tray down on the table.

Just as we settled back at the booth, the door to the club swung open once more, and in walked Carlos and Franco. Carlos, as always, looked effortlessly sexy, his dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to make every girl in the club swoon. But Franco? My heart skipped a beat when I saw him—his eyes immediately locking onto mine with that intense, playful glint that I was starting to recognize all too well.

He looked different tonight—glowing from the inside out, like the weight of proving himself had finally been lifted. The victory of his first points in F1 suited him. His confidence was always there, but now it had this newfound depth that made it impossible not to notice him.

Lando, ever the instigator, nudged me under the table, trying to hide his grin. “Look at your man, glowing,” he whispered with an exaggerated wink.

“Shut it,” I muttered, though my pulse had quickened at the sight of Franco.

As they made their way over, the group welcomed them with cheers and raised glasses. Carlos slid into the booth beside George, while Franco took the seat across from me, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re late,” I teased, lifting my shot glass in his direction.

Franco grinned, his gaze flickering from the glass to my dress and back to my eyes. “Fashionably late, of course. You know how it is.”

“Always with an excuse,” I shot back, though I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Franco leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for me to hear. “Maybe I just wanted to make an entrance. Catch someone’s attention.”

Under the table, Lando kicked me again, even more subtly this time, though his grin was anything but subtle. I shot him a look, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” I said, keeping my tone light as I shook my head at Franco. “Nice try, though.”

Franco chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

Lando’s face lit up, his grin widening as he picked up one of the tequila shots. “Before we do anything else, we need to make a toast.”

Alex, George, and I exchanged glances as Lando raised his shot glass high, his voice carrying over the thumping music. “To Franco, for getting his first F1 points!” he declared, eyes twinkling with excitement. “He’s officially no longer just a pretty face—he can drive, too!”

Everyone laughed, Franco shaking his head with a mock roll of his eyes, but there was no denying the pride shining in his green eyes. He raised his glass, meeting Lando’s playful grin. “Thanks, mate,” he said with a smirk, his voice carrying that familiar flirty edge as he glanced over at me. “It’s about time I caught up.”

“To Franco!” Lando repeated, and the group joined in the chorus, clinking glasses before throwing back the shots.

The tequila burned, but it wasn’t just the alcohol that made my pulse race—it was the way Franco’s eyes lingered on me

“So,” Franco began, his voice low and smooth, “do you always look this good when you go out? Or is this just for me?”

I raised an eyebrow, trying my best not to smile. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Lando too much. His cockiness is rubbing off.”

Franco chuckled softly, his eyes still fixed on mine. “Maybe. But I’m serious. You look… incredible.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You say that to every girl, Franco.”

His grin widened, leaning in just enough to make my heart race. “Not like this. And not to every girl.”

It was the way he said it—calm, confident, and undeniably sincere—that made me falter. There was no denying the effect his words had on me, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.

“Nice try,” I said, taking a sip of my drink, determined to stay unbothered. “But I’m not falling for it.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Who said I was trying anything? I’m just telling the truth.”

Carlos was still engrossed in conversation with Lando, leaving me to handle Franco on my own. Lando, however, didn’t miss the exchange, and I felt a not-so-subtle nudge from him under the table. “Told you,” he whispered, barely hiding his grin. “He’s got it bad.”

I shot Lando a look but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through me. Franco wasn’t making this easy.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from me.

Franco’s smile turned playful, his eyes never leaving mine. “Dance, maybe. If you’re up for it.”

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “In your dreams, maybe.”

“Trust me, cariño,” Franco said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine, “I’ve had plenty of those already.”

I swallowed, trying to keep my composure. Franco’s flirty nature wasn’t new, but tonight, it felt different—more direct, more intentional. And the Spanish- oh my days. 

Before things could escalate further, I decided to save myself. I stood abruptly, grabbing Lando’s arm. “I need to dance,” I announced, pulling him up with me. “Come on, Norris. Let’s go.”

Lando blinked in surprise but quickly recovered, flashing Franco a smug grin. “Later, Colapinto,” he called as I dragged him toward the dance floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back soon.”

Grabbing Lando’s arm, I dragged him out of the booth and into the center of the dance floor, determined to drown out the tension with music and laughter.

“Whoa, easy there!” Lando exclaimed with a grin as I pulled him into the mass of bodies. The bass was so strong I could feel it reverberate through the floor and into my chest. Neon lights flickered over the crowd, casting everyone in shades of blue, purple, and red.

“I need to dance!” I shouted over the music, spinning him around as the beat dropped. “Get your head in the game, Norris!”

Lando, always ready for a bit of fun, didn’t miss a beat. “You’re lucky I’m the best dance partner you could ask for!” he laughed, immediately pulling me into a ridiculous salsa move that made me burst into giggles. His over-the-top style was exactly what I needed to shake off Franco’s intense gaze.

We danced together in sync for a while, Lando’s antics drawing more laughter from me than I’d had all night. He was twirling, dipping, and making exaggerated poses with every beat, reminding me how effortlessly fun it could be to just let go.

“You’re a nightmare,” I teased, dodging one of his particularly dramatic moves as he spun me around.

“And you’re loving every second of it!” Lando grinned, completely unbothered by how ridiculous he looked.

For a few blissful minutes, I allowed myself to get lost in the music. The lights, the crowd, and Lando’s contagious energy made everything else fade into the background. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Franco.

Even with the mass of people between us, I could feel his eyes on me. I stole a glance toward the bar and, sure enough, there he was, standing with Carlos, Alex, and George, his eyes fixed on me like a magnet. The intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Stop staring,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head to push the thought away. But even as I laughed it off, I couldn’t deny the way my heart sped up when I caught Franco watching.

Lando twirled me again, pulling me close to shout over the music. “Franco hasn’t stopped looking at you all night!”

I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. “That’s just Franco being Franco. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Uh-huh, right.” Lando shot me a knowing grin. “Just with everyone? Come on, Y/N, you’re not fooling me.”

I groaned, pulling away slightly as we continued to dance. “Can we not talk about him right now? I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

“Sure, sure,” Lando laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “But you know he’s watching, right? Might as well give him a show.”

Before I could respond, Lando grabbed my hands and twirled me into a dramatic dip, making me squeal with laughter. It was ridiculous and playful, exactly the distraction I needed. But even as I danced, I couldn’t fully shake the sensation of Franco’s gaze burning into me.

Eventually, the heat of the dance floor got to me, and I pulled Lando off to the side, fanning myself as we made our way to the bar. “I need a drink,” I muttered, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead.

“Good call,” Lando agreed, still grinning like a madman. “But I’ve got a better idea—why don’t you get some fresh air. You look like you’re about to combust.”

I nodded, following him toward the exit. The night breeze hit me like a wave of relief, cool and refreshing against my flushed skin. I let out a long breath, leaning against the side of the building as I tried to shake off the lingering tension.

Just as I was starting to feel a bit more grounded, Oscar appeared from the shadows, looking surprisingly calm despite the chaos happening inside.

“Oscar?” I blinked, surprised to see him outside. “What are you doing out here?”

Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a small shrug, his usual smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Hiding of course. Max and Daniel are going way too hard in there.”

I chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I don’t blame you. It’s getting a bit crazy. I think I just saw Max crowdsurfing with Charles’s glasses on.”

We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the music still thumping faintly in the background. I leaned against the wall, tilting my head back to take in the stars above. It felt good to breathe, to have a moment of peace before heading back into the chaos.

But Oscar, always perceptive, wasn’t one to let things slide. “You alright?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with meaning.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, just… trying to clear my head.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Franco, would it?”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. “What? No. Why would it?”

Oscar gave me a knowing look, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, Y/N. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And the way you’ve been acting tonight…”

I crossed my arms defensively, trying to brush it off. “He’s just being his usual flirty self. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Oscar leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as well. “Doesn’t it?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in my throat. Oscar was too good at reading people, and he wasn’t letting me get away with pretending everything was fine.

He sighed, glancing toward the club entrance. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But it’s pretty clear there’s something there. You can’t ignore it forever.”

I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

Oscar offered a sympathetic smile, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Love always is a bit complicated, I think. But that doesn’t mean you should run away from it.”

We fell into silence again, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I wasn’t ready to confront whatever I was feeling, not yet. But Oscar’s insight had a way of sticking with me, whether I wanted it to or not.

After a few moments, Oscar pushed off the wall and gave me a small smile. “Come on, let’s head back inside. I think Lando’s getting ready to play.”

I nodded, following him back toward the entrance. The cool air had done little to calm my racing heart, and I knew I wasn’t ready to face Franco again. But there was no avoiding it. Not tonight.

As we stepped back into the club, the music hit me like a wave, and the energy inside was even more electric than before. Lando was at the DJ booth now, a massive grin on his face as he was preparing to take over the set. The dance floor was packed, and the flashing lights made everything feel surreal.

I spotted Franco near the bar, his eyes immediately locking onto mine as I walked back inside. He didn’t look away this time. Instead, he took a slow sip from his drink, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Oscar nudged me with his elbow, smirking. “Looks like you’ve got some unfinished business.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the sight of Franco watching me. “Let’s just dance,” I muttered, pulling Oscar onto the dance floor.

“Y/N! Oscar! Get over here! We were starting to think you’d run off!” Carlos shouted over the music, motioning me toward him.

Without thinking, I grabbed Oscar’s hand and pulled him toward the group. The music, the lights, and the laughter of my friends wrapped around me, easing the tension built up in me earlier. Oscar, clearly reluctant, laughed softly as I spun him around in the middle of the dance floor. His awkward moves were no match for my playful swaying, but it made the moment even funnier.

“You’re a terrible dancer,” I teased him, grinning from ear to ear.

“I never claimed to be a pro,” Oscar quipped, barely able to keep up. His shy smile only made me laugh harder.

Carlos was quick to join in, pulling me away from Oscar as he swayed confidently to the rhythm. The crowd around us blurred, and soon, it was just the familiar faces of my friends. Carlos twirled me once before leaning in playfully.

“Careful, Y/N,” he teased, “I might steal you away from everyone tonight.”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “As if! You could try, though.”

Behind me, I could feel the heat of Franco’s gaze burning into the back of my neck. His eyes never left me. Every time Carlos spun me or made me laugh, I could sense Franco’s attention shifting, the tension in his stance growing tighter.

Carlos, always perceptive, picked up on it quickly. "Franco’s been eyeing you more than usual," he commented under his breath, smirking as he twirled me again. "What’s going on there?"

I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. "Nothing. He’s just… being Franco."

Carlos chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as we moved in sync with the beat. "Right. Nothing. That’s why he’s looking like he wants to punch me."

I let out a huff, but the truth was, I could feel the tension between me and Franco bubbling beneath the surface. Every glance, every stolen look, felt like a promise—one I wasn’t sure I was ready to face yet.

As the song came to an end, I found myself needing a break. "I need a drink," I said, fanning myself as I pulled away from Carlos. "Anyone else?"

Carlos grinned, giving me a playful wink. "I’m good. Say hi to your lover boy from me please."

I laughed, waving him off as I made my way towards the bar. The crowd parted slightly as I moved, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to reset. But I wasn’t alone for long.

Before I could even order my drink, Franco was there, sliding up beside me with an ease that made my heart skip a beat. His presence was overwhelming, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the noise of the club fade into the background.

"You and Carlos seem to be getting along pretty well," Franco commented, his tone casual but laced with something darker—something that sent a thrill down my spine.

I raised an eyebrow, turning to face him fully. "What’s it to you?" I asked, my voice light but teasing. I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

Franco stepped closer, his body brushing against mine as he leaned in. "Just making sure you’re not getting too comfortable with the wrong guy," he said, his voice low, almost possessive.

A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. "Jealous?" I teased, leaning into the challenge. His proximity was intoxicating, and it took everything in me not to show just how much he was affecting me.

Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t step back. If anything, he moved closer, his gaze dark and unreadable. "Maybe," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to my lips before meeting my gaze again. "But you already knew that."

The air between us was charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his hand hovered near my waist as if he was waiting for permission to touch me.

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Lando’s voice cut through the air, announcing that he was about to take over the set. 

The music changed in an instant. The high-energy beats slowed, replaced by something smoother, more intimate. The kind of rhythm that forced people to get close—whether they wanted to or not.

Looking at the booth, I instantly made eye contact with Lando, who winked at me with the widest smirk ever. I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. It was his not-so-subtle attempt at playing matchmaker again, and as much as I hated to admit it, the slow, heavy beat was making it very hard to resist the magnetic pull I felt toward Franco.

"Guess Lando’s got a sense of humor," Franco murmured, closing the distance between us again, his breath brushing against my ear.

I swallowed hard. He was close—too close. The tension that had been simmering all night was now palpable, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending it didn’t affect me. The smell of his cologne, the warmth of his body, I was slowly losing my mind. 

Franco didn’t wait for me to respond. His hand found the small of my back, pulling me gently towards him. "Dance with me? Please." His voice was low, almost a whisper, and the sincerity in his eyes caught me off guard. This wasn’t the usual playful Franco I was used to—the one who flirted just for the sake of it. There was something deeper in his gaze, something real.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to catch my breath. "Franco…"

He leaned in, his lips hovering near my ear. "I’m not playing games tonight, Y/N," he whispered, his tone soft but firm. "This isn’t just me messing around."

I looked up at him, my heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his eyes. He was being sincere. This wasn’t the usual charm or smooth lines he used with everyone else—this was real. And it scared me.

"I…" I started, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if I could trust what I was feeling.

Franco’s hand slid from my back to my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "Just dance with me," he whispered again, his lips brushing my ear.

The music pulsed around us, slow and steady, and before I could think better of it, I nodded, slowly letting my guard down and giving in to the moment. Franco’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and he guided me onto the dance floor, our bodies moving in sync with the beat.

For a few moments, we just swayed together, the tension between us crackling in the air. Every touch, every brush of his hand against my skin, sent electricity shooting through me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, the steady thump of his heart against mine as we moved together.

"You know," Franco murmured, his voice a little rougher now, "I wasn’t lying earlier. About you."

I looked up at him, trying to keep my voice steady. "What do you mean?"

His green eyes met mine, filled with something I couldn’t quite place. "I know I make a lot of flirty jokes. With everyone. But with you? It’s different."

I blinked, the honesty in his words taking me by surprise. I opened my mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished.

"I don’t want you to think I’m just… playing around. This isn’t just some game to me." His hand tightened slightly on my waist, pulling me closer. "You are special to me. I just… I want you to be mine. Just mine."

My heart was pounding in my chest, the world around us fading into the background. His words hung in the air between us, and for the first time, I didn’t know what to say.

Before I could respond, Franco’s hand slid from my waist to my lower back, his fingers brushing against the bare skin exposed by my dress. "I don’t like sharing you," he added, his voice low and filled with something darker, something possessive.

A shiver ran down my spine at the intensity of his words. My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up at him, our faces inches apart.

"Who said you had to?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.

Franco didn’t wait for permission. In one swift motion, he closed the gap between us, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It was like all the tension that had been building between us finally exploded in that one moment. His hands cupped my face, holding me close as his lips moved against mine with a desperation that matched my own. I responded with equal intensity, my hands threading through his hair as I pressed myself closer to him.

The world around us ceased to exist. The music, the crowd, the lights—it all faded into nothing as I lost myself in the kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, and every brush of his fingers against my skin sent a jolt of electricity through me.

He pulled me even closer, his hands sliding down my back, and I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest. My own pulse was racing, my thoughts spinning out of control as we stumbled slightly, moving toward the edge of the dance floor.

Franco’s back hit the wall, and he pulled me against him, his hands still gripping my waist as we kissed with a fervor I hadn’t known existed. His tongue brushed against mine, and I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair as I pressed my body against his.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Franco’s green eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he looked down at me.

"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

I smiled, my fingers still tangled in his hair. "You’re not the only one," I whispered back, my heart racing.

Franco chuckled softly, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked down at me with a mix of affection and desire. "I’m never letting you go now, hermosa."

The way he said it made my heart flutter, and without thinking, I leaned in for another kiss. This one was slower, more tender, but just as intense. We stayed like that for what felt like forever, lost in our own little world, oblivious to the party happening around us.

Finally, Franco pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Let’s get out of here," he murmured, his voice still rough with emotion.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Together, we slipped away from the dance floor, unnoticed by the rest of the party as we made our way outside.

The club’s energy still buzzed in my veins as Franco and I stepped outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat of the dance floor. He tugged me toward the beach, the soft sound of waves pulling us further away from the noise inside. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting the Baku coast in a beautiful gentle silver glow. I couldn’t help but smile at the shift in atmosphere, from the wild club scene to the quiet, intimate stillness of the beach.

Franco was glowing, that much was obvious. He hadn’t stopped smiling since we left the club. And I knew it wasn’t just the thrill of dancing. Scoring his first F1 points today had him on cloud nine, and it was infectious. I felt it, too—his joy, his excitement—it made him even more attractive, if that was possible.

“You’re really not tired?” I teased, bumping his shoulder lightly as we strolled along the sand. “It’s been a pretty big day for you.”

He turned to me, his green eyes sparkling under the moonlight. “Are you kidding? Best day of my life.”

I laughed softly, stopping to let the waves lap at my feet. “The points are a big deal, Colapinto. You’re a proper driver now.”

Franco chuckled, but when he looked at me, his expression softened. “Yeah, but it’s not just the points. Today… everything about it just feels right.”

I raised an eyebrow, playfully tilting my head. “Oh yeah? What’s so special about it?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I could see past all the flirting and teasing to something deeper. “You,” he said simply, stepping closer. “This.”

I blinked, my heart stumbling over itself at the sincerity in his voice. “Oh stop it…”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted gently, his voice dropping lower. “Today was incredible. But I’ve been wanting this moment with you for a while. And tonight… it’s just perfect.”

There it was again—that raw honesty that caught me off guard. He wasn’t playing games, wasn’t teasing. He meant it.

“I didn’t think anything could top your race today,” I said quietly, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

Franco smiled, his hand finding its way to my waist, pulling me a little closer. “The points were great. But this? Being here with you? This is better.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and before I knew it, we were kissing again. But this time, it was slower, more deliberate. The heat from earlier gave way to something softer, something that made my heart ache in the best way possible.

When we finally pulled back, I rested my forehead against his, still catching my breath. “Guess today really was your day, huh?”

Franco chuckled, his hand gently brushing my hair back. “Yeah. And it’s not over yet.”

[starriislxt]

FILL ME UP ❤︎

ᝰ.ᐟ rodrick heffley x fem!reader | duration: 1.1k

description: rodrick sees a perfect time to start the process of baby making.

content: nsfw 18+ ﾉ breeding kink ﾉ dom!rodrick ﾉ sub!reader ﾉ lil praise kink ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ aftercare mentioned ﾉ rodrick’s is in his twenties.

notes: ahhh, i know i did a slight rodrick smut headcanons before but this is my first full fic smut for him and i'm excited. i hope y’all enjoy this.

kinktober mlist 𐙚 masterlist 𐙚 previous fic 𐙚 taglist

“How was that?”

You ask, looking at Rodrick who has a smile on his face, you just got done singing a new song you wrote for the band. You were pretty nervous about it too, it was one that gave you writer’s block since you wanted to be perfect.

“You always sound good,” Rodrick comments, laying back on the couch manspreading; gripping onto the drumsticks he held in his hand.

“I’m happy you liked it.” You question, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, you walk over to where he’s sitting, immediately taking your seat on his lap, taking his sticks out of his hand, placing it on the couch cushion, as his hands cups your waist, moving slowly towards your ass, squeezing it while he captures your soft lips with his after staring deeply into your eyes.

You knew what you two were doing was bad, intimacy between band mates was against the rules so no conflict were to ever happen if breakups were to concur but the magnetic pull that keeps bringing you two together since you met is so strong that you can’t just walk away from those feelings. Whenever he looks at you when he thinks you are not looking, it gets you all giddy inside, the butterflies that form in your stomach whenever you sing in front of him because his opinion always mattered the most out of everyone.

His hands grips the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head breaking the kiss for only a second, he unclamps your bra, discarding to the ground as you grind over his growing bulge that you can tell was aching to be released from the restraints of his jeans. 

Your hands travel down to his lower waist, unbuttoning his jeans, zipping down the zipper while you lift your body for a minute so he can take off both his jeans and his boxers, his hard cock springing up once it’s released. 

“Let me check the waters,” Rodrick says, bringing his hand under your skirt, feeling the wet spot on your panties, a smirk tugs on the corner of his lips as he pulls your panty to the side, lining up his tip to your entrance. “Look at my princess, all wet for me.” 

Your face heats up at his comment as you sink down slowly, biting down on your bottom lip as you enjoy every inch until you flush against his pelvis.

You hold on to his shoulders as you start to grind your hips slowly to get used to his length briefly before you start to bounce up and down on his cock. You squeeze your eyes shut from how good he feels inside of you. It was like your pussy was made only for him as it fits perfectly better than your ex ever did.

His hands grip your waist tightly as he guides your movements, the sounds of your moans mingling with each other filling the garage as if anyone was to walk by, they would hear what was going on and it excites you more.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, keeping eye contact with you as you continue bouncing, loving the squelching noises your pussy was making. You moans spill out your mouth as you’re loving every second of this. 

Rodrick arms wrap around your waist stopping all movement as he holds you while getting up, placing you on your stomach near the edge of the couch not disconnecting from your greedy cunt.

“If only you can see how pretty you are as you take all of me,” He comments, admiring the sight beneath him as he rolls his hips into you, soft moans escaping out of your slightly parted mouth as you grip the couch.

“Perfect, little pussy suckin’ me right in,” He groans as he keeps his pace looking into your pretty eyes. “Fuck— please…” you whimper.

“Please what? Use your words, tell me what you want, love,” Rodrick watches you try to form complete sentences as he thrust deeper inside of you, your moans filling his ears. He smirks once again, knowing he got you too fucked out to talk. 

Your boobs bouncing with each thrust, he looks at your sweat-slick belly, he reaches down to your breasts and his mouth trails down the valley of your breasts, biting and nibbling on the soft flesh, tongue swirling on the marks forming on your skin as his saliva leaves wet spots behind.

"So soft for me, (name), look at you" he huffs out, trailing downwards, reaching your stomach and something in his eyes change a shade darker, pounding into your cunt, the mewls in response from you drives him crazy, his mind going to places he shouldn't but the only thing that came to his mind was you full with his baby, your belly so round and soft. It would be one way to mark you as his, to stop all the guys from flirting with you after shows.

“Please… let me come,” you finally get out as you dig your nails into his back. 

“Go ahead, come all over my cock,” he groans as he uses his fingers to rub on your clit. Your cunt clenching around his dick, and your body starts to convulse, painting not only his cock but his lower waist as well with your release. 

“Good girl,” Rodrick praises in your ear as you try to catch your breath. “Gonna fill you up real good, would you like that, love?” He pounds harder and deeper as his cock twitches inside your cunt loving the sight of you nodding your head yes to his question, your gummy walls gripping him tighter. “You’d look so beautiful while carrying my child,” He places his hand on your stomach as he is picturing the sight. 

The mere images made his cock twitch inside you, your lewd noises of overstimulation just making it hard to back off from actually doing it, the pace he set is ruthless, pounding inside your sopping hole, slippery with your juices as he chases his end. 

Your lips parted, whined spewing out of your mouth as he fucks you, hitting the spongy spot repeatedly, nearing his own orgasm as he fills you up to the brim with his hot white spurts of seeds, his breath warm on your neck, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, perfectly fitting inside, hitting the spots in an angle never before, catching up with his depleted air levels as he looks down at your fucked out state, hands connected while your bodies connected as well with his cock still buried deep to the hilt inside your warm core, the images still plagued his mind. 

Rodrick slowly pulls out and as he does, he watches some of his cum ooze from your hole, he scoops it up and pushes it back into your pussy earning a whimper to escape your mouth. “I know baby, just needed to make sure none of it goes to waste, let’s clean you up,” he picks you up in bridal style, you snuggle in his chest while he carries you inside your home, leading you to the bathroom, happy of what’s to come in the future.

comments: @cherriespopsicle, @rain-likes-purple, @lover-of-books-and-tea.

end of video. — all rights reserved © starriislxt 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 20.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: Slight angst. Alcohol.

Tag List: @his-mochi-cheeks

Links: Can I Stay: Masterlist

You looked like a jewel.

You’d been to the salon for hair and makeup; had been to the spa for a waxing and skin treatment. You’d had everything that could be plucked and everything that could be massaged, filed, shaped and painted and the moment you pulled up the sparkly flesh colored, curve hugging, mini dress up over you hips, slipped the nude colored straps over your shoulders and reached just behind you to zip up the hidden zipper and turned to look over your own surprising reflection in your floor length mirror you gave yourself a tiny spin in place.

The dress sparkled like facets of a diamond even in your sparsely lit bedroom. The slight sparkling fringe moved when you moved and where the delicate pattern of the sparkles stopped, the dress gave the illusion of showing a lot more skin than it did; thanks to the fact that it seemed to blend in with your skin tone perfectly. There were some places in which the illusion broke; such as the high slit that crept up so high on your smooth bare thigh or on either side of your breasts where whatever bits of covering fabric simply stopped existing and the slightest glimpse of skin outlined the curves of your body.

The dress was sexy. It looked good on you and you felt beautiful, desirable, and powerful in it.

You bought it a few months ago. You’d happened upon this particular number in a boutique and hadn’t ever planned on spending this much on a dress at the time but when you’d held the dress up to yourself; shrugged and thought what’s the worst that could happen if you just tried it on, well…

Turns out, the worst that could happen was if it you as if it were made exclusively for you and you fell absolutely in love with every sparkly bit that curved over your hips, and hugged tightly around your waist; despite the fact that it was actually much more money than you’d ever wanted to spend on a single garment for one night; and was actually much sexier of a look than you thought you had a right to pull off at the time. What with being single and alone and undesired and the last thing you wanted was the purely animalistic looks you’d recognize in many of the men’s eyes; muted only by the scrutiny of the women around you who leaned toward bitchy and jealous when presented with a woman who wore such a sexy look with confidence and power around them.

You were beyond giving a damn anymore. At least when it comes to anyone who might have anything negative to say about you.

You left your neck bare; the dress was distracting and the cut away sides that gave just enough side boob with the way it landed below your arms and the delicately low cut neckline, you didn’t think you needed to draw any more attention below your neck. Instead you opted only to wear some delicate dangly earrings that might occasionally distract the occasional wandering eyes should they find themselves so inclined to look.

One item though; one very distracting and obvious item had you second guessing.

The diamond engagement ring.

Should you wear it? Something so obvious in its meaning in a place filled with so many people who both had no business knowing the truth and who really shouldn’t know at this point in the game.

You vacillated. Putting it on and taking it off at least three times before you let out the longest sigh and simply moved the ring to your right hand. Maybe you’d get the nerve to move it back when you saw him tonight. Maybe you’d change your mind when his eyes fell down to the empty ring finger of your left hand, then slipped over to catch the sparks that flew and caught his eyes from your right hand and looked back up into your own with whatever flash of disappointment in his eyes hidden so quickly you would question whether you’d seen anything at all.

He would understand. This was work. This was your career. These were your coworkers and this was your professional reputation. Sure, the truth would have to come out eventually, but you were desperate to put a little bit of distance between you being his direct supervisor and him being your soon to be husband.

The ring felt foreign and wrong on your right hand.

You did your best to push the feeling deep down inside of your belly where you could safely ignore it for now.

You hoped for a few things tonight.

That you wouldn’t collapse into a heap of love-sickness when you saw him.

That you could manage to keep yourself from drinking too much alcohol in some weak plan to keep yourself from collapsing into a heap of love-sickness when you saw him.

That Baekhyun would … that he might perhaps, by-chance, maybe you kind of, sort of, you hoped that Baekhyun would fall into a heap of love-sickness when he saw you.

You slinked closer to your front door; making the briefest stop at the entryway table that you kept at the door for one final touch. Something you knew he would very well struggle against when he leaned in close for a harmless and chaste touch of his soft cheek against yours; a hand that might linger on your waist when he came in close for a greeting he would smell the fragrance you sprayed against your neck. He would smell it here when he leaned close to whisper into your ear to ask you something harmless like ‘Would you like another drink, Miss Manager? This is already your second one, will you be okay?’, ‘Did you order the chicken or the fish, Miss Manager?’ or ‘Would you like to dance with me, Miss Manager?’

You felt giddy with anticipation.

All of your team members would be mingling with the other department team members; all of whom had worked tirelessly on this project from the very start. There would even be speeches and acknowledgments of a job well done. Another successful project completed. High ratings would be teased at. The liquor and the beer would flow in a grateful celebration as the wallets of the biggest, fattest cats got bigger and fatter.

Upper level producers, directors, and project executives would likely be on their second or third drinks by now and would start to set their wandering eyes on some of the younger, fresher girls as the alcohol gave them just enough of a push for a flirtatious compliment. Tucked away somewhere within the grand ballroom, one might even catch a glimpse of blond hair adoring a handsome face atop of a pair or strong, broad shoulders that would fill out a designer suit in a way that would surely take anyone’s breath away.

The taxi driver took a turn and you lifted a hand to grab a hold of the grip above the window and your nose caught the scent of your perfume. You were always careful not to overdo it. He might not even notice it until his face came in close to you. Maybe while you were both dancing. Maybe while he sat beside you at the table and leaned down to pick up your napkin that had slipped to the floor by your feet; reaching down at the same moment that you did, your heads nearly colliding.

You had to watch yourself tonight. Maybe three drinks maximum. Maybe three dances maximum. Any more than that was simply too dangerous.

Of course deep down inside you hoped his secret whispered questions wouldn’t all be so very appropriate. In your mind, his questions shifted as you sat in the backseat of the taxi to the hotel where the party was surely well underway by now. You didn’t mind being a bit late to these things. You’d spent the entirety of the year being obsessively dependable and chronically punctual but this was the end. This was the celebration. You could afford to relax now.

The first few times you’d attended, the idea of letting go on a weekday evening felt somewhat forbidden. But this was how they usually scheduled them for the sake of stretching out whatever was left of the budget. The rates were better on a week-night party and you knew the studio could even splurge on an open bar if they planned it well enough. You’d been to enough of these parties to know how they worked. Glitz and glamor, plenty of alcohol, lots of dancing, even more schmoozing. You giggled to yourself recalling the wild rumors and gossip that quickly spread through the last wrap party. It seems that a pair of particularly drunk party goers were caught making out in a darkened corner. It seemed that something scandalous had taken place in a hidden stairwell. Some drunken debauchery led to another pair waking up in the same bed together and at least two walk-of-shames had allegedly been witnessed by some particularly gossip loving members of the group chat that blew up your phone the next morning.

You really, really needed to watch yourself tonight. Absolutely no more than four drinks. A firm and immovable limit you would under no circumstances bend under. Four drinks and spread out thin. Maybe five if they seemed particularly watered down, but that was it. The most, the absolute most dances you would allow with him would be five. And the majority would be fast songs; not all of them slow dances. Not all of them touching each other lightly and carefully as not to sink fingertips too deep into any flesh; in the dimly lit crowded space that felt much more intimate than it had any right to. At least you should keep from staring for too long into the dark brown irises of his eyes. Two, or three, slow dances, max. You would not lose yourself in the embrace of his arms. You would not lean your head over his shoulder as his arms wrapped around your waist and the lyrics grew more romantic over the top of your heads. You would not hold your breath as you strained to listen to the sound of his heart beating inside of his chest over the sound of the music up ahead.

Your imagination quickly ran away from you and you ignored the fact that none of your math seemed to be making any sense right now.

‘Oh really? Was she, Miss Manager? I didn’t notice.’

‘Honestly, I can’t seem to see anyone else but you tonight, Miss Manager.’

‘Miss Manager … I heard that some of the staff just book a room after these parties so they don't have to drive.’

‘Do you think any of them are seeing each other?’

‘Do you think any of them are obsessed with each other?’

‘Do you think any of them are desperate for each other?’

‘Do you think any of them are like us?’

‘Miss Manager …’

‘Noona …’

‘Baby…

‘Should we just go up and get a room?’

You were giggling all alone in the back seat of this taxi. You’d forgotten yourself for long enough for a genuine snort of giggles to escape and you quickly laid a palm over your mouth to somehow catch them and put them back in.

Instinctively your eyes looked toward the cab driver and you caught a split second of eye contact with the man in the rear view mirror before he looked away with an amused grin on his face.

The hotel lobby was opulent and fancy. This was a good one. You dared to guess it was nicer than the last one, but this had been a bigger project with a bigger price tag. You were certain you’d spot an occasional cast member mingling amongst the production staff tonight; doing their due diligence; securing their next big role.

It was a grand event. You could hear the exciting sounds of the crowd inside the moment you stepped up to the foyer doors that would lead to the grand ballroom.

You were so late that it seemed the first episode had already aired. You’d missed the grand unveiling and the credits rolling. You were sure the congratulatory speeches and awards had already been passed out. There were never any such accolades for any one in your field so you didn’t really feel too bad about missing that part. You had entered the open space where larger crowds lingered. Hotel staff passed by with trays of drinks and small bites or held doors for you as you passed through doorways from spaces where people dressed to the nines just as you were, mingled; drank; laughed loudly and freely.

The stress and incredible effort of the past few months was finally let go. Smiles all around were genuine. It felt as if the culmination of a career’s worth of effort had finally amounted to something quite tangible here. The project, like countless you’d worked on in the past, had been a success. Well received by critics, audiences, and sold well to streaming services. Whispers of the next season filtered to your ears and you smiled widely to person after person; all familiar and all just as relieved by the good news as you felt.

They were all familiar in a once or twice introduced or professional acquaintance sort of way. You had yet to come across the members of your team and with as cliquey as things tended to grow after suffering together for so long, you were sure you’d find them in close proximity to each other.

You were sure you’d find another sort of familiar face amongst them. You couldn’t help the drift of your eyes over the heads of the crowds as you searched for that familiar shade of blond hair.

There were a few false alarms. That one was too tall, this one wasn’t even a man.

You heard a gasp that called your focus to your right and you’d at last found some of your team.

“Miss Manager, you look incredible!” Marci covered her open mouth with a palm and her wide eyes drifted over the length of you, her startled reaction pulled your lips into an amused grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.” She had a drink in her hands and her eyes had an excited glassiness to them. Already. You giggled when she gripped you tightly around the hand and shook it lightly and you were opening your mouth to refute her claims.

“Nah ~ I always dress up for these events.”

“Like a goddess!” She shouted over the music that had picked up in volume. She was joined by a few other team members and their eyes looked you up and down with the same sort of excited wonder.

“Sandi,” Marci shouted out over your shoulder and you turned your head toward the direction she was looking, “look at how pretty she looks tonight!” Sandi looked upon you with a quiet smile and a knowing expression behind her eyes and before long, Sandi and Marci were soon joined by some of the other girls in your team and you were quickly surrounded by a chorus of oohs and aahs. It seemed you had been just a bit later than you had expected because it was becoming evident that the drinking had been going on for quite some time already. Someone pushed a drink into your hand declaring that you needed to catch up. You were quickly caught up in the excitement and to quiet their noisy cries you raised what you knew was some sort of shot of alcohol and quickly downed it. It burned and tasted bad and someone else shoved a quarter of a lime between your lips. Tequila.

You needed to be more careful. Of all of the liquors that took your rational mind and tossed it quickly out the window, tequila was one of the most dangerous ones.

It was useless though. Everyone was too worked up and much too excited to listen to your polite declinations. This is a party, they all shouted. You’d had another shot of something else; influenced by the excitement that buzzed through them like a flu, spreading from them to you; you were too caught up. Two. You could still keep your wits about you with just two drinks.

Let’s go dance together, someone else urged. You grinned and you pushed your hands forward, promising them that you would join them as soon as you were able to. Just as soon as you made your rounds and said your greetings to your superiors. They gave small groans of disappointment that was quickly forgotten as soon as the next songs began playing in the speakers over their heads. It was a fun and popular pop song and the small group jumped up and down excitedly, abandoning you and your self proclaimed very important managerial duties that still called your name.

And you certainly would greet whoever you happened to run into. Producers and managers from other teams. You nodded politely, shook their hands and gave your sweetest smiles to some of your favorites.

Sophie Choi grabbed you tightly around the shoulders and pulled you in for a warm hug and over her shoulders your eyes scanned the room for any shades of hair that were anything other than black. You’d begun to feel just a little bit desperate the longer you looked and came up empty.

As your eyes searched they met with a pair of eyes that were indeed familiar. You pushed a smile on your lips, making absolutely certain that your expression showed not even a hint of the disappointment you were beginning to feel the longer you searched through in this place and did not find the person you were really looking for.

Ben from the marketing department gave you an almost undetectable double take and his eyes drifted over the length of you before the ultra polite professional smile quickly took over whatever look you might have imagined seeing in his eyes. Perhaps his team had pressured him into having a few more drinks that he had intended to as well. Perhaps that was the reason for the way his focus seemed to linger in places other than your shrewd, business-like eyes and co-worker-appropriate placid smile.

Ben leaned into you with his greeting, a warm hand landing just over your back as he did it. His words spoke into the space where he leaned near your ear. The music was loud, of course, he had to speak up a bit. Despite the unusually close proximity between the two of you and the warm palm that still sat quite high up on your bare shoulder, a part of you marveled at just how little thought you actually gave to anything other than the words coming from his mouth.

He was talking about work. Asking you about this new co-worker who you had sent him. This mystery man who would soon be joining his Marketing Communication team as his newest Marcom Specialist; an impressive sounding title for sure. You gave yourself the smallest internal pat on the back for pulling the necessary strings to sell Ben on such a move for your former assistant. Although it wasn’t as if Baekhyun was any stranger to blatant favoritism in this company, you still felt pretty green when it came to nepotism. Not that it was even needed. The second Ben found out who Baekhyun was, he would have agreed straight away. This man was basically guaranteed to be everyone’s boss one day.

Still, urged by your own guilt, you’d made the deal with plenty of back-end promises to owe Ben big time for this, and knowing the man, he would cash in on those favors as soon as he was met with even the slightest bit of resistance from some of the other managers. After this quick chat with Ben, you felt good about this change.

Ben was now giggling and asking about special treatment the President's son might require; his eyes not even trying to conceal the apprehension that broke through the nervous laughter that he was obviously feeling for agreeing to play host to such a high profile guest. You were quick to refute any such ideas. Your former assistant would be a valuable addition and an asset to his team. At no point in your working with Baekhyun had he ever given any sort of impression that he was even capable of using his birth as a professional advantage. Ben was lucky to have such a talented person working at his side and this was not a decision he would regret.

“I’ll admit I’m still a little bit suspicious of my new charge. But I’ll trust you for now,” he smiled genuinely with his eyes, sated for now.

Ben had always been kind. He had been great in the few instances as you’d had to work with him and he was not unattractive. Although the deeper parts of your brain tended to describe his good looks in rather clinical terms. He looked clean. He looked symmetrical. Conventionally attractive. A safe bet. Perhaps even a little boringly so. The kind of attractive looks that one might have with the occasional medical and orthodontic intervention courtesy of a pair of well-off parents who were probably still securely married to this day.

You couldn’t help the way your mind wandered. You also did very little to stop it. It was probably the alcohol's fault. You had somehow finished another drink. Looking into Ben’s harmless and clean smile you heard a judgemental whisper deep within your subconscious. Comparing this man to the other man who had a death grip on your heart and your soul and your lady parts for good measure. Ben was nice but also felt extremely sterile. Curious judgements of the man slipped in. A man like this, and you’d known a few through the years, but, a man like Ben in the bedroom would not always be a disappointment. But he would not be a triumph either.

With a man like this, a woman might even be satisfied and perhaps thirty percent of the time she might even orgasm. As long as she managed that before fifteen minutes were up of course. A man like this definitely had a time limit.

This was definitely the alcohol speaking.

“Sophie!” A familiar voice interrupted your mind's silly wandering and brought a dark shadow along with it.

You heard his loud abrasive laugh. It sounded fake and forced. The owner of that familiar voice calling for Sophia Choi was lingering close by. It was Sophie’s 1st. The very same man you’d promised your boyfriend you wouldn’t allow yourself an opportunity to spend time alone with. The man who looked you up and down with an unfiltered, animalistic look in his drunken eyes and wagged perfectly manicured eyebrows up and down as his lips pulled into something in between a sneer and a delighted grin.

Chet.

Your eyes rolled and you exhaled a slow breath.

You weren’t too much of a drinker. Occasionally and only in social settings; you rarely let loose too often outside of that. Alcohol wasn’t your first medicine of choice and in situations when others might want to drown their sorrows in something to make the mind far far away from reality; you usually made other self detrimental choices like not eating for a week until you got so dizzy you had to force down a bowl of oatmeal, or on the opposite spectrum downing a quart of ice cream until you felt so full and bloated you had no choice but to wallow in your own self curated misery.

“Chet.” Ben nodded his head, and a single eyebrow danced above his eye, “enjoying the party, I see.” Something in Ben’s tone told you that he didn’t have a very high opinion of the man either.

Chet pulled his eyes up from his blatant and obvious examination of your chest and gave Ben a two second glance with a curt nod before his focus was back on you; thankfully on your face now instead of wherever his lustful eyes had been looking.

“Miss Manager,” you heard Chet tack your name onto the end of your title and the sounds of his words had the sort of inflection that told you he had very much intended to keep talking. “That’s quite a dress. You look … very pretty tonight.”

“Doesn’t she look so pretty, Ben? Like a pretty little princess.” Chet’s words were on the surface directed at Ben but his eyes did not leave you. Although they had drifted from your face again.

“So… I was wondering, Miss Princess—” Chet’s eyes moved slowly back up into your face and the excessive way he drew out the S sounds made his words slither like a snake up the back of your spine.

Ben’s body language had changed with the off-putting new nickname and weirdly confrontational tone Chet somehow felt was appropriate to use with you.

“Whoa. Hey—” Ben had noticeably stiffened and his face pulled into a frown as he lifted a hand, palm facing outward about chest level, calling the other man out audibly for the disrespect.

“Maybe you should slow down on the drinks tonight, Man.” Like any rational person might, Ben attributed Chet’s bad behavior to an alcohol induced slip up. It was an easier conclusion to accept than the realization that maybe Chet was just an asshole who didn’t see women as real people and only showed them basic human decency when delusioned by the chance to fuck them.

Once you’d taken that off the table, Chet no longer had any reason to fake it. This was the real Chet.

His intentions toward you had taken on more transparent and obvious meaning. Had you been completely in your right mind, you might have even sensed a little danger in the darkness you saw in those eyes of his.

But as you stood now, you cared too little about this person. He was insignificant in your life. Let him throw his fit. You were simply not interested in whatever it was he felt he had to say to you and so you allowed your eyes to drift away from both of these men, giving almost no acknowledgement at all to Chet or to his greeting or to whatever the hell he was wondering about. You didn’t even give him the satisfaction of acting offended.

You could blame the loud music for not hearing him. You could blame the alcohol for giving you the nerve to turn your back and walk away from him the way you did. He could blame you for being a cold bitch for all you cared. You’d been clear with him in the past when you told him he wasn’t to speak to you unless absolutely necessary and only for work.

It wasn’t that you liked to hold grudges. It was just that you had seen his true colors already and you simply could not unsee them now.

As you left the two men behind you heard Ben’s attempts at being a rational adult. Their bickering voices quickly faded though when the crowds moved and you saw the familiar shape of a man in a deep blue suit. A man with broad shoulders so significant that you felt a warmth surge deep within your belly when your eyes landed on his back. The effect was instantaneous. It was the sudden blast of a warm shower after being caught in the cold rain. It was the warmth of the summer sunshine hitting your face as the dark clouds parted and heat penetrated every layer of your skin. He was life and happiness and joy and love and the sudden shift within your body nearly gave you whiplash with how complete and instant this transformation that happened inside of you was.

It was him. It was Baekhyun. You knew him in an instant. You’d found him.

He was standing next to your team. You saw Marci, Sandi, Ju Won, Sera, and even Sunny — your newest Assistant. He was laughing with a hand over his mouth; you heard his genuine delight and loud guffaws pierce through the crowds. His back was to you and you dropped your hand that held your empty glass hanging it down by your thigh and you simply took in the sight of him. For just a moment you allowed those feelings to fill you completely. You knew you had to be staring. You knew if someone was paying any attention to you right now they’d know without a doubt how very in love you were with this man.

The suit was fitted. Cinched at the waist and it looked designer, of course and very expensive. He filled it out very well. You could make out the strength in his back, the biceps in his arms. The plushness of his thighs below where the jacket ended. The knowledge that this man was yours bubbled up inside of your chest and you had to lift your fingertips to lightly touch over the heat you felt in your face, begging some of the flushness you felt to dissipate.

Earlier as you wandered around this busy place, greeting people you knew on a surface level it all felt very performative. You would push up your smile wide and believable. You would use your kindest and sweetest voice to speak out many compliments and it felt like work.

This though — standing here and looking at this man. The smile you felt was real. I took no effort. It took more effort to blank out your face and pretend like you weren’t looking at your person; the one that felt like home to you.

Only something was very different. The hair. His hair. No wonder you couldn’t find him earlier; you’d been searching for blond hair. He had done something new.

His hair was brown now. It looked like rich honey or dark caramel in this lighting. It was coiffed and styled up by an expert’s hand and when he turned you caught the sight of his profile. The contrast between the dark hair and his light skin, the slight pink of his cheeks and his pouty lips as he spoke; the dark eyebrows and pretty black of his eyelashes and the specks of the tiny moles on his lovely face — all of it; all of him — you were reeling. You felt frozen. You hadn't been prepared for such a drastic change. He should have told you first. He should have sent you a picture so you could get your reaction ready.

He hadn’t told you that he was going to change his hair color. Although he seemed to change it so often you really should have prepared yourself for the possibility of such a thing but everything about this felt so different.

Still the suddenness of this; the impact of how shockingly beautiful he looked with this particular up-style in this particular shade of caramel; your mind was spinning and you were having a moment in the middle of this crowded party too stunned to take another step.

You caught the moment when Sandi noticed you and she reached out a hand to touch lightly on Baekhyun’s forearm; catching his attention easily, her eyes bounced pointedly to where you stood like a statue glued to the floor behind him.

Baekhyun followed. First with his eyes and then he turned his head before he spun halfway around and he looked into your face; his eyes landing first into your own stunned ones.

The smile he had from the lively chat sank, flattened and vanished when he saw you. His eyes had a drift to them. Those deep brown irises took you in. It was an achingly slow journey from your face where his brown eyes had first sunk in with a splash. But their flighty focus slid down to the bare skin of your neck and your chest. They took their time at the deep plunge of the neckline and the peek of cleavage this dress displayed; no doubt triggering flashes of memories of his mouth and the bite marks he’d left all over your breasts that the sheer swirls of this fabric concealed. The drift of him moved again; lower and lower until you felt thoroughly consumed and had by him. He absorbed you — all of you. He did it slowly and he savored it.

This look from him, this reaction left you dumbfounded; even more so than seeing him standing there looking exactly as he should on your wedding day complete with the hair, the slight eye makeup his stylist had put on him that accentuated his beauty, the expertly fit suit in the exact shade of navy blue satin that complimented him so well and made him stand out like a goddamned god amongst mortals. That he could so affect you in absolute silence; without a word, without a single touch, with only the look in his eyes, was a wonder.

In addition to the new and sudden warmth that built up under the surface of your skin you also felt a rush of power. You very much enjoyed this feeling. This dress in all of its sparkly, curve hugging and teasingly enticing glory from the beginning to where it abruptly ended, so high up on your thighs, it just might have been worth the hefty price tag afterall. Just for this reaction from him.

You wondered at that moment if he’d dressed up for you just as you had done for him.

His eyes had made it down. His gaze was faltering and he was pushing through it. Halfway through the journey back up to once again meet your waiting eyes and now, victorious smile, his parted lips tensed and he snapped his jaw up tight with a visible clench of the muscles on his face and his chest rose with the sudden intake of air through his nose. Then he bit down on his bottom lip, furrowed his eyebrows and he pushed his eyes forcefully away from you; he looked off somewhere else; anywhere else; eyes completely devoid of any focus as he exhaled a purposefully stunted and restrained breath through his parted lips.

You knew you had to do the same. You had to blank out your expression and get rid of the lustful look in your eyes. You had to put on the falsely confident, bright as sunshine smile that did not betray any of your true feelings.

It took some doing. It took a deep breath, quite similar to the one he’d drawn into his lungs just now and you also had to look at something that was not him.

You chose the floor right in front of your feet. You shook your head a tiny bit to rid yourself of whatever leftover bits of haze might still be floating around inside of there and you forced your feet to move.

It was only two or three steps to join the group and you slipped into an empty space between Sunny and Baekhyun, looking at the other friendly faces first before you dared to look head-on into his face from this close.

There were greetings of course. Your eyes danced around the small circle quite quickly and by the time you had taken as many deep and steadying breaths of air you were going to get, you looked up into his face with an absolutely passive and non-sexually charged smile on your face.

“Assistant Byun,” you said with a tick of your face in his direction. He hadn’t been looking at you either. When you spoke his name, you saw him lick his lips, close his eyes tightly once and quickly replace the tension in his jaw with a small smile before he turned his attention to you. Your words were light and you let the surprise out of your voice as casually as you could, “you changed your hair?”

“Or I guess it’s Specialist Byun now, isn’t it?” A single eyebrow danced over one of your eyes and you ticked your head a tiny bit. His focus shifted down and as he caught the movement a look of alarm flew across his face. Those pink pouty lips parted. You watched from up close, the tiny gasp he took the moment you lifted a hand and rolled several strands of this new hair of his between your fingertips and your thumb; resisting the urge to sink your hand in deep and run your fingers through his hair; scraping the warmth of his scalp lightly with your fingernails; eliciting that low throaty moan that you knew would escape from deep within his chest when you did it.

Instead you just smiled wider, dropped your hand without even letting the pads of your fingers run down the smooth warmth of his pretty face, you just dropped your hand down, gripping the stem of this empty wine glass instead of touching any other part of his body.

“I love it like this,” you said softly with affection written all over your voice, “looks so good on you—” you added with a sudden halt at the end of your words as you realized you’d just said all of that with honey dripping off of your tongue, directing genuine compliments toward the man in the presence of at least half of your entire team. The effects of your sudden, easy, and completely out-of-character declarations left him as shell-shocked as you felt on the inside.

“Miss Manager … I’ve never seen you like this. You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?” Sandi interjected loudly from the other side of where Baekhyun stood frozen; an amused smile on her face and her eyes wide with a purposeful look that went deeper than others could catch on to.

“I also went to the salon, don’t you love my hair too?” Her lips pulled into a dramatic pout and you smiled wider, understanding that she was saving your ass right now. You leaned into it. Feeling every bit of the warmth of those alcohol shots coursing through your veins you closed the distance between you and this wonderful woman as you gripped both sides of her head with your hands and leaned in closely with a wide smile. You leaned your forehead into hers, unspoken messages of thanks written all over your eyes.

“You look so beautiful. I love it! It’s absolutely stunning!” You declared and the delighted giggles left your chest mingled and mixed with the cadence of the rest of the group's laughter. “And I am, maybe, a tiny bit drunk right now.”

“Oh she has been drinking,” you heard several relieved voices justifying your odd behavior just now. “Well — yeah, it is a party.”

“I thought he was going to faint just now.”

“I know, right. She doesn’t know the power she has over him. Poor guy didn't know what to do.” Their words were whispered in hushed asides between casual members of this small group, but you still caught them. Perhaps Baekhyun’s crush on you had only ever been a secret to you. You must have been the blindest, dimmest, worst work-aholic ever.

Marci was your next target. She was already laughing when you poked an index finger into her cheek, calling her cute as a button. Your hand was off of Sandi and you wrapped one around each of the girls shoulders and declared them both to be the most beautiful women in the room as you urged them both to join you on the dance floor. The music had picked up and more and more people had ventured out to get lost in the crowds and move their bodies to the beat of the music.

You danced and danced. Song after song played and you found yourself completely lost in this unfiltered joy; with so many of your favorite people cheering and laughing and dancing along with you. There was more alcohol that simply appeared and try as you might, you were no match for this kind of pressure.

You’d lost count.

Oh no.

You’d lost count of them.

Still, somehow you could always feel the warm arm of your Sandi by your side. She was strong, but you’d found your way to the edge of the dance floor, peering out toward the tables where a handsome man in a navy blue suit was giggling and laughing with some other men. That same handsome man was throwing back a shot of something, he was making a face and pulling a green lime out from in between his teeth and licking his lips and oh, his eyes, his eyes were darting from the faces of his friends into your own eyes again and again. He was pulling you into him.

“I’m going to dance with him,” you said abruptly to the group of women beside you. Several faces leaned in, unable to hear you over the loud music and you repeated with an evident slur in your voice, “Him. I want to dance with him. Bring him to me. I want him.” You pointed a finger toward Baekhyun and the women were all giggling. One of them was off, rushing toward where he leaned against his table resting his hands joined together over his thighs and she was leaning in close, her hand shielding her mouth as she whispered something into his ear.

His smile was wide and breathtaking. He was grinning. You’d never experienced Baekhyun in any state of intoxication before but his cheeks were pink and he was giggling as he stood up straight, pulled his suit jacket down and smoothed it over with the palms of his hands and allowed himself to be dragged by the sleeve for several feet until he was standing before you within touching distance.

You felt the palm of his hand land over your waist and you smelled the deliciousness of his cologne before you felt the heat of his cheek land over yours. He whispered into your ear.

“I heard — —- —?” A particularly loud song started. This took more than a whisper. You reached a hand up and gripped around the back of his neck, pulling his head down so you could speak loudly into his ear.

“What?” Was all you said. Less than classy and less than romantic. It had him laughing and he closed his eyes tighter as he did it. A small head shake from him preceded the tightening of his arm’s grip around your waist and he gave a rough tug. You stumbled into him and with his other hand, he reached for your face.

You felt unprepared for this. His touch. His touch here, in this place. All of these people. The stiffness you felt all over his body and the way he smelled. How much could you get away with blaming on the alcohol? That hand that touched your face reached for you, slipping around to the back of your neck, he dipped into you. With the entire length of your bodies touching you felt the hot breath from his mouth fan out over your ear and you heard the low rumble from his throat as he growled out the words for you to hear.

“You. Want. Me.”

What was he saying?

What was he doing to you in front of all of these people by saying such a thing to you in the way that he said it?

“To dance,” you shouted over the music, quite loudly, not just for him but for anyone else who might have been watching you.

Baekhyun was laughing again. Loudly. It shook his entire body and you along with it.

“That’s what I meant, silly girl.” He was pushing you deeper into the dance floor with his hands still around your waist, he simply walked forward and you were forced to step back; stumbling a few times without knowing where you were going until the tightness with which he held you around the waist grew stronger and stiffer and his body heat built as his muscles flexed. You were no longer relying on your own feet. You were being carried by these strong arms. He lifted you as he moved. The room was spinning and oh no, what if someone saw?

What if someone noticed the obvious ease and intimate familiarity with which this man handled your body?

You were deposited. The song had changed again. It was, thankfully, another lively quick tempoed pop song; one you liked quite a lot. You found the rhythm easily with his arms around you. He led you around, his eyes boring deep within yours, pushing you out with strong arms and pulling you back.

You followed where he sent you and you found yourself finally giving in. Giggling and squealing when you were spun around in a dizzying circle before you were once again caught in those arms and then, much to your absolute terror, dipped down, frighteningly fast, you were looking straight up into the strings of lights that decorated the ceiling and clawing into the fabric over his strong shoulders; holding on for dear life. Before you were dropped flat on your back in an embarrassing heap, you found the gravity had changed very suddenly and you were back on your feet with this man biting down very hard on his own lip to keep from doing something stupid like leaning in to kiss the red hot embarrassment from the surface of your cheeks.

Baekhyun was a good dancer. He made your dancing seem that much better by comparison, but really, you were simply being dragged around by someone who seemed to know exactly what he was doing. You weren’t awful. You had the basics down and easily found your footing; moving easily to the beat again and again whenever he relinquished a little bit of control over to you. You were lost in this. You never, ever wanted this to end. Devastatingly though, it did.

You were genuinely surprised and even pouting quite visibly when the song ended. It was too quick. If dancing with him was your excuse to touch him and to be held by him tonight then you wanted to dance with him for the rest of the evening.

The song had ended and you stood with both of his arms wrapped around your waist and the rhythm of his heavy breathing matched yours perfectly. You found yourself staring at his parted lips, watching the movement in them as he breathed; glimpsing the tip of his tongue that lightly touched the underside of his front teeth.

“I told you —” you heard the softest whisper from him. The words from him, desperate and careful, piled up slowly one by one inside of your head, “I might not behave myself if you looked too pretty—”

He squeezed his eyes shut and you recognized that the tightness in his arms did not let up.

“How dare you show up in this dress — how dare you — ohh, I’ve been drinking…what do — what do I do?”

His jaw snapped shut and his eyes stayed closed.

“I want to kiss you. You fit so perfectly in my arms.”

His grip was still so tight and the music had changed. The song was slow and lovely and romantic with a soft and delicate melody. Around you, the crowds began to thin as friendly coworkers who had no intention of turning into lovers began to drift away from the dance floor; back to their tables for another drink, or over to the bathrooms, or over to mingle and chat in one of the lounge areas.

“Push me away — please.” His words came as a plea through clenched teeth, “unless you want me to kiss you in front of all of these people, please push me and go. Leave me here.” He was serious. He had enough of his mind still intact to ask for help.

His words and the shift in the air had brought you out of the spell and one glance around had you making eye contact with the occasional curious observer. People were slow with it, but every now and then you would catch someone’s eyes. Why were the two of you still in such a tight embrace? What are they doing? They aren’t even moving anymore. The song ended, shouldn’t they go back to the table?

So you lifted a hand to place over his chest, giving a very light tap atop of his beating heart.

You left your hand to rest there and noticed he didn’t move. It took a slightly firmer hand, you tapped again and pushed, also taking a step back away from him.

The arms loosened and his eyes were opening. You stepped out of his embrace. He was not looking at you, but down at the empty space between his hands where you’d once occupied.

“I’ll go to the bathroom,” you offered, hanging your head slightly as you stepped quickly off the dance floor. You resisted the urge to look back until you were safely at the hallways that led to the restrooms. When you finally did turn and look back, he was nowhere to be found.

The bathrooms were impeccably clean and well lit. You spared yourself a quick glance in the mirror just to be sure that nothing was out of place and you were pleasantly surprised by what you saw. While the reflection staring back at you did take a few moments to stop looking blurry and dizzy, your professional salon makeup job hadn’t seemed to budge and your hair and dress still looked perfect. Furthermore, the soft pink glow in your cheeks and sparkle you saw shining back in your eyes seemed to make you look even better. It was the alcohol, of course.

This was it. You wouldn’t drink any more alcohol tonight. You had plenty to still feel good and you could still reasonably think well enough to avoid making any disastrous mistakes.

When you were satisfied that the danger for such mistakes had passed, you left the sanctity of that private calm space for the darkened hallway just outside. The contrast between the well lit bathrooms and the darkened hallway on the other side of the door had you struggling for your eyes to focus and with the second step you felt the telltale bump of your shoulder against a warm body.

You were quick to step aside and drop your face, uttering a quiet apology for bumping into someone but there was no response that came immediately. It only took a half a second more for you to recognize who this person was.

You smelled it first. It was kind of an acrid alcohol scent and a distinct fragrance from one of those drugstore deodorant sprays, the kinds that prepubescent teen boys spray way too much of as they wander through their high school hallways. You’d always smelled it when he demanded his greeting hugs and you smelled it now.

The realization made you exhale a low breath of irritation and you turned to leave this place and walk away from this conversation before it began.

“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

Chet’s words slurred even more than that had earlier in the evening.

You already felt exhausted by this. “Chet, you are drunk. We are not having this conversation.”

“You avoid me now. You blocked me.” His words were filled with vitriol and his big body moved to block you off from the exit. All you cared about at this point was removing yourself from this darkened hallway and getting back into the spaces where more people congregated. “You used to be cool but now, now you’re just like … this—”

“If you have any actual, substantial complaints about working with me,” you cut him off. You didn’t want him to say something he was going to regret when he sobered up, “please feel free to contact HR in the morning and we will follow the proper channels to get this resolved. I don’t want you to speak to me outside of work — not alone.”

“Do you know how many times I bought you lunch? Only for you to blow me off like this?”

Was he serious? Was he really saying you owed him more than what you had initially thought was friendship; what you later learned was what he hoped would be something physical just because he used the company card to pay for your lunches sometimes?

His arguments were so stupid you had a physical reaction. You had been trying your best not to react to any of the idiotic things he said but this simply had you overcome. You rolled your eyes hard, crossed your arms over your chest and scoffed out loud.

“Please. Please send me a bill for your itty bitty sandwiches, Chet. I would gladly pay anything to be done with you.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. You had perhaps gone a bit far. You should have known a man like him had plenty to be insecure about. It was too late. You were already mad and the alcohol didn’t help you hold your tongue at all.

“We are done here.”

You’d had all you could stand. How dare this big oaf of a man try and ruin your fun night out. You caught a small gap between him and the wall and you ducked through the space, moving fast so he wouldn’t have a chance to react.

You'd made it four steps before you felt the sting of a strong hand grabbing hard around your wrist and yanking you backward in a fluid motion.

All of your forward momentum shifted in one instant and you spun around, yelping out loud from the sudden shock of being pulled back and also from the genuine pain you felt around your wrist. His hold didn’t let go when your motion stopped; instead he squeezed harder and the stinging pain turned into an ache as the bones in your wrist seemed to flex under the strength of his hold. You wondered how much they could take. You could hear the racing of your own heartbeat echoing loudly inside your ears and the frantic thumping made your already fuzzy mind begin to feel dizzy and unstable. The darkness in this hallway felt suffocating as the fear surged through you; taking your breath and making it shallow and ineffective and you cried out from the terror of this.

“Chet. You’re hurting me.” Your voice sounded so small to your own ears. It sounded helpless and like pleading. It scared you to hear yourself sound this way.

There was a new sound. A shuffling and a grunting sound and your eyes caught a swift blur of motion; someone else was here now. Someone was here.

Someone in blue; someone familiar. You felt a new set of hands on you, around your wrist there was a shove and Chet let go from the surprise of being interrupted. You grabbed at your own wrist and held it up to your chest watching the commotion unfold before you. If you hadn’t known him so well you might not even have known who this was. You could smell him. You could hear the cadence of his breathing and you could make out that specific shade of blue that he wore tonight.

Baekhyun moved quickly, reaching behind the man in one swift motion he grabbed for Chet’s suit jacket and pulled it up over the man’s face, blocking out whatever light he might have been able to see and disorienting him completely. Chet grunted and hollered like a stuck pig. If you hadn’t been so surprised by this you might have even laughed. You saw Baekhyun shoving hard at the man’s back as Chet tried to untangle himself from beneath the coat as he struggled to breathe, struggled to identify his attacker, struggled to free himself of his own coat, it soon became clear why your boyfriend chose this route to come to your rescue.

Chet had no way of knowing who was doing this. Baekhyun didn’t say a single word despite what you knew had to be a deep ache inside of himself to tell this rat bastard to get his filthy hands off his woman and possible go fuck himself while he was at it.

Instead he merely gave one very hard final shove at the man’s back and sent him flying through the doorway of the ladies bathroom. As the door parted you briefly got a glimpse of the chaos that ensued inside that room. A drunken tangle of a man toppled to the floor surrounded by surprised and screeching women who lifted hand bags and swatted at the unwelcome intruder as they all screamed for help. A pervert, one of them cried. The moment he broke free from the coat long enough to open his eyes into the blinding brightly lit room of the ladies bathroom he was swiftly greeted by a rough smack of a heavy purse to the face.

Gravity pulled the door closed and the shouts and shrieks grew muffled behind that door.

You felt too stunned to move. Your hands hung limply by your side and you flinched hard when you felt his warm hands reach out to grab one of them. He held you tightly by the wrist, the same one that was still sore.

“He’s done.” Baekhyun growled. “You’ll never see him or hear from him again. He is blacklisted here and everywhere else. He can shovel shit in Kabul for all I care, that’s the choice he made by putting his fucking hands on you.”

There was a grave seriousness to his voice that you had never, ever heard from him before; in your entire history of knowing him you’ve never witnessed this kind of a reaction from him.

“Baek, I,” you lightly pulled back against his arm. He was walking faster to exit the darkened hallway and put some distance between you and what had just happened back there.

“I told you. I begged you not to be alone with him. Don’t you think I know men? I know a fucking piece of shit when I see one.”

He was worked up. He was angry and cursing and he didn’t seem to hear you call his name or feel you pull against the hold he had on your arm. From the left turn he took it seemed like he was headed for one of the far off lounges where the loud music from the grand ballroom was a distant thumping echo and someone might be able to sit and talk in peace for a while in a somewhat private space.

“Baek,” you called him again a little louder. You were still being dragged and you pulled back again; a little bit harder against him. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful for him being there and intervening when he did. It wasn’t even that he was here dragging you around this place, where anyone who might not yet be drunk enough to pay attention, might see. It wasn’t even that he had a firm grip around the very same wrist that had been wrangled by Chet and it was honestly feeling just a little too sore from all the rough handling, but the part that you really began to feel was unfair, the part that had you stop your legs in their tracks and pull your hand roughly out of his hands, an action so unexpected from him that he turned around to look at you with wide surprised eyes, halfway through, and standing right in the middle of lounge that he’d brought you to; that part, that was what did it to you and made you move. Unfair. This was unfair.

You held your wrist up to your chest and covered it lightly with the other hand, took your eyes away from his questioning ones and looked around the room. There were some people. In the far left corner in the dark a couple sat with their drinks in their hands and their heads close enough for quiet whispers. On the other end, a woman sat with her cell phone in her hands as she frantically typed away on the screen.

You weren’t alone with him here.

Your wrist hurt.

Your feelings hurt.

The alcohol was making everything dizzy and fuzzy and your mood was quickly plummeting.

You didn’t like the wild anger you’d heard coming from him, and while, yes, it was justified — Chet had acted like an asshole and had definitely crossed a line, something in Baekhyun’s words had irked you. Something in the way he turned the situation around and seemed to imply that the responsibility for what happened was on you.

I told you.

I told you not to be alone with him.

I told you so.

He was right and you were… wrong?

What had you done wrong?

You felt it. It was in the burning inside of your eyes. A hot tingling that made you inhale a sharp breath and avert your eyes quickly from him.

“Do you believe that I did something wrong?” Your words came out as a barely inaudible whisper. You caught the motion of Baekhyun’s feet, you saw him take a step into you and you felt the light touch of his fingertips on your forearm.

There was a sharp intake of breath from him. You could heard it even with you looking down at the floor like this. You could hear the breath he took and the way it stuttered and shook. You heard the exhale that came after that and the small groan that came from deep inside him.

You couldn't do this here. There were people here. The last thing you needed was a breakdown. You had to close your eyes to stop it. Stupid alcohol. You knew it was making these bad feelings so much worse.

“No, no.” You heard him whisper under his breath. His fingertips were touching your skin, “shit — I didn’t —”

“I wasn’t … looking for him … I just came out of the bathroom and he was there.” Your bottom lip felt heavy. It trembled under its own weight. You pulled it in between your teeth and bit down, willing yourself to behave, willing your emotions to calm down.

“No. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry I said that.”

You were on the edge right now. Every single bit of your weak and vulnerable humanity had bubbled up right to the very rim and was threatening to crest. You were being tested and the careful control you always maintained, always begged and pleaded to keep under wraps was at its limit. You could feel it abating. You could feel yourself beginning to get on top of it the longer you stood here with your eyes closed; not saying anything to anybody and not touching anything but yourself. Not being touched by anything but the very very tips of his fingers, you could hardly even stand that much.

“I know it wasn’t anything you did.”

He needed to just wait.

“You didn’t do anything. It was him. I’m just…I’m just mad at him.”

This would pass if you just waited it out, it would pass. You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't break down here, at this party filled to the absolute brim with nearly every single person you know in your professional career.

“I’m sorry, baby. I made a mistake. I didn’t mean it about you. I don't think that about you. I don't believe that. I’m so sorry.”

You lifted a single finger and you held it suspended, begging for him to stop speaking for the sake of your own careful control. Your closed eyes were trembling and they were fighting to open; to look into his pretty face and to see the softness in those eyes that you know you heard in his voice.

Your hands were fighting too. You longed to feel the warmth of his chest against your own. You longed to slip inside his suit jacket and wrap yourself around him. But you knew, you knew you weren’t alone with him here. You knew such a thing would be too much; would push you over the edge; would destroy whatever carefully crafted self-soothing emotional control you’d been just on the verge of.

You lost the feeling of his fingertips. The shift pulled your eyes open and you looked down at his feet that hadn’t moved at all. He didn’t leave but he’d taken his touch off of you.

He was too quiet. You had to look.

You started slowly, pulling your stinging eyes up to look at his face. You could see his lips, silently waiting and closed. Motionless. Not demanding; not accusing; not judging.

You looked up into his brown eyes and he was watching your face so closely. His body stood as physically close as he thought you might allow right now and within his eyes sat a deep seated worry. The moment you looked at him, looked into his face and looked into his eyes he inhaled a breath through his nose and you caught the slight motion in his throat as he swallowed.

“Can I touch your shoulder? I won’t grab your wrist, I’m sorry — I wasn’t thinking. I’m just — we can go somewhere private — if you want me to come.” His words were so stifled and unsure you felt a fresh wave of emotions bubbling up inside of your chest. The surge must have been visible in your face somehow because he took the smallest step back and he leaned away from you, changing his plan with one sentence, “or you can just follow me,” he said in a single breath, with a tick of his face and a lift of his eyebrows.

On his mouth, in his lips, manifested the saddest nervous smile you’d ever witnessed.

You were filled with regrets for having seen it.

“Baek,” you whispered and you let your lips frown dramatically.

This was a terrible feeling. This was awful. You wanted to hold him. You wanted him to hold you.

Instead you lifted a hand, palm up and motioned vaguely beyond where he stood; sighing in defeat and lifting your eyebrows with a small shake of your head.

He silently turned around and walked further into the lounge, through a doorway that led to what looked like a sliding glass door. The wall here was lined with curtains and you figured this had to be some outside patio. You wondered how this might possibly be a private space with as many guests of this party just wandering around this area non-stop, but you kept your mouth shut when he reached inside his coat pocket, pulled out his wallet and peered inside. You saw his fingertips leafing through several business card shaped items and after a few false alarms he pulled out a small flat white card; which he held up to a spot above the door.

It beeped and the door clicked as a lock disengaged and he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Outside was exactly as you had thought. A tiny guest patio with a single two person sized lounge chair.

You stood out here with your arms hung at your side watching him busy himself with dusting off the cushion of the seat and after he was sure it was clean enough he stood up straight and looked at you, one hand still holding the white card and the other hand motioning toward the seat; instructing you to sit down.

“What’s that?” You asked without moving your hands.

“A key,” he said flatly.

“Why does it open that door?”

“Master key.”

“Baek,” your head dipped and you blinked in his direction. He wasn’t giving you whole answers. Instead of speaking though, he opened his jaw and bit down on his bottom lip, breathing in a deep breath with a deep squint forming on his eyes as he looked off in the distance. After a few seconds he slowly exhaled the breath and he gave up on standing; lowering himself onto the seat.

“My key,” he said softly with his jaw hung upon after the final syllable. He inhaled again, “my hotel.”

You watched his face for signs of truth. You did not think it was possible for him to continue to surprise you with these bombshells again and again, but here he was sitting before you, a genuine member of some royal family you hadn’t even realized existed. It was too much. Just like the mansion and the staff that followed his every order, it was entirely too much.

You closed your eyes up and felt the remnants of wetness drip down your face. From the upset feeling from earlier, apparently.

You wiped the stray wetness with your fingertips and looked back down for any signs of the color black, or maybe evidence that all of your makeup had been ruined by these unsanctioned tears.

When you looked at him again he was watching you; holding his tongue well as you sniffled whatever bits of the emotions away and blotted at your face again with the back of your hand.

“Do I look like a mess?” You asked through the sniffles.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said without even giving your question a chance to settle. He answered without thinking about the questions or considering the answer, he answered on instinct and the rapid fire response brought out the smallest chuckle from deep inside your lungs. He couldn't even see your face. It was dark out here.

“I spent four hours at the salon. Hair and makeup and waxing and plucking — and I’m crying now. It’s all ruined.” Your low-down mood had lifted some with the sudden compliment. You knew he couldn't even really see you and yet, hearing him say it still had such a strong effect on you.

“Nothing is ruined. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

”I just wanted to look pretty,” you added with a slight whine in your voice now. It was the alcohol for sure. It was the fact that you hadn’t seen him all day and when you did, you had been surrounded by people who shouldn’t ever know this true side of you. It was the way he was looking at you with the smallest smile building on his lips, looking like the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen in his suit and tie, with his super shiny shoes on his feet and the hair, my God, the hair.

“You do look very pretty.”

You gripped at the bottom of your sparkly dress, looking down at it and marveling at how even with the limited lighting out here, it managed to grab a hold of a few far off distant lights from the city skyline and shoot them back at you when you moved just right.

“Did you see my dress? Isn’t my dress pretty too?”

You were playing now. He knew it too. It seems that the crisis had passed and getting this alone time with him had been the best medicine for your rotten mood from earlier. After you asked this final question he looked at you with another tiny smile playing on his lips. He didn’t speak right away and just blinked his eyes at you as you swayed just a little so the sparks in the dress could catch his eye the right way.

“I feel like you didn’t really see it,” you said softly mostly to yourself and you lifted a hand to showcase the many beautiful features of it for him.

His smile was growing.

“See,” you pointed with a fingertip to the high slit that showcased your upper thigh; then you spun halfway and lifted an arm, pointing to the spot on the side of your ribs just below your breast where just a bit of side boob was visible.

His jaw parted and you saw the tip of his tongue brush over the surface of his bottom teeth and his eyes rolled with the wider smile that broke through on his face. He looked away, across the empty view and seemed to focus on the other floors of the building next door.

“Oh and this,” you motioned with both hands behind yourself, just above your ass where the small of your back was visible thanks to the low cut of the back of the dress.

“You’re right, I didn’t really get to see it up close.” He was still seated on the chair, possibly for survival. His hands were fisted tightly together in his own lap and he didn’t reach for you or even try and touch the fabric of the dress.

You could feel it though, the way he gave into you; humored you. The way he let you play this little game you were playing. You smiled and took the three steps needed to reach him and he leaned back casually in his seat with a finger lifted to his face as his eyes took you in from up close.

“Look,” you went through the motions again. Starting up high on your thigh, running your fingertip up the entire inside length of the slit, and even making a few strands of jewels sparkle as you did it.

“Mhmm,” he said with his fingers still covering his mouth in deep consideration. His self control even while a little bit drunk was admirable.

“And here,” you spun, showing off the cut-out in the side. His head was nodding and his blinking slowed down a little. He pursed his lips out and he did a good impression of someone who looked thoroughly impressed by your little show.

“I..” he leaned forward just a little, cleared his throat before he continued — “ahh…I don't umm… don’t think I see a bra strap.”

You clapped your hands in excitement.

“Actually!” He flinched.

While on the surface this was an excellent observation from a man who was probably fishing for a sneak peak of your undergarments or lack thereof, but you were wearing something new and you were quite excited about it.

You leaned to the side, and slipped the dress open just a tiny bit. Baekhyun’s eyes widened and he peered his head to see around the side of the fabric.

“I have these little … stickers,” you said it with pride, “for my nipples,” as if you’d accomplished something fantastic tonight with the pasties that covered your nipples so that nobody got a glimpse of anything too noteworthy from this dress tonight.

His eyes were wide and his lips were open. It took him a minute to move. He leaned back again and ran his open palm down the length of his face as his eyes pulled off of you and all of your sparkles and your bare thighs and your nipple stickers and he stared across at the building next door again.

You followed his eyes and the longer you looked the more you focused on each individual window; each space; each tiny world.

You could see the occasional room that was lit up. These were homes. You could clearly see a few of the residents watching tv; sitting at a kitchen table, reading books. You could see details. You could see plenty.

A sudden realization dawned and you gasped lightly.

“Those apartments are all full of people.”

Baekhyun hummed a response and he nodded his head, closing his eyes through the nod. “Yep,” he said. There was a sense of misery you could pick up in the delivery of that single word.

“I can see them.”

”Mhmm,” he hummed. “And they can see us.” He added with a sharp inhale after speaking.

You suddenly understood his standoff-ish reaction to you giving him the grand tour of this dress and your body below it. You understood how he could possibly keep his hands from touching any bit of you.

“We need to go back to the party. We’ve been gone for too long.” You said the words so easily but you didn’t actually move one bit. You stood still, looking down at the man who was fighting his own internal battle; sitting with his hands secured firmly in his own lap and staring blankly ahead of himself into the black of the night.

He blinked but did not respond to you. You kicked your feet just a little, reaching a sparkly high-heeled foot forward you lightly kicked at the sole of his dress shoe.

“I’m leaving now,” you threatened.

Baekhyun closed his eyes.

“You’re just going to let me go, huh?”

You counted inside of your head; completely fine with the idea of blaming this behavior on the alcohol. Even though you knew this was unfair to him. He was your only savior tonight, again and again. The voice of reason in spite of yourself.

You spun on your heels, ready to go and you’d taken the first step away from him when you felt the warmth of his hand wrap securely around your wrist and he pulled you down hard.

You stumbled and you fell and you landed with a yelp and a huff securely on top of his lap, rather clumsy and side-saddle for sure, but definitely within touching and kissing distance.

You turned your face to look at him, not quite expecting the darkness that sat deep inside his eyes to hit you straight in the chest with as much force as it did, but hit you it did. You had to open your lips to breathe through it; you had to reach out a hand to touch his lips lightly and you had to blame the alcohol, you had to. There was no other excuse you could cling to; no other reason for your leaning in and capturing his lips in between your own and touching his cheek with your wandering hands. You had no excuses you could find for why you shifted your weight on top of his lap and straddled his thighs, throwing your head back when his lips moved to bite down hard on the bare skin of your neck and lower.

He moved lower. His mouth sucked and bit and he pushed fabric aside to pull lightly at those damn stickers that covered your nipples with his teeth. You felt the sting as the glue pulled at your skin. They didn't budge much. You were suddenly even more impressed by them.

“Not my stickers,” you whispered “I only have the two,” and you wanted to blame the alcohol for the snort of laughter that escaped your chest to hear yourself utter such an absurd thing in the middle of this kind of a moment but the stifled shaking giggles you heard from the man who sat below you only made your own laughter that much worse.

”Not my precious stickers,” he whispered through the giggles that were barely audible through the fabric he was buried beneath.

When he came up for air the smile you saw on his face was breathtakingly real and when you leaned down to kiss him again you bumped against his teeth when you were taken by the giggles again, mid-kiss.

It took a while for you to recover and after the laughter finally settled you leaned down for one more sweet kiss on his pretty lips.

“I feel like I can make it back to the party now,” you said. His wide smile slowly but completely flattened out in front of your eyes. You pushed up against him, leaving behind the full effect you’d had on him right there for him to come to terms with and he stared at you with a look of utter shock.

“We can’t do that here, Baek,” you pointed toward the rows of homes across the way and his wide eyes looked where you pointed without seeing anything at all.

“You—,” he began, a full tone of attitude on his voice that he quickly interrupted by cutting off his own words.

“You.” He repeated again. You could see it happening. Dreams being crushed. Egos being put to bed. Justice not being served and revenge being planned. He shook his head and threw himself back into that chair with a force and crossed his arms squarely over his chest.

You were already at the door, pulling it open after straightening your dress back out and smoothing your hair.

“I’m getting those stickers later!” He shouted behind your back and you laughed once and threw your hand up into the air before the door closed shut behind you.

[To be continued]

Links: Can I Stay?: Masterlist

[simplesoup]

Need NEEDDDDD Mr Aizawa x Female student!! please 🙏 kabwiwkwn begging!

((I can do it but reader is aged up not a kid bc that would make me hella uncomfortable! So I was thinking reader is a late bloomer with their quirk? Obviously over 18!!))

Teachers Pet

Late ⏰

You were a late bloomer and normally late to every event you could think of that is except for school

You were always late to bars, parties, hell, you had even shown up late to your own graduation in high school but not classes never classes

especially not if your teacher was a absolutely babe

you’d tryed pretty much anything and everything you could think of to get the teachers attention. Constantly asking if you could do anything to help raising your hands and answering questions. Working ahead of your classmates and studying But it wasn’t enough… Mr Aizawa still never even gave you a second glance.

or so, you thought….

One night you had forgotten your book bag in the classroom and walked in. The lights were off, but the door wasn’t locked? You turned on the lights and walked toward your desk, grabbing your book and making your way out of the room before stopping dead in your tracks nearly jumping out of your skin “S-sensei!- Jesus you scared me!…” you muttered and blushed looking at him in his yellow sleeping bag.

“Y/n?…”

“Y/N hey snap out of it problem child”

you blushed harder and quickly shook yourself out of your trans “S-sorry sorry!- I was just….” You traveled off you had been wondering if there was room for two in the sleeping bag… to your dismay. He already knew what you were thinking.

“Thinking about slipping into my sleeping bag~? Wondering if the rumors are true? Can it fit more than one?~ why don’t you come find out~?” He grinned at your embarrassed face

you held back a squeal dropping your book bag and walking towards the sleeping bag bending down and reaching for the zipper. You unzipped it and started to climb in when suddenly you heard a noise behind you. Shouta quickly pulled you in and zipped it back up pushing your body right up against his

you held your breath hearing your fellow classmate seems like you weren’t the only one that forgot your backpack….

Kiri chuckled nervously grabbing his bag and quickly making his way out thinking the teacher was asleep

hearing the door shut you let out a sigh of relief “Next time lock the door problem child” he grinned down at you still holding you close in his arms

“Y-yeah sorry sensei won’t happen again”

“Take your clothes off it’s a bit stuffy in here with them on isn’t it~?”

A sleeping bag for two~

please leave more requests!! I’m so dry in my inbox right now and I’m running thin on ideas!!

[wiltf]

at perhaps the third shout of frustration, seven had enough.

book snapping shut, shuffling past avina, he is moving down the bus. and were it not for the continued and growing sounds from the room at the end, seven might’ve been more. mindful. okay sure, he was watching out for any instruments left out, but that jacket underfoot wasn’t one of theirs. did he purposely step on a few cds, which gave a satisfying crunch? no. not at all.

at the door of the backroom, seven gives one look at where pope was lying on the nearby bunk, clearly also annoyed. and then he knocked. loudly. thumping at the door until there was muffled swearing getting closer.

and,

well,

seven had some regrets.

the door slides open, and whilst he would like to say he met the wild-eyed look of jennifer first, flustered and hair a mess. and then he would’ve liked to say that the next thing he noticed was strewn about clothing, shoes, and other bits from what looked like show preparation. seven in fact noticed none of this, and by the sounds of things, neither did pope.

“what?! i’m busy. have you seen orion?”

tangled red hair, pasties, fishnets. jennifer clearly didn’t give a shit, or maybe she didn’t even realise, because she was still waiting on an answer. “well?” extends a hand, and seven didn’t even notice the heeled boot, until it hit the doorframe. “have you seen orion?”

each word drawn out, and seven. well, he knows he was probably going red, ears burning as he pulled his eyes up. loud swallow. “uh—you’re loud.”

eyebrows shoot up, and when she crosses her arms. seven turns his head, watching as pope seems to go through several stages of grief and interest.

“right, well. anything else? have you seen my manager?”

“no.”

on some level, seven did wonder if this was intentional, standing there the way she was. out the corner of his eye, the shoes are thrown over her shoulder, hands land on her hips, and. she’s assessing him, in that all too familiar way. realisation dawning, as jennifer seems to look down.

back up at him. “seven, you used to eat me out in bars, you know i have a dimple on my ass, and you’ve seen my tits before—this is a tour bus, get over it.”

pope explodes with laughter, devolving into barely contained snorts. all of which seems to magically summon her manager now, appearing over his shoulder. seven doesn’t jump, of course, while orion hands a suit bag over, resolutely looking jennifer in the face.

“this was hung up beside rowan’s bunk.” perhaps, if seven had the capability in that moment to respond, he would pick up the somewhat disappointed tone. “thank you!”

one more look, door slamming shut. laughter still coming from beside him, and seven turns to be almost face to face with orion. a cool and collected expression, one that might have suggested such a thing was a normal occurrence, or that perhaps,

seven was in the wrong.

door slides back open, and jennifer is pulling one arm through the suit, while the other holds a brush. wordless in the way they worked together then, orion doing the zipper and tidying the material around her back, while the brush is pulled quickly and furiously through her hair. moving through the disorganised bus with ease, as there are boots pulled from the cupboard beside rowan’s bunk, jennifer only stopping after a few feet to pull on one, then two.

she’s zipped up, stepping out of the bus, hands pulling down the front of her bodysuit to readjust. orion disappears wordlessly after her, brush placed on the counter beside the exit, with the door closing behind them.

at the click, the illusion is shattered. seven buries his face in his hands, as keiran hurries down from the other end, avina following, questioning. what was that? what happened? why is pope laughing? head swivelling so fast between seven and pope, that keiran’s head was surely going to pop off. avina’s hand is gentle on seven’s arm, insistently trying to pull his hands away.

“what happened?”

when seven relents, exposing his no doubt red face, he gives pope a very firm look. “not a word.”

“sure, chief,” pope chuckles, a sarcastic salute to drill the point home, as keiran starts shaking the bunk now. wanting answers.

ones that seven knew he wouldn’t be able to fully prevent pope from telling, as he sent one last look into the room behind him. and stormed back over to his now-cold spot on the lounge, pen in hand, book open to a blank page. all of this bravado fails him at the last second, as his forehead hits the table, and seven lets out a groan of, “shit.”

[plushienanami]

*stands on pedestal and taps mic* hello can I request number 100 and 12 for Bruno or Risotto, oh and with a male s/o if possible!

Yandere Bucciarati x Male!Reader

Prompts #12 & #100

“Shhh please be quiet. Everything will be okay.”

“I will kiss you until your lips bleed. Just let me have this, I wanted to do this for so long.”

You had a nagging pit in your stomach while patiently sitting on the boat by the dock in front of the tall church. Something wasn’t sitting right with you as you were ordered to remain on the boat. Looking over, Mista and Narancia were fighting over the last chocolate confection as Fugo looked around for some water to cure his parched throat. Abbachio was silently sitting there as Giorno looked focused on something that looked to be important.

His blonde eyebrows furrowed in concentration or one could say frustration. Something was up and you weren’t going to just sit around while blindlessly waiting for it to come. Taking one last glance at the group, you urgently hopped off the boat granting the surprise of the others.

“What are you doing?! We’re going to get in trouble, not only by Bucciarati but the boss himself!” Exclaimed Fugo as he ditched his little crusade for water.

“Don’t you feel it? Something is off…I don’t like it and I’m not just going to sit around to find out. I worry about Trish and most importantly Bucciarati.”

“Are you out of your mind?! This is the boss we're talking about, you can’t just waltz in there!”

Fugo continued to rant on as the others stared in confusion. You ignored him and hastily approached the chapel. Giorno as well stood up and looked like he was planning to make a move.

Upon opening the doors a familiar noise you’ve grown accustomed to was heard. The sound of Sticky Finger’s zippers. Picking up your pace, you pulled a full on sprint making your way down the stairs. Rounding the corner on the marble stairs, you saw a sight you never wanted to see Bucciarati bleeding out as he was dragging Trish with him. You failed to notice a shadowy presence in the corner of your eye making an escape.

Rushing over to Bucciarati you called upon your stand The Sound of Silence and put your stand into effect. The atmosphere around you and Bucciarati froze, the blood bleeding out of him remaining in place as you continued to drag him and Trish up the stairs.

The sound of another pair of footsteps got your attention. Starting to call for help the footsteps grew louder and closer. Giorno stood there, panting and holding one of his brooches. Catching sight of you, he immediately ran his way downwards to assist the three of you.

Bucciarati was in a moderate stable condition, but your stand wouldn’t stop the bleeding for long. Trish’s hand was still zip to her wrist, unconscious from what you could guess. Giorno kneeled down and started to heal Bucciarati’s wounds, his dull eyes gaining the light they once lost as they stared into your own.

Slowly but surely Bucciarati was healed, feeling the weight of his head resting on your lap. A few moments went by with the prolonged eye contact before you looked at Giorno who gave a brief affirm nod of his head that everything was fine.

The church's doors were slammed open as the others made their way towards you all. All of them confused by the distressed look on your faces and the sight of Trish’s harmed body.

“W-What happened? Why is Trish like that? What happened to the boss?!”

All of them started to bombard you three with questions, Giorno standing up to confront the group. Looking back down into Bucciarati’s ocean blue eyes, his eyes met yours. Your eyes widened at the fact he had been staring at you the whole time.

“Bucciarati, are you ok? You took a really bad blow…I just want to make sure you're alright…”

Bucciarati rapidly blinked and sat up, a small smile cascading over his attractive features.

“I’m just fine, do not worry. If it weren’t for you coming in and alerting Giorno, I would have been dead. Thank you y/n, I’m truly grateful for what you have done.”

Smiling at your Capo’s praise, you brought your gaze back to the frantic group. All their eyes darted around as they continued to ask what was wrong. Bucciarati got up and cleared his throat, getting the attention from the others. He explained he would tell them once they were outside and not in the dangerous church where the boss might’ve still lingered.

Walking outside you saw Bucciarati looking out of the corner of his eye. Quickly looking away, you made your way back to the dock where Bucciarati announced he betrayed Passione. He then asked for help explaining that it was okay if they decided not to join him.

The shock of the situation ate away at you, your hands fidgeting as you kept your eyesight locked onto the ground. Giorno was already in the boat as was Abbachio who decided he was going along. Mista agreed as well and continued on the boat, him eyeing his gun ignoring the others as if he was convincing himself that it would be fine. Narancia looked like he was about to have a breakdown, torn between if he should go or not. Then there was Fugo who went against it as he backed slowly away from the boat.

In the end Narancia came along with Fugo staying behind, the rest of you were riding in silence on the boat. No one dared to speak as the atmosphere rang heavy. Still in disbelief on the decision you heard a shuffle next to you. Slowly looking up, you saw Bucciarati’s concerned face as he reached over towards your shaking hand.

“Are you alright? You don’t look so well. I shouldn’t be asking that, we did just make a life threatening decision. I just want to say, overall I am really grateful you came.”

Peering up to meet his gaze, you let out a small smile. Your eyes shifting back down to his olive tan hand holding yours.

“Thank you Bucciarati, I’m sure we all will get through this together and take down the boss.”

Bucciarati nodded at your response, continuing to hold your hand during the way there.

You looked back at that moment as you laid there bleeding from your severed arm. The scarily large amount of blood coming from your wound frightened you. You didn’t want to die, it was too early for you and you didn’t want to go out like this. You wanted to see your gang, you wanted to see Bruno.

His warm gaze that day was something you wished you could see again, but the only thing you saw was the dark weather ceiling of the colosseum. Your labored breathing became steady as your body was fading, your eyesight as well. You heard a noise, but couldn’t make out what it really was. A few shuffles accompanied it as a familiar white suit enveloped your vision. A few curse words were heard until the sound of zippers rang throughout your ears.

“H-Help me…I don’t w-want to die-” You whimpered, tears pricking at your eyes as your mortality hung above your head.

“Shhh please be quiet. Everything will be okay. There’s no need to worry, I’m here.”

About to whip your head towards Bucciarati, you failed from the lack of energy your body had. Steadily your eyesight came back and you were able to see all of Bucciarati’s consoling gaze. His hand gently wiping the stray tears on your face.

“I-I thought I was going to die, I didn’t want to die until I saw all of you guys win. Where is everyone?” You questioned as your colored orbs darted around looking for the rest of your teammates.

“No need to worry, they are doing just fine for now. When you were injured and thrown by Diavolo, they all thought you'd died. I couldn’t just leave you like Abbachio…you mean everything to me y/n. Once this is all over, you and I can go back to Naples to my private house. It may not be big, but I believe it would be a perfect starting point for us.”

The words Bucciarati said started to confuse you. The others thought you were dead? Not only that, but he was talking about feelings you never even heard of.

“What are you talking about Bucciarati? W-We have to go help the others!” You declared, trying to get the working muscles from your severed arm working again.

“No we don’t, they are just fine right now. You're injured. I may have re-attached your arm although I cannot make up for all the blood you lost. You're still in shock from the fall as well, I would rather die than have you risked going back out there to only get yourself killed. I care about you too much to let you go. I love you.”

“This isn’t funny Bucciarati! Our teammates are out there fighting the boss, we can’t just sit here waiting for the others to do everything for us.”

“Yes you can. The boss has already been defeated alright, so stop insisting about meeting back up with everyone. You're not going back.”

Before you could open your mouth and respond to Bucciarati’s statement, lips were upon yours. His lips making haste against your own as pure undeniable passion radiated from them. The feeling of his semi-chapped plumped lips intertwined with yours, as both of your saliva mixed together. This moment felt like forever as you were forced to endure Bucciarati’s foregin lips on yours.

Finding and summoning all your strength, you pushed Bucciarati away. Eyes blown wide open as you stared in shock at your capo.

“Why did you do that? Bucciarati-”

“Call me Bruno, we’ve known each other long enough for us to call us by our last names. You saved me from meeting my y/n, I remember the distraught look in yours eyes as you worried for my own well-being. You’ve proved to me countless times of how amazing you are. I thought my feelings for you were odd, different from the others, but I’ve figured out that truly I’ve been in love with you. I’ve learnt that you don’t need the others after you’ve been injured by Diavolo. You need me just as I need you.”

Bucciarati crept up next to you as you laid there with no more energy in your body to reject his on-going advances. He scooped you back into his arms and placed a hand on your cheek leaning down to get closer to your abused lips. You squirmed trying to turn your head away from his closing lips. Bucciarati’s left hand pulled your head closer to his as you felt the small puffs of air from his mouth.

“I will kiss you until your lips bleed. Just let me have this , I wanted to do this for so long.“

Before he could lean down and kiss you again, panic-stricken footsteps interrupted Bucciarati from continuing any further. The footsteps stopped outside the wall in the cell.

“Bucciarait are you okay? Where is y/n? I can’t find him!” Narancia’s distressed voice exclaimed.

Opening your mouth to call out for help, you were stopped by Sticky Fingers zipping your mouth shut.

“I haven’t found him yet. Keep looking somewhere else, I’ve gotten this area covered.”

A hum was heard before Narancia’s footsteps faded in the distance. Bucciarati brought his attention back down to you. A cocky smile as if he were mocking you for thinking you could have ever gotten away.

A few zipper noises were heard and then you lost feeling in your limbs. Bucciarati stood up and dust himself off. A few specks of dirt were still on his suit as he turned away, stopping at the archway.

“I will come back for you once they are all gone. I love you mio caro.” Then he left.

Maybe Fugo was right, maybe you should’ve never gone into that chapel.

[writingfics-passingtime]

Playing the Part

~8300 words of steamy Loki tickle fluff

PG13 for this one, kids. Lots of making out.

CW: some swearing, suggestive humour, mentions of murder/death, alcohol consumption

Every job has its ups and downs, and every employee their good days and not-so-good days. You’d hardly classify yourself as an employee because you didn’t get a paycheque, your entire occupation was a hazard unto itself, human-resources was punching it out on the sparring mat and your boss was either a 100-year-old super soldier or an eccentric billionaire, depending on the day and who was wearing what suit.

Wait… should I be getting paid for this?

Looking around your room that you paid no rent on, in a multi-billion dollar superhero compound, you decided that wasn’t a question you were ever going to ask. The question of the hour was which dress would best conceal your thigh-holstered gun.

Today, your job entailed one of those tasks that could be fun if you decided it would be, or hell if you had a bad attitude about it. You prided yourself on always being up for any mission, so that answered that question, though infiltrating some black-tie gala undercover was never as exciting as fighting alien forces.

You gave up feeling guilty about being a little excited when Earth faced threats long ago; no one had to know that impending planetary destruction was your favourite kind of mission to help out on.

Selecting a red strapless dress from the middle of your mission closet (which was differentiated because most of these dresses were bulletproof) you slipped it on over your underwear and thigh holster. A knock came at your door as you were reaching behind yourself to zip it up.

“Come in!”

“Agent, we- oh… Oh.” Loki’s featured turned from surprised to playfully smug in a matter of seconds.

“Can you get this zipper?” You winced at the stuck metal. He nodded and approached, you turned and held the fabric up. Before he even made it halfway to you he gave a brief wave of his hand and used his magic to unstick the zipper, bringing it to the top.

“Thanks,” you smiled, familiar with that particular kind of help from Loki. “Can you see my gun?” You did a little spin and he shook his head. “Great. You look nice," you commented, gesturing to his impeccable black suit.

“As do you.”

“Ready?”

”I suppose there are worse charades to play on a Saturday evening. Ones that don’t include fine wine and the prospect of a tussle with a Midgardian security man.”

You shot him a look as you two walked towards the garage together. “You said no Midgardian wine could be classed as fine.”

“Save for one region in Italy, I’ve discovered.” Loki shrugged, tightening the fastener on his cuff link.

You gave him a mock look of shock. “Are you telling me… you were wrong?“

“Smugness is not becoming, Agent,” Loki playfully warned.

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes. “Looks like I’m spending too much time with you.”

You bickered and bantered good-naturedly as you entered the garage, which was more like a hangar but only for cars. This mission would be you, Loki, Natasha, Sam and, strangely enough, Tony wanted to drive the van. He gave some excuse about wanting to test some new equipment and spend time with his team. Though you knew it was because Pepper wanted him to attend her aunt’s seventieth birthday, and Tony had a long-standing feud with that particular aunt ever since she went on a forty-five minute tirade about how much she hated Led Zeppelin. You weren’t sure if it was the sentiment behind it, or the fact that she could talk for forty-five minutes straight without the awareness to stop. Either way, Tony was on the job tonight.

“Black Widow is already onsite,“ Tony handed you three some photos as you entered and took your seats. “Your names are on the door, fake ones obviously, here they are.” Tony pulled up some information on the screens and then commanded the self-driving van to go with a few taps at a holographic control centre.

You went over the plan, the objective, who to avoid at all costs, where the gun was supposedly hidden. There was a gun used in a murder of a journalist - the employee of an old friend of Tony's, a young guy working on an exposé of a filthy-rich family dynasty in New York City. The journalist was sure the McDane family money came from arms dealing, but he was found dead just a few short months after he started investigating. The following week, Charles, the charming and likeable newly-married eldest son of the family, announced his run for mayor.

Whether Charlie McDane ordered the murder, or if he didn't even know it happened, Tony's source said this family kept trophies of their victories and the murder weapon would most definitely still be in the house.

On the face of it, it was an unusual assignment for the Avengers. If you didn't think that hard about it, you could have just sent Nat in alone. However, the McDane family was even more powerful than they loved to show on the surface, and this wouldn't be a simple theft. Hence, a small team was going in to avenge the fallen journalist.

Natasha had been planted on the inside, posing as an event manager for a soirée the family was hosting to celebrate Charlie’s birthday and, since he’d invited everyone in the political and social scene, it was the perfect chance to enter the mansion; there’s no way he’d know who each and every person was and should be.

As you walked down the road with your arm slotted through Loki's, you eyed the metal detectors at the front entrance. You gripped his arm and slid your hand into the pocket of your dress, but the pocket was hollow and only existed as easy way to grab your gun. Wordlessly, you passed it to Loki and he concealed it with his magic in the exact same way you planned to smuggle the murder weapon out later that evening.

Maybe it was Loki's elegance or your years of training that started when you were very young, but the way you two could instinctively weave around each other's thoughts, ideas and actions without so much as a glance was something special you didn't take for granted. You both had keen senses, but there was some kind of unexplainable energy that made them align perfectly.

You never let your mind wander on nights like these. On missions. Perhaps if you were less professional you'd take a moment to fantasise about what it would actually be like to go to a party with Loki. If the way he led you through the room with a gentle hand at your waist was more than a ploy to look like an adoring couple, or if he knew your favourite wine because he cared, instead of just having heard you order it a million times before.

He kept things light with jokes and little jabs, never once crossing a boundary when fake-flirting with you, but it wasn't lost on you that it was unusual to have this kind of working relationship that had all of the chemistry with none of the awkwardness. It was almost as if it was second nature now for him to pull you a little closer when you were in a nice dress, considering you'd only worn them in front of him on missions. And so he did pull you closer as you approached the bouncer to give your names.

You spied Nat at the front, leaning around a security guard's shoulder to point to something on his list. She always played her parts so well. She stole a glance at you and Loki through her fake glasses and that was it. No indication she knew you, no special treatment, no way she'd do anything to blow this. She walked up the outdoor staircase as you gave your aliased names to the guard and flashed fake drivers licenses that were pretty much real, considering the government had created them.

Loki declined the arrival champagne for the both of you, immediately leading you to the bar. You looked at him as if to remind him that you weren't here to drink, and his subtle smirk replied that he didn't care. He ordered two glasses of a merlot from the one region in Italy that'd won his respect, passing the glass to you once it was laid on the bar.

"To the finer things," he cheers'ed your glass and you scoffed with a laugh, taking a sip of the wine. The rich flavour burst through your mouth. It was dark and deep, spiced with... with... "Cedar," he offered, reading the analysis on your face. "Rosewood, cedar and some sort of stone-fruit."

"Nectarine."

He smiled and took another sip. "We don't have that on Asgard."

"This wine is good," you nodded as you two turned and deconstructed the room and all of its guests.

It made you kind of sick seeing all of these wealthy people in one place pretending to give a damn about Charlie McDane's birthday. It's not that you liked the guy, not at all, it just felt weird to know that every person in here was the exact kind of person you hunted down. Power-hungry. This mansion may as well be a lion's den. But full of naïve lions, who had no idea two apex predators just walked in.

Just when you started wondering how many people in your line of sight had also committed murder to protect their wealth and power, you saw Natasha give a subtle signal of which way the room with the safe was. Loki saw it too.

It was upstairs, but there wasn't much cover to get upstairs. The great foyer's ceiling was three stories up, the two floors above the ground floor you were on had square balconies that let the people upstairs peer downwards into the masses. Nat's fingers adjusting her hair told you that the room was on the second floor. Thankfully, there were guests on the second floor. Under the guise of admiration for the architecture and a desire to explore the great house, you pointed out works of art to Loki as you ascended the stairs together. When you walked past Natasha she smiled politely, like a good host, and asked if you were enjoying the wine.

"It's most divine. Though, I believe my beloved may be in search of a room to powder her nose."

You would have rolled your eyes at his usual choice of asking for information if you weren't aware that security's eyes were everywhere. Even on the event manager.

"You might find what you need up the stairs, down the first hall, third door on your right."

The way her hands were motioning didn't match her hushed description, so you followed the instructions in her voice instead of the way her hands were telling you.

You allowed Loki to lead you upstairs, down the first hall. When you two were certain there were no eyes, he concealed you two with his magic. The hallway was darkened. He pressed his hand against the lock and unfastened it with an unseen pure magic and you two slipped inside. It was a large office with grand mahogany furniture, decorated exactly as you'd expect Old Money Americans to decorate their office. Right down to the bear head above the fireplace and the first edition novels sitting proudly on the shelf, probably unread by their owners. That also made you a little sick: great words sitting unread as trophies.

Scanning the room for any obvious signs of the safe, your eyes settled on a panel in the wood on the side of the desk. There was a slightly smaller gap in the wood on one side, indicating hinges. You held your hands up to Loki and he conjured thin gloves to grace your fingers, then you pressed gently on the wood to engage the latch. The panel swung open to reveal the safe. Shifting out of the way, Loki took your place and placed a gloved hand on the dial. In less than three seconds, it spun rapidly in each direction before clicking open.

"We should really consider robbing banks," you whispered as the black metal door swung open and you were met with stacks of paper and envelopes.

"Need I remind you I am a Prince? If it's gold you want, darling, say the word."

"Eh," you shrugged, feeling around for the gun. "I meant more for the thrills."

Loki chuckled as your fingers found a familiar-feeling package. You pulled the envelope out and peered inside before showing Loki the sight of a small pistol. He nodded and took it from you carefully, then concealed it in some unknown magical space close to him.

You closed the safe carefully and then your gloves disappeared. Moving quietly back to the door, you listened for several moments to make sure no one was coming. Then, you both slid out and began walking down the hall like a loving couple.

Suddenly, a guard appeared at the end of the hallway. Thinking fast, you opened the closest door to you and pushed Loki inside. There was a shout you vaguely heard before you shut and locked the door again.

"Shit," you hissed. You were in someone's bedroom. Or maybe it was a guest room, considering how clean and un-lived-in it looked. There was a fireplace, like in the office, and a large four-poster bed against one wall. In the middle of the room were two plush couches that faced each other and were side-on to the door. You two walked over to them to get the vantage of being in the centre of the room and quickly searched for an exit.

"I'll cast an illusion," Loki whispered, ready to wave his hands and make it look as if you two weren't here.

"No!" You whispered, eyes wide. "They already saw us come in here. If we disappear, they'll know something's up and lock the place down."

"Then what do you propose?" He held his hands out, annoyingly unbothered by the prospect of blowing a mission. The doorknob twisted and you both snapped your heads towards it, then back at each other.

"Sit," you hissed and shoved him back onto the sofa right behind him. He stumbled and fell with a small indignant noise of surprise. You heard the tinkling of keys and your heart beat in your chest.

"Agent?"

Knowing the security team was about to enter, you acted fast. "I'll never hear the end of this," you mumbled before sliding forward to straddle his lap. His eyebrows shot up his forehead as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and looked at him with nervous urgency. "Kiss me."

Loki didn't question it, and he certainly didn't need to be told twice. His hands found their place. One at the small of your back, one firmly gripping the hair at the nape of your neck. Then, he pulled you in for a fiery kiss.

You barely heard the door open as you lost yourself in the strength of his hold, the steady and eager grasp with which he held you. His hands found their places as if they'd been there a thousand times before, as if he knew exactly how you'd feel the safest, feel the most desired. You pulled him deeper by the back of his neck and could have sworn he made a small noise of satisfaction.

Oh no.

He kept kissing you, you kept kissing him, even after the head of the security team had cleared his throat a number of times. As much as you knew you'd already sold it, and boy you sold it well, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Were all Asgardians this good at kissing, or was it just Loki?

Oh. No.

"HEY!"

The sudden loud command pulled you away and, much to your internal mortification, you didn't need to feign how flustered you were.

"O-oh my," you squeaked and looked up at the man, blushing profusely.

Okay, the squeak was fake, but it felt almost real.

You stayed put where you were straddling Loki's lap and grimaced when you saw Natasha, still in character, entering the room. "What's going on, I need you downstairs to- oh!" She looked a little taken aback by your position atop the prince who, you were fuming to see from the corner of your eye, had the audacity to be smirking.

"My apologies," Loki drawled in his growly regal voice, trailing his hands around to your sides. "I simply couldn't control myself, seeing my queen in this dress..." He punctuated it with an "Mmph" and a firm squeeze at your hips. You flinched and squirmed a bit under the ticklish touch, trying to keep your composure but letting a small giggle slip out. Then, catching the pleased and mischievous glint in his eye, you dug your nails into the back of his shoulder to warn him off trying that again.

"This room's off limits," the guard tilted his head towards the door and you made to move your way off of Loki's lap. Instead, with his incredible strength, he stood with his hands still at your hips, lifting you to your feet before turning and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He looked the guard up and down, "Of course, good sir." You bit your lip and blushed, cowering in Loki's hold as you exited the room together. Nat smirked at you and winked before proceeding to fall back into character and tell the guards there was a belligerent drunk man downstairs needing to be kicked out. That man would be Wilson, who was playing his part as tipsy distraction.

Loki led you down the hall and you rounded a corner, then you broke off from him and held a hand to your chest. "That was too close," you breathed deeply once, then met his eye. You glared when he saw him smirking at you.

"Do I have lipstick on my face?" He asked, feigning worry.

"Oh, shut up," you swatted his shoulder. "I did what I had to do."

"I never knew you had the passion in you, Agent," Loki smirked again. You glared once more and peeked around the corner, only to jump and hold in a yelp as Loki's pinching fingers found your hip. "I also never knew you were so ticklish."

"That's not something people advertise- cut it ouhout!" You swatted his hand and squirmed away from him as he prodded his fingers into your side. "We have the gun, let's get out of here."

"Tsk, you're no fun," Loki scoffed.

You exited the party and made your way down the block towards the van, knowing that Nat's glasses had broadcast at least the last part of your little tussle with Loki. Steeling yourself as you gripped the handle, you reminded yourself that you were a professional, and this was sometimes a hazard of the job. You needed to play it cool when the eventual teasing came.

"Hey, lovebirds," Tony quipped the second he saw your faces.

"Hey," you chuckled, stepping inside and removing your heels the second you found your seat. "We got it."

"Here," Loki closed the door behind him and pulled the enveloped gun from the magical space he'd hidden it. "So you saw the Agent's display of passion, did you?"

"You wound me, Loki," you deadpanned. "I thought we had a mutual connection."

Perhaps those words were a mistake considering all the truth behind them. However, all the best lies were founded on truth, and for now you needed to convince everyone in the van that you weren't totally freaking out because you'd felt the most passionate attraction you'd had in years with a former villain. I mean... how predictable.

Loki looked at you suspiciously as he took his seat, but something in his gaze told you he wasn't going to prod deeper on this. Not right now, at least. Not in front of everyone.

Nat and Sam joined the fray five minutes later and you all got a move-on back to the Compound. Nat poked more fun at the position she'd found you two in, and you laughed good-naturedly at all their jokes. Loki was uncharacteristically silent, and seemed to always be looking at you when you laughed and instinctively checked to see if he was laughing too.

The jokes shifted to Sam and the wine he spilled down his shirt, then the conversation shifted to the next steps of what to do with the gun, then you all arrived back.

Tony got to work dismantling his rig, declining your help, and so you took your field weapons over to the cabinet to put them back in their places. As you were unclipping the magazine from your pistol, you felt a presence behind the door. You peered around to see Loki.

"What's up?" You raised your eyebrows and snapped the case shut, then closed the door.

He looked at you meaningfully, quizzically, but didn't say anything.

"Okay..." you chuckled uncomfortably and put the latch on the door in place. "I'm going to shower."

You made to walk past him but he grabbed your upper arm, stopping you by his side. Facing different ways, he leaned in a little closer and spoke quietly. "I can spot a lie from lightyears away."

Turning to look at him, you'd probably have been caught off-guard by how close his face was if it hadn't been for the events of earlier. You shrugged, pulling your arm from his grasp. "I didn't lie."

He scoffed and also turned to look at you, eyes flitting once down to your lips, then back up to pierce your gaze with his. "You know what I meant."

You were proud of how composed you kept yourself when you shrugged again and kept walking, swallowing hard.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Never one to waste water, you took an uncharacteristically long shower. Haphazardly smearing face wash over your skin to scrub the makeup off, scrub away the flustered energy. But no amount of scrubbing could help you forget the feeling of his kiss, and shampooing the hairspray from your head only made you remember the feeling of his fingers in your hair.

You reminded yourself that it had been a very long time since you'd kissed someone. You were probably just desperate, definitely a little touch-starved in general, so the fact that it was Loki didn't matter as much as the fact that it had happened.

That's what you told yourself over and over as you threw on sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved shirt. It was cold and the marble floors could be unforgiving, so you thought it best to go for fluffy socks, but then pulled some slippered boots over the top. You didn't bother brushing your wet hair, letting it fall where it wanted as you made your way to the kitchen.

"That smells good," you commented as Nat pulled some dish out of the oven.

"Mmm," she agreed with an excited smile. "Nico is my favourite," she admitted slyly, referring to one of the chefs Pepper would call in to prepare a bunch of heatable meals during busy periods. Delivery app drivers would probably cancel the order if you tried, thinking it must be a joke that a super solider was asking for a Big Mac to be delivered to the Avengers Compound. Besides, by the time it was scanned and made sure to not contain a deadly poison, it would be cold and stale. "There's enough for you too," Nat said, pulling out another plate and serving you a steaming slice of vegetarian lasagne.

"Thanks," you smiled, still a little distracted. Of course, with someone as perceptive as Nat, that wouldn't be allowed to slip by.

She leaned against the counter and poked at her meal, not meeting your eye to keep it less direct. "You alright?"

"Hmm?" You looked up, and so did she, then you looked back down to your food and shrugged. It was no use lying to her. "I think I'm lonely," you laughed humourlessly, nervously, sadly.

"The kiss got to you," she said knowingly, placing her fork down to give you her full attention. You didn't return the favour, nervous about what you'd say if you were really talking about this. Which, as long as you were here eating dinner, you weren't really talking about it.

"It's not like I haven't kissed a fellow Agent before to keep cover," you sighed a little, shaking your head. "It's just been a while, I guess, since I've had... anything... or, someone."

"I get that," she nodded, picking up her fork again. You two ate in silence for several moments. "This is really good," she declared through an extra-large mouthful. You chuckled and nodded, swallowing another bite. After several more moments, she said quietly, "It's okay if you felt something."

That made you choke a bit. Noticeably, unfortunately. You shook your head, but didn't deny it. "No. It's not okay."

"Why not?" She asked as if you were crazy.

"It's not okay," you repeated firmly, stabbing your fork again at the lasagna. "It's not."

Before she could attempt to pry for more information, Thor and Loki entered the kitchen together. Great.

"Good evening," Thor beamed a toothless smile.

"There's more in the fridge if you're hungry," you looked up at them in an attempt to not seem as regressed in on yourself as you felt. Thor looked at your plate and nodded in approval, opening the fridge. Then you looked at Loki, fully expecting to see some kind of calculating stare as before, but his expression was soft. He looked you over, probably noticing your out-of-character hunched posture and the way your head hung a little lower than usual, and he gave you a look that was subtly laced with sympathy.

Now that made your blood boil. Who was he to feel sorry for you?

He seemed to notice the way your jaw clenched under his gaze, and opened his mouth to say something but Thor spoke first.

"There's a film Stark wants us all to watch this evening."

Nat chuckled, finishing off her dinner. "You say that like he's showing us training videos. He's just trying to bond the team over some cheesy nineties movie." She looked at you and nodded to your clothes. "You look ready for a movie night."

Before you could explain that you'd rather go to bed, Thor beamed again. "Excellent, then! We'll all be there."

Thor was always kind to you, so you didn't want to disappoint him over something so inconsequential. You smiled warmly at him and nodded. "I'm gonna go claim a good spot," you excused yourself, aware it was almost time for it to start. You quickly did your dishes and left the kitchen, making sure to get a seat on a large armchair so you made it clear you'd rather have some personal space right now, even though it was the exact opposite of what you wanted. Maybe it would be good for you though, to remember that you were alone for a reason. That this life you chose wasn't kind too love.

Gods, love. Why did you think of that word, of all the ones out there. You were spiralling. Sentiment, you corrected yourself with a swift reprimand. Sentiment, loneliness, desperation.

You busied yourself chatting to Wanda as people filtered in, taking note of how she seamlessly wove herself in and around Vision as they sat on a two-seater next to you. Determined not to look at or think of Loki or romance or kissing or anything like that, you trained your eyes on the screen as the movie started.

But you spiralled.

There were these two main characters in the movie with this undeniable bickering co-worker chemistry that reminded you of Loki, the jokes he’d whisper into your ear during meetings, the harmless mischief he’d pull to make you laugh, the way his hand felt at your lower back- NO. You couldn’t think about that.

Wanda and Vision were in your line of sight from the corner of your eye and you saw her fingers lace through his, you then saw him place a silent kiss on the crown of her head. Biting down on your tongue, you remembered Nat and Bruce, Pepper and Tony, Thor and Jane, Clint and Laura. All those people who seemed to find love, even temporary love, in the midst of all this madness.

So maybe it wasn’t this life. Maybe it was just… you.

Biting your tongue a little harder, you reminded yourself how powerless you were compared to all these super-people. Sure, many of them were human like you, but all the other humans seemed to have someone who loved them.

It felt hopeless, knowing the only person in this room who you wanted close was so extraordinarily out of your league. He was a god. You were a human. Your life was a flicker compared to his, of course he’d never waste time indulging the likes of you.

But it felt real.

Halfway through the movie you decided you couldn’t sit there and see these buddy-cop characters fall in love. You couldn’t watch Wanda and Vision so enamoured with each other. What you needed was to hit something hard, and then go to sleep. So you excused yourself without a word or a glance at anyone. It was late, anyway. You weren’t even the first one to leave.

A turn of a black-haired form told you that Loki noticed you leaving, but the lack of footsteps behind you as you walked down the silent hall told you that he hadn’t followed you.

Slipping into your room and then into some workout clothes, you jammed your headphones into your ears and put on some classical music; you weren't sure you could stand to hear any words right now. You laced your shoes a little tighter than normal and practically sprinted to the gym, very unwilling to have anyone notice you were gone and decide to come check on you.

Hitting the bag felt good. It was the perfect consolation prize for what you'd actually prefer right now, but with every crushing of your knuckles against the thick canvas you found it easier to forget how it felt to have your fingers looped through his hair. The sweat dripping down your face replaced the feeling of his breath against your skin when you'd broken the kiss, and the aching in your obliques from your tensing and turning to hit the bag took the place of any memory of his hands at your waist. The aching was here, and he was almost gone.

After a half-hour of interval sprints, it was just past midnight and you were exhausted. Not knowing how you felt about no one coming to check on you, you traipsed back to your room in silence. The faint echoing of your footsteps through the hallways made you quiet yourself further, stepping as lightly as you could to prove to yourself that you were still a good spy. Good spies don't get caught up with feelings. Your footsteps fell, dead quiet, and you regained some confidence.

Your muscles stung the next morning but in a delightful way. You'd treated yourself to another hot shower when you got back to your room, so this morning it would probably be best to have an icy one.

As the cold water hit your skin, you felt okay again. The boxing and running last night had really shaken everything out of you, only the smallest lingering of lonely desire remained and it could easily be ignored. Of course, that was easy to say. The second you walked into the kitchen to see that Loki had heard you coming and poured you a coffee you felt a tug at your chest.

His hands closed around the mug to pass it to you and you remembered how his fingers had closed around your waist. He smiled good morning and you remembered how his lips felt against yours. Holding it all in, you smiled and took the coffee, then proceeded to have a short conversation with him like a normal person would. He made jokes about last night, but not about that, and you chuckled at them. After perhaps too short a time for how long you usually chatted, you excused yourself to go do some paperwork. You caught the way his brow furrowed a little, but he didn't question you.

The next few days were more or less like this. You'd try to engage with Loki normally but spiral a little more, convincing yourself that the more you continued like you always had, the more normal things would be again. But he was just so... beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful and now you couldn't help but notice.

One evening, nearly a week after you'd kissed, you were having a bit of a vulnerable day and you walked into the kitchen for some ice cream. Loki had just finished cleaning up after his dinner and turned to say hello, but you couldn't do it. You just turned and walked right back out again. He called after you but you didn't stop. It's not like you were going to cry in front of him, but you just couldn't do this right now.

Seeking refuge in your bedroom, you shut the door and slid down to the floor with your back against it. An immediate soft knock frustrated you, especially knowing who it probably was. You sighed and stood.

“Hey,” you greeted Loki with a nod when you opened the door, immediately turning away to make it look like you were about to do something else. “What’s up?”

Loki stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, which made you stop and give him your attention. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied.

He squinted for the faintest second and smiled a little sadly. “Light years,” he reminded you how he could spot a lie without harshly calling you out. It pained you that he didn’t. That his lack of sarcasm indicated that he saw you as a bit fragile right now.

You sighed a little and ducked your head to the side, conceding the point. “I’m a little haywire,” you admitted. “I think I need to get some stress out and go to sleep.”

”What troubles you?”

Ah. What a question.

You didn’t want to shut him out, but you certainly didn’t know how to explain that one simple kiss undercover had brought a massive crashing wave of insecurity and anxiety that made you feel completely unlovable. Or... maybe you could just say that?

You were silent for so long that Loki spoke again.

“I’d like to offer my apologies,” he said very diplomatically. “If I overstepped the bounds of our relationship.”

“I’m the one that made you kiss me,” you winced. “I should be apologising.”

”I didn’t mean that,” Loki shook his head. “I meant after, when we returned. When I cornered you.”

You had to laugh. “You didn’t corner me, Loki. I appreciate you wanting to make me feel better but you have nothing to apologise for.”

”Very well. But you didn’t make me,” he replied firmly.

“I know, I know…” you rolled your eyes. “A god submits to no one, I just meant that I put you in a situation that I shouldn’t have. Believe me, I’m paying the price.”

That last part came out a little faster than you’d intended it to. In fact, you didn’t really mean to say that last part out loud at all. Or maybe you did. What a perfect Freudian Slip. Quickly collecting yourself, you spotted your headphones and went to pick them up but noticed that Loki was taking slow steps towards you.

”Paying the price?” He asked carefully. You stopped and folded your arms, shrugging.

“People poke fun, you know.” You bit your tongue. Then, you saw him smirk a little. Ah. Lightyears.

“I thought we had a mutual connection,“ he raised his eyebrows, teasing you with your joke from That Night. You gave him a firm stare, but couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t that far away now.

“Loki, that was-“

“A thinly veiled truth,” he interjected, leaving no room for debate. He also left very little room between the two of you. You opened your mouth to respond, seemed to not be able to, and he smirked at your speechlessness.

"Y-you can't." You shook your head. "There's no way."

"There's no way, what?" A smiled tugged at his lips at the way your eyes widened when he took a strand of your hair and wrapped it once around his finger.

"... Mutual?"

“Now that we won’t be interrupted…” he brought his hand up next to his face, flourished it, and you heard your door’s lock click shut. You held your breath as a mischievous grin graced his lips.

Oh gods, you were looking at his lips. You couldn't seem to look away.

He lowered his voice to a gruff whisper. “Might we finish what we started?”

With the smallest nod of your head, he immediately ducked his head to press his lips against yours. Your small noise of surprise made him pull away for a second and grin, before he playfully growled and lifted you from the ground. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he walked a few steps and firmly shoved your back against the wall. Your breath hitched as his hand found that place at the back of your neck, and this time, you kissed him. Eagerly, hungrily, feeling so overwhelmingly euphoric that this was even happening.

It had to be a dream, you thought as his lips trailed along your jawline, his hot breath hit your neck and his strong unwavering arms kept you above the ground and level with his gaze. He kissed you not just like a god or a great lover - he kissed you like he wanted you. Like he‘d also been waiting to do this for an unspeakable amount of time. It felt like relief.

Pulling you both back from the wall, Loki's lips didn’t relent as your fingers tangled once again in his hair. He walked backwards and found his seat on the end of your bed, sitting with you in his lap as he had at the party.

“Gods, you enrapture me,“ he pulled away, a little breathless. He grinned and his eyes were hazy. He looked at you intensely before looking back at your lips, subconsciously slipping out his tongue to wet his own. Before you could respond, he was kissing you again. You could have melted into his touch. In fact, you were fairly certain you just might.

He leaned back and you both fell onto the bed, you on top of him. You laughed at the sudden impact and you pulled away for a few seconds to catch your breath. You looked at his adoring gaze and blushed. “I never thought someone like you could want someone like me.”

He furrowed his brow, unsure if you were about to reference his nefarious past.

”You’re so… mighty. You’re a Prince, a god, you’re wickedly smart and powerful and… and I’m just a human.”

“Watch your tongue,” Loki scolded somewhat seriously and held you a little tighter. “Don’t speak of yourself as if you’re insignificant.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, giving him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, I’m wickedly smart,” he smirked and you playfully swatted at his chest. He smiled contentedly and ran his hands firmly down your sides to settle at your hips. It was an innocent romantic gesture, one to position you for further making-out with Loki, but your eyes widened at the memory of his discovery the previous weekend and the assumption that the God of Mischief was about to turn the tables.

Unluckily for you, your flustered expression rendered it a self-fulfilling prophesy.

“Loki…” You warned as you saw the glint in his eye.

“That’s right…” His smirk widened to a devilish grin.

”How about you keep kissing me, huh?” You laughed nervously and leaned in closer. Loki laughed and nodded, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your neck as you pressed your lips to his. Once your arms were around his neck, he deepened the kiss and rolled over, putting you underneath him. Still on the edge of the bed, your feet barely skimmed the floor. Then, he suddenly became the classic Loki you knew.

“Mmmhmhm!” You whined and giggled a little into the kiss as the fingers belonging to his arm around your waist started ever so gently scratching at your side. “Mmnnoho!” You broke away and gave him a pouting look. He lifted his head and smirked.

Gods. He’d never looked so unspeakably hot.

Messy curls framing his face, that look he gave you that said You’re In Trouble in his distinct Loki way, mixed with the desire in his piercing blue eyes; you’d gladly endure his torture if it meant he looked at you like that.

But maybe that’s because you had no idea what was coming.

“Darling,” he cocked his head and kissed your cheek before kissing just below your ear. “I am the God of Mischief….“ he kissed your neck in a way that you were sure was intended to tickle. You giggled and bit your lip. “And now that I've got my hands on you, you simply cannot expect me to not exploit this little weakness to its fullest extent.”

“L-Loki!” You blushed at the very real threat and he chuckled.

“How about you guide me, hmm? Where should I start?”

“I’m not playing this game,” you laughed nervously, squirming a bit underneath him and resting your hands on his shoulders to push away the ticklish kisses.

“Aw, come now,” he lifted his head and that same beautiful smirk made your heart beat quick. His hand behind your neck slid down under your shoulder blade until it sat at your upper ribs. You stole a glance down to where it may be, even though you couldn’t see it. He cocked his head again. “No? Alright, I’ll choose.” With a wink his thumb slipped around the side and up into the hollow under your arm.

“LOKI!” You gasped, clamped your arm down from instinct and immediately started squirming and giggling, even though his thumb wasn’t even moving. He grinned again and kissed your lips once more.

“You've been down all week, love. Let's have a bit of fun,” he whispered, then sprang his hand at your waist into action, scratching and grabbing at the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You gasped again and started laughing softly, then squeaked when his thumb started wiggling into the hollow under your arm.

"NOHOHO!" You shut your eyes and then squealed loudly when his fingers underneath you began clawing into the back of your uppermost ribs. Damnit, you thought he may start easy on you, not go for three different places at once. You were already in a desperate cackle, bubbling incoherent pleas spilling from your lips as you writhed underneath his amused self.

"I'm honestly delighted you're so ticklish," Loki teased with a chuckle. "It's adorable, really. So professional all the time, yet..." He finished his sentence by intensifying his touch and speed at all three sites of attack, drawing a small shriek from your laughing lips and a jolt from your body. "Has it always been this easy to undo you?"

“OHMYGOHOD!” You shrieked, throwing your head against the bed and trying to buck your upper body against him to no avail. He paused his torture and kissed you deeply again, lips curled into a smile as he pressed his lips to yours. You shook your head and broke away, still laughing. “Youhou’re ridiculous! We were hahaving such a nice moment and y-you ruined ihit,” you whimpered. He kissed to again to silence your complaints.

“What did you expect?”

“I-I expected a nice romantic moment!” You laughed and brought both arms between you and him to shove at his shoulders. “Now,” you gave him a stern look. “Do you want to tickle me, or kiss me? You can only choose one.”

He scoffed. “I don’t do ultimatums, darling.”

“You do now.”

“Bold.“ He stuck his tongue against his cheek then ducked his head to the side in consideration. He then looked at your face, which you’d been attempting to hold in some semblance of a firm glare. He lowered his lips to your ear and you heard him chuckle once. “Far too bold for someone so ticklish.”

He whipped his arms out from under you and pressed his weight down again, trapping your arms between your bodies as he clawed into the front and sides of your lowest ribs.

“NOHOAHAH!” You immediately fell into desperate belly-laughter as his fingers drilled and clawed into the spaces between your bones. Your feet kicked helplessly, merely grazing the ground as laughter kept spilling from you. “NOHO! NO! LOKIHI I CAHAN’T!” He shifted his hands further up your ribcage and snuck his fingers around to dig in at the back and, after one more shriek, your laughter went silent. It was trapped in your chest as his squeezing and vibrating fingers found every sensitive space on your ribs that made you want to melt into a little puddle. You were gasping for air by the time he halted his attack, squeaking and wheezing as you tried to regain your breath.

It was torture, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you if it was worth enduring to have him this close. If he could spot a lie from lightyears away, how much easier could he spot it when he was close enough for you to see the flecks of green in his eyes.

”You’re… you’re gonna kill me,” you hiccoughed. He smirked and leaned in for another kiss. “Nuh-uh,” you pulled your finger up as much as you could from where your arms were trapped. “You made your choice.”

He grinned and slid his hands down your sides with a wink, "Oh? Then I'll gladly continue."

"W-w-wait! I dihidn't th-WAHAIT!"

His thumbs drilled relentlessly into your hips as Loki joined in with your loud laughter. You finally managed to wiggle your arms out from where they were trapped at your chest, shooting them down to grab at his fingers. Your feet having no traction and his near entire weight pressing you to the bed made it impossible to buck or lift any part of your torso, so you were completely trapped with nowhere to go as he gripped and grabbed at the skin of your hips, kneading at the pressure points that made you squeak and squirm beneath him.

When he tired of your fingers trying to grab his, he did a devilish swift lift of his own body and slotted his hands between the two of you, settling them palms-down over the majority of your belly. You made a huge gasping noise and started frantically giggling and squealing even before he'd moved his hands. You shook your head and begged for him to kiss you instead, nervous high-pitched giggles interlacing your words.

"N-noho, Loki just kihiss me, kiss me plehease! PLEASE!" You squeaked, cupping his cheeks and gently pulling him towards you. He chuckled and grinned, gently digging a few fingers in just once. You thrashed and renewed your struggling and squealing efforts. "Dohon't you DAHARE! I won't kiss you agahain if you do this!" You threatened. He cocked his head and leaned in a little closer to look deep into your eyes. Then, he grinned and whispered:

"Lightyears."

You thought for certain you'd pass out from laughter when Loki's fingers sprang into action and rippled against your hypersensitive stomach. You laughed loudly, completely powerless to stop his fingers from digging in wherever they pleased. After not much time at all, your laughter went silent and you weakly batted at his shoulders, sides, face, anything your hands could find for themselves since your eyes were shut so tight. Any words your brain even began to think of forming got lost as laughter ripped through your chest from the electric intensity of his fingers against your body.

When your hands finally found both sides of his face, you used all the energy you had left to press your laughing lips against his and, finally, he relented. You fell back with a loud gasp as he retracted his hands with an amused chuckle and took his weight mostly off you, propping himself up with a hand planted either side of your head.

"Alright there, darling?" He teased as you coughed weakly and wiped the tears of mirth from your cheeks. You gave him a scowl, but he found it adorable.

"Thihis isn't fair," you crossed your arms defiantly.

"No?" He smirked. "Pray tell, my love. What isn't fair?"

Oh. My love. His love.

That took any breath you'd managed to get back in your lungs.

"Y-you... you..." But your words were lost in the bliss of being his. He seemed to quickly understand how his words touched your heart, and it softened his teasing demeanour, and softened his smirk into a smile. "You found my worst spots so soon," you managed to murmur through rosy cheeks.

"Was only a matter of time."

"But now you have the upper hand."

"Dear heart, this isn't a struggle for power," he laughed heartily. "I do not seek to rule over you. Anything you ask of me, anything in the Nine Realms, I will give to you."

"Tell me where you're ticklish."

He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before falling down beside you. He hummed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you as close as you could be.

"Anything but that."

[mandoalorian]

Chicken Nuggets [Marcus Moreno x F!Reader] *SMUT*

Summary: Marcus is back on the dating scene for the first time since his wife passed. Tonight is the night, and he’s a little insecure, but he hopes he can show you how much you mean to him.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, car sex!!!, male receiving oral/road head (do not try at home!!), food mention, alcohol mention, feelings, tooth rotting fluff, Marcus is so adorable I’m gonna cry.

Word count: 2000>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED! ✨

Masterlist

Marcus Moreno was a gentleman. He was caring, and affectionate -- and unlike any other guy  you had ever been with, he was an excellent listener. He’d always ask about your day and he loved to find out quirky little facts about you. It always made you smile when he brought up a menial piece of information that you told him in passing conversation weeks ago. He made you feel cared for, and important.

Marcus was completely and utterly smitten with you. He hadn’t been with anyone since his ex-wife, who had passed away two years ago. Getting over the heartbreak alongside his daughter wasn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemy. But he was getting there. And with you by his side, your company seemed to make things just that little bit easier. He wouldn’t trade you for the world.

So it was your fifth date, and Marcus felt as though he was finally ready to get intimate with you. Both you and him had discussed sex, and he knew it was something you wanted, but you would always reassure him that there was absolutely no pressure and you were fine waiting until he was ready. Marcus Moreno was too good of a man to just let go for that reason.

It was Saturday night and you had decided to meet him at the small Italian restaurant located on the coastline. It was the most perfect, romantic destination for a date. Marcus was always punctual, arriving at least fifteen minutes early no matter the reason. But to your surprise, not this time. He was so nervous, knowing that tonight would be the night. He’d cut himself shaving, he’d drowned himself in cologne and he tried to put in contacts but they’d somehow slipped out of his eye and landed in the sink, all mushed up and ruined. So he was back to doting his thick rimmed glasses that you adored. He was only five minutes late, and you didn’t mind too much, already cracking into the bottle of red wine. His smile when his gaze locked onto you was enough to fill your body with fuzzy butterflies. He presented you with a bouquet of roses and tried to hide the blush that crossed his cheeks.

“Hi,” he said nervously. He looked down when you pressed a gentle kiss over his lips. “Wow, everything smells so good,” he acknowledged as he sat down opposite you. “What do you think you’ll order?”

“Maybe the pasta,” you returned, checking the menu. “What about you?”

“Well, I promised Missy I’d bring her a slice of pizza home, so…” Marcus admitted and you giggled. Hating your laugh, you brought your hands to your face and covered your mouth. Marcus noticed immediately and took your hands, brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. “Don’t hide yourself from me,” he cooed, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes. “You’re beautiful.”

You bit your lip and felt your cheeks flush under his sweet words. You didn’t know what it was -- perhaps the adrenaline of knowing what was to come after dinner, but his touch alone was enough to drive a bolt of anticipation through your core. You swallowed, losing your appetite for pasta and beginning to crave something else. He didn’t let go of your hands once, his fingers carefully tracing comforting circles into your skin as he gazed into your eyes and admired your beauty. 

“Marcus…” you whispered, pushing your thighs together as you felt arousal begin to pool between your legs.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t turned on too, if the tent in his pants was anything to judge by. “Yes?” he answered almost immediately, hating the way the word left his lips. He prayed the desperation that dripped from his tongue wasn’t evident to you.

“I… we… could get dinner later, if you wanted.” you suggested.

Marcus knew exactly what you meant, but he hadn’t realised it would be happening so soon. Nervous but excited, he bit his lower lip and nodded his head, a twinkle of lust sparkling in his honey brown eyes. He paid the bill, just for the bottle of wine, and took your hand before leading you out the restaurant. 

During the drive back to his place, you were feeling pretty restless. As his dark eyes focused on the road ahead, you let your hand wander across his denim clad thigh and towards his crotch. Your fingers delicately danced along his bulge and you felt more than satisfied when you heard a dark string of curses leave his lips. You’d never heard Marcus be so vulgar in his life.

“Shit hermosa, you trying to make me crash?” he chuckled, his eyebrows furrowing together with concentration. He was throbbing, but he figured he’d be able to handle it, as long as you didn’t go inside his jeans. The blood rushed to the tip of his cock as you palmed him softly. You hummed at his question but opted not to give him an answer, or at least, not with words. Popping open the top button of his pants and then finding his zipper, you pulled it all the way down. “You can’t wait, huh?” he countered further, already trying to resist the urge to thrust upwards into your hand. 

Finding that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, you swallowed, and looked up at him with doe-like eyes. “Marcus…” you purred, wasting no time and pulling out his thick length. He was hot and heavy, and under the artificial amber lights that illuminated the front of the car, you gave his cock a few pumps. “I had no idea you were so big.” you praised with a nervous giggle. 

Marcus didn’t say a word. He hadn’t been touched like this in a long time. Yeah, he’d used his own hand on plenty of occasions but it had never felt like this. He forgot how good it could feel.

The adrenaline was coursing through his veins as your thumb wiped up the precum that had beaded at the tip of his cock. 

“Your hand is cold, sweetheart.” Marcus murmured as you shimmied your fingers down his length to cradle his balls. As you squeezed them and played with them, you could feel him getting harder and harder.

“Do you prefer warmth?” you cooed quizzically. Marcus shuddered but remained silent, his eyes still fixated on the road. His patience surprised you, but he was a Heroic, after all. 

Clicking open your seatbelt, you shuffled down to your knees and crawled over the control panel in the car. Leaning over and finding a comfortable position, you placed your tongue flat against the slit and began to suck at his head. Marcus gripped down on the steering wheel as his eyes snapped shut, a heavy pant leaving his lips. His eyes must’ve been closed a little too long because the car swerved and you squealed his name. Thankfully it was late and the road was more or less empty.

“Tha- that could’ve been bad, baby,” Marcus gasped, his cock twitching in your mouth.

“Mhm.” you agreed as you bopped your head up and down his shaft.

He moved one hand from the wheel to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you continued to go down on him. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

“So- so fucking good. Oh f-fuck, I forgot how good this coul-could feel… princess,” He admitted and you smirked around his length. “Mm, I’m close.” 

After only a few more pumps of his cock, Marcus came in your mouth, his salty seed spurting across your tongue. His load was large and you couldn’t swallow it all, but as you pulled off him, and the milky coloured substance dripped down your chin, he couldn’t have looked more proud. He pulled over at some place and let you regain your balance as you crawled back up to the passenger seat and strapped yourself back in. 

“Th- thank you.” Marcus blushed, leaning over and wiping his cum from your lips, doing his best to clean you up.

“You don’t have to thank me Marcus,” you returned his smile and gave his thigh a little squeeze. Marcus tucked himself back in and zipped his pants up. You looked out the window at the bright yellow and red lights. “Marcus, where are we?”

Marcus grinned sheepishly. “I thought you might’ve worked up an appetite after that. We uh- we’re at McDonalds.”

Of course. Of course DILF dad Heroic Marcus Moreno would take you to McDonald’s drive thru after receiving road head. It just made sense. You burst into a fit of giggles and rest your head on his shoulder. He wrapped a strong arm around you and pressed a kiss into your forehead.

“You’re unbelievable,” you laughed, shaking your head incredulously. “You’re so- God… Marcus… I think I lo-”

You cut yourself off immediately, your heart sinking in your chest as you realised what you were about to say. Praying that Marcus hadn’t clicked on, you tore yourself from him and rolled down the car window, peering out to gaze at the illuminated menu on the wall. 

“What do you normally get?” you asked, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

Shit, it had only been five dates and you weren’t even sure if he was completely over his wife yet. But all of a sudden, everything made sense. You really were in love with him. Was it too soon? Of course, you’d known him forever, but there was no telling how he’d react to your confession. 

“Uh-- I like cheeseburgers…” Marcus replied. “And fries. And a cola. What about you?”

You closed your eyes and sunk back into the chair. It was okay. It was going to be okay. When you turned back to face him, Marcus’ eyes were already boring into you, admiring your beauty.

“I like chicken nuggets.”

Marcus grinned. “So does Missy.”

He continued down the drive thru and ordered a chicken McNugget sharebox. Parking in the isolated lot, he passed you your soft drink and pierced the straw into his own cola before setting out the box of chicken nuggets. 

You and Marcus sat in comfortable silence as you dipped your nuggets in the assortment of sauces. “I really like you,” Marcus confessed. “And Missy likes you too. Which is important to me. We’ve been friends forever and I just think we’re good… together. Shit. That wasn’t meant to rhyme. I--”

You laughed when you saw how adorably flustered Marcus got. “I like you too.” You admitted and Marcus nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

“Are you still up for coming back to my place tonight? Missy is with her abuela.” 

“Yes.” you replied and his grin only deepened.

“Okay, good.”

You finished the box of chicken nuggets and slouched back into the chair, rubbing your tummy. “That was so good,” you beamed. “I’m stuffed though. I need to lie down.”

Marcus felt his cheeks heat up as he turned his key and switched on the engine. “When we get home.” he promised, his cock already hardening again as he imagined you spread out on his bed with your legs open. All the things he could do to you…

Sure, you didn’t expect your fifth date to end up with road head and chicken nuggets, but it was perfect, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[bubblesuga]

G O L D

Summary: Sneaking around was never Jungkook's thing, that is until you came along. W/C: 1,494 Genre: smut Tags: idol!AU A/N: Not much of a plot here but I wanted to write :)

The carpeted halls of the new HYBE building are quiet for the moment. Everyone has finally settled in, quiet meetings happening in offices and the distant laughter fills your ears when you realize that TXT are filming something to promote their new album.

A sigh leaves your lips as you realize you've truly never been happier. Even as an intern, you feel as though your work is important in keeping the artists happy. Maybe one artist in particular as well.

Continuing on your trek towards the filming rooms, you hear a door squeak open and a hand wrap around your arm.

You let out a squeal, feeling yourself get tugged into a janitors closet. "What the fu-" you begin to exclaim but a hand presses against your mouth, silencing you entirely.

"Shush, you're gonna get us caught."

You look up, meeting eyes with Jungkook and instantly relaxing.

He releases your arm and gives you a sheepish smile, reaching up to turn on the overhanging light in the small closet.

"What's the matter with you?" you lightly smack Jungkook's chest, "you scared the shit out of me."

"I wanted to see you." he explains, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Your lips stretch into a grin, grabbing his hands to stop his nervous fiddling.

Jungkook took a liking to you pretty quickly after you started working with them. It started slowly, though, the sneaking around.

At first Jungkook never intended for anything to happen with you. He liked you, thought you were cute and shyly asked for your number one night when it was just the two of you left in the old building. You gave it to him, not thinking much of it but you quickly realized that he was flirting, and you weren't complaining.

The flirting escalated into the two of you openly speaking about your attraction to one another. You mentioned how you imagined his hands roaming your body and he described every last detail of what he'd like to do to you.

He'd send you texts in the middle of meetings, his eyes staring at yours until you checked your phone. Sometimes they were cute, 'you look beautiful today' or 'your eyes are shining'.

Other times it was something more along the lines of, 'I'd kill to bend you over the table and fuck you in front of everyone'

After a few weeks, you received a text saying that if the two of you were to ever take this any further beyond dirty text messages, you couldn't say anything. You happily obliged, because at this point you felt yourself growing wet just at the sight of him. He has a dirty mouth and you were willing to do anything to experience it audibly.

"You could have just texted me to meet you here." you giggle, reaching up and pushing a piece of hair from his forehead.

"Stealing you seemed more fun," he shrugged, "how much time do you have?"

Before you could answer, Jungkook's lips began to roam around your neck and chest, causing your mind to cloud with images of him.

"U- uhm-" you stutter, feeling a bite along your collar bone, "roughly 15 minutes until I have to make it to a- Jungkook." the end of your sentence turned into a moan, his tongue soothing the bite along your collar bone.

"I think I can make you cum twice in 15 minutes." Jungkook grins against your skin, reaching behind you and unzipping the back of your dress.

You don't bother fighting it, you couldn't deny Jungkook because you'd never want to. You would risk everything-- you are risking everything just to please him and you wouldn't have it any other way. The thought of someone opening that door and walking in while Jungkook's face is buried between your thighs excites you to no end.

"What about you? How many times will you cum?" you smirk as he slips the dress away from you entirely, lifting your pantie clad ass up and pressing your back against the door.

"We'll find out." He says gruffly, his voice thickening with each passing second. He drops to his knees, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and swiping your panties to the side.

Normally, he plays with you. Kissing your thighs, leading up to your heat before finally licking a long stripe up. Today, however, he dives right in.

His tongue connects with your clit immediately, flicking careful strokes quickly across the sensitive nub. You jolt forward, one hand wrapping through Jungkook's hair while the other flies to your mouth to cover the cry leaving your lips.

The cool metal of the door against your back highly contrasts the heat you feel between your legs. It moves, spreading through your flushed chest as Jungkook continues devouring you.

"God, you're soaked," he groans, his eyes locking with yours as his warm lips press a kiss to you, drenched in your arousal and shining beneath the yellow lighting, "you're so hot when you're riding my tongue."

He lengthens his tongue again, using the tip to find every inch of your core and slurping up the lewd squelch of your arousal. You feel your legs growing weaker but Jungkook is quick to hold you up, continuing his ministrations until you feel a tingle begin to grow.

"I'm close," you cry softly, feeling him moan against you, "please."

He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, bringing a finger to your entrance and curling it into your cunt. He's sure to meet your eyes when you come undone above him.

He feels his cock grow harder at the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head and a soft moan of his name falling repeatedly from your lips. It's his favorite song.

"Good boy," you whisper, your vision clearing up, "you're so good."

"And you taste delicious," he leans up, his glistening lips pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, "my favorite taste."

"One down in 7 minutes," you swallow, still steadying yourself, "think you can get me another one?"

Jungkook's eyes darken further, flipping you around and tearing your panties down your legs. You grip the shelving in front of you tightly while you wait in anticipation. You hear Jungkook's zipper slide down, and you grin, anticipating the stretch of his thick cock.

Sure enough, you feel the head begin to toy with your already sensitive entrance.

"Jungkook," you whine, "no time. Please fuck me."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He finds amusement in the way you gasp when he slowly begins to push into you. He slides in easily, his girth causing an uncomfortable sting. He waits for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size and you finally begin to relax around him. Finally, he draws his hips back and slowly begins to thrust into you.

Jungkook's hands are planted firmly on your hips as he pistons into you, watching the way your knuckles turn white at your grip on the shelf. He's slow for a moment until you begin to bounce backward into him, soft mewls of pleasure leaving your lips. Then, his pace is picked up significantly.

"Get up here," he moans, "need to see your pretty tits bounce."

He pulls you up to him, your back pressing against his broad chest while his fingers toy with your clit.

"I want to fuck you in front of a mirror," he whispers in your ear, "so you can see how gorgeous you look for me."

A second orgasm spills over and you begin to clench around Jungkook's cock mercilessly. He gasps at the feeling and pounds harder, guiding your chin in his direction and kissing your lips harshly. The feeling of your velvet walls around him causes Jungkook's mind to cloud and he's quickly spilling into you, a whisper of your name floating from his throat.

You stay like that for a moment, but all too soon you notice the clock on the wall. "Shit, I have to go."

Jungkook sighs, slipping out of you and grabbing a clean paper towel to clean you up gently.

Despite your relationship being solely physical at the moment, it's times like this-- Jungkook's aftercare-- that make you think that he could possibly want something more. Dates weren't a thing with him, he told you that from the beginning but it never hurt you to hope.

Carefully, he slips your dress onto your body and zips up the back.

His fingers pause at the top, "it's taking everything in me not to unzip this and take you again."

You giggle, "How about you do it tonight? My apartment at 6:30..." suddenly, a brush of shyness washes over you, "I'll make you dinner."

Jungkook turns you around, his eyes alight with an emotion you couldn't particularly decipher. Raising an eyebrow in question, Jungkook only leans down and presses a hard kiss to your lips.

"I'll be there."

[reidgraygubler]

carolina (spencer reid/reader

Title: Carolina

Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo​

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)

Word Count: 9,064

Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.

A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo​ (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room. 

“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job. 

“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching

as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.

“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.

 I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.

“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.

“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name. 

“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.

“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard. 

I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.

{***}{***}{***}

Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen. 

So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.

I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly. 

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer. 

“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.

“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt. 

“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.

“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university. 

“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.

“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly. 

“I don-”

“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,” 

“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.

“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.

“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car. 

We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.

“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away. 

“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.

  “So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.

“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though… 

The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read. 

“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes. 

“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me. 

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.

“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser. 

“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink. 

“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.

“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him. 

“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.

"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.

"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.

"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to. 

I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?     

"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party.  “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.

“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But,  I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.

“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.

“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.  

“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.

“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.

“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”  

Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.

However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom. 

He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.

I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.

Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it. 

Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway. 

I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.

I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.

Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.

I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin. 

“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that. 

I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.

"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips. 

“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. 

“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him. 

Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait. 

“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face. 

Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core. 

I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.

I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue. 

My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.

The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.

“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face. 

Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.

 My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.

As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit. 

“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand. 

“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time. 

Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me. 

“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”

“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth. 

His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say. 

“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.

“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.

“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand. 

Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat. 

“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger. 

My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more... 

“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded. 

He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party. 

“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body

“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.

“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish. 

“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots. 

“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched. 

“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen. 

My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near. 

“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.

“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.  

Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.

“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out. 

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.

Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling. 

“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this. 

Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.

“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.

“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.

“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face. 

“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears. 

“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. 

“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met. 

“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.

I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.

“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did. 

“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs. 

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on. 

“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him. 

“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.

Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.

The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now. 

When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.

“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.

“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.

{***}{***}{***}

Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.

“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat. 

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it. 

His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.

So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.

“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me. 

“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”

“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.

“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.

“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.

 “Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question. 

“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”

“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that. 

“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.

“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him. 

“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added. 

“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.

“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine. 

I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

customer service, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You're the simple owner of an erotica shop. Known for being non-judgmental, non-kink-shaming, and for providing pleasant customer service. So what happens when a certain customer asks for a little... extra service?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; non-idol!AU; mentions of toxic masculinity and kink shaming; dom/sub themes; smut (restraints, body appreciation, praise, nipple play, handjob, edging); softdom!reader x firsttimesub!Jungkook

--

“Thank you for your patronage.”

The older woman bowed politely and took the inconspicuous brown paper bag from you. You smiled at her as she tucked it safely in her purse before thanking you again and walking out. The sky was already pitch black, with only a few people walking about. It was late, almost closing time. There was only one other customer browsing the shelves.

You knew him well.

You turned from the counter and continued calculating the day’s sales. It had been a surprisingly busy day for an erotica shop. Lots of people had purchased books today and even a good number of toys. Being one of the few adult shops in the whole district got you some… interesting customers. Thankfully, everyone was too nervous or awkward to start shit. This made your job a lot easier and you didn’t have to hire a second person. It was a small business, but you were quite proud of owning it.

You heard the clearing of a throat.

You punched in the last number. It took you less than a second to record the total in the book before shutting it. A deep breath coursed through you. You lifted your head, a small smile on your lips.

The young man shifted nervously on his heels. Curled, dark brown hair past his ears. A sharp jawline, mole quivering under his lower lip. A permanent deer-in-headlights look, at least when it came to visiting the store. He was wearing an over-sized, navy blue dress shirt and tight black slacks with black oxfords.

“How can I help you, Jeon Jungkook?”

His ears turned red. “Oh… you remember my name.”

You bowed ever so lightly. “Of course. Did you enjoy your book?”

The blush crept to his cheeks. He coughed awkwardly. You didn’t look away, keeping your small smile on your lips. You were wearing a high-necked, long-sleeved, floor-length black dress. Completely covered except for your head and hands. Your hands were perched one over the other, calmly waiting for his answer.

“Er, yes.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Over the course of his visits, you had learned a lot about Jeon Jungkook. He bought books and porn primarily BDSM-themed, either lesbian dom/sub or female dom/male sub. He bought only a few toys, but all were marketed for self-pleasure. He did not purchase any of the clothing, despite always eying it as he checked out. He was very hesitant to ask questions when there was a lot of people in the shop. He did, however, ask when there were no people in earshot. He requested opinions and recommendations a lot. He listened closely to your responses, dipping his head a bit as if he was afraid someone would know what he was asking.

At the moment, Jungkook seemed to be collecting himself. You patiently waited, watching his body language. Trembling shoulders. Chewing on his lower lip. Eyes flickering, looking in every direction except you.

“Could I… Could I please try that on?” he finally asked, raising his hand to point at something behind you.

You turned your head, following the direction of his finger. It was a black leather top for men, cut high, just above the nipples. There was a steel circle at the center of the chest that would lay under the collarbones, against the sternum. High-necked, with studs at the seams to prevent it from getting ripped with use. It had long sleeves, except instead of an opening for the hands, it ended in a closed, flipper-like encasement with straps. The back had a zipper to get inside the top.

You took a moment to let your eyes roam over the piece before facing him.

“You will need someone to help you put it on.”

You saw his hand falter. He lowered it, expression falling.

“Perhaps you can come back with someone to see if you two like it.”

Jungkook shifted his feet uncomfortably. “I don’t... have anyone who could help me.” His eyes darted from side to side. “No one knows.”

Your brows furrowed at his sad tone. “I’m sure there is someone who understands.”

Jungkook shook his head quickly. “Everyone I’ve even suggested that kind of… thing… they laughed at me,” he said tearfully, chewing on his lip harder. “They told me I was weak for wanting something like that. They told me I should be a man.”

A sharp tinge of annoyance shot through you. What kind of fucking bullshit was that? To be so vulnerable and admit what you liked – that was being a man, or any human for that matter. Jungkook blinked rapidly, pushing away his tears. He had been repressing this side of him for a long time, it seemed, only revealing a little when he was at the shop. The thought made you angry. Not having sexual freedom was soul crushing.

“It’s expensive.”

Jungkook nodded. “I saved up for it.”

Your eyes flickered to the clock. “It’s ten minutes before closing, Jungkook.”

He bowed his head. “I understand.”

You winced. He looked so lost and alone, like a bunny who couldn’t find home. You tapped the counter sharply, making him snap his head up.

“The fitting rooms are in the back. Let me close up a little and I will be right with you,” you said, sweeping your skirts back to walk around the counter. Jungkook watched you stride to the door of the shop before scurrying towards the back. You locked the door and pulled down the metal grate before turning off the front lights. You could never be too safe, after all. You made your way back to the counter and grabbed the tall metal hook to bring the leather top down. He had good taste. This was one of your favorites.

Simple, yet effective.

You placed the metal rod back and walked to the fitting rooms, heels clacking on the hardwood. You always liked to wear heels. They gave you a sense of power, even though no one could see them under the maxi-length dress. It was like announcing your presence.

Your hand grasped the red velvet curtain and pulled back, revealing an awkward-looking Jungkook. He was picking at the peach fuzz on his face in the floor length mirrors. You blinked at him and he pulled away from the mirror quickly. He saw the top on your hands and gulped.

“Sorry, I–”

You cut him off. “Remove your shirt.”

Jungkook looked down. “R-right.”

You watched his fingers fumble with the tiny buttons of his navy dress shirt. He had long fingers, large hands. Small tattoos on his right hand. Lightly tanned skin, toned chest, dark nipples, sculpted abs. The silky fabric slid off his right shoulder. Tattooed arm as well. He slipped out of the other sleeve and held his shirt awkwardly in his hands. You indicated the hook to his left with your free hand. He swallowed and placed his shirt on the hook. His black pants were very tight. You could see his muscular thighs and calves.

Interesting.

“Move the ottoman to the center,” you said softly. There was an edge of command to your voice.

Jungook spied the black leather ottoman in the corner and gently pushed it to the center of the dressing room. He looked back up at you for approval.

“Sit.”

He did, but facing you. You smiled, just a little.

“Face the mirrors, Jungkook.”

There was an inflection on your tone when you said his name. He started and scooted around, facing the three floor-length mirrors. You could see Jungkook’s nervous expression in the mirror and he could see you standing behind him at the entrance of the dressing room. You pulled the curtain closed behind you as you stepped in.

Now you two were alone, in the red velvet room.

You calmly removed the hanger from the leather top. “Raise your arms.”

He did. He had nice forearms and biceps. Even his triceps were nice.

You unzipped the back. Jungkook was watching you closely. You separated the zipper and reached around him, placing one sleeve on and then the other. Your chest was very close to his back but not touching. You placed two fingers around his wrist and yanked the leather down, making sure the fit was smug. Jungkook gasped. You did the same to his other hand before backing up and rolling the sleeves up. He shivered as the steel ring touched his skin, flush against his sternum. You had to pull a bit to fit his broad shoulders in it. The top could accommodate some stretch, but it was a little tight due to his build. Your eyes flickered to his face. He seemed fine with it.

Maybe a little too fine with it.

You zipped the back, careful not to catch his hair in it. Jungkook peered at his flipper hands and flapped the straps. He smiled. You almost did, but instead cleared your throat. He straightened.

“So,” you began, voice dropping an octave. “The nice thing about this top is that it can be fastened two ways.” You reached around him and took his left arm, crossing it over his right arm, over his stomach. Your hands lingered on the straps for a moment before snapping them behind him with the proper tightness. Restraining, but not circulation-cutting. You looked up. The position made his pecs push together and his biceps bugle against the leather. Jungkook gawked at his body in the mirror, eyes wide as if seeing himself for the first time. You could see his dark nipples harden.

Hm.

“And,” you continued calmly, unsnapping the straps. “It can be done this way.”

You undid the snaps and maneuvered his arms to cross them behind his back. A few steps and you were in front of him, slipping the straps under the steel ring and pulling them taut. He inhaled sharply as you touched his hot skin. Quick few adjustments and you were done.

You let your eyes trail to his face.

Jungkook’s brown eyes were quivering, staring at you.

You moved out of the way and let him see himself. Now his chest stuck out a bit due to his arms pinned behind him, forcing him to arch his back. Jungkook tilted his head, tugging at the restraint. He flexed his muscles. It didn’t budge. His lips parted. Curls of dark hair framed his wide, inquisitive eyes. He looked at himself in every angle, the confidence evident in his features.

You stood about a foot behind him, hands behind your back. He caught your eye and blushed, looking to the floor.

“Like what you see?”

One, two, three seconds passed. Then he barely nodded, not making a noise.

“Jungkook.”

He looked up slowly, chewing on his lip.

“Tell me how you feel.”

You could tell he was struggling with lying or telling the truth. You waited patiently.

“I feel… sexy,” he said, quietly at first, but with added sureness as he looked at himself in the mirror. “I really love it.” His eyes shifted towards you. You could see them sparkling with gratefulness. “Thank you.”

The side of your lips curved upwards. You took a step towards him. Your hand curved around his head, hovering just under his chin. “You don’t have to thank me,” you murmured, making eye contact through the mirror. Those brown orbs full of wonder and open possibilities. The mole under his lips trembling as they parted. Your other hand pointed to his reflection, where he looked at himself once again.

“Look how pretty you are, Jungkook.”

He whimpered.

You heard it. Jungkook heard it. You blinked slowly. His teeth sunk into his lower lip. Your hand was still under his chin, not touching. Gradually, very deliberately, he lowered his head, right into your palm. You observed him through the mirror. He rolled his hips, ever so slightly. The tight black fabric molded to his obvious erection, revealing everything.

You dropped your head a few centimeters lower, lips against his ear. Eyes still on his.

“Jungkook, I’m the shopkeeper,” you breathed.

He nodded in your palm, breath hitching. You tucked your tongue in your cheek. His breathing was getting heavier. You pulled your hand back, against his neck. He gasped as your fingertips touched his skin, your index and middle on his pulse. It was racing.

“I know,” he pleaded, so quietly you barely heard him.

You breathed deeply. “Wouldn’t this be your first… encounter?”

He nodded, short, quick nods of his head. You waited.

“P-please…”

Shit.

His voice was a whisper, fear mixed with arousal. “I know you won’t… laugh at me.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Your hand slipped down the leather. “You’re right,” you murmured. “I won’t.”

His bangs shrouded his eyes a little, but he was watching your every move. Watching your fingertips trace the steel ring, watching your hand splay across his chest, whimpering as you touched his skin. You kept your eyes on his as he watched you stroke his abs, tracing the muscles.

“Look at you, handsome boy.”

His ears turned red at the compliment. You smiled, just a little. Your other hand snaked up his side, making him gasp. Your hands roamed over his body, his tanned skin, his taut muscles. He moaned softly, music to your ears. Your thumbs slid up, pressing against his nipples. Jungkook trembled as you rubbed them slowly, exhaling lightly onto his earlobe.

“Pretty boy,” you whispered, “No one is allowed to call you weak.” Your breathing was getting heavier, heated against his skin. “What a beautiful body.”

You pinched the small nubs tightly. He groaned, bucking into your hands. You let your nail graze against them and he jerked into it, sinking your nail into his skin. His head lolled back, leaning against your shoulder.

“You can take a little more?” you asked, pressing a little harder.

“P-please…”

You pinched again, harder. He really moaned this time, loud and clear. You pinched again, twisted. His eyes slid closed, thrusting his hips in his pants. You placed a soft kiss on his neck as you rubbed his nipples roughly. They were turning a little red. Jungkook was leaning against you and you supported his weight, planting your feet solidly on the ground. You flicked his nipples repeatedly with the back of your nail until he was squirming against you, dragging your name out in long moans.

You could feel wetness pooling between your legs.

You stopped, sinking your nails into his chest and raking down, down. Jungkook gasped in pain, lurching forward. You scraped down his torso, ripping your hands away sharply. He whimpered, panting hard. Swiftly, you moved in front of him to push the ottoman out from under him. He pitched forward, knees hitting the hardwood. You held him up until he straightened, kneeling.

His black slacks were very, very tight.

You moved back to your position behind him, sitting down on the ottoman. You spread your legs and scooted forward so your chest touched his back, making him shudder. You pressed your covered breasts up against him. Jungkook was staring at the ground. You impatiently reached forward and yanked his chin up.

“Don’t look away,” you warned.

He gulped. “O-okay.”

His dark, curled hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. You pushed it aside gently, revealing his forehead, placing your lips softly on the top of his head. He made a small noise, appeased. Your fingers slid down his torso, tracing the scratches you had made. Pink, lightly raised. You traced the waist of his pants, playing with the button. Made eye contact with him.

“What are you hiding down here?” you purred, teasing the button from its hole. You could feel his chest rise and fall sharply as you pulled the zipper down, down. The bulge slid out slowly, now unconstrained by the zipper. You traced the outline with your nail and Jungkook whined, thrusting his hips lightly in your hand.

“Nice and hard, all for me?” You licked his earlobe ever so slightly.

Jungkook moaned as you palmed him, pushing his slacks down. “Yes. Oh, god, yes.”

You pressed your lips against his ear. Made sure to add a hardness to your words, like poisoned honey.

“There is no god here. Only me.”

You dipped your hand underneath the waistband and grasped his cock. Jungkook gasped, arms straining against the leather. You used your other hand to push down his underwear as you freed his cock and balls, your fingers wandering over them, cupping him. You massaged his balls, squeezing them, before dancing your fingertips on his cock. You nudged his head so he could watch you in the mirror.

“What a perfect cock waiting for me.”

Jungkook moaned, pupils blown wide with lust. His eyes darted from his face, to the leather top, to the reddening scratches on his stomach, to your hand on his cock. He rolled his hips in your hand, trying to get more friction. You took pity on him, wrapping your hand around his thick cock. It felt nice, you against his hard stiffness, veins pressing against your palm. He thrust his hips into your hand and you let him. You watched him fuck your hand, precum glistening from the head of his cock.

With your free hand, you hooked a finger around a stray strand of hair, tucking it behind his ear as he continued rutting into your hand. You placed your lips against his ear.

“Aren’t you a desperate, needy boy?” you purred.

“Y-yes,” Jungkook panted. “Yes, I am.”

You tightened your grip a little and he groaned, eyes rolling into his head as he thrust harder. You let him go on, until his breathing became shallow, tight, brows furrowed in pleasure.

Then you squeezed the head of his cock, hard.

He squealed in protest; orgasm cut short. You spread the pre-cum over the head, roughly. He whined, pressing his back against you, tears clinging to his eyes. You rubbed the angry red head, carefully but firmly, earning a choked sob of your name.

“P-please…”

You pressed your lips against his jaw. “Shh.” You only intended on edging him once. If he continued acting like this, you might go full dom on him. You needed to be in control of yourself, for his sake. One by one, you wrapped your fingers around his cock again, this time dictating the pace. Your hand was slick with his pre-cum, adding to the pleasure. You kept the grip solid and tight, making sure to rub just under the head. His eyelids fluttered, moans filling up the store.

“What if someone hears you, Jungkook?” you mumbled against his shoulder, smirking. He cracked his eyes open as you continued jacking him off, fast and hard. His breathing was in short, rapid pants.

“Don’t care,” he whined, eyes fixated on his reflection and his cock pumping in your hand. “Wanna cum so bad, just for you.”

Jungkook, please, you thought, inhaling deeply. He smelled like fresh laundry and pre-cum. Delicious.

“Please… please let me cum for you.”

How could you not give in to his sweet pleas, his eyes finding yours, begging you so earnestly? You increased your pace.

‘You going to cum for me, handsome boy?” you growled. “I’m going to make you cum all over this mirror, all over your pretty reflection.”

Jungkook was becoming a moaning, ruined mess in your hands as you went harder, faster, tighter. His entire body jolted and he threw his head back, screaming your name hoarsely as he came, long, thick strings of white splattering across the mirror. You sucked in a breath, jerking his cock so it shot in different directions. All over his reflection, until it dribbled against the hardwood, dripping fat drops onto the ground.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Jungkook,” you breathed, marveling at the cum sliding down the mirror.

Jungkook slid down, head between your covered breasts. His chest was heaving, hair stuck to his face, lips dry. He nestled against you comfortably. Your hand was covered in cum and a few drops fell onto his muscular thigh.

“I-I’m sorry…” he gasped, cheeks turning pink. “I made a mess.”

You chuckled, petting his hair.

“I’ll just make you clean it with your tongue.”

He whipped his head towards you, but you were smirking at him. You winked.

“Just kidding.”

-

part ii.

--

masterpost

[fuxkingmarvel]

Party Favors

Summary: Cops are called after a noise complaint. The town’s sheriff arrives at your Halloween Party.

Pairing: Modern Day Lee Bodecker x Reader

Warnings: smut, oral sex (male), degrading language, manipulation, age gap (reader is 20)

Parents gone for the weekend.

What better way to celebrate Halloween? It’s a small town and your house was the ideal place for a party!

“Are you okay?” You questioned as your best friend pointed to the window.

“Hello... don’t tell me you’re hiding from your ex” you laughed trying to lighten the mood as she shook her head.

“No. Worse. I think someone called the cops” Your friend bit her lip, as she grabbed her purse.

“Look, I don’t need to get some ticket by the sheriff. I think I’m just going to head out before he comes.” You sighed lightly at your friends words.

Great! Leave me here with this mess, even though you helped plan the damn party.

Before you knew it, the siren of the sheriff’s cop car alerted everyone. Some of the less drunken students got the memo and began to scatter away. While others, truly didn’t give a damn.

You groaned lightly, peeking through the blinds of the window to see Sheriff Bodecker exit his car.

You watched as he walked with confidence towards your front door. Your eyes roaming him from top to bottom. He could definitely manhandle you if he wanted. Clearly, he was way too old for you.

But god, did he look good in a uniform.

“We meet again, Miss Y/N. You know I thought after your first year in college, you would have learned your lesson” Bodecker explained but the only thing you could concentrate on was the way his tongue played with the toothpick in his mouth.

Your eyes fixacted on the other ways he could put his tongue into use.

“Y/N”

You try to hide your blush before meeting his eyes. “Sorry Sheriff... What’s the problem here?” You question shyly, your arms crossed as you lean against your front door.

He licked his lips, his eyes roaming your body lingering a little too long on your breasts. Maybe that was your fault as you decided to dress up as a sexy devil, the outfit exentuating your breasts dangerously so.

He chuckles dramatically. “You drunk, darlin’... because that’s a stupid question if you ask me”. You choke on his words, your face feeling hot.

“Got a noise complaint. It is Halloween after all.” Lee casually states, stepping in close as he tries to peek into your house. His hands press on your hips and you could smell his cologne.

“Mind if I check the premise” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’re hiding something from me...” You shake your head, widening your door, as your house is now empty. The last stranglers leaving through the back door.

Lee steps inside. Empty red cups carelessly thrown on the rug and table. Busted beer cars on the side. Even accessories from people’s outfits are on the floor. He shakes his head as he kicks the can.

“Quite some party you had, darlin” You cross your legs from the way his new nickname for you, rolls off his tongue.

“Now, where is he?” You furrow your eyebrows, watching Lee’s movements as he enters the kitchen. He places his sheriff hat on the counter. You follow behind him.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

You start to clean up the cans off the floor. Embarrassed by the mess from the party. “In my dreams” you simply state, laughing nervously as you dump the cans into a garbage bag.

Lee walks behind you, trapping you between the kitchen counter. He lifts your chin up, his blue eyes boring into yours. Goosebumps shooting up on your skin.

“Now, don’t lie to me” his voice becomes lower and rougher. “Someone has to be takin’ good care of this cunt. Maybe Arvin Russell... he’s about your age” You gasp at his words, your body becoming tense as you fingers wrap around the marbel counter.

Lee spreads your thighs in an instant, his slight hard on throbbing against you.

“I leave you with too many warnings. I think this time, you return the favor” he smirks slyly, his thumb stroking your cheek and then your lips. You open your mouth slightly and Lee pushes his thumb inside. Your tongue swirling around him as his eyebrows jump up in suprise and a smirk grows on your face.

You weren’t expecting this for the night, but you craved Bodecker for the longest.

Always imagined how he tasted, how good he was in bed. Lee was right. He gave you multiple warnings throughout your college years. Your friends stating the Sheriff had a weird secret obsession with you.

“He’s a sad lonely fuck, Y/N! His wife left him and now he probably jerks off into Pepsi Cups to the thought of you!” You shook your head and covered your ears. “Guys stop! You don’t know what you’re talking about” Your friends scoffed at your foolishness.

Lee palms himself lightly as you suck on his thumb. Before you knew it, you were popping off his thumb and ready to suck something bigger. You bit your lip in hesitation before sinking down on the hardwood floor. The outline of his cock pushing against his trousers.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this for the longest. I see the way you look at me. Come on, take out my cock, darlin. Play with it.” He breaths in deeply as his hands find their way through your hair.

You fumble with his zipper before pulling him out, your eyes widening at the size. Holy shit... Lee’s eyes darken, grabbing his cock and dragging it against your lips before he uses his cock to slap your cheek. You moan in ecstasy as His pre-cum smears on your lips. You lick your lips before gently sucking on his tip.

Lee groans roughly before pushing himself in your mouth. You whimper lightly as his hand grips your hair pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

It felt good but so wrong. Your knees digging into your floor as you gave a blowjob to your Town’s sheriff. Nevertheless, you pumped the rest of his shaft but Lee wanted more. He starts finding a frantic rythm causing you to gag.

“Fuck—! You like my big cock.. better than these college boys! Yeah, it is!” He praised thrusting in and out of your mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Just like that, taking my cock like a good little whore” His cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, as tears ran down your eyes.

“I always knew you were good for something darlin’, gunna cum in that pretty mouth and you’re going to fuckin�� swallow it all” You whimpered at his words. Your mouth being used as his personal fuck toy.

He rolled his eyes back getting closer to his release before pulling out of you. Your appearance was messy. Mascara running down your face. Your saliva and his pre-cum connecting from your lips to his cock. You looked up at him panting softly, your thighs rubbing against yourself wishing they could get their own release.

“Stick your tongue out, gunna paint your mouth and face” he spat, as he pumped himself fast you opened your mouth fully.

“Fuck— I’m cumming!” His release falling onto your tongue and face. You swallowed him all, even dragging your fingers across your cheeks and sucking on any last remnants of his cum.

You stood up quickly, your nails raking over his body. You wanted more. Kiss him. Have him touch you.

Anything.

Lee stroked your cheek lazily, looking at you with lustful eyes.

“My turn?” You dared to ask, tilting your head as you gave him innocent eyes. You leaned in to kiss him but he pushed you back by your hips.

“What—?”

“This is your punishment, darlin” he put his half softening cock back into his boxers, lifting up his trousers and zipping himself up. He grabbed his sherrif hat from the counter and placed it on his head. You whined lightly at his actions following him like a little puppy.

“That’s not fair-! You can’t just—“ you huffed dramatically. Your hormones spiking up with each move.

“Shit, don’t be so dramatic” he slapped your ass roughly before casually heading to your living room. You gasped stopping in your tracks. His cocky attitude peeking through.

“Now I don’t wanna hear another complaint, or Sheriff Bodecker will have to come back again and teach you another lesson.”

“Oh— And Happy Halloween.” He winked at you before striding out your house like nothing had ever happened.

[imagineabrighterworld]

A/N: I fought tooth and nail for this prompt so I hope you like it anon 👀

—

Dabi had left the Nightscape for several reasons.

For better scenery, for less screaming, for.. for a third reason, and to escape his crazy as fuck ex girlfriend who never seemed to get the point that they were done. She was a phase, she wasn’t the endgame.

Did she get that as he tossed her ass out of his apartment? No, she just came back with a lighter to set his home ablaze. But the woman didn't realize he controlled flames as easily as he did breathing.

So he left. He packed a few things, clothes and whatever currency the humans were using nowadays and went up to the world beyond. His father was one of the lords of the Nightscape, but he didn't need to worry about slipping past him, Dabi was thought to be dead for ages.

More like “Touya” had been dead for ages, but that was a clusterfuck of different issues he didn't care to unfold.

Living above ground had added perks beyond escaping a crazy ex and not being surrounded by shades and wraiths on the daily. He could take on the form of a true human, not the horned and fanged form he usually wore. His tail was gone, and his scars and staples were replaced with tattoos and piercings, but he grew used to his new form very quickly.

In the human world, humans had long since developed quirks, so his flames were not an oddity. He was thankful for them when he was questioned about how he got his scars, scars that would occasionally show through his glamour. It was an easy answer, his body couldn't handle his “quirk”. People gave him sad eyes and let him go.

Easy.

What he did struggle with was the occasional demon hunter nearly tracking him down, but he always managed to turn their eye the other way. Was it testing the line choosing to live so close to a school that trained demon hunters? Yes, but he was always good at magic, a simple glamour always did the trick.

When he scored a job at a coffee shop, he was pleased to see it was a simple transaction kind of job. No one would be able to ask him why his eyes were constantly rivaling the blue of his flames or why a phantom tail would lash out and occasionally spill the row of cups behind him.

He pegged it as a ghost haunting the shop, and so it became a little inside joke within the workers ranks and some of the shop's patrons.

Opening on a rainy Wednesday, he looks around the room before lighting the candles at the tables with a flame on his pinkie finger. Setting up the tables and scooting in the chairs, he walks back to the counter and sets up the machines when the door rings, signalling someone had entered.

“Welcome.” He rolls out in a soft purr, a habit from years of toying with his playthings as an incubus. Eventually he would get rid of the habit. “What can I get for you today?” He turns around.

You were soaking wet with a satchel above your head, you were shivering and looking at the coffee machines as if they were god sent.

You looked adorable.

He leans on the counter with a growing smile. “Wet out there isn't it?”

Your gaze snaps to him. Your eyes were a soft mahogany color, reminding him of a tree. It wasn't the most romantic thing he could come up with, but trees were also very rare to find in the Nightscape, so he supposed it was based on your point of view. “C-Coffee. Please.”

“Sure thing babe, what kind?”

“A mocha cappuccino with three shots of espresso.”

He quirks a brow as he types in your order. “Three?”

“I usually get five but my doctor told me I need to cut down.”

“How about you aim for two?”

“I don't think I’d survive that loss sir.”

He chuckles. “Sir?” He asks as he tells you the price of your drink, accepting your soggy wad of cash and giving you your change once the transaction was complete. “Well madam, your drink will be out shortly, take some napkins to dry up, they’re by the sugar.”

He spots a small blush on your face as you go to the condiments counter. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He prepares your drink as he hears you pluck a plethora of napkins out of their container. Small curses are all he hears as you open your bag, he hears the clicking of latches and the zipping of zippers. You scuttle past the counter and stop in front of the register again.

“Do you have a bathroom? My bag is drenched..”

He brings you your drink and tilts his head as he debates your question. A bathroom wouldn't solve the water issue, you just thought it would.

Dabi places your drink on the counter and holds his hand out. “I can dry your bag.”

You smile, adjusting your glasses in the mean time. “You have a wind quirk?”

“I'm not a blowdryer.” He grins. “But I can still dry it for you.”

You debate his words, looking down at your soggy satchel that was only getting worse as time passed. You hand him the bag with an accepting sigh. “Please.”

He takes your bag and lights his hands on fire. You nearly scream before he speaks up. “I can control my fire, this one won’t burn anything, it's just warm.”

“Oh.” You shut your mouth with a sheepish bow of your head. “Sorry.”

“It's alright.” He turns the bag in his hold, looking at the patches and bad attempts at embroidery on its edges. It was cute. The sad little attempts seemed to get better as they reached the top, which led him to believe this was your first attempt at embroidery.

What would you do if he had burnt it to ash?

His flames were highly destructive, and sometimes even he couldn't handle them.

Maybe he was being risky to test his powers like this. It had been ages since he last used his flames for something more than lighting a silly candle or a cigarette.

“So..”

Oh right, you were still there.

He looks at you and rotates the bag in his hold. “Yes?”

“Is it always this empty?”

“Only when you're here.” He winks.

“Rude.”

“Rude, sir.”

You laugh, and from that point on he's hooked to the sound.

-

Dabi used to like his job, now it was turning into something akin to gratitude. It allowed him to see you on most days.

He had learned quite a few things about you ever since that rainy day.

You were a teacher in training, specifically the nearby high school. You were aiming for Shiketsu and had a foot in the door with the vice principal taking notice of you during their mock trials. He didn't peg you for a demon hunter, but everyone had a hidden side to them. Hah. You had two pet birds named Sweet Pea and Darlington, you had a snake named Petra and were looking into getting a newt.

You loved coffee but hated it black, it needed sugar or chocolate of some kind because you couldn't stand bitter food. You loved spicy food even if you couldn't tolerate it, and you adored sour candies.

While you looked book smart, you were also street smart, and he was beginning to believe you might be vying for a spot as a demon slayer teacher. He just didn't know what your quirk was yet.

“Hey Dabi.” You chime in unison with the doorbell as you walk inside, this time with an umbrella to keep yourself out of the rain.

He leans on the counter with a grin. “Hey babe. What is it today? The usual?”

“Just a shot of espresso this time.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you sick?”

“Nope.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking back and forth on your heels with a huge smile on your face. “I got news.”

“Do tell.” He says as he starts preparing your shot.

“I got the job!” You squeal in excitement, arms coming out of hiding so you can clasp them in front of you. “Starting in the spring I’m going to be the new first year homeroom teacher!”

He genuinely smiles. So you wanted to ruin your happiness with a shot of liquid bitter? He didn't understand you sometimes.  “I thought your celebration drink would be a sakura latte, not a shot of espresso.”

You wave your hand dismissively, already removing your wallet from your pocket. “I'll come back for one.”

“Two visits in one day? Is that a gift for you or for me?” He chuckles and hands you your espresso, taking your yen and entering it into the register.

You adjust the glasses on your face. "I figured I would grace your presence because you've been so humble as to fuel my caffeine addiction."

"It's my duty to make sure you don't kill some other sorry bastard with a coffee maker."

Your eyes flash green for a split second, and in that moment he has to keep from reeling back. Did he really see that?

The cups behind him tumble to the ground.

His tail had appeared in his brief moment of shock.  

You cock your head to the side. "What happened?"

He kneels and collects the cups. "The shop's ghost. Don't mind it."

"I thought I saw a-"

"How about I give you the latte now? On me." He interrupts you mid sentence, standing up with the cups in his arms.

The blush on your face was one of his favorite sights in the human world.

"You don't have to Dabi."

"It's just a drink." He waves you along to one of the booths. "Sit, it'll be ready soon."

You take your shot of espresso and go to the booth he had motioned you to.

The way you scrunched your nose in disgust as you drank your shot was also one of his new favorite sights.

Maybe it was just you.

--

After you had gotten your job at Shiketsu, you were around every morning to prepare for the day. Sometimes you would come by for lunch, unfortunately he clocked out on those days, but sometimes he would make sure he was in the area just to catch you off-guard. Those days he spent his lunch with you, and you got to tell him stories about your students.

It was one of your lunch breaks when hell came to toll.

His eyes were trained on you as you spoke, you were talking about a girl who wielded fire similar to him when the bell of the cafe rang.

The sound resonated through him, and in that moment he knew who was at the door.

What was at the door.

His glamour of his new human form nearly drops as he hears a woman's voice ask from the counter of the cafe.

“Is Dabi here?” She croons in a sickly sweet voice he hadn't heard in nearly a year. He doesn't hear his coworkers' response but he feels the air fill with the flowery scent of her. He grits his teeth to keep his fangs from showing through as he hears her heels click against the ground.

You had stopped your explanation and looked behind him, adjusting your glasses as you did so. “You're looking for Dabi?”

“I am, what a sweet peach you've got here Dabi~ I didn't know you still had it in you to snag such a cutie, your charms must still be working even in this sad form.” He feels her hand on his shoulder, her fingernails drumming along the stitching of his jacket. “Did you catch her, or did she come crawling to you?”

He knows he has to speak up, before she says another word, but his fangs were already piercing the inside of his lip as his glamour slipped.

He looks at you with the most apologetic gaze he can muster. Grabbing his coffee, he lifts it to his mouth to hide his fangs and he speaks. “Excuse me.” He stands up and slams the cup on the table, grabbing the wrist of the woman behind him and dragging her out of the shop and into the closest alleyway.

He slams her against the wall with her arm pinned above her head. His glamour drops completely, his scars and horns bared for the world to see as he growls with rage. “You!”

The succubus in front of him smiles coyly, dragging a finger across his scars and the staples holding his mouth together. “Aren't you happy to see me? To see one of your own again?”

“No. What do you want?”

She plays at pulling on one of the staples but is stopped as he pins her other hand up as well. The succubus sighs and turns her head, “I come see you and all I get is this. And seeing you with a little human.” She peers at him with violet eyes. “Don't tell me you've gone soft Dabi. She’s human, she’ll die just like a human too.”

He hadn't let that thought slip into his mind and wasn't planning on starting to. He tightens his grip on her wrists. “We broke up, I made that clear.” A feral grin forms on his face, pulling at the staples on his face. “I told you, if you try me again, I’ll kill you.”

“I heard you had a human now. We all heard.” She whispers, her eyes glowing in the dark of the alley. “They know Dabi.”

His grip falters.

Shit.

Shit. Shit Shit-

He lets go of her wrists and he paces in the alleyway, flames licking at his face as his emotions spiralled.

“They need your power, but you’re squandering it here with a girl who will die before you know it. While you're full of youth, she will be an old crone with nothing but a coffin awaiting her.” She didn't sound bothered at all as she rubs her wrists. “Honestly Dabi, you were the one that taught me never to fall for a human. They’re too brittle, their life essence too weak.”

He did teach her. He taught her to keep her heart shut and to leave it open only for him. He taught her a little too well, as she now believed she had rights to him.

But he never taught himself as well as he did her.

He fell for you bad, and you were mortal.

“Anyway, I was told one of two things. Either bring you back with me, or expose you so you have no other choice but to return.”

He looks back at her, his rage quelled only by the dread that was now spiralling in him. “You will do no such thing!” He roars, his flames igniting and setting him ablaze. “If you dare go near her-”

The succubus’s body transforms into mist starting from her feet then rising to her waist. She puts a finger to her lips. “I’ll be back in three days. If you don't do it, I will.”

She was gone. Leaving him alone in the alley with nothing but flames that wouldn't stop burning.

-

Dabi spent the next two days trying to find ways to tell you, but with each scenario came the same question.

What would you do if you knew he was a demon? You worked at a school that trained demon slayers- what other option for you would there be if not to turn him in? It was your duty to turn in any demon that showed up at your door, and here you were having coffee with him.

He couldn't do it.

On the third day, it was raining, just like the day he met you.

He hated the mist that had surrounded the shop, reminding him of the succubus and her promise.

Three days.

He had to tell you.

But why was it so damn hard to do? He used to be cold and calculated, having his fun toying with human emotions and killing without regret. He had no empathy, no sympathy for the lives he ruined.

But you were kind. So incredibly kind.

He rests his head on the counter as the door opens. He scents you in the air before you even step through, the smell of milk and honey wafting in the air as you approach the counter.

He had to tell you.

“Morning Dabi!” You cheer as you fold up your umbrella. “A mocha cappuccino with two shots of espresso please!”

He looks up and smiles crookedly. “Finally down to two?”

“I figured I would finally listen to you.”

“That's my girl.” He chuckles as he grabs a cup and prepares your drink. His hands were shaking, but he knew what he had to do.

When your drink was ready and paid for, Dabi keeps his hand on the cup as you take it from him, your hand overlapping his. You look at him with curious eyes behind your wide rimmed glasses. “Dabi? What’s wrong?”

“If I told you I was a bad man, what would you do?”

You narrow your eyes, but keep your hand over his. “Stealing a croissant from the place you work at isn't evil Dabi-”

“Not that.” He laughs but it's noticeably strained. “Not that.” He looks you in the eyes, greedily taking in the sight of you, for perhaps the last time. “What if I told you I was a bad man, who did horrible things. Whose caused terrible things.”

Your hand tightens around his, he feels the tremors in your body before you still.

“I would tell you I know better than to judge you for what you've done, and tell you that I judge you for who you are now. Does that forgive you of what you've done or what you've caused? No. But I judge what I see. And I see a good man.”

He lets out a shaky breath as his glamor drops, revealing his true form of scars and fangs and horns. His flames curl around him as he whispers. “What if I'm not a man?”

You jump back, hands flying to your glasses before they could tumble off of your face. You stare at him with your jaw hanging.

He looks at the coffee still in his grasp. At the scars covering his body.

He knew it.

He puts down the cup.

He knew it.

Clapping comes from the corner of the room where the succubus has taken form, her body still halfway between corporal and mist. She smiles, showing off her sharpened canines. “Bravo Dabi, I almost thought I’d have to do it myself.”

You shut your mouth and look at the succubus. “You're from before-”

“I am.” She purrs. “And I’m here to take Dabi home. Shigaraki will be happy to see his lieutenant again.”

Dabi burns away his apron, leaving him in his normal attire, the stitches of his black coat catching his eye. Memories of your embroidered bag slip through his mind, though are soon flushed out entirely when he hears the shattering of tables as a high pitched shriek comes from the mist succubus.

He phases through the counter in a wall of heatless flame as he sees you covering your ears.

The shriek had destroyed the tables and windows turning them into scrap, and had shattered your glasses. Blood was running down your ears from between your hands.

He stands between you and the succubus, his arms lit with powerful blue flames. “This wasn't part of the deal!”

“Not our deal. Shigaraki doesn't want you to have any temptations for returning to the human world. We need your girl gone for good.” She grins fiendishly. “She will never grow old, isn't that the best gift you could receive?”

“Dabi-” You call out from behind him.

“Stay back!” He yells at you. “Get out of here!” But he knew if you went into the rain outside, you would be done for. The succubus would be able to drown you where you stood.

Her body turns to pure water as she rushes at him. With her power boosted by the rain that washed in through the broken windows, all he could do was send wave after wave of fire to evaporate the water.

But what was evaporation if not mist?

He was fighting a losing battle as he backed up until he finally reached you. He covers you with his body as he puts up a wall of flame.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers to you as his flames are soon put out. “I’m sorry.”

You lift your hands to his face, eyes still closed, and pull him in, pressing your forehead against his.

“Don't be sorry for the things you can't control.” You whisper in return.

The succubus’s body turns corporal from the waist up. She coos. “How sweet, one last goodbye.”

You press a kiss to his lips.

“Don't open your eyes.” You murmur against his lips before letting go of his face and turning around to look at the succubus.

He closes his eyes, prepared to hear you scream in pain, prepared to hear your body drop to the ground.

But all he hears is the loud boom of thunder from outside and the crackle of rock breaking.

Rock?

He opens his eyes and sees you on your knees in front of a marble statue of the succubus.

His eyes widen as he sees you stand up. From the reflection of the marble, he can see your eyes flashing green.

“Did I ever tell you my mother was a demon?” You ask as you kneel and pick up your eyeglass frames from the floor. “She called herself Medusa. Silly, huh? My dad was human though, and well, as you know, they had me..” You turn around, your eyes now closed. “I guess you can say my quirk is having a very strange lineage.”

Dabi gets to his feet and runs at you, barreling into you with his arms swiftly wrapping around you.

You return the hug, your face nuzzled into his chest.

“So.. you're not mortal?” He says quietly, as if the good luck that had been shone upon the both of you would wither out.

“I'm not. It's my hundred and twenty-fourth this year.” You look up from his hold, he could see the faint glow of green from under your eyelashes. “Will you be there?”

He tightens his hold and presses his lips against yours.

“As if I'd ever leave.”

[author-violet]

The Wanted Criminal part 2 (Zemo x gn reader)

Part 1

Summary: Y/N goes out on a date with Zemo and gets to know him better Authors note: This is much longer then i anticipated, but I finally have time to post it. Enjoy my semi bad writing! And yes english is not my first language so please correct me on anything that can be worded better! :)) Y/P/D = Your preferred drink.

It had been two days since you last saw the Baron and today was the day he would be taking you out on a date. You had been talking a little bit and the only information he gave you about your date was that he asked you to wear something nice. If you had to be honest you were freaking out, so you called your best friend and asked them to come over and help you get ready for the date. So now you were in your bedroom trying on different outfits and your friend was there to judge them. “I don’t even know why I’m so nervous for this date, I mean we’ve already seen each other naked, so this shouldn’t be that big of a deal” you said to your friend who was zipping up the zipper on your fifteenth outfit you were trying out. “Honey, I think I know what’s bothering you….” you look at them with a questioning look “you actually like him” they finished. You let out a huff and gave them a defeated look since you know they are right; you are starting to develop feelings for a man who is on a most wanted list in quite a few countries. “Ugh ok fine I have a crush on him, but I really need to find the perfect outfit for tonight if I want him to actually like me back” you say to your friend. “Oh, honey I don’t that’s a problem cus you look amazing in this outfit right now, and you’re not even wearing any makeup”. You laugh at that comment but you had to admit you looked hot right now and you did not really feel a need to put on extravagant makeup so you settled for a tiny bit of smudged eyeliner, mascara, a bit of concealer and a tinted lip balm because you sure were hoping that your night with the baron would end on a good note. Once the perfect outfit was found it was time to meet the baron. “Right, it’s time for you to put on your charm and get laid honey” your friend said as they walked with you out of your apartment. You simply laughed and thanked them for helping you getting ready. Once you were outside you saw a black limo in front of your building and standing in front of it was and old man who asked if you were Y/N. You said yes and he opened the door revealing your date. The Baron smiled when he saw you and you swore you could feel your heart skip a beat when your eyes met. “Hello” you said to him hoping he would not notice the way your voice was almost breaking. “Good evening Y/N, you look beautiful” he said to you when you were getting the car. You immediately blushed and looked out the window of the car to hide the fact you were blushing at his words. “So where are we going?” you said to him. “It’s a quiet place just outside of the city, I think you will very much like it. But it’s going to take about 30 minutes for us to arrive so would you like something to drink in the meanwhile?” “That sounds really good actually, you wouldn’t happen to have any Y/P/D?” “Of course,”. He then opened the little fridge that was placed behind the driver’s seat, pulled out your drink and poured in a glass for, then handing you the drink with which you replied with a quiet thank you. “So, I have to assume that being a criminal on the run means you don’t really go out much, so why did you go to the club the other night?” you asked him. “Well, I’ve been on the run for quite some time and things have started to slow down a bit ever since that whole situation with the new captain America and then the falcon taking over, so I decided that I should go out and see how the world has changed since I’ve been stuck in prison” he replied. “Has it changed much then?” “No not really, the main difference is simply that the people in the clubs have seemed to have gotten a lot younger, but that is what you get when you’ve been imprisoned for seven years.” “It must have been quite lonely for you being stuck in that prison for all that time, I also

heard that you were in solitary confinement for most if it” you said to him with a sad tone in your voice feeling a bit bad for the Baron. “Yes it was a bit lonely but I had access to all the books I wanted so they kept me company” he replied with a sad look on his face. “But I’m out now so I intend to make up for the time I lost, and you seem like the perfect person to help me out with that” he added, giving you a flirtatious smile and a wink, causing you to blush again at his words. “If helping you out includes another night like the one we had, I am more than willing to help you out” you say to him. “So, tell me Y/N what do you do for a living?” he asked you. “Well, I was in school majoring in English literature before the blip, but I was one of the unlucky ones who got blipped away so when I came back and learned what had happened my whole outlook on life changed. I didn’t have a job anymore or a place in the school, so I decided not to go back to school and have been trying to look for a stable job but with all the people that came back it’s been quite difficult. But seeing all the people that lost their homes and jobs because they got blipped away made me want to help them, so I’ve been volunteering at the local homeless shelter and that’s kind of been my drive since I came back” “You are a kind soul Y/N which is not that common now adays...” before he was able to finish what he was saying the limo came to stop and Oeznik informed you that you had arrived. Helmut being the gentleman he is stepped out of the car first before helping you get out of the limo. You know got a better look at the Baron and he looked hot, he was wearing a white suit with a black shirt underneath and the 5 o’clock shadow he had made him look even more stunning. He offered you his hand, and you took it and together you walked side by side into the building. Once inside you were amazed by the place. There was a beautiful marble staircase with a gold handrail leading up the second floor of the building and to your right was the entrance to the dining hall. To your left however was a reception where a young man was standing trying to calm down whoever was on the other side of the phone, and he looked mildly irritated by the loud voice coming from the phone. Helmut led you to dining hall, giving the woman in charge his name and she then led you to a table in the back where you had a bit more privacy then if you were seated near the entrance. When you were seated, she gave you two the menu and walked away with a smile. “So is this place only for criminals or is it just a really fancy place where people that like to abuse power like to hide out in or something?” you said trying to sound a bit sarcastic. “Something like that” he replied with a chuckle. When you looked at the menu you noticed that the prices were way to high for someone like you and Zemo noticed the startled look on your face. “Don’t worry about the price draga, I will take care of that so simply order what you desire no matter the price”. After a couple of minutes of looking at the menu you both decided to order the veal since Zemo had said that it was one of the best dishes they had. As soon as you took the first bite out of your dish you let out a satisfied moan, making the Baron give you a surprised look. “This is with out a doubt the best food I have ever tasted; you certainly weren’t lying when you said this was good” “I’m glad you like it, I’ll make sure to bring you here again so you can taste the rest of the menu but I can think of something that is even more delicious but that’s only if you are interested in desert”. You were certain that the baron was on a mission to make you blush as often as he could tonight since you had essentially been blushing and getting a bit flustered with every other sentence that came out of his mouth. While you two finished dinner you got to know a bit more about the baron, like how it was growing up in Sokovia, what his favorite sport as a child was and how he felt trapped when he was younger because of his title. Once dinner was

finished you both decided to for go the dessert and decided to have a seat at the bar so you could continue talking. “You know the media really has done you dirty Helmut” “why do you say that draga?” “Well they make you seem like this evil villain who only has murder on his mind but that’s not really who you are” he looked at you with a curious look on his face. “Then who do you think I am?”. You took a sip of your drink, and let him wait for a moment for his answer. “You are simply a man who did what he had to do to survive. The Avengers took everything you loved away from you. It’s only human to want them to pay for what they did and you made them pay. I would probably have done the same if I was in your shoes. It’s also quite impressive you managed to tear them apart without ever touching them.” The baron was looking at you now, as if he was arguing with himself wether to believe your words or not. “Well not many people I have met seem to think the way you do, most simply say that I’m insane or crazy for what I did” “well you’re insanely smart and if you want to get somewhere in life you need to be a bit crazy”. You two sat at the bar for a bit talking more but eventually you had to head back home. So now you were in the car on your way back and you continued talking and the conversation led back to your job. “So volunteering at a soup kitchen can’t pay the rent so how do you manage to do that? There must be something else you do to pay the rent” Zemo said. “Well I’ve known my landlord since I was a kid so he’s been helping me out for the past few months and I just pay him what I can, but I can’t do that for much longer since he’s got a family he needs to take care of. So I’m really hoping that I can find a job soon. And you know at this point I’ll honestly take whatever I can get” you told him, hoping you didn’t seem as pathetic as you thought you sounded. “I know I haven’t known you for very long but I do like you Y/N, so I hope I don’t scare you off with this offer..” you didn’t really know where this was going so you simply looked at him with a questioning look. “How would you feel if I offered to give a good amount of money and the only thing you would have to do is see me once a week and you would simply be there to keep me company” “So you’re asking me if I want to be your sugar baby?” You asked, quite surprised at how he was so confident in asking you about this. “If that’s what you want to call it, then yes that is what I’m asking you. I understand if you want some time to think about it and I will respect your choice if you are not interested.” “So let’s say I agree, would I be able to back out at any time?” You said a bit hesitantly. “Yes, of course. I do not wish to make you feel uncomfortable at any given time.” He replied, making you feel a whole lot more at ease. You quickly thought about his offer in your head and honestly saying yes to this didn’t seem to bad and you didn’t really have anything to loose. “You know honestly this isn’t really the craziest thing that has happened in my life, so I’m gonna take you up on your offer.” You said to him with a small chuckle. Then the car stopped and you noticed you were outside your apartment. Oeznik then opened the door offering you his hand to help you get out and the baron also stepped out of the car and told his butler that he would walk you to your door. Once you had reached the door to your apartment the baron spoke again. “I truly hope you will not regret your decision Y/N since I think we will both quite enjoy this.” “I think so too Helmut. And I really enjoyed tonight so I’m looking forward to meeting you again.” With out waiting for him to answer you put a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward giving him a kiss goodbye and then stepped into your apartment. You immediately took out your phone and called your friend to tell them about everything that had happened. Once you two finished talking you noticed that the baron had sent you a message.

Wanted Criminal: I also enjoyed tonight and I look forward to seeing you next Friday. I also sent you a little thank you gift for the night, it should be enough for you to cover the rent you couldn’t afford and for you to get something nice to wear for the next time we meet. Goodnight draga.

You then saw that you had a notification that someone had transferred quite a lot of money into your bank account. So you decided to send him a message back.

You: Thank you again for the night, and thank you for you’re gift. I really appreciate it. Goodnight Helmut.

You certainly were looking forward to your next meeting with the baron.

[qyllenhaal]

the magic hour ❛ the devil I know ❜

Senator!Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k~

warnings: 18+ only!!! handjob & age gap (Chris is at least in his late 40s/early 50s while reader is in her mid to late 20s)

A/N: Here is a short little blurb I wrote. Next week I plan on posting a fic where a new person inserts this messy universe. Another fic for a new person will probably be coming next weekend too!

Enjoy!

7 o'clock was a magical hour. Fall was quickly approaching so the sky was usually dark a few minutes after. Most of the people have left the building and the halls were quiet.

Y/n was pressed into Chris' side, her hand moving rapidly around his length. Her bracelets rattled together to her annoyance but Chris liked for her to keep them on since he was the one who bought them for her.

"We all went in with the same plan, but that dickhead fucked everything up."

He just wouldn't shut up.

Chris just came back from D.C. and the stress was evident on his face. That's why Y/n was trying to calm him down with her hand. She gave him a temporary distraction when she first played with his zipper then pulled him out of his pants. However, he had trouble pushing his grievances to the side for just one minute.

"Does that make you mad daddy?" Her grip tightened and he groaned. Y/n hoped she was going to get his full attention by doing that but his thoughts still wandered over to his presiding anger.

He only stopped rambling when a finger danced on his cheek and forced him to look in Y/n's eyes.

"You know I really, really desire you and I'd love to shit on other politicians with you. But please let me get you off.

Chris looked at her, annoyed for a split second, and he gruffed. But he wasn't going to stop her from wanting to get him off. He'd be stupid to do so when they didn't already have as much intimae time as it was. He relaxed against the back of his office's couch. Once he shut his mouth, he was truly able to feel just how she was doing her best to make him feel good. A look of concentration on her face brought a small smile to his.

"Just like that. Such a good girl for me, trying to make me feel good. You're an angel." He kissed her cheek and Y/n felt blinded by the praise.

Chris felt like he was going to explode. it had been days, almost a week, since he had relief. He tried to get himself off in that house he has in D.C. Thoughts of Y/n flashed through his mind but it only reminded him that he was becoming dependent on her -- even to get off.

Y/n loved feeling him pulse underneath her hand. She could see the cogs in his head still turning, but at least he was silent and in the moment with her. She loved that it was her that could reduce him to nothing. He grunted when she would add more pressure.

"I'm going to fuck your fist, okay?"

It was a bit comical hearing him talk like that with his public persona in mind but she nodded anyway.

Chris's hips moved upward to get more friction. It felt like heaven and he found himself slipping away. The only thing on his mind was her, and her hand/ He opened his eyes to look at her and she was already staring back at him. She placed her forehead on his and he reveled in her closeness.

"Please cum for me?" her voice was small and pleading as if she was on the receiving end of pleasure. But seeing him with his mouth open and feeling the weight of his cock in her hand made her wet.

"Want me to make a mess on your hand Button?"

"Yes, please cum!" Her begging made Chris smirk. "I want to see you cum!"

He made her feel desperate for it. Just a few minutes ago she was telling him to shut the fuck up now she was begging for him to cum all over her hand. She just wanted to see Chris' face contort in pleasure and hear those cries spill from his lips; it's her favorite thing in the world.

His hips stilled and white liquid spurted from the tip of his cock. He grunted while Y/n sighed lovingly. Drops of white coated and warmed her hand. She still stroked him, milking him for all he was worth until he was grabbing her wrist to stop her.

She loved to hear him sighing and trying to catch his breath. There was always a lost look in his eyes when he came because of her. That familiar gaze always came back when he locked eyes with her and a smile always spread across his lips.

"You're incredible."

The pat he gave her thigh was weak. Chris looked down at her messy hand and back to her face, waiting for her next move. She still had her hand wrapped around him but her grip was looser now.

Y/n let him go and brought her covered hand up to her mouth. Her tongue darted out to slide against the skin on her hand, collecting his cum onto her tongue. Chris watched her doing something so filthy and groaned. He felt his cock twitch but he tucked himself away and zipped himself up.

"If Paul is giving you a hard time then let me know. I know one of his staffers that can put him in his place."

"Is it that boy you went on a date with?"

The room fell silent and Y/n looked away from his burning eyes. She tried to keep it quiet, but maybe he overheard her talking to one of her co-workers about it. her and Chris weren't exactly committed to each other so she shouldn't have felt as bad, yet she did.

"it's okay...you can tell me." His voice was honeyed and his hand stroking her thigh coaxed the truth out of her.

"Yea it is. it was just one date though. I doubt it'll happen again."

"Can I ask why?"

She folded her arms, reluctant but unable to stop herself from speaking.

"He held my face...at the end of our date he held my face and kissed me. It reminded me too much of that thing you do."

Chris was surprised to hear that, but it was a pleasant surprise. He was on her mind just as much as she was on his. It stroked his ego, he couldn't lie, but it also made his heart swell.

"You're so precious."

His soft words and soft voice beckoned her into his arms. She leaned into him and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Y/n was going to have to leave soon but she pretended like each second was an eternity. She still had a lot of questions about him and what this was. But there was no doubt behind any of his intentions and that soothed her.

[iamdunn]

Miraculous One Shot: Truth Singer

A Miraculous Fan-Fic Musical Episode

Written by

AJ Dunn

This was it. Adrien’s 21’s birthday and Marinette was already hard at work on the preparations. Gabriel no longer had control over Adrien so there was nothing stopping him from coming to this party. Marinette had been planning for this day for years and now it was here. Her footlocker in her parent’s apartment was already full of gifts for his next 15 years worth of birthdays, yet every year she ended up making him another gift. This time was no different. She had learned her lesson about not signing her gifts after the whole scarf mix up. Now, she made sure the item she made for him had her signature in it somewhere so there could never be any question as to who actually made it for him.

This year, in light of him being of legal adult age, she wanted to give him something more mature. She had seen him in a black leather jacket in one of his photo shoots and decided to make him something, not exactly like that one, but one that would suit him much better. She had spent days designing the perfect jacket, the zippers, the seams, even the measurements. She had been allowed to accompany him to several photo shoots where she watched the designers with detailed eyes adjust and fit him into the outfits his father had designed for him. She managed to sneak a peek at his measurements and made note of them as she drew out her own designs. 

As the jacket now lay out on her bed she examined every stitch for perfection. The main zipped going up just slightly past his collar bone, was silver. With two slanted pockets near the waist. The fabric around the armpits and sides was a moisture wicking sports material that, while it was designed to move with the wearer, was also designed to keep him cool. His photo shoot was of him sitting on a motorcycle. A kind of rough yet dreamy image that made Marinette melt just thinking about it. The stitching had been done in a neon green to accent his emerald eyes. It would be a slim fitting jacket, she thought, hoping she got the measurements right. It seemed like it was going to be too big for him. 

She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear the trap door to the attic open up as Alya, Rose, Juleka, and Mylene bounced excitedly into the room.

“Do you think she’ll do it this time?” Rose sang. 

“Doubtful.” Alix came in looking bored. “How many times has she tried to tell Adrien she loved him and look what happened?” 

“Well let’s see, She’s fallen on her face.” Alya started

“Chickened out.” Mylene added

“Gave him the wrong piece of folded paper.” Alya laughed remembering the prescription Adrien had picked up for her that had been meant for someone else. They all laughed at that one. 

“It wasn’t funny.” Marinette spun around her face flushed with rose red on her cheeks.

“Dropped the letter into the sewer.” Juleka muttered

“Oh, and let’s not forget how many times she forgot to sign her name.” Alya teased, one hand resting on her hip as the other flung into the air. 

“It’s true, Marinette, you are as much of a clutz telling Adrien how you feel as you are on your feet.” Rose laughed. 

“You are the only single one among us now, Marinette.” Alix thought it would be her to be the last one to hook up with someone until she met a guy in College. Most of them had stayed behind to attend college from home. Especially with the fact that Hawk Moth was still akumatizing people and while no one but Ladybug knew everyone’s secret, they kept their reasons for staying behind a secret as well, in case Ladybug needed them. 

“I will do it this time, I promise.” Marinette felt so confident as she looked at her friends as they cheered her on. 

The music in the park began and the girls realized they better hurry up. They ran past Tom as he was carrying the cake across the street. It was a multi tiered cake with green trim. Sabine was already at the park putting macarons on the table. Nino had the DJ booth up as he mixed music just like he had done the first time he threw a party for his best friend. 

“Dudes and Dudettes, the birthday boy.” Nino called out as Adrien climbed up on the makeshift stage and began to sing along to the song that was playing. Marinette watched him dance and suddenly she forgot how to walk. She stumbled into a bench and fell over. She recovered quickly, not releasing the package she clung to her chest. His movements were so fluid as his legs kicked and stomped about to the rock song he was singing along too. He didn’t move around this much when he played with the band because he had to focus on the keyboard. It was truly a unique experience for Marinette. 

The song had ended as Marinette remained frozen, glued to the bench as if he was still singing and dancing on the stage. 

“Hi Marinette, what did you think,” Adrien scratched the back of his neck as he looked down at her. Oh No he was talking to her, he was looking at her, when did he get there? Marinette could feel the heat welling up in her cheeks as she sat paralyzed by his smile, his eyes… “Is that for me? Can I open it?” he asked. She suddenly realized she was crushing the package in her arms. She held it out for him to take her eyes frozen on his. He tore the paper open tossing it to the ground as Mylene picked it up for him. He held the jacket up by the shoulders musing over it before stripping off his coat and pulling the leather jacket on. He zipped it up and suddenly Marinette realized just how filled out she was. He wasn’t the thin boy he used to be, his broad shoulders and tone upper body now exposed the man he was as the jacket fit every detail of his upper body within it’s form fitting style. The zipper made its way to his neck then his eyes met hers again.

“I just need a silver bell.” He reached up pretending to flick a bell that wasn’t there. Marinette jumped to her feet. Her mind raced as she suddenly realized something she should have known all along. It was so obvious as she now looked up at her friend, her best friend, her crush….HER PARTNER. She ran!

Adrien couldn’t understand what had happened. He watched her run from the park but was so dumbfounded his feet wouldn’t move to go after her. 

“Not again.” Alya said, walking up beside him.

“What did I do?” Adrien was beside himself with worry as he watched her. She wasn’t even heading home. 

“It’s not you, it’s Marinette, she always does this.” Rose said anger fueling her words as she stormed out of the park. 

“Well… I guess she can try again another day.” Juleka muttered. 

“Try what?” Adrien spun around to face her. 

“Nothing.” Juleka left to try to catch up with Rose. A

“Alya?” Adrien begged. “What is going on?” Alya just shook her head and led him back to the party. It had only been a few minutes before the music was stopped by an akumatized victim tossing a large rock at the DJ Booth demolishing it. 

“I am Truth Singer.” the villain said, “And from now on you will all sing your truths so the whole world can hear.” Adrien backed up. This isn’t good. He had to get out of there before the villain made him sing, his truth had to remain a secret. Nino was the first one hit by the villain's powers. He began to sing Perfect, by Ed Sheeran as he took Alya’s hand. She tried to get away to run but was mesmerized by his song. 

Adrien took this opportunity to run while the rest of the party scattered from the park. 

“Plagg, we can’t get hit no matter what.” The Kwami didn’t respond. Oh right. He thought, my jacket. He ran back to the park and found his other jacket laying on the bench. He grabbed it and ran back to the alley. “Plagg?” the Kwami came out of the pocket smelling like stinky cheese. 

“Wow, I wonder how many people thought you looked like Cat Noir?” Plagg said, noting the leather jacket.

“You think that might be why Marinette ran? Do you think she recognized me?”

“She made it didn’t she?” Plagg asked. Adrien lifted the cuff to inspect the stitching, just on the inside of the cuff of both arms was the signature stitching she had placed on everything she had made him. He nodded. He wondered if it bothered her, the thought that he might be Cat Noir or if she truly was in love with Cat. No time for that now.

“Plagg Claws out.” He inspected his Cat suit to realize the suit Marinette made him was very much similar, however the designs were unique. The Cat suit was solid black versus the neon green stitching of the Marinette jacket. He ran back to the park where he found Several people singing. The akumatized person was gone. He could hear her in the distance calling. He gave chase until he found her on Marinette’s balcony. 

“Oh Marinette, it’s time to sing your truth, it’s been far too long keeping your love bottled up.” Truth Singer sang out. What was she talking about? 

“I hate to break it to you but Marinette isn’t much of a singer.” He announced his presence on the roof above her. “But I will be happy to take that akuma from you then we can go find her together, and ask her about this secret you are speaking of.” He lept at her scratching at the bottle of perfume she held in her hands. It was much like Princess Fragrance only instead of turning people into her slaves, she was making them sing about their truth. He missed. Suddenly he was engulfed in smoke. He tried to cough it out of his lungs but it was too late.

 He landed on the railing of Marinette’s balcony balancing on all fours. 

“Well little lady, let me Elucidate here.” He said. He had no idea what to do, he couldn’t stop. “Everybody wants to be a cat

Because a cat's the only cat

Who knows where it's at”

He flipped backward as she swung at him. Maintaining his balance on the railing until there wasn’t any left. 

“Tell me, everybody's pickin' up on that feline beat

'Cause everything else is obsolete

A square with a horn makes you wish you weren't born”

He leaped over her head to the other side of the railing standing up right. 

“Every time he plays

But with a square in the act

You can set music back” He held his hands up  in a shrug gesture. He pulled out his baton. As she came at him again. Her mouth twisted in a snarl as she kicked at him. 

“To the caveman days, cha-cha-ba-dum-bo-day

I've heard some corny birds who who tried to sing

Still a cat's the only cat who knows how to swing

Who wants to dig a long-haired gig or stuff like that?”

“AAH.” She growled, charging at him again. He jumped into the air flipping over her. “Stop moving so I can get your miraculous.” she demanded. 

“When everybody wants to be a cat

A square with a horn makes you wish you weren't born

Every time he plays

Oh, a rinky-tinky-tinky

With a square in the act you can set music back

To the caveman days”

 

“Enough you stupid cat that song is annoying.” She screamed at him. He might not have had any control over it, but it was working. “How is that song your truth anyway?”

“Yes, everybody wants to be a cat

Because a cat's the only cat who knows where it's at

When playin' jazz you always has a welcome mat

'Cause everybody digs a swinging cat”. The truth was clear, he loved being in his cat form. He never felt more like himself than when he was popping off puns, flirting and being generally playful, he always had to be as serious as Adrien, but as Cat, he had all the freedom in the world. 

 

Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat

Hallelujah!

Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat

Everybody, everybody, everybody wants to be a cat

Everybody, everybody

 

He launched for the perfume bottle again. If only he could call his cataclysm. Suddenly her attention was drawn elsewhere. He followed her gaze and found Marinette sitting alone on a bench down the street. Was she crying. Truth Singer dove off the rooftop before he could grab her. He spun his baton then jumped from the roof extending his staff to give himself a quicker path to Marinette. He landed on the concrete in front of her as Truth Singer was on his heels. He wasted no time scooping her into his arms like a bride before he ran leaping off the walls as he made his way to the rooftops.

 

“You're the light, you're the night

You're the color of my blood

You're the cure, you're the pain

You're the only thing I wanna touch

Never knew that it could mean so much, so much” Damn Marinette got hit. He looked down at her face. It was red as she reached up for his face. So far, this power isn’t revealing their secrets, it’s just making them sing a truthful song, something they felt. 

 

“You're the fear, I don't care

'Cause I've never been so high

Follow me through the dark

Let me take you past our satellites

You can see the world you brought to life, to life”

 

Her voice was beautiful, he thought as he tried to find a place to stash Marinette, where was Ladybug. He had tried to refrain from singing, at least keeping his voice so low that no one else could hear him. He wanted to focus on her voice. 

“So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do

What are you waiting for?”

Cat froze on the rooftop, his eyes met hers. The heat rose up in his cheeks as she sang. His heart began to flutter. Does she feel this way about Cat Noir, or did she figure it out and know he’s Adrien. 

“Fading in, fading out

On the edge of paradise

Every inch of your skin, is a Holy Grail I've gotta find

Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire”

He gulped back a lump that had started to form on his lips. He was glad he had made distance between them and Truth Singer, or did she get what she wanted. He squatted down on the rooftop as she sang to him. He stroked her face. He could feel his own song changing. Suddenly his feelings, his heart began to sing. The power of the magic between them had actually changed his song.

“I'll let you set the pace

'Cause I'm not thinking straight

My head's spinning around, I can't see clear no more

Oh, what are you waiting for?” Cat Noir sang out the words before they escaped her lips. 

“Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do

Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do, oh

What are you, what are you waiting for?

What are you waiting for?” These were her words sung through his lips as she froze. Her face reddened. He knew he had feelings for her, but he never wanted to admit it, he didn’t want to betray his feelings for Ladybug, but how could he deny the feelings he had been developing for Marinette since day one. Maybe it was just the magic from the akuma, but he no longer controlled his own emotions. He cupped her face in his free hand as the other one was behind her back as she draped over his knees. He pulled her face closer to his, watching her eyes drift shut. 

““I'll let you set the pace

'Cause I'm not thinking straight

My head's spinning around, I can't see clear no more

Oh, what are you waiting for?” She sang just as his lips met hers. Their mouths opened as they pressed themselves closer together feeling every inch of her mouth on his. He could feel the song magic fading, the urge to sing no longer present, but what was this feeling in his heart? It was as if his heart had been turned into butterflies and they were swarming his chest trying to escape. He kept his lips on hers, waiting for her to push him away. She didn’t, she weaved her fingers through his hair gently combing through. 

“Give me your Miraculous Cat Noir, and I will use you to draw out Ladybug.” Truth Singer was right behind him. He quickly grabbed his baton spinning on his heels as he moved Marinette behind him. 

“Grab on.” He said. She jumped on his back as he extended the staff launching them into the atmosphere then swinging it forward vaulting them into flight. They began to fall as she held onto him. He angled to fall to land in and alley way as they came down between the buildings he moved his staff between the building like a hanging rod sliding down the brick building until they slowed just feet from the ground. She dropped from his shoulders as he held on to the now lodged baton. He reached out a hand to her.

He released the baton as it shrunk back to the length of a ruler. He locked it back in place on his back. Marinette stood in front of him still red in the face. 

“I guess kissing a purrincess can break any spell.” He knelt before her, taking her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. She simply stood frozen in place. Unable to speak. “Tell me now purrincess, why did she want you to sing your truth?”

“I have already told you Cat.” She whispered. “About the boy I like, but I haven’t been able to tell him how I feel, I am such a klutz with my words when I am around him.” A single tear fell from her eye. 

“Could you ever love me?” Cat asked her. 

“I don’t know who you are under the mask.”

“I am more myself with the mask, then I have ever been without it, can you love this side of me.” he stood up taking both her hands in his. “And I love you for everything that you are, your clumsiness as well.” he smirked. Heat raced to his face as he watched her, he felt his heart still as his confession fell upon her ears. 

“What about Ladybug.” She whimpered. 

“In the words of a special friend of mine…Plagg, it’s okay to love two people at the same time, especially when they are so much alike.” 

“I’m nothing like Ladybug.” she pulled her hands back. His smile widened. 

“Will you please answer my question?” his heart couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you love this side of me? This man you see before you,” She looked back up at him. “Put the thought of that Sunshine boy out of your head for one second, and focus on me.” Marinette sighed. 

“Yes.” She admitted. “Yes Cat, I do love you, but…” 

“Claws in.” Marinette closed her eyes, blinding by his detransformation. “I trust you, after all you are the only one I know besides myself who has never been akumatized.” He chuckled. He cupped both hands on her cheeks forcing her to look up at him. He could hear Truth Singer in the distance looking for Cat and Ladybug. “You have to open your eyes Marinette,.” She slowly slid her eyes open. Her face reflected a realization that maybe She had figured it out earlier in the park. His heart stilled in his chest waiting for her response. 

“Spots on.” 

“Best birthday ever.” Adrien said, lowering his face to place his lips on Ladybugs. He kept his eyes open as she closed hers. The moment their lips met, his closed as they melted into each other's kisses. 

There you go LadyNoir and Marichat Shippers. We don’t need to finish this story, we all know what happens to the akumatized person. 

Ps, I didn't write the songs, but credit aristocats for the feline good song "Everybody wants to be a cat" and Ellie Goulding for "love me like you do"