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ja3yun · 2 months

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I was wondering if I could make a small request? I've been thinking of making out with sunghoon. Like his lips are so perfect for kissing and biting/nibbling, and I can't help but think about straddling his lap and making out softly and then intensely and becoming so aroused from that. I don't know if you can work with that or add anything to make it better, but I need it, please. If not, I'm sorry to bother you.

warnings: suggestive, kissing obvs, slight biting

w.c: 1.1k

a/n: hope you like it babe! i hope it's what you wanted. i wrote this during my lunch break so it might be a bit messy, sorry.

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Opening your bedroom door, you see your boyfriend sprawled across the bed, his back against the headboard as he scrolls through his phone, waiting for you.

Leaning against the doorframe, you allow yourself a moment to drink in the sight before you. His eyes, half-closed in a relaxed expression, seem to hold a thousand unspoken promises. Every line of his face is softened, a striking contrast to the usual meticulous façade he presents to the world.

The dampness of his hair creates a delicate halo around his head, catching the light in such a way that makes him look both tender and enchanting. He always looked the most beautiful like this, barefaced, his natural charm shining through

You feel a warmth spreading through you, an appreciation for the rare beauty before you. And you get to call him yours.

Your gaze drifts to his lips, which look velvety smooth and inviting. The natural plump, pink pillows stand out against his skin, and you can't help but be mesmerised by their softness. The way they part slightly as he breathes, the delicate curve of his smile, all combine to create a sight that is utterly captivating.

Slowly, you push off from the doorframe and make your way towards him. His eyes meet yours, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches you approach. “I thought you drowned in there,” he jokes, locking his phone and giving you his full attention.

You climb onto the bed, crawling over to straddle his lap, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His hands find your waist, steadying you as you settle in. You lean in closer, breathing in the clean, fresh scent of him, and feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

“I just took a really long shower today,” you sigh, tone slightly deflated.

The shift in your demeanour doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who crunches his thick eyebrows as his expression paints a worried look. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” he asks softly, his voice full of genuine concern. His gaze never wavers from yours, and in that moment, you feel the full depth of his care and attention.

You shake your head slightly, trying to dispel the lingering feelings of weariness. “Nothing serious, just a bit tired,” you admit, resting your forehead against his. His presence, so calming and reassuring, begins to lift the weight from your shoulders. Your hands splay over his chest as you feel his taut muscles under your fingertips.

He gently tilts your chin up with his pointer finger, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss that seems to communicate all the love and understanding words could never fully capture.

Sunghoon’s lips are soft and inviting, their texture silky smooth against your own. As the kiss begins, it’s gentle and exploratory, each movement delicate and thoughtful. You can feel the subtle brush of his skin against yours, a light caress that sends shivers down your spine. His lips move slowly, moulding with yours like he was tailor made for you. You can taste the faint hint of mint on his breath, mingling with his own flavour.

As the kiss deepens, his lips press more firmly against yours, their warmth spreading through you like a soothing balm. His hands tighten slightly on your waist, pulling you closer, his fingertips tracing small, comforting circles on your skin. You can feel the gentle pressure of his mouth as he tilts his head, adjusting the angle to better align with yours. The sensation is electrifying, every touch a promise of more to come.

With each meld of your lips, his teeth nibble at your lips, dragging them and as he looks at you with a lust filled gaze before licking the slight wounds, giving you the perfect balance of pleasure and care.

Your own hands move up to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt as you lose yourself in the kiss. His lips part slightly, inviting you to further the connection, and you respond eagerly. The kiss becomes more fervent, a passionate dance of tongues and lips that leaves you breathless. Each movement is infused with a sense of urgency and longing, the soft sound of your breaths mingling in the quiet room.

His hips buck up into you instinctively, making you gasp in arousal, allowing Sunghoon to explore your mouth deeper, his wet muscle marking it’s territory everywhere it can reach.

The sensation of his tongue gliding against yours is both tender and intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and pure desire. You meet his movements with equal enthusiasm, your tongues entwining in a sensual rhythm that heightens the need between you. Each caress of his tongue sends a thrill through your body, the taste of him filling your senses.

Kissing Sunghoon is like nothing you could ever put into words, it’s passionate, raw, loving, and lustful. He knows by your earlier statement that you need to just lose yourself in his touch, give your mind a rest and breathe in his adoration.

Pulling back, you catch the air back in your lungs, chest heaving against his. But Sunghoon doesn’t rest, instead he attached his swollen lips to your cheek, nose, forehead, jaw, and neck, peppering loving kisses all over you.

“I’ll kiss away the tiredness for you,” he smirks, portraying his desire, yet his eyes are soft and brimming with affection as they meet yours.

You smile, feeling the warmth of his affection with each gentle kiss. His lips linger on your skin, their touch both soothing and electrifying. Each kiss seems to chase away the remnants of weariness, replaced by a burgeoning sense of joy and contentment. The tender graze of his lips against your neck sends a delightful shiver down your spine, making your heart swell with a deep, comforting love.

As he continues his tender ministrations, you can’t help but laugh softly, the sound of relief and happiness. “You’re going to spoil me with all these kisses,” you tease, running your fingers through his damp hair.

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “If that’s what it takes to see you smile, I’ll keep going,” he replies, his voice laced with sincerity and a hint of mischief.

“Then, yes, keep kissing me, please,” you pout your lips out, patiently awaiting him to envelop yours once again. The lightheartedness in your voice makes Sunghoon’s heart flutter with glee, your body a tiny bit more energised and hopeful than before.

“Anything you want, baby,” he pecks your lips in quick bursts, the sound of smooches and your heartbeats echoing the room.

A sly grin etches on your face. “Anything?” You wiggle your eyebrows and Sunghoon gets your insinuation instantly and grips your hips roughly, moving your hips against his growing erection. A moan slips past your lips as your eyes close, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your neck and bulge running effortlessly over your clit.

“I think anything is reasonable.”

#aj answers #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabble #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon smut #aj drabbles

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

Text

His to Keep

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 3,626

Summary: You've been working for Bucky for almost a year and although you know there's so much more to him than just owning the club, you can't help but be drawn to him as he's drawn to you.

Author's Note: Just more mob!Bucky because I love him so! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: light mentions of v-i-olen-c-e and angst, but mostly sweetness and softness, tension and flirting, and d-o-m and obse-ssi-ve Bucky.

The piercing shot rings out, and before the echoing sound even dies, Bucky’s running. Your high-pitched scream pierces the air and he silently prays for your safety, his long legs moving so fast time seems suspended.

When he reaches the hallway, there’s a small group of employees gathered by the doorway, their expression filled with shock and horror.

They part without question as he approaches, rushing into the room and ignoring the violence that so blatantly fills it. His blue eyes search for you and finally his heart starts beating again when he sees you unharmed.

You’re crouched in the corner, eyes wide with terror as you take in the slumped over man in the chair, his tailored and expensive suit now stained red.

Bucky’s men immediately follow his orders to handle the situation but his attention never leaves you.

With slow steps he approaches you, holding his hands out and speaking your name softly. When your eyes lock with his the first tear slides down your cheek and he nearly crumbles to his knees, his heart shattering.

He gathers you into his arms with such a gentle grace, as if you’ll break and ushers you toward his office. With a nudge of his toe he opens the door and sets you down in his large leather chair. Carefully he takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over you, tucking it above your shoulders.

His eyes are laser focused on you as he fills a crystal glass with whiskey and forces it into your shaky hand.

“Drink this.”

You glance at it unseeingly, lost in your head, replaying what you just witnessed over and over.

He lifts the glass with a gentle touch and when it reaches your lips you drink reflexively. He waits until you finish all of it.

Taking a silk handkerchief out of his breast pocket, he kneels down in front of you, his hands moving with slow trepidation, but still you try to intercept it.

“Let me,” he orders. “Please doll.”

The second set of words come out softer and your hands fall to your lap.

He cleans your face of tears, his touch delicate and reverent and you can feel his warm breath fan your cheek as his thumb chases a stray tear that slips toward your mouth.

“Doll,” he whispers roughly, emotion clogging his voice.

Your wet lashes lift and you meet his eyes, your breath catching at what you see. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable. His usual façade of unrivaled power and unrelenting dominance gone, replaced by a haunting look of dread.

“James?”

At the sound of his name on your lips his jaw clenches, his controlled restraint slowly slipping away with his mask and every moment he spends so close to you. He needs you to feel you. Your warm and soft skin, your pulsing heartbeat, your lips, every curve…

But he would never take advantage of you, especially after what just happened.

“Let me take you home.”

You nod and easily fall into his embrace, resting your head against his chest as he escorts you toward the exit.

When your soft sheet hits your shoulder you sigh, snuggling closer to your pillow as Bucky tucks you in. You had argued lightly when he told you to shower but now that you’re warm and clean you feel marginally better.

He pauses at the door as you fall asleep, knowing he can’t leave you here alone, instead sinking into your make up chair in the corner of the room, watching vigilantly as you succumb to slumber.

A week later you’re determined to leave your house, wanting to get back to work, even if it means facing the demons of that night. And you want to see him again. You’ve missed him, even though you know he’s never very far away.

He watches from his hidden vantage point as you close your car door and start the engine. He doesn’t need the GPS tracker he had installed on your car to tell him where you’re headed, but he turns it on anyway.

His own car starts, black and sleek in a nondescript way. He easily catches up to you, maintaining a safe distance behind you so you don’t notice him.

He phones Steve who’s working the back door of the club. “She’ll be arriving soon. Escort her in.”

Steve makes a small sound of acknowledgement and hangs up, promptly moving outside to wait for you.

Once Bucky is satisfied Steve has you covered he makes a sharp turn off the main road and takes the back streets toward his club. He needs to be there before you. Ready and waiting.

Before you even turn your car off, Steve is at the door, opening it and guarding you with his body.

In his office, Bucky waits, checking the crowd through the one-way glass that overlooks the floor. Security has been upgraded, covering every inch of his club to ensure nothing like what happened last week ever happens again.

Everything in the club looks to be running smoothly…not that he would have it any other way. All his endeavors are done with the utmost care and cunning precision. He wouldn’t be able to run this club any other way let alone the whole damn city.

He scans the floor until his eyes land on you and as if you can feel his gaze, your eyes glance up to the window where you know he’s standing.

The connection that’s been growing between you two for the past year has only been solidified since the unfortunate event that took place last week. He knew in that moment that he would do anything for you. Die to protect you.

Since the instant you walked into his club to apply for the job as manager he knew you were special. And having you work for him has been the sweetest torture. Day after day he watches you excel at your job, handle everything thrown your way with ease and professionalism, even the scummy clientele that try to lay hands on you.

No one touches what belongs to him and only the ones that don’t know who he is try. But they soon find out how big of a mistake they’ve made.

Steve alerts Bucky that you’re on your way up to his office.

The knock on his office door makes his heart skip a beat and even though he’s dressed impeccably he smooths his hand down his chest, adjusting his tie in the process.

“Come in.”

You crack the door open and peek in.

“Hi James. Steve said I could come up?”

At your questioning tone, Bucky smiles.

“You never have to ask to see me doll. You’re welcome to anytime.”

You smile softly and walk in, shutting the door behind you. With a slow saunter you move toward his desk and perch yourself on the edge near his chair.

He finds it hard to concentrate the moment you’re close. Even though you try to keep a cool demeanor, your body is inviting in its posture and your eyes devour every inch of him.

“Thank you for seeing me James,” you start. “I wanted to…”

Before you can finish he leans closer, a gentle interruption with his consuming presence. “First of all, call me Bucky. I’m only James to everyone else. And as I said before, I would love to see you anytime you want doll.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning toward him as if you’re pulled by some invisible string. “That’s actually why I’m here. I wanted to thank you.”

“For?” he asks, his eyebrows raised as a small smile pulls at his lips.

Your eyes drop to his mouth before your lips part to speak again.

“Taking such good care of me last week and rescuing me.”

“I hardly rescued you doll. I’ll never forgive myself for putting you in that situation and the fact that I wasn’t there to protect you will haunt me forever. I never wanted you to see this side of my…business.”

You pull your gaze away from his mouth and study his face. He’s beautiful. His large blue eyes framed by dark and long lashes and his perfectly shaped jaw surrounding a mouth with lips you dream about tasting.

“It’s ok…”

“No.” he says, his tone harsh.

His face crumples when he sees your eyes widen at his gruffness.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly recovers. “That’s not meant to be toward you…if anything had happened to you…”

You tentatively reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb softly brushing over the dark stubble that lines it.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I know you would never hurt me.”

His eyes are locked on yours, the tension between you palpable. You unconsciously trace your lips with your tongue, drawing his attention. He moves closer, closing the distance and resting his elbows on his spread thighs.

“Anything you want from me. Anything at all. You need but to ask and it’s yours.”

“Jame…Bucky, thank you.”

He visibly preens when you say ‘Bucky,’ and it makes you smile, triumph alight in your eyes.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do…?” you ask, looking at him from under your lashes.

“Nothing. You’re perfect. However, I’d like to ask you something.”

His words peek your interest and you inch closer, knowing after today there’s no turning back from this. From him.

“Dinner. I want you to have dinner with me doll.”

“That wasn’t a question,” you say teasingly, even as you drag your teeth over your bottom lip. “More of an order.”

“Mm, you’re right,” he winks. “Either way, I think your answer is going to be yes.”

“Like a date?” you question, your grin widening.

“Yes. A date.”

“What will everyone else say when they find out you’re dating your employee?”

Your question has his features hardening ever so slightly, but not at you.

“No one will say a word about it. I can assure you of that.”

You audibly swallow as you take him in, focusing on the way you feel about him, not what he’s capable of.

“I’d love to have dinner with you Bucky.”

He visibly relaxes and a genuine smile graces his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes in such an endearing way you nearly swoon off the desk.

“Good. Then let’s eat.”

You giggle. “Now? I thought you meant you were going to pick me up, you know, I’d get all dressed and then you take me out.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to give you time to reconsider.”

Reluctantly, but with a smirk, he pushes on his heels and rolls his chair away from you, grabbing his cell. He orders a spread of food from one of his restaurants, then sits back down.

“Sit,” he says, motioning to the chair across from him.

When you do he slides closer, framing you with his spread legs and caging you in with his thighs.

“So now that this is dinner, tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know.”

“Hmm,” you muse, tapping your chin.

You fall into easy and comfortable conversation, sharing more about your past. Bucky listens intently, hanging on to every word and prodding gently with well thought out questions.

A knock at the door surprises you both and you can see Bucky’s body tense. He was so immersed in you he lost sight of any possible dangers, forgetting his surroundings. He mentally berates himself, tucking that away and vowing to be more mindful, if only to keep you safe.

Thankfully, it’s only the dinner delivery.

He takes the food and moves to the casual seating area of his office, placing the food down on the coffee table. You follow him and sit on the floor.

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your form before he follows suit with a light shrug.

“Have you ever sat on the floor to eat dinner?” you ask playfully.

“Not that I recall,” he answers, serving you food.

You both laugh and dig into the delicious dinner.

After your impromptu dinner date you and Bucky continue to dance around each other at work. The connection is strong, the pull between you taut with intense heat and longing. You can always feel his presence, his eyes on you, but it’s not uncomfortable at all, in fact, it makes you feel safe.

Later that week as you’re leaving your yoga class you feel someone following you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end but when you hear the instructor’s familiar voice you relax slightly and turn to say hello.

“Hi Matt.”

He greets you warmly and falls into step next to you as you walk toward your cars. The conversation is light at first but then he starts to complain about his girlfriend and how their relationship is failing. You begin to feel uncomfortable and as if sensing it, Matt drops his head.

“I’m sorry. Enough of my drama. I just need to move on I think.”

You take that as your cue to leave and start to say your goodbye but he keeps talking, chasing after you as you move toward your car.

“Hey, how is work going?”

“Uh..good, really good, thanks.”

Matt continues firing questions at you and your eyes dart around the darkened parking lot, quietly searching for Steve or one of Bucky’s other men.

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” Matt says, the words pulling your from your spiraling thoughts.

You step back to gain space and before you can answer, there’s a loud clanging noise as the door of the gym next door slams shut.

A big and broad silhouette comes into view and both you and Matt automatically look over.

Steve’s large frame moves closer and you sigh in relief.

“Hey Steve,” you chime, taking a step toward him.

Steve respectfully keeps his distance while also always keeping you protected.

“Ready to go?” Steve asks as he glares at Matt.

“Yes,” you answer, waving at Matt.

Matt blinks several times, clearly confused at Steve’s arrival but grudgingly says his goodbye and shuffles off to his car.

“I was looking for you Steve,” you say once Matt is out of ear shot.

“I’m sorry it took me longer than usual. I was on a call,” he apologies.

“It’s ok,” you say with a soft pat to his shoulder. “Just glad you’re here.”

“I always am.”

When you look at him with curious eyes his own go wide. “Well…not always of course. Bucky would have my head, but I just meant…”

You throw your head back with laughter. “I know Steve. The first few months I thought I was just crazy but when I realized it was just you trailing me and keeping me safe I felt better.”

Steve gives you a more relaxed smile and opens your car door.

“Um Steve,” you say softly as you sit. “Do you think maybe…we could keep this just between us? Matt’s not really a bad guy. I think he’s just having a rough time. I’m sure everything would have been just fine.”

Steve’s mouth turns down in a frown. “You know I can’t do that.”

With a sigh you reply, “I knew you were going to say that.”

Steve’s lips lift into a wry smile. “When it comes to his girl he wants to know everything.”

“Is that so?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “Should I start keeping a diary so I can report in every second of every day.”

“Well, you probably don’t need to go that far, but…”

Your lips purse but when you see his expression morph into one of sheepishness for the second time that night you decide to let it go and take it up with Bucky himself.

Back home, Steve walks you to your door.

“Do you want to come in? Need a snack or drink?” you ask.

He doesn’t take a single step closer and shakes his head once.

“He’s on his way now.”

“Bucky’s on his way?” you squeak. “Shit. I need to change and tidy up!”

At your use of ‘Bucky’ Steve genuinely grins. The action catches you off guard but you realize that Bucky wasn’t lying when he said no one calls him that but you. With another flurry of thanks and goodnights you bid farewell to Steve, even though you know he’ll just be sitting outside in his SUV until Bucky arrives.

You prepare for your shower, determined to keep your head once he gets there and get some definitive answers from him.

At his knock, you open the door with a tentative smile.

“Doll face,” he greets, his voice deep and intense.

“Bucky,” you echo. “Would you like to come in.”

“Please,” he answers and brushes past you.

Just the delicate touch of his hand as he walks by sends goosebumps skittering across your skin.

“I’m sure you already know about what Steve did tonight,” you say as you walk into your living room.

“Of course,” he answers.

You look over your shoulder and narrow your eyes.

“Want something to drink?”

“Do you have whiskey?” he asks.

“No whiskey, just red or white wine and water. Take it or leave it.”

At your sassy tone his eyebrows raise every so slightly.

“Water is fine, thank you. And want to tell me what that sassiness is about.”

After you get two glasses of water you sit on the couch across from him, leveling him with your best glare.

“How long have you had Steve following me?” you ask him.

“You’re very observant,” he states.

“That’s not an answer,” you continue with sass. “And I’ve been paying attention. You know I have. But mostly to you.”

Your confession satisfies him. You can see it in the way he lifts his chin and his eyes glitter.

“I want you to fill me in Bucky.”

“On?” he asks as his arm falls over the back of the couch and his fingers ghost over your shoulder, mostly bare in your thin tank top.

“Bucky.”

You mean it to come out more demanding, but it’s breathy and your body shivers at his touch.

“Are you sure? You were pretty freaked out by what you learned last time you got a glimpse behind my curtain. And rightfully so.”

“Tell me. I trust you and I want to give us a chance.”

He takes a deep breath and shares as much as he can without putting you in any more danger.

“Why do all of this though? Do you have men following everyone that works for you? Why did Steve call me your girl?”

“Two of these questions have the same answer. From the moment I saw you I wanted you to be mine and after the incident earlier this month and I almost lost you, it became an overwhelming feeling.”

His fingers press into your skin as he glides them down your arm.

“And no. I don’t have men on anyone else that works for me. I keep them safe of course. But just you. Always you.”

His hand leaves your arm and he strokes his thumb along your jaw. You lean into his touch and sigh out his name.

“I’ve been patient,” he murmurs. “Fuck doll, I’ve been so patient.”

He presses the pad of his finger to your lips, tracing their softness.

“But with every breath I take, I think of you. Every beat of my heart, I want you.”

The moment stretches in sweet torture before you place a hand on his cheek.

“I want you t…”

Before the words are fully out of your mouth he’s on you, dragging you into his lap and grinding his hips up as he grabs the back of your neck and steals your breath.

You press closer, needing to feel every inch of him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you lightly scratch your nails over his scalp before your hands fall to his chest and you start to tug at his tie.

Your lips leave his and you trail kisses along his jaw, stopping just below his ear before tracing the muscular column of his neck.

He hisses out a curse and tightens his grip. You smile into his skin and loosen his tie. You’ve barely gotten it undone when his large hand lands on your ass cheek. The sting makes you moan and rock your hips but in a flash your eyes are on his, your chin caught between his thumb and forefinger.

You take in his appearance as he stares at you. His usually pristine shirt now wrinkled, the buttons at the top hanging open and his loose tie dangling messily. His normally untouched hair is tousled, wild from your fingers and his control is clearly wavering with every heaving breath he takes.

You don’t waste another second and this time you kiss him, pressing your softness against every hard plane of his body, maximizing every bit of contact as you try to pin him to the back of the couch. You nibble into his bottom lip and then swallow the sound of his satisfied growl.

“Doll,” he starts, and you hear the questioning tone of his voice.

“Fuck me, Bucky. Fill me and make me yours.”

For a split second you see surprise flash across his features but he instantly recovers with a smirk.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for his, how many times I’ve dreamed of you saying those words to me,” he murmurs, his body rigid with his restraint. “And remember, you asked for this. I’m going to give you everything.”

His words are a dark promise, one you hold onto with every fiber of your being.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #mob!Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #mob au #mafia au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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callsigns-haze · 1 month

Text

Unexpected twist

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tim and Y/N's first date at a fancy restaurant is interrupted by a robbery, turning a romantic evening into a spontaneous takedown and leaving their relationship exposed to their curious colleagues.

Chapter Warning: This chapter contains a sudden shift from a romantic date to an intense, potentially dangerous situation involving a robbery, with moments of suspense, gun use, and police intervention.

A/N: My first fic about the rookie eeeeeeeeek

The evening was perfect—the kind of night that begged for romance. The sun had just set, leaving behind a soft twilight that bathed Los Angeles in shades of purple and gold. The upscale restaurant Tim Bradford had chosen was nestled in a quiet corner of the city, known for its elegance and discretion. It was the kind of place where celebrities could dine without being disturbed, and tonight, it was the stage for a first date that had been a long time coming.

Tim arrived first, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nerves. His usually steady hands betrayed a slight tremor as he adjusted the cuffs of his navy-blue suit. The suit was perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build, the sharp lines giving him an air of authority even out of uniform. The crisp white shirt he wore beneath it was open at the collar, revealing a hint of tanned skin, and his dark leather shoes were polished to a mirror shine. His hair was neatly styled, though a few rebellious strands fell across his forehead, softening the hard lines of his face. He glanced at his reflection in the window, making a mental note to ease up on the cologne—he wanted to make an impression, not overwhelm her.

Just as Tim settled into his seat, Y/N Y/L/N entered the restaurant, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. She was a vision in an emerald-green dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the rich color bringing out the warmth of her skin. The neckline was a perfect balance—elegant yet suggestive, hinting at the strength beneath the softness. Her hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle but impeccable, with a soft shimmer on her eyelids that caught the light just so. A delicate gold necklace adorned her neck, matching the small, sparkling earrings that completed her look. She moved with a grace that was both natural and practiced, each step exuding confidence.

Tim stood as she approached, his heart beating a little faster than usual. "Wow," he said, his voice dropping an octave, full of genuine admiration. "You look... stunning."

Y/N smiled, a hint of a blush rising to her cheeks. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, Bradford. I almost didn't recognize you without the uniform and scowl."

He chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "I save the scowl for the rookies. And for bad guys. I promise you won't see it tonight."

She raised an eyebrow playfully as she took her seat. "We'll see about that. I’m sure I could get it out of you if I tried."

Tim’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Careful, Detective. You don’t want to see me at my worst tonight."

"Oh, I’m not afraid of you," Y/N teased, her voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. "In fact, I’m looking forward to it."

Tim leaned in slightly, his gaze locking with hers. "You know, I wasn't sure you'd actually say yes to this. We've worked together for a while, and I didn’t know if you’d be interested in mixing business with… pleasure."

Y/N's lips curled into a slow, seductive smile. "Who says I’m interested in pleasure, Bradford? Maybe I just wanted to see if you’re as tough off-duty as you are on."

His grin widened, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, I’m just as tough, but I can be pretty charming when I want to be."

"Charming, huh?" Y/N’s tone was light, teasing. "I’ll believe it when I see it."

They continued to flirt as the evening progressed, their conversations flowing easily from work to personal interests, each revelation bringing them closer. The chemistry between them crackled like electricity, unspoken but undeniable. Every now and then, they would exchange a glance, both of them half-expecting a familiar face from the station to walk through the door.

"You know," Y/N said, breaking the momentary silence, "I keep thinking someone from work is going to walk in and ruin this."

Tim nodded, his expression softening. "Same here. It’s like we can’t escape the job, even on a night like this."

"Well, if they do show up, we’ll just tell them we’re working undercover," she suggested with a mischievous grin.

Tim smirked. "Yeah? And what exactly are we investigating?"

"Restaurant quality," she replied with a wink, making Tim chuckle.

Just as they were starting to relax, the door to the restaurant was thrown open with a loud crash, and the once tranquil atmosphere shattered like glass. A man in a black ski mask stormed in, waving a gun wildly in the air. The room fell into a stunned silence, every patron freezing in fear.

"Everyone stay where you are!" the man shouted, his voice edged with desperation. "Empty your wallets, your purses—now!"

Tim’s eyes sharpened, his instincts kicking in immediately. He looked at Y/N, who had already reached under the table, her hand on her off-duty weapon. Her expression had gone from flirty to deadly serious in an instant. She gave Tim a quick nod, and they both moved with a speed and precision that spoke to years of training and experience.

"Hey!" Tim barked, standing up suddenly. His voice was authoritative, commanding the room. "LAPD! Drop the weapon and get on the ground, now!"

The robber spun around, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected confrontation. His gun wavered, but his desperation outweighed his common sense.

"Don’t move!" he yelled, his voice cracking. But it was too late—Y/N was already moving, her gun drawn and trained on him with deadly accuracy.

"Put the gun down!" Y/N ordered, her voice steady, every bit the seasoned detective. "This doesn’t have to end badly for you."

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between the two officers and the terrified patrons around him. The tension in the room was palpable, everyone holding their breath, waiting for the situation to explode.

Tim slowly approached, his gun also drawn. "You’re outnumbered, and we’re not going to ask again," he warned, his voice low and threatening. "Drop it."

The robber’s resolve broke. His hand shook violently as he looked from Tim to Y/N, realizing he had no way out. With a defeated sigh, he let the gun slip from his fingers and clatter to the floor. Y/N was on him in an instant, kicking the weapon away and securing his wrists with a pair of handcuffs.

Tim kept his gun trained on the man until he was sure the situation was under control. As the adrenaline began to fade, he glanced around the restaurant, noticing the wide-eyed stares of the other patrons. Applause broke out, tentative at first, then growing louder as relief washed over the room.

Y/N looked up at Tim, a grin spreading across her face. "So much for a quiet evening, huh?"

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. "Yeah, I guess we have a talent for finding trouble."

Y/N stood, pulling the cuffed robber to his feet. "Or maybe trouble just finds us."

Before they could share another quip, the sound of police sirens filled the air outside, and moments later, a familiar group of officers burst into the restaurant, weapons drawn, ready to respond.

Nolan was the first through the door, followed by Harper, Aaron, and Lucy. Their faces were a mix of surprise and confusion as they took in the scene—Y/N and Tim standing over a cuffed suspect, both looking more like they were on a night out than responding to a robbery.

"What the hell is going on here?" Harper demanded, her sharp eyes narrowing as she holstered her weapon.

Tim and Y/N exchanged a quick look, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Lucy chimed in, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Were you guys on a date?" Lucy blurted out, the question hanging in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Tim felt his face flush, the color rising from his neck to his ears. Y/N seemed equally flustered, though she quickly tried to recover.

"Uh, we were just… grabbing a bite to eat," Y/N said, her voice a little too casual.

"Yeah, just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Tim added, though his tone didn’t quite carry the confidence he hoped for.

Nolan raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "A bite to eat? In suits and fancy dresses?"

Harper crossed her arms, clearly amused. "Right place, right time, huh? Sounds more like a date to me."

Y/N sighed, knowing they were caught. "Fine, it was a date. But in our defence, we didn’t expect to be playing hero tonight."

"Well, you certainly picked a memorable first date," Aaron remarked with a smirk, looking at the subdued robber. "Though, maybe next time choose a place that’s less likely to get held up."

Lucy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on between you two!"

Tim shot her a look, though there was no real heat behind it. "Can we maybe focus on the fact that we just stopped a robbery?"

Harper chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. "Sure, Bradford. But you know this is going to be all over the station by morning."

Y/N groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Great. Just what I wanted."

Nolan grinned, clapping Tim on the shoulder. "Hey, at least you didn’t have to pay for dinner."

Tim couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess there’s that, still get to keep the two hundred in the budget."

As their colleagues began to process the scene and take the suspect away, Y/N leaned in close to Tim, her voice low and playful. "So, how about round two? Somewhere a little less public?"

Tim’s eyes lit up with a mix of humour and affection. "Sounds perfect. And maybe this time we can actually finish a meal."

As Tim and Y/N walk out of the restaurant, still riding the adrenaline from the robbery, Tim glances at her with a playful grin. “So, any ideas for our second date? Preferably somewhere without armed robbers?”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night. How about something a little more low-key? Maybe a quiet dinner at my place? I make a mean lasagna.”

Tim’s eyes light up at the suggestion, and he nods. “That sounds perfect. But just so you know, I’m bringing dessert.”

“Deal,” Y/N replies, smiling warmly. “And this time, let’s keep our badges out of sight.”

They exchange a look filled with anticipation, both eager for a date that will hopefully be free of interruptions—and a chance to really get to know each other.

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#the rookie #the rookie abc #the rookie fic #the rookie fanfic #the rookie imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x fem!reader

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thecharacterchronicler · 4 months

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District Girl (Part 3) || (Peacekeeper) Coriolanus Snow x Reader || Smut

Outline: Coriolanus meets you again and, as a bad thunderstorm approaches, you invite him to take shelter in your cabin…

Word count: 3’686

Warnings: obsessive and possessive behavior, power imbalance, virgin female (implied) and rough explicit sex.

Author’s note: I tried to fulfill a request I received while sticking to the original idea I had for this part 3, so I hope whoever (anon) asked for it will be okay with this one being a bit rough. I promise I’ll try to write a much sweeter, more romantic, one shot of the reader losing her virginity to Coriolanus for you soon. Thanks for inspiring me with your request! 🖤 (Though I’m not sure I’ll know how to write sweet and romantic Coryo…)

((Part 1 )) - ((Part 2 ))

It had been cloudy since morning, causing the humidity in the air to rise above what Coriolanus usually deemed acceptable. It was still warm, even without a trace of sunshine, hidden behind menacing black clouds. Far in the distance, he could hear the distinctive roar of a thunderstorm approaching from the mountains, electricity almost palpable in the air.

Coriolanus didn’t enjoy sunny days either, mostly because he couldn’t get used to the uncomfortable climate of District 12, but standing between broken shacks, on a dirt road that would probably flood and turn into mud as soon as rain would start falling was a whole new kind of hell to him.

Hopefully, the party he was supposed to keep in check would end soon. It had barely started, with the two newlyweds couples returning from the justice building, gathering with their guests in a narrow space of grass between two cabins. Music was playing, but he didn’t like how wrong it sounded in his ears. People were joyfully chatting, trying to ignore the presence of peacekeepers nearby, watching them in search of an excuse to break out this gathering before it could turn sour because it somehow always turned sour in district 12… But maybe it would be the approaching storm that would put an end to the festivities first, allowing Coriolanus to go back to the barracks and have the rest of the afternoon to rest.

Standing tall, stoic, with a hand on his weapon, he watched the party unfold as some kids ran off to gather branches and burnt grass. He didn’t know the traditions for a wedding in this district but it sure seemed kind of pathetic to him. If it was his wedding, he would have made sure that it was a special day, he would have worn his best outfit and he would have made sure that his guests did too… Unlike most of the ones present today, still in their mining clothes and covered in dust. He also would have made sure that he had a proper venue where to celebrate his wedding, not a small patch of burnt grass near a row of sad cabins. And surely, he would have made sure that no storm was threatening to ruin it all.

“Hurry up or we won’t have enough time to get the fire going for the toasting.” You instructed a group of kids, as they placed a few fragile branches in your hands before running off again. You looked worried, your eyes on the black clouds in the horizon.

Coriolanus’ entire body reacted to your voice, briefly breaking his steady posture. He gazed at you, an irrepressible smirk appearing on his lips at the sight. You looked lovely. Even better than usual. Of course, you - out of all the other people - had had enough respect for the newlyweds to show up to their party wearing a nice and clean dress. The color brought out your eyes, making it all he could see for a moment. Until he lowered his gaze to your silhouette, noticing how it hugged and highlighted your lines and curves in the best way possible. It was as if the dress had been tailored for your body. Flawless.

Even if he wasn’t invited to the party and was instructed to keep his distances unless anything important occurred, he was happy to see you. He could watch you from where he kept guard, admire your beauty and make sure he memorized the contours of your body in that dress to entertain him later, when he’ll be alone in the showers. It wasn’t so bad after all.

The kids brought back another batch of branches to you and you placed them in a pile on the ground, taking a step back as a couple leaned down to light them on fire. All the guests applauded when red flames appeared, you included, as if lighting a fire was some kind of victory… Maybe it was after all, in such a humid climate.

A second couple did the same thing, starting a smaller fire next to the one slowly gaining strength and it pleased the guests just as much. Coriolanus held his breath when he saw you step up again, expecting you to follow suit on the odd tradition with a man that wouldn’t be him. You were dressed so nicely, your hair so beautifully arranged, that it finally occurred to him that it could be your wedding too.

No, he wouldn’t allow it. You were his. You had tasted him and he had tasted you, you knew each other intimately, you couldn’t belong to another man. Not anymore. Not when you could have him.

Instead of lighting a third fire, you handed both brides a loaf of bread and they proceeded to impale it on a branch, the grooms held it above the dancing flame and everyone watched as the bread slowly cooked. In the Capitol, cakes and desserts were served at weddings not… Toasts ?

He shook off his grimace of disgust. He wasn’t sure if it was because he kept being surprised by everyone’s lack of dignity in this district or if he was still slightly unsettled by the idea of you, marrying someone else.

A louder bang resounded through the street, bringing everyone’s attention to the mountains from which menacing clouds were quickly approaching. It was brief, everyone preffering to focus their attention back on the darkening bread held above the fire rather than on the weather, except for you. Coriolanus locked eyes with you, his heart strangely racing in his chest. He wanted you to notice him, but the possibility you might ignore him again, like you had a few days ago at the Hob, made him uneasy. He had showed you how good he could be to you. How lucky you should feel that you had somehow managed to catch his interest. But maybe you would provoke him again, just so that he could show you who you belong to once more.

A few very explicit images bloomed in his mind, he could be pretty creative when thinking about all the ways he could mark you as his. And as usual, it made him hard and desperate for attention.

But it seemed you weren’t going to need a reminder of his claim on you after all. You had stepped away from the party and were now walking in his direction, your pretty dress caressing the dirt road in the wake of your steps. He couldn’t help but smile at the way you grinned at him, as if you were happy to see him too.

“Are you keeping an eye on me, Coriolanus Snow ?” You asked him, playfully, stopping in front of him just slightly closer than what he would have expected.

His whole body buzzed at the sound of his name coming out of your lips. He had never told you so it must mean you had asked around about him. Maybe you had been obsessing over him as much as he obsessed over you, trying to find out who he was and how you could keep being the object of his desires.

“Always since I know how good you are at sneaking around.” He replied, with a grin. He didn’t know your name, but he would eventually. He simply couldn’t ask anyone about you, not when it might bring negative attention on him from his superiors. And what about his colleagues ? They might think that you’re an easy girl, or at least one who isn’t bothered by the peacekeepers’ uniforms and try to flirt with you - very much like Junius had - if they knew. It was better if he kept it that way for now, you’d be his little secret. “You look lovely in that dress.”

“Thank you.” You replied, seemingly a bit surprised by such a compliment. “My friends got married today.”

He nodded. That much he had gathered, even though wedding celebrations definitely looked nothing like the ones he had seen in The Capitol. He glanced to the sad party, where one couple was now eating their toasted piece of bread while others looked at them with emotion in their eyes. You followed his gaze back to where you came from.

“I’m sorry, I can’t invite you it wouldn’t be…” You started, but stopped yourself as he shook his head.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate, of course.” He finished for you, with a smile meant to reassure you that he had absolutely no desire to be invited to such events anyway.

A moment of silence went by, a bit awkwardly. He couldn’t force you on your knees and get you to suck him off right there, in front of everyone, even though there wasn’t anything he wanted more at this very moment and you couldn’t bring a peacekeeper back to the party with you, so you were both frozen with indecision, unsure of what else to do when you couldn’t put your hands - and mouths - on each other.

Despite daylight, an orange lightning illuminated the sky, fracturing the black clouds over your heads. A few seconds later, a loud bang resonated against the wooden walls of the nearby cabins, making the road under your feet tremble. Rain instantly poured down from the clouds, cold drops of water mixed with icy hail, piercing through the leaves of the trees and bouncing off of the roofs and ground.

Coriolanus left out a curse as the wedding party he was meant to keep in check dissolved, people hurrying in different directions to take shelter from the hail. If anything happened now, it would be his fault because he wouldn’t be able to tell if everyone went back to their cabins or if anything illegal took place afterwards…

You pulled him out of his thoughts by taking his hand in yours and guiding him to the nearest shack on the road, just as another lightning hit the ground, a lot closer than where the previous one did. You opened the door and pushed the peacekeeper in, closing it just as the roaring thunder reverberated through the street.

Coriolanus took in the modest house he was standing in, the few pieces of furniture and the broken window above the kitchen sink. It was about the size of his dormitory, but contained everything a house should, there even was a bed in the far corner of the room.

“You can stay here until the storm passes… If you want.” You suggested, the confidence you had been able to display during your previous encounters with him suddenly gone. Maybe because you felt awfully more vulnerable having him standing in your home rather than in a more public place. “Your clothes are wet, maybe I could hang them to dry ?”

A smirk appeared on his lips at your words and you smiled back at him, slightly blushing. He fixed his pale blue eyes on you as he slowly began unbuttoning his vest, you followed the movement of his fingers with eager eyes. He remembered how it felt when it wasn’t his buttons he was so deftly working on but you, pumping his finger deep inside the warmth his cock was so desperate to be buried in too.

He removed his vest, carefully placed his gun on the kitchen table and took off his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest and broad shoulders. He saw the way your eyes widened at the sight and liked how you couldn’t help but stare at his muscles, gaze lowering at the same speed your cheeks were gaining colors.

He opened his pants, lowered his underwear and left his erection proudly stand up from the fabric. He was hard for you, so hard it was almost unbearable, and you had barely done anything yet, apart from wearing a dress that hugged your silhouette and smile at him. It was kind of pathetic, how he probably could have come undone simply from closing his eyes and imagining his cum shooting out of his spent cock inside of you… Either buried deep in your wet pussy, either lodged down your throat while you gagged on his length, or even painting your face and chest with his cum again, the lovely sight it had been the first time still burned in his memory.

There were so many ways he wanted you. If he could have it his way, he’d probably lock you up in his dorm so that he could come back to you and fuck you mercilessly every time he felt the need to. Having you at his disposal would be such a relief for his cock - and hand. Maybe he’d finally manage to get you out of his mind if he could indulge in every fantasy he had about you, act out every scenario, test out everything he thought of, until he no longer had anything to think about to bring his cock to life at the most inconvenient times.

Although you seemed a bit more reserved this time, you still had the courage to reach behind your back to unzip your pretty dress, the fabric instantly falling and pooling around your feet.

Coriolanus’ blood changed course and flew to his already stretched cock, making it even harder and twitching with impatience. What a perfect sight you were, standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear. It wasn’t a fancy set of lingerie like the girls from The Capitol usually wore but maybe it was because you weren’t a girl from The Capitol that he was so obsessed with you. You were a district girl, and he had never seen a body more beautiful than yours, even in plain underwear that didn’t even match. It was as if he had designed you himself, the shape of you perfectly tailored to his preferences, with curves and dips that drove him crazy and plump, soft, skin that haunted his sleepless nights. It left him unable to decide between his desires to ravage you or worship you.

He stepped forward and carefully pulled the straps of your bra down your shoulders. He unclasped the hooks in your back, a bit less assured than he wanted you to believe he was and, once he was able to pull your bra off, he took a step back to admire your bare chest. Perfect.

He pressed a hand to your tender flesh, excitement buzzing in his veins when he felt the soft malleability of your breast. His hands weren’t calloused like the ones of the miners you probably knew, they were soft and delicate, a clear sign of his luckier upbringing.

He leaned down to place a kiss against your neck, just so he could press his body against yours, feel your heat, the warmth of your skin radiating against his. It was the most intimate he had ever been, with you and with anyone else. He couldn’t say he disliked how it felt, but it was also terrifying. He couldn’t let himself be too vulnerable with you, not when it risked leading to feelings he really didn’t want to have for a district girl like you. He already barely could manage how badly he wanted you, how much he thought about you, day and night… What if he fell in love now ? Surely, it would ruin his life.

No, there wouldn’t be any feelings, not on his side and not on yours either. It was just sex. Really good sex. But just that.

He didn’t have to be soft with you so that you’d like him, he could just take what he needed and give you what you wanted too and call it quits. Yeah, it was a good plan. Flawless even.

He pulled your panties down with a rough motion, taking you by surprise. You barely had time to kick the crumpled fabric off of your feet when he reached for the back of your knees, lifting you up into his arms with your legs closing around his hips for support.

He took a few steps until your back was pressed against the wall. Your face was so close to his, your wet lips making it so hard for him to resist kissing them with all the depth of his passion for you.

No feelings. He reminded himself.

He pushed his hips forward, his hard cock easily gliding through your arousal. You were so ready for him. Just like you had been the other day. And this time he wasn’t going to deny himself the pleasure of being inside you. He pressed himself all the way up to your entrance, finding an unexpected resistance on the way. He heard your breath catch in your throat as he attempted to pass it, noticing the grimace on your face but since you didn’t ask him to stop, he kept trying to dive into the surprising tightness of your pussy.

He felt your hands clasping his shoulders for stability, your body writhing with discomfort at the invasion. He knew he was fairly big - bigger than the fingers he had put inside you at least - but he didn’t expect you to be so incredibly tight around him. The pressure of your walls clenching on him almost making him dizzy with the intensity of the pleasure it built in his abdomen.

Then, without a warning, you suddenly relaxed and your pussy seemed to swallow him whole, finally allowing him to fully bury himself inside of your wetness. He cursed at the sensation and you quietly cried out when he hit the deepest point possible.

You still felt tight, but you were finally giving him permission to move. He gently rocked himself, getting his cock to slide back and forth as a way to loosen you up. He was molding you to fit him. Him, and no one else.

No feelings.

He closed his eyes. He could come just from this but he wasn’t going to be selfish. Not when he wanted you to keep wanting him as much as he did. So he focused, keeping his movements slow and wide despite how fast and rough his brain urged him to go.

Suddenly, you came, digging your nails in his shoulders and whimpering against his neck, your pussy contracting around his cock, forcing him to stop his movements inside you again and stand completely still while you moaned in bliss. He was good at this, it was his second time making you reach your climax and it gave him an unreasonable amount of pride each time he achieved this. This time especially, had merely felt like work at all, you simply couldn’t take that many slow thrusts inside you. And now your cunt was contracting around him, trying to milk cum out of him like the only thing missing from your orgasm was a load of his release inside you. But he wasn’t going to give it to you, not yet. No matter how limp your body suddenly felt in his arms and how you cried out as soon as he resumed his thrusts, he was going to fuck you until he was satisfied this time.

He adjusted his grip on your body and carried you to the bed, lying you down and immediately placing himself on top of you, putting his dick back exactly where it belonged, buried deep inside you. His hands behind both of your knees, he held your legs against his hips as he pushed himself back and forth in you, on his knees while you were lying down with your head resting on your pillow. He could feel the pleasure bubbling inside him, demanding more to finally explode and allow him some relief. He was so desperate to finish, he needed to fill you up with his seed, make sure you would be his from now on. Hell, he wanted to spill everything he could inside you until he was bone dry and then, feed you every drop that might escape from your folds so that none of his release would go to waste.

He leaned forward, the weight of his body shifting and pressing yours deeper into the mattress. The bed was creaking loudly with each of his violent thrusts, menacing to break, while your cries of agonizing pleasure escaped through the broken window, mixing with the splatter of the heavy rain outside and the low rumble of thunder.

It wasnt so much the way he drove himself in and out of you, fast and without mercy, that pushed him off of the edge but the sight of you, gasping for air like you couldn’t take him anymore, crying out his name with half of your face buried in your pillow, your pretty lips forming a perfect oval as he finally groaned and released himself inside you, making you climax once more, in unison with him this time.

He filled you up, waiting until his cock was done twitching, the very last drops of cum dripping from his tip before he took it out. He needed to catch his breath now but the way you were still shaking with pleasure in front of him, beautiful as ever and claimed by him made his heart race.

Rain and hail crashed noisily on the roof of the cabin, covering the sound of your panting breaths, lightning illuminating the darkness that had filled the room every once in a while. He knew that his friends were probably waiting for him back at the barracks, that his superiors might start wondering where he was since he wasn’t on permission yet, but he couldn’t get himself to leave. Not yet. He had been dreaming, imagining, fantasizing about this moment for too long to cut it short. The way you had felt, how your body looked without any clothes on, your face when he poured his release inside you, everything had exceeded his expectations. You were truly perfect for him. And he no longer could resist kissing your lips, making sure you’d understand how obsessed he was with you.

No feelings.

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letmesniffurdaddysfeet · 3 months

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Forbidden Desires - my boss - Part 1

My boss has always had a certain allure to him. He may not be a model, with his extra pounds and graying beard, but he exudes an aura of masculinity. I try my best to hide any hint of my fantasies, especially since our relationship has been strictly professional and even friendly since I started working here one year ago. He seems to appreciate my work, and I strive to be the model employee. But deep down, I can't help but imagine walking into his office for something other than just dropping off the weekly sales report... His 'daddy bear' demeanor in a suit is incredibly alluring. However, what was once just a fantasy has become slightly more complicated with this upcoming business trip. The news that I would be accompanying the big boss on our company's annual conference in Chicago has stirred up conflicting emotions within me.

As the day of departure approached, I found myself both nervous and excited about the trip. It was a rare opportunity to spend extended time with my boss outside of the office, and I couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in my stomach. Packing my bags, I tried to push aside any inappropriate thoughts that crept into my mind. This was a business trip, after all.

Arriving at the airport, I spotted him waiting by our gate, looking as handsome and commanding as ever in his tailored suit. He greeted me with a warm smile, and we boarded the plane together. The hours in the air passed quickly with work-related discussions and polite small talk.

As we checked into our hotel in Chicago, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending the next few days in such close proximity to him. But as we entered our shared suite, I reminded myself to maintain professionalism at all times.

Little did I know that this business trip would test my resolve in ways … I never could have imagined. The first day of the conference went smoothly, with my boss leading meetings and networking with other professionals in our industry. As we returned to our hotel room that evening, I excused myself to take a quick shower before dinner.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, my body still damp from the shower and wrapped in only a towel, I was shocked to see my boss leaning against the window. He had his back to me as he changed into fresh clothes, but I couldn't help but steal glances at his muscular chest and strong arms.

Feeling my heart racing and heat rising to my cheeks, I quickly looked away, trying to compose myself. But the desire stirring within me was growing stronger by the second.

"Sorry, I thought I would have time to change before you finished your shower," my boss said with a casual smile as he turned to face me. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Suppressing a shaky smile, I desperately repeated the mantra "Don't get turned on, don't get turned on!" His intense gaze bore into me as he asked if I wanted anything from downstairs. My reply was a stammered mess, trying to mask my embarrassment and will my body not to betray me by getting hard. As he left the room, I exhaled a shaky breath of relief... only to realize my cock was fully erect and pulsating with arousal. Hurriedly grabbing some clean clothes from my suitcase, I caught sight of my boss's socks lying innocently on the corner of the bed. An irresistible impulse took over as I brought them up to my face, burying my nose in their musky scent without a second thought. The rush of pleasure was overwhelming as my penis leaked precum, revealing in the potent masculine aroma emanating from the fabric. I couldn't resist any longer and eagerly tasted the sweat-soaked socks with my tongue, savoring every drop of testosterone-laden essence.

In that moment, I was lost in an intoxicating frenzy of lust and desire. My fingers reached down to my pulsating erection, and I began to stroke myself slowly, relishing the silky texture of the socks against my skin. The sensation of my own arousal mixed with the scent of my boss's sweat filled my mind and body.

images flash through my mind, his smug face at his desk, feet propped up, barking orders for me to serve him.'' Take off my shoes and lick my feet !"

My hands tremble as I grab one of his dirty socks and wrap it around my throbbing cock. With a perverse hunger, I taste the other sock with my tongue, imagining it's his sweaty foot flesh. It all becomes too much and I explode in ecstasy, a guttural moan escaping my lips. But as reality crashes back in, I'm left holding the evidence of my taboo act, consumed by shame and the fear of being caught.

Out of breath and reeling from the intensity of my climax, I quickly wiped the remnants of my release with the damp towel. My heart was pounding, and adrenaline rushed through my veins. I realized that I had no idea what time it was or how long he had been gone. I couldn't shake the guilt or the thrill of the taboo act. The scent of my boss's socks still lingered in the air, a potent reminder of my sinful actions.

As I carefully disposed of the socks, a wave of paranoia washed over me. What if he came back early? Or caught a whiff of the forbidden aroma? My mind raced with hypothetical scenarios, and I knew that I had to find a solution. I couldn't let my feelings for him cloud my judgment or put my job in jeopardy. And yet, the thought of his commanding presence and the pleasure he had given me was too powerful to ignore. My mind was in a constant tug-of-war between my desire and my fear.

In a state of intense confusion, I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, hoping to clear my head. As I stepped outside, I couldn't help but feel the lingering effects of the intimate encounter with my boss's socks. The air outside felt fresh and invigorating, but all I could think about was the taboo act I had committed.

I aimlessly wandered, trying to distract myself from the overwhelming thoughts. Eventually, I stopped at a coffee shop and returned to my room. And there he was, holding his dirty socks with my cum on them, waiting for me...

#socks #guys in socks #sock play #sock worship #black socks #dress socks #sheer socks #daddyfeet #malefeet #gayfeet

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thesoftgirlguide · 3 months

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A Soft Girl's Guide to Home Organization ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Decluttering and creating a peaceful sanctuary in your home.

I’ve had such a stressful, depressing week and one of the things that made me feel better everyday was coming back to a neat, decluttered room. As a soft girl, you must value comfort, elegance, and serenity in all aspects of your life, including your home. A cluttered and disorganized space can be overwhelming and draining, making it challenging to relax and unwind. In today’s guide, we'll explore gentle and effective home organization and decluttering methods, tailored specifically for a girl like you.

╰┈➤ The Soft Girl’s Approach to Decluttering

🌸 It all starts with a mindful mindset. Acknowledge that decluttering is a process, and it's okay to take it one step at a time.

🌸 Focus on gentle decluttering. Prioritize items that bring joy or serve a purpose, rather than strict minimalism.

🌸 Create a soothing atmosphere: Play calming music, light candles, or diffuse essential oils to make the process enjoyable.

╰┈➤ Define Your Organization Goals

Before you begin decluttering, set clear intentions. Ask yourself:

🌸 Why do I want to organize my home? Is it for relaxation, creativity, or efficiency?

🌸 What do I like about my home’s current layout? Identify what works and what needs changing.

🌸 What are my pain points? Recognize areas that stress you out.

╰┈➤ Crafting a Master Plan

🌸 Take Inventory: List spaces that need organization (closets, kitchen, living room, etc.).

🌸 Arrange tasks based on your life—room by room or category by category.

🌸 If you can’t do it all in a day, allocate time in your schedule for dedicated organization sessions.

╰┈➤ Decluttering Room by Room

🌸 Begin with small areas: If you’re cleaning out just your room always start with your bed. Once you take care of your bed, everything else looks “wrong.” You can move on to drawer, shelf, or closet to build momentum and confidence.

🌸 Sort items into categories: Group similar items together (e.g., books, clothes, kitchen utensils).

🌸 Use the "touch once" rule: Handle each item only once to avoid repetitive decision-making.

╰┈➤ Organizing Strategies

🌸 Utilize storage containers: Choose decorative bins, baskets, and boxes that complement your home's aesthetic.

🌸 Implement the "one in, one out" policy: Maintain a balanced amount of possessions to prevent clutter buildup.

🌸 Designate a "launching pad": Create a designated spot near the entrance for keys, bags, and other essentials.

╰┈➤ Tackling Paper Clutter

🌸 Create a paper sorting station: Designate a spot for sorting mail, bills, and documents.

🌸 Digitize important documents: Scan and store papers electronically, shredding or recycling the originals. If you can’t do that, find a place a store them.

🌸 Organize digital files: Use cloud storage and clear file names to access documents effortlessly.

╰┈➤ How to Maintain Your Sanctuary

Now that you’ve cleaned out your space, you have to maintain it. To do this:

🌸 Schedule regular decluttering sessions: Set aside time each month to maintain your space.

🌸 Practice mindful consumption: Be intentional about purchases, considering whether they align with your values and needs.

🌸 Embrace the "home for everything" rule: Assign a designated spot for each item to prevent clutter accumulation.

Transforming your home into a personal sanctuary requires patience, self-care, and willingness. Remember, organization and decluttering are ongoing processes – be kind to yourself, and enjoy the journey.

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alice-after-dark · 5 months

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Vox & Alastor's Portrayal of Power

Vox and Alastor handle their public and power very differently. Alastor wants to inspire fear. Vox, however, wants adoration. Yes, of course he wants people to respect his power, but his ultimate drive is for the public to love and admire him. And so he must tailor his image to please them whereas Alastor tailors his image to terrify.

Like, for contrast, when Alastor is walking down the street having his chat with Zestial, we see sinners literally lighting themselves on fire out of fear. That's how terrified the public is of these two. They would rather set themselves on fire than risk whatever they might do to them.

We see the polar opposite with Vox.

When Vox comes out of his elevator, there is a massive crowd of people ready and practically salivating to talk to him. They don't run. They don't lose their minds at his arrival. They bend over backwards to try and get close to him. And Vox loves every second of it. He slaps on his public persona and does what he does best: put on a show. His slogan is literally "Trust Us."

Now, I'm absolutely certain that Vox has publicly displayed his power on several occasions (can't have people forgetting that he is in fact a powerful Overlord), but I guarantee you that all of these incidents have been carefully calculated for his image. He can't just go off on some random bystander for looking at him the wrong way (like Valentino would). He probably waits for some blatant show of disrespect and then very quickly and efficiently puts them in their place. It's not a big dramatic show like Alastor or a mindless rampage like Valentino. It's swift, it's clean, and it's terrifying. But because he doesn't lose his shit at every little thing, it still leaves him approachable.

Arguably, he is the most personable and approachable of the Vees and he likes it that way. Valentino is charming when he wants/needs to be, but also volatile and hostile and easily enraged when things don't go his way. Velvette...well, she's more likely to just ignore you entirely but that's her brand, she is that #bitch after all (which Vox will gladly take over a public tantrum; besides, it means when she does engage, it's all the more impactful). With Vox, however, people hang on his every word and opinion and flock to him when something big happens (look at how sinners specifically cared about his opinion regarding the shifted Extermination deadline). His image is everything and controlling that image is his top priority because it's how he controls the public.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin alastor #hazbin headcanons #radiostatic #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin velvette #hazbin valentino #the vees

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odessa-2 · 7 months

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Titbits and analysis 🖖

As promised, some more titbits from the Con yesterday in Melbourne as well as my interpretations. Prior to attending yesterday, I told myself to keep an open mind and attempt to leave any biases behind (even after having seen the funeral pics). Clean slate. To try and view Sam, the event, questions, and subsequent behaviours objectively.

I'm the sort of person who feels energy and is affected by it and in some ways governed by it. The energy of people, both individually and collectively. The energy of a group. I tend to couple this with objective analysis, which forms the basis of my conclusions about people and situations.

I applied this method yesterday in attempting to understand and view Sam, the OL money 💰 machine and everything else. I also just wanted to go there and bask in the audience and enjoy myself....and....I did like it Jamie.

So first thing I noticed off the cuff was how experienced Sam was in handling questions, and the women, and tailoring his behaviour to suit their desires. He was charming, charismatic, approachable, a skilled professional. I saw the veneer. I felt the veneer. I also saw and felt that he is a pretty decent bloke under that veneer. A man with a solid work ethic, who is mild mannered and working with purpose in his life.

I observed that his handler or Convention agent or whatever he is, Steve, was in full control. He managed Sam's performance in a sense. He asked the questions and even set the directions for some answers. Sam is controlled. I didn't like Steve. I didn't get the best vibe off him. Infact, I got a bad vibe off him. I observed that everything was a performance. Scripted to a large degree. The Single Sam narrative was pushed by Steve. Hard. It was a performance. That much was clear to me.

So Sam chose to mention that he was in Austria skiing 2 weeks ago....blah blah...something about singing a Ronan Keating song. So the script tells everyone nice and early that he is NOT with Caitriona ✅️

Later on in the panel, he mentioned that he "was at the theatre in London the week earlier" watching a play. Huh? Getting his timeline confused? Interesting titbit, I thought. Who would he go to the theatre with whilst in London? Who else likes to go to the theatre? Who have we seen him go to the theatre with before? Ding ding ding!!

One of the first things he spoke about (umprompted) and imo was part of his speaking program, was that Caitriona is back home in Scotland doing prep work and will be directing this season. He said that he spoke to her recently and that she is cold and miserable back home. No one seemed to give a shit. The women were there for their Jamie. Sam read the crowd. He understood.

Sam tried to bring Cait into the conversation again saying something like "Where's Claire?....Caitriona isn't here". Again crickets from the audience.

He said that he auditioned with a lot of Claire's, but they couldn't find the right fit and that nobody was as brilliant as Caitriona.

It sounded like he genuinely missed her.

He spoke of his audition with Cait, saying they were very physical and were almost wrestling each other. He said he was sweating all over her and that his sweat was on her. The crowd still only wanted to hear about their Jamie. I think Sam relished in being cheeky in saying that she wore his sweat that day.

Someone asked about "how do you kiss and make out with a costar and then just carry-on. Isn't it awkward"? Sam responded generally initially, saying that there's lots of checking in with the person and apologising afterwards (in a joking fashion). Then that prompted him to start talking about Cait saying that he has also "snotted" all over Cait and exchanged many body fluids with her (in an acting context presumably)and that there's nothing really left to do together that they haven't already done. I was like "whoooaa wtf Sam?". Shooketh that he said that really. The silence from the crowd was palpable. They really didn't want to hear about Cait and Sam and their shared bodily fluids whilst 'acting'. He is THEIR fantasy man. Not Caitriona's. Silence from the audience. Sam already knew that the crowd were Sam onlies but he loved telling this story. Relished in it imo. He loved the double entendre. It was an unrehearsed, unscripted conversation as it resulted from an audience question. I concluded it was an act of defiance on his behalf. That's what it felt like to me.

Steve the convention agent guy, was always bringing it back to Single Sam. "I worry how are you going to get a date" said Steve. With Sam understanding the prompt ...."I worry too" says Sam. Bachelor narrative secured ✅️

Steve spruked the Bachelor narrative again to Sam's thirsty and adoring fans....."Sam you remind me of that old show where everyone has to guess which bachelor is going to come out of the mystery door". And that's when I knew with 100 percent certainty that the bachelor talk was a ruse. It was so contrived and performative. I smiled to myself. The women in the crowd were eating it up.

Another thing that stood out to me was when Sam was searching for the right terminology when talking about Cait. "My......co star" huge pause.

"I love you Claire" is the line he randomly chose to say when explaining his acting.

When asked how he has time to foster friendships and spend time with his family he talked around it. Avoided the question and kept it about his friendships saying that they are strong friendships that endure. He diverged and started talking about how he still has his core friendships that he had when he was bunking and sharing an apartment/house with them in London when he was younger. The veneer was up. Inpenetrable.

At another point in the panel Sam asked "How many Sheila's are there here"? LOL. I found that amusing.

Now this next part captured my attention the most. It had a weird feeling (energy) around it . Sam gave off a weird energy. Almost hostile. Again that's just what I felt.

Someome from the audience named Toni with an "I" was selected to ask a question. I can't remember what the question was but Sam made a really big deal about her being named Toni. "There's always a Tony have you noticed"? Why is there always a Tony"? He said. He didn't want to drop it. He placed a little too much emphasis on it. I was laughing silently but Sam's double entendre didn't go unnoticed by me. Everyone else was clueless or at least that's how it appeared to me. Was that an Easter egg dropped by Sammy?

Asked about what does he do for self care, he seemed to struggle answering that too. He talked in circles about his way points hike and how he's learning how to live in the moment. There's that wall again.

There were many other things discussed of course but I thought I'd focus on the things that shed light on his situation and that resonated with me.

So my closing Analysis? Sam is controlled. He peforms. He caters. He's intelligent and in tune with people and aims to please but is private. Sunday just reaffirmed and solidified my beliefs. Caitriona snatched up that hard working gem of a man quick smart!

#hublander #odessa-2 #melbourne #sam heughan

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furuyalover · 5 months

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Hey bae! Can I request the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra, with any of the Haikyuu boys for your music event? - 🫧

somethin’ stupid | mars & her music event

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'i love you'"

— ft. iwaizumi hajime

AN: tysm for ur request! this was so much fun to write & ty for joining my event! for any readers int in participating, more info ab it here ! also this is on the longer side so cozy up, & get ready for some iwa fluff

"i know i stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me..."

you were at a semi-formal event put on by your school, aoba johsai. despite the amount of people there, the ballroom in which the ball took place had a tranquil atmosphere. seeing your classmates in an elegant manner, looking at some of them and thinking oh wow they clean up nice, it was a rather lovely change of pace. however, only one student in particular really caught your eye. that student, of course, was the one and only, iwaizumi hajime.

he looked radiant. you've really never seen him in anything outside of his school and volleyball uniforms, so he was really a sight for sore eyes. the suit he wore was well-tailored, but you could still make out the defined muscles on his biceps. he was so elegant and well mannered in this setting, and it certainly helped that his best friend sitting next to him was being as obnoxious as usual, making iwaizumi's polished manner even more apparent,

hajime also had his eyes set on someone, you. he only ever sees you at school, in your required uniforms, so he was stricken with adornment when he saw you tonight. he had always admired you, had even a secret crush on you, (which of course was obvious to the whole volleyball team based off how much he mentions you) seeing you dressed so lovely, and looking even more beautiful than usual, how could he not gaze at you like that? but when he saw you being approached by other students, telling you how gorgeous you looked, his insecurities got the best of him. why should i even try? they already have all these other guys romancing them, i wouldn't even stand a chance, he would mumble to himself. oh how little the boy knows..

"i practice everyday to find some clever lines to make the meaning come through. but then i think i'll wait til the evening gets late, and i'm alone with you..."

after talking it over with his best friend who sat beside him, tooru oikawa, he decided to just say screw it and muster up enough courage to talk to you. he & oikawa practiced exactly what he's going to say to you, since tonight will be the night he finally confesses to you. after ensuring that his words will be perfect, he gathers all his confidence to get up, and begin walking to where you're standing & talking to a few classmates.

"the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue"

he slowly makes his way over to you, being sure that you aren't talking to anyone by the time he approaches you. everything is gonna go perfectly, he'll have the perfect moment to tell what he's been feeling all these months.

after finishing some conversations with friends, out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face walking towards you. is iwaizumi really coming over here? oh my god this is really happening, shit i hope i look okay. you frantically pat down your hair and clothes, to make sure you hopefully look perfect by the time iwa sees you. when he finally gets to you, you notice something about him is different. he seems more reserved than usual, almost seemingly shy?

"iwaizumi! i didn't know if you were gonna make it today, great to see you!" you say smiling like an idiot. "please, call me hajime. great to see you too, you look stunning." flustered by his affection, you look down smiling to hide your beet red face. hajime is hit with relief because now you hopefully won't see how red he is himself. "hey don't wanna sound weird or anything, but would you wanna step outside with me for a sec? there's something i need to get off my chest." your eyes widened, nervous at what he could possibly have to say. but regardless you nod in agreement as he takes you outside.

the two of you gaze out to the sky, on the balcony just outside the venue of the formal, in partially comfortable partially awkward silence. "so, um, what was it you wanted to say?" you nervously ask to try and break the ever so loud silence. fuck. iwaizumi thought. all his practice with oikawa? yea, that all went out the window because suddenly his mind is going a million miles per minute. he has so many thoughts running through his head, but he just can't seem to find the words, nor the confidence, to voice them. but before you know, the stern and intimidating volleyball player you're used to turns into a rambling mess.

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, 'i love you'..."

"i don't really know how to say this, but fuck it i'll just try" he starts. you take a step back to look at him, a little confused, but waiting to hear the rest. "y/n, i really like, maybe even love you. i don't know, i'm bad with feelings, but i do know that you're all i think about. i never shut up about you, and i think you're the most perfect person put on this earth. i know i'm not oikawa, and that you probably have tons of other guys who want you and i probably sound stupid but i jus-" he stops suddenly when realized that you've wrapped your arms around him and engulfed him in a hug. after hesitantly wrapping his muscular arms around you, he relaxes a bit more, and eases into your touch.

with the side of your face resting on his chest, you look up at him beaming. both of you blushing profusely, but neither of you pay any attention to that. after a moment of just staring at each other, you finally say with a smile "you are kinda stupid hajime, i like you too, maybe even love also. i don't know how you haven't picked up on that yet" this just makes iwaizumi pull you in tighter, it feels like all his dreams had just came true.

"oh my god he finally did it" "god it's about time" oikawa and hanamaki groan to each other. yes they watched this whole thing go down for a comfortable distance, partially to make fun of him but also just to support their close friend from afar

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

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dirt2neat · 6 months

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#dirt2neat #carpet cleaning #Exceptional Expertise #State-of-the-Art Technology #Tailored Cleaning Approaches #Client-Centric Approach

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egcdeath · 2 months

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getting down to business

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you and patrick deal with pre-wedding nerves. (part of the succession/tomshiv adjacent au. previous parts here: part 1 and part 2)

word count: 6.3k

warnings: mostly fluffy with a hint of angst, a touch of jealousy, some allusions to cheating but no written cheating, tashi cameo but she’s a little mean, weddings, a bit of family drama, super brief mention of alcohol, a little domesticity and cheesiness at the end

author’s note: this is very much the calm before the failmarriage storm.

i would be remiss if i did not thank my succession anon for all of their help with brainstorming this fic and au. i mean it when i say that this literally would not exist without them. i hope you all enjoy!!

You were no stranger to anxiety, but as you sat at a vanity in a bedroom located in a castle, applying mascara in a way that was much more meticulous than mascara application ever called for, you couldn’t deny that this particular flavor of anxiety was something that you hadn’t ever experienced.

It was a strange mixture of excitement, knowing that you’d finally be marrying Patrick in just under 24 hours, fear of what the future may hold for you, and a touch of dread of having to spend the evening with a mixed bag of guests—some who loved you and hated your fiancé, others who hated you and loved your fiancé, and a few who didn’t particularly care for either of you.

Your eyelashes were beginning to look a bit like spider legs, so you put the wand down and let out a long, drawn out breath. Everything was going to be fine.

In a stark contrast to you, Patrick strolled out of the bathroom confidently, his posture so impeccable that it could put anyone to shame by just looking at them. He had no reason not to look as sure of himself as he did, as he looked absolutely dashing in the tailored suit he wore. If you weren’t so anxious, you certainly would’ve commented on how handsome he looked—maybe even running a hand down his chest or copping a feel of his ass that looked criminally good in his pants.

“Ready?” he asked after approaching you where you sat on the bench in front of the vanity before setting a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you laughed nervously and looked at the two of you in the mirror in front of you. You snaked your hand up to set it on top of his and gently squeezed it.

“That doesn’t sound very ready to me,” he sat down next to you, the two of you barely fitting on the small bench.

“Sorry. I am ready to marry you. I’m not ready to mingle with your family and my work associates,” you shifted your gaze from looking at Patrick in the mirror, to looking at him beside you. “Can you believe that by this time tomorrow, we’ll be married?”

His expression briefly shifted away from one of confidence to one of nerves, the moment so small that anyone else would miss it, but after knowing him for as long as you did, you picked up on it with ease. Though he was putting on a brave face, it was somewhat of a relief to know that he was feeling just as anxious as you.

“If it’s any comfort, your guests don’t like me very much either. We’ll just stick together and have each other’s backs.”

“Sure,” you agreed and smiled at him, though you knew that things were never that simple when his family were involved. You kissed Patrick’s clean-shaven cheek, leaving behind the smallest hint of a lipstick mark. He turned his face to look at it in the mirror, and set his hand on top of the space that you just pecked.

“I hope you know that I’m not wiping that off.”

“Good. Let everyone know you’re mine,” you grinned, then stood up and walked away from the vanity and over to the floor to ceiling window that gave you the perfect view of your first few guests arriving, milling about and talking with each other.

It didn’t take long for Patrick to join you, wordlessly announcing his arrival by setting his hand on the small of your back as he stood beside you, taking in the scene below you.

“Should we just run away and get married at a courthouse or something? No guests, no castle, no fancy rings, just you and me?” you asked jokingly, though your words had the slightest bit of truth to them. Genuinely, you would marry Patrick anywhere or any time. You would marry him right in that bedroom, though the fact that the bedroom was located inside of a castle only slightly betrayed your sentiment of not needing extravagance.

Patrick laughed at your words, so you laughed along with him. Your laughter was a welcome antidote to your nerves, your anxiety dispelling with every rise and fall of your chest.

“I would marry you anywhere,” Patrick said rather earnestly for what should’ve been a joke. “But our guests are starting to arrive, and I don’t want to piss anyone off by being late. Let’s go?”

“Good point,” you agreed, wasting no time by pacing back over to the vanity and taking one last good look at yourself.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Patrick complimented as he set a hand on the small of your back once more, subtly shepherding you to the door. “You know how much I love that dress on you.”

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you replied as you closed and locked the door behind you.

“Even at my best, I couldn’t look a fraction of how good you do.”

“Are you sure? You clean up pretty nicely.”

The two of you went back and forth as you walked out, your silly and meaningless banter a welcome distraction from the particular flavor of nerves that your wedding produced.

The months leading up to your wedding were nothing short of an absolute whirlwind. Between deliberating on cake flavors and laborious dress fittings, you were relieved that the drama of your engagement was finally coming to an end, but slightly anxious to see what your marriage had in store for you.

You were pretty sure that nothing would really change—that was the case for most other couples, so you couldn’t see why that would be any different for you—other than your net worth increasing by a few billion, of course.

Patrick had been a bit of a diva leading up to the wedding. Though you had some of the best wedding planners money could buy, he seemed to be stressed and nitpicking every single detail that they ran by him. It started off as sweet that he was so worried about giving you the best wedding possible, but eventually became a little concerning to see your fiancé practically pull out his own hair over an event that would only last a few days. Still, it was a relief to finally see the fruits of his labor pay off, and to know that his higher stress levels would finally come to an end.

While you were excited for Patrick’s stress to conclude, you were also ready for the rumors and gossip of you being a gold digger to be put to bed. You would think that after years of being together with Patrick, people would eventually stop accusing you of being his sugar baby or someone who slept her way to the top–but no, the tabloids and his family always seemed to have something to say about your relationship. Surely, tying the knot and legally being bound to one another would give the media a little less to discuss, and might finally shut up his sisters.

You would never forget the look on their faces when Patrick announced that the two of you were engaged. You weren’t exactly sure if he meant to do it as unceremoniously as he did, but after growing tired of seeing you being picked on at a family dinner, he finally revealed the news by referring to you as his fiancé. It was nice to not have to hide anything, but if you’d known that you would spend the next several months hearing the same lines about how they never expected their commitment-phobic sibling to marry someone, let alone a small-town nobody, you would’ve kept it secret until the day of the ceremony.

Regardless, his family was your family now, and your family was his–which was something you tried to explain to him as you attempted to convince him to come to Minnesota with you and meet your parents for the first time. After years of your relationship (and years of Patrick putting off meeting your family), he finally agreed to come back home with you. Though the trip didn’t go as well as either of you probably would’ve liked, with your parents turning out to not be the biggest fan of your fiancé, you were at least able to check that box off.

Besides, it was basically a rite of passage to hate your in-laws. At least that aspect of your relationship felt normal.

As the date of your wedding grew closer, you couldn’t help but notice Patrick’s weird moods. How he’d pull away from you and grow distant when you brought up how soon the wedding was, or how he’d occasionally reject your affection shortly after you mentioned that he’d be your husband in a short while.

Not to mention the prenup. You would remember that conversation for years to come–how he awkwardly served you the papers over breakfast, giving you a manila envelope and an awkward justification of how his family insisted on it and that it was just a formality, how you eagerly agreed to sign it regardless of his contents, and how he insisted that you at least have a lawyer look over it.

The following circumstances were somehow even more awkward–the phone call you had with your mother after she looked through the document where she advised you against signing it and pointed out that the document seemed to have a clause for everything under the sun except infidelity. Even worse was the conversation you had with Patrick after your call with your mom, and the weird way he danced around that particular clause–or the lack thereof.

Still, you were so in love with your partner and wanted to marry him so bad that it didn’t even seem like an issue. You knew Patrick had a lot going on, but you were more than pretty sure that he would never cheat on you.

You all but put that out of your mind, not letting a few weird instances get in the way of you marrying your dream man.

Once your bachelorette party came around, you made the mistake of taking the party out of your closest friends’ hands and into the hands of one of Patrick’s sisters, who insisted that she be in charge of the event. Several fun cocktails, some sort of business meeting between Patrick’s sisters and the owner of the family’s biggest competitor, and one tablet of molly later, his sisters were loaded with blackmail material for the rest of your life.

Stress around your wedding only seemed to continue to grow as the date grew closer, with Patrick managing to somehow grill your wedding planners even more, his father declaring that he wouldn’t be attending the wedding at the very last minute after Patrick somehow pissed him off, and your parents putting pressure on you to reconsider the union altogether.

To say that you were relieved that this pre-wedding chapter of your life was closing was a complete understatement. You could only hope that the event finally happening would put an end to the endless cycle of tension and drama that was turning out to be your wedding.

You did your best to hide your relief as you stood in the pathway in front of his mother’s castle and clung onto Patrick’s side, greeting your guests with a friendly wave or a hug if they were particularly close to either of you. You spent so much time waving, shaking hands, and hugging that your arms were beginning to go sore, and you were starting to grow worried that the next person who shook your hand and complimented your appearance would be on the receiving end of an unwarranted angry outburst.

Luckily for both of you, the endless greeting and small talk was beginning to come to a close. Most of your guests arrived right on time, if not earlier than expected, and were all chattering amongst themselves on the inside of the old building.

As you were beginning to wind down, finally letting out the hefty sigh you’d been holding all evening, a sleek black car pulled up, and out walked one of the most gorgeous women you’d ever laid eyes on. Looking like she sauntered right off the cover of a magazine and donning a dress that looked particularly similar to yours—save for its red hue—you couldn’t help but lock your eyes on her as the valet took her vehicle and she walked toward the two of you.

The woman approached Patrick first, shaking his hand in an almost awkward way, as if she weren’t totally sure of what way was most appropriate to greet him.

“Glad you could make it, Tashi,” he said, sounding slightly awkward himself. His interaction with her was such a stark contrast to the way he held himself just a few guests ago that you almost couldn’t believe it.

It felt strange for you to be putting a name to the very beautiful face that was Tashi Duncan. You couldn’t help but wonder why Patrick seemed so awkward with his coworker, as if he didn’t work closely with her every day–though you figured it was more likely for him to be generally feeling uneasy from the wedding and the sheer amount of people you’d both just greeted, rather than anything with that one particular guest.

Still, something about meeting her felt a little off. You vaguely recalled when Patrick told you about working with her, soft launching his new position by telling you that he’d be working with an old friend from college. A week later, and her description turned into an old friend-with-benefits from college, and a few days after that it turned into the woman he dated for a few months. You’d been so offended at the time, but seeing her now, in all of her beauty and confidence, made you realize why your partner might want to keep that type of thing from you. Besides, you’d been the one to omit the information that you were almost engaged to the boyfriend you were with before Patrick until he’d come face-to-face with him during his trip to Minnesota–though that’d been more accidental than on purpose. Neither of you were perfect.

“Yeah, good to be here,” she commented, then looked up at the looming building above the three of you. “Glenn will be here later. He’s on his way but his flight got delayed. He should make it in time for the strategy session tonight, though.”

You were a little surprised at her ability to talk shop right away and so freely at your wedding, despite the policy you insisted on having no discussions of work. What was even more surprising was the fact that Patrick would be working on the eve of your wedding night. Surely, Glenn’s presidential campaign could wait a few days.

You bit your tongue despite the newfound complaints for your fiancé and continued to observe the two of them and the way that something seemed to hang over their interaction. Did a presidential campaign really call for all of that drama? Maybe they secretly hated each other. You would have to ask Patrick about it during your pre-wedding debrief.

“Cool. Well, there are drinks and snacks inside. I think Cornelia wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

“Cool,” she replied, parroting Patrick’s words. “Congrats, guys,” she said as she acknowledged you for the first time in your entire interaction.

She walked off without sparing you another glance, leaving you to look at your fiancé

“Want to head inside?” he questioned, all tension suddenly gone from the air.

“Sure,” you shrugged.

As the two of you walked inside, you held onto Patrick’s arm for the stability that walking on gravel in high heels required. “So that’s the famous Tashi?” you asked, mostly trying to make small talk.

“Yeah,” he replied, keeping his eyes glued in front of you.

“She’s hot,” you replied, mostly joking after what was clearly a very tense moment.

Patrick chuckled, but it sounded rather forced. You tried not to think too much of it. Besides, there was no time to think when you were immediately bombarded by your guests the moment you walked into the room.

The two of you socialized with guests as a unit for as long as you could both manage, knowing that both of you desperately needed the backup when it came to interacting with each other’s inner circles. You would never let Patrick take on your parents alone, and he would certainly try his best to not leave you alone with his sisters.

Somehow, the two of you still ended up separated once Patrick was whisked away by his mother—who he needed to give a stern talking to after she spent the evening making small talk with your guests by asking how long they thought your marriage would last—leaving you to take on the rest of the foreseeable evening on your own.

If you had to make small talk on your own, you at least needed something strong to drink. You wandered off to the bar to attempt to fulfill that need before you received yet another passive aggressive comment from Patrick’s mother about you not being the right person to marry. Though, you guessed if you owned a castle that would be inherited by one of your children, you would probably want their spouse to be an heiress, too.

You ordered yourself a cocktail then took in your surroundings, finding yourself surprised when you realized that you were standing right next to your fiancé’s coworker and ex-girlfriend.

It would be rude of you to wordlessly stare or to act like you hadn’t seen her after you already clearly made eye contact with her, so you had no choice but to commit to speaking to her, lack of liquid courage be damned.

“Great dress, by the way,” you referred to her dress that looked nearly identical to the one you were wearing. You’d picked it special for this occasion, its tight fit complementing your curves nicely and being one of your fiancé’s favorites in your closet.

“Thanks,” she looked down at the dress as if she were seeing it on her body for the first time. “This guy I knew used to really like this style.”

You raised your brows curiously, knowing that Patrick was a big fan of your form-fitting cocktail dress, much like the one Tashi was wearing. Surely, the man she was referring to was him.

You wondered if your fiancé’s taste hadn’t changed since college, or if the two of them discussed fashion often while they worked together. For some reason, you just couldn’t imagine Patrick showing his coworker a picture of his favorite dress of yours in his closet. For the first time that night, you felt genuinely uneasy. Was she trying to play some sort of mind game with your fiancé?

“You know, I never really thought that Patrick would settle down. Especially with someone like you,” she paused as she took the sight of you in and gauged your unmoved reaction. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you lied. “You’re not the first person to tell me that, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

You laughed the comment off, doing your best not to assume the worst of your guest, despite the fact that you were growing very tired of that sentiment. You’d heard it a thousand times from Patrick’s family, even more often from the press, and now from his ex-girlfriend. Besides the fact that it was painfully unoriginal, you didn’t need to be reminded that you were out of Patrick’s league at the frequency you were currently at. Hopefully, that would be yet another thing you would stop hearing after you finally tied the knot.

“Well, I don’t think any of us thought he would be able to get his shit together around love and commitment. You should’ve seen him back in his prime. God, he was such a slut. He was so scared of commitment that he would self-sabotage and cheat on everyone, even people he’d only been seeing for a few weeks. It’s honestly a miracle that we lasted as long as we did.”

What was the point of her sharing this information? Was she trying to play mind games with you?

“And how long was that?”

Three months. You asked as if you didn’t already know the answer. At least, you knew the answer that your fiancé told you.

“Not long,” she replied coolly, wholy unphased by the reminder that their relationship came and went. “All that’s to say, congratulations on domesticating Patrick Zweig. He talks about you like you’re the best invention since sliced bread. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You would certainly hope he talked about you so highly–especially to his ex who didn’t seem to be fully over him. You wondered if her little crush on your husband was as obvious to him as it was to you. Again, the thought made you feel uneasy.

You didn’t have the time to collect your thoughts enough to come up with a witty remark by the time that you were interrupted by your partner who was looking more than slightly disheveled by an urgent speed walk over to you.

“Hey!” he sounded slightly out of breath as he greeted the two of you. “Mind if I steal my fiancé?”

“She’s all yours,” she gave Patrick a smirk and for a moment, he looked mildly alarmed. The look didn’t last long, but it was enough for you to feel slightly unnerved. You didn’t enjoy feeling like you were out of the loop when it came to your partner, but you did your best to push the weird feeling you were having out of your mind. It was probably nothing.

You allowed yourself to be swept up with Patrick for the rest of the night, endlessly socializing with your guests despite your quickly depleting social battery. You didn’t even have it in you to protest when Patrick snuck off to meet with his candidate and Tashi, despite your plans to give him shit about working at a very explicitly no-work function.

The exhaustion of your day fully settled into your body the moment you stepped into your bedroom. You all but collapsed in bed, burying your face in a pillow that smelled distinctly of your fiancé’s shampoo. You lamented the fact that he wouldn’t be sharing a bed with you that night out of tradition and superstition. You had so much you wanted to discuss with him about the day, like his overzealous aunt who seemed to be following you around all evening, and his ex-girlfriend’s strange behavior. You wanted to ask him if he was as nervous for the ceremony as you were, or if seeing you in your dress turned him on as much as it turned you on to see him all dressed up in his suit.

Shit. Your dress. You needed to shower and take that annoying, tight thing off, then prepare your hair for the stylist in the morning, and do a twelve-step skincare routine to ensure that you looked as dewy and radiant as possible for your wedding.

You groaned into the Patrick-scented pillow at the idea of having to get up, but accepted the necessary evil with the knowledge that you’d thank yourself in the morning.

By the time you got yourself settled back in bed, you shot Patrick a text message that remained unanswered and tried to relax your racing mind enough for you to actually fall asleep.

A soft knock on your door disturbed your restless half-awake half-asleep state, the anxiety and excitement of getting married the next day coursing through your veins and preventing you from properly sleeping.

You didn’t respond to the knocking, hoping that the person might get the memo and walk away on their own. When the knocking happened again, this time with more gusto, you sighed as you got out of bed, fully prepared to snap at a drunk guest who wandered to your room and decided to bother the bride.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find that your visitor wasn’t a drunk guest at all, but your fiancé.

“Patrick?” you asked as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, still not completely sure that you weren’t dreaming.

“Yeah. Can I come in?”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you whisper-shouted. “It’s bad luck.”

“Do you really believe that?” he asked with half a smirk. Regardless of what you believed, you immediately knew that he would be seeing you in some capacity before your wedding, despite whatever old wives’ tales had to say about his action.

“I believe that I don’t want you to see me like this,” you gestured up to your face, where under-eye patches and a sticky face mask sat on your face.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he dismissed before worming his way into the room. You accepted defeat and closed the door behind him.

“Everything okay?” you asked him. “Having second thoughts already?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he dismissed. not really answering either of your questions.

“At,” you glanced at the clock on your bedside table, “3:35 in the morning? You’ll see me in a few hours. What’re you really here for? One last fling before the old ball and chain?” you joked, though you were genuinely curious about his middle of the night appearance.

He looked at you for a moment, trying to read your expression. You looked back at him just as openly, trying to figure out if you should continue joking with him or take his nerves seriously.

“Pat?” you asked again, trying to catch his attention.

“Sorry. Want to come out to the grounds with me?”

You glanced over at the clock once more, knowing you were going to be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but your fiancé looked like he was in need of a little late night debrief.

“Sure. Why not.”

Patrick waited patiently at the bench in front of your vanity as you searched for and pulled on a robe. You swore you heard the faint sound of him looking through your jewelry and makeup as you changed into something a little less pajama-like and peeled off the items on your face.

Your fiancé took your hand as the two of you left the room, leading you through the sprawling old castle. The two of you did your best to be quiet, though you couldn’t help but let out the occasional gasp of surprise at the sight of such an awe-inspiring building.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” you were slightly wonderstruck once you finally arrived at the massive garden, taking in the tall, neatly trimmed hedges that were currently surrounding you.

“I know. I spent so much of my childhood admiring it from afar. My mom always spent so much time and effort hiring people to make it as beautiful as it was, then never let us come out here.”

“That seems like a waste,” you commented as you sat down in a padded chair.

Your partner shrugged dismissively, never one to do any deep analysis on his very strange childhood. “Bring that up with her, I guess.”

“Does that mean we’re breaking the rules right now?” you asked with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sure she can make an exception for the newlyweds.”

“Not newlyweds yet,” you corrected. “Which reminds me, why did you bring me out here?”

“I wanted to show you the garden. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you repeated, then leaned into him. “Obviously you’re withholding information. So spill, before I start talking your ear off with gossip from today, since we didn’t get to do a debrief.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” he replied, though you both knew that wasn’t the truth. “Is it a crime for me to want to see my beautiful fiancé before we get married?”

“Stop trying to butter me up, Zweig.”

“I’m not buttering you up, soon-to-be Zweig.”

“Sure,” you eyed him in a playfully suspicious manner. “I’m not sure I believe you though. I think the Patrick of last week who was running around like a chicken with his head cut off to make sure every detail of the wedding was perfect would have an issue with that.”

“Trust me when I say that my belief that this ‘bad luck if you see each other before the wedding’ superstition is bullshit did not change over the course of a week.”

“I’ll remember you said that when our marriage falls apart,” you joked, fully confident that your marriage could withstand anything that was thrown your way.

Patrick grew silent momentarily, his bit of laughter fading away. “You don’t think that that’s gonna happen, right?”

There it was. For a moment, you were reminded of your earlier conversation with Tashi, where she told you about Patrick’s fear of commitment. While you’d heard this sentiment from his inner circle a number of times, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen it so blatantly in front of you. Patrick never seemed to have an issue with you when it came to the progression of your relationship—not hesitating to ask you to move in with him or even to marry him. Still, it was interesting to hear it come from the source himself. Patrick was nervous about what marriage meant for the two of you and your future.

“Of course not,” you leaned against him and took his hand, knowing that physical affection was a nearly foolproof method of helping to quell his nerves. “We’ve been together for so long now that I can’t see how one extravagant event, some pieces of paper, and jewelry are gonna make any difference with us.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” he paused and trailed off, trying to collect the thoughts that he hadn’t been able to put into words. “I never had a good example of love growing up. You’ve seen how my parents are. It’s a miracle that my dad decided not to come to the wedding, ‘cause god knows those two would find a way to make it all about themselves and how much they hate each other. And you’re so… I don’t know. I don’t know if I deserve this. You, I mean.”

You were taken aback at his confession, completely unaware that Patrick ever worried that he wasn’t a good enough partner for you. Suddenly, all the drama of trying to give you the perfect wedding made a little more sense to you.

“Oh Pat,” you laid your head on his shoulder and scooted so close to him that you were practically sitting on his lap. “I feel like I should be the one who’s worried. All night long, people have been telling me that you settled for me and that I’m out of your league. Even your ex-girlfriend told me that.”

“They’re all idiots. You’re the one who settled for me. I don’t know what the hell I did to get someone like you in my life.”

“I guess if we both settled for each other, then we’re even,” you gently poked at him. “I think maybe we should put less stock into what other people think of our relationship. I love you and I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that you love me. I don’t see why it has to be any more complicated than that.”

He wordlessly kissed the top of your head and somehow pulled you even closer to him. Though he didn’t say it, you could feel those three words on the tip of his tongue and radiating from his actions.

The two of you moved on from the topic of your pre-marriage fears rather quickly and spent the rest of the night swapping stories and gossip of your guests. It was refreshing to have a moment where you could both pretend like one of the biggest days of your life wasn’t rapidly approaching.

Eventually, the dark night sky began to fade into a lighter, brighter color, and the sun peeked out from the horizon. You hadn’t realized just how long the two of you’d been talking until the morning light reminded you that it’d been hours since you initially began your conversation. Years into your relationship, and you were still stunned at your ability to never run out of things to say to each other.

You yawned, doing your best to keep the action subtle despite the lack of sleep beginning to catch up with you. You were having such a good time with your partner that you almost didn’t want it to end.

Despite this, when Patrick noticed just how tired you seemed, he insisted that the two of you go back to your respective rooms. Though the task seemed simple, there was one small issue—a few of the staff for your wedding had already arrived in the building. You certainly didn’t want any rumors about your whereabouts, or the fact that you’d broken tradition and apparently doomed your marriage in one fell swoop.

Luckily for you, Patrick spent many summers wandering the halls of the castle, sneaking in and out to spend the night at a club or smoke a blunt with his sisters on one of the many acres of land his family owned.

Your partner took your hand as the two of you snuck through corridors, trying your best to be quiet despite your urge to giggle or step a little too aggressively on an old, creaky piece of wood. At one point, you were nearly caught by a caterer, only narrowly dodging them by pressing yourselves up against the wall and holding your breaths. Once the coast was clear, Patrick stole a quick peck from your lips, then continued to show you his secret way to get back to your bedroom for the night.

At last, you made it back to your bedroom, where Patrick nudged the door open and stepped inside behind you.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Patrick asked out of the blue as he stood by your doorway. He had a slightly distant look in his eyes, as if the reality of your situation was settling in for the first time after a somewhat surreal night.

The first night you met was one of your clearest memories. You swore you could remember every detail of your conversation with your friend before she told you that Patrick was coming, and the drink you ordered to calm your nerves. You remembered exactly what bedsheets were sprawled across Patrick’s mattress, and every subject you covered as you talked to him for hours in his kitchen.

You didn’t know how to put that all into words, so you responded simply. “Of course I do.”

“I remember thinking that you changed my life already, and I’d only known you for a few hours. I think I wanted to propose to you after you stayed up talking to me all night.”

For a moment you thought about the ring box you’d seen hiding in his dresser, well over a year before he proposed to you. You wondered just how long Patrick thought about asking you to marry him before he actually ended up doing it.

“Is that version of yourself jumping with joy that we’re finally getting married?”

He grinned at you. “This version of me is jumping with joy that we’re finally getting married. I love you. Like, a lot. More than I thought was possible.”

Though you knew it was the truth, you didn’t hear those three words from him all that often. Somehow, hearing them made all of your nerves and fears for the day melt away. You didn’t even get a chance to return the words before your fiancé was pulling you in for a gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup your face sweetly. Even as he pulled away, you chased his lips, not wanting the moment to be over.

“Save the sappy stuff for your vows. I don’t want you to be all sapped-out by the time we’re actually getting married. Unless you’re planning on marrying me right now,” you held his hand that had fallen from your face against your chest, right next to your heart. You wondered if he could feel the rhythmic pattern of an organ that only seemed to beat for him.

“I told you already, I’d marry you anywhere,” his voice was only slightly louder than a whisper, as if someone might overhear and interrupt your moment.

You smiled into his eyes that almost looked like they were sparkling in the dim morning light peeking through your windows.

“Goodnight, Patrick. I’ll see you at the wedding,” you forced yourself to bid him farewell, knowing that if you had your way, the two of you wouldn’t leave the room for the rest of the day.

He gave you one last farewell kiss, this one deeper and sweeter than the one that preceded it. Though you were attempting to send him away, you couldn’t help but drape your arms around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer and allowing him to kiss you even deeper.

The shrill sound of your phone alarm rang out from the pocket of your pajama pants, letting you know that you only had a half hour before a makeup artist, maid of honor, and bridesmaids joined you to help you prepare for your big day.

“You really need to go now,” you laughed, pulling away to turn the annoying sound off. “I love you so much.”

He blew kisses at you from the door as he left, clearly feeling just as reluctant as you to leave you alone and prepare for your actual ceremony. You watched him go and shut the door behind him and you softly sighed to yourself–a complicated mixture of relief and fear that you were one step closer to your wedding.

Part of you still couldn’t believe that he would be your husband in just a few hours.

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig smut #challengers fic #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #reader insert #josh o'connor x reader #josh o'connor

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yandere-writer-momo · 1 year

Text

Rent-A-Girlfriend

Part 4: Baki Hanma/ Jack Hanma (2)

Yandere Various Baki x Afab reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

………………………………………

So sorry that I am only doing Jack, Kaoru, Katsumi, and Baki. But you guys are getting, you guessed it! Jun Guevara!

All characters are aged up FYI! They are in their 20s.

……………………………………..

(Your name) laid on her stomach on her bed. A fluffy white towel wrapped around her head while she kicked her feet and giggled. Katsumi was such a cutie. It’s been awhile since she was genuinely interested in a man…

Momo sat up and stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. She needed to start getting around for this date with Jack. She had almost forgotten about the blonde since she’s been so into Katsumi.

But she had graciously accepted Jack’s date before talking to Katsumi… maybe she should tell the karateka about her next three jobs? No… that wouldn’t be right to do. It’s not like they were official or had a title yet. Necessarily she was a single woman on a rental dating site still.

(Your name) got around for the date. She decided to wear a patterned blouse and jeans. Her app said Jack had set up a date at a cafe so there was no need for a dress today.

(Your name) styled her hair and made her way to the train station unaware of the black limousine sitting outside of her apartment complex. A certain yakuza watching her leave in interest.

“Follow her.” Kaoru told Kizaki who sighed. It was a bit unusual for someone of Kaoru’s caliber to be so interested in a woman like this before… perhaps he’s just going through a phase right now?

Kaoru lit a cigar and took a long drag. Kizaki wasn’t able to find much on her at all. Just a name, adress, and a clean record. She had no social media… she had to be hiding something and he was going to figure it out.

“Just who are you, (your name)?” Kaoru muttered to himself.

(Your name) smiled when she saw Jack was patiently waiting for her at the cozy little cafe. Poor guy looked so out of place with his large body crammed at such a small table. From the way he was sitting, he must have been waiting for awhile. Was he excited to see her? How endearing.

Now that she thought of it, how did he find clothes that even fit him? Did he have a personal tailor? She didn’t think it was humanly possible for someone to be as massive as him.

(Your name) shook her head. She wasn’t going to question the logic of Jack’s existence. She was here to get paid and then go home.

(Your name) opened the door and smiled at Jack. The blonde perking up a bit when she walked in just like a German shepherd… that was a little mean to think that. She shouldn’t compare the man to a big ‘scary’ dog.

“Hello, darling.” (Your name) approached him and pressed her lips to his cheek. The blonde blushing at the touch. “Were you waiting long?”

“No…” (Your name) tried not to giggle at how awkward Jack was. It was endearing that a man as large as him had no experience with women. A shame as well. Man was probably well endowed- dirty thought! Shake your head clear of those dirty thoughts, (your name).

Jack noticed her blush and felt his heart flutter. Perhaps she had an inkling of his attraction to her? Or that he was still a virgin… He wasn’t too obvious… was he?

(Your name) sat in front of Jack. Her (eye color) eyes scanning the menu in interest. She didn’t think he would pick such a tasteful cafe with paninis. Jack didn’t look like the kind of guy who would eat a panini.

“Have you been here before?” Momo asks him with a smile.

“… no.” Jack admitted. Should he admit he googled popular date ideas? Would she think less of him?

“I think you picked a good spot. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a panini.” (Your name) smiled at him. He googled this spot just to take her out on a date… that is so cute. “You’re surprisingly thoughtful.”

Jack hummed. He was only able to rent her for a few hours today so he was going to make the most of it. He wished he could spend more time with her… wait. What was he thinking? They just met.

“I’m trying.” Jack mutters softly. “I don’t have much experience with dating…”

(Your name) took two of his thick fingers in her hand and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s what I’m here for…” She gave him a bright smile, causing his knees to go weak and his palms to sweat. Jack averted his gaze, his heart drumming rapidly in his chest. “You’re doing well so far.”

Jack wasn’t used to praise… but he liked it. Jack enjoyed being praised like this. It made him feel special.

The two shared light banter and conversation. (Your name) was happy that the blonde was opening up to her more and more. He looked more approachable when he relaxed. Not to mention how hilarious it was to watch him try to eat a piping hot panini in one bite. Jack was surprisingly fun to spend time with… but perhaps it was because she thought of him to be similar to a dog?

The way he had his utmost attention on her and anything she did was interesting to her. She hasn’t had a man look at her like she was a god in a long time…

Sadly, she only had five minutes left with him…

“Our time is almost up…” (your name) softly whispered, Jack furrowing his brow. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed.

(Your name) tried not to chuckle at how disappointed he looked. It was nice to see him expressing his emotions a bit better. It made the monstrous man more human in her eyes.

Jack stood up and helped her out of her chair. The two walking side by side out of the cafe together. His entire hand engulfed hers, the calloused skin from tears of fighting felt rough against the soft skin of her hands.

“I had a great time today, Jack.” (Your name) smiled warmly at the giant man. She was being genuine. Jack was comfortable to be around, she felt incredibly safe with him.

Jack stopped walking, his body bending down with a snap. (Your name)’s eyes wide in shock when she felt slightly chapped lips briefly touch her cheek. It was quick and fleeting, like a butterfly landing on a flower. But it wasn’t opposed.

“I wanted to do that all day…” Jack muttered under his breath. The blonde turning his head to try to hide his red cheeks. That was so cute… how could he be cute?

(Your name) touched the spot his lips touched before smiling at him. “Well… I enjoyed it. Didn’t think you’d be the sweet type.”

(Your name) takes his massive hand up to her lips and presses a soft kiss to his scarred knuckles. Jack shivered in response, his breathing rapid. He felt like he was going to fall over and die from how fast his heart beat in his chest.

“Thank you for today, Jack. Have a good rest of your day today, Jack.” (Your name) waved good bye to Jack. The blonde biting his lip before speaking again.

“I want to try to see you again soon…” Jack said, the giant man shoving his hands in his pockets to try to stop himself from saying anything embarrassing. “Have a good day, (your name).”

Jack then turned on his heel to walk off but not before noticing a black limo across the street. Jack narrowing his brown eyes before shaking his head.

There was no way someone would be following (your name) around, right? She couldn’t possibly have gotten herself tangled in anything dangerous…

Jack narrowed his gaze when he saw a flash of Hanayama’s face from the limousine’s window when it drove past him. Just what was that yakuza up to now?

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝟓 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐲!

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧!

(Your name) smiled at the pastel pink screen on her phone. Her ratings have been going up as of late so she’s been getting more date requests. Business was booming, baby.

(Your name) then exited the screen to see if she had any missed messages and oh boy there were at least fifteen missed messages from Katsumi. She was barely with Jack for three hours and she missed this many messages? That was insane.

Oh. That made sense. She forgot to tell Katsumi she was on a job.

She quickly shot Katsumi a message and apologized for not getting back to him. Poor guy.

She was amazed at the instant reply.

‘That’s okay! Sorry, I just became a little anxious there. I just get so nervous around pretty girls like you is all. :)’

What a goober. Katsumi was lucky he was so cute because she didn’t particularly like clingy men.

‘I should have told you. That’s on me, haha.’

(Your name) smiled. Katsumi seemed like such a sweet guy… it really made her wonder why he was on the market… oh well. He wouldn’t be for long if things continued to work out between them.

The young woman made her way into the bathroom. Her phone buzzing with a new text message notification.

‘You can never do anything wrong in my eyes. Can we call each other in a bit? I miss your voice.’

The roots were starting to form from this seed, poor girl had no idea what she just planted into her life.

Monday rolled around faster than she thought. She was interested in this Baki character. She wondered how he’d be… she went with her another softer look. Most of the men she wants on dates with seemed to like soft, demure girls and she would pretend to be anyone for some extra pocket cash.

She made her way towards the park, a young man with shoulder length red hair standing out like a sore thumb. He was pretty… surprisingly pretty. Almost like a girl.

The closer she was, the slightly more masculine he became. Baki wasn’t particularly tall but he did have a nice build to him.

Baki was currently lost in his own thoughts. The young man leaning back to sigh. Ever since his breakup with Kozue, he’s been a bit empty. It’s been rough getting back out on the dating field as of late.

Turns out a lot of people don’t want to date an underground fighter of his prestige. His life was too dangerous for love or civilian friends. It was upsetting to him to say the least. He tried dating in his age range but he decided to just hire a girlfriend for the day to test out an older woman.

Baki was hardly given a chance before he’d be ghosted. It’s been the same pattern for the last two years. One or two dates and then silence. It was stressful to him.

(Your name) smiled warmly once Baki turned his head to look at her. His brown eyes wide in shock at the young woman who stood before him. He didn’t think she’d be so pretty…

“Hello. Baki, right?” Oh lord… the way his name rolled off her tongue had him feeling like a teenager again.

“Yes. My name is Baki.” Baki held his hand out to her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

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