#WHEN THE PEOPLE START RUNNING AROUND WITH THE CLOCKS
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cherrygirlfriend · 2 days ago
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do your job right pairing: assistant!reader x ceo!rafe synopsis: assistant!reader forgets to mail important documents; the diligent mr. cameron makes sure it doesn't happen again. warnings: smut, spanking, degradation, praise MDNI - wc: 1.1k this is the first day of my birthday-week fics! honestly i had a blast working on all of these and i hope people enjoy them. ᯓᡣ𐭩
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rafe had always been a hardworking man, especially when it came to his business, and he couldn't stand it when his employees didn't do their jobs right. people say that you can either choose to be feared, or respected, and rafe cameron was the kind of man who'd rather be feared.
so, the fact that he refused to fire the ditzy, airheaded girl who'd been hired as his assistant was nothing short of a miracle in the eyes of his other employees. what they didn't know, they couldn't ruin.
you were shaking as you walked towards his office, wobbly on your kitten heels, the tone that rafe used with you still fresh in your mind.
"come into my fucking office. right now." he had barked into your phone, before shutting the call. you chewed on your lower lip, not knowing what you had done this time for him to be cross with you. still, you lifted your hand, softly knocking on the door with the golden nameplate reading 'r. cameron'.
"come in."
you took a deep breath before pulling the door open, revealing your boss leaning against his desk, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows, crossed in front of his chest, a harsh look on his face, his eyes as cold as ice.
"lock the door."
hesitantly, you did as you were told, chewing on your lower lip, looking at him through your eyelashes. "w-what did i do this time?" you asked with a shaky voice.
rafe let out a small chuckle, entirely devoid of any positive emotion before clearing his throat, picking up a small stack of papers off his desk, and when you realized what they were, you felt all the blood drain from your face. "look familiar, hm?"
"mr. cameron, i'm sorry, i swear i was going to-"
"but you didn't." rafe interrupted you, tutting as he shook his head, one of his hands going to scratch his chin in thought, "you know, i'm starting to think you keep doing this on purpose. that you like it when i get mad at you, when i punish you. 'cause i don't know how someone could be so... dumb to keep making these mistakes."
"i'm sorry, i'll send it over right now, please-"
"no. that's not how this works." he pushed himself away from his desk, slowly striding over to you. looking at you up and down, rafe lifted your head up from your chin, making you look up at him. "you know the drill. desk. bend over."
"mr. cam-"
"now."
the air of finality in his voice caused a shiver to run down your spine as your wobbly legs took you to his desk, and you hesitantly bent yourself over his desk, the desk cold against your arms.
"you know what to do." rafe said, his hand resting over your ass that felt bare under his touch even with the fabric of your pencil skirt that was separating your skin from his, a rush of heat in your lower stomach. "count for me."
slowly, he pushed up the fabric of your skirt, revealing your bare ass, rafe letting out a small chuckle, "i see you decided not to wear panties, like i've asked. looks like my dumb little secretary can actually listen. you know what they say about broken clocks."
he grabbed at the flesh of your ass, massaging it slightly as he tutted, "five. you ready?"
"y-yes..." you mumbled weakly, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down on you're lower lip, preparing yourself for the impact.
a loud smacking sound echoed around his office before you could even register the sting on your ass, a small squeal unwillingly escaping your lips as your body was jolted forward by the impact.
"o-one." you counted, rafe's palm massaging at the buttock he had just slapped, before slowly pulling it away.
"you know, if you weren't such a dumb, forgetful slut, i wouldn't have to be doing this."
before you could even process what he had said, his rafe's palm landed another slap on your ass, your body jolting forward once again. this time, he didn't even take the time to massage your buttock before he pulled his hand away, delivering another slap to your ass almost immediately, one that made you let out a noise that was something between a moan and a squeal even though you were biting down on your lower lip so harshly you could taste blood.
"count."
you took in a deep breath as he massaged your ass, trying to stabilize yourself, your breathing erratic, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. "t-two, and, uh... three."
"i'm surprised," rafe cooed mockingly, "that a dumb little thing like you can even do simple maths."
rafe pulled his hand away, and you intertwined your own fingers together as a way to calm yourself down, your eyes stinging with tears threatening to fall, and once you felt his palm hitting your ass once again, a tear rolled down your cheek, your entire face feeling warm as you managed to pitifully let out the word "four." and although you were hurting, you also couldn't deny the arousal starting to gather between your legs.
"i mean, you'd think that you'd understand how important my work is. you could lose me thousands for forgetting to mail those papers." he tutted, pulling his hand away, "so, what are you gonna do from now on?"
"i-i'm gonna remember it, mr. cameron, i promise."
"that's my girl." rafe said, and once again, you felt his palm connect with your ass, a small yelp leaving your lips.
"five..." you babbled almost incoherently, a panting mess, certain that by now your asscheeks were red in the shape of rafe's large hands, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you realized that your punishment was over, a small hiss escaping your lips when the pained skin of your ass was met with the biting air of rafe's office.
"you did so well..." rafe said quietly, softly massaging your asscheeks before slowly sliding your skirt back down, smoothing it out. he helped you stand up, his bulge obvious in his trousers as he turned you around to face him, cupping your chin to once again lift your head up to look at him, "go home for the rest of the day, okay? take a warm bath and rest, hm?"
you nodded your head, looking up at him with your vision blurred by tears, rafe wiping the blood off your lower lip, "you did really well. i'm proud of you." he said, bringing his lips down to meet yours in a gentle kiss, his hand cupping your cheek so affectionately it was hard for you to tell if the man holding onto you was really the same man that had just punished you.
when he pulled away, rafe looked down at you with a sweet smile, "i'll come by later, alright?"
"alright." you nodded with a similar smile, leaning into his touch. when rafe pulled away from you, you smoothed down your skirt, slowly making your way to his office door.
maybe he knew, or maybe he didn't, but you'd never tell him that your little accident was anything but that. that they never were accidents.
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sevazh · 4 months ago
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OH MY GOD ME TOO..... i DESPISED the new chibi style of gacha life which is why i just kept using gacha studio even though everyone had forgotten about it im surprised someone else even remembers gacha studio considering how it like disappeared from the internet after gacha life came out.
at least ONE cinderella recreation?? that boys made at least TEN. hikaru when he stumbles upon kaoru's hidden gacha life folder in their shared computer watches one and then watches the next cinderella one only to confusedly note that it was mostly the same like still just cinderella. he looks at the next and skims through it and its..... still mostly the same?? with like no plot differences?? he then incredulously looks at 3 more of the cinderella and its all JUST CINDERELLA. like no plot differences this boy just RECREATES cinderella over and over with him and kyoya. hikaru is genuinely confused on how he can make like 500 different AUs of himself in the weirdest fucking situations and yet for cinderella he just keeps doing the same story over and over. its cathartic for him ig.
the thought of them LOSING ACTUAL STORAGE on their pc because of kaorus gacha animatics is making me giggle help 😭 like actual GIGABYTES of storage being occupied because of the sheer amount of this unhinged 15 year old's gacha fantasies......... also kaoru gaslighting him over it is so real. hikaru is still thoroughly offended that out of the fucking WAREHOUSE of gacha videos he stumbled upon that fateful day, he was a background character in like majority of the videos. what angst potential does kyoya senpai have that he doesnt
in honor of gacha studio i downloaded it again and tried my hand at kaoru and kyoya (angel and devil forbidden love style)
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my older sibling discovering me hunched over on my phone on creating gacha characters (that sounds familiar..) was very humbling and the app was promptly deleted as soon as i finished
i can imagine hikaru being sent into some sort of crisis upon finding the hours upon hours of videos. he discovers a folder full of videos while going through their pc in the early afternoon and binges them into the next morning. why are there so many? why are they so intricate? why is KYOYA a more important character than him? how did he make so many of these WITHOUT HIM EVER NOTICING? WHY IS THERE SO MUCH CINDERELLA?
however, hikaru lacks the ability to think and consider something seriously for any extended amount of time and eventually just brushes it off and starts laughing hysterically over it
later when kaoru comes back, hikaru tells kaoru what he found.
kaoru is as white as a sheet. he sputters.
“so, you know about my feelings for kyoya senpai then?
dead silence.
“YOU LIKE KYOYA SENPAI??”
poor stupid hikaru. bless his heart.
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rosaacicularis · 10 months ago
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thinking about writing a third act break up/make up scarian fic rn…… like where they both realise that they miss and love each other at the same time and their respective best friends have to tell the other “he just left to go find you” and when they finally meet back up it’s a passionate kiss and a breathless apology and confession and maybe it’s raining and maybe they don’t care and maybe they’re getting soaked but they’re laughing and they’re together……
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sinner-as-saint · 2 months ago
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scary? my god, you're divine
Hitman/Mob!Bucky x Reader 
Run-through: Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right? 
Themes: arranged marriage, age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, bucky’s in his late thirties), mentions of violence and death, hitman!Bucky, smut, fluff, explicit language, virgin!reader, HEA
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Something woke you up in the middle of the night. 
And you’d been staring at the dark ceiling above your bed for the past few minutes now. What had woken you up? It could’ve been the strong winds hitting the large Georgian windows. Or perhaps it was the soft ticking of the nearby clock. Or maybe even the weight of all the incessant thoughts running through your head. 
Gods, you thought, what a day. 
It had started out like any other. Your father was pacing around, worried and barking orders on the phone, trying to find a way to put a stop to this chaos that was quickly forming into a full war between him and his number one rival. Small attacks had turned to frequent drive-bys, threats had turned into taking turns and blowing up each other’s warehouses and clubs. And it would only get worse and worse. 
But this morning, as he watched you come downstairs and into the dining room for breakfast, something in his eyes was different. And you could tell what was coming. You had been thinking about this for days. So when he sat you down and discussed how you could do your part in helping to put an end to all of this. 
“It’s only a matter of time before he sends his son, his favourite weapon after us all,” Your father sounded defeated. “And none of us would survive him. No one ever does. You know that.” 
You nodded, understanding what he meant. “I know.” 
The son of your father’s rival, Bucky Barnes, was a name which could make even powerful men like your father tremble in fear. He was like a ghost. No one ever saw him. No one knew what he looked like. Those who had seen him claimed that he always wore a muzzle-like mask to conceal his identity. He was known for being his father’s most prized weapon. They say he never misses, that his aim is and has always been as sure as Eros’ arrows. He was like an evil Cupid. 
“The marriage would only be on paper of course, you don’t have to live with him.” Your father explained, seeming desolated, “But you being married to him would make us family, and…” He trailed off, sighing. 
But you knew what he meant. Family meant everything in this society. If your family and the rival’s were joined to each other by marriage, all attacks would cease. Because keeping family safe was everyone’s number one priority, even in this line of work. 
So this was all up to you now. Your family’s safety, the safety of people who worked with and for your father, all the allies, and friends, and acquaintances. It was a heavy weight to carry. 
“I’ll do it.” 
Things happened so quickly after that. Phone calls were had, arrangements and deals were made, and by the afternoon, a sheet of paper was brought to you. That’s it. No groom, no fancy shit. Just a piece of paper on which Bucky Barnes had already signed. And with your signature added next to his, you two were now forever husband and wife by law. 
It was weird, being married to a man you had never seen before. He was just a name. Granted, a name with immense magnitude in the society, but still just a name. No face to go with it. 
By the evening, your things were packed. It was an order by your new husband. He wanted his new bride in his home, and things were so freshly mended that neither you nor your father wanted to argue. So Bucky sent cars and a bunch of his soldiers to escort you to his house. It was not unexpected that he was so absent from all this. Bucky Barnes had a reputation of living in the shadows. He was so rarely seen.
Bucky’s house was not too far from your family home. In fact, the closer you got to your new home, the more you realised that despite everything, you did not mind this as much as you thought you would. 
Your husband’s home was this stunning piece of architecture. A lavish Georgian-style mansion. Beige stone, carved details and mouldings around the many windows and main entrance. Dark shingles on the roof, well-manicured lawn, a long driveway giving it a sense of both elegance and exclusivity. The mansion sat on a beautiful, seemingly endless estate. Lush and green. It was a testament to the wealth and the power of its owner. 
You were politely led inside the home by one of the many staff members who took care of the house. And the interior was just as breathtaking. Luxurious, with the right amount of vintage accents. 
“We did what we could with the limited time we had to prepare a room for you.” The kind lady had said to you. She also mentioned that this room would be entirely yours. Bucky apparently had his own on the other side of the mansion. 
You murmured that it was alright, and when she finally showed you to the room they had ready for you, you were pleasantly impressed. The layout, the colour theme, the decor, all of it was to your liking. You even had a personal little balcony which looked over the endless green backyard. 
That night you dined alone, which was not a surprise. Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a busy man, and he was apparently above trivial things like dining with his new wife. But the silence was welcomed. After dinner you found yourself back in your bedroom, and soon in bed with a book. 
Well, maybe this was your new life now. Grand mansion with an impressive library. Solo dinners and kind staff members. A giant, dreamy bedroom all for you. Dare you say, it wasn’t too bad. 
But here you were now, unable to fall back asleep after some mysterious thing woke you up. You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You couldn’t even blame your new surroundings for your inability to sleep. Everything here was so quiet, and comfortable. Even this new bed felt like laying on the fluffiest cloud. Perhaps you could read some more–
You froze when you heard it. 
Someone breathing. Someone else’s breaths. A soft exhale, but it was enough to make your heart race in panic. It was the middle of the night. And there was someone in this dark room with you. 
Slowly, you tried to reach for the lamp on your bedside table to turn it on, but then you heard a voice say, “Don’t.” 
A smooth, relaxed, male voice. Sounding like it came from one corner of the room. It could only be one man, couldn’t it? 
“Bucky?” You questioned, for some reasons pulling the covers up to your chin as if he was not a man but a ghost. 
A pause, then he said, like he was gently teasing you, “Hello, wife. Can’t sleep?” 
You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness better. You strained your eyes until you could see the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. He was sitting in one of the sofas near the unlit fireplace, quiet, still like a marble statue. 
There was almost no light coming into the room. The thick curtains allowed very little moonlight in, and it was hard to see. But you couldn’t ignore that large silhouette now that you’d noticed him. Something near him was shiny, almost metal like, you couldn’t tell what it was. 
“Do you always lurk around in the shadows like a ghost?” You asked, wondering where the hell you found the confidence to talk to one of the finest hitmen like this. It’s not like he would shoot you if he didn’t like you. A small voice said. Would he? 
A chuckle. Deep, and careless. A boyish sound. 
“It’s my house,” He responded in that same gentle but teasing tone, “I lurk wherever I please.” 
Well, he did have a point there. 
“Well then,” You said in a casual tone, “If you’re done lurking and spying on me, I’d like to go back to bed.” 
A soft scoff. Then he said, “I’ve watched you toss and turn for the past half an hour. I’d say you’re having trouble turning your brain off.” 
Half an hour?! 
“Wouldn’t you?” You retorted, keeping your voice calm and steady. “If you were forced to marry someone who’s so mysterious that no one’s ever seen them before, wouldn’t you have some trouble turning your brain off?” 
“Ah.” He got up, and you could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching the bed, “No one forced you to marry me. A suggestion was made and you agreed to it.” 
You replied quickly, “The alternative was watching everyone I love and myself be murdered by you, so semantics.” 
Another chuckle as he stopped at the edge of the bed, so close to you. You refused to move. You tilted your head up but could still only see his silhouette. He spoke in that teasing tone again, “They said you were smart, and beautiful. Guess they forgot to mention you were bratty too.” 
You frowned. “What?” 
Silence. Then he began moving away from your bed and towards the door. “Good night, wife.” 
“Good night,” You muttered, slightly annoyed and confused, “Ghost.” 
You heard his soft chuckle right as he shut the door behind him and left you all alone again in the dark. You didn’t dare turn the lamp on even after he left. 
— 
“Is Bucky ever home?” 
You asked one of the staff members at breakfast the next morning. The lady smiled at you and answered, “He keeps to himself. We rarely ever know if he’s home or not. He works at odd hours, you see? Besides, our job is to take care of the house. We clean, we make the meals and leave them in the fridge, we get our paychecks each month. Everyone is happy. We don’t pry.” 
You nodded, sipping on some tea. “So… are you one of the people who don’t know what he looks like?” 
“Oh no. I saw him recently.” She said, smiling. 
“How recent?” You asked. 
“A couple of months ago. He’s a busy man, he’s rarely ever home.” 
Unbelievable. 
“Doesn’t it feel like you’re employed by a ghost?” 
She smiled again, refilled your cup and said, “Oh, we’re used to Mr. Barnes. Sure, sometimes it feels like the house is way too empty. But look, now you’re here! We get to take proper care of someone for once.” 
She was so cheery and kind that you couldn’t help but smile at her words. How on earth did a man that grim manage to have the best staff members in the whole world? 
— 
The following night, Bucky came to see you again. 
You woke up upon hearing the door of your bedroom opening. You sat up again, leaning against the headboard. You didn’t reach for the lamp on your bedside table this time. Instead you said, “Lurking again, I see.” 
“Oh yes,” He answered, taking a seat on the same sofa by the dark fireplace. “How was your day, wife?” He asked, as if this was the most normal way to have a conversation. 
“Good.” You said, “I spoke with your staff members. They say they barely ever see you at home.” 
He sighed, “I barely ever am at home.” 
You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it. He was too… intangible. Faceless. There was nothing you knew about him aside from his profession. And not knowing was starting to annoy you. 
“Why can’t I see you?” You asked. “I mean it’s not fair. I married you. I’ll eventually see you someday.” 
He was silent for a moment. Then asked, “Will you?” 
“Well, yes.” 
“What for?” There was that teasing tone again. So subtle. But it was there. 
Your face burned. “Well… we’re married.” You stated the obvious. “And it won’t be long till our families start asking for, you know, grandbabies.” 
“Babies can be made in the dark.” His smooth voice felt like a gentle caress. Like the finest, cool silk sliding over your warm body… 
Oh no. You can’t like his voice. Not yet. 
“That’s not what I–,” You sighed, “Why are you so against showing your face? Are you ugly?” 
He chuckled then. Loudly, if you could see him you’d surely see his shoulders shaking. “You think too much, wife.” He got up again, ready to leave. “Good night.” 
You sighed, defeated, and listened to the sounds of him leaving the room. Then almost angrily whispered, “Good night, husband.” 
“It’s because he’s ugly, isn’t it?” You asked two of the staff members one morning while they set the table for your breakfast. “That’s why he doesn’t show his face?” 
The two ladies chuckled to themselves, and one of them said, “No he isn’t.” She sounded confident too. 
“Have you seen his face? Like properly?” 
They both nodded. 
“And? You don’t find it weird that he doesn’t show his face?” You questioned. “He refuses to let me see him. He only comes to talk to me in the dark. Like some messed up Eros.” You whispered the last part to yourself. 
One of the ladies said, gently, “Give him time. He’s not… terrible.” 
— 
“Your staff speaks highly of you.” You said to him when he came to see you that night. Again, sat in that corner like a ghost whose only purpose was to haunt your bedroom specifically. 
“Do they?” 
“Yes,” You made yourself comfortable, leaning against the headboard like you had the habit of doing. “Do you pay them to sing your praises?” 
He chuckled. “Is it that hard to believe that I’m not some sort of monster?” 
You sighed. “If not then why can’t I see you?” 
“Not yet.” He said. 
“Why?” 
“Because I said so.” He replied, and by the sounds of it, he stood up. Surely ready to leave. “Now, is there anything you need?” 
You tried to see if you could tell where he was standing but the room was too dark. However, it seemed like, judging by the sound of footsteps, that he’d gotten closer to the end of your bed. “There’s nothing to do around the house. The ladies take care of everything. I appreciate the library, but…” 
He was quiet, like he was thinking. Then said, “I’ll see to it.” 
“I’m assuming you won’t let me go back to work in my family’s companies.” You could tell he wouldn’t. 
“No,” He said, as expected. “You’re my wife now. I’m well equipped to provide for you and see to your needs for the rest of our lives. But if you have any hobbies, please, indulge away.” 
Something about his calm tone made you confess your little secret, “I like to paint. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.” 
You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Perhaps the dark helped you open up better. Maybe the fact that you didn’t know him made it easier to talk. Like how people tend to prefer texting over calls. Him being so invisible made it so much more effortless. 
You continued, “I always wonder what it must be like to have an exhibition of my works.” You chuckled. “I know it sounds vain but… I’ve always wanted to let my mind and soul leak all over canvases, and share it with the world. I think it’s such a brave thing when people do that.” 
He was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke in that teasing tone, “Painting, huh?” 
You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get to make fun of me, ghost.” 
He chuckled. “Get some sleep, wife.” 
And then he left. 
— 
The following morning, you woke up to two surprises. 
The first one was waiting for you at the breakfast table. You noticed the box on the floor immediately. It was partially opened, and had a note stuck to it. 
The note read: ‘Since there’s nothing to do around the house…’ written in a messy handwriting. Surely Bucky’s. 
You opened the box and in there, on a folded blanket, was a sleeping, fluffy little puppy. A black lab it seemed. With a pink collar around her neck. You gasped as you gently picked it up and couldn’t resist bringing it up to your face. Puppies always smelt so good. 
The little one yawned and let out some cute noises as you held her up to look at her properly. By now the two ladies whom you saw frequently around the house walked up to you and one of them said, “He left something else for you.” 
You followed the ladies, new puppy in hand, and they led you to what seemed like a newly built studio. It was in an area of the mansion where you didn’t go very often. And as you walked in, you gasped in surprise for the second time that morning. 
It was located on the ground floor. A bright and spacious space. The beige walls felt like a giant blank canvas in itself. The large Georgian windows allowed the perfect amount of light in. And everything in the room was neatly organised. Art supplies, paints, canvases, palettes, easels. 
Oh, it was perfect. 
The ladies left you to explore on your own, saying something about bringing you breakfast in here. But you were distracted by the bright yellow sticky note on one of the easels. You walked up to it and it read: ‘For your mind and soul to leak all over. Paint me something. I’ll consider it a wedding gift.’ 
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read and re-read the note left by your mysterious husband. You whispered to your sleeping puppy, “Maybe our ghost isn’t so bad, huh?” 
-
Hours went by. 
The ladies brought you and the puppy your meals, a bed for the pup, snacks for you, all while you were busy letting your creativity flow as much as possible. 
The first few canvases were horrible according to you. You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in so long so it felt like day one all over again. But gradually, over the next few canvases, you could see what your brain was trying to create. 
The blank canvas soon turned into flowy shapes. Curves, facial features, hands. Entwining bodies. Two of them. And the colour purple, lots of it. It didn’t make too much sense at first, but the more you worked on it the more you realised what you were painting. 
It was your version of ‘The Abduction of Psyche’. How fitting. 
By the time you were done and happy with it, your back was aching from sitting on that stool all day. It was almost time for dinner. The sun had set. The puppy was awake so you held her up to show her the canvas and asked, “You think our ghost will like it?” 
She let out the tiniest, softest howl. 
“Yeah, I think so too.” 
You left to shower and have dinner. Then once it was time for bed you asked one of the staff members, “Does Bucky have some kind of an office?” 
She replied saying yes he does, and that she could show you where it was. You grabbed the not yet dry canvas and carefully carried it all the way to where Bucky’s office was. The lady again left you all by yourself to explore. 
At first you didn’t want to spend too much time in there. It was Bucky’s space after all. But then you thought, if he was comfortable walking into your bedroom at odd times during the night, why shouldn’t you check out his office? 
So you did. You left the canvas where it could dry without any problem and where Bucky would see it upon entering the room. Then you began exploring. The room was not what you were expecting for someone like Bucky. You thought it would be less… old school. 
He had a vintage looking typewriter on his desk for gods’ sake. Not one he used of course, but it added layers to his character you thought. Dark wooden furniture, comfortable looking chairs, more bookshelves filled with cloth-bound books. It was… cosy. 
So cosy in fact that you grabbed a book and made yourself comfortable on one of the chairs. You’d read for an hour or so then head off to bed, you thought. 
But soon, you drifted off to sleep. Right there. In Bucky’s office. 
-
You woke up and felt something soft and fluffy moving around on your lap. You opened your eyes and quickly realised you weren’t in bed. The room was dark. With very little light coming in from the outside. There were no curtains in this room, but also it was situated in an area of the mansion where very little moonlight came in.
Before you could panic though, a voice spoke up from not too far away, “You’ve been busy today, I see.” 
Ah, Bucky. And fuck. You’d fallen asleep in his office. 
You refused to feel embarrassed. So you asked, “Did you like your wedding gift?” 
“Yes.” He replied, and gauging by the sound you could tell he was sitting at his desk, in the darkest corner of the room. “I’ll hang it in my office.” 
You smiled in the dark, feeling a little proud of yourself. “And where’s my wedding gift?” 
“In your lap.” 
Fair. 
“What should we name her?” You asked, reaching to caress your puppy who let out an adorable grunt. “Hedone? Donnie, for short?” 
He let out a chuckle. “You are really leaning into this whole Eros-Psyche thing, huh?” 
You shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just show me your face. But you keep choosing not to, so deal with it.” 
A pause. Then he asked, “You like your new studio?” 
That made you sit up straighter. “I love it. Thank you.” Then you added, “My family always thought painting was a waste of time. They said it kept my head in the clouds too much. That it was… pointless.” 
He was quick to say, “It’s not. Besides, your hobbies don’t have to make sense to anyone else but yourself. And I’ve seen the other canvases you left in the studio. They’re good.” 
You turned to face the dark corner he was in. “You think?” 
“Yes,” He said. “We can hold an exhibition if you want. Let me know when you’re ready.” 
You let out a surprised chuckle. And when he didn’t laugh you realised he was serious. “Bucky, it's not so easy.” You explained calmly. “There’s so much work that goes into it, there needs to be some cohesion to the art pieces. There’s marketing, there’s research, there’s…” You exhaled, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Art exhibitions aren’t as easy or quick as you think it is.” 
He replied, “Leave all that to me. Just let me know when you want to hold one.” 
Just like that? 
“I… okay.” 
You felt warm in a way you’d never felt before. No one had ever taken your interests so seriously before. You’d never even been able to discuss this freely about your hobbies. And here Bucky was, ready to listen and interact with it. 
You got up to leave because this was… a lot to process. “Well then. Good night, Bucky.” 
A soft scoff. “Think I liked it more when you called me a ghost.” 
You smiled as you approached the door, puppy in hand and amazed at how well you were able to navigate in the dark. “Night, ghost.” 
He gave you a satisfied hum, then, “Good night, wife.” 
— 
It was bizarre to admit but you’d gotten used to those conversations in the dark with your husband. Days went by quickly given how engrossed you were with painting. Especially with the thought of a potential exhibition now in the back of your mind. Gods, that would be a dream. 
And while your days consisted of painting, playing and training your puppy, exploring more and more of the grounds and your new home, making quick trips to the stores to get more supplies, catching up with your friends who were still trying to grasp the fact that you got married so quickly, getting to know the household staff and the guards better, your night consisted of waiting and fighting your sleep until Bucky came to talk to you. 
It was always short conversations. Filled with easy banter and teasing tones, sarcastic comments and you asking each and every night if he was in the mood to show his face. Bucky always said no. And you always sent him off with a ‘good night, ghost’. 
You had gotten used to your ghost. As had your puppy. She would bark happily each time Bucky would enter your bedroom door at night. She’d run to him for playtime and cuddles as he sat in his dark corner and spoke with you until you fell asleep. 
Bucky would often leave you some kind of a note, for you to read in the morning. At the breakfast table, or in your studio. Sometimes he would leave compliments and comments on your dry canvases. Eventually, you stopped fighting the smiles which formed on your face as you read his notes. 
But all of it only made you want to see him more. Not that it would change anything. Bucky had quickly become… a friend, you’d say. A confidant if you will. He had become a habit. Part of your routine. 
And then one night, he didn’t come to see you. 
You waited. He usually came around midnight. It was well past 2 a.m. and he never came. 
At some point you went downstairs, pretending as if you just needed some water. One of the guards caught you trying to peek out into the driveway from the kitchen window. 
“Boss is not home yet, ma’am.” He said. 
You acted like you didn’t care. But still asked, “He does this often?” 
“Sometimes.” 
You nodded. You took your drink and with your puppy in your arms you walked back upstairs, passing by the many guards who were on duty inside the house at nighttime. 
“It’s alright, he’s probably just busy.” You whispered to the sleeping pup as you made your way up. “Or maybe he’s hurt and tending to his wounds somewhere else.” You felt a gentle pinch in your chest at the thought of Bucky hurt and alone out there. So you forced yourself to think of something else. Something way worse. “Or maybe he’s with someone else.” You scoffed, nuzzling the soft fur of your pup, “This marriage means nothing to him anyway. But that’s alright, we don’t need him. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other. Don’t we?” 
Safe to say, you went to bed slightly annoyed that night. And in denial too because you refused to admit that you missed him. 
– 
There was a note waiting for you in your studio the next morning. 
It read: ‘No I did not spend the night with someone else. I’ll explain later. See you tonight, wife.’ 
Huh. Looks like the guards have really good ears. 
Well, whatever. It’s not like you were impatiently waiting for night to come just so you could talk to your ghost of a husband. Right? 
Except you were though. So much that you couldn’t paint a decent thing. You were easily giving up on each canvas, and leaving a trail of unfinished work the more time went on. 
Eventually you sighed and left the studio. You tried reading but that wasn’t happening either. So you did the only thing you knew would take your mind off things. You asked the ladies to show you where everything was kept in the kitchen and you got to baking. 
Which you did until it was time for bed. Your mood was off, and it was all because of a faceless man. And that somehow annoyed you even more. 
You grabbed a plate of the mini muffins you’d made earlier and made your way upstairs. Your puppy had just gotten used to the stairs so she happily followed you everywhere you went now. 
You proceeded to sit in bed, and eat your muffins angrily and forced yourself to try to sleep. 
-
You woke up sometime later. And you just knew who was in the room with you. 
Except he wasn’t in his usual spot. 
He was standing by the windows which faced your bed this time, with his back to you. The curtains were pulled, the moonlight came and there was his dark silhouette. And… you frowned as you noticed the shiny metal arm. 
“You’re home.” You said. 
Bucky turned his head to the side, “I am.” He said. 
You took a second or two to admire the side profile. With the moonlight shining all around his silhouette he looked like a fallen angel of sorts. “You didn’t come home last night.” 
“I was out working,” He said. 
“Maiming and killing?” 
“You know me so well.” 
“Is that a… metal arm?” You questioned. 
“It is.”  
“Were you hurt?” 
“I was.” 
You sighed again. “Is it always going to be bland answers and mystery with you?” 
“Get used to it.” He said in that teasing tone. 
You got out of bed as quietly as you could. “I think I liked you better without the attitude, when you sat in the corner like a ghost.” You took some steps away from the bed, approaching the giant windows. The room was rather spacious so it would take some more steps to get close to him. If you’d only– 
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” He warned, but remained in the same spot. 
You groaned. “Don’t you think this is getting tiring? I mean, I’m married to a man I’ve never seen before. In fact, no one has ever seen you. Why? What are you hiding?” You added, sounding defeated.  
Bucky lowered his head, which only accentuated how broad his shoulders really were. He sighed. “Do you know how much trouble could’ve been avoided if only Psyche trusted Eros?” 
You rolled your eyes. “I think she had her reasons. A mysterious, faceless lover who only shows up in the dark and hides in the shadows is bound to raise some doubts. Don’t you think so?” 
He chuckled. You blinked and he’d turned around to face you. But despite that, you couldn’t see his face at all. Even though he was inches away. 
He was quiet. Observing you with interest. The moonlight allowed him to see all of you, and he just… stared for a moment or two. A shiver ran down your back. An unfamiliar, but pleasant shiver. 
Without a word said, Bucky reached out and gently touched the thin strap of your silky night dress resting on your shoulder. His metal finger gliding along your skin and making you gasp at his cold touch. 
“What’s this?” He asked in his usual teasing tone. “Trying to tempt me with this excuse of a night dress, wife?” 
Fuck. Had his voice dropped lower? 
Fuck! He was so close to you. You didn’t even notice that your heart had begun racing. Your breaths had deepened. Shit. Why was this so hot?! 
“Are you? Tempted?” You asked with a steady voice, without thinking obviously. You just needed to say something so he wouldn’t notice the way you were basically panting after him like a thirsty dog. 
He chuckled. But remained quiet. 
So you said, “Thought so.” You sounded smug but you were feeling the complete opposite. 
Bucky scoffed in that arrogant way he often did. It was insane how easily you were able to pick up on his mannerism when you hadn’t even known him for that long. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want to sleep with you?” 
Oh. 
Oh this was bad. Because now your brain was making up hot, steamy scenes in your head. Scenes involving you and your faceless, mysterious husband in the dark. Entwining bodies on soft bed sheets. Fuck, you should paint that. No, what?  
“Then why haven’t you?” You found yourself asking. 
Okay then, bold as fuck it is. You’d gone past the point of no return now. Guess it was time for this conversation. 
Bucky’s fingers remained on your shoulder, tracing the thin strap there. And you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “You want me to?” His metal hand dropped to your waist and before you could fully process it, he pulled you closer, leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You want my hands all over you, wife?” 
You could feel his slight stubble against your skin as he spoke. His lips brushing against your ear, making you gasp and tremble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. And oh, he was pulling you even closer. Your chest pressing against his. The cool material of his suit felt amazing against your warm skin. 
“Look at you,” He cooed into your ear. “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips moved lower, brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You like how rough my hands feel?” He moved his hands up and down your sides. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands?” He chuckled when he heard the tiniest moan leave your mouth. “You’re so soft and warm, aren’t you worried what these hands might do to you?” 
He nuzzled your neck, hands roaming all over your sides and back and squeezing your butt. You became so pliant under his touch. Tilting your head back to allow him to kiss all over your neck, pressing your chest more and more against his like you couldn’t get enough. The layers of clothing, you wanted them gone. 
With a shaky voice you murmured, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or turn me on.” 
He laughed. And it was the best sound you’d ever heard. 
“You’re sick in that pretty head, huh?” He teased. “That beautiful brain is filled with filthy, dirty, dark thoughts, isn’t it?” His metal hand reached up and carefully wrapped around your throat. 
You gasped as he squeezed just a little bit. Those dirty thoughts he spoke about really started to fill your head. 
“Are you just all talk or–,” 
He cut you off by dragging you all the way to your bed, still holding you by the throat. 
The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he gave you a slight push, ending with you falling onto your bed on your back. You looked up at him, hovering above you, his lower body pressing into yours. 
“Do you just run that mouth?,” He asked, supporting himself with one hand while the metal one remained wrapped around your throat, his voice low and menacing but in a way that made your legs part on their own so his hips settled in between them. Your bodies fit together like the most perfect puzzle pieces. “Or do you know how to take it like a brat as well?” 
You felt the need to let him know then. “I don’t know,” You said, sounding both breathless and bratty. “I’ve never had to take it.” 
He paused for a moment. Then asked in subtle surprise, “What do you mean?” Even his grip around your throat loosened completely. 
You squirmed in slight embarrassment but that only caused your hips to grind against his and for a moment there both of you let out a strained moan. Fuck. The tension between the two of you was almost physical now. Even in the dark, even with Bucky being nothing more than just a shadow above you. 
“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, still feeling his cold fingers all over your skin, “I’ve never been with anyone before.” 
He was quiet. As if thinking. You tried your hardest but you couldn’t see any of his facial features. You knew he had a slight stubble because you’d felt it earlier. But aside from that, you knew nothing. Not even his eye colour. 
“You want us to stop?” He asked, shifting his body slightly as if he was ready to pull away if you asked him to. 
“No,” You answered way too quickly. Then you got bold again and let your hands find their way back to his shoulders. You pulled him down, closer to you just a little and said, “This is okay.” 
His fingers moved up, from your neck to your mouth. “Yeah? You want this, huh?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his fingers. You shivered under his touch. “You’ve been a whiny little brat lately, haven’t you, wife? Pouting and all just because I wouldn’t show myself to you.” He whispered, leaning in to just brush his lips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his soft lips rubbing against yours. Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t think my staff doesn’t report back to me. I’ve been well aware of all the times you asked the ladies to give you details about me.” 
Now that made you squirm in embarrassment. Still you said, sounding a little annoyed at being caught. “Can you blame me?”
“Can’t you just trust me?” He argued. 
The danger and authority in his tone had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the torturous pain in between your legs. You were almost certain you had never been this turned on and annoyed at the same damn time before. You sighed in frustration. “This isn’t fair.” 
“No, it isn’t,” He said, pulling away and began undressing you to your pleasant surprise. “Deal with it.” 
Oh fuck. 
Fuck… You had to hold back from whimpering each time his hands rubbed against your skin. He took his time in sliding the straps of your night dress down your shoulders, dragging the silky fabric down your body, leaving you more and more naked under him. 
You shivered once he left your night dress bunched around your waist carelessly. It wasn’t just because of the slightly cold air. It was because even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was staring right at you. 
You spoke in a hushed voice, not daring to speak loud in fear that it might break whatever spell you were under. “So you get to see me naked all you want, but I can’t see your face?” 
He chuckled. “You want me to leave this room right now? Leave you here all wet and squirming? Or do you want me to take care of it and make you come? Huh?” 
That shut you up really quickly. 
“I thought so.” He sounded smug again when he said that. “I should spank you for the brat you are. But since it’s your first time… I’ll be nice.” 
His hands touched you everywhere, your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, your neck… everywhere. He left you gasping and trembling under him. 
“Please.” You caught yourself whispering. 
Bucky leaned down, his soft mouth brushing against your cheek as he said, “Please what?” 
You squirmed, “Touch me, please.” 
He chuckled. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your naked body. “Look at you,” He murmured, lips brushing against your stomach, “You’re so eager already.” 
You heard the faint chuckle which left his mouth the moment he noticed your legs spread apart for him naturally. Your face felt like it was burning but fuck, you were too turned on to even be properly embarrassed. Also, being in complete darkness helped. 
Damn. You were really getting intimate with your husband whom you hadn’t even seen yet. And somehow that fact was making you want this even more. 
But that mystery stopped being an issue the moment Bucky leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.
He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than before. Back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan at the foreign feeling. Fuck he felt good. You whimpered as you felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. Your immediate reaction was to pull your hips back from the overwhelmingly good sensation his mouth was causing. And that made him grip your thighs tighter, keeping them pinned to the bed. 
“Stop moving.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble. 
You whined as you felt his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to his mouth. The metal hand on your warm skin made you shiver and tremble so much that you were thankful for the darkness. 
The small amount of moonlight which came in allowed you to only see the silhouette of his broad shoulders, and his head moving slowly, sensually in between your legs. Fuck… somehow the mystery only made it hotter.
Oh you were fucked in the head for real. 
And oh, Bucky was a fucking tease. Once he noticed how easily you cried out and moaned for him, he slowed down and began kissing around your clit just to purposely mess with you. He kissed your thighs, purposely avoiding touching where he knew you needed him the most. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin around your inner thighs. 
“Bucky, please!” You cried out, hand reaching for his hair. When you managed to grab a fistful of his soft hair, you gave it a gentle tug. “Stop teasing me.” 
“You don’t get to give me orders, wife.” He said, sounding all proud and mighty. “I could just walk out of here and leave you like this. Naked and squirming.” 
“Please,” You begged again. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you. 
A scoff. Then he leaned in again. You whined and whimpered under him, with your legs wrapped around his head. Fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp instinctively as he flicked, and sucked, and teasing your clit as much as he could. 
“You’ve been a brat because you wanted your husband’s attention so badly, huh?” He taunted. “Is that what you wanted? Just my attention?” He chuckled. “You’re as calm as a happy kitten now, aren’t you?” 
His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of. You wanted more of him. 
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” You murmured, throwing your head back, moaning as he kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 
“Come for me, wife.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. 
You couldn’t even hold on for much longer, and ended up coming undone all over his tongue. Heart racing, legs trembling in his grip as you came. Your moans were soft and incessant. 
Fuck… that felt amazing. 
You had barely gotten your heart to stop racing, and Bucky was already standing up and in the dark you couldn’t see very well but it did look like he was moving away from the bed. 
“You’re leaving?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from sounding a little upset at his departure. 
All he said was, “Good night, wife. See you tomorrow.” 
You scoffed after he shut the door behind him, leaving you in darkness yet again. “Ghost.” 
— 
That night ended up being the first of many. 
Your days consisted of painting, and finally finding a flow in most of your pieces. Perhaps if you’re able to make a decent collection, you could start thinking about the exhibition seriously, you thought. When you weren’t painting you were either training your rapidly growing puppy, or baking. You’d begun taking your puppy out for walks around the mansion, consequently doing some more exploring of the grounds. 
After all that, each night you’d get in bed and wait for Bucky. It became part of your routine. And each night with him was different. He’d spend his time touching you slowly until you were purring for him like a kitten. Kissing you all over your body in the dark. Making you come all over his tongue and fingers. Kissing you until you moaned and pulled him closer just to feel his weight pressing down on you. 
But he would always leave after making you come. And you two never actually fucked. Neither would he let you make him come. 
On nights when he wouldn’t make it home, you’d worry yourself to sleep. But then each morning you’d find a note from him either in your studio or the breakfast table. He would always say some cheesy shit. And he would always promise to come see you later that night. 
On nights when you two didn’t engage in anything sexual, it was still just as fulfilling. Bucky would tell you things about his work, his past, his family. You learnt that he was over a decade older than you, and teased him about being an old man until he pinned you to the bed and tickled you until you couldn’t breathe. 
You learnt that he liked to keep to himself and stay as far away from his family as possible. He liked peace and quiet, which would explain his lovely home being here away from most people. 
The more you learned about him, the easier it was to grow fond of him. But the more you grew fond of him, the greedier you got. You wanted more. More of his time, his touch, his attention, and most of all, you wanted to see him. 
The mystery, while hot as fuck, was killing you. 
One night, things changed. 
Bucky came into your room as usual. He’d gotten bolder lately, he wouldn’t sit in the corner like a ghost anymore, instead he would find his way to your bed and only leave that bed after making you come hard. 
Tonight started out the same way.  
You felt his hands all over you as he pulled you closer to him under the covers. You giggled as he bit and licked that one sensitive spot on your neck. Your fingers had a habit of finding themselves in his hair. It was insane how easily you’d gotten used to being with him in the dark. How easily you could find his mouth with your own. How easily you’d find your way into his arms. 
It was weirdly comforting. His warmth, his voice, his touch. 
“Tell me about your day,” He murmured, kissing your neck while his hands grabbed you and caressed you wherever he could reach. 
You squealed when you felt his metal fingers wandering dangerously close to your clit. Then said, “It went pretty well. I went out to buy some supplies, made a new friend at the store, I went to see my father but he wasn’t home. I took our dog for a walk, I painted…,” You gasped when his mouth trailed down till he took a nipple into his warm mouth, while he slid two fingers inside you gently. “Oh fuck…” You whined. 
He kissed his way up to your mouth again and said, “You sound so good when you moan for me, wife.” His lips brushed against yours. 
He was so close. And it was dark. And you wanted so desperately to see him. 
He moved his fingers expertly in and out of you. Making sure to brush against your most sensitive spots each time, turning you into a whimpering mess under him. He gave you a gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge. 
You whimpered and whined, then in the moment you just blurted out, “Can I please see you now?” 
Bucky stopped. He pulled away from you, making you whimper again as he got up and got out of your bed. 
In the dark it took a while for you to figure out where he was, whether he was still nearby or already making his way out the door. But he was here, standing near the bed. 
“We talked about this.” He said, sounding grave and disappointed. 
“But it’s been so long.” You argued. “I trust you.” 
He let out a loud exhale and said, “Then trust me when I say, it’s better this way.” 
You let out a sigh. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever, Bucky. Literally!” 
“Yes I can. I will.” He said arrogantly. That tone of his bothered you. “It’s better this way.” He repeated, but it sounded a lot like he was trying to convince himself instead of you. 
“Oh screw you!” You said with enough bitterness to make a grown man flinch. “If you won’t let me see you then stop coming into my bedroom. I don’t want to see you unless you agree to let go of this weird persona.” 
“Fine.” 
That night was the last time you heard from Bucky. 
He didn’t come home the following day. Nor the one after that. 
And no one knew where he went. 
You could tell something was wrong when you began noticing that the guards were talking in hushed voices whenever you were around. You noticed that the amount of security around the house doubled. That’s when you began to worry. 
By the third night, the entire house was filled with this almost tangible tension, worry, and fear. The house staff wouldn’t talk to you as much. The guards were always in and out of the house. The head of security advised you to not wander too far away from the house while you roam the grounds. 
You noticed the guards would follow you whenever you left the property. Be it when you left to visit your father at your old house or when you went out to buy supplies. 
Then you worried some more. But no one had answers to your questions. Nobody knew where he went. Whether he’s away for an assignment or if he’s simply choosing to be away from home. 
You tried your hardest to pretend that you didn’t care. You were still a little angry. After all, why couldn’t you see what he looked like? You’d spend so much time with him in the dark, running your hands all over him, tracing the outline of his facial features, he never had an issue with that. But why couldn’t you see him? 
You were angry, but also very much worried by the fourth day. You missed him, you realised. He had become such a habit, such a constant in your days. His sarcastic humour, his gentle hands, his comforting embrace, the way he left you notes in the morning, the way he took your art seriously. 
Fuck. You sat up in bed one night, patting ‘his’ side of the bed softly. You missed him. Badly. You felt a pinch inside your chest which you had never felt before. It hurt. You wanted him home. You admitted to yourself with a painful sigh. 
“Where are you?” You whispered, looking at the dark corner of your bedroom where he used to sit in silence like a ghost. “It’s okay if you want to stay in the dark forever.” You looked around the dark room which now without him seemed so much bigger and empty, “Just come home.” 
The next morning, as you half-heartedly approached the kitchen, you overheard something. And quickly realised you shouldn’t have heard it. It was the two ladies talking in hushed tones, the ones who usually served you your meals and often kept you company while you baked. 
“...cannot tell her, she’ll be heartbroken.” One of them said gravely. 
Sudden panic made your body freeze. You pressed your back against the nearest wall to keep yourself hidden while you processed those cryptic words. No, no, no. Is he hurt? Do they know something you don’t? 
The other replied, “But she deserves to know. Even if it’s not confirmed yet. I mean, do you see how she smiles when she reads his notes? Clearly she had grown to care for him. She needs to know.” 
The other argued, “I know, but I cannot imagine how hurt she will be when she hears about the rumours that her own father kidnapped her husband due to some past rivalry which was supposedly laid to rest after their wedding.” 
“They’ve been looking for him for days now. It’s been too long, he should’ve been found by now.” 
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! 
No. This cannot be happening. 
You carefully walked away from the kitchen. Thinking, processing, analysing. 
If your father did it, it must’ve been for some shitty, arrogant reason. He probably just wanted to rub it in Bucky’s family’s face that he could still eliminate his biggest threat if he wanted to. To show that he could still get rid of them by holding their most precious weapon hostage. To toy with them by making them wait in anticipation. Your father had done it before. Not with Bucky, but other people. He usually never asked for ransom but he liked having his rivals beg him for mercy. 
Shit. He’s had Bucky for days now. 
You moved without thinking twice about it. For some reason, your brain knew exactly what to do even though your heart was still bothered by a multitude of emotions. It felt like you were on autopilot. 
You rushed into Bucky’s office and grabbed a handgun from his desk drawer, checked if it was loaded. It was. You knew Bucky kept it there for safety, he had told you that one time when you two were in bed together. 
You let out a frustrated sigh, then felt movement around your ankles. You looked down at your puppy and gave her a sad smile as you bent down to pet her. “I’m gonna go find daddy, okay? I’ll be home soon.” You left her with a kiss. 
You rushed back downstairs and found a group of armed guards in the foyer near the front door. You didn’t have the time to explain it all to them, especially since you were driven by a gut feeling. Instead you asked, “Do you guys have a way of tracking my phone, or my car?” 
One of them nodded. The rest frowned in confusion. 
You tried to keep your calm as much as you could even though your heart was racing. “Okay, I’m gonna go to my father’s house. Don’t follow me yet, but I need some of you to come find me as soon as I begin driving away from there.” 
Surprisingly, they just nodded and let you go. 
The whole time you drove to your father’s house, it felt you were constantly having to force yourself to keep calm. After four days of having no idea where he was, and now as all the puzzle pieces fit together, it was hard to remain calm. You just wanted to get to him. 
And while you drove, unanswered questions tormented you. 
Was he hurt? Where was he being kept? Was he beaten up? Was he even conscious? Would this end badly? How far would your father take this? Would he hurt him? 
Before you knew it, you were entering your father’s property. The guards let you in like they always did. You had to take a minute to breathe in your car before stepping out and going inside your old home. 
Luckily your father was home. 
You walked in and stopped in the middle of the foyer as you saw him making his way down the stairs. He slowed down when he noticed the glare you sent his way. And when he stopped in the middle of the grand staircase, with you still glaring at him, the guards who were scattered around the entrance noticed. You caught the way they silently got closer and closer, slowly reaching for their guns. 
Good thing you’d brought your own. 
The guards, as well as your father, froze in place the moment you pulled out Bucky’s gun and pointed it at the man responsible for all of this shit. No one made a single sound. No guard moved to even try to disarm you. 
You looked at your hand, which was surprisingly steady as it held the gun. And there, on the side of the shiny metal, you spotted Bucky’s initials. Your heart throbbed in a painful way, but you refused to be emotional right now, even though you needed a good cry after having bottled up your feelings for the last few days. 
You glared at your father, who was still shocked, and asked in a cold tone you’d never used before, “Where’s my husband?” 
Your father frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?” 
You repeated, “Where is he?” 
Your father scoffed, “You’ll shoot your own father? Is this how I raised you?” 
“And you’ll kidnap your own son-in-law? For what? To show that you’re still the shit?” You questioned in a slightly raised voice. 
He sighed like he was disappointed, “You don’t know what–,” 
You cut him off. “We had a deal, right? That these petty attacks would stop after the wedding? That’s why I got married, isn’t it? Because we’re supposed to keep family safe?” 
He was quiet for a moment. Then began talking again, “If I could just get them to–,” 
“Enough!” You sounded just as tired of his bullshit as you were. “Whatever plan you have, just stop!” Then it came spilling out of your mouth, “You were supposed to protect me. All of us,” You said, referring to your older siblings, “Instead you married each of us off in exchange for whatever or whoever was going to benefit you more.” 
He argued, “If this works, you can come back home. Don’t you want that?” 
“No,” You said, and realised you meant it. “This was never home.” You admitted. “He treats me better than my own family ever did. He doesn’t tell me that my art is a waste of time. He doesn’t keep me imprisoned inside his home. He doesn’t choose who I should mingle with and who I shouldn’t. He doesn’t force me to join family businesses because it’ll be good for his image.” You taunted your father. “And he’ll never sell me to the highest bidder.” 
Your father made a sound like he was disgusted. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?” 
You remained quiet. I care for him, you wanted to say, deeply. But that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Truth was… you did fall for him. His calm voice. His gentle but playful demeanour. His dark humour. His brilliant mind and sharp tongue, always ready to argue and debate. His gentle touch… you loved him. 
“What I do and who I care for is none of your concern anymore.” You concluded, stepping forward and keeping the gun aimed at his face. “Now, where is my husband?” 
The smirk on your father’s face was maddening. “You’ll never find him,” He said. “I’ve hidden him well.” He added.  
You gave him a smirk as well. One which mirrored his. 
“Oh don’t make me do this.” You cooed. “Did you forget all those times you got drunk and confessed all the bad things you did?” You began listing, “All those times you spilled all your little secrets. About our family businesses, about your allies, the lies and betrayal. The bodies that are buried on this very property. The skeletons in your closet.” You gave him a sick, sweet smile. “Imagine if all that information just magically ends up in the ears of your rivals, dad. Imagine the carnage.” 
His smirk disappeared. “You would betray me by siding with them?” He asked in disbelief. 
You were getting tired of this. So you lowered your gun and said, “I am one of them.” 
You walked out without a single glance back at your father, but you could tell he had his jaws clenched in anger. He hated being outsmarted. But his mistake was underestimating you. 
And as for Bucky’s location, well your father gave it away when he said ‘I’ve hidden him well.’ 
There was only one place he believed you knew nothing about since at the time that he told you about it, he was drunk out of his mind as he confessed more of his crimes: the rundown warehouse which he used as a hideout/storage for weapons and arms. 
Your father had always referred to Bucky being a ‘weapon’ so it was only fitting that he would think to hide him there. Thinking no one would find him. 
But you would. 
As you drove to the warehouse, you hoped that the guards were tracking you as you had instructed them to. Because if Bucky was truly there, there was a high chance that there would be some guards, and that Bucky must be injured. And you’d need help getting him out of there. 
Driving to the warehouse, you had silent tears streaming down your face. Not just out of sadness, but also frustration. Fuck, what had your life become? 
The warehouse was a disaster, you realised as you approached it. Large, crumbling, windows boarded up with rotting wood, broken machinery scattered around the outside. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. And it was exactly the type of structure no one would bother to look twice at. The perfect place to hide illegal things, and son-in-laws you hate. 
There weren’t as many guards as you expected. Which would mean that Bucky was either chained and locked up like an animal, or that he was injured to the point where he was too weak to fight his way out of here. 
Or both. 
You shivered as you got out of your car. The few guards who were around noticed you and one of them began walking faster towards you the more you got closer to the entrance. 
“Miss, you can’t be here. Your father explicitly said no one is allowed–,” 
You scoffed and said, “Oh, I know what he said.” You kept walking. “What will you do? Shoot me?” 
“Miss,” He tried again, “I can’t let you–,” 
You turned towards him and placed the barrel of Bucky’s gun right under the guard’s chin. “You were saying?” 
Then you heard it. A fleet of cars approaching. The guards heard it too. You heard them yelling at one another while the one in front of you remained frozen in place. You smirked at him and said, “Now go play with them.” 
You had just enough time to duck and run inside before the gunshots began. You didn’t stop. The interior of the warehouse was just as dilapidated as the outside, and by the sound of it, there were quite some guards on the roof. Their heavy footsteps as they ran to duck and try to escape the bullets raining down on them echoed inside the empty warehouse. 
It was fairly easy to spot Bucky. But fuck was it painful to see him that way. 
He was chained to the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles. His body slumped on the ground, his breaths ragged. You could tell he was tired. Perhaps tired of fighting against the chains. You couldn’t hold back your soft sob as you ran to him. 
They had left his muzzle-like mask on him, covering the lower half of his face. The leather jacket and gloves he wore were covered in blood and dirt. A lot of blood. You knelt down in front of him and that’s when you noticed the bullet wound on his thigh. It looked fresh. 
“Bucky?” You called, reaching a hand to touch his face. He was cold to the touch, but stirred at the sound of your voice. “Bucky, come on. Wake up. Please.” You sniffled and inched closer to him, “I’m here, I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?” 
He let out a weak cough. You could barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots outside. 
“Bucky,” You tried to get the chains and shackles off of him, “Come on, wake up. We need to go home.” Your own voice cracked as you felt the silent tears streaming down your face as you were unable to get the shackles off. “Please,” You begged. 
Then as the gunshots outside faded away, you heard Bucky’s faint voice saying, “Use the gun.” 
You turned to face him. “What?” 
He spoke again, his voice raspier than usual and sounding muffled due to the mask. “Shoot at the chains.” 
Your hands trembled just a little as you reached for the gun you had brought. His gun. And you said, “Okay, don’t move.” 
You did. And only missed twice. 
Breaking the chains left the shackles still around his wrists and ankles but that could be dealt with later. You were panicking, wondering how you’d get him out of here but the guards barged in just in time. And you let out a sigh of relief when they ran straight to Bucky and carefully picked him up. 
As a couple of them managed to get Bucky in the backseat of your car, one of them let you know that there was a doctor and his assistants already waiting at home to tend to Bucky. Another one asked you what to do regarding the warehouse. 
“Burn it.” You told him. “I’ll deal with my father later, right now we need to get Bucky home.” 
On the drive home, Bucky kept trying to talk. But he was so weak he could barely get full sentences out. 
“Weren’t you mad at me?” He asked.
You sniffled and said refused to answer that. Instead you said, “Try not to talk. You’ve been shot, we don’t know how much blood you’ve lost,” You rambled. “Let’s get you to the doctor, okay?”  
“S’okay,” He mumbled, “It went through.” 
That only hurt more. “Bucky please, you need to save energy, okay? We’re almost home.” 
“They… shot me with my own gun.” He refused to keep quiet. 
At first you thought his brain was being delirious and making him ramble. Because of the pain, exhaustion, thirst, hunger. But then a weak sound left his mouth. Still muffled by the mask because no one removed it, and it sounded a lot like a very weak, faint laugh. 
“Eros got pierced by his own arrow after all.” He mumbled. 
You held back a sob. Then muttered, “I hate you so much, Bucky Barnes.” 
Another weak laugh. “No, you don’t, wife.” 
Then he passed out cold. 
— 
The next few days which followed Bucky’s rescue went by so fast and so painfully. The medical team kept close watch on him for days. Bucky was in and out of consciousness a lot. All the meds and the exhaustion kept him constantly out cold. 
The nurses and the house staff were constantly around him. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into his room. Not yet. You’d linger near the door and the doctors and the staff would constantly update you about his condition, but you never went in. 
Mainly it was because of shame. At what your father had done to him. But also you were still making peace with and processing your own emotions and you couldn’t face him until you were fully ready. What was important was that he was rescued and safe in his home. 
About a week later, the medical team finally left. And promised they would do frequent check ups and told you that Bucky needed a lot of rest. 
And that night, you managed to find the courage to finally step inside Bucky’s bedroom. It was a lot like yours, just larger. The room was dark when you walked in. But the open curtains allowed some light in from the outside. 
Okay. You spoke to yourself as you approached Bucky’s bed. It’s high time you find out who you married. 
Your hands shook a little as you reached for the dim lamp on his bedside table. But you turned it on quickly before you could talk yourself out of it. 
The golden light illuminated the room partly, and there he was. A little bruised, with a cut on his lip. His handsome face made you smile and tear up at the same time. You couldn’t hold back from reaching to touch his face softly, carefully. You ran your knuckles along his cheek and whispered, “There you are, ghost.” 
He stirred. And soon, a pair of sparkling blue eyes look up at you. For a moment you panicked, wondering if he would be upset. But instead he said, “This is cheating.” 
You let out a soft laugh and asked, “How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for days.” 
“I feel like beating your father up.” He mumbled. 
“Oh, same.” You agreed. Then added, “I’m so sorry for what he did to you.” 
Over the past few days, the guards had gathered what had truly happened the day Bucky went missing. Turns out, he did leave for an assignment but your father and his men had been keeping a close eye on him for days, and since the wedding was supposed to have ended all rivalry, Bucky had his guard down as he entered your father’s territory. And your father had the upper hand for once and took advantage of it. Bucky was cornered, outnumbered and taken. He was kept in that warehouse up until you found him. 
“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered, reaching for your hand on your lap. He gave your hand a soft squeeze and said, “You saved me.” 
You couldn’t look away from Bucky. It felt so intimate to finally be able to see his face. Then rather sheepishly, you asked, “Can I sleep here? I’ll be careful.” He was still injured and in pain, but you just wanted to be close to him. You needed to. 
He smirked, “Come on.” You walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, keeping some distance between you and him. He turned to look at you and said, “Want me to leave the light on?” 
You nodded. And he did. 
— 
A lot changed after that. 
Bucky was healing from his injury and was starting to walk again. Which meant that he was home a lot. He did ‘work’ but it mainly consisted of him ordering people around on the phone. 
Him being at home meant that he followed you around as much as he physically could. He would spend time in your studio, sometimes he’d stay for hours and watch you finish your pieces. He also spent a lot more time with your dog, taking her on short walks and teaching her new tricks. 
He’d stay with you in the kitchen while you baked. He’d go with you whenever you went shopping for supplies. Bucky became your shadow. And consequently, spending this much together made you feel closer than ever to him. 
He became your best friend. 
He also became a lot more… bold. 
One night Bucky found you in his bathroom. After that night when you first slept in his bed, you hadn’t gone back to your bedroom. So now, most of your things slowly found their way into his space. Like your night time skin care products. 
Bucky crept up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. 
You met his eyes through the mirror and gave him a smile. “Your limp is nearly gone.” You announced, noticing the way he walked was so much better now. 
He gave you a look which meant nothing but mischief, “And you know what that means?” 
You could already tell where this was going. You immediately turned him down. “Bucky, we cannot. You’re still injured.” 
“But it’s been weeks.” He said it like it was the ultimate torture. “Don’t you miss those nights we spent together? Hmm?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. He knew it was one of your weaknesses. “Remember how good it feels when I make you come?” 
You sighed, letting him kiss you and hold you for a moment. “Buck… you’re still healing.” 
“Come on, baby,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck, “I’ll make it so good. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.” 
You almost gave in the moment he playfully bit your neck, his hands finding the belt of your robe and shamelessly undoing it before sliding in to touch your warm skin. “But,” You tried to find something even though all you wanted was to drag him to bed, “Your stitches…” Your words ended in a soft moan as his metal fingers found their way in between your legs, circling around your clit. 
Bucky growled. Growled. Then said, “Fine, you get to be on top then.” 
You froze, and let out a nervous chuckle. “But I…,” You opened your eyes and met his through the mirror. “I–,” 
“Shh, it’s okay.” He reassured you, remembering the time you told him you’d never done anything with anyone before. “I know.” He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.” 
And he did. Patiently. 
He took his time in undressing both of you and held your hand in his as he laid down and pulled you on top of him. 
“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” You murmured. 
He gave you a reassuring smile. “You won’t, baby. Now come on.” 
He watched as you carefully straddled him, settling comfortably around his waist. One hand holding his metal one tightly while the other remained splayed over his chest. 
Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust as he tugged on your hand, pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned down gently and pressed your mouth to his. His warm hand immediately rubbed up and down your side lovingly. He pulled away just a little and whispered against your mouth, “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?” 
You nodded, already breathless. 
“Tell me, baby. What do you want?” 
You told him the one thing you desperately wanted. “I want to touch you.” 
Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist, your core pressing down on his crotch. “Go on then, touch me.” He murmured. 
He watched you intently as you reached out and touched his face first. Bucky’s heart was racing, you could tell by the way he breathed, as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs, so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch. 
You gave him a teasing smile when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your naked body. 
“Don’t tease me,” He mumbled. 
You chuckled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss before hesitantly wrapping your hand around his cock. Part of the reason why you kissed him while doing it was because you were worried about your lack of experience, so you did it to distract him. 
But he caught it. And wrapped his own hand around yours, making you grip him tighter. You pulled away from the kiss and looked into his pretty eyes. Bucky was breathing heavily. You let his hand guide you as you gave him an experimental stroke, a gentle up and down movement. 
He felt thick and hard, and big. You looked down for a quick minute as you let him continue guiding your hand, lazily stroking his cock, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you looked back up at him and kissed your way down his neck, around the base of his throat, making him gasp in pleasure. 
“See?” He whispered, “You’re learning already.” He said as he slowly let go of your hand and let you touch him on your own. 
You continued exploring this new feeling. He was completely fine with just being there and letting you take your time. And you did take your time, touching him everywhere you could, stroking him as slowly or as quickly as you wanted to. Until he was so close to the edge, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth as  pre cum started dripping down his cock. 
Oh he was a sight to behold. But you were getting impatient, and you wanted him in you as soon as possible. So you stopped, earning a groan from him. 
“I want you,” You said. 
Bucky looked like he was barely able to hold back either. “Come on,” He held your hand again, pulled you in for a quick kiss as you straddled him properly. His hand reached down and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole, teasing you with it by sliding it up and down your slit a few times until you were whimpering. “Now sit on it baby come on,” He encouraged you as you began sinking down on him, gasping as his cock stretched you out. “You can do it.” He murmured, breathless as he watched his cock disappear inside you more and more. “That's it. All the way down, come on baby.” 
You were a moaning mess by the time you sunk all the way down, impaling yourself down on his cock. Fuck. You had never felt so full before. So fucking full. 
“You okay, baby?” He asked, holding you by your hips, moving you back and forth just a little bit to create some friction. 
You nodded, moaning at the slight movement. 
“Want me to help you move?” He asked, lips parted and he had that wild look in his eyes.
Fuck, he was beautiful. 
“Yes, please,” You whined, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself for what was coming. 
He wasted no time. Bucky grabbed you by the hips and helped you move up and down his cock. Your wet warmth wrapped all around him, making him swear under his breath and groan at how good you felt. 
You couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and feeling him twitch inside you. 
“Look at you.” He cooed. “Look how well you're taking it.” 
You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss his open mouth. He was so perfect. He was everything you had ever dreamt of, you realised. 
His metal fingers moved to touch your clit while you rode his cock, teasing you and bringing you closer to that edge. It wouldn’t take much. You were so overwhelmed already. 
“Bucky…” You whined, dragging your hands down and pressing both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him around his thigh area, where he was shot. 
Bucky watched you, your breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you got so, so close to the edge. 
And he knew. So he quickened his pace, still moving you up and down his cock while he rubbed your throbbing clit. 
“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come for me, okay?” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. His desperation was quite clear. He began to thrust his hips up even harder, matching your movements.
The air around you got hotter, and that look in his eyes made you want to live in this moment forever. Bucky was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen. A sweaty, moaning mess under you, messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. 
You were sure you looked like a mess too as you felt your walls clench around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly. 
“Come for me,” He whispered, “Come on, baby.” 
You came without a warning, crying out loud and impaling yourself down on him one last time as you did. Bucky thrust up into you one last time and came undone as well, both of you breathing hard and fast. 
You carefully got up from his lap and laid down beside him, body limp and slightly sore in between your legs. 
You were still catching your breath as you asked, “Did I hurt you?” You sounded just as worried as you were. 
Bucky chuckled. “I should be the one asking you that.” 
You smiled and snuggled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. 
“I’m fine, baby.” He said and kissed your forehead. 
You both laid there in silence for a while. 
Cuddling and relishing each other’s warmth, caressing each other’s skin. 
You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on your back as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeats against your cheek. You felt the need to ask him, “Why were you so against showing yourself to me?” 
He gave you a soft chuckle. “You just can’t let that go, huh?” 
“Nope.” 
He sighed, pulling you closer. “I was… afraid.” 
You frowned. “Afraid of what?” You pulled away and looked up at him. “Why did you hide this pretty face from me?” You gave him a quick kiss on his chest as you waited for his answer. 
He sighed again. “Everywhere I go, I… whenever people see me up close, it’s already too late. They don’t see a human anymore, they see death staring back at them.” He paused. You remained quiet. He continued. “I see it, you know? In their eyes. When they look at me and plead, or beg, or curse me.” A humourless laugh, then, “After some years of that, I began seeing it in the mirror as well. I saw the same thing they see. After years of brutality, and killing, and spilling blood,” A soft chuckle, “Years of being an evil Eros as you call it, I grew to hate my face.” 
You felt tears forming at your waterline but you couldn’t look away from him. Not when he was being so brave and vulnerable. 
He continued. “And then before our wedding, I looked you up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “And you were so beautiful.” He looked you right in the eyes and repeated, “You are so beautiful. I guess, I didn’t want you to look at me and see death, and ugly and all the other dark stuff. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the same one I see in everyone. That look of fear and disgust.” He finally admitted, “So I thought, I’d just hide and be a ghost.” 
“My ghost.” You corrected him, reaching out to cup his chin in your palm. “And I’m gonna need you to never stop haunting me.” You said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you to always be in the shadows. Be with me, even in the dark.” You gave him a smile. “I look at you now and you know what I see? I see a man who treated me with respect. A man who wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it. A man who gave me so much space for my creativity.” A faint smile, then you added, “You made me fall in love with art all over again, and now everything I paint, I paint with you in my mind.” 
He gave you a smile which both broke and mended your heart. 
“Oh Buck,” You cupped his gorgeous face with both hands and said, “You’re not death, or scary, or any other dark shit. You’re mine, and I love you.” 
He pulled you in for a kiss so quickly you barely processed it. “And I love you.” 
You giggled into the kiss and only pulled away when you were breathless. You kissed your way down his chin and nuzzled his neck, sighing in delight. 
Bucky said, “I think I should retire.” 
“Hmm,” You asked, “And what would you do in retirement?” 
“Watch you paint, raise our dog, adopt some more animals, attend your art exhibitions, and eventually make some babies with you.” He listed it all so easily. 
“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed.
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ahsokaismyqueen · 3 months ago
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Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.
You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks. 
 As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat. 
Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.” 
“But - but I threw something-”
“Your phone.” He informed you. 
Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.” 
“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up. 
Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks. 
He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight. 
“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick. 
“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.” 
You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”
Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk. 
You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.” 
“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear. 
You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?” 
His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”
“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly? 
“It’s the 11th. Why?” 
Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.” 
Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?” 
You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look. 
It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?” 
You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking. 
You didn’t need to be. 
A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air. 
Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!” 
“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again. 
“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!” 
“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said. 
A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”
He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”  
It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.” 
Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away. 
“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 
He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.” 
And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted. 
————————
“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could. 
He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.” 
You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.” 
Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest. 
“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him. 
He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin. 
You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.” 
Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.” 
You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again. 
“Well, look who it is.” 
Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.” 
Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . . 
“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.” 
Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies. 
He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”
“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart. 
He smirked. “You kept track?” 
You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.” 
The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”
“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin. 
You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.” 
To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?” 
You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along. 
“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face. 
“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s. 
“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you. 
Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach. 
“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary. 
“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief. 
You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek. 
“You’re - you’re pregnant?” 
You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.” 
As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh. 
“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?” 
“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other. 
You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake. 
________________
It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son. 
What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early. 
It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”
Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?” 
You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!” 
“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.” 
“What did you say?” 
But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.” 
You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible. 
A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?” 
“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you. 
You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?” 
She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said. 
Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase - 
“I’m here, I’m here!” 
To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side. 
“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.
“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse. 
“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile. 
Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.” 
“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind. 
Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?” 
He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.” 
“You - you what?” 
He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.” 
You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.” 
“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment. 
Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.” 
Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable. 
————————
“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously. 
“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.” 
You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder. 
A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.” 
“So far?” You said curiously. 
“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you. 
Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.” 
“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.” 
You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased. 
He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.” 
You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?” 
“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted. 
“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock. 
Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.” 
Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!” 
He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.” 
“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby. 
Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally. 
You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked. 
“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door. 
Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in. 
You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.
“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.” 
“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself. 
“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo. 
You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.” 
“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave. 
Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked. 
“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”
But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son. 
“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms. 
“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him. 
Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach. 
“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice. 
“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 
He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life. 
Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?” 
You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked. 
“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.” 
“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”
2K notes · View notes
alvojake · 9 days ago
Text
Just You | C.SN
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「pairing」 : san x fem!reader 「word count」 : 7.3k
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「synopsis」 : he was just your annoying roommate that you just couldn't wait to get away from. all of his late night rendezvous started to get under your skin so you just avoided him like the plague. that was until you needed his help getting to class and of course he wanted something in return.
「genre」 : smut, fluff, roommate!san, roommate au, enemies to lovers(ish)
「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, teasing, san acts like a doucebag but is actually pretty sweet, kinda mixed signals, kissing, rough and messy makeout, manhandling, petnames (princess, baby, darling, sweetheart...), dom!san x sub!reader, big dick!san, kinda inexperienced reader, praising, unprotected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting/marking, breast play, dirty talk, hickies, creampie, slight dumbification, rough sex, sickly sweet aftercare, mentions of a sex tape at the end, lmk if I missed anything!
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A chill ran down your spine as you followed your best friend, Harper, into the school’s main building. The storm from the night before brought a cold front along with it, making the air even more chilly than it’s normally been since fall started. Shaking off the chill, you looked around the hall, noticing that there were fewer people than usual.
“Oh yeah, y/n, did you hear about the science wing?” Harper asked as she fastened the strap around her umbrella after closing it.
You rubbed your hands together, trying to gain some warmth back into them before looking over at her confused, “I haven’t heard anything; what happened?”
“The whole building flooded, apparently, so they moved most of the classes to different buildings.” She explained as the two of you maneuvered your way down the hallway. However, she could tell by the panic in your eyes that you hadn’t heard anything. Stopping, she turned to look at you with a hint of worry: " Didn’t you get the email this morning?”
“No, the storm knocked the power out in the entire apartment complex, so my phone didn’t charge,” You started to panic a little as you pulled the device from your back pocket, and just as you thought the screen would turn on, meaning that it was dead, “it also reset my alarm clock when it came back on this morning so I woke up late and rushed to even get here on time and—”
“Y/n. Girl, please take a breath,” Harper grabbed your arm softly, making you look over at her, “Why didn’t San wake you up? You guys have chem together.” Her question was innocent, but the mention of your douchebag roommate made your mood sour so much more.
“San, wake me up? That’s funny, actually.” You scoffed, shoving your phone back into your pocket and running your fingers through your hair, “No, he was out late at night, probably getting his dick wet per usual.”
Harper couldn’t help but grimace at your vulgar words, but she knew you were right. San was the residential fuck boy, after all.
“I’m sure there’s someone from your class here, just ask them.” She asked as she looked around the hall, trying to stop a familiar face, but came up blank, and so had you.
“Son of a bitch.” You cursed lowly, looking around the hall once more, hoping by some miracle that you would see someone, but again, you couldn’t find a single familiar face. Then, an idea popped into your head, causing you to look back at Harper with wide eyes, “Harp, can I use your phone?”
Harper looked at the time before turning to look at you with a solemn look, “Sorry, babes, I’ve gotta get to class.” She patted your arm before a familiar face caught her eye, “isn’t that San? Why don’t you ask him?” She asked, pointing over your shoulder, and when you turned, sure enough, standing there on the other side of the hall was none other than Choi San, your douchebag roommate. 
Watching him chat and laugh with his friends like he didn’t have class in twenty minutes made your blood boil, it pissed you off. However, it pisses you off even more that you care enough to get upset. His carefree attitude and his self-righteousness were probably some of his more annoying traits, yet… it was also insanely attractive to you, and you hated it.
“Hey, earth to y/n.” Harper waved her hand in front of your face, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, “Go ask him.”
“Fuck me.” You groaned, and Harper patted your shoulder with an apologetic smile. After a few moments of contemplating if you really wanted to ask San for help, you just let out a sigh, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice. “Alright, I’ll see you later, Harper. That is if I don’t get arrested for attempted murder.”
Harper laughed softly with a shake of her head, “Good luck, girl.” Then she made her way down the hall towards her classroom, leaving you standing there.
Mustering up enough willpower to ask your attractive annoying roommate where your class had moved to. Hiking your bag higher up your shoulder, you turned and made your way over to where he was still talking to two of his friends. Once you were within eyesight, a smirk tugged on the male’s lips, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his letterman jacket. Your mind then started to wonder if it smelled like his cologne that you had grown attached to or how warm it was.
“What brings you here, roomie?” San asked, pulling you from your thoughts. Heat rushed up your neck, warming your cheeks. His feline-like eyes trailed the length of your body, which only irritated you further, seeing as you thought it was a bright idea to wear a skirt.
“San.” Your tone was curt as you looked at him, arms crossed over your chest as you tried with all your might to keep your voice steady despite the heat from his gaze. “Do you know where they moved chem?” The sas in your tone caused both of San’s buddies to laugh; one, who you recognized as Song Mingi, hit San’s arm as they looked down at you.
“Yeah, I do, why? Need help getting there?” He asked smugly, a knowing gleam in his eyes that told you that he was already sure that you did, in fact, need his help.
You inhaled sharply, trying to fight the urge to tell him no and walk away just so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing that you needed his help. However, you knew that if you did that, you would just end up being late to your class or missing it altogether. So you licked your lips before rolling your eyes and nodding.
“Yes, I do. My phone is dead, and there’s no one else from our class here," you told him, a small glare adorning your features, causing San to chuckle. The sound alone was enough to make you weak in your knees, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.
“All you have to do is ask princess.” San’s lip quirked into a sly smirk as he pushed himself off of the wall, taking a step towards you. His teasing tone made you wanna punch him in his stupidly attractive face because you would rather be caught dead than ask him straightforwardly. 
Dropping your hands to your sides, you glared up at him, “Fine, I’ll just figure it out myself.” With that, you turned and started walking down the hall, trying to ignore the fit of laughter behind you.
San shook his head before looking back at his friends with a dimpled smile, “I’ll catch you guys later.” 
You grumbled angrily to yourself as you made your way back out of the building, head on a swivel, hoping to spot anyone from your chem class to ask for the whereabouts of the building. The cold, harsh wind swept across your body, and you couldn’t help but shiver.
“You sure today was a good day to wear a skirt?” San teased as he stopped right next to you, his voice making you jump slightly. His eyes trailed along the length of your body once more, noticing the layer of goosebumps that covered your legs and how you were starting to shake.
You crossed your arms over your chest once more, trying to warm yourself up, “what do you want, San?”
“I'm taking you to class, of course.” He flashed you his signature dimpled smile, and you had to turn away as heat rushed to your cheek, turning your face red. For once, you were thankful for the chilly wind. “Come on, my car is this way.” San motioned over to the parking lot before he walked off.
You wanted to just tell him to screw off, but you couldn’t not unless you wanted to freeze out in the cold while you tried to find your class that you would inevitably be late for. So, swallowing your pride, you made sure no cars were driving by before jogging across the street and to San’s side.
San glanced over at you as you walked next to him, the small pout that was on your lip made his hands itch, wanting nothing more than to kiss it off. But he decided against it and just reached over, poking your cheek, causing you to swat his hand away and glare up at him.
“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, turning back to face away from him, causing him to chuckle.
“You’re cute when you’re all pouty.” He teases, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and unlocking his car. 
You bit the inside of your cheek at his remark, trying to ease the swarm of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.
Once you got to his car, you didn’t say a word as you walked over to the passenger side, but San was quicker and opened the door for you. You looked over at him skeptically and he just smiled at you with an unreadable gleam in his eye.
“Ladies first.” He mocked a bow as he gestured to the open door, and your eyes narrowed, trying to read him but to no avail, so you just let out a huff before stepping into the car.
San shut the door after making sure you were in completely before rounding the car and climbing into the driver's seat. He started the car and turned the heat on, making sure some of the vents were facing you before putting the car in reverse.
Your heart nearly stopped when he put his hand on the back of your headrest, turning his head to look behind him as he backed out of the parking spot. You couldn’t help but stare as he did so, and noticing your gaze, he turned back around and winked at you in the process. Heat rushed to your face making your ears ring in embarrassment from being caught. San chuckled softly as he threw the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. 
The drive over to the new building was filled with the hum of San’s car engine and the quiet music that spilled from the radio. Your leg bounced as you stared out the window, the little voice in the back of your mind reminding you of who you were sitting in the car with.
“Did you not check your email this morning?” San asked, glancing over at you just as you turned your head to look at him with a deadpan expression.
Letting out an annoyed sigh, you shook your head, “No, the power went out. Which you would have known if you weren’t so busy sticking your dick in some random bitch.”
Your snarky response made San smirk, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he turned into a parking lot. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous.”
A scoff escaped your lips as you looked at him in disgust despite the rapid beating of your heart. There was no way in hell that you would be jealous that he was fucking some random girl almost every week. Rolling your eyes, “Why would I be jealous? Who knows what you have.”
Parking the car, San looked over at you with a smug smirk, leaning over the center console until he was inches away from you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you turned to find him so close, wide eyes staring into his eyes.
“Who said I was talking about me?” He quipped, eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes once more.
Your face felt as if it were on fire as you stumbled over your words, none of which made any sense the moment they fell from your lips. San, of course, was enjoying every second of it as he continued to lean closer to you, watching in amusement as you backed away until you couldn’t anymore.
“S-San.” Your tone held a warning as you got ready to push him away, but he reached over to the door, pulling his student ID out of the compartment.
“What’s wrong, princess? You didn’t think I was gonna kiss you, did you?” He raised an eyebrow as he slowly sat back down in his seat.
Annoyance flowed through your veins as he continued to stare at you with that stupid smirk. Your jaw tightens as you unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your bag from the floorboard. Just as you were about to open the door, San locked them, causing you to look at him with a glare.
“What the hell San?”
“I’m going to be out late with the guys, so make sure to leave some dinner for me," he told you before turning the car off and unlocking the doors.
You just stared at him in disbelief, trying to find where the hell he got the audacity to try to order you around. Running your tongue over your teeth, you pushed the car door open, “You’re such an ass.”
San watched as you got out of the car, slamming the door behind you before storming off to the building, not even giving him a chance to catch up. He sighed before getting out of the car and following after you.
During class, no matter how many times San tried to grab your attention or even talk to you, you would just ignore him. Once the professor was done lecturing and left you to do your class work, you quickly pulled out your headphones, hoping to drown out any and all of San’s attempts with music. This worked until class was over.
“Hey, y/n, did you need—”
“No.” Your response was curt as you pushed past San and right out of the classroom because you weren’t about to be stuck in the car with him once again, not after the stunt he pulled before.
San had to bite back the smirk that was fighting to spread across his lips as he watched the tips of your ears turn red any time he got even remotely close to you. Though he knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, not when the two of you lived together.
You did owe him, after all.
Later that night, you found yourself standing in the kitchen waiting for the last of dinner to finish up. Watching with tired eyes as the time counted down before finally going off, you pulled the food out of the oven before plating everything on two separate plates and cleaning off all of the dishes that you had used to cook dinner.
Just as you stuck your own plate of food into the fridge, you heard the front door open, and your eyebrows furrowed. San wasn’t supposed to be back for at least another hour or so, you thought. Shrugging, you just grabbed his plate and sat it down on the table before making your way to the hallway, only to run right into San.
“Fancy meeting you here,” San teased, grabbing your arms softly as you pulled away from him. You looked up at him with a half-tired, half-annoyed expression before you noticed that he was alone, which was a surprise.
“We live together, San,” you said before moving to step around him. "Your food is on the table.” 
Noticing that you didn’t have a plate or anything with you, he quickly reached over and grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him. A small gasp of surprise fell from your lips as you stumbled back into him once more.
“Where’s your food?” He asked softly as you started rubbing your temples, just ready to escape back into your bedroom, not wanting to deal with any more of his mixed signal bullshit.
“I’m not hungry.” 
“You need to eat, y/n," San said before moving down to grab your wrist and pulling you into the dining room, ignoring all of your protests.
“San, seriously, I can eat later.” You groaned, trying to slip out of his grip, but his hold was far too strong.
He ignored you as he pushed you to sit down in the chair with his food in front of it. You opened your mouth to say something, but he fixed you with a stern gaze, and you quickly shut your mouth. Sighing, you grabbed the chopsticks and started eating slowly as San watched you for a moment before turning and going into the kitchen to grab the other plate.
When he sat back down, the two of you ate in silence, and you weren’t sure how much more awkward silence you could take before you went insane. So you finished your bite and went to push away from the table, but San’s voice stopped you.
“So, about what you owe me.” He started, setting his chopsticks down to look over at you, finding your confused expression. “Don’t tell me you already forgot about me helping you get to class.” He smirked, intertwining his fingers together to rest his chin on top of them.
You inhaled sharply as you figured out what he meant. Of course, he wanted something in return. Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in your chair, ready to hear whatever it was that he wanted in return. “What do you want, San?”
“You.” His response was curt, and you almost choked on the air as you looked at him with wide eyes. After a few moments, the shock wore off, replaced by annoyance.
Standing from your seat, you shoved the chair back under the table, “Yeah, no.” You huffed as you went to grab your plate, but San grabbed your wrist, tugging until you were standing next to him.
“I’m serious, y/n.” He looked up at you, and you couldn’t tell if he really was being serious or not. The last thing that you wanted was to become another notch on his belt.
“So am I San. I’m not becoming another one of your little playthings.” You stated, pulling your arm from his grasp and grabbing your plate.
You walked into the kitchen, narrowly missing his attempt to grab you once more, and rinsed your plate off. Annoyance radiated off of you in waves as you scrubbed the plate in your hands; you knew that being anywhere near San would only piss you off. Now, with his outrageous proposition, you couldn’t help but feel a bit upset by it. 
Sure, San was hot and was almost everything a girl looked for when looking for a boyfriend, but the only downside is that he never settles. You’re pretty sure that’s what bugs you the most because even if you said yes in hopes of something more happening, the chances were slim to none. So you just put your pride first and decided that you wouldn’t let it happen despite the growing heat that pooled in your core at the thought of San actually wanting you like that.
You had become so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed that San walked into the room until the water was turned off and hands were placed on either side of your body.
“San—” Your breath hitched in your throat as you turned to find him merely inches away. His grip on the counter was tight enough to let you know that you wouldn’t be going anywhere until he moved.
Looking up at him you scanned his face as his eyes flickered down to your lips once again. Dipping his head down, he moved until he was a breath away from your lips, and you were sure that your heart was in your throat at this point.
“San…” Your voice shook as you tried to back away, but the counter behind you left you little to no room to do so. 
“I want you y/n. Just you.” He whispered, his warm breath fanning your face causing your eyes to flutter, but you fought against the urge to give into him. Placing your hands on his shoulders to push away but he moved closer to you, his lips ghosting over your cheek. “Let me prove it to you, please.”
A whine fell from your lips when his breath blew over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The small noise was enough to drive San insane as he pressed against your body and moved to look down at you.
“Fine,” You released a breath as you looked up at him with a hooded gaze, “but I swear to go if you’re lying to me.”
San didn’t need to hear anymore before he reached up to grab the back of your neck, pulling you closer. “I’m not.”
Then his lips were on your with an almost bruising force, stealing all of the air from your lungs. A meek whimper fell from your lips as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, but it was impossible. San’s other hand moved from the counter to grab your waist, pulling you even closer, leaving absolutely no space between your bodies.
“San.” You let out a breathy moan as his lips trailed down your jaw before latching onto the burning skin of your neck. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders tightly, trying to ground yourself, but your mind was slowly slipping as San left dark purple and red marks along your jugular.
“Don’t slip away from me yet, darling; we’re nowhere near started.” His voice was husky as his lips grazed over your ear before nipping at the shell, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
His hands trailed down the length of your body as he captured your lips once more, finding the back of your thighs and hoisting you onto the countertop. A gasp fell from your lips, muffled by his as your hands clutched onto his shoulders.
Slotting his body between your thighs, he grabbed the back of your neck once more, pulling you down to kiss him once more. His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you obey, parting your lips and allowing his tongue to explore every inch of your warm cavern. 
He soaked in all of the little sounds that you made as he continued to play with your body until you were shaking in his hold from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. His fingers danced along the hem of your sleep shorts, igniting a fire in the pit of your gut, and a whine fell from your swollen lips when he moved away.
“As hot as it would be, I’m not gonna fuck you in the kitchen. Not this time, at least.” He chuckled, watching the way your doe eyes stared up at him, a silent plea gleaming in your orbs. Reaching down, he grabbed the back of your thighs once more before hoisting you onto his waist.
“Shit.” You groaned when you felt his hands cup your ass after your legs wrapped around him. The way his scent was surrounding you like this was making you dizzy, your nose buried in his neck as he carried you out of the kitchen. “You smell so good, Sannie…”
A chill ran down San’s spine when he felt your lips press against the sensitive skin right under his ear. He tried to keep his composure as you left a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck. There were sure to be marks in the morning.
“Princess…” San warned as you snaked your hand under the collar of his shirt, raking your nails down the taunt skin of his back. A loud gasp fell from your lips when his hand made contact with your ass, the skin stinging from the force, “don’t be a brat now.” He growled, but you only responded by latching onto his neck, biting down harshly, threatening to break the skin. “Fuckkk.” 
San was losing his composure by the minute, and the moment he finally made it to his bedroom, he was on his last strand of sanity. Throwing you onto his bed, he quickly crawled over you, trapping your body underneath his once more.
You looked up at him, focusing on how his eyes trailed all over your face before settling on your lips. His hips were pressed firmly against yours, and you could feel his bulge pressing right against your clothed core. You rolled your hips in search of some kind of friction, but San was quick to halt your movements, his grip tight on your hip as he moved a breath away from your face.
“Such a needy little thing. Weren’t you just saying today that you didn’t want me?” He teased, and your face grew warm as you recalled your conversation in the car, “but don’t worry, sweetheart, as long as you’re a good girl, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.” San smirked as he took in your lust-filled expression, your hips trying to move despite his firm grip.
“I’ll be good, Sannie, please.” You begged, hands grabbing at his shirt, causing him to chuckle darkly.
He then moved his hand from your hip, fingers hooking around the band of your shorts, tugging the fabric down your legs harshly, leaving your bottom half completely bare.
As soon as the cool air hit your heated center a whine fell from your lips, tears already pricking at your eyes. San watched you intently as he moved his fingers down your navel, slipping between your folds, collecting some of your slick on his digits before pressing down on your clit. A choked moan tore through your lips, back arching off of the bed.
“So wet and so sensitive, aren’t you, princess.” San chuckled as he slowly circled your clit, watching your jaw fall slack. Moving from your clit he traced along your slit before plunging one of his fingers into your warm heat.
“San!” You cried out at the sudden intrusion, tears already spilling from the corner of your eyes.
“You’re so fucking tight, fuck when was the last time you got laid?” San groaned, not missing the way you covered your lower face, and turned away from his gaze. Chuckling, he bent down, peppering kisses along your exposed collarbone, “No need to get shy on me now, darling, plus you won’t have to worry about that after today.”
Heat rushed up your neck at what his words implied, but any thoughts were wiped away the moment he interested a second digit, his thumb pressing down on your clit. Your back arched off of the bed, pressing your chest against his when he brushed over that spongy spot deep inside of your cunt. Taking note of your reaction, San continued to abuse that spot, relishing in all of the lewd, wet noises that were coming from your cunt the wetter you got.
“San– fuck, I’m gonna cum!” You cried out, eyes squeezing shut as your legs started to tremble, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening by the second, threatening to snap any moment.
“Go ahead, baby, make a mess of my fingers.” San cooed, nipping at your jaw as your high came crashing down, your whole body trembling in his hold while he worked you through your orgasm. Once the high faded, it was replaced with oversensitivity, making you whine, grabbing at his wrist.
“San–” You choked on a moan as he curled his fingers in you once more, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips. 
He so desperately wanted to absolutely demolish you, leave you ruined for any other man, so you had no choice but to come back to him. But he didn’t want to scare you away when he finally had you right where he wanted you. So he decided to leave his more sadistic tendencies for another time.
With one last stroke of his finger, he pulled them from your soaping cunt, causing you to whine from the empty feeling. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, making your body turn into putty in his hands.
“Don’t worry, princess, I won’t leave you empty for too long.” He slurred, lips trailing down your jaw once more before he pulled away to discard his clothes.
Your eyes were glued to his body, watching as he stripped himself. The sight left your mouth watering the more skin he showed. His perfectly chiseled abs were covered in a thin layer of sweat making his honey skin glow under the dim lighting. Noticing your gaze, he smirked, tugging his sweats off of his legs and letting his cock spring free.
The sight of his angry red tip made you swallow hard. Sure, you have been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. Sensing your unease, San shot you a reassuring smile before climbing onto the bed, his back resting against the headboard. He then motioned you over, and you slowly climbed onto your shaky knees, making your way over to him.
“It’ll be okay, sweetheart. We’ll go slow.” His voice was soft as you climbed into his lap, hands tight on his shoulders as you leaned against him. "And if at any point you feel uncomfortable, we can stop, okay?” he asked, fingers rubbing your thighs soothingly. You nodded, but San wasn’t satisfied with just that. He grabbed your jaw gently to pull your attention to his face. “Words, princess.”
“O-Okay.” You stumbled over your words when you felt him press against your bare heat, making your whole body shiver.
“Good girl.” He praised you, hands finding the ends of your t-shirt and pulling it swiftly over your head, leaving you in your bra. You started to rock your hips against his, dragging your soaping cunt along his dick, making him hiss through his teeth. His hands trailed from your thighs up your back until he reached the clasp of your bra, quickly undoing it and throwing it away, letting your breast pop free. “So pretty.” San groaned, hands moving up to cup your soft mounds while you continued to rock against him.
“Sannie…” You whined when he started to pinch and pull at your hardened nipples, another high already close. 
“Fuck you’re so hot like this.” San groaned as he watched you grind against him with fever, chasing another high, your hands gripping onto his shoulders tightly. He then slapped your ass once more, causing you to yelp and your movements to falter.
He then grabbed both of your ass cheeks and pulled you flush against him, another choked moan tearing from your lungs when your clit pressed against his pelvic bone. Using his strength, he guided your hips against his until you were a whining, trembling mess as another orgasm washed over you.
“F-Fuck San.” You choked out another moan as he continued to rock your hips, prolonging your orgasm. Your nails dug into his skin, threatening to break it as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.
After a few more moments, he let up on his grip, allowing you to just lay against him, but the feeling of his throbbing cock under you made your mind reel, wondering what it would feel like to be stuffed full.
“Come on, princess, ride me.” He nipped at your shoulder, causing you to shudder, but you lifted yourself from his neck nonetheless.
San leaned back, watching as you rose on shaky legs and reached behind you to grab his cock. Swallowing thickly, you started to jerk him off, earning yourself a low groan from the male, watching the translucent precum spill from the slit before you moved to slide the head between your slick folds.
You whimpered as you slowly started to sink down on his length, head becoming fuzzy from the stretch while San bit the inside of his cheek to keep from pulling you down all of the way. He didn’t want to hurt you, so he let you take your time, for now, watching with hooded eyes as you let yourself sink deeper and deeper on his cock.
You both moaned simultaneously, him from the way your tight cunt squeezed around him and you from the way he stretched you wide open. Tears dripped from your eyelashes as you tried your best to sit down fully, but you were starting to think you couldn’t fit him, making you whine. San chuckled, his hands squeezing your hips gently.
“Come on, princess," he cooed at you, watching you intently as you continued to try and sink deeper. "You’re almost there; you can do it, can’t you?”
You nodded vigorously, eye meeting his with a pleading look, and he tightened his grip on your hips, helping you sink down his length until he was fully bottomed out. He hissed through gritted teeth, eyes squeezing shut from how tight you were, and you let out a loud whine before your head dropped down into the crook of his neck.
You could feel him in all of the right places making your brain turn into mush, even more tears spilling from your eyes. It took you a few moments to get used to the new stretch before you even attempted to roll your hips against his. San groaned at the way your cunt continued to squeeze around him, your pace almost painfully slow, and he had to steel himself so he wouldn’t take over, but his sanity was hanging on by a thin string.
All of your sweet sounds were muffled by his neck as you continued to rock against him. The feeling of his tip brushing over your sweet spot with every roll of your hips made stars dance along your vision. San let you continue your treacherous pace while his hands continued to roam your body, squeezing at every inch of skin he could reach, soaking in all of the soft noises you were making.
Soon enough you were able to lift yourself up before dropping back down, all of your slick making it easier to glide along his length. San groaned as you kept your slow pace, his grip tight on your hip, trying his best to keep up, but he was slowly slipping away.
“Sannie.” You whined as he pulled your face out of his neck, crashing his lips into yours, swallowing all of your noises as you continued to ride him. His hands guided your hips, positioning you into a new angle that left you gasping for air, your pace faltering altogether.
San groaned as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, “Fuck princess, I’m sorry.” He apologized, and before you could even ask what he meant, he planted his feet behind you and stilled your hips before bucking his hips up into you.
A choked moan tore from your lungs as he set a brutal pace, his tip hitting all of the right places to leave you seeing stars. Incoherent moans and cries of his name fell from your lips as your back arched against him. San took the chance to latch his lip onto your chest, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving behind dark marks, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hand flew to his head, fingers combing through his hair as he continued to suck on your breast.
White spots started to cloud your vision as you felt your high creep up on you, a loud whine was pulled from you as San bit down on your nipple. You couldn’t even warn him as your body tipped over the edge, your body convulsing in his hold, broken and incoherent babbles being the only thing that came from your mouth as San continued to fuck into you.
“Fuck baby,” He groaned loudly from how tightly you were squeezing around him, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer, not with the way your sweet little cunt was sucking him in, “‘M close– fuck, where do you want me to cum princess?” 
You whined as your head fell back from the overstimulation, your thighs burning, begging to relax. You didn’t even register his question until he nipped at your collarbone.
“Inside.” You whined, and San could have sworn he died and gone to heaven, “I’m on the pill, inside, please, Sannie.” Your begging only brought San even closer to his end, and with a few more thrusts, he brought your hips flush against his, spilling deep into your womb.
The warmth was a new feeling making you squirm in San’s lap, your walls spazzing around him as you came once again, milking his cock for all that he was worth. Your body shook in his hold as you buried your face in his shoulder once more, a strangled whine muffled by his skin.
San wrapped his arms around your body as you both came down from your highs, his fingers tracing shapes on your skin to help soothe you. After a few moments, he pulled your face from his neck, making you look up at him.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess, and then we can sleep," he whispered as he peppered your face with soft kisses, causing you to giggle.
So he slipped out of your spent cunt before helping you clean up and handing you one of his shirts to slip on, even if your room was just across the hall. Then, once you were both back in the bed with the lights out, he pulled you close to him, his face buried in your neck, pressing gentle kisses all along your skin.
“God, I love you.” He spoke quietly, unsure if you had even heard him until you shifted around to face him.
Your hand cupped his face gently as you pulled him down for a kiss, this one completely different from the ones before. It was sweet, gentle, and filled with longing like the both of you had waited an eternity to share it.
“I love you too, even if you get on my last nerve.” You smiled as he chuckled and nuzzled his head into your chest. And that’s how the two of you fell asleep, content and happy in one another's arms.
The next morning, you woke up to the sun shining on your face. Groaning, you moved your arm to cover your face. The sun never came through your window this early in the morning, so confused, you cracked your eyes open and looked around.
Your heart then dropped when you realized that this wasn’t your room but San’s. Swallowing thickly, you looked down, seeing that you were wearing his shirt. All of the events from the night before flashed in your mind, making your face heat up.
Looking over, you found the spot next to you empty, making your heart sink. You couldn’t help but think of the worst: that he had been lying to you the entire time, and you felt stupid for even thinking that he was being genuine.
“Stupid.” You grumbled as you caught sight of your phone plugged in by his bed. Reaching over, you grabbed it and turned the screen on. Seeing the time, you almost had a heart attack until you saw the date, seeing that you didn’t have any classes today.
Then, your attention was brought to the few messages you had: one from Harper, one from a project partner, and one from San. You debated opening the one from San, but despite your better judgment, you clicked on it.
‘Had to get to class this morning, but there’s breakfast in the fridge. I’ll see you after class, princess.’
Your cheeks flushed red as you reread the message multiple times, hoping that you weren’t just hallucinating. Biting back a smile you typed a quick message saying that you’ll see him after class and thank you for the breakfast before backing out of his message.
Throwing the blankets off your body, you moved to stand, only to have to sit right back down as your legs shook. The tips of your ears turned red as you remembered how rough San had been the night before, and butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach.
Once you were able to stand on your wobbly legs, you made your way out of the room and towards the kitchen, messaging Harper. She then called you so you propped your phone up on the counter so she could still see you as you grabbed your food.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty– are those hickeys?!” She exclaimed, nearly making you drop your plate as you quickly turned to look at her like a deer caught in headlights. “Wait… is that San’s shirt?”
Swallowing thickly, you closed the fridge before walking over to the counter. "Maybe… " you trailed on nervously, and Harper just fell silent for a few moments.
“Wooyoung owes me twenty bucks.” She cheered, and you couldn’t help but look at her with a raised eyebrow, “We bet on how soon you two would just fuck it out.”
“You– what?” You choked on the air as you looked at her with wide eyes causing her to erupt in a fit of giggles, wiping fake tears from the corner of her eyes after she calmed down.
“Girl, please. We all could sense the sexual tension between you two.” She shook her head as you just looked at her dumbfounded. “So… how was it? Pretty good if those hickeys are anything to go by.” 
Your face started to burn once more as you shoved your mouth full of food to avoid the conversation. Grabbing your phone, you walked into the dining room and sat down at the table. Harper watched you with a smirk getting a kick out of how flustered you were.
Swallowing the food, you opened your mouth to start talking, but thankfully, you heard the sound of the front door opening and let out a relieved sigh.
“San’s back. I’ll talk to you later.” You quickly told Harper, getting ready to hang up the call.
“Okay, okay, but I want the deets later!” She said hurriedly before you ended the call just as San rounded the corner.
Seeing him made you shift in your seat a little, and when he flashed you his signature dimpled smile, you were sure you would melt in the very chair you sat in.
“Morning, beautiful.” He walked over, pressing a light kiss on your cheek before making his way into the kitchen, your eyes never leaving his form. “I have another class but needed to grab a snack," he told you as he walked back into the room.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, knowing that he had plenty of snack options on campus and only came back to see you. Chuckling at your reaction, he made his way to the door once more.
“I’ll see you tonight, princess," he told you as you walked out of the dining room to watch him slip his shoes back on. "Maybe we can watch a movie?” He suggested, and you nodded softly, wrapping your arms around your body.
“Sure,” You smiled at him as you walked over, and he grabbed his school bag from the coat rack.
Turning, he grabbed your waist, pulled you flush against him, and kissed you deeply, “or maybe we can make our own.” He teased, his feline-like eyes narrowing as he watched red dust your cheeks, and you slapped his shoulder.
“Weirdo, go to class.” You pouted, trying to hide your embarrassment, but more so how much his words turned you on.
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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ddejavvu · 1 month ago
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bff james w no boundaries — his main love language is physical touch and that includes biting,, like 😭 you’ll just be minding ur own business n he’ll bite your shoulder or anywhere really.
hope ur doing well angel. ❤️
"Here, Remus," You offer up a spoon of blueberry tart to the teenage werewolf, unphased by now at the closeness of your friends. Perhaps at eleven you'd be worried about swapping cooties when sharing spoons, but now you're only worried about plumping Remus's gaunt frame up again before the next full moon.
You extend the spoon towards Remus but in doing so you have to bypass James who's sitting beside you on the bench. You'd expected him to fake a lunge for the sweet, but when he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into what's in front of him it happens to be the flesh of your arm.
"Hey-ow!" You yelp, and despite your word choice, it doesn't really hurt. It's more of a grasp than it is a bite, just enough force to pin your arm between James's infuriatingly perfect teeth.
"Prongs," Sirius's face screws up in what you're sure is a mix of embarrassment and confusion at his friend's behavior, but perhaps there's a slight possibility of fear there, too. Fear that James has become a cannibal and the boy with the bed next to his will suffer tonight.
"That's good." James retracts his bite as quickly as he'd dished it out, smacking his lips like there'd been something swallowed and enjoyed, "That's good arm."
"You're a freak." Remus drawls, finally taking the tart from your spoon and letting the flavors wash over his tongue, "Pads and I are supposed to be the biters. Deer are just supposed to run away from everything."
"That's not true." James defends his animagus with a passion while Sirius snickers across the table, "Deer fight with their antlers. Sometimes deer fight so hard that their antlers come off. And deer do bite sometimes, thank you very much."
"Only during mating season." Sirius references the copious research they'd each done into their animal counterparts, "Don't steal another page from the dog book and start humping her leg, Prongs."
"It is not my mating season!" James exclaims, just a bit too loud for the social setting you're in. Your cheeks are blazing but thankfully James is making a fool of himself enough that no one is studying you. "I'm simply overcome with the urge to sink my teeth into people when I'm feeling particularly fond of them. Y/N's making sure Moony's stomach isn't flatter than his ribcage, and I appreciate that. Only a good woman shares her blueberry tart. Hence," He grins, more of a baring of his teeth than a smile, "I bite."
He leans down to take a chunk out of your shoulder this time, and you feel the sharp-but-gentle pricking of his teeth even through three layers of clothing.
You have the time and the power to raise your shoulder and clock James in the teeth with your bone. But you refrain, and perhaps that's why Sirius finally latches onto you instead of James.
"Careful, darling." He warns, his own canines glinting in the candlelight above, "Deer can go rabid. I'd make sure you're not contaminated with his saliva if I were you."
"Too late." James grumbles around the meat of your shoulder, raising his head quicker than you can react to lick a fat, wet stripe across your face, "I'm not rabid, Pads. But I can see why you dogs do the licking thing. It's not bad."
"Yes it is." You decide, smearing away his sticky spit with the sleeve of your button-up, feeling the phantom sensation of his teeth on your skin, "And if you do it again I'll bite you back."
"Kinky, you two." Sirius kicks you beneath the table, a wicked grin on his face, "Remus, I think we should take our meal elsewhere. Prongs and Y/N are about to start necking right in front of the pastries, and that's not the glaze I prefer on my donuts."
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months ago
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shouto cannot, for the life of him, stop thinking about you washing his hair.
it’s been almost an hour, 45 minutes have passed since you’d helped him wash his hair in the shower, you’d already showered before he got home, but you still wanted to help him, you’d insisted. he found it a bit strange, but he’ll never say no to spending extra time with you.
except now he can’t stop thinking about it—them. your hands all up in his hair that’s been getting longer, scrubbing and scratching at his soapy scalp. globs of soap falling against his shoulders and your pants getting wet as you sat on the corner of the bathtub. he wished you’d just get in with him, but he worried you’d feel uncomfortable if he asked, so he’ll leave it for another time.
and besides, he doubted he could get any words out with how good it all felt. he’s never had anybody wash his hair like this, taking their time and softly humming a song stuck in your head, so gentle and with such gentle smelling soap. soft and melty and malleable just like his brain felt with your hands in his hair.
46 minutes have passed now, but he wants to take a shower again.
his hands are warm, a nice aftermath of the bath he’d just taken, his cheeks are too as they squeeze into your neck. when he’s relaxed like this, shouto forgets how heavy he is, like when big dogs forget they don’t fit into people’s laps anymore. his pro hero mass presses against you and you have to hold yourself up against the counter. a fond smile makes its way onto your face as your arm makes a way into his now fluffy hair, also a nice aftermath of his bath.
“hello,” you giggle. shouto huffs against your skin, nuzzling into it like a cat. he offers you a hum and you both stay there quietly for a few more minutes.
“i want to do it again.” he mumbles against you. you raise a brow.
“do what again ?”
his hair tickles your nape, it’s been getting longer again. he presses a kiss to your skin, then another one “ i want you to wash my hair again,” another kiss on your shoulder and his arms tighten around you as you stop scratching at his hair. “please ?”
“sho, it’s been less than an hour,” you snort, checking the kitchen clock to make sure, shouto lets out a noise similar to a little whine into the crook of your neck.
“..please ?” he tries again, you laugh. shaking your head at how endearingly spoiled your boyfriend was.
“how ‘bout this..” you start, “i help you wash your hair tomorrow, how’s that sound ?”
shouto sits unmoving for a few seconds, then he nods. his nose runs against your neck as he lifts his head up to look at you. “will you come in with me ?”
you splutter. head whizzing to look at him slowly blinking at you. his hair hangs and falls in front of his eyes as he stares expectantly. you clear your throat before responding with a somewhat stable sounding "sure, okay." stable sounding enough despite the slight tremble in your throat and fingertips. shouto smiles up at you softly nuzzling into you again.
"i'm looking forward to it." he sighs.
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soapssuds · 2 months ago
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stubborn heart ch. 2
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yan!capitano x wife!reader
summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.
she/her pronouns are used, changed to 2nd pov
forgot the taglist, sorry about that
@nas-ha @simp-simp-no-mi @emmathecouchpotato4583 @sendria @riotakire @lvtuss @kreishin @floffytofu
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The moment your eyes cracked open you immediately noticed that everything was different. Namely your surroundings. Sitting up slowly, you held the blanket close to your chest, your eyes wide as you took everything in.
The bed that you were laying was big, the mattress way squishier and more comfortable than the one you were used to. Don’t get anything wrong here, Arlecchino always made sure that all of the children in the house of the hearth were taken care of, but servants like you who didn’t take up the fatui mantle were usually given less than stellar rooms, beds, and such. Not that you minded, of course, you knew that the ones who were actual fatui needed things more.
Slowly but surely, you got out of the bed. Your bare feet gently touching the cold ground. You flinched slightly at just how cold the tile was before fully standing up and looking around. There was a closet, a dresser, a second dresser with a mirror on it, you had a nightstand on each side of your bed, and to the far right were the windows. The curtains were a type of blackout cloth to keep any light from filtering in so you couldn’t tell the time of day unless you went to open the curtain which was also how you noticed there wasn’t a clock in the room. And finally, to the far left was the door to leave the room.
Making sure the blanket was tightly wrapped around you as you had noticed that you had been changed into your nightgown, you had made your way to the door. Grabbing onto the doorknob, you slowly twisted it and opened the door. Your head then peaking out into the hallway. Empty. Not a soul in sight.
Taking a deep breath, you fully opened the door and stepped out.
“Might as well explore.”
You had already figured that this was Lord Capitano’s home.
Deciding to go right, you took careful steps as you traversed down the hall, your eyes still wide with curiosity as you looked at everything. And, not looking where you were going, you had made a turn, but the moment you did you had immediately ran into someone.
Stumbling back a bit, you quickly gathered yourself up and bowed to the person, “I’m so sorry, please forgive me!”
“…are you going to faint again?”
You tensed up immensely the moment the voice broke you out of your stupor. Shakily, you lifted your head, your lips pursing into a small pout as you looked up at Capitano. Out of all the people you had to run into and it just had to be him.
“No, Lord Capitano…the first time I fainted, I was merely caught off guard at the news of marrying a harbinger!”
“And the second time?”
“Well, you caught me off guard too…”
When you looked at him, you noticed how he seemed to be studying you. Most likely judging you since you had decided to walk out in your nightgown with a blanket wrapped around you.
“Do you wish for a ceremony?”
Completely disregarding what you had said, he moved onto the next topic. Not that you minded, you were grateful that he didn’t want to discuss your fainting any longer.
“No, a ceremony isn’t needed.”
“Then follow me.”
He turned on his heel and for a moment, you wondered if he was coming to see you before you had run into him. Shaking your head, you chased after him, his long strides were a bit hard to keep up with.
“Don’t trip on the blanket,” he suddenly said as you both cam eto a winding staircase.
“Alright,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you followed him down, but, despite your assurance, your foot got caught on the end of the blanket. Your eyes widened for a split second just as your body started to go forward, but the motion was quickly stopped when you felt an arm wrap around your waist.
“Clumsy.”
The single word made your ears, neck, and face burn with embarrassment as Capitano simply picked you up with ease and carried you bridal style down the rest of the stairs, and when you thought he was going to set you down, he merely kept walking with you secure in his arms.
“Sorry,” you managed to mumble.
Sadly, you were known for your clumsiness back at the hearth along with other misfortunate things.
Capitano, didn’t acknowledge your apology, but did hold you a little closer as he cam eup to the dining room. The table was long, but there were only two chairs. Capitano’s chair which you figured was seated on the end with a second chair (probably yours) that was seated to his right. At these chairs were two documents.
“Marriage papers,” he said simply as he walked over to them and set you down in the chair before he took his own seat.
You looked down at them, a part of you still couldn’t believe that you were marrying the 1st harbinger, Il Capitano.
Untucking one of your arms from the comfort of the blanket, you grabbed one of the two pens.
“Before you sign, I want to make a few things clear.”
You continued to look down at the documents, and he was not going to have it.
“Look at me when I talk to you.”
His voice held a sort of demanding tone to it as he reached for you, his gloved fingers hooking around your chin as he turned your head to look at him, the claws on his gloves lightly dug into your skin, causing you to wince slightly.
“No harm will come to you here unless you try to betray me. Though, Arlecchino has made it clear that she will deal with you herself if that were to happen.”
You nodded despite his tight grip on your face.
“You will not get in my way, or cause trouble. Do not expect anything from me as I will not expect anything from you.”
You nodded as he spoke, and just as he finished you decided to ask your own question, “will I be doing any sort of work?”
“There is no need for that, just do as a wife does and do not annoy me. And if you plan to leave our home, I expect to be notified before you do so.”
Do not annoy him? With how you keep fainting and even tripping a few minutes ago, you highly doubted that you hadn’t annoyed him already. (You had missed the part where he had already referred the big mansion as “our”…)
“Understand?”
“I understand.”
He let go of your face, as you brought yourself to look at the papers again. And with a steady breath, you began to sign them while taking notice that Capitano’s signature was already on all the parts that needed to be signed.
Seems like he was already prepared to marry you- no. He probably had these papers ready way before you were chosen to be his wife. It was just a matter of whose name would be next to his on these documents. It didn’t have to be you.
“Done.”
You set the pen down as Capitano took the papers and sifted through them.
Nodding, he stood up, papers in hand, and you watched him carefully. Though, surprisingly he stopped to look down at you. You both seemingly caught in a silent stare off, you weren’t sure what he was looking for. Though, everything seemed to stop when he lifted his free hand to his helmet. There was a small click sound and his helmet seemed to loosen, and slowly but surely he had pulled his helmet off.
Your eyes were immediately drawn to his face.
“Stay still,” he said as he leant down, and you froze. His free hand cupped your cheek almost tenderly as he tilted your head back. Panicking on the inside, you were quick to shut your eyes tight, and not even a second later did you feel his lips press against your own.
Though, the kiss was merely a peck before he was pulling away from you. Honestly, the kiss itself was so quick you couldn’t register just how it felt as he was already putting his helmet back on.
“At weddings, the bride and groom kiss, and as you won’t be having the typical wedding ceremony, that should suffice.”
You raised a hand to your face, your fingers gently brushing your lips as Capitano left you in the dining room. (He was mostly going to file the marriage with the officials in order to make the “wedding” legitimate.)
“He says not to expect anything from him, and yet…he still kissed me…even though he didn’t have to.”
You never kissed anyone before. Never dated either. So to still be granted a kiss even despite the fact that you will never have the wedding you always dreamed about, well, it still made you incredibly happy that even your heart managed to skip a beat.
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moonlight-stalker · 2 months ago
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# Dcu x Dp 205
Danny had been Reborn into the Wayne family. The Wayne's belive that Danny has many imaginary friends what they don't know is that they are all ghost that come to play with the Reborn king.
The Wayne family become varied worried when Danny would hold funerals for his imaginary friends at first they thought that Danny was just out growing them and was killing them off. They did not like that he was killing them off especially considering that a lot of them have violent ends some examlps are
Boxy was cushed to death when he was looking for a small box
Cujo who was a guard dog that was put down because the people had no more use for him
Ember McLain who was a rock star and die in a house fire
Johnny 13 and Kitty who died in a motorcycle accident after being run off the road by a angry driver
Nicolai Technus who loved anything and everything electronic died by electrocution
Sidney Poindexter died because he was locked and forgotten in a locker
Skulker who loved to hunt die in an hunting accident
Youngblood who like to play pretend and died becuse he was left in the hot car with his pet
After the funerals they wold see him play and talking to the imaginary friends and around the time he started to give them funerals he also started supposedly started to do things that his friends told him to do some examples
Nocturn who ask for Danny to put them all to sleep luckily they caught him before he could drug them all but he got to Tim and Dick
Evergreen who asked him to grow some plants for him they found out that Danny had managed to sneak off the manors ground find poison ivy bring her back and started having her help plant flowers and other plants.
Clockwork who told Danny that if he could get all the clocks and bring them to Bruce's office he would show him a secret, the secret was the entrance to the Batcave were they would find Danny in. When the Wayne were collecting the clocks they noticed that they all had specific times. They're starting to worry that Danny's friends aren't so imaginary
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milfgyuu · 6 months ago
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Hot Wheels [M] Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader Tags: 15.9k, 90's AU, Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+ Collab: Now That's 90's Summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf (consensual) sex, fingering, low-key breast play, making out (in public), hickey talk, Mingyu is hung (obvs), he's also portrayed as 'taller' than the mc in interactions, mild to moderate language use, gyu's roomies are sloshed at the end (unrelated to smut or main characters), that should cover all the bases...
Fridays at the roller rink are always busy but this is the first official skate-night of Summer Time ‘99 and it’s like opening day all over again. The schools let out just a few hours ago, releasing hoards of teenagers with pent-up energy loose on your small town and there is a line out the door waiting to get into Wheelies to jump-start their next few months of freedom.
Thankfully, the owners prepared and bought a whole new stock of skates so when you inevitably have to help out at the rental counter you’ll have enough to go around without having to argue with some sixteen-year-old about not having their size.
For now, you’re on the floor making sure everything is running smoothly, gliding around in circles with your hands in your pockets. It’s not too packed just yet even though you can see the steady stream of kids filtering through the doors after hitting the ticket booth. Mothers are packing up their little ones knowing it’s time to head out before it picks up pace and the exchange in skaters coming on and off the floor keeps things pretty even for a short while. 
As you pass by the DJ booth for the hundredth time this evening, Vernon pauses to make a goofy face at you while he sets up his equipment. He’s probably the one person who enjoys the summer nights the most because he gets to put on light shows and mix tracks to his heart’s content. 
After letting the floor empty a bit more, you come to a stop in front of him for a quick break, crossing your arms and resting them over the top of his carpeted booth. 
“You gonna play something special for me tonight, Nonnie?”
He rolls his eyes but grins all the same. “You ask me that every night.”
Laying your head on your arms, you look up at him with a pout, “And yet, no romantic song dedications to your favorite Wheelies girl,” you pick your head up and bat your eyes at him, “I’m starting to think you want to break up with me.”
“I promise if I want to end our made-up relationship, I’ll tell you like a real man. Besides,” Vernon laughs and tilts his chin up, looking at something behind you, “I think you’ve been seeing other people. Hotter Wheels if you catch my drift.”
“Heh, I think he hates that name,” you turn, catching sight of Mingyu ducking into the locker rooms to change out and stow his bag, most likely coming straight from hockey practice. Vernon is back to messing with things when you turn, humming, “Lets be real. I only like boys who don’t like me, Nonnie, that’s why you’re the one.”
“What if he’s like you and only goes for girls who don’t want him?”
At that you laugh, preparing to depart as the floor begins to steadily fill again. “Well then, he’ll be lonely forever because I am pretty sure everyone wants him.”
“Including you?”
Very stealthily, you flip him the bird.
Vernon just laughs it off and gets back to work as you skate away, toying with the whistle tied around your neck. You can tell he’s about to get started with his new set when the lights dim and the carpeted walls and floors outside of the polished skate floor start to glow. The little whirls and shapes coming to life with a neon purple hue.
You catch the line piling up at the rental booth but thankfully, it looks like they called in a few extra hands tonight to help there and in concessions which means you get to stay on the floor. Rentals isn’t the worst, that would be birthday party hosting, but you also hate concessions so you don’t put up a fuss when you’re asked to help with skates or in the front on the rare occasion one of the sweet old ladies manning the ticket windows is out.
As more people start piling onto the floor you slow your pace and skate backward for a few feet to check out your surroundings and find teenagers everywhere, loud and wildly unaware of their surroundings. They aren’t too awful this early in the night but you’re sure you’ll have to escort someone off the floor before closing time.
You’ll enjoy your leisurely pace for now and it seems Wonwoo is keen to do the same on the opposite side of the crowd. He weaves in and out of skaters bobbing his head to the music. His glasses are sitting lower on his nose than usual and you’re sure he’s broken them again…or his little brother did and he’s waiting for their exact replacement to come in so he can switch them out without his brother noticing and feeling any more guilty. 
He’s only eight but Wonwoo is his very best friend. They come in on Saturdays together, one of Wonwoo’s only days off, and he teaches his brother to skate for an hour or so before he lets him loose in the arcade and they leave with matching ice cream cones in hand. They even have matching shaggy hairstyles. It’s adorable.
In truth, you’re fond of many of your co-workers but Wonwoo is definitely in your top three for that reason alone. You get along really well with any easy-going personality, it's the same with Vernon. They are both just nice, quiet guys and the exact opposite of the giant shadow hanging over your left shoulder. 
Although, you suppose you get along just fine with him as well.
“Quit checking Wonwoo out, you’re breaking my heart.”
Even before he opened his mouth, the distinct cologne he always wore told you Mingyu was finally on the floor, ready to chase you around for the rest of the night like it was his full-time job. He spent more time trying to charm your pants off than doing what he was actually hired to do but he is so damn charming that he somehow gets away with it.
Besides, this is just a part-time gig for him. Might as well enjoy himself while he’s at it.
When you don’t answer right away, he decides to show off his stupidly impressive hockey maneuvers and he swings around in front of you, casually skating backward without bothering to look behind him. He’s big enough that people can’t miss him and they tend to move out of his path pretty quickly. Now that he sees your face, he’s smirking because you don’t even have it in you to hide your smile tonight. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he coos, “My heart’s healing already.”
You grab his arm to pull his hand away from his chest and he spins around to skate at your side, eyes briefly scanning the floor until they’re back on you. 
“I wasn’t checking him out but believe me… you’re going to be absolutely devastated when Vernon finally admits he’s in love with me. Game over, buddy.”
Mingyu looks wholly unconvinced. “Well, he’s had long enough and you’re going to fall in love with me by the end of the week so…” he pinches his lips together like he’s just delivered the real, honest, awkward truth and you’re battling butterflies in your stomach. 
“End of the week, huh? Are we sure?”
He gets distracted by an increase in volume but for only a moment because Wonwoo is already on it and the quick, sharp sound of his whistle means Mingyu’s full attention is on you again. “That’s what I have circled on my calendar,” he shrugs, “Nothing we can do about it now but let it happen.”
Mingyu’s sense of humor and playful nature are the literal nails in your coffin. You can handle hot with no personality…this one is hot with an overabundance of personality.
You look up at him, probably grinning ear to ear, “Bet you have little hearts doodled all over it with a hot pink gel pen, don’t ya, Hot Wheels?”
He grumbles something under his breath and it makes you snicker. Wonwoo started that one and it seemed to spread throughout the building like wildfire. Now, even the ticket ladies call him Hot Wheels though you’re sure they mean it quite literally whereas Wonwoo was actually just busting Mingyu’s balls about a particularly embarrassing tumble he took.
“Purple gel pen, actually,” he turns and pouts as you both bank around the curve again, “Lost my pink one.”
“Could always steal another one from your little sister.”
At that, he scoffs, the corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, “She threw a Barbie car at my head the last time I visited,” he doesn’t even sound upset…it’s more proud than anything, “She reminds me of you sometimes.”
When you go to respond, a young boy accidentally skates too close to you and his wheels knock into yours throwing you both off balance. You catch him by the arm, meeting his panic-stricken eyes, and wait to hit the floor but you rock back against a hard chest and thank all your lucky stars Mingyu was there to save you. The older you get, the harder the floor feels. 
“I’m so sorry!” The boy exclaims once you’re all steady again, “I’m not good at this! I promise I wasn’t trying to take you out!”
His genuine concern is sweet and you laugh it off. “It’s totally okay and nobody got hurt,” you tell him and he takes a deep breath, “Wanna go around together a few times?”
The boy’s eyes shine and he nods his head rapidly. Mingyu drops back a few paces and you hold out your arm, elbow tucked into your side. “Okay,” you pat your forearm, “Hold on here…there you go…and we’re going to push off at the same time with the same foot. Hey, Gyu,” you call over your shoulder and he comes back up to your side, waiting for your instructions, “Will you skate a little ahead of us so he can watch you?”
“For sure,” Mingyu grins, picking up speed until he’s far enough away to slow his pace again and remain ahead of you.
The kid is a bit wobbly but he’s trying really hard and it makes you smile. You remember when you first learned to skate and how intimidating the rink was though you were around eight and he looks to be around fourteen. There wasn’t a floor full of bigger, faster kids to compete with though so you think maybe you got off easier.
“You’re doing great,” you encourage him, “Watch him go around the curve to get a better idea of how to steer yourself.”
Mingyu banks it beautifully, as usual. It’s surprising to most people that someone his size could skate so fluidly especially after learning that he only started playing hockey in his early teens. It was just something he had a natural talent for and trading out blades for wheels hadn’t altered his ability to move with grace whatsoever.
You work through the turn together, a little less smoothly, but you make it around and he lets out a short laugh. “He makes it look so easy.”
“Yeah, well he’s had lots and lots of practice and likes to show off.”
Your eyes settle on Mingyu again and as if he can sense you watching, he turns over his shoulder and winks which is not solely witnessed by you because the kid chuckles, following through the next curve with more confidence. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s kinda cool.”
The question catches you off guard and you laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Not my boyfriend but yeah…I guess he’s kinda cool.”
He looks up at you…almost mischievously you’d think, if you knew him better. “I think he wants to be your boyfriend,” he snickers, “He keeps looking at you.”
You huff out a laugh, placing your hand over his before swinging you both into a stop out of the way. “I’m starting to think this is all a ruse and he’s paying you to put in a good word.”
The kid laughs and shakes his head, “No, I’m just nosey and a really lousy skater,” he says, looking up at Mingyu who’s come over and stopped next to you, “Thanks a lot for helping me out,” he looks a little sheepish, hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, “There is this girl at school I like and she’s a figure skater. She asked me out on a date at the ice rink when she comes back from vacation with her family in two weeks and I said yes even though I’m probably going to make a fool of myself. Figured I should start practicing now and falling on wheels is less intimidating than falling with knives on my feet.”
You laugh softly and Mingyu grins, shaking his head. “I admire your dedication to getting the girl, kid. Listen, I coach a youth hockey league at the ice rink down the road and have a free hour a few days a week that I use to practice myself. I’d be happy to teach you if you want.”
The boy’s eyes light up. “That would be so cool!”
Mingyu chuckles, “Alright, awesome. Are one of your parents here with you? I can go talk to them and give them my information.”
“Yeah! My grandma is sitting over there,” he points to the corner where you both make out an older woman sitting alone with a book in hand, surrounded by way too many boisterous young people. 
You meet Mingyu’s eyes and both make a face. “Yikes, okay, let’s go save grandma.”
The boy thanks you again and starts to merge back into the flow of skaters as Mingyu smiles at you, pushing off with a ‘Don’t miss me too much’ and a stupid kissy face. 
His grin is wild and gorgeous when you wiggle your fingers and whisper, “Bye, lover boy.”
Vernon is smiling at you when you reach his booth and you hop up onto the small ledge that allows a good look at the floor as a whole while also giving your legs a needed break. He’s playing one is his 80’s to 90’s pop mixes and tweaking the rotating lights that dance over the skaters until they start changing colors, neon polka dots as far as the eye can see. 
There is a steady exchange of kids coming on and off the floor. Most of the early group heading into the arcade or bombarding the concessions counter while the later crowd takes their place. In between all that, you catch sight of Mingyu speaking with the boy and his Grandma. You don’t even realize that you’re unabashedly smiling at the scene, thinking about how kind and attentive he is when he’s listening. The way he leans in and pulls back, grinning and laughing. 
“Still think you’re not into him?” Vernon says over your shoulder, laughing when you startle.
You purse your lips, eyes wandering back over. “I’m simply admiring his social aptitude,” you flick your eyes back up to Vernon and grin, “Why? Is it making you jealous darling?”
He smirks, “Not yet. Gonna have to try harder.”
“Ugh,” you swoon, hand over your heart, “I love it when you play hard to get.”
Vernon nods his head laughing, “Yeahhhh, I know you do.” Then he notices you’ve got your eye on an issue that needs handling and reaches out to pat the top of your head, “Two more hours and they all have to go home to be someone else’s responsibility. I’ll throw in some of your favorite jams.”
Ten o’clock couldn’t come soon enough but you appreciate his offer and toss out a few songs for consideration though he’s pretty familiar with your tastes. You step back down onto the floor and blow Vernon a kiss when you immediate recognzie the song he’s jumped into…just for you.
 “You really are the best. Check on you in a bit, undercover lover.”
He throws up a peace sign and you cut across the floor to ask a couple of kids who were just blowing and popping bubbles to go spit out their gum as it’s clearly stated that it's not allowed on the floor. They don’t love your request and start to argue but Mingyu sneaks up behind you again and dazzles them with a smile. Just like that, the two young girls start giggling and falling all over themselves to do exactly as asked…all because the pretty guy said ‘Please’. 
It’s comical, honestly. 
Mingyu is smirking when he rolls along beside you, bending at the waist to peek up at your face because it’s aimed at the floor as you try to school your features. He’s so irritatingly flirtatious and you’re too quickly playing into his hand tonight. You’re usually better than this, holding out well until you’re pulling out of the parking lot. 
“Oh, yeah,” he intones, “Tonight is definitely the night. You’re giving in. You can’t resist me any longer. It was bound to happen. You’re still smiling! I can see it!”
Laughing, you pull your head up and give him a look that you would have loved to be firm but it’s not in the slightest. How can you be serious when he is so not serious? “Don’t you dare,” you warn with a loose laugh tacked on at the end, “I told you, we’re not going on a date.”
Mingyu shrugs, “So, movies tomorrow night?”
“Don’t you work tomorrow?”
He bats his eyes with a saccharine smile, “I love that you know my schedule by heart,” he ignores your eye roll, “Wonu’s covering my shift since he owed me one and also because he’s a true romantic. He’s rooting for us and we can’t disappoint him.”
“Well, I suppose if it’s what Wonwoo wants…” you look up at him, eyes glittering with excitement, “When are you picking me up?”
For as calm and cool as Mingyu keeps it on the outside, he’s buzzing on the inside because he’s been toying around with the idea of taking you out forever. And he’s asked…more than once…but you’ve kept him on his toes and he’s enjoyed the playing the game but he’s elated that you’re finally saying yes.
He tries to school is face but he’s still beaming as he tries to casually say, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Seven?” you snicker, “Isn’t that a little late to get started? You keeping me out all night?”
He just shrugs, grinning. “Maybe.”
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Mingyu shows up nearly twenty minutes early and you can see his car outside your condo. He doesn’t make a move to get out and it’s amusing to watch as he nervously drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few beats before reaching for the door like he’s going to get out, and then shaking his head before resuming the fidgeting. It’s also a relief to know he’s feeling the same jitters you are. 
The thought crossed your mind to pop your head out to wave him inside but he might be giving himself a pep-talk and you’re still contemplating your outfit. 
The movie theater is always so cold. You debated the pros and cons of wearing something short-sleeved because on one hand, if you’re cold it might prompt your date to keep you warm but on the other hand, if he didn’t, you’d be freezing the whole time. 
You could bring a jacket, but that’s an extra thing to carry. 
Digging through your closet, you pull out a fuzzy black long-sleeved sweater. You hold it out, admiring the way it’s cropped a little shorter in the front, and then turn back to the mirror, holding it up to your chest. It would look cute with the Levi’s you’re wearing…decisions, decisions.
A car horn beeps and you peer out of your window seeing Mingyu rigid behind the wheel. You laugh, thinking he probably did not mean to do it and is embarrassed at having accidentally made too much noise. That’s pretty obvious by the way he’s looking around, paranoid and frustrated. It’s actually super cute and you’re lingering by the window now just admiring him from afar without care
Until you see Mingyu cut the engine and get out of the car. Then the panic sets in because you’re still not ready and well…it’s the first time he’s seeing you outside of work and not in uniform. You want him to be wowed and are probably still taking too long to get moving considering how brisk of a stride you know his to be. He’ll be here any second.
You scramble to pull on the sweater in your hands and run into the bathroom to grab your gold hoops, fix your hair, and check your makeup one last time. Your heart is racing but you smile at your reflection. He sees you all the time at work looking not even half as done-up as you are right now and thinks you’re a solid 10, so there isn’t really any doubt he’ll be pleased. Then the doorbell rings. 
A few deep breaths to calm your nerves comes first. When you open the door, Mingyu’s mouth is fixed like he had a line locked and loaded but when he sees you, he chokes on the words. He’s so flustered that he stumbles back a step, laughing at himself. “Oh, you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”
That lights you up from the inside out and brings your confidence back around full circle.
“Have I ever made things easy for you?” you snicker, grabbing your purse off the hook by the door, “I think you like a challenge.”
“Nah, I just like you,” he smirks, tongue poking the end of his pointed canine as he watches you close and lock the door, trying his hardest to be respectful, “You look really good. Have I said that yet?”
Stashing your keys in your purse, you turn and grin up at him. “You alluded to it but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it out loud.”
Always playing and teasing and flirting. It’s almost too much for you both to bear at this point. 
“I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” he says softly but he reaches toward you, slipping his hand just behind your hip to pull you closer with a bold, sharp tug. Startled, you bump right into Mingyu’s chest and look up at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a minute and then tilts his head back, sighing into the sky above. He’s mostly amused when he looks back at you.
“You look incredible…and we should get in the car before I ruin the illusion of me being a gentleman.”
“That image has been splintering for a while but I don’t think I’ll mind if a manner or two slips,” you tease as you pull apart, taking the time to look him up and down…
Light-washed jeans, crisp white t-shirt, open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders…”You look really good too,” you murmur in appreciation.
He’s about to sweating straight through his shirt if you keep looking at him like that.
“...yep…time to go,” he mumbles, pinching is lips together as he grabs your hand. He pulls you toward the parking lot which isn’t far, and opens the door for you to slip into his passenger seat. He doesn’t let go until you’re settled and takes it a touch further when he reaches in and grabs the seatbelt before you. His hand purposely grazes against the exposed skin between your pants and top as he buckles you in and you let out the breath you were holding the second he closes your door.
It’s getting more difficult to play hard-to-get by the millisecond but you’re willing to give in first if your reward is Mingyu breaking down bit by bit right in front of you. 
You bite your lip to keep from giggling when he quickly rounds the car and settles into his seat next to you. He’s still shaking his head, quietly laughing at himself for getting so easily worked up. He turns over the engine, shifting into drive, and peers over at you with an air of disbelief. 
“I’m starting to think we’re gonna have to sit in separate rows at this rate.”
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Thankfully, the tension melts into easy banter and conversation on the ride to the theater. Mingyu entertains you with stories about his family and asks after yours, specifically your beloved niece whom he loves hearing about. He lets you toy around with his radio and blare some Spice Girls song that neither of you sings along to with the correct pitch…or words. It’s a blast either way.
Bold flirtation aside, Mingyu has always been a gentleman where it counts.
When you arrive at the movie theater, he opens all the doors, holds your hand every chance he gets, pays for your tickets and snacks despite your protesting, and lets you choose where to sit. The theater isn’t very full, though the movie you both decided on has been out for a while so it’s not all that surprising to see so many open seats. There are a few people scattered here and there and you don’t particularly love sitting next to others if you can avoid it. 
That leaves the very front or the very back. 
You glance over your shoulder at Mingyu, patiently waiting for you to decide, “You really don’t care?” 
He shakes his head again with a soft smile and you sigh looking back at the open seats, “I don’t like being super close…are you okay with sitting up top?”
Mingyu’s eyes scan the very empty top rows and widen like he hadn’t actually realized how secluded they were until just now. “Totally cool,” he manages after a moment, “Lead the way.”
“Oh boy,” you whisper to yourself, turning to make your way up the stairs. You have to focus ahead and calculate the distance of each step so you don’t screw up and trip because that would be awfully embarassing. It’s dark, cold, and quiet, and there is a huge gap between the section you’re headed toward and the next closest couple sitting in the middle. 
The very last row was almost too intimidating as if it somehow was the designated spot reserved for horny, depraved teenagers, and you were mid-twenty adults…so you stopped once you hit the second to last row and cut in a few seats before deciding that sitting in the middle was also weird so you dropped into the fourth seat from the aisle and forced yourself to stay put. 
PIcking a seat and sticking with it has never been so daunting before.
Mingyu doesn’t say anything at all about your choice, much to your relief. If he cracked a joke about it, you think you might just burst at the seams. He just sits down in the seat next to you folding his very large frame into the too-tight space between the armrests. You’re both quiet as the lights dim and the previews start rolling but you can still feel him wiggling and adjusting himself next to you.
Your eyes meet when he accidentally bumps your arm and you smile at the fact that he is genuinely embarrassed, for no reason at all other than unintentionally taking up extra space. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t remember the seats feeling this cramped.”
“It’s really okay,” you turn, tucking his elbow safely into his side as you lift the armrest between you to give him more room, “We can share.”
“Are you sure?” his eyes seek yours again in the darkness, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
You quietly snicker at his worry when he was the one being so brazen with your proximity earlier. At the same time, you can appreciate his consideration and reassure him with a gentle smile. “I really don’t mind…the extra body heat is appreciated.”
You can feel the moment Mingyu lets the tension flow out of his body. His shoulders relax until your arms touch lightly, his legs spread a little further apart as he sinks into his seat, firm thigh now pressed to the outside of your own. He’s warm and his cologne, as usual, is so rich and alluring that you know you’re going to be fighting the urge to mold yourself to his side for the next hour and a half. 
Surprisingly, the movie isn’t half bad even though it was one you chose because every other film out was either super sad or overtly romantic and neither genre felt like a good fit for a first date. ‘Black Mask’ had a decent balance of action scenes and suspense that pretty easily kept your eyes on the screen, at least for a little while, sharing sour gummy worms and a soda between the two of you. 
Your attention began to wane after the third time you bumped hands with Mingyu and it was lost entirely when he decided to simply hold your hand instead. Movie plot gone in an instant.
Instead of the screen, your eyes fall to your joined hands resting in his lap. They climb up to his chest, slowly rising and falling with each measured breath. Carefully, you let them slide higher, admiring the shadows projected over his throat and jaw. Higher to admire his handsome face. Higher again, just to get a little more of him, and when you get there, you find him staring back.
Neither of you shy away this time. Mingyu nervously licks his lips and his eyes flit down to yours, only for a second, just to reassure himself that you’re both on the same wavelength even though the chemistry between you has always been pretty clear. He still hesitates before he leans closer but you’re done waiting and choose to kiss him first. 
It’s soft, brief, and when you part, you can see the smile on his handsome face and it brings the butterflies in your stomach back to life all over again. He cups your cheek and pulls you back into another kiss, and then another, and another. A million times you’d thought about kissing Mingyu and this was still far better than any you’d imagined thus far.  
Actually kissing him highlights the small details you were missing. The bits of it that are unique and a part of him only. It’s the way his thumb strokes against your cheek, how he tilts his face and changes his angle so fluidly that you follow him like it’s completely natural, the tender way he’s slow to let go of your bottom lip and how he kisses it afterward. 
It’s certainly not your first kiss or even the first time you’ve made out with someone at the movies, but this feels entirely new. Mingyu is not some hopped up, horny kid. He takes his time with you, he’s gentle, patient. It’s not sloppy or rushed. He isn’t trying to clumsily cop a feel the whole time, though, you think you’d probably let him and that he wouldn’t fumble around at all. It feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t.
You hope that you feel natural to him too.
He pulls back with a slow hum of appreciation and that’s good enough for you.. When your eyes meet, you’re both smiling, and Mingyu takes that as his good sign. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side until he feels your body relax against his and you finish the movie just like that. 
Well, you’re both looking at the screen but you’re more focused on the way he continues to kiss your hair every few minutes and he’s locked on to the feeling of your nails gently drawing a line up and down his thigh. 
Eventually, the lights come on and you’re a little slow to untangle as the rest of the theater clears out. It’s entirely empty by the time either of you hit the stairs. 
“Soooo,” Mingyu hums, trailing behind you half a step, “Thoughts…opinions…? On the movie, of course.”
You laugh without turning around and nod your head, “Right…the movie, yeah. Just as the trailer promised,” you focus on your feet moving a step at a time and not tripping, “Perfectly executed action sequences.”
He grins to himself, tucking his chin into his chest. “I’m glad it lived up to all the hype,” he balances his weight on one foot before taking the next step, “Nothing worse than all that anticipation ending in disappointment.”
You peer over your shoulder at him, smiling coyly, “Oh, no disappointment here. I’m sure i’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.”
He huffs out a laugh, “Are we talking about the movie or the kiss?”
“What kiss?” you smirk, quickly turning around to hurry down the rest of the steps but he’s right behind you the whole way.
Just as you whip around the corner and into the dim hallway that leads to the exit, Mingyu catches you around the waist and pins you up against the wall. You can feel his heart thudding under your palms, the thrill of excitement hardly contained in his chest as his lips crash into yours. 
Disappointment is so very far from your realm of feeling at the moment. Any expectation you had, which admittedly was already pretty high, was shattered and elevated yet another level each time his tongue danced across the seam of your lips or when his hands made another pass over your body.
From the beginning, you theorized that Mingyu was more than just a smooth talker. You had him pegged as a man with follow-through and you’re simply rolling in it, knowing you were right, and now you’re experiencing it for yourself which makes things that much more gratifying. 
Mingyu was a certified lover boy. Called and confirmed it.
The very best part, you think to yourself as you feel him grin against your lips, is that he’s yours…or at least, he wants to be. You don’t have to let him know he’s already won.
He’s still smiling when you slide your hands over his arms, pointedly squeezing the ample muscle there, and he finishes you off with a few final, fluttering kisses. 
When your eyes meet, there is a buzz of nervous laughter and Mingyu again asks, “So, the movie or the kiss?”
Your gaze drifts back down to his mouth and your stomach twists torturously when his knowing smirk reveals a prettily pointed canine. The same that’s bitten into your bottom lip a few times already this evening. You look back up and narrow your eyes playfully, “I don’t recall any kissi-”
He leans back down, slotting his lips against yours and the second he so much as breathes the door at the end of the hall clicks open and you hear two voices, likely the staff coming to clean the theater, and here you two delinquints are still splattered against the wall playing tonsil hockey. 
Mingyu freezes and your eyes are wide as saucers. “Go, go around the other way!”
You have to slip out from under his frame and drag him a few feet before his mind catches up and you’re both scrambling back across the theater to the exit on the opposite side. As quietly as you can, you peek out of the small window to make sure the coast is clear and pop the door open for you both to come tumbling out. 
The wide corridor outside the theater is mercifully empty but the adrenaline in your bodies’ leaves you jogging toward the side exit, laughter bubbling up and out into the open space around you. It’s all so silly and exhilarating, and when Mingyu grabs your hand, pulling you through the doors out into that warm summer air, you’re sure you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so…alive. 
Or maybe there is just something about the moon and stars, and the way their enchanting glow seems to make everything in their wake just a little more beautiful. He’s one of those things - bright, beautiful, feathered and soft around the edges. 
You’ve stopped to catch your breath but it remains trapped in your chest the longer you look at him. It’s suddenly a little heavy, this crush of yours, weighed down by impression of his hands on your hips, your face, the small of your back. Flirting and teasing was easy. Agreeing to finally go out with him was easy. Realizing the potential for more was real and standing in front of you was a shock to your system because you’re uncovering very quickly how much you want that with him.
“We should definitely go to dairy queen.”
It takes a minute to process his words and then with a little shake, you lift your head to find Mingyu smiling back down at you. “Feels like the movie might have left you with a lot to think about and nothing helps me sort through my head quite like ice cream.”
You cock your head to the side, the tension in your chest evaporating just like that.
“Have you always this charming?”
“When I put in the extra effort, which is only for you, sure,” he chuckles, using your joined hands to pull you a little closer as you walk alongside eachother through the parking lot, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea though.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoff, bumping into his arm with your shoulder, “Everyone loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”
His tongue pokes into his cheek, rolling his eyes skyward, “You missed the guy I had to escort out of the rink a couple weeks ago who took a few swings at me in the parking lot. Pretty sure he was not enthralled by my dazzling smile and strapping good looks.”
“One person…that’s all you got?”
Reaching his car, Mingyu opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated and looking up at him expectantly. He licks his lips and smirks, “Buckle up, you’re in for a ride.”
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After grabbing ice cream, you decided making your date drive over to the shore was favorable to sitting on the sticky red tables outside the DQ, so instead, you’re sitting side by side on a small gym towel he miraculously had in his trunk, eating your deserts and swapping stories to the tune of the gentle waves crashing ashore. 
So far, you’ve learned that the sole reason Mingyu got into hockey in the first place was because he was in constant trouble as a kid…in school, at home, or literally anywhere else he happened to be. His poor mother tried to put him in every sport and hobby she could think of to keep him busy and out of trouble but baseball wasn’t a fit, basketball ended in another fist fight and suspension, football benched a few and landed one kid in the hospital, and any form of martial arts was out of the question. 
Finally, she found an ad in the newspaper for boy’s hockey team tryouts and the rest was history. You can clearly hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke about his original coach and his teammates. How it was touch and go from the start but no matter how much hot water he found himself in, they wouldn’t quit on him. When he realized that, he started pouring all of his pent up energy into the game and it changed him in all the best ways. It’s the whole reason he coaches today…to be someone who can make a positive change in a kid’s life the way his coach did for him.
Honestly, it’s hard to imagine Mingyu as anything other than the kind, gentle, playful guy you know him to be but everyone grows and changes. He still has a wild sort of glint in his eyes at times that lead you to believe every word he’s said about his younger years. 
The sea breeze is crisp and almost a little chilly despite the warm air it mixes with so you push a little closer into Mingyu’s side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Cold?”
“A bit,” you roll your head toward him, resting it against the crook of his shoulder, “Kinda just wanted to be close to you again…despite your delinquent past, I think I like you a little.”
“A little?” he smirks, eyes darting to your mouth briefly, “I think you like me a lot.”
Scrunching your nose, you make a face at him and he tosses his head back and laughs. 
“If you don’t admit it soon I’m going to have to make a huge, probably embarrassing,  for you, romantic gesture,” he counters, looking very half-serious, “A big old fashioned declaration of love…in public…loudly.”
“You’re still a little shit, aren’t you?”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving the reformed bad boy thing.” He’s spot on because Mingyu is the exact kind of guy you would have had a crush on back then too. 
You let out a long sigh and pick your head up, leaning to the side to bury your now-empty cup in the sand so it doesn’t blow away just like Mingyu had on his side. In the process, Mingyu slips his arm a little lower on your back, his hand curled around your hip to keep you balanced. You love every single point of contact so you fall right back into his side when you sit up again.
“To be fair, I think you’re only partly reformed,” more smirking, “Mhm, that’s exactly what I mean,” you hum in amusement, “Listen, I’ll give in…just a little…and admit that there are a lot of things I love about you..”
“I’m listening,” he purrs, ready for the boost in confidence you’re surely about to give him. Anything that could even vaguely resemble a compliment would send him over the moon coming from you. 
“I love the way…you genuinely enjoy helping people,” you start quietly, soothing the subtle nerves beginning to tingle in your fingertips, “I love that you put so much time and effort into coaching your kids and how much you love talking about them…how you’ll roll your eyes and shake your head telling me stories about them and yet you always finish with a smile because ‘they’re a handful but they’re good kids’”
Mingyu snorts softly and you knowingly ask, “There’s lots of little Mingyu’s on your team, aren’t there?”
He nods slowly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “Ohhh yeahhh,” he breathes out with a light chuckle, “I understand now why my coach made me run drills until I dropped. I’ve got a couple that have already outshined my reputation at their age and some days it’s a battle of wills but they’ve come along way,” he ducks his head, grinning, “Hoping they’re the extent of my karma and it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass when I have kids one day.”
He makes a face right after he says it and looks down at you almost apologetically, “Was that weird to say on a first date? I feel like that’s something you’re supposed to avoid but you’re easy to talk to and words just fall out of my mouth sometimes.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” you laugh, quirking an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s a first date but we’re not strangers, besides, I’ve always just assumed you were a family kind of guy. You talk about yours all the time, super close with your little sister, and from all i’ve witnessed, you’re just kinda great with kids in general,” you shrug, easing his worry, “I promise, it’s not a shock to me that you’d want your own and I’ll save you the torture of wondering whether to ask or not…yes, I’d like to have kids someday. Someday farrrrr away in the future.”
“Oh, good,” he chuckles, “Me too...lightyears away.”
It’s not on either of your radars currently but it’s nice to know that you have common goals for the future. It leaves a brief pause in the conversation, though not an uncomfortable one. Just a quiet moment to soak things in. 
First date, first kiss(es), and it’s all going…perfectly. 
It’s one thing to flirt and banter with a cute co-worker but taking the leap and going on a date together is a whole different game. There are very real feelings on both sides of the court and the potential for something real and permanent is so palpable you can feel it pushing you closer to one another. Leap again. Put yourself out there and trust the other will catch you.
Mingyu breaks the silence first and you feel his fingers twitch against your back. 
“I really like you,” he says steadily, like that was the easy part, “I think you’re beautiful inside and out, stop laughing i’m being serious,” he grins and you try to reel it in for his sake, “My first day on the job I was blatantly called out and laughed at by Wonwoo after he caught me spacing out and staring at you for the third time…I don’t think I even made it an hour into my shift before I was hooked.”
“Oh, I thought you were being serious?” you grin.
“Shhhh,” he counters, “I’m not done.”
“Where was I? Oh yeah…you’re a good friend and a good person, and I like having you in my life,” he says softly, picking up your hand and pulling it into his lap, “I want to bring you home to meet my family so my mom can drag out the photo albums the way she’s always joked about doing while my sister spends the whole time telling you embarrassing things about me. They would like like you a lot. The boys on my team already like you.”
“Oh?”
He laughs, “Oh yeah, they’re always in my business and I made the mistake of bringing you up at a practice once so you’re a regular topic of discussion. I should have known I was doomed from then on and they’re brutal sometimes. One kid called me a loser because he’s fourteen and has a girlfriend and I don’t.”
“Is that how you’re asking me out? Trying to get the sympathy vote because you’re getting picked on by a bunch of kids?” you smirk.
“Maybe…is it working?” he asks, gaze dipping to your mouth for the millionth time tonight.
“I don’t know yet,” you inch a little closer, “Maybe you should try softening me up a little more before you ask again.”
He pauses, hovering just a breadth away from your face and his open mouth pulls into a sly grin, “By any means necessary?”
“Do what you have to do I suppos-”
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“Niiccceee hickey.”
You slap a hand over the mark you swore you’d covered well enough with concealor, apparently not, and whip your head in Vernon’s direction. “Can you not announce it loud enough for everyone to hear?”
Vernon glances side to side. “There is literally no one except us in here and that thing announced itself.”
“What thing?” 
Wonwoo comes in and drops his bag on the wooden bench, pulling out his uniform top to shrug over his shoulders. His glasses sit askew on his face and you really hope he’s got good insurance because they’re always in awful shape. 
You turn and press your forehead against the cool metal of your locker door and Vernon chuckles, stowing his things noisely. “The physical evidence to prove that her date went abundantly well.”
Wonwoo smirks, walking closer to pry your hand away from your neck. He whistles. “Damn, Mingyu’s a biter…not surprised. Good luck hiding that thing - it’s going to be with you for a while.”
“Ok. Hickey expert. Thanks for your input,” you grumble.
He shrugs. “We all have interests and hobbies, and you’re welcome.”
You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning back against your locker with a pout. “I’m kinda nervous that we’re working together tonight for the first time since we went out. Do you think it will be weird?” 
Vernon makes a goofy face. “Why would it be weird? I thought you said everything went well and you’re like, dating now? Did something happen?”
“No, everything was great,” you slump down a little further, “Like…too great. I’m trying not to jinx things or be weird. Are we too old to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that a thing for adults? Or did we grow out of that after high school?”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, fixing the notch on his belt, “No, we’re not too old for that. He’s your boyfriend. You’re his girlfriend. Simple.”
“Is it?” you reply with a unintentional snap that doesn’t phase either of them.
Vernon sits on the bench in front of you and stretches his back out, groaning like an old man. “Yes, simple. You like him and he likes you, and you have fun together. I fail to see the problem.”
“Yeah, that’s like, the opposite of a problem,” Wonwoo agrees, “Besides…being left alone in the rink after hours sounds mighty convenient if you ask me.”
Snapping your jaw shut, your eyes widen, “What exactly are you suggesting?”
Wonwoo smirks, “I’m not suggesting anything but an opportunist would use their imagination.”
Both you and Vernon peg Wonwoo with a suspicious stare.
“With all due respect,” you say slowly, your eyebrow steadily raising with each word, “I didn’t think you rolled like that.”
“Neither did I,” Vernon adds, equally intrigued.
“You’re kind of a freak, aren’t you?”
“Who’s a freak?”
All three of you startle and whirl around to see Mingyu coming through the door. His hair is wet, likely freshly showered after hockey practice, and he’s looking at each of you with a clueless grin. 
“Nothing and no one!” you reply with a grin, already floating toward the hunk in the doorway, “Hi.”
“Hi,” he grins down at you, “I see you and I got stuck closing tonight.” 
You swallow down the knot in your throat and hold up a middle finger behind your back directed at Vernon and Wonwoo’s snickering. 
“Yep,” you bounce on your toes, “Just you and I…closing everything down…together…tonight.”
Mingyu’s lips pinch together to hold in a laugh. You were always so bold and confident when it came to teasing him and now, he can tell you’re having to make a great effort to hold it all together. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he chooses, satisfied when your eyes widen just a touch, “I think Jim’s looking for you by the way. If you’re done getting-” 
“Yes,” you squeeze his arms and then move past him at lightening speed, rushing out the door. 
Mingyu just stands there and laughs quietly before looking up to see the grin on Vernon and Wonwoo’s faces. “Alright, how much did she tell you?”
“Didn’t have to tell us much at all.”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “The bite marks you left told us everything we needed to know.”
Mingyu’s eyes drop to the floor as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’s glad the ones you left on him are covered by his collar because he just barely got away with blaming it on equipment mishandling when one of the older boys in his youth league pointed one out with a mischievous laugh.
Vernon claps a hand over his shoulder on his way out the door causing Mingyu to look back up again. “Happy for you, dude. She’s a good one.”
Mingyu smiles softly, “Thanks, man.”
When he leaves, Mingyu pushes further into the room and starts getting himself situated, glancing over at Wonwoo every now and then like he’s waiting for him to say something.
“I can feel you staring,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes now glued to his Game Boy Pocket as he tries to save his progress from earlier.
Mingyu shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, pushing his bag into his locker. 
Wonwoo puts his game down and looks up. “Whaddaya want, Hot Wheels?”
He pauses, making a face at the nickname, and then carefully asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it for me to-”
“Make a move tonight?”
Mingyu’s mouth pops open. “Oh,” he blinks, “You read minds too?”
Wonwoo sighs and leans back a touch, both hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath him. “To be fair, that’s exactly what I’d be thinking about if I were in your position. Empty building…gorgeous girlfriend…”
Mingyu scoffs, “Alright, easy…”
He gets a smirk in return and Wonwoo stands, stretching his long limbs. “I’m not wrong and also not interested in your girl so relax,” he leans down and tugs on the laces of his skates and then straightens out, “You both think too much. Just be normal. Do the same lovey dovey, flirty shit you always do and see how the night goes.”
“You’re kind of good at this,” Mingyu compliments, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, “What do you get up to when you’re off the clock and not playing big brother of the year?”
Nearing the door, Wonwoo just turns over his shoulder and tosses Mingyu a wink.
He’s handed out enough advice for one night.
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You were still jittery when Mingyu joined you out on the floor but falling into the same routine was pretty simple, just like Vernon and Wonwoo said, and it took loads of anxious tension off your shoulders. If anything, Mingyu was more playful with his teasing and a little more bold with his physical affection when others weren’t paying attention. 
It was like a game of how flustered he could make you without getting in trouble for fooling around on the job. The floor was crowded which simply meant he got to stay a little closer to you without looking suspicious which allowed him to find out how fun it was to pull you around by the belt loops of your pants. 
He loved the little noise of surprise you let out every time he snuck up behind you, hooking his finger through the loop to tug you back against his chest where he pretended to tell you something important. Like he was just trying to talk to you over the sound of the music when he had nothing but more teasing to whisper in your ear. 
The hours flew by unnoticed and before long, you were bidding your last goodbyes to the rest of the staff having finished their own cleaning and closing duties. 
Mingyu went into the office to toy with the audio system after you asked to throw something on just so it wasn’t silent in the big dark building while you followed Vernon and Wonwoo to the doors to lock up after them. 
Vernon shifts his bag on his shoulder and cuts a sideways glance in your direction. “You gonna be okay?”
You shrug, touched and confused he’d asked. “Yeah, I’ve closed up a million times. All good.”
Wonwoo pats the top of your head like a puppy. They both have a habit of that.
“He meant, are you gonna be okay here alone with Mingyu? Are you comfortable with us leaving - not that I think he’d ever do something to hurt or upset you…I’d kill him and he knows it…but you give us the word and we’ll stay.”
“Oh,” you blink and wave your hands dismissively, “No, we’re good! I was just worried about being a loser earlier but we’re totally fine!”
“We thought so,” Vernon grins, pushing the glass door open, “Just checking.”
It’s sweet and embarrassing that they’d thought to ask and you tell them as much as you gently push Vernon through the doorway. “Thought for a minute you were finally ready to confess,” you joke, fake pout on your lips and all, “I’ll drop him like a hot potato if you ask, Nonnie.”
Wonwoo follows him out and laughs, “You’re full of shit but I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment. By the way, if you find yourself in need…Jihoon keeps condoms in his locker.”
You slap a hand over your mouth, covering your shocked laughter. “First of all, mind your business and second, what the hell?!”
Vernon shrugs, “Man likes to be prepared I guess!”
….Line cooks are one of a kind. Truly.
You’re shaking your head as they wave goodbye and walk off toward Wonwoo’s car as it must have been his turn to carpool. Pulling the doors shut, you carefully lock each one and double check them before turning on your heel and then the music cuts on over the speakers. It’s not crazy loud but enough to keep the odd sounds that accompany a big old building from rattling in your ears. 
Mingyu pops his head out of the office when you round the corner and you cock your head in question, “Beastie Boys?”
“Couldn’t get the discs to work so radio it is,” he shrugs, “I can find something else if you want.”
You shake your head, brushing past his shoulder into the small office to sit down and reconcile the financials for the night. “I’m not picky. Did you already grab the bags from the registers?”
He nods, “Yep, everything’s there and Jim left the keys for the safe in the desk,” Mingyu squeezes your shoulders when you sit down and you smile up at him. “I’m going to knock out the kitchen and rental walk-throughs while you count if that’s okay? After that we will just have shut down the arcade and I can take out the left over trash bags.”
“That would be amazing,” you tell him, head still cushioned against the office chair as you smile lazily up at him, “I just love a man that knows how to take charge and get the job done.”
He immediately chokes out a laugh and turns on his heel muttering something about how ‘he’s not going to get anything done if you keep that up’ as he walks away.
It takes another full minute to bring the task at hand back into focus and you have to consciously fight off the intrusive inappropriate thoughts clouding your brain when it’s supposed to be crunching numbers. You even have to recount a few bags because the image of Mingyu sitting you on the desk you’re working at to do dirty things with you keeps popping into your head and it’s getting harder and harder to focus. After probably twice the amount of time it usually takes you to do the financials, you’re finally done and locking the safe when Mingyu returns. 
“Oh, hey,” you perk up when you notice him in the doorway, “Ready to go do the arcade?”
“Already done,” he snickers, “I came back after walk-throughs and caught you cursing and restarting your counts so I just went ahead and finished up the list.”
“Oh!” you shift on your feet, “...guess we’re all done then.”
Mingyu crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame looking extra swoon-worthy. Not a single poster of your favorite 80s and 90s heartthrobs plastered to the walls of your old bedroom held a candle to the picture in front of you and he knows it. 
“You sound disappointed. I’m sure we could find other things to do if you wanna stay a little longer,” his eyes shift over to the audio system, still playing a mix of alternative and pop hits, and fixes his eyes back on you, “Ever considered making out with someone in an empty skating rink with No Doubt playing over the speakers?”
“Can’t say I have. What about you?”
Mingyu grins, shifting his weight to tower over you, “Thought just now crossed my mind.”
He slides one hand beneath your jaw and the other over your hip, slotting his lips against yours as he walks you back until you bump into the desk behind you. After teasing you with your belt loops all night, you decide to return the favor, licking at the seam of his lips as you hook your fingers in his front loops and pull him closer. He laughs against your lips and pulls back to meet your eyes. “That’s my move.”
“I liked it, so I think I’ll steal it,” you smirk, tugging at the loops still.
“We should probably get our things and head out before I do something stupid and incredibly irresponsible,” he chuckles though there is a very real edge to his tone like he’s trying hard to behave himself right now.
“What kind of stupid and irresponsible things?” you test him, releasing his belt loops to hook your index finger into the waist band of his pants instead, “I might be interested.”
The hand on your hip squeezes and he bites out a laugh. “Who’s the delinquent now?”
“Still you, but I recounted those bags because I kept getting interrupted by steamy office fantasies popping into my head so if you’d rather take me home before we make questionable decisions, we should probably leave now.”
He groans, torn between having to wait or giving in and having you right here, right now. The cons would be that it’s A.) your work place, B.) it’s not the cleanest place to hook up, and C.) he has to wait when his body is begging him otherwise.
As luck has it, you decide for him.
“Can we go to your place? My roommate is home tonight and she’s got hard rules against hooking up when the other is home. She doesn’t even really like when I have friends over but her name is on the lease so I don’t argue much.”
Mingyu shuts off his internal debate processing, grateful to have you choose for the both of you. “My roommates work the late shift at the bar on 89th so they will probably come home at some point but they don’t care about guests…or girlfriends. We respect that rule in regards to privacy.”
“Ugh,” you rolls your eyes, relaxing in his hold, “That must be so nice. Got an extra room at your place?”
“Got plenty of space for you in mine,” he smirks, “Alright let me grab our bags from the locker room and we’ll get out of here. Did you drive?”
You shake your head, moving to turn off the audio system, “No, I took the bus today.”
“Sweet, we’ll take my car home and won’t have to worry about leaving yours.”
It’s funny how you’re both being so casual at the moment as if you weren’t pinned up against the desk, debating whether you should desecrate the business office, and now you’re both going about your normal routines as if you didn’t just agree that you’re leaving to go directly to his place to hook up for the first time. 
It catches up with you when Mingyu pulls up to the front of his shared beach house and cuts the engine. You look at the light blue house and catch the subtle sounds of the ocean not far off. “I had no idea you lived on the island,” you share as you get out of the car and walk together toward the door. 
Mingyu hands you the key and takes your bag so you can open the door. “Yeah, we’ve been here about a year now. Used to share a condo a little further in but we spend a lot of time at the beaches here so when this place opened up we snagged it as quick as we could.”
Pushing inside, it’s exactly what you imagine a triad of bachelors to live in. Everything is clean but the couch is a futon, there are two cd towers filled with music you’d love to check out, a few bean bag chairs, a stereo system big enough to take up half a wall, and theres a couple of empty corona bottles spread on the low table in the living room next to a few gaming controllers. 
Mingyu groans when he sees them and glances over apologetically. “I definitely asked them to clean those up when I left this morning. You’d think a couple of bartenders would know how to recycle empty beer bottles. I swear we have manners.”
You laugh and follow him to what you assume is his bedroom down the hall. He opens the door and drops both bags next to his dresser before flicking on a lamp. “Wasn’t expecting to bring you back here so I am glad my cleaning habits are something of use,” he pulls open a drawer and grabs a random t-shirt before handing it to you, “Here, you can wear this if you want and I’ll show you where the bathroom is…I just uhhh..I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable changing out of your uniform.”
You raise a brow at him, “What? My Dickies and pinstrip ref polo aren’t sexy enough for you?”
He smirks back, “Anything you wear is sexy enough for me but the sex and dating column in Cosmopolitan’s spring magazine says a woman’s comfort comes before all else and is the key to a healthy, thriving relationship.”
“You read Cosmo?” 
He shrugs, “Had to pick my mom and sister up at the hair salon and got there on time which was apparently thirty minutes early. There was nothing else to do.”
“Learn anything else?” you ask just before he leaves you at the bathroom door.
Mingyu tugs the frosty bleached tips of his hair. “Learned six new ways to accesorize with butterfly clips and that my horoscope for last month was only half correct,” he grins, “Let me know if you need anything, babe, i’m gonna use the other bathroom to clean up.”
You mumble back an OK and shut the door, bumping into the counter. “Babe?” you repeat quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror. 
The reality of you having a super-hot-hockey-player boyfriend who is also insanely sweet and volunteers his free time to coach a youth league, and is an amazing kisser, and the kind of guy that calls you babe, crashes into you completely and you’re scrambling to clean yourself up, change, steal some mouthwash, and give yourself a full pep talk before you emerge god knows how long later. 
Following the same path back to Mingyu’s room, you pause at the door and take a deep breath before re-entering his space. 
He’s laying in his bed tossing a small blue ball up and down with one hand while he waits. You’re pleased to see that he decided not to put a shirt on, lounging only in a pair of basketball shorts, because you also decided to ditch half your clothing. The opposite half.
The ball lands in his palm with an audible smack and he looks up when you step into his room, closing the door behind you. 
“Wait right there,” he throws out a hand as you take a step closer and you hesitate, “I just want to burn this image into my memory for all of eternity.” 
Rolling your eyes with a soft laugh, you walk the rest of the way over to Mingyu who reaches for your hand and pulls you up onto his bed to straddle his lap comfortably. His hands move up and down your thighs and he’s smiling at you all the while. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighs and then shakes his head when you try to brush him off. “Genuinely. I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You’re not even wearing pants to get into.”
He’s amusing and captivating when he’s like this, hands exploring every inch of exposed skin, chest pressed against yours, his face turned up as he looks at you with that white-hot gaze. It further drives your need to touch and feel him so you wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely, letting your fingers dance over the muscle in his back. 
Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed, only for a moment as your nails trail over his spine, and you smile to yourself, overjoyed with the feeling of his body beneath yours.  
“This feels a little surreal,” you speak quietly and he hums in response, setting his eyes back on your face, “I mean…”
“Ahhhhhh,” he grins, lacing his fingers together where his hands rest on your lower back, kept warm under your shirt, “Because you’ve been dreaming about me every night since we met?”
“Something like that,” you sigh and Mingyu shuts up, not expecting you to give in so easily. You pinch the hair at the nape of his neck tugging it nervously, “You should probably kiss me before I say something even more embarrassing.”
Mingyu chuckles and his eyes dip to your mouth. He captures your lips easily, moving his hands against the planes of your back as he kisses you until your mind clouds over. 
His hair is soft between your fingers, the silly frosted ends tickling your skin when you give a little experimental tug. Wonwoo teased him endlessly for falling for the fad but you had to admit you liked it on him. 
You’d probably like anything on him though. Besides, it wasn’t long before Wonwoo broke down and tried it too albeit a bit more subtle and less Backstreet Boys. 
Mingyu braces his forearm behind your hips and tugs. His skin is hot and he keeps you still against him, not like you plan on shifting away, but the need to be touched, held…anchored to him is met without needing to ask. It feeds into your confidence allowing you to move more freely, rolling your hips, arching your back until your chest is pushing into his and he just can’t stand the fabric in the middle. 
The shirt he’d given you doesn’t even fully hit the ground before his arms are wrapped around your body again and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips trailing over your throat, shoulders, collar bones. Whatever he can reach without letting go. 
A sharp gasp hits the air when his tongue dips to the base of your throat and he closes his lips over that same spot with a kiss. Thighs trembling, you hope he doesn’t comment on the pathetic way your cunt squeezes around nothing. He says nothing though. Instead, he groans deep in his chest and his hands tighten possesively. 
Then he does it again, and again. He encourages your real, raw reactions, full intending to pull them from you until you let go of whatever mental block is keeping you from letting him know exactly how much you love the way he makes you feel. 
Pretty soon he succeeds and you’re no longer trying to hold yourself together, holding your breath, or trying to be quiet. 
Mingyu drags his teeth along your collarbones and grins at the soft hum you let out, so at odds with the way your body jumps at the sharp sensation. 
“You like that, huh?”
It take an extra few seconds to process his words, brain near mush from his attention.
“So you do like it,” Mingyu laughs, pecking a small kiss to your shoulder, “What else do you like?”
You’ve only just now formed a response to his first question and now he’s asking another and he’s smirking. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose…
Your mouth pops open to say something, what that might have been, you’ll never know because at the same time, Mingyu leans back a little and drags your hips over his, grinding his erection against your sensitive cunt. “You like that?”
At this point, you give up on words and just nod your head fervently. Yes, I fucking like that.
His hands ghost up your sides until his thumbs are brushing against your breasts. He pauses, testing the water before diving in, and he catches the hitch in your breath. The way your head drops back just a touch like all this is making you a little dizzy. He leans forward and presses a kiss against your sternum before falling back against the pillows to take in the full picture. 
You, perched in his lap with your back arched, pushing your aching breasts into his hands to play with. It’s the exact shit he’s fallen victim to in a wet dream but this is real and far better because here you are, in the flesh, gripping onto his wrists and rocking your hips against him for an inkling of relief from how much he’s turned you on.
It’s wearing his patience down and is going to bite him in the ass if he doesn’t move things along. He prematurely finished one time and it still haunted him at night. Never again.
Hopefully.
Mingyu makes a miraculous maneuver, with you landing on your back at his side, somehow, without twisting or pinning someone’s limb in the process. 
“That was very smooth.”
You’re staring back up at him in wonder, partly because you’re not used to being tossed around like that, but also because he’s looking down at you with a serious, heated expression and it’s making your heart beat a little too fast.
“Can I touch you?” he askes softly and you’re immediately nodding. “Yeah?” he mimics the motion in a daze, eyes glued to your mouth, “Come here.”
Easy. You kiss him, well, it’s pretty equal efforts but you get to him first, too impatient to wait even half a second more. His hand moves over your hip slowly, then shifts to brush against your naval where he rests it for a moment, heat from his skin seeping into yours. 
He’s planning on making good on his request, though you beat him to it again. 
Mingyu parts his lips with a sigh when he feels your hand slide over his. Your fingers curl around his palm and you guide his hand lower. He asked to touch you and then made you wait - whether it be on purpose or just his own nerves - you’ll help him help you.
He doesn’t seem to mind and rewards you instantly with his thick fingers rubbing against your cunt through your panties. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan and his brows knit together right as the sound hits his ears. His gaze is unwavering and you almost wish he would just kiss you again instead of studying your face this closely…then his middle finger presses down a little harder and the sound you let out that time makes the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smirk. 
It doesn’t even slip away when he leans down and kisses you, his smirk still obviously tugging at his lips when they touch yours. His hand pushes inside your underwear and he groans into your mouth when he feels how wet and warm you are but he doesn’t have time to waste or savor the feeling because he needs you to cum on his fingers at least once before he fucks you and his will to wait it out is all but gone. 
You’re responsive to every stroke, gasping and whimpering, digging your nails into his arm. Your back arches up off the bed every time he pumps his fingers faster, rubbing them up against your g-spot with expert ease because, hell yeah he reads cosmo, he’s too fucking good at it to not have been guided by the devine-feminine mind. 
Mingyu’s mouth envelopes one of your nipples and his tongue rolls against it at almost the same pace and pattern he’s rubbing your own slick into your clit and that’s enough to send you over the edge. He tries to be patient, to let you come down before he goes reaching for a condom but he catches the time on his digital alarm clock, the numbers glaring at him in bright red. 
It was already past midnight meaning having the house to himself is ending relatively soon. 
You don’t need the extra recovery time though, in fact, it’s the opposite. What you need is more and you need it now. “Mingyu…” he hums in response and you will your mouth to work again, “Do you even play basketball?”
He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Poking your tongue in your cheek you nod and point to his shorts, “...Off.”
Mingyu grins as he leans down and kisses you before rolling out of bed and your lips turn up into a smile, a breathless laugh floating up into the air. He drops his shorts and steps out in white Calvin Kleins stretched taut over his golden thighs, showing off every inch of his assets, and you have to prop yourself up on your elbows to even get the full picture.
Move over Marky Mark. 
You’re too busy staring at Mingyu’s body to notice him taking the opportunity to appreciate yours. It’s just a brief moment to sate both your curiosities because though neither of you would prefer to admit it, you’ve thought about each other naked and probably more than once. Getting handsy on your date gave you a bit of an idea but the overwhelmingly obvious dick print staring you in the face at the moment confirms your indecent theory about what Mingyu might be packing…
And that has got to be the ‘Pony’ Ginuwine was singing about.
When your eyes meet somewhere in the middle, you both turn away quickly, embarrassed only slightly for getting caught. It was a good feeling to know that the attraction is mutual. You hear a drawer close softly and feel the dip in the bed when he slides under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you land almost nose to nose and Mingyu grins, “I like it when you check me out.”
You answer him with a kiss that starts out innocently enough but it’s such a dizzying sensation to be so wrapped up in him that whatever witty retort you had been thinking of is lost in the way his fingers squeeze into your side. He sighs against your lips when he drags you closer and your thigh settles high on his hip, wrapping your body around him tightly. Without thought or hesitation, he drives his pelvis forward, rubbing his erection into your sensitive cunt. 
It makes you break for air, drawing too much of it into your lungs just to sharply moan through the exhale when he doesn’t stop. The muscles in his arms are so taut beneath your fingers that you know he’s not doing it to tease you - he’s at his breaking point and really just can’t help himself.
One hand slides down and pushes against the waistband of his briefs, rolling the material down as best you can until it catches his attention so his can finish the job himself. He groans, mostly to acknowledge your intentions, but also because he’s slowly trying to reel himself back for a moment. Just long enough to peel the last bits of clothing off you both and get a rubber on. It’s probably one of the most ridiculously inconvenient things he’s been made to do in a long time.
Neither of you say a word as he rips open the foil, trying to keep his hands still enough to roll the condom on correctly. It feels like static in his veins, trying to sit still when everything inside his body is screaming go, go, go! You can feel it too, the buzz of anticipation, the pulse between your thighs. 
Then, there is a pause after he rolls back over, covering your bare body with his own, and he just looks at you for a moment, mouth tight. Your hands slide over his arms, up his shoulders, and settle on his face. “Everything ok?”
“Just wanna do this right,” he whispers back, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand. 
The corners of your lips lift in a small smile. “Feels pretty right to me, if that helps.”
The tension in his shoulders melts away and he relaxes his pinched brows. “It does help,” he says, one big hand stroking the outside of your thigh around his waist, “Just…talk to me if there is anything you want or don’t like.”
“I will,” you reassure him and he eyes you wearily one more time until you sigh, “I promise.”
That seems to be enough for him as he shifts between your legs and you let your hands fold over his shoulders, trying hopelessly to relax your body when you feel his fingers on you again. He doesn’t keep them there long, just enough to make sure you’re still wet before he’s gripping his cock, guiding himself into your heat. 
The pressure is immense and Mingyu feels you tense up beneath him. He pulls his other arm up and shifts his weight over to one side, grabbing your face with his free hand. “Breathe,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to look at him, “Just breathe, baby.”
Easier said than done but you exhale shakily and his thumb brushes against your cheek. Mingyu draws his hips back slightly and pushes further in, eyes falling to your mouth when it pops open. The feeling of fullness is all encompassing and all you can think about. So full you might burst at the seams but again, you will yourself to relax and he finally, finally bottoms out.
You let out a sharp breath and just can’t seem to catch it. 
Mingyu seems unsure of whether he should move or not and he barely gets the question out before you’re nodding. The first few thrusts are still tender and he’s still mindful of that but after a minute or so, the tides turn and you’re digging your heels into his backside, pulling him deeper. 
Mentally, emotionally, physically deeper. 
He’s a romantic through and through, including in times like this where he’s drunk on pussy and pure infatuation. He can’t get enough. The way you feel around him, clinging to his body, hands against his chest, eyes glued to his. He’s in severely dangerous territory and clamps his lips shut until the words sitting there fizzle out. Patience is what he needs. In his mind and in his heart.
His body is on an entirely different page. 
Mingyu is smooth and consistent in his movements, like water in and around you. His name spills from your lips reverently, whispered into the air between you and it feeds him, pushes him to fufill your needs in a way you knew deep down he would. He’s a pleaser in every way. 
So, when you slow him down with your palms firmly planted against his chest, he stops and listens. His attentiveness almost makes it harder to speak.
“Can I uh…like would you mind if I…laid on my stomach?” you ask unevenly, not really sure why you’re hesitating to share what you want when that is what he’s asked of you.
Mingyu looks like he’s died and gone to heaven. He doesn’t even answer. Carefully, he pulls out and moves so he can roll you over, prop your hips up, and fill you right back up. This time there is no slow start. His hand settles on your back, just between your shoulder blades, and he holds you there, pinning you in place in such a way that your eyes close on contact. Perfectly content to stay put.
The room is filled with lewd noises. Skin slapping against skin. Deep grunting and moaning sounds mixed together. Your muffled voice chanting his name over and over again. Mingyu’s quiet praises tickling your ears when your head turns fuzzy. 
It’s a good thing no one is home because it’s almost embarrassing how loudly passionate you both are. You regret not asking Mingyu to turn on the radio to drown out the noise but it’s too late now and with another tug upwards on your hips, he’s stroking your walls just right and you hit an entirely new set of notes. 
Mingyu can feel you squeezing around him, mewling into his pillows and he’s hanging on for dear life because you’re still skirting around the edge and he’s seconds from toppling over. An idea pops into his head, a catch twenty-two really because in doing this, he puts himself at further risk of finishing first but it’s still too enticing to pass up. 
Somehow, he manages to roll your bodies together until he hits the mattress, successfully claiming his spot as your big spoon. He hooks his left arm under your head so that it’s rested on his bicep while his hand is free to roam your chest and his right arm snakes over your hip before you feel his middle and ring finger slip between your folds. 
With you tightly wound up in his hold he picks up a brutal, finishing pace. He hits all the right spots and works your body until you’re seeing stars. Your breathing now harsh and uneven limits your ability to speak but you don’t need to say anything at all. 
Mingyu knows your coming and he’s going right along with you. When your orgasm hits, you bear down against him, crying out in broken sounds as he pumps his hips through his own release. He continues to hold you against his chest, gently kneading at the fleshy part of your hip. 
He presses kisses against your hair and then carefully, he pulls out before rolling you onto your back. Mingyu’s smile is adoring and beautiful, it makes you want to bury your face in the pillows again. The blanket will have to do. 
“Why are you hiding?” Mingyu chuckles, grabbing at the blanket, “Was it that bad?”
You flip the sheet down and give him a blank stare. 
“Shut up,” you bite, a hint of a smile appearing, “You know it was good. Better than good.”
“How good?” he smirks. 
With an eye roll, you pull the blanket up just high enough to cover the lower half of your face. “Really fucking good…and you’re not even slightly winded.”
He’s on top of the world. 
“My stamina is just another one of my many desirable qualities,” he half-shrugs, “If you’re still not in love with me, I’m happy to keep trying.”
“Will you stop when I do?”
“Not a chance,” he grins, one hand squeezing your thigh as he swoops in to steal another kiss, “Stay with me tonight. I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast”
You pretend to think about it when you know you’ll say yes, and not just because you don’t have a car. A sleepover? With your hot boyfriend? Who just rocked your world and will probably do it again and then cook for you in the morning? Yeah, that’s a no-brainer.
“I could probably be convinced if you find me something comfy to wear and have a spare pack of noodles…I’m starving.”
Mingyu jumps out of bed, the sight of his bare cheeks making you turn and giggle. “I’m about to make you the best noodles of your life,” he walks over to his dresser pulling out underwear for himself, a clean t-shirt, and blue-plaid pajama pants, then he tugs open another drawer and turns to you, holding out a big soft-looking jacket, “I think you’ll like this one. I don’t have any pants that will fit you but this is pretty long. Oooh,” he pauses, “I didn’t think about underwear when I-”
“Ruined mine?” you raise your brow teasingly, sitting up and making grabby hands for the sweater he tosses to you.
He scoffs, tip of his tongue poking at his teeth. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”
Your voice is muffled as you pull the sweater over your head before climbing out of bed, pleased that it indeed covers you well. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to keep an extra pair in my bag.” You mention this so casually that he’s stunned when you walk over to grab said panties from your bag and kiss his cheek before turning to leave, “I’m gonna go clean up. Meet you in the kitchen for those mind blowing noodles?”
Mingyu hollers back as you near the bathroom door. “I’ll blow your mind in the kitchen alright!”
He slumps against the dresser when he hears you respond with, “I’m sure you will, babe!”
Babe. Ugh, you’re so it for him. 
The steam of the shower mixed with some kind of masculine aroma in Mingyu’s body wash gives off the same feeling of being in his arms and the thought warms your belly again. It’s almost embarrassing, how much you want him just after having him in full, but you’re sure he’d be happy to oblige even if you so much as hinted at it. 
Maybe he will blow your mind in the kitchen.
As you’re wrapping up and getting dressed you hear music, oddly loud for the hour but it’s vaguely familiar, still muffled by the sound of the vents running to air out the steam in the bathroom. Then there’s a crash, not earth shattering but enough that you’re slightly concerned. You hurry to hang your towel and pull on your clean underwear and his sweater when you hear another bump against the wall. Then…singing?
“Kiss meeee out of the bearded bobby~”
“NIGHTLYYYY beside the greanbeann grass~”
You poke your head into the hallway, “Um…Mingyu?”
“SWIIINGG SWIINNG-”
“Swing the spinnnning stem~”
Definitely not Mingyu. Also, definitely not the right words to this song but your interest is piqued.
You come around the corner to find him in the center of the living room, quietly laughing, holding the hand of one of his very jovial (probably drunk) maybe roommates while the other (definitely drunk) maybe roommate is spinning around them in circles, bumping into things along the way. 
The one with bright blonde hair pokes Mingyu mid-spin, “You wear the shoes and I’ll wear a dressss~”
Then the his drinking partner joins in and their both belting out, “oOHHH Kiss meeee, beneath the melting twilight~”
Mingyu points to the blonde and shouts over the noise, “That one’s Hoshi.”
 “Lead meeee, out on the moonlit flooOr!”
He gestures at the one hanging off his arm, the tall boy with shaggy black hair, “This one’s Minghao. They’re plastered, obviously.”
They’re delightful and Hoshi is coming your way with a cat-like smile. He bows, almost stumbles, and reaches for your hand which you’re happy to share. “Lift your open hand…” he serenades, lifting yours into the air, “Strike up the band and make firefights dance silver moons sparkly~”
And he spins you away so quickly you almost stumble but Mingyu catches you around the waist with Minghao singing over your shoulder in a whisper, “So, kiss me.”
And Mingyu does, of course, he’s not going to miss the opportunity. Minghao grins, leaning against the wall to catch his balance, and Hoshi claps…a little bit like a buffoon but you really like them both. Mingyu must really love them because he doesn’t complain one bit about the noise and overly dramatic show, especially with it being your first impression. It helps that he knows how laid back you are and can see the delight still dancing in your eyes. 
He does however, turn down the music on the stereo so everyone can talk without shouting. 
“You do know you guys are supposed to be serving the alcohol…not drinking it…right?”
“Don’t be r- *hiccup* -rude!” Hoshi flaps his hand dismissively, “I’ll tell your pretty girlfriend about all the times we had to hold your hair back, our sweet little Mingoo ~”
Minghao giggles, bumping into Hoshi’s shoulder, “Or about how you,” he pauses, the two of them bursting into hysterics as Mingyu sighs like he knows what’s coming. Minghao wipes away a tear, still cackling, “About how you got totally tanked that weekend you first started working at Wheelie’s and whined alllll nighttttt-”
Hoshi whacks Mingyu’s shoulder laughing and then looks at you, “He wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night. Crying into his beer…because he thought you were dating the DJ.”
Your hand flies over your mouth, giggling up at your boyfriend who is being a really good sport right now. Even as he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head at his friends. 
“Vernon and I were never dating,” you fake sniffle, “Sadly.”
“Sadly?!” Mingyu swings his head around toward you, “I thought the soulmate thing was a joke?” he laughs.
“Oh, baby, it is a joke,” you reassure him, patting his chest gently but just when he relaxes you whisper, “Until it isn’t.”
Hoshi sticks out his hand as he’s stumbling toward the kitchen and you land a low-five as he goes, and one up top when Minghao follows behind him excitedly mumbling about making drinks for everyone, then Hoshi is shouting about noodles ‘for the love of god, we need more noodles!’
Mingyu sighs and you know he’s about to complain that he no longer has you to himself. Can practically hear it in your head already. So, you cut him off before he can start, tugging him down into a kiss hot enough to make him groan against your lips as his hands dip down to take handfuls of you. 
Then he’s laughing, falling out of rythym and you pull back, smiling. “What?”
You squawk in surprise when he smacks your ass and says, “You know you’re still not wearing pants, right?”
Actually, you forgot because of the whole song and dance thing. 
“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble, tugging his sweater further down your thighs, “I could go throw my work pants-”
“I can try to find you som-”
You both look toward the kitchen when music starts playing and Mingyu shakes his head, almost regretting stowing his portable radio in there for when he’s cooking. It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, like someone cranked the volume all the way up, it’s starts blasting and they’re both singing.
“Ooooh baby, baybay, b-baby, baybaby, oooh baby-”
Mingyu just laughs. “On second thought, don’t even worry about it. They aren’t going to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.”
“I like them,” you grin.
His shoulder shake with mirth, “Of course you do.”
You giggle when one of the guys starts shouting the words and grab Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along behind you. “Come on, noodles, drinks, Salt-n-Pepa,” he fake groans and you squeeze his hand, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a sleepover in years.”
Then he’s grinning, “Well, we can make it a regular thing if you want.”
You turn, just before you get to the kitchen and push up to kiss his cheek, “Whatever you say, Hot Wheels.”
“Oh, come on,” he drags his feet after you, “Can we pick a new nickname?!”
“Sure. Come on, Coach Kim. Let’s go play in the kitchen.”
He stumbles a step and shakes his head. “Am I supposed to pretend it doesn’t make me kind of horny when you call me that? God, please don’t hold that against me. I am only a man.”
Oh? Good to know. “Whatever you say, Coach.”
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Thanks for reading! 💖
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→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️
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foone · 10 months ago
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Have you heard about the Polish Train company, Newag, and the bullshit it turns out they got up to?
So, the regional rail operator Koleje Dolnośląskie bought some Newag Impuls back in 2016 . In late 2021, some of them need to have major maintenance done, as they've been in service a while. So the company SPS (Serwis Pojazdów Szynowych) gets the contract to fix them. They basically take the train apart, replace a bunch of it, following all the rules in the documentation Newag gave them, and... it won't move. The train says everything is fine, the brakes are off, there's plenty of power, but you push the throttle up and it won't move.
SPS spends a while trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong, with no luck. So they hire some hackers from the Polish security group Dragon Sector. Dragon Sector figures out how to get into the code of the computer system that runs the train, and OH MY GOD.
So it turns out there's a secret train-lock system. If it's on, the train won't move. This will be triggered in some situations you might think are normal: the clocks are wrong, the serial numbers of the various parts have changed, and a firmware mismatch between the main computer and the power system. Now, the fact that it makes sense to not run the train in these situations until someone can check it? that doesn't extend to the fact the train uses a SECRET lock system, rather than just popping up an error message telling you what's wrong. There's also the problem that while these are all potential error problems, they can't be cleared by anyone with the technical manuals, which are supposed to cover everything about how to run these trains. Only Newag themselves can reset this system.
Which, you know, keeps SPS from properly fixing them. Only Newag can fix them now, but not because SPS lacks any technical ability, but because Newag sabotaged their own trains. But don't worry: it gets worse.
So now that Dragon Sector knows what's happening, they get to look at other trains. It turns out the trains aren't all running the same software, and there are other tricks in there.
One of them is a "how long has the train been stopped?" check. If the train hasn't hit 60 km/h in 10 days, the train locks itself and won't move until Newag can clear it. So, like, if a train is ever out of service, like it's going to a repair place... it'll break itself. Unless the repair place is owned by Newag.
But two of the trains go further: See, these trains have GPS built in, right? You may be able to guess where this is going...
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THEY JUST MAKE THE TRAIN CHECK IF IT IS PARKED AT THEIR COMPETITORS' REPAIR YARD AND BREAK ITSELF IF IT WAS.
The sheer audacity of this move. This is frighteningly bullshit anti-competition self-sabotage.
This has, obviously, made some parts of the Polish government to start investigating this. Newag may be (and hopefully will be) in a lot of trouble.
For more info, there's a great video of a presentation by the three people from Dragon Sector who did the hacking, which was presented at the 37th Chaos Communication Congress in Germany.
Ars Technica also has an article on it, but it predates the presentation so it doesn't have some of the later details.
Anyway, the good news is that in the end the hackers at Dragon Sector were able to unlock most of the trains: A few had additional trickery that they didn't want to hack around, because it might break the train's certification. For the others, they discovered undocumented "cheat codes" in the software that they could use to bypass the secret lockouts... presumably the same ones that Newag would have used when they "repaired" trains.
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kat-mobile · 4 months ago
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could i request a small fic/imagine where tommy is soft with only his girlfriend/fiancé/wife and his kids?🫶🏼
Scary? My God you're divine!
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A/N: hey babes, this is actually longer than I was expecting lmao. It still is under 1000 though. I am a huge sucker for soft!Tommy so thank you so much for this request 😍. I named the baby Charlotte before I realised how much her full name sucks and then couldn't be arsed to change it, so apologies to Charlotte Shelby. This is probably also ooc but I don't give a shit, but I hope you like it anon!!! 💕💕
You knew what Tommy did, what came with his job. All the illegal affairs and cutting people up. You'd be a fool not to. But you couldn't help but feel as if the real Tommy Shelby was the one who came out when he was with you.
Ever since the start of your relationship, Tommy had always acted differently around you, much softer, always there to place a soothing hand on your back or hunch over to talk to you with his lips brushing your ear, his words meant for no ears but your own. His hardened gaze softened and the corners of his mouth would quirk up in a a miniscule smile, only momentarily but you would count that as a win no less.
Arthur had employed you to help run things at the garrison, you weren't exactly excellent at maths but you were certainly better than Arthur so you would help with the books as well as working as a barmaid. The two of you met for the first time when Tommy burst into the office of the garrison with a cut on his sharp cheekbone, he thought he would be opening the door to his brother, you thought he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. You insisted on helping and sanitising the "wound" and although he initially refused he soon gave in to your worried frown and relentless offer of help. The two of you had been practically inseparable since, rarely seeing one without the other and if one was missing they were never very far behind.
Tommy took to you almost immediately after meeting you, and Polly clocked him the very next day. The woman always was good at reading Tommy and that day was no different.
Over the next couple of months, whenever he was around Tommy barely let you lift a finger, always eager to help lift things and assist in anyway possible, never letting you out yourself in any risk whatsoever, no matter how small. At first you were offended, thinking that he was doing it because he thought you incapable, what with you being a woman, or if he didn't trust you enough to do things on your own. But when you brought it up one day, thoroughly fed up, he was quick to quell your suspicions and doubts by instead admitting his growing feelings towards you. Absolutely zero persuasion was needed for you to agree to a date with the handsome Tommy Shelby, and now three years later you're married with an adorable little four month old baby girl named Charlotte.
Tommy often refers to your small family as his greatest weakness, saying that if it ever gets out how soft he is that his reputation would never recover. But you just laugh to yourself and cuddle in closer, hand coming up to stroke Charlotte's head. No one would believe it if it got out, he has nothing to worry about.
The first time Tommy had held her you would've thought she was made out of cheap glass, fragile and likely to break at even the smallest of mishandlings. You knew from the moment that little Charlotte Shelby first opened her eyes, sharp and blue like her fathers, that she had Birmingham's most feared gangster wrapped around her teeny tiny pinky. Once the doctor had shown him how to hold the baby properly, supporting her head and all that, it was hard to separate the two.
Every night when he came home to you he would lie in the centre of the bed with you curled up into his side, head resting on his firm shoulder, and he would place the small babe to lie on his bare chest, small legs tucking up in a scrunch like a frog and cute babbles making the corners of his eyes crease.
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hiraethwrote · 5 months ago
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i prefer it, actually
summary: after being called in the middle of the night, megumi comes over to take care of you while you're drunk
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[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]
cw: college au, f!reader, sorority!reader, pure fluff, intoxicated reader, party but mostly going on in the background, throwing up, aged up characters
word count: 2.2k
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“Hello?” Megumi answered the phone in a confused haze, the blaring ringtone waking him up from his deep sleep.
“Megumi? I think you should come down here.” The voice that greeted him wasn’t one he recognised, and his confusion only strengthened when he checked the caller ID to see a picture of you.
“Who is this?” He asked, slowly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up in his bed.
In the background, he heard muffled music interrupted by a loud gag. “It’s Kasumi.”
Kasumi? There was something scarily familiar about that name, and after a few silent moments of thought he connected the dots, remembering she was a part of your sorority.
And as the pieces fell together, the concern started to fill his body, serving almost as an alarm clock as his sleepiness become nothing but a distant memory in a matter of seconds. “Is she okay?”
“Well…” Kasumi trailed off on the other end of the phone before another horrible gag interrupted the line. “She’s just really drunk.”
His shoulders dared relax just an tad. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he sighed before another sickening sound he only assumed was you hunched over a toilet bowl. Some of his worry had settled when he knew you weren’t in any immediate danger at least, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep again until he was certain you were safely in bed.
As he promised, fifteen minutes later he walked through the door of your sorority, the party still in full swing as he bullied himself through the thick crowd to get to the stairs.
God, he couldn’t stand this. Too many people shoved into a house where the mere concept of personal space was long abandoned. Obnoxious music that was so loud you were unable to hear your own thoughts — and not to mention how incredibly annoying people got when drinking.
Therefore he could not for the life of him fathom why you loved it so much. Only a handful of times had he accompanied you to parties like this, and you always managed to have a good time. That might be the only thing he has ever found himself liking with these things; seeing how much you enjoyed yourself.
So for the most part, he just decided to stay in when you wanted to go out so he wouldn’t ruin your evening by moping around, constantly checking the time to see when it was acceptable for him to go to bed. He didn’t want to be that boyfriend who stopped you from doing the things you liked just because he didn’t want to.
When he reached your room, his head cleared up as the people and music from downstairs was shut out, transforming into muffled background noise through the floor. He placed three knocks on your bathroom door before it creaked open, spotting the blue haired girl he assumed had to be Kasumi. “Hey,” he whispered, leaning against the doorframe as she opened the door further.
“Thank god you’re here. She’s been begging for you for like two hours,” she groaned, not hesitating to walk out of the bathroom so she could return to the festivities. "I think she's pretty much finished in there, just tired now."
He cleared his throat. “Thanks for taking care of her,” he said awkwardly as she was about to exit your room.
“Of course,” she smiled sweetly. “She would have done the same for me,” and she was gone.
He turned back around, pushing the door fully open to reveal you just in the position he had excepted. Your hair was tied back in a ponytail, makeup slightly smudged from throwing up for who knew how long, a constant little shiver running through your body.
“How you hanging in there?” He asked, a small amused smirk creeping up on his face.
Lifting your head from where it was resting on your arm, you turned to look at him, face lighting up the second your eyes landed on him. “Megumi, you’re here!” You nearly cheered, both hands immediately extending towards him, needy for him to come join you on the floor.
He does as you wished, his hands instinctively stroking away the stray hairs that hung in front of your face, behind your ears. “Feeling okay?”
“Better now that you’re here!” You slurred, flashing your teeth at him in a huge grin. The annoyance and frustration caused by the party below was quickly forgotten at the sight of you beaming at him. Even though you looked tired, appearance tainted by the evening, it did nothing to smother beauty. “I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.” You were clearly still intoxicated, eyelids droopy as you mumbled sentences he could barely make out.
“A little blue birdie told me you needed me, so,” he shrugged, as if it was nothing to think about.
“Awe, baby,” you squealed as you fell forward, head landing on his chest. “You’re too good for me,” you sighed, melting into his body, the heat radiating off of him soothing the shiver present in your own body.
A gentle hand finds your upper arm to give it a light squeeze. “Do you think you can get up?” He felt the movement of your head agree to his request. He stands up first, grabbing ahold of your clammy hands and pulling you to your feet, instantly lacing his arm around your waist when you nearly fell over the second you were stood up. “Easy there,” he chuckled quietly.
“I’m fine!” You rushed in a high pitched tone, grabbing onto him for support, feeling the room spin a lot more now than when you were leaned over the toilet. When you weren’t nuzzled up against his warm chest anymore, the tremble quickly found its way back to your muscles. “‘m cold.”
“You’re cold?” He asked for confirmation. You only nodded, bottom lip sticking out in a dramatic pout. “Okay,” he whispered to himself before letting go of you by the sink before walking into your room to get you something.
“No, not that one!” You whined when he came back with one of your hoodies in his hands, earning you a confused frown from your boyfriend. “Want yours.”
He just rolled his eyes, acting as if he genuinely thought you were being a nuisance — but in reality, his heart did a little skip at the fact that you so persistently wanted to wear something of his instead.
At the foot of your bed he spotted a familiar hoodie, where you’d thrown it after waking up. Whenever the two of you didn’t spend the night together, you made sure to have a piece of his clothing nearby so he didn’t feel so terribly far away.
Could you be considered a clingy girlfriend? Probably — but you preferred the term devoted.
“Thank youuuuu,” you cooed as he simply tilted his head to signal for you to raise your arms. You happily obliged and he pulled it over your head, a satisfied hum slipping out as you hugged your arms around yourself to take in the familiar scent of your boyfriend.
Without saying anything, he grabbed your toothbrush with one hand, and your face with the other to hold it still, fingers softly digging into your plush cheeks. He finds it surprisingly unproblematic to help you brush your teeth, suspecting your drunken state might actually have served as help, paralysing your usual restlessness.
He gently grabbed your hand and guided you back to your room again, but was abruptly halted when you decided to stop dead in your tracks. With pinched eyebrows, he turned to you.
“Babe, I can’t go to bed with my makeup on.” You let go of his hand to retreat them into the sleeves of the sweater, hoping the warmth it usually provided would find you soon.
“Okay?” He asked, nervously moving his hand to his neck, rubbing it slightly as he waited for you to give him the right instructions.
“There’s makeup wipes under the sink,” you said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered under his breath and went to get the wipes. When he returned, he nearly stumbled over your limp body. During his short trip to the bathroom, you had suddenly decided to just lay down on your back in the middle of the floor. With another sigh, he positioned himself on his knees by your head before carefully lifting it into his lap.
He started with your eyes, lightly rubbing the wet wipe across your eyelids. It didn’t take long before he managed to draw a drunken giggle from your lips. “What?”
“You’re so gentle,” you opened your eyes to stare up at him, thinking he was upside down but you couldn’t be too sure as the room was still spinning. The frown — you once had thought was a chronic condition — was very much present.
“I don’t wanna pop your eyes out.”
You only laughed. “You’re not gonna pop my eyes out. C’mon, you can put a little more pressure.” He let out a long and stressed exhale before going back to work, grimacing in fear as he did as you’d told him.
Eventually, the makeup came off, but you continued to lay completely still. You kept your head in his lap, eyes closed and a small smile ever present on your face.
“Did you have fun tonight?” His voice was soft, barely audible — especially with the banging from the bass downstairs seeping through the floor.
“Meh,” you said simply as you shrugged.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” you breathed as you open your eyes to meet his gaze again. “You weren’t there.” He snorted, slightly rolling his eyes at your statement, believing you were only lying to make him feel better about coming all the way down to your sorority in the middle of the night.
“Yeah, right. How much did you have to drink?”
“No, Megs, I’m serious,” you giggled as your hands acted on their own, raising to cup his cheeks. “There’s only so much fun I can have when you’re not here.”
He felt his cheeks heat against your hands — you didn’t seem to notice however. He always thought it strange, that even after the two of you became official, it didn’t take a lot of effort from you to bring that redness to his face, a colour that had only grown familiar to his features after getting to know you.
“Sure, so fun having me sulk at your heels all evening.” There’s nothing but sarcasm in his tone as he continued to try and hide his flushed cheeks.
“I don’t mind,” you said softly as you gaze directly into his eyes, his blush only amplifying. “I prefer it, actually.”
His soft eyes roamed your face, lips slightly parted in awe. He still didn’t understand how you, who was so sociable, always the life of the party, beyond stunning, had decided he was the one you wanted to be with. And time and time again you confirmed it to him that it was for real.
Without much more thought, he simply leaned forward to press a tender kiss on your lips, your lips curling up in a giddy smirk. You were unable to contain yourself, breaking the kiss by hiding your face behind your hands, strangling the sweet giggles spilling out of you.
“You still make me nervous,” you said in between the cute sounds that was like music to his ears.
“I make you nervous?” He scoffed. “Alright, you’re clearly still drunk. Time for bed.” He gently tapped your shoulder, trying to get you to lift from his lap.
“You can never take a compliment,” you grumbled, wearing the frown that was more often seen painted on his eyebrows. He didn’t entertain your complaints, merely helping you up before leading you to your bed.
When he was about to turn around, your hand grabbed a hold of his wrist, surprised by the strength in your clutch. “No, you gotta stay here tonight!”
“I’m not leaving,” he laughed. “I’m just going to get you some water,” he said as he grabbed your hand to force you to let go.
“Oh.”
He can’t help but shake his head a little. You were probably the only drunk person he liked — of course, he was biased. During the parties, you were so outgoing, in a way he always admired. And then, when it was time to turn in for the night, you became so incredibly cute.
After having fetched the glass, he returned to see you wrapped up in the covers, having pulled the hood over your head and nuzzled further into the clothing.
A content huff left his nose as he put the glass down on your nightstand before stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers, then he carefully climbed over you. He knew he’d only receive grumpy grunts of annoyance if he tried to shove you to sleep closest to the wall.
The second he closed his eyes, he felt you snake your arm tightly around his torso and burying your face against his back, wanting to consume as much of his body heat as possible. Two light taps on your hand caused you to loosen your grip before he wiggled to turn around so you were now burying your head in his chest instead.
A deep, much needed, breath filled your lungs before you simply melted into him as his arms wrapped around you, humming in satisfaction as his hands slowly began to rub your scalp.
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tags (taglist is open) @sad-darksoul, @nyahctrl, @ssetsuka
a/n the layout for these drabbles and short entries will be a little different, but yeah hope you like it. oh, and if you wanna be in the taglist, just lemme know <3 - btw, all warnings will be in the masterpost at all times
reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated plagiarism not authorized
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puckinghischier · 5 months ago
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Cart Girls & Curly Q’s
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Luke Hughes x fem!reader
summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl
notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼
request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?
[3k]
Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.
You, however, never wake up dreading your work.
During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.
During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.
The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.
Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.
You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.
Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.
Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.
You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.
As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.
They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.
You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.
Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.
You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.
Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.
You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.
“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.
“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.
You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.
“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.
He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.
After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.
Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.
“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.
You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.
“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.
His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.
“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.
You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.
“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.
“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.
“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.
You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.
Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.
When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.
You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.
The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.
“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.
You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.
“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.
“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.
You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.
“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.
“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.
“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”
He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.
“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.
He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.
You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.
“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.
“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.
Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.
Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.
“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.
You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.
Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.
“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.
You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.
His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.
“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.
“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”
Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.
“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.
“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.
“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”
“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”
“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.
“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.
“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”
He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.
“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.
“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.
“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”
You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.
This earns another laugh from Luke.
“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.
“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”
You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.
Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.
“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.
You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”
Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.
“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.
Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.
You pause all movements, staring at Luke.
“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.
Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.
“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.
“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.
“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.
Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”
“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.
“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.
“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.
Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.
You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.
“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.
You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.
You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.
“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.
Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.
You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.
You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.
As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.
You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.
“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.
You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.
You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.
Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.
Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.
He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.
Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.
You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.
When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.
He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.
“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.
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pathologicalreid · 1 year ago
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buried alive | S.R.
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in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angsty
content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.
part two part three
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You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”
“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.
It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.
“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.
Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”
You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”
Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.
“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.
“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.
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There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.
“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.
You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”
Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.
The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”
You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”
The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.
“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.
Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.
Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.
“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.
You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.
They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.
You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.
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Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.
“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.
Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”
Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”
“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.
Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”
“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.
After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.
Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”
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It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.
The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.
Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.
Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.
Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.
Your team would find you. They had to find you.
They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.
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Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”
“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.
He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.
Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”
But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.
They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”
Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.
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You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.
It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.
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The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.
“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”
Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”
“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.
What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.
Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.
Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.
He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.
“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.
What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.
Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.
It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.
Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.
The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.
“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”
Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.
Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”
He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.
Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”
To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.
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You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.
According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.
Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”
A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”
He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.
You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.
“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.
In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”
Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?
You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”
His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.
Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.
He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.
Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.
“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.
Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”
part two
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