#and he's so happy to have gotten it right

[whisperofwonder]

Wife Guy

The wife guys of Haikyuu

(The term does have some negative connotations but I don't mean it like that here. They're just some dudes who really love their wife. Cool? Cool.)

Featuring: Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime, Sakusa Kiyoomi x wife!reader - ~300 words each

(if someone else needs to be here, tell me. I might write it.)

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

Come on. He's the ultimate unironic wife guy.

You, his wife, are the light of his life. He adores you. He doesn't shut up about you. Your friends and family know this, the Jackals definitely know this, even his fans know this because he can't resist posting about you even when the social media managers get on his case. The moment your name or the words "my wife" pass his lips, anyone within earshot knows that it's all over.

He never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you. You need to know that, in his eyes, every little thing about you is perfect. Not only that, but he's a really touchy guy. He loves holding your hand, putting his arm around you, barraging you with kisses, any form of skin to skin contact with you. You and everyone around you have gotten used to the constant PDA over the years. He's just so pure and sweet about it that no one can even say a thing about it.

One of the things he loves about being a professional athlete is that it gives him the means to spoil you. Designer items, the latest tech, lush vacations, whatever it is that catches your eye, he's already got his credit card out. He's not trying to buy your love, he's showering you in his. No matter how often you insist that all you need to be happy is him, he can't resist a little treat every now and then.

The day you agreed to marry him was one of the best days of his life. Every time he takes notice of the ring on his finger, a little jolt of joy goes through him, even after all this time. The mere fact that he gets to spend the rest of his life loving you is simply unmatched.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

There's a reason that Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer is written as a knight in every single medieval AU. He's chivalrous, hard-working, and utterly devoted to his wife. He might be quieter about it, but his love for you is an undercurrent to everything. From the kiss pressed to your forehead when he gets up to start the day to the moment he pulls you against his chest in bed each night, there are a hundred little moments when he shows just how much you mean to him.

Most obvious to everyone around him is the small smile that comes across his face every single time he talks about you. "Oh, my wife picked it out." "Yeah, she did make this." "I'm taking her to dinner tonight, actually."

You will never walk closest to the street on his watch. Forgot your jacket? No you didn't, he tossed it in the back seat. When you're washing dishes after dinner, he's right there with the towel to dry. Craving ice cream at 10 pm? The corner store is only a few minutes walk for him, no it's no trouble, don't be ridiculous. It all just goes to show that he's constantly thinking of you - what you might need, what you might want, what might make you smile. If it's within his power, why wouldn't he do it for you? It's just inconceivable.

You make his life better. All he wants is to do the same for you. He might never say it out loud, but being married to you is the fairy tale life he hadn't dared to hope for. Spending every day by your side is enough to make him the happiest man in the world.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

His wife is his person. The world is full of irritants, uncomfortable situations, people who rub him the wrong way. You are the one that soothes it all away. His safe space. Coming home to you every day feels like a weight sliding from his shoulders.

He took to the simple day-to-day of married life so well. Dating was never his scene. Truth be told, you've felt married long before he put a ring on your finger. Everyone says the pair of you are the token old married couple. He might scoff, but to him it's the best kind of compliment.

He takes real pride in the home you share together. It's a sacred place that deserves to be kept neat and clean and comfortable. No matter what kind of day he has, he'll always spend at least a little time making sure everything is running smoothly for you, keeping up with the small things that he knows make your life a little easier.

His favorite moments are the quiet ones you share together. When either of you has had a less than perfect day, it's an unspoken rule that you'll be spending the evening together, curled up in your own little world where nothing else matters. Nothing is more comforting to him than the feel of you in his arms, breathing in your familiar scent. Everything else simply melts away.

Marrying you was the easiest decision he's ever made. There was no alternative. In the course of his life, he knows that he's doing something right, because with you by his side, he knows he can face anything else that may come.

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.1

Chapter One: Hide Your Heart From Sight

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Celebrities, Starstruck,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Welcome to this disaster of a fic that I have constantly daydreamed about. Logistically, yes, it is so improbable and unrealistic— but there’s a 0.001% chance that it could happen… to you. It’s nice to wonder and dream. I like wondering. Granted, I’ve never worked in production ever… I am studying advertising and arts soooo that’s as much knowledge I have tehe. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: It Could Happen To You by Laufey

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The hum of the plane’s engines filled the air as you settled into your seat, trying not to fidget. You glanced at your boarding pass again, as if to double-check you weren’t hallucinating. Seat 3B—business class. Marvel had spared no expense for the production team’s travel, but you still couldn’t quite believe you’d be flying so comfortably.

What shocked you even more, though, was the man lowering himself into the seat next to yours: Pedro Pascal. Yes, that Pedro Pascal. The man whose movies you’d watched obsessively before joining this production, the actor who somehow seemed both unattainably larger-than-life and heartbreakingly down-to-earth.

“Hi,” he said with a warm smile, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Looks like we’re seatmates.”

You froze for a moment, then managed a weak, “Hi.” Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you mentally scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete idiot.

“You’re with the crew, right?” Pedro asked, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um,” you stammered, “I’m just a production assistant. It’s my first big project.”

“No kidding? That’s awesome,” he said, genuinely sounding impressed. “First time working on a Marvel movie? How’s it going so far?”

“It’s… surreal,” you admitted, relaxing slightly under his easygoing demeanor. “I mean, it’s been amazing, but also kind of overwhelming. There’s so much to do, and everyone’s so talented. I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling.

“I get it,” Pedro said, nodding. “First big gig can be a lot. But hey, you’re here. That means someone saw something in you, right?”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Pedro asked you about your favorite movies, your hobbies, and how you’d gotten into production work. You told him about your love for art direction and set design, your dream of one day being a production designer, and your side passion for writing and music. When you mentioned you played guitar and sang, he raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to play something for us on set sometime,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that. I’d probably die of embarrassment.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he replied, his tone light but mischievous.

By the time the plane landed, you were buzzing—partly from the conversation and partly from the fact that you’d just spent hours talking to Pedro Pascal as if he were an old friend.

The buzz quickly faded when you arrived at the hotel. You stood in the lobby with the rest of the crew, listening as the location manager, Duncan, argued with the front desk staff. Apparently, there’d been a mix-up with the bookings. The hotel was overbooked due to a telecommunications conference, and somehow, you’d been assigned to share a suite… with Pedro Pascal.

“This has to be a mistake,” you muttered to yourself, your anxiety spiking as Duncan tried to sort things out. But no matter how much back-and-forth there was, the conclusion remained the same: there were no other rooms available.

“Look,” Pedro said finally, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor. “It’s fine. I don’t mind sharing if she’s okay with it.”

You blinked up at him, your mind racing. “I…”

“Hey,” he said gently, noticing your hesitation. He leaned in slightly, his voice soft but steady. “Look at me. I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it. No pressure.”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Duncan, who looked as stressed as you felt. Finally, you nodded. “I’m fine with it if everyone else is.”

“Great,” Pedro said, flashing you a reassuring smile. “It’s settled, then.”

Duncan pulled you aside before you headed to the elevators. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, his tone fatherly.

“Yes,” you said, forcing a smile. “Is there any kind of form I need to sign, or…?”

“No, it all falls under the NDA from your employment,” he assured you. “But seriously, if you need anything, just text me.”

You thanked him and joined Pedro in the elevator. The ride up to the suite was silent, save for the soft dinging of the floors passing by. When you finally stepped into the room, you couldn’t help but gape. It was a spacious suite with two bedrooms on opposite sides, a small kitchenette, and a cozy living area.

“This isn’t so bad,” Pedro said, dropping his bag by the door. He turned to you, his expression kind. “Do you have a preference for which room?”

You fidgeted with the strap of your bag. “Um, no, you can pick.”

“Ladies’ choice,” he insisted, his tone playful.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the room on the right. “I’ll take that one.”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

As you unpacked in your room, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You were sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal. For at least a week. And somehow, you had to act like a normal, functioning human being the entire time.

You took a deep breath and flopped over on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Letting out a huff of air in disbelief, you muttered to yourself, “This has to be some sort of dream… or prank, right?”

Placing both hands over your face, you rubbed it in exasperation. “Get your shit together, girl. No screwing things up, no more internal freakouts. He’s a person, like you. Mhm, sure. Yup. Totally fine.”

You sighed deeply, trying to convince yourself of your own words. The suite was spacious and nicely furnished, with plenty of room to keep your distance—but that didn’t stop your overactive imagination from running wild. Every interaction felt loaded with the possibility of embarrassing yourself, but you swore you’d keep it together.

To say people around the production crew had heard about your new roomie was an understatement.

The day before shooting began, you attended a pre-production meeting that covered everything: call sheet details, blocking and camera movement, technical requirements, and a bunch of safety protocols. It was standard procedure but felt ten times more overwhelming knowing your friends would tease you mercilessly.

You sat with your friends from the art department, trying to focus, but they weren’t making it easy. Archie, one of the lead set designers, leaned over with a smirk. “So, how’s life as Pedro Pascal’s roomie?”

You felt your face heat up instantly. “I—it’s not… it’s just temporary,” you stammered, fiddling with the edge of your notebook.

Stephanie, a costume designer with an endless supply of sass, raised an eyebrow. “Temporary or not, it’s the stuff of rom-coms, babe. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined a meet-cute scenario in that suite.”

“I have not!” you protested, though your flaming cheeks betrayed you. 

Will, an art director with a love for stirring the pot, chuckled. “Come on, you’ve gotta admit it’s a little… serendipitous? You, a huge fan, sharing a suite with the guy? Sounds like fate to me.”

“It’s not fate,” you insisted, trying to deflect. “It’s a logistical mistake, that’s all.”

Max, the trainee set dresser, chimed in with a grin. “Yeah, but a logistical mistake that’s got everyone talking. Even Steve heard about it, and he’s usually the last to know anything.”

Steve, the lighting technician, shrugged. “What can I say? Word travels fast. I’m just here to see how long it takes for Pedro to find out about your… fandom.”

“Oh my god, can we not?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “He’s going to think I’m a weirdo.”

Rebecca, a fellow production assistant and one of your closest friends, patted your shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, he seems like the kind of guy who’d find it endearing. Besides, you’ve been professional so far, right?”

You nodded hesitantly. “I think so. I mean, I haven’t said anything stupid yet.”

“Yet being the keyword,” Sophie teased, earning a laugh from the group.

Patricia, always the voice of reason, smiled warmly. “Just be yourself. You’re great at your job, and Pedro’s just another actor. A very charming actor, sure, but still just a person.”

“Thanks, Patricia,” you said, feeling slightly more grounded. But the anxiety still lingered, especially with everyone’s teasing reminders of your not-so-secret crush.

As the meeting wrapped up and you headed back to your tasks, you couldn’t shake the nervous excitement bubbling inside you. Sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal might’ve been a logistical mistake, but it was quickly turning into one of the most unreal experiences of your life.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL, LONDON — NIGHT

Dinner with the cast and crew had been lively, filled with laughter, and far too many knowing glances sent your way by your friends. The teasing hadn’t stopped, even over plates of pasta and glasses of wine.

Archie had leaned over at one point, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when Pedro walks out of the bathroom shirtless? Swoon or faint?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Archie!”

“I’m just saying,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a valid question.”

Stephanie smirked. “She’s probably rehearsing her ‘I’m totally cool and unaffected’ face right now.”

You groaned. “I hate all of you.”

Rebecca grinned. “No, you don’t. But seriously, just enjoy the moment. How many people can say they’ve shared a hotel room with Pedro Pascal?”

By the time the group had wandered back to the shuttle, your cheeks were sore from laughing, and your nerves were only slightly calmed. But as the cold London air nipped at your skin, you found yourself longing for the warmth of the hotel.

Your teeth chattered as you stepped off the shuttle, clutching your coat tighter around you. You didn’t like the cold very much, and London was very, very cold.

The moment you entered the hotel lobby, the warmth began to seep into your body, and you let out a sigh of relief. The elevator ride to your floor was quiet, your mind finally shutting down after a long evening of socializing. By the time you reached your room, you were operating on autopilot.

Tapping your keycard to the door, you quietly pushed it open, careful not to disturb Pedro if he was already asleep. It was just past 9:30 p.m., and you knew the early call time tomorrow would have him resting early.

You shut the door softly behind you, locking the deadbolt before shuffling into the room. You removed your coat, scarf, and shoes, swapping them for the fuzzy slippers you’d packed. The room was dimly lit, and you moved quietly, hoping not to make too much noise.

“Oh, you’re back.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, clutching your chest as your heart tried to escape it. Whipping around, you found Pedro lounging on the sofa, a book in his hands and a soft, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was wearing a plain white tee and gray sweatpants, his square-framed glasses perched on his nose, and he looked entirely too comfortable—like he belonged there. Like this was normal.

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you were still awake,” you said, voice breathless as you tried to recover from the scare.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. You were so quiet coming in, I thought maybe you were sneaking around.”

You set your things on the small table by the door, giving him an exasperated look. “I wasn’t sneaking around. I was trying not to wake you.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” He tilted his head, watching you with that relaxed air that somehow made you feel completely exposed. “How was dinner?”

“It was good,” you said, shrugging as you moved toward the kitchenette to grab a bottle of water. “Everyone was in high spirits, and the food was great. We took a little walk around the city before heading back.”

Pedro closed his book, setting it on the coffee table. “Sounds nice. London at night can be magical.”

“Yeah, it was.” You paused, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Though, I think I underestimated just how cold it gets here. My teeth were chattering the whole way back.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile softening. “Didn’t bring a warm enough coat?”

“I thought I did, but apparently not. I’m not built for this kind of weather,” you admitted with a laugh, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to stave off the lingering chill.

Pedro stood, crossing the room with an easy grace that made your breath hitch. “Well, we can’t have you freezing, can we?” He grabbed the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa and held it out to you. “Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simple gesture. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I just get cold really easily. Besides, I’ll warm up eventually.”

“Take it,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s not a big deal.”

Reluctantly, you took the blanket, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. It sent a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fabric now wrapped around your shoulders. “Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you.

“Better?” he asked, stepping back to give you space but still watching you with that disarmingly kind expression.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “Much. Thanks, Pedro.”

He smiled again, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was hanging there. But then he broke the silence, his voice light. “So, did they give you a hard time at dinner?”

Your face heated instantly. “What do you mean?”

He smirked, leaning casually against the back of the sofa. “I heard some of the cast talking earlier. Apparently, your friends in the art department have been… teasing you about the room situation.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh no. What exactly did you hear?”

“Nothing incriminating,” he said with a laugh. “Just that they’re convinced this is some kind of meet-cute scenario straight out of a rom-com.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, mortified. “I’m so sorry. They’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, his tone easy, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Your hands dropped to your sides, your eyes wide. “Flattering?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s nice to know someone thinks sharing a room with me is worth all that excitement.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to process the fact that Pedro Pascal—Pedro Pascal—was standing in front of you, teasing you in the most charming way possible.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Big day.”

He gave you one last smile before retreating to his side of the suite, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a head full of thoughts you were too scared to unpack.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — DAY  

You woke to the soft chime of your alarm, the faint glow of early morning light creeping through the curtains. Shuffling into the bathroom with a yawn, you turned on the shower, letting the warm water coax you into wakefulness. You placed your phone on the counter, tapping on a playlist to fill the small space with soft, melodic tunes—comforting background noise that kept your mind from spiraling too early in the day.  

After your shower, you toweled off and began your morning routine. Skincare applied with practiced ease, makeup brushed on with care, you avoided the mirror for too long, focusing instead on the growing anticipation of the day ahead. Pinning your ID to your lanyard, you glanced at your phone again.  

The group chat with your team was buzzing:  

Archie: "We’re fifteen minutes out. Don’t keep us waiting, queen 👑."  

Rebecca: "Text when you’re coming down!"  

Max: "Coffee run? Pls? 🙏"  

A small smile tugged at your lips as you tapped out a quick reply, your fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before you switched apps.  

Your heart did a little stutter as you opened your browser—a Joel Miller fanfic you’d been obsessing over still lingering on your screen. You skimmed the most recent chapter, your thumb pausing to scroll as you half-laughed at the absurdity of sneaking in a few paragraphs before a full day on set. You switched to the chat thread with your online friends, who were deep in a heated discussion about whether Joel would be the type to cook breakfast for his partner. You couldn’t help but chuckle, throwing in a quick, “He’d definitely make pancakes and act like it’s no big deal,” before locking your phone and setting it on the counter.  

Moving on autopilot, you padded into the small kitchenette, barefoot and still humming softly to the tune stuck in your head. You set the coffee machine to brew, pulling out a couple of mugs, a jar of Nutella, and some bread. Your hands moved with muscle memory, spreading the hazelnut spread on toast and slicing up a handful of fruit without a second thought. It wasn’t until the scent of coffee filled the air that you realized you’d made two plates of toast—one for you and one for Pedro.  

The realization struck at the same moment you heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you.  

“Morning.”  

His voice was low and warm, still carrying the huskiness of sleep. You froze, phone in one hand, butter knife in the other, as you turned to see Pedro leaning against the doorframe. His hair was adorably tousled, and he was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly put together. His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you, and you nearly dropped your phone in a panic.  

“Good morning,” you managed, your voice a little too high-pitched as you fumbled to lock your screen. The thought of him catching even a glimpse of what you’d been reading was enough to make your cheeks burn.  

Pedro glanced at the counter, taking in the toast, coffee, and neatly sliced fruit. “You made breakfast?”  

“Oh, uh—yeah.” You set your phone down and gestured awkwardly toward the spread. “I made you some coffee and toast with Nutella. I wasn’t sure if you’d want that, and there’s fruit, too. I was just about to cut some more, but obviously, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, and—”  

“Hey.” Pedro’s soft chuckle cut through your rambling, and when you met his gaze, he was looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”  

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the sincerity in his voice. “Oh. Yeah. No problem. It’s nothing, really.”  

He moved past you to grab a mug of coffee, the proximity sending your pulse into overdrive. As he poured himself a cup, you noticed his shoulders relaxed and his movements unhurried. He took a sip and let out a small, contented sigh.  

“Perfect,” he said, glancing over at you with a grin. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”  

Your laugh came out nervous and breathy. “I’m pretty sure this doesn’t count as spoiling. It’s just toast.”  

“Yeah, but it’s good toast,” he teased, holding up a slice as if to emphasize his point.  

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing slightly. The moment felt impossibly domestic—like a scene out of one of those fanfics you’d been reading. Only this time, it wasn’t Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with you. It was Pedro.  

And that was somehow even more surreal.  

Pedro leaned against the counter, his mug cradled in both hands. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. “So,” he started, his voice warm and casual, “what were you so engrossed in on your phone earlier? You looked ready to throw it out the window when I walked in.”  

Your stomach flipped, and you tried to play it cool, even though you were fairly certain your face was now several shades of red. “Oh, nothing,” you lied, brushing a crumb off the counter. “Just the group chat. You know how chaotic they are.”  

Pedro tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Mm-hmm. Sure it wasn’t something more... intriguing?”  

You swallowed hard, gripping your coffee cup a little tighter. “Intriguing?”  

He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling with mischief over the rim of his mug. “You tell me.”  

“It’s nothing!” you blurted out, a little too defensively. “Just—just boring stuff. Work stuff.”  

“Work stuff,” he repeated slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Because people laugh at boring work stuff while making toast.”  

You groaned, setting your mug down as you ran a hand over your face. “Can we not? Please? I’m already mortified enough.”  

Pedro chuckled, the sound low and teasing but not unkind. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it go... for now.” He set his mug on the counter and raised his hands in mock surrender. “But you owe me a story later. Deal?”  

You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “Depends on how much coffee you’ve had by then. I might need you slightly less smug for that conversation.”  

His grin widened, and he leaned closer, just enough to make your heart stutter. “Smug? I prefer charming. But I’ll take it under advisement.”  

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. The playful banter made the room feel lighter, warmer.  

By the time you both finished your coffee, the atmosphere had shifted into something comfortable and easy. You quickly rinsed the dishes, your hands moving on autopilot as Pedro lingered nearby, chatting about everything and nothing.  

As you dried your hands, your phone buzzed on the counter, and you glanced at the screen.  

Rebecca: “Bus is almost there. Better get your cute butt down here!”  

You shot back a quick reply: “On my way.” Turning to Pedro, you grabbed your bag and gestured toward the door. “I’ve got to head down. My shuttle’s waiting.”  

Pedro grabbed his own bag and trailed after you. “I’ll walk down with you. I’ve got my own ride coming, but they’re always late.”  

The two of you stepped into the elevator, the hum of its descent filling the silence. The confined space suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken tension.  

Pedro stood close—too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you pressed the strap of your bag tighter against your shoulder, hoping it would anchor you somehow.  

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost intimate in the stillness of the elevator. “What’s the plan for today?”  

You glanced at him, his brown eyes watching you closely, the curve of his smile softer now. “Same as usual, I guess,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Make sure everything runs smoothly while you and everyone else look good on camera.”  

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You make it sound so simple, but I know you’re the one holding it all together.”  

His words caught you off guard, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I just do my job.”  

“And you do it damn well,” he said, his tone sincere now, no teasing edge in sight.  

The elevator dinged as it reached the lobby, breaking the moment. Pedro gestured for you to step out first, and you did, your pulse still racing.  

“Thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure if you were thanking him for his compliment or just for letting you escape the charged space of the elevator.  

As you spotted your shuttle waiting outside, you turned to him, suddenly aware of how reluctant you were to leave. “I’ll see you on set?”  

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer than necessary. “Yeah. See you soon.”  

You stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your face as you walked toward the shuttle. But even as you climbed aboard and found a seat, your mind was still back in that elevator, replaying every glance, every word, every spark.

End Notes:

Oh hi! I missed doing these silly bits; I thought to bring ‘em back. But, don’t worry, I’ll try to yap less haha

Yes, it’s super cliche, cheesy, unrealistic, and practically a hallmark movie in the making. But that’s the fun part in fanfiction and writing, it’s all made up and no one here is allowed to “yuck” each other’s “yum” if you know what I mean. ;)

Also, I have no idea how production for film works so I’m researching stuff and making stuff up along the way pls no one come after me T^T

Weirdly enough, I saw a reddit post from someone who works at the front of the hotel desk and they say the one-bed trope/one-room trope; it actually happens pretty frequently lol so who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca

[daeniradraconis]

Banter Between the Lines - Hughes Brothers

Author's Note: Hey, so here’s another quick chat-style piece! I haven’t had much time to sit down and write properly lately, so short and sweet it is for now. 😊 Feel free to send me some requests if you’d like! (You can check out the "rules" here: link). I can’t promise when I’ll get to them, but I’ll definitely find time soon.

Summary: A little fluff with a touch of smut (nothing too crazy, just some extra flirting). Quinn’s girlfriend roasts the boys while calling them out in their group chat.

Warnings: Nothing major, just some mention of 🍆.

It was one of those quiet Sunday nights where everything felt slow. You'd spent the evening catching up on your favorite shows, but it was hard to concentrate when all you could think about was Quinn. The constant distance between you two had become harder to ignore with each passing day, and as much as you loved how happy he was with his team, you missed him. And, truthfully, you missed the whole family.

You’d gotten close to Jack and Luke over the years, and now, with Quinn playing for the Vancouver Canucks and Jack and Luke together on the New Jersey Devils, the family dynamic felt a little more spread out than you liked. Sure, they’d all make time for you when they could, but it wasn’t the same as those days when you’d all hang out together.

Tonight, instead of a call or a quick text, you decided to turn to something a little more familiar. You opened up youtube and searched for their latest highlights.

All three of them were struggling on the ice, and it showed. It hurt to see them like this, especially when you couldn’t do much to help. So you did what you always did in times like these—opened the group chat and prepared to roast them into oblivion. If nothing else, it might make them laugh.

you: just finished your highlights. Quinn, congrats on being the saddest guy on the ice again 🥇. Jack, loved the mini tantrum energy 👏. Luke, did you forget which team you play for? because those turnovers were next-level.

Jack: wow, you really woke up and chose violence.

you: always. someone has to keep you humble.

Luke: humble? this feels more like a personal attack.

Quinn: what would you call it, then?

Luke: bullying.

you: oh, Lukey, don’t take it so hard. I tease because I care 💕

Jack: you literally plotted my ex’s demise last month. is that “caring” too?

you: first of all, it wasn’t a plot. it was more of a… fantasy.

Quinn: putting her in the ground “while she’s still breathing” doesn’t sound like a fantasy…

you: listen, if she hadn’t been such a manipulative little snake, I wouldn’t have had to consider it 🐍

Luke: terrifying. but honestly? fair.

Jack: I could’ve handled her myself, you know.

you: oh, really? because from where I was sitting, she had you wrapped around her finger like a puppet.

Quinn: she’s not wrong!

Jack: whose side are you on?

Quinn: hers. always.

you: damn right honey. and don’t worry, I’m not plotting her demise anymore… unless she tries to come back. then all bets are off.

Jack: remind me to never date again. you’re scarier than Quinn’s slap shot.

You grinned as the banter flew back and forth, but your focus shifted to Luke. His disastrous date still didn’t sit right with you.

you: okay, but seriously, Lukey. I've heard some gossip. how does a girl ditch you mid-dinner? you’re literally the sweetest human alive.

Luke: THANK YOU! finally, someone gets it.

Jack: don’t encourage him. he needs to toughen up.

you: excuse me? let him be sweet! not every guy needs to have your level of 'I’m too cool for feelings,' Jack.

Quinn: valid point.

Luke: thank you, Quinn.

you: honestly, Luke, I’ll never understand how she left. did you say something weird?

Luke: no!!! I was perfectly normal.

Quinn: “normal” is a stretch…

Jack: is this really the same guy who told a girl on a first date he’d make six different accounts just to sort himself into Hufflepuff six different times because he didn’t 'trust the algorithm'?

Luke: OKAY, THAT’S DIFFERENT. I was being honest!

you: oh, Lukey. you’re lucky you’re adorable because that is painful 😂

Luke: this is why I didn’t want to tell you guys.

Quinn: bro, it’s fine. just embrace the awkward puppy vibe. it’s clearly your brand.

Luke: I hate you.

Jack: ugh, why does he get the sympathy? roast him more guys!!! I can’t be the only one taking L’s here.

you: because Luke doesn’t put ketchup on his eggs like a serial killer, Jack.

Luke: yeah, what is WRONG with you? ketchup on eggs? really?

Jack: you people are so dramatic. it’s normal.

Quinn: nothing about that is normal.

you: thank you, Quinn. once again, the only rational person in this chat.

Jack: stop flirting with my brother. it’s disgusting.

Luke: seriously. I can feel the weird vibes through my phone.

You smirked, knowing exactly how to push their buttons.

you: you’re just mad because Quinn’s risotto is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

Quinn: best risotto AND lasagna. don’t forget!

you: how could I? it’s the only reason I keep you around. And of course your magic 🍆

Quinn: oh, not my sparkling personality? btw you're objectifying my body...

you: hmm… maybe that too. but i have my priorities straight!

Jack: 🤢 STOP. this is disgusting.

Luke: seriously. this is TMI guys!!

you: just jealous, you two can’t even scramble eggs properly.

Quinn: cooking skills = key to a woman’s heart.

Luke: ugh. golden child strikes again.

Jack: some of us don’t need to cook because we have charisma, thank you very much.

Quinn: does your charisma excuse ketchup on eggs? because it shouldn’t.

Luke: still the biggest red flag in this chat.

Jack: Y’ALL ARE SO DRAMATIC.

You smiled at their bickering, your heart full, untouched by their chaos.

you: okay, but for real… I miss you guys 💔.

Luke: aww, finally some love.

Jack: are you feeling okay?!

you: don’t get used to it. but yeah, I miss you. Quinn, risotto night when you’re home! Jack and Luke, you can come eat it too.

Quinn: deal. but I’m ignoring them for the first hour I’m back. i need my time with you!

Luke: RUDE!

Jack: gross. is this the flirting portion of the chat? can we not?

you: love you too, boys. even if you’re disasters.

Jack: love you too. now stop flirting with Quinn before I puke.

Luke: seriously. save it for your own chat.

Quinn: jealousy doesn’t look good on you two.

Luke: jealous of what? your cooking? maybe. your 🍆? absolutely not.

you: you should be Lukey! your brother got some great 🍆

Jack: I’m OUT.

Luke: same.

Quinn: good job hon. guess it’s just us now. you: just how I like it 😘

[midnite-c6]

I also wpuld like to be thanos' and nam-gyu's dog ngl! idk nam-gyu just seems like a regular to pet shop and the cashier asks how's your precious girl how's your puppy!! as he's buying some treats and he's muttering yeah real lovely we've been doing some obedience training because she's been troublesome lately.. nam-gyu getting you a dusty pink collar and leash save me..

WOOOF PURRR HISSS BARKK YOURE SO RIGHT its actually so filthy the things id let these two do huhuhuhuhuhu . feral rn.

nam-gyu x puppy!reader | thanos x puppy!reader warnings: 18+, DARK content, degradation, sex, READER HAS EARS AND A TAIL!!

nsfw below already -> !!

nam-gyu ʕ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ

he sighs, "she's been making more messes lately." the pet supplies owner would just laugh at the statement, "oh, sir, you should get used to it by now. but, i thought you've already trained her?" she asks, considering he was a regular, afterall. "i did, but she's been acting a bit more stubborn recently, maybe she just needs a collar now, it's been long overdue." the shop owner would only nod and smile. "ah yes, you should've bought her one when you first got her! a collar helps the dog know who it belongs to, and who is its owner." he chuckles, seemingly lost in thought as he grabs the plastic bag with the pretty pink collar and the matching leash he generously bought you, he bows his head. "well, miss, i'll get going now, thank you." as he heads out the door, the woman could only think how much of a sweet boy he is, taking in the responsibility in taking care of a cute puppy..

except, the puppy was you! like it always has. you'd see him come back, opening the door as you immediately cling onto him, "on your knees, go." he orders, and you immediately comply! you love him so much! and when he puts the pretty collar he bought for you, seeing how his name was engraved on the pendant, you'd truly know who you belong to. now he's easily gotten you into a doggy (ironically) position, he wasn't even moving, the only thing he was doing is tugging on your leash to get you to push in and out of him. you'd obviously choke, but he knows he's trained you at taking a lil' bit more. "ah.. fuck, move will you? my hands are getting tired from tugging you around." but it takes all your energy to move, you were too sensitive down there.

"you don't want me to donate you to the doggy pound, would you now?" "n-no, sir .!" you didn't want that!! you loved nam-gyu as your owner :< "then, do as i say, dog."

nam-gyu was a bit cruel on you, yes, but he wouldn't go as far as be careless with you... he's kept you to be a home dog, only meant to be sheltered.

thanos ʕ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ

thanos- on the other hand, oh this man is careless with you:< he'd literally treat you like a puppy on the street! he's too busy with clubbing, partying, smoking weed, and being a famous rapper, he forgets his time with you. the nicest thing he does though is he'd buy you pretty clothes, pretty lingerie, but sadly you barely catch glimpse of him when he's sober. he's always high and thankfully happy, but when he's high and not-so-happy... well...

when he comes back from clubbing all night, you'd hear the door finally open, it was your beloved su-bong!! you'd immediately pepper kisses all over his cheeks but he'd push you to the ground. it seems he might've gotten into a fight at the club, or worse, he'd meet the person that scammed him, and you could only whimper, knowing that the best stress reliever is you. and whenever you wag your tail in excitement for anything, it just makes him hard as hell.

he'd have you face down, ass up, so he'd have full view of the wagging tail that was wagging just for him! he doesn't need a leash, he could just painfully tug on your tail! now his hand was pressing a vape past his lips, whilst the other was pressing your head down to the pillows, he loves hearing your muffled moans because you're still so loud even with them! volume down, will you? his dick wet with your slick, his thrusts going from fast and rough to slow and still rough, "are you in heat?" you'd try your best to shake your head. "jeez, you bitch like one" he complains, a particularly harder thrust than the last. even leaning in to take a painful bite onto your puppy ears. "i should definitely train you more, right, princess?" wasn't having his cum dripping out of both your holes enough?? D:

bonus:

you'd obviously only be loyal to one, but if they raised you together, then.. they've trained you to be loyal for the two of them, you can't have one without the other, and when you're too impatient, already humping su-bong before nam-gyu gets home, he'd punish you for that !

HEHEHE I REALIZED I HAVE SM HEOMWORKS THAT I have NOT DONE BYEE.

[neovillains]

DEATHBED | PART TWO

( HE'S NO DEADBEAT : NANAMI KENTO ) nanami believed he raised his son well, only for him to turn into a deadbeat right in front of his eyes. don't worry, he'll make it up to you. | watch time: 3.8k words.

── gilf!nanami & fem-bodied!reader, she/her pronouns, single mother!reader, adopted grandfather!nanami, deadbeat!yuuji itadori, high age gap, cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, multiple (2) orgasms, creampie, pussyjob, etc.

note. i am going so feral over my own series. like,,, i want to gnaw on the skin of gilf nanami so bad !

“I just don’t understand,” Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he throws his head back in the stress of all this. “You told me a couple of months ago that you love the girl. Now, you’re going back on your word the moment the child’s born? This is not the man I raised you to be.”

“Yeah, well,” Yuuji mumbles on the other line. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, but I just— I don’t think I’m cut out to be a father. I didn’t— I didn’t—”

“You didn’t realize how much responsibility it would be?” Nanami finishes for him. “How old are you again? I thought we were over this conversation the moment you left for college.”

“Why are you giving me so much shit?” Yuuji groans, voice getting more agitated the more his adopted father continues to chastise him. “(Y/N) and I had already had a discussion about things and I would financially provide for the child. That should be enough.”

“That should be enough?” Nanami scoffed, baffled by the words of the pink-haired fool on the other line. He could tell that Yuuji was still naive and idiotic to think that money would be the only thing that you needed to provide for a child all on your own. “What about doctor appointments? Emergencies at school and (Y/N) having to call off work to get them— did you consider instances like that? One person isn’t supposed to juggle the job of two.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll be fine,” Yuuji hums. “You’ve done it with me—”

Nanami couldn’t take anymore of it, pulling the phone from his ears and immediately clicking on the red button to end the call. With a sigh, he brings himself out of the kitchen and towards the leather recliner that’s starting to fade. The burnt umber starting to dull in its color and having more of an orange hue to it. Relaxing in the seat as he leans back, he shuts his eyes. Over the years, he’s finally gotten a chance to relax. Slaving away in an office for hours and hours nearly everyday and coming home to provide for a young Yuuji, it’s brought a toll on his body. Gradually letting himself go, his stomach has grown a bit more pudge to it and the blond of his hair has completely dissipated to white. 

When Yuuji had found you, bringing you home to meet his father, he was happy for his son. You were such a sweet person who managed to handle Yuuji’s outgoing nature. You were someone who could provide him stability, something that Yuuji was in dire need of. However, Nanami should’ve seen this coming when the two of you had been together for ten years and he never mentioned the idea of dropping down to one knee. 

“Fuck,” Nanami curses as he rubs circles into the temples of his forehead. He thought that at some point Yuuji would get it. That he’s no longer a child and has responsibilities to tend to. But instead, he’s still running from adulthood instead of embracing it, coming to terms with it, and stop solely feeding into his inner child. Though it could be a gruesome thing, aging did have its perks. It was sad to see that his son didn’t seem to find that within you and his son. 

He wondered how you were doing. How you truly were doing. Reaching for his phone, he had never called you so periodically before. However, when he heard that you were pregnant, he wanted to be a present grandfather. But when he heard how Yuuji had broken your heart after so many years together, he felt ashamed to have ties with the younger lad. 

Last contacted: Two Weeks Ago.

With a heavy sigh, he presses the call button and waits. He’s expecting you to decline the call but after four rings, your voice— soft— sounds from the other line. “Hello? Nanami?”

“Hello, (Y/N). How’ve you been?”

—

You’re a very eclectic person. That’s what Nanami has learned about you from over the years. When you and Yuuji moved in together, you had taken over all aspects of interior design, having a more maximalist approach to things as countertops were littered with drinkets and pieces that were so vibrant and full of color. He couldn’t tell what your style was— bohemian chic with a mixture of rustic and historical? You mismatched a lot of things, but they always seemed to be coordinated in some sort of way. In the end, your home was an organized chaos that he’s come to admire. 

However, as he sits down on your couch, half of those decoratives and staples to your home are gone. Packed away in boxes as you’re ready to raise a child. Conversations between the two of you were short and brief, that light in your eye that he’s so accustomed to is starting to blow out and he can’t help but feel guilty for the role he has to play in this. 

“How’ve you been holding up, (Y/N)?” He asks out of the blue. “And be truthful with me. Don’t worry about me relaying the message back to Yuuji because I’m not— if that’s what you’re worried about.”

For the first time in the two hours he’s been here, you chuckle. The newborn laying on your chest as you rock your little boy to sleep, you shake your head as the corner of your lips rise. “I’m not worried about that, trust me. I’m just trying to think about that as much as possible, to be honest. It’s been a rough couple of days. With postpartum and everything, it’s taking a toll on me while I’m trying to keep it together.”

“Has he been sleeping well?” Nanami gestures to the baby. “If you need any help with him, you know I’ll be here as much as I possibly can.”

“You know,” you hum. “He’s really not that bad. I don’t want to jinx it, but he’s been good at night. The days, too. He’s been easy so far.”

“Probably because he can detect what you’re going through,” he lets out the comment absentmindedly before clearing his throat. “It’s good that he’s not giving you much trouble though. All you need is easy right now.” 

By the fourth hour, Nanami removed himself from your home. Seeing him out, you were about to shut the door when he stopped abruptly. “And I mean it, (Y/N). Call me if you ever need help. Don’t try to do everything on your own. I’ll be there for you as much as I possibly can.”

Your eyes glisten with tears as you nod. “Thanks, Nanami. I really appreciate that.”

—

Nanami had taken the initiative to do what Yuuji couldn’t. Making regular visits to you to spend time with you and help with the baby as much as he can. Months passed by and gradually you were forgetting about Yuuji. Even with Nanami in your presence, you no longer cared about the guy you had been with for ten years as the older man seemed to be filling this void inside of you as you didn’t feel alone. And when Yuuji would call, you’d always keep conversation short as your voice gained a bit more pep and you were able to get more decent amounts of sleep. 

There was something stirring inside of you when Nanami was around. It was like he made the sun shine brighter. 

Was this right— to be on the verge of developing plausible feelings for your son’s grandfather, your ex’s father? Adopted father, your brain corrected. Nonetheless, Nanami raised Yuuji as if he was his own. Were you just trying to fill that hollow void inside of you that was yearning for connection?

You loved Yuuji. He was childish and didn’t want to hold any responsibility, oftentimes making you do the brunt of things. Truthfully, you shouldn’t have stayed so long. But, you loved him. His childishness made you smile, his want for fun made the days go faster. However, you ended up getting the short end of the stick because of his ways. But still, you loved Yuuji.

Nanami was a tie to Yuuji. And whatever that was going on in your mind was still tied down to Yuuji. 

The pipe was running for far too long that it called for Nanami’s attention. Stepping inside of the kitchen, he stands behind you and reaches to turn off the pipe. He looks down at you when you jump, your back hitting into his chest. Making eye contact, you smile sheepishly as he looks down at you in concern. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t ask if there’s something wrong, he knows that something is. And in the whirlwind of your mind, you blurt, “I think it’s best if you go now.”

The immediate switch up is perplexing, catching Nanami off guard as he instinctively takes a step back. “Huh— did I do something wrong?”

“No, but— but I think it’s best if you stop your little visits,” you continue on, turning your back away from him as you grab the sponge, squirting soap on it. 

“(Y/N), talk to me.”

“I don’t think I want to talk anymore.”

“I don’t care if you don’t want to talk anymore, you’re going to,” he pulls at your wrist, dragging you away from the sink. “Tell me what’s with the abrupt decisions?”

“I—I—” you groan in frustration, flinging yourself against Nanami as you pull him in for a kiss. It lasts for only a second before he’s pushing you off of him, trying to collect his thoughts and understand what just happened. Your face heats up feeling like a complete fool. 

“I’m so sorry. I just— This is why you need to—” However, before you can even finish your sentence, he’s pulling you back into his embrace. The warmth of his body makes you melt as you taste his lips, fingers scrunching in the baby blue t-shirt hanging off his body. The tension from inside of you is relieved as your hand goes to drape around his neck as you let out the slightest of moans. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva following.

Nanami’s brown eyes stare into you, no longer filled with the youth of his younger days like how you’ve seen in his photo albums. However, you can see how they brighten up with you in his hold. In a low and raspy voice, “If this was what you were scared about, I would’ve assured you a long time ago that you’re safe with me.”

He plants another wet and chaste kiss on your lips, adding, “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to take care of you for the rest of the years I have.”

With your son fast asleep, the two of you become so enamoured in each other’s lust that reality slips past. Nanami’s veiny hands grip onto your hips with purpose and pull you closer into him. From the time he’s been spending with you, you’ve made him realize how much he’s missed out on companionship. How he had been so occupied with work and providing for Yuuji that he never took the chance to really connect with anyone. Aside from the occasional women and a few sporadic dates, his life was one of loneliness. Your lips are soft and full of life, transporting him back to his late twenties— blond hair and unblemished skin, green-tinted spectacles that hid his beautiful coffee-toned eyes. He was stressed out then, but imagine if he had found someone like you back then? Closer in age and held the same stupor that would make him realize his mistakes much sooner, he wouldn’t have ended up in the predicament he is in now. Kissing on a girl that’s nearly half his age, the mother of his grandson. He should feel ashamed of himself— disgusted— but his body craves this. Craves you. 

You manage to guide him to your bedroom without his knowing, his mind so preoccupied that the moment you gently shut the door, he’s disoriented. The two of you have moved so seamlessly in the heat of things that it makes this all too real. But still, even when you’re sitting on the edge of the bed and he’s climbing over your body, he can’t stop himself. Lust-blown eyes that gaze into yours, he breathes heavily. “You’d willingly love an old man like me?”

“Yes,” you breathe with a faint nod. “Need someone to take care of me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Nanami breathes. “You’d let an old man use this beautiful body of yours— ruin it with his old cock?”

You go to cup his face, eyes gleaming when you say, “You could never do that, Kento.”

He grounds his erection into your covered heat, pressing his lips down on yours before haughtily saying, “Oh, but I want to.” 

And your eyes say it all, giving him permission as you feel the fire that ignites in between your legs. Arousal continues to build up as Nanami’s breathing gets heavier. Aging lines that protrude the skin, cheeks sucked and exhausted eyes that reflect those many years of labor. You remember the words of your ex telling you about him, speaking so highly of his father and how he worked endlessly. Yuuji always said that his father needed a break, and finally does it feel like he is. Spending leisure time buried inside of your pussy.

Nanami knows he has to be careful not to strain the bones inside of his body, knowing that one bad ache can be detrimental. However, he’s eager— way too eager to have a taste. Traversing down your body, he stops himself at the hem of your shorts. One leg on the floor with the other knee pressing into the mattress of the bed, he grabs at the elastic of it and slowly drags it down. Your hips rise up from the sheets as your thighs press together before he’s flinging the two garments down to the ground. Your body was slowly getting back to what you used to recognize it for. After going through labor, your stomach had felt like it became a deflated balloon, gaining more and more stretch marks than you originally had. When you took Nanami up on his offer to help you, he encouraged you to get out of the house as much as you can. It had helped, but you were still coming to terms with the new you.

However, with every gentle touch that Nanami places on your body, it feels like nothing has changed. The way he caresses your waist, gently tugging you down to his lips. Hands pushing at the hem of your shirt and making it rise as your stomach is exposed. The gentle kiss to your left inner thigh and the soft rub to your stomach is a simple gesture that makes sparks fly. He spreads your legs slowly, but his eyes glued on yours as his hands come to travel higher up. He’s so close to you, his breath dancing over your pussy as he mumbles, moreso to himself than to you, “God, so beautiful.”

Simple gestures and simple words that give you enough validation as you say his name, Kento. Your legs tense up before relaxing, your body beginning to jitter the more he gets so transfixed with it. It’s only for the palm of his hand to stop and relax you before spreading you open even further. “Don’t get shy on me now, love. I’ll take care of you, just like you need to be.”

The first kiss to your lips is short, a simple taste test to your nectar— you’re the finest honey he’s ever tasted. Your arousal has him addicted, pressing his nose into your clit as he inhales your scent. Intoxicating and tantalizing, he finds himself getting lost in a matter of seconds. Your body shudders, making your spine arch with the way his tongue presses down into your warmth. One hand digging into your sheets while the next knots inside of his hair, pulling at the thinning strands of his scalp. However, he couldn’t care less as he finds himself impeccably lost. Your short tugs has him moaning, a sign of encouragement for you to continue those savoury sounds as his hand goes in search for the next to guide it where it belongs. 

With both of your hands tangled in what used to be blond, your legs trap him inside your heat as his arms wrap around your waist. There’s an ache settling inside of his legs, but he keeps himself still as his pink tongue prods at your folds. You’re a mewling mess as your eyes are shut and basking in this bliss. Your breathing becomes heavy as you can only think of the man making you feel so good. You gnaw on your bottom lip in hopes to ground yourself as his tongue swirls against your labia, nose nuzzling into your clit as he presses the muscle deeper and deeper within you. 

Wet sounds start to seep within the air as Nanami’s not caught up for breath once as you’ve got each other locked in each other’s hold. His moans are deep and from the soul, his arms tightening around your waist as he can feel it before you can. That coil deep within your body, shortly undoing and bringing you to the brink. Arousal dressing his taste buds, your juices continue to seep out as your back arches off the bed and your fingers get tighter. “K-Ken… Kento!”

“I know,” he pulls up for a first. “And I’ve got you.”

Nanami tips you over the edge, knocking you out of breath the moment he presses a finger to your clit. A high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth as you close your eyes shut and cry out in pleasure. “Kento, ohmigosh!”

You drag out a long-winded ‘oh,’ building up pride in the older man as a smirk graces his lips as he laps up your orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your upper body falls back into the sheets and your chin points to the ceiling. Your breath is ragged as you slowly fall from your high and feel the bed shuffle. A deep groan settles from off of his chest as Nanami has to take a moment to stretch out his limbs. He reaches to pull off his shirt and undo his pants, the tight-fitted boxer briefs resting on his lower half when your eyes start to flutter open once more. Chest rising and falling, you admire the chub of the man before you. 

He dropped the habit of working out in his early sixties the moment he realized the amount of strain it was putting on his body. And no longer did he care for it, not bothering to wake up in the early mornings or get ready in the evenings for it. Instead, he opted in for daily walks and called it a day. But even those had become a biweekly hobby. He was no longer sharp and strong as he used to be, but the remnants of it and the roundness of his body was more comforting than ever. Eyes lingering to the bulge inside of his undergarments, you ogled at the size of it, white hairs leading down to it. Inching towards you, he brought your attention to his face. Your glossy eyes no longer transfixed on the length hiding under the elastic cloth as he inched down to you. One hand cupping your face as he breathes heavily, giving you a once over. 

“My son,” he starts before clearing his throat. “My son never knew how to handle a woman like you.”

It was gradual. You didn’t know when he had managed to slip free of his underwear. “Could’ve never taken care of a woman like you.” 

You didn’t know when he managed to hike your legs up over his waist, his tip kissing at your clit and making you absentmindedly shudder. “That’s why you need me.”

It isn’t until you feel the press of his cock head inching inside of your heat that you’re taken out of your trance, your mouth falling open into an ‘O’ as a whimper leaves your lips. “Only I can take care of you. Be everything my son isn’t— a man.” 

“Yeah,” you agree with a meek nod, feeling the intrusion of his cock seer through you. 

“Yeah?” Nanami hums, pressing deeper and deeper into you until he’s fully sheathed. His breathing staggers a bit before regaining control. “I’m the only man you need. The only man that can give you what you need, hm?”

“Yes, Kento,” you whine and whimper, feeling how he pauses to get you acclimated. “I only need you. You’re perfect for me.”

One more chaste kiss before he’s pulling out of you, the head prodding at your entrance. A thought he’s unaware he’s said out loud, And you’re perfect for me. 

His length is thick and stretches open your walls, making you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt with any of your past partners. His hips don’t move with that same motion he had in his younger years. No longer languid movements, but growing rougher in age. Each thrust is calculated and hard against your pussy. His deep groans and grunts make your mind spiral and your eyes constantly flutter as each sound spills from his mouth. At some point, he comes to hold your face and does nothing else. A small and simple gesture that makes you melt into him. 

Your pussy, while used, sucks him up in a tight grip that doesn’t make him want to ever leave it. He finds himself stuck at the thought of leaving the sweetness that it is, your cunt a gift to him from heavens themself. Your hands wrap around his neck, nails digging into his fragile skin and sure to bruise as your legs tense up around him, his eyes flutter shut. “Gosh, it’s like your pussy was made for me to enjoy.”

And when he brings you to orgasm, you entrap him with your legs and call for his release as well. You milk of what he’s worth, letting him empty himself out into you without any concerns of the repercussions. You let out high-pitched mewls and moans when he rolls to the other side of the bed, having to take a moment to catch his breath. However, with your body running ablaze, a heat still sparked inside of you, you tiredly move yourself to hover over his frame and catch him off guard. “Wha— What are you doing?” 

“I need more of you.” The tip of his cock still leaking his seed and your pussy dripping of your intermingled cum, you press your cunt against his length. Grinding yourself against his softening length in hopes to liven him up again, you watch as he chuckles exhaustedly. “A pretty thing like you will surely lead me to my deathbed.”

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[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[4:47 am]

(cw: wife!reader)

CEO!Johnny had been mad since the second he heard about this early meeting. That was a week ago. Well, not mad, more like pouty. For a few months now he’d gotten used to going into the office a little later so that he could have his mornings with you. Nothing too crazy, just a half hour later, but after all the hard work he’d put in for the company, he felt he deserved the half hour with his wife. The mornings were blissful, waking up and cuddling with you. Following that up with coffee and breakfast together and bidding each other goodbye with a kiss before heading in your respective directions.

But today, today felt like hell. He was up before the sun was coming up, waking up while bakers were still baking for the morning rush, while children were still fast asleep and in dreamland before going to school. Getting ready before you were even thinking about waking up. Hell, you were deep in rem sleep right now.

A part of him wanted to be selfish and wake you up. At the very least, to have your company. He wouldn’t force you out of the warmth of your shared bed. He just missed you… and today would be a long day. Going in early to talk to overseas investors and spending the rest of the day finalizing reports for the end of the quarter. He was already tired of it all.

Johnny dragged his feet while he sipped his coffee and willed the caffeine to kick in. He was bone tired. He had even stolen some of your under eye patches to help with the puffiness under his eyes. He sighed tiredly, tying his tie and fixed his hair one last time.

He turned off the light in the bathroom and padded across the bedroom to your sleeping form. He pressed a kiss to your forehead whispering a quiet, “have a good day, baby.”

He wishes he could say he felt accomplished since he had been awake so early and working almost as long. He talked to the investors, he got a lot of paperwork done, and he drank a lot of coffee. And still he didn’t feel good knowing his soft mornings with his wife had been torn away.

So it came it as no surprise when your FaceTime call came in at your usual wake up and get ready hour. He smiled brightly as his thumb slid across the screen to answer your call. He was met with your pouty face surrounded with the white sheets of your shared bed, “you didn’t wake me up.”

Johnny laughs, “baby, it was like 5 in the morning! Good morning though, how are you?”

“I dunno,” you grumble, “my husband doesn’t love me so…”

Johnny chuckles softly, slumping back in his very expensive desk chair, “I do love you. I love you so much that I didn’t interrupt your sleep. I did consider it though.”

“If you really loved me you’d have woken me up,” you argue playfully.

“I think you’ll love me when you see what I left you in the kitchen,” Johnny tells you, lifting his brows with a smirk.

He watches you move through the halls, hair messy and free. He watches your eyes light up when you saw the surprise he’d left for you. “Breakfast and coffee. Wow, I guess you do love me,” you tease, “thank you though, baby. I appreciate it.”

“I think you’ll also be happy to know that I’ll be home early today. I haven’t told anyone yet, but I will be. I deserve it after waking up at 4 in the morning."

"I don't think your secretary would approve of that," you chide, arching your brow a him through the camera.

"Well, she wasn't here at 5 in the morning was she? Plus, she'll like it when she gets to go home early too," Johnny yawns, "I'll pick up dinner on the way home, baby. Have a good day. You off to work?"

You shake your head with a smile, "nope, took the day off. I'll see you later. I love you."

"I love you too," Johnny responds before hanging up. Damn, he should have taken the day off too, especially since his CFO was more than capable of doing this on their own. He drags a tired hand down his face, he was definitely going to put in for a long vacation and it you off to some resort where you both could spend the whole day in bed if you wanted to.

[tsuutarr]

Begging and pleading for more content of that little elf freak 🙏🏻🙏🏻

you're so right, he's a freak lmaooo

so ofc he needs a nsfw continuation!! first part is here for anyone that wants it~

Yandere! Elf (Reol Mahija) x afab! Reader

When Reol had worked on his little secret… experiment involving you, Reol had no idea that you would come to him for help. Oh, but he’s not complaining. On the contrary, the mere thought that you trust him does things to him – it makes heat pool in his belly, makes his fingers tingle.

So of course Reol agrees to help you. How can he refuse you when you look so cute? So sweet?

This does put him in a little predicament, however, but Reol is nothing if not a genius, so it isn’t too hard to find a work around.

He’ll provide you with some false solutions, like drinking chamomile tea before breakfast or wearing certain colors, that seem to work for a bit, before your little issue springs to life again. He’s found that doing this is a lot more satisfying than teasing you every night – you’re both so much more sensitive if he’s left you alone for a week or so.

Plus, he managed to sneak in a little camera the last time you invited him to your room. Now, he can watch you squirm and moan as he uses his pocket pussy to tease your hole open with his long fingers. Your voice is so sweet, your expression is so alluring – oh, how can you tempt him like this?

It’s gotten to the point where this isn’t enough. It’s not enough, not anymore.

So, of course, Reol uses his brain to think of his next plan. It’s foolproof, surely, he thinks as he feels you clench around his fingers as you cum. With a low moan, Reol strokes his cock a few more times, before he spills into his hand, his shoulders shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm. You always feel so good, always so perfect for him. So can you blame him for wanting more?

So, yes, his plan will work. He’ll make sure of it.

“What?” you ask the next day, cheeks hot from Reol’s words. It’s not just the content that has thrown you off guard, but the way he’s said it, too – so blunt and to the point. How is he not embarrassed?!

“As stated, your problem doesn’t seem to be resolving despite the numerous attempts we have made,” he responds, looking calm as he always does. There’s no way for you to know how intensely his heart seems to be beating inside his chest. He thinks he's going to go into cardiac arrest at this rate. “So, it’d be best if I took a look, don’t you agree? It’ll help me better understand your situation.” 

“W–well, yeah, I guess, but…” you gulp, looking at the floor, unable to look into his eyes.

“We do not have to do anything you do not wish to.” Reol looks contemplative, though he’s inwardly panicking, desperate for your agreement. “But I have no leads currently, so it’s quite difficult to find more solutions.”

You bite your bottom lip and Reol can only watch you nervously. He’s done what he can to nudge you – it’s your turn to say yes or no.

Finally, after what seems like years, you look at him. “...Okay, yeah, you’re right,” you agree, looking determined despite your embarrassment. “I trust you, Reol.”

Oh. Oh. Reol thinks he can die happy now. You explicitly told him that you trust him? It’s enough to make him want to soar into the skies. But beyond that…

You agreed to his idea. You agreed.

Reol can hardly wait.

But even as impatience makes itself known to Reol, he waits for you as patiently as he can. He waits for you to make yourself comfortable on the Student Council Room’s couch. He waits patiently as you prepare yourself for him to inspect your pussy.

By the time you’re ready, Reol’s cock is already straining against his slacks. He’s grateful that the school robes are loose enough to cover his excitement, but really, can you blame him? When he sees your pretty pussy in person for the first time, Reol swears he’s going to die. He’s going to die, but he’ll die happy.

Despite wanting to do nothing but make you melt under his touch, he’s careful with his movements. Gently, he places a hand on your thigh as he slots himself between your legs.

“Are you ready?” he asks, looking up at you.

“Yeah,” you whisper, body feeling hot.

“Don’t worry.” He kisses your inner thigh lightly, throat bobbing at the sight of your cunt – it's everything he's dreamed of and more. Gods, you’re just so beautiful from head to toe. “You can tell me to stop.” Which, yes, is true – but Reol will make sure you can’t tell him to stop.

He continues kissing your thighs, light pecks that send tingles down your spine. You’re so cute – your moans, your expressions, everything. It makes Reol want to ravage you completely.

“So, is there a pattern to when your little… problem occurs?” he murmurs, long fingers drawing rune-like shapes on your abdomen.

“Ngh– no,” you respond, thighs twitching due to Reol’s soft touches. “I haven’t found a pattern ye–” a loud moan escapes your lips as something begins to spread you open. Your tight hole stretches around nothing, more moans leaving you as an invisible object thrusts itself into you at a steady pace.

“Fascinating,” Reol murmurs, transfixed on the way your cunt stretches open. He watches all of you, determined to engrave this memory in his brain forever. The way you sound, the way you look, the way you feel – he’s determined to record every single detail.

He already thought he had done a fine job when he connected your pussy to his pocket pussy. But he’s even more pleased this time. He had set up a dildo that would thrust into his pocket pussy on his command, a perfect idea to ensure that your suspicion wouldn’t ever land on him. Plus, he gets to enjoy having you in his hands, even if it’s just for this moment.

So, of course, it would be a waste if he didn’t use this opportunity. He leans forward, licking your clit, before sucking it into his mouth. You gasp, grabbing a fistful of his hair, making him moan around your clit.

“Reol!” you gasp as you feel his mouth on you. He continues to eat you out like you’re his last meal, sucking and nipping you as he watches your reactions. Gods, you’re so cute, so wonderful. Reol can’t believe how lucky he is right now. He looks at you with worship, adoration deep in his eyes as he works to please you.

Reol’s movements along with the invisible object stretching you open is too much for you, making you let out a loud keen as you soak Reol’s face with your juices. Your legs wrap around Reol’s head as he helps you ride out your orgasm, gently suckling your clit while soothingly rubbing your hips. Satisfied, Reol allows the invisible object – the dildo – to finally pull out of the pocket pussy – you – once you stop cumming. Your pussy clenches around nothing, making Reol wish he could just reach out and fill you up himself, but he knows he should be patient.

“Hm, this has given me a lot to think about,” Reol murmurs, licking your cum off his lips. Yes, he’ll think about a way to ensure that you’ll be his. But for you, it sounds like he’ll think up more solutions to your problem. “I'll come to you with any news ideas I have.”

“I… I’d appreciate that,” you gasp, still feeling boneless from your orgasm.

“Of course,” Reol says, giving you a look of affection that’s so incredibly soft that you’re not sure if you’ve imagined it in your post-orgasmic bliss or not. “I… care about you. Truly. So… I wish to help you.”

Somehow, those words touch you. Especially with how Reol gently begins to clean you up with a towel.

“Water? Snacks?” Reol asks, using his magic to bring out some water and snacks from his bag. He offers them to you, which you take gratefully.

“Thanks, Reol.”

“Of course,” Reol responds, pleased with your reaction. He had read that the way to someone’s heart is through food and being kind, so he’s adamant to make sure he follows the advice. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will,” you reply, completely unaware of Reol’s plans or actions. To you, it just appears like he’s helping you with all his heart because he cares without any ulterior motives. And it’d be a lie to say that Reol’s care for you didn’t feel nice because, truthfully, it did. 

And it’s true that Reol cares for you, he does, and he’s working hard to find a solution to your problem.

It’s just too bad that he’s the source of your problem in the first place.

[muletia]

I know you said reader is just immortal for the sake fanfic and all. But hear me out on this.

Obsessed!Optimus hasn’t even thought about it. His processor would refuse to let him think about your lifespan. His spark would literally break at the idea of your life ending and leaving him for the rest of eternity.

Except, maybe one day you notice that after a long time, you haven’t gotten any older. Your skin doesn’t have any wrinkles (except those you’ve had before meeting the autobots). Your hair hasn’t gotten grayer. Nothing. So Ratchet scans you or whatever. Opti is internally freaking out. Humans are supposed to age. What’s going on?

The conclusion?

You and had Optimus fucked so much the exposure to his energon literally halted your aging. Like. It just stopped any age related damage happening to your dna/cells/body.

You topped a Prime into immortality. Bravo.

I wouldn’t even know if Opti’s spark could contain his happiness.

you are absolutely heard because I ADORE this concept!! This is exactly what I had in mind when mentioning an immortal reader.

Imagine the raw, unfiltered shock you feel when you find out that your beloved’s cosmic sperm literally turned you into a vampire. You sit there, dumbfounded, while Ratchet yells at both of you for being completely irresponsible. How could you recklessly interface without knowing how energon affects the human body on a molecular level?! Are you both so hopelessly in love that you completely lost your minds? You don’t even need to answer that because one look at Optimus — who is literally shaking with joy —i s more than enough of an answer.

In truth, Optimus’ reaction to the news of your immortality will be deeply tied to yours. If you’re terrified, realizing the countless complications that come with a vastly extended lifespan, Optimus will also react with concern for your mental state. After all, you didn’t consent to this — your immortality is a side effect that slipped into your life unnoticed.

But if you’re happy about eternal youth, Optimus will share in your happiness, even if he doesn’t outwardly show it right away. Inside, he’s overjoyed, but he’ll save the real emotional display for when the two of you are alone. Tears, lots of hugs, maybe even laughter and joy — you’ve never seen him so moved.

So yeah… you can start looking for that countryside cottage and kick off mass production of sparklings, lmao. Now, nothing stands in the way of Optimus’ eternal happiness <3

[luciathcv]

tipsy photoshoot - sjy

summary: jake poses for photos just to make you happy || warnings: they're both tipsy (reader more so) || genre: fluff, established relationship || word count: approximately 475

You and Jake had gone to Japan for a short vacation. Jake insisted the two of you go away somewhere quick while he had time and Japan wasn’t too far away so that’s where you both decided on.

When you got there, you both got settled into hotel room you’d be staying in for the next few days and just chilled on the bed together for a while. Considering you had gotten to Japan in the late afternoon, you both decided on chilling for the first night before actually going to do stuff starting tomorrow.

After coming home from a walk, Jake pulled out some beer from the mini fridge and you both drank together for a little bit. The drink accompanied with talks about the most random things as you both left teasing touches on one another.

After finishing the drink, both of you were honestly a bit tipsy but you were craving a snack so obviously, being the good boyfriend Jake was, he said he’d go out and get you something.

“No, I don’t want you to leave me.” You mumbled, feeling extra clingy today.

Jake softly smiled, “You’re acting like I’m leaving you for good. I’ll be right back.”

“I want to come with you.” You insisted.

“Fine. Get your coat on, baby, and we’ll go.” Jake gave in.

You both walked to a convenience store and Jake followed behind you as you started to look around for something. Despite the coldness outside, you wanted to get ice cream and Jake agreed, wanting to make you happy.

“Wait, I have an idea.” You said.

“What?” Jake responded, looking at you, waiting for the idea.

“Give me your phone.” You tell him, holding your hand out and he hands it to you with no problem. You then click onto the camera icon. “This is a good place for a photo shoot.” You suggest. Honestly, you were definitely much more tipsy than Jake was.

“A photo shoot? You want me to take some photos of you?” Jake asked, being fine with doing that.

“No… I want to take photos of you.” You say.

“Baby…” Jake started, noticing the worker at the counter not far away.

“Please.” You pleaded and that was all it took for Jake to give in.

“Alright, take the photos.” Jake said and you smiled as he posed all cutesy, just to make you happy as you took photos of him. You finished and handed him back his phone.

“I only posed like that for you.” Jake teased, both of the ice cream bars in one hand as he poked your side.

You smile, “That’s why you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“Very true.” Jake responded with a smile as you both walked over to the counter and he took out his card to pay for the ice cream you craved so badly.

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist

[storiesfromafan]

Missing Him/Her Was Dark Grey

A/N: I know I'm late to post, on day 3 of a migraine but it's moving on slowly. I bring you the last part of whatever this is 😅 I couldn't find the names of Johnny and Betty's girls, so I gave them names. Pls correct me if they do have names.

Previously: part one, part two

There will be a note at the end, it's a little important.

Warning/s: possible spelling/grammers mistakes

Tag list: @charmingballoon @strayrockette

Being gone for almost three months – open road, his bike and no responsibilities – gave Benny a lot of time to think. Thinking and weighing up the pro's and con's of his relationship with you, which he fully admits was left the worst way. Never had any relationship of his had a moment remotely as bad as that. Yet, no relationship was ever like what he had with you. Sure, there were women before you, but they never lasted or effected him like you did.

You were the light in a dim time. The calm to his storm. Yet that calm did bring on the storm too. If there wasn’t passion there wouldn’t be intense fights. Benny could see that. When you fought he would be passionate about it, about you, but that voice in his head. It was hard to tune out. But from years of being not good enough, it was always there loud and clear. Even when he knew better with you, that it wasn’t like that with you. It was different this time.

You had seen him before he saw you, but Benny was the first to fall. Flirting with you and putting himself out there, while you tip toed around him, doing everything to avoid getting close to the Vandal. But he got you on the back of his bike, and that was it. Sure, slow to start, but slow turned to a moderate pace before fast. A speed Benny was use too.

That was why he came back, he was back for you. No matter how much he tried to turn it off, he couldn’t stop thinking about you or loving you. So he had put on his grownup pants – metaphorically of course – and was back in town for you. Benny was ready to do anything and everything to get you back.

Unfortunately it didn’t look that way for you. As he rolls into town, passing the movie theatre, there you were. And not alone. It was brief but the man beside you looked like a complete square, the ideal man to bring home to your family. First there was anger that some guy was out with you. And secondly that turned to utter anguish that you were out on a date with someone else.

Unable to approach you without loosing it, Benny chose to ride on. And right to Grand and Division. Sure, he’d thought about heading to your house. But it would only be the same, or worse if you were planning to take the guy back to your place. That thought truly gutted him. The idea of another man touching you, kissing you and in your bed. He was close to just not even stopping, just riding back out of town. But Benny had been on the road for hours. He needed to stop, not to mention a beer or three.

Before he even entered the bar, just parked his bike, Johnny and a few other familiar faces came rushing out of the building. Benny had just gotten off his bike when Johnny patted him on the back, laughing and saying how it had been a while. Ushering him into the bar, Benny remained silent while the men around him fussed over him. They were truly happy to see him after being gone. Benny had hoped this was the reception he’d have gotten from you. Instead he was greeted to you and your new beau.

It was a blur of men and drinks, and yet he hardly spoke, unless he had too. Moving around the room to different groups. Even a quick game of pool, which he had no real interest in. Finally stepping out into the night, Benny pulled out a cigarette and lit it while standing in the semi dark street. Other than the muffled noise of the bar, it was quiet. Just what he needed after the night he’d had.

The doors behind him opened, but Benny didn’t turn to see whoever it was. He didn’t really care, so long as he was left alone. Unfortunately Johnny didn’t get that memo. Stepping up next to Benny, he too lit up a cigarette and enjoyed the first inhale. Both men stood there in silence. For Benny it was perfect, he was happy to not speak. Yet Johnny was fidgety, uneasy even. For he’d kept an eye on the young Vandal all night, and could see he wasn’t himself, coming to the conclusion something was up.

“So...” Johnny started, “what’s goin' on? Ya more quiet then usual...”

Benny sighed. Knowing this was coming. “Rough ride...” he offered, hoping that would the end of it.

Johnny studied Benny's profile, knowing that wasn’t it. “Nuh, it’s somethin' else. Talk to me kid...”

Johnny was trying to remain calm, voice soft. Not to spook or anger Benny. He truly wanted to know if the younger man was alright. Because whatever was going on, it showed that it was weighing him down. Diming the light that Benny always had. To Johnny, Benny was like a brother, and he worried about him all the time.

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Benny released it was a long sigh. “I saw her, with a...date”. The word date almost being spat, like it was poison.

Johnny slowly nodded his head, the man’s words sinking in. “Oh...I see".

“I saw ‘em as I rode back into town...” Benny paused, taking another drag of his cigarette. “They were by her car. It was a brief moment, but it was her...” He dropped the cigarette and proceeded to stomp it out, like how his heart was feeling.

The older Vandal watched the younger beside him. Seeing how this was really affecting him. That was when Johnny realised Benny had come back for you. All this time away and riding around, he’d made up his mind, and chose you. That he wanted and needed you. But now, having seen you with another guy, the man before him looked crushed and defeated. Though Benny only had himself to blame. Taking off in the first place hadn’t helped, or for so long. If he’d stayed around or came back sooner, maybe you wouldn’t have moved on like you have.

“Well kid...what did ya expect?” He questioned, knowing this was going to be a hard pill for Benny to swallow. That the truth would hurt. “Ya left, and she went through the break up process. It would only be a matter of time before she started seeing someone...”

Benny swallowed hard, trying to accept what the man was saying. Though he didn’t like it, or that he was right. “Yeah, I know...” he paused for a moment. “I-I just didn’t expect it to be so soon...”

Yet again Johnny patted him on the back, but this one was full of sympathy. “Yeah, I know kid...”

Silence rolled in after that. Neither having anything to say, or that there was really any more to be said. Johnny had kept an eye on you, seen you go through the motions and process Benny's absence and the breakup. Yet he didn’t think you’d be dating yet. To him there had to be more to it, but didn’t voice these thoughts. Not wanting to fire Benny back up, for he had finally settled.

The following days Benny had kept to sticking around Grand and Division. Playing pool as a way to distract himself, as well as keeping his hands busy. For Benny feared if he wasn’t kept busy, he just might do something he’d regret. Be it tracking down the man he’d seen with you, or confronting you and that going down in a blaze of heated words, with many he’d come to truly regret.

This was on him. He knew that, and could see it. He was to blame. Benny had done his soul searching while away, finally ready to take ownership for his part in your final fight, and breakup. He was ready to admit to all his short comings, manning up to carry the weight and do what was required of him to fix the relationship. But now he wasn’t sure about it. And with his doubts that voice began to surface, getting louder and louder. Sowing the seed of doubt deeper in him, wanting it to take root for good. So that doubt and that voice would never leave him.

And Johnny could see it. Watching the young Vandal, he could see the doubt taking root. Shutting himself off more to the world around him. This wasn’t the Benny he knew. Nor did he want too. Johnny wanted to see the laid back, care free and madly in love with you Benny. The one who would enjoy being around his club, with a passion for riding. Not this shell of a man that was playing pool with Corky.

Johnny knew he had to do something, anything, to help his friend. Now he just had to figure out what to do to help Benny...

After the blind date incident, you had been keeping your distance from those friends. If you could really call them that. They were barely friends anymore, when you were younger and in school together, you were more alike. But after school, years of working and then Benny, you weren’t like them anymore, not entirely at least. Of course Sally phoned the next day, wanting to know how it went after they left. You told her exactly how it went, and that you weren’t interested in being set up with any other men.

“Oh come on (Y/N/N)!” Sally sighed on the other end of the phone. “You have to put yourself out there, you aren’t getting any younger, Hun”.

Hun. How you detested that word. It was Sally's affectionate word to use when she was pissed off. Looking back on your friendship, you noted every time she used it when frustrated, angry or not getting her way. And that’s when you realised how entitled she was. How she was the one to influence those around her so everything was what she wanted or expected. This time she was not getting her way.

“I am serious Sally. I don’t want to be set up or blindsided into dates" you stated firmly. “I am not ready to move on, I am still processing my breakup with Benny. So I kindly ask that you don’t put me in that position again".

You wish you could see her face, as you just know she would be mad. And her tone told you that she was. “Look Hun, I was just trying to be a good friend. I am sorry that you weren’t happy. But I truly had your best interest in mind”.

You smirked, just feeling her holding herself back. “I understand, I just hope you’ll be more considerate from here on out, yeah?”

There was a knock at your front door. “Sorry Sally, I have to go. Someone’s at the front door".

Before Sally could respond to you, you hung up the phone. That being the best feeling so far of the day. There came a knock again, so you quickly moved from the kitchen and across the lounge room to the front door. Upon opening it you were greeted to Betty, soft smile upon her face and some beers.

“Had a bad day?” You asked her with a laugh.

“I thought you might be havin’ the bad day” Betty replied, moving to sit on your porch.

You followed her out, taking a seat next to her on the bench. “Oh it wasn’t too bad" – you took the beer she offered you – “but hanging up on one of the girls from the movies the other night, the high and mighty one, just perked me up".

Betty laughed as she cracked open her can. “You didn’t!” – you nodded your head – “oh she’d love that. She was the one we ran into a few weeks ago, right? Blonde and wears those high-end dresses? Husband has a cushy office job?”

You nodded. “That’s the one, Sally" you took a sip from the can. “She tried to act like she was helping me by setting me up on that blind date. Said you’re not getting any younger, like I don’t know that. I see myself in the mirror every day!”

“You ain’t old" retorted Betty. “You are young, and look young! Have kids and you’ll be old".

You both laughed, not taking the jest seriously. You continued to moan and groan about Sally and Ann, along with how you were keeping clear of them. You were different, better than who they are. You’re a person who is kind and caring, not a harpy that is mean and manipulating.

You enjoyed sitting there, having a few beers and just bitching about life. This was what Betty and you had been doing since Benny left. At first, she did it to check on you, make sure you were alright. But as you got yourself together it became more of bonding time for you both. And now you’d consider the older woman a dear friend, maybe an older sister. You even spent time with her and her young girls.

Before Betty left, she had invited you out shopping tomorrow with the girls. Which you accepted. Retail therapy was just as good as a beer and a chin wag. With plans made, you sat and finished your beer, before heading in for the night. Yet once alone, you found yourself thinking of Benny. Question after question running through your mind. Along with this longing for him. But you knew he didn’t want you, or else he’d have shown up by now. Those two harpies, that you had called friends, and their blind date had to be the reason for him not coming around.

Or he really was done with me... you thought, feeling the weight of those words on your heart.

The following day, you met up with Betty – and her girls – outside a clothing store. Lori, the oldest girl, hugged you first, then her sister Mary, while you greeted Betty. The girls both took a hand of yours and dragged you into the store, while Betty trailed behind you three laughing. Seeing the happy faces of the two girls warmed your heart, it was nice to be wanted by someone, even if it’s from two young girls, who were just the sweetest.

You and Betty chatted while looking around at dresses. She was trying to find a decent dress to wear for a school function. I have to look like those damn prissy witches, of course watching her language around her girls, who still giggled. As did you. You showed her options, and she did the same. Eventually finding a few for her to try. While she did that, you were looking at clothes with Mary. Being funny picking clothes two sizes too small. Which made the girl laugh, and correct you. To that you acted surprised and told her to stop growing.

“How does this look?” Asked Betty stepping out onto the shop floor. “It’s the better of the two, believe me".

You smiled looking her over. The dress was nothing glamorous but suited the older woman nicely. The red colour suited her fiery nature. The shirtwaist dress really gave that house wife look, and that was what Betty wanted.

“It’s perfect, screams house wife” you said with a small laugh, which both young girls giggled at.

Betty roller her eyes. “Good, I’ll fit in then".

The older woman then went back into the change room to get back into her clothes. You continued to entertain the two young girls. But the sound and sight of motorbikes caught your attention, along with the two girls with you. Mary was saying dad over and over again, moving to the change room to tell her mother.

You felt this coldness wash over you, if Johnny and a bunch of Vandals were nearby, so was Benny. The look Betty gave you, as she was pulled from the dressing room by Mary, told you she was thinking along the same lines as you. Mary of course kept pestering her mother about seeing Johnny, her father.

“You alright with it?” Betty asked you softly as you both headed for the registers.

You sighed but gave a short nod. “Yeah...best way to get a band aid off is to rip it off, right?”

“That’s not the best way! It hurts too much!” Mary cut in. Making you and Betty laugh.

With the mood lightened just a smidge, Betty proceeded to pay for the dress. Once it was bagged up and in Lori's hands, the lot of you left the shop. Moving down the street, further down you could see the cluster of motorbikes, and their riders. With every step towards them you felt your stomach sinking. A touch of fear rising from the thought of seeing Benny. Would he look to you? Or speak to you? Or would he act like you didn’t exist?

Reaching the corner, which was adjacent from the Vandals group, Mary spotted Johnny and called out to him. He of course looked around before spotting his daughter, his face lighting up at the sight of his girls, Johnny even returned the young girls wave. It was a sweet moment, you thought.

But when you looked upon the group of men again, that was when you saw him; Benny. He was standing with Cal, cigarette between his fingers as he took a drag. They were in conversation, Cal fuelling the conversation with lit up face and hand movements. But Benny, he looked as good as always. Just adding to the ache in your chest. That listening but aloof look and air to him. It gave him that mysterious but sexy appeal.

Then those stormy blues of his were looking at you. Your step faltered for a second under his gaze. Even from this distance you could see the anger and hurt in his eyes, his face just showing it slightly by the subtle changes. Such as his jaw clenching, eyebrows drawing together. Finally you looked away from him, unable to take it anymore.

Reaching Johnny, Mary launched herself at her father. Who didn’t hesitate to pick her up and hold her close. Betty leaned up to kiss Johnny's cheek, and Lori moved to stand beside her parents. They were the kind of family you had hoped to have one day with Benny. The thought now seeming like a silly dream.

“Hey (Y/N)” greeted Johnny, an awkward smile on his face – possibly due to you and Benny being in close proximity. “How are ya doin’?”

“Hi Johnny" you smiled softly, a little uneasy. “I-I'm alright. How are you?”

The older Vandal softly chuckled, possibly nervous. “Yeah, can’t complain...got my girls here, which is good".

Johnny then jostled Mary, who was still in his arms and laughed from her father’s movements. Your smile turned warm from the sight. “That’s good...they are very lucky...”

Johnny beamed at your words but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need too. The pride and joy on his face said everything. Even with the club, the man tried to maintain a balance of both worlds. He loved Betty and his girls dearly. The way he cared for both his family and bike, and club. It was something you wished Benny understood. But it never took root in him.

Eventually the girls took to running around the park, that the Vandals were parked at. Lori forced to chase her sister, as you continued to talk to Betty and Johnny. Different Vandals joined you all at different times, before moving on to another group. Before you knew it Cal and Benny stepped up to you all.

You tensed when Benny stood across from you. But he didn’t look to you, if he could help it. He was treating you like you weren’t there. And that saddened you, but also angered you more. He just listened as Cal or Johnny spoke. Maybe saying a word or two. His voice – a sound you hadn’t heard for so long – cutting deeply, missing how he would speak to you. All you got now was nothing.

“Where have ya been (Y/N)?” Cal asked, casually sparking up a joint.

You tensed, swallowing before answering. “J-just working...nothing special...”

Cal nodded as he took a drag of his joint. “But ya haven’t even been too Grand and Division for about three months...”

You shrugged trying to not cast a look to Benny. As he’d been the reason you hadn’t gone back to the bar, he’d left town after all. “I didn’t feel like going to the bar...”

Benny scoffed, but didn’t say a word.

Betty shot him a look, before she looked to you in sympathy. “Things change Cal" was her sharp words, telling him to drop it.

Said man held up his hands, starting to catch on that this was not a road to go down currently. “A-alright...” Cal sputtered, choosing to leave it at that.

You felt lighter, knowing it was being dropped. Unfortunately Benny wasn’t done. His gaze drew in on you. Hearing you speak so airy got under his skin. How you didn’t disclose that you had been busy with another man, or men, and going on dates. That had to be what filled up your time, right? It’s what Benny had concluded on. The last month or more, you were out and about, trying to replace him.

Dropping his cigarette to the ground, Benny stomped it out. The aggression and sound caught everyone’s attention. And when looking to him, yourself included, his dark gaze was set on you. A chill ran down your spine, telling you this was not good. He had been so calm, but here was the storm. And you were in its path.

“Why don’t ya tell the truth" Benny’s voice boomed, the gravelly tone deeper and off putting. “Ya didn’t go to the bar because ya were getting around town with different guys".

The tone and the accusation he made left you dumbstruck. Benny had seen you with one man. Where did he get the idea, it was more than that one? Betty was sputtering, coming to your defence but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. The sounds around you turned fuzzy, almost like static, as you stood there in shock. You hadn’t been running around town with Tom, Dick or Harry. You’d been heartbroken and trying to get yourself back together.

Slowly the anger in you rose, with it the fire clearing the fog in your brain, bringing you back to the present. Grasping what Benny was saying, accusing you of not caring, you found that backbone. It was like that night all over again. His lack of seeing or understanding, jumping the gun. You stood tall, shoulders lowering as you drew your gaze in on him. And when Betty quieted down, you knew she could see what was to come.

“For your information, which I really don’t have to give you, the other night was the first date I’d had in forever" you stated eerily calm, but with a touch of sass. “I was blindsided into it. So maybe, in future, get your facts straight Benny”.

There was more you could say, wanted to say, but the way he looked at you like you were lying kept you from airing it all out. He wasn’t listening to you, like usual. He had made his mind up for good. So it wasn’t worth your time or energy to make him see or believe you. This was the Benny you knew all too well. If you continued to fight it would be a loosing battle, as he had made his mind up.

Taking a step back you turned from him, casting a look to Betty and Johnny, who looked like deer in headlights. But there was sadness there in their eyes. Betty knew the truth, she knew what you’d been through. She was there for you, seeing how hard you took his absence. Johnny might have known, for Betty could have kept him in the loop, but he also checked on you. But you never went into depth of it all like you did with his wife.

“Betty, I'm going home. I’ll talk to you later, tell the girls my goodbyes and I’ll see them soon" and with that you turned around and headed the way you came.

You held your head high, striding away like you were on a mission, which was one to keep it together. No crumbling in front of Benny, or Betty or Johnny, no one would see you fold. As you walked away you could hear Betty fire up at Benny. If you couldn’t do it, she was. You know she would give him a good dose of reality. Yet didn’t care. There was no coming back from this now. Right?

A/N: yes, I lied. Sorry, not sorry 😅 but the next part will be the last, I promise. And it will be steamy/smutty. Who doesn't enjoy a heated argument leading to make up sex?

Till the next, final part...

[slippinmickeys]

Keva sent me a Funfetti prompt on Bluesky, which was fun because it was just a picture. Of...you'll see.

A February day like the world cracked open, crystalline and pure. There was snow in the air, there was frost on the glass. 

“Gonna need to replace those windows,” said Mulder into his pillow, though Scully couldn’t help but admire the paisley hoar, the delicate whorl of paper thin crystals. “Item 161 on the Shit The House Needs List.”

“You’re the one who begged to buy this house, Mulder,” she reminded him, rolling toward him and shoving her feet under the warm meat of his legs. From beside the bed, the baby monitor hissed quietly.

“You agreed to it.”

“The price was right.” 

“I paid for it.”

“It’s only redeeming quality,” she said jauntily, rolling closer to him and pushing the cold tip of her nose into his neck. “And now you get to pay for its upkeep.”

The first eleven months of William’s life had been a slow merging of their individual ones, until the night of Mulder’s fortieth birthday when he wondered aloud why he was still paying for his apartment when he hadn’t set foot in it in months. Upon blowing out the candles on his Snoball, he declared the desire to buy them all a house. 

She pressed a kiss into his skin. “It’s hideous,” she murmured into him. 

“It’s got good bones.”

“It’s got zero curb appeal.”

“There are cathedrals everywhere for those with the eyes to see,” Mulder said, then rolled over quickly, pinning Scully beneath him in one slick move. 

She looked up at him with surprise. With interest. 

“I won’t sit idly by while you lay there and burgle my warmth,” he said, a sly grin creeping up one cheek. 

“I was once told that the best way to regenerate body heat was to crawl naked into a sleeping bag with somebody else who is already naked.”

Mulder smiled. “Sleeping bags aren’t necessary Scully, I intend to get lucky,” he said, lowering his mouth to the curve where her neck met her shoulder. She felt the flick of his tongue. 

And then from the baby monitor, the dulcet tones of “Dada! Dada!”

They both groaned, and Mulder thunked his head into Scully’s shoulder. 

“Well…” she said, giving his back a conciliatory rub. “Maybe tonight.”

Mulder lifted his head. 

“Here me out,” he said. “I think we have time.” He thrust himself almost experimentally against her once. 

Scully considered for a moment, turned her head so she could better hear the smaller noises William was making over the baby monitor when:

“DadadadaDADADA!”

Mulder fell to Scully’s side in defeat. 

“I’ll keep the bed warm for you,” she said, checking to make sure she didn’t need to change into a different pajama top for easier nursing. 

Mulder made a whining sound. 

“Why do I have to go when it’s you he wants?”

“He’s not calling for me,” Scully said innocently. He was one hundred percent correct. The boy would be thrilled to see his father walk into his nursery, but the second Scully came into view, he would attempt to tip himself out of his father’s arms with all the strength he could muster until he found himself in his mother’s.

“‘Dada’ is the only word he can say.”

“A fact I recall you bragging about to anyone within earshot for the better part of the last week.”

“Scully…” he whined. 

“To the victor go the spoils,” she said, and shimmied herself further under the covers. 

Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Mulder rose from the bed and quickly donned sweats and a tee shirt, shuffling out of their bedroom in a leather pair of slippers ‘William’ had gotten him for Christmas. 

“Good morning!” Scully heard him say good-naturedly over the monitor before she leaned over and switched it off, smiling to herself. 

A few minutes later Mulder came shuffling back in carrying their son, who squealed happily upon seeing his mother. 

“Good morning, William!” she said with a happy smile. 

As they approached her side of the bed, Mulder grinned. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom,” he said, then turned to look importantly at their son. “Want to give her her present?” 

“Da!” the baby babbled, and leaned out of Mulder’s arms and into Scully’s. 

Scully sat him on her lap briefly, and in the hand that had been tucked into Mulder’s side appeared a small red and yellow plushie that went directly into his mouth. 

“My goodness!” Scully exclaimed happily. “What’s this?” 

Mulder flopped into the bed next to them and propped himself up on an elbow.

William took the opportunity to tilt himself forward and reach for Scully’s top. 

“Breakfast first, huh?” she said, and adjusted both baby and herself so the boy could nurse. 

He waved the plushie about as he latched, and Scully finally got a good look at it. 

“Wait,” she said. “Mulder is that a…” She turned to look at him and he grinned. 

The plushie was a bee. Slightly anthropomorphized with an adorable chubby face, smile, and antenna, holding a heart that said “BEE MINE” in looping cursive. 

“You’re kidding.” She turned to Mulder, who chuckled. “Where’d you two find this?”

“The grocery store,” he answered airily.

“My Valentine’s Day gift is from the grocery store?” Mock outrage. 

“Your birthday is in nine days and I’ve got a mortgage to pay,” Mulder breezed. “Besides, he really liked it.”

“That much is apparent,” Scully said, looking down at her son who was happily suckling, his hand wrapped around the bee in a death grip. 

“You like it?” 

“It’s charming,” she answered. “And as inside jokes go, it’s very…you.” 

Mulder leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek and then one to the side of William’s head. “I think of it less as an inside joke and more a message of devotion.” 

She quirked a look at him. 

“I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, Scully,” he said simply, then rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, leaving her in a state of rather stunned emotional tumult. 

She sat in silence for a moment, her equilibrium shaken. Mulder chose that moment to bring her back to herself.

“Oh,” he said, reappearing in the doorway with a toothbrush sticking half out of his mouth. “Be careful. I think it’s got a lot of drool on the one antenna.”

[captain039]

PART 6 The Meaning of Flowers

Viktor x reader

Bridgerton AU

Warnings: olden times, sexism, light swearing, plus size reader, older Viktor, age gap, fat shaming, sexual, smut, oral F and M receiving, innocent reader, light corruption kink, reader in her 20s, long-haired Viktor, possessive Viktor, obsessive Viktor, angst

Previous part <-

Dearest reader, with our matches getting cozier by the second it seems we may have proposals within the week, in fact, I’ve noticed a few gentlemen seeking the favour of a young lady's hand already. However, with all of this going like clockwork, the only thing that doesn’t tick with time is our dear Duke and man of progress. Is the young lady he danced with going to steal and capture his heart? Or is it all going to come crashing down in burning smoke?

You’ve never attended a ball held at your papa's estate, usually, it’s only in the winter you come here to wait out the cold season in such a large home, though now you’re starting to see why no balls are held here. Your mama's colour palette is a tad odd. Perhaps she’s trying to copy the Talis’s gold but with orange? Her theme is orange and yellow and everything seems to be in your face quite literally. The flowers, the drapes, the decor, intact the kitchen silver wear isn’t silver but yellow and orange, there’s Orange and yellow cakes, orange and yellow drinks, you may go dizzy. You stand by your papa at the entrance of the ballroom as the servants set everything up.

“Oh boy,” your papa whispers as you blink in slight horror.

“Isn’t it wonderful!” Your mama comes up beside your papa and he forces a smile.

“Yes indeed” he lies and you excuse yourself. Your lady maid Mercy beside you gives you a small look.

“Yes, I’m aware” you huff.

“It’s all quite-“ she trails off.

“Disgusting? Hideous, like she threw lemons and oranges everywhere?” You say.

“I wasn’t going to be that harsh but yes” she grimaces as you walk into your room and fall on your bed.

“Please, I beg you tell me my dress is not orange or yellow” you say and she winces again as she pulls out a yellow dress with orange flowers.

“Oh gods,” you say sitting up and staring at it.

“I tried talking to her lady maid about uh, subtly adjusting it however it did not work” Mercy explains.

“We’re going to the modiste, right now,” you say and she nods quite literally chucking the dress back into the box it came in. You’ve never been one for dresses but you will not embarrass yourself further to look like a lemon. You head to the modiste and the madame there smiles.

“Welcome,” she says.

“No mama today?” She says.

“No, I need your help, please,” you say and she turns serious.

“The yellow dress?” She asks and you nod.

“Oh goodness, indeed come with me” she beckons you with her into the back fitting room.

“I knew this would happen I had an extra made, now it is still yellow but it is almost pale and I made sure to make the flowers white” She pulls out a beautiful pale dress that’s almost white, it’s not bright but subtle and the white flowers littering the top add to its charm.

“Thank you, Madame, you’re a lifesaver,” you say.

“Nonsense, you danced with the duke in my dress I am more than happy to provide” she smiles and you flush a bit.

“He’s quite handsome, no?” She grins and you nod not trusting your voice.

“I’ll stop teasing, but I’ll have this packed and dropped off” She smiles and pats your arm. You return home thankful to avoid wearing that hideous dress now hidden in the dark corners of your closet. Your nerves are building up for this evening wondering if the duke will indeed attend knowing he only tends to the higher members of the city’s balls and soirées.

You find yourself antsy, waiting for him to arrive and wonder what has gotten into you. You’ve never been so… so interested in a gentleman. As the ball carries on though you realise he’s not going to show up and your heart sinks a bit. You ignore your mama's glares at your lack of a bright yellow dress compared to hers, but you match everyone else in their pale yellows and subtleness. You manage to leave the ballroom and head to the gardens figuring since you’re at your estate it can be of no harm. You walk for a bit before sitting down on a cold granite bench and looking at the statue in the garden.

“You’ll catch a cold out here my lady” Your heart rate increases as you look over and see the duke approaching. You stand up quickly eyes a little wide.

“You came,” you say as he stands a meter from you.

“And miss the brightness of such a soirée?” He smiles.

“Gods please don’t remind” You sigh and sit back down gesturing for him to sit as well.

“I assume you did not have a say in such matters neither did your father?” He says resting his cane on his side.

“No I did not this is- it’s hideous, embarrassing you should’ve seen the dress she bought me” you sigh watching his eyes crinkly in the corners as he smiles.

“Your dress is beautiful” he says and you look down at the subtle pale yellow and white lace flowers.

“The Madame at the modiste was kind enough to have made me a backup,” you say trying to ignore the way your heart rate picks up.

“Smart woman,” he says. You sit in comfortable silence, though you fiddle with your fingers, picking a bit.

“Stop,” he says gently but firmly his slender hand taking yours.

“You’ll make yourself bleed” he says his fingers slotting between yours and resting them on his thigh. You hold your breath, don’t dare move or breathe, you’re holding hands with the duke in the garden alone….You’re alone in the garden holding hands with the duke…. You’re alone- you stand up and gasp.

“What is it?” He stands up as well limping slightly.

“I’m alone, with you in the garden, no chaperone” you begin to panic.

“Calm down” his voice is firmer than before and your eyes snap to his. He steps closer his free hand lifting, you’re shaking slightly your eyes watching his hand as he cups your cheek cold slender fingers touching your warm cheek. You let out a small gasp without meaning too eyes moving back to his honey coloured ones as he steps even closer his breath mingling with yours.

“Nobody is out here but us” he says voice low and breathless almost.

“How do you know?” You ask in a whisper.

“I made sure” Something in his tone makes you frown briefly before he leans in closer.

“Do you know how hard it is, to not touch you” he murmurs.

“To not have your warmth filling my bones, to not have you close” your mouth parts as you breathe shakily and his eyes look down to your lips.

“How hard it is to be gentlemen within your presence when all I want to do-“ his thumb traces your bottom lip gently.

“Corrupt you?” He whispers his eyes darkening as you feel your body tense, your heart rate increasing your lower stomach doing something you’ve never felt that makes you squeeze your thighs together. He lets out a small growl-like noise his forehead resting against yours.

“That feeling just now, you don’t know what it was do you?” He whispers and you shake your head slightly.

“That clench in your lower stomach, pressing your thighs together,” he says.

“It’s arousal” he murmurs and you frown.

“Fuck” he mumbles.

“I want you to do something tonight when you’re alone in bed” he leans back slightly so he can look into your eyes.

“I want you to think about that feeling and what gave you that feeling” he orders gently his accent getting thicker the lower his voice drops.

“I want you to slip your hand between your thighs, where it’s most warm” he adds and all you can do is look at him.

“I want you to touch yourself, explore what feels good what brings more of that feeling in your lower belly” his thumb gently strokes your cheek.

“I want you to chase it, keep doing it till it builds.. and builds” his gaze is heavy and you forget how to breathe as you feel your stomach clench and flip.

“And when it finally hits, I want you to let go, let those built-up feelings explode” You finally breathe in quickly before you hear your name and gasp and step back. You look at the duke one more time before his hand slips from your face as you walk off. Your cheeks are warm, your whole body is warm and your legs shake slightly as you walk back to your mamas calling. His words replay in your mind all night and every time you look at him at the ball you hold your breath and feel even warmer.

When it’s night and you’re all alone you close and lock your door your breathing a little heavy. You stare at your bed lie down and pull the covers over your body taking a shaky breath as you think back to his closeness, the words he said. You do as he says your hands going between your thighs, it is warm as he said and slightly wet, you slide a finger between your folds and gasp. You still for a moment at the jolt that goes through your body, his words echoing in your head. You do it again rubbing your finger over the nub. Your stomach clenches slightly at the feeling and you let out small gasps. ‘I want you to chase it, let it build and build’ You continue moving your fingers shivers and feelings going through your body intensifying the more you do it. You’re gasping softly, your back arches ever so slightly and your toes curl under the sheets. ‘Let those built-up feelings explode’ A noise leaves your mouth as a feeling rushes through your body like a coil snapping. Your eyes seal shut and you hold your breath as it does before you remember to breathe and pant heavily. Your fingers slow and you stop, body shaking slightly as you do. You remove your hand noticing the slight wetness and stickiness on your fingers. You go to the bathroom and have very shaky legs, leaning against the counter and washing your hands as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your face is flushed, and a layer of sweat covers you, you need to ask him what just happened, and why you’ve never felt like that before.

Next part ->

[k0nanharv3y]

I WANT HIM TO BE MAD, I WANT HIM TO COLAPSE AND CRY HIS LUNGS OUT I WANT HIM TO SCREAM... I'm allergic to happiness :[ so then I should proceed

///

Tim knew how to be mean, rude and how to hurt people with his words, I mean, he was raised by Fucking Janet Drake. He knew what he was doing

And he was so done with Damian, and life, apparently

Damian who's being an asshole about his birth rights and how Drake would never be worth enough to have the Robin mantle: The only reason you're part of this family is because father couldn't let go you with what you know!

Tim, who already knows this fact and is running on half an hour of sleep and a liter of coffee only: Oh, really?! The only reason he took you in was because he had to, not because he loved you. We were a choice, you were just an obligation caused by a mistake

And then there was silence

Damian's face was red and there was a glimmer of tears in his eyes. Tim's chest rose and fell as if he had run a marathon

And a heavy folder fell to the floor of the cave, breaking the silence and about to break everything around it

Bruce, who's been listening to the discussion in silence, because he had no right to step into it because he's scared of feelings: Tim! You cannot say that! Apologize!

Tim, who is about to cry because he's so tired: Apologize?! What the hell Bruce!? He started this shit!

Damian stepped away from Tim, frowning, hurt and ready to start fighting if Tim decided to take more physical action against him

Bruce: He is a child!

Tim, feeling something inside him slowly burn: A child?!, That demon tried to kill me and that "child" is 15 years old, he can't not understand the consequences of his actions and his words, you can't-! You can't always defend him Bruce! He has to understand that-

Bruce, who has gotten too close to Tim, standing in front of him, using all his height to appear bigger than him: Of course I can!, He is my son

Tim: I am your son too!

And the silence came again, tears in Tim's eyes. A silent gasp from Bruce and the bats screeching from the screams they were both throwing at each other

Tim: This is unfair...

He muttered, taking steps away from Bruce, lowering his head, red with shame and tears

Tim: It's unfair that he... that you...! I'm your son too, why don't you love me like you love him?

Bruce: Tim, that's not-

Tim: Yes it is!, I understand-! I understood in the past that you weren't at your best, I understood that you didn't love me! I understood that, Bruce!, during my years as Robin I understood that! And I understand that you've changed, I understand that the Bruce that Damian has now is not the Bruce that I had, but it is...! It's unfair that you still don't defend me like you defend him! Not even as your son, but as your partner! It's unfair and-! Why can't you just-?! Why don't you love me, Bruce?!

The tears now had no qualms about falling like waterfalls, and the sobs made his voice sound younger than Tim was, younger than Bruce had ever heard

Bruce: I love you T-

Tim: It's not the same if I have to yell at you, Bruce! Damian gets pets, presents, TIME! And all I got for my birthday was trust issues and trauma, when I pulled you out of the timestream you didn't even-! You didn't even say anything to me! If you didn't love me, then you would have let me keep up with the uncle lie! At least then I'd know what I was getting from you and what you wanted from me!

Their ears registered the sounds of footsteps, the worried voices. But none of them gave a fuck

Tim: What you want from me now, Bruce?! Tell me! What you want from me?!

Bruce: I-

The words caught in the adult's throat, because, the kid in front of him (because Tim was a kid, because he could never grow up to be anything outside of what Bruce needed) looked so tired and nothing Bruce said was going to make up for years of feeling unloved and unwanted, just needed. And Bruce couldn't think of a time when he had ever made that thought questionable (Bruce had literally conditioned the kid to put others before himself)

Bruce: I'm sorry

And if Tim started to sob ugly and wet, that would be his problem. He was so tired to worry about it

///

Part 2 Jumpscare!!

///

[koolkitty9]

Things so far I've learned about Eternal Love as of 1/24 9:20am CST

Do not click read more If you do NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED. THESE ARE THINGS I'VE SLOWLY FOUND VIA TWITTER.

AGAIN THESE ARE SPOILERS FOR THE NEW BOUEIBU MOVIE, DO NOT CLICK IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW!!

En is a world traveler. Not homeless! He apparently has JUST gotten back from Malaysia or something.

Atsushi works for the city.

Io is just rich from his stocks.

Ryuu is a host.

Kinshiro is a teacher?

Ibushi apparently has a beard and one said he "is very sexy". He apparently protects kinshiro later on. Oh he's apparently a secretary or something like that.

Akoya WORKS AT A BAR. yes he apparently is a bar server. (Maybe works where Ryuu does????)

Yumoto is Yumoto lol

Sensei COMES TO AKOYA'S BAR

There are apparently a lot of Wombats 😂 so our multiple Wombat theory is right

Aye-aye is a BADDIE. OMG LIKE WE DIDN'T ALL ALREADY GUESS. Am not sure what Death Amor does yet 😂 or if Aye-Aye IS Death Amor.

When they transform it takes them back to a "saved state" just like how @deuterium51614 theorized

The HK and Love boys hardly talk to each other 😂 apparently in the bath THEY'RE ALL IN TOGETHER. They don't talk outside their group

Apparently though....Happy Kiss maybe a different universe from LOVE.

Kinshiro apparently turns evil for a second? Okay I used Google translate and some of this was hard to truly decipher properly.

Ibushi protects Kinshiro from an attack at the bathhouse.

The LOVE boys do MORE than the HK boys in the fight

It is 2025, Yumoto is 25/26, AkoIoRyuuHaruAki are 26/27, KinAtsuEnIbu are 27/28. Gora then is roughly 34/35

Yumoto clearly gets a combined staff as this is what's on the front of the script. I'm not sure exactly how it happens. I'm only going off that image

AkoIoRyuu are all in contact. Akoya calls Ryuu, Ryuu-chan now.

Atsushi helps En shave his beard off and apparently the same user who said Ibushi was sexy, so was En.

En borrows someone's clothes at the bathhouse (can't tell if it's Yumoto's, Gora's, or Atsushi's clothes)

I have found everyone's adult forms uncensored BUT Atsushi and the Student Councils. I don't think the twins and Gora HAVE buttons/art yet with them being adults.

Someone said something like how timelines were shifted weirdly and somehow at one point then HK didn't exist? Again Google translate did NO favors for me here. Okay maybe it's the idea like I said above where Love and HK are at one point TWO different timelines.

When the DC gets back together, they all start talking once more and act basically the same as before.

Apparently when the twins show up, one is holding the other by their waist while standing behind.

The Battle Lovers will apparently last for like a thousand more years?? (Not exactly sure until we see the movie itself but....uhh I'LL STILL HOLD ONTO YUMOTO BEING GOD OF LOVE SO HAH).

Apparently there are many multiverses in the movie and one user wondered if "there are as many multiverses and futures as there are wombats". They also wondered if this is just ONE of the futures they can have. 🤔 (So according to this thought, it basically canonizes all our ideas/fics/aus).

Okay I think that's it for now! If I get more I'll make a second post! 💙

[blushingbubbles]

bimbobingo O-5: edge until u can cum from penetration (exempt from rules regarding forbidden words)

🫠

🫠

🫠

i was speaking with a Sir today who's had it in his head that ill b able to cum from only penetration by the time he's thru with me.

& i was a stupid slut who doubted him.

this afternoon we start talking... i've gotten into the habit of sending full writing rambles illustrating how i think certain scenes would go

well... it's my fault that my writing made him feral...

he asked if i wanted a reward when i was done because i did such a good job (🫠🥰)

i told him i didnt need one, that i was very happy already, but i would take a reward if he really thought i deserved it.

he told me to grab my dildo.

now the scene id written had been about edging all day and being desperate for cock (call it my autobiography)......so i fully thought AND WAS HAPPY WITH my treat being edging with a dildo

✨ wrong. ✨

he had me ride it with no other stimulation. kept sending me dirty texts and instructions through the chat. told me to hit the edge and hold it.

i hit it unusually fast, and i told him this, which made him happy. but a few minutes later his message came in

"Push yourself over."

😵‍💫🫠 im on deniallll right now!!! everyone rolled the dice today and we're only supposed to be edging!! but i assumed that he's seen the dice roll and just??? doesnt care???

Me: "wh" (aka nonverbal and in a puddle of my own wetness)

Him: "You have not only permission but a command."

😵‍💫🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

what was i supposed to doooooooooooooo

so yah. i came down from my high dizzy and floaty and feeling very like.... successful? i didnt ever see myself orgasming from penetration alone :) but now i know i cannn

thank u Sir for proving me wrongggg 💕💕

status: cum-plete (bah-dum-tss)

[quandledlngle69]

"EVEN IF IT FEELS RIGHT, IT'S WRONG."

☆ CONTENT:  An office AU where olderfem!reader is the secretary to Reo's father in the Mikage corporation, and she finds herself battling with morals and professionalism when Reo takes over as the CEO and confesses to reader in an elevator. ☆ GENRE/THEMES/WARNING: Office AU, trapped/forced proximity, confession, age-gap, reader and Reo almost kiss, reader is in her early 30's, Reo is in his mid 20's. Reader is abit cold and snobbish to Reo at first. Reader is a older female woman, implied that reader is black, reader wears a lace front. ☆ PAIRING: Olderfem!reader x CEO!ReoMikage ☆ W.C. 3.2K ☆ NOTE: This fanfic is based on the results of this poll–enjoy!

You have been with the Mikage Corporation for over seven years.

A loyal employee, one might say.

But you know it's because it couldn’t get any better than this.

When you were younger, you found it suspicious you had been handed the job on somewhat of a silver platter, but you never questioned it. You were fresh out of uni with a business management degree, bubbly as a cluster of bubbles, nothing could stop you. Younger you assumed it had been given to you so easily because you were fully qualified for the job. Which–was a factor, but if you asked your grumpy self now, you were still angry about the fact you didn't see the painfully obvious reason–that you were just a fresh object they could wear out until you needed to be discarded. And boy were you more worn out then a fucking used cloth.

You wanted to punch your past self for having this bright and colourful expectation of the world you were about to get into. A comfortable, easy life. Yet seven years later, all you had gotten out of this job was a reality slap in the face, chronic lower back pain, and the constant pressure and expectations from those around you made the outcome of your work feel personally worthless.

Working as Mr Masamune Mikage’s secretary was a hell you didn’t even want your worst enemies to experience. It was workload after workload, planning events after events, calls after calls. After a while of picking up the phone desk with slightly whitened knuckles, you had noticed fingerprints indented on the sides. 

And his wife was the most, no, thee most insufferable person on this planet to try and please. She was never happy with how you were dressed, your shirt was never the right length, and your makeup was never right for her. (god forbid you caked your face with pounds of makeup.) And who needs to host a party for the company getting another deal? They get three of those each week, doesn’t the woman get tired being in those six inch heels all day? Or talking to other egotistical trophy wives?

You pride yourself on being the sole person who ordered those around, who filled out the important paperwork on behalf of the CEO, who made sure the project's deadlines were met, who answered all the calls from other professional and expecting businessmen–who sneered as they asked you to specifically get a male representative on the phone.

You clawed your way to your place as secretary, you sacrificed the person you once were, and became a shell of yourself to gain this basically top–of–the–hierarchy through blood, sweat and tears.

And then, his son takes over his position. 

Yes, the Reo Mikage. 

You admittedly didn’t have high hopes with him first refusing to take the position from his father, you started with the prejudgment that it wouldn't be surprising if half of the company ran into the ground the first month of him even stepping in his fathers office.

It irked you.

The fact he didn't seem to take the job as seriously as you did, and his father did. 

One could say he was childish.

For a man in his mid twenties, and had seemingly been trained his whole life to take over his fathers company, he sure lacked the experience of actually being in an office and taking charge. He doesn’t run on excessive ice coffee and redbull like you–oh no, one matcha latte from the coffee shop downtown, and it's like he's energised for the entire day.

And you? Well, you just felt like a grumpy, slow slug the seven out of the eight hours you have to work.

It ruffled your feathers when he would ask if you needed help with your large workload, or constantly scolding you like some child for ‘pushing yourself too hard’. You had to bite back the glare you were barely holding back, if only it wouldn’t get you written up. In spite of that, there were–other things that would puzzle you. Supposedly like how he remembered it was standard routine for you to have a can of redbull after lunch, and how he would slightly chuckle at your surprised and confused expression as he placed the cool can on your desk. Because–who does that?

The way almost everyone in the office automatically liked him, like a magnet to metal, made your eye twitch. As a grown adult, you grasp the sense that you should restrain yourself, but it undoubtedly drives you up the wall when your openly cold attitude or sneering side remarks bounce off him and are instead met with an unwavering politeness. Despite that, you had found yourself subconsciously putting in…extra effort to look nice. Making sure your makeup was never cakey, your lace was laid, your edges were perfect.

You espied it too. The subtle glances and staring he thought you couldn’t see in your peripheral vision. You could almost kick yourself for subconsciously recognising the pattern of times he would do it, too. Such as when you are preoccupied with typing documents, speaking to other co workers, speaking in private meetings–

It's humiliating how many times you've almost stuttered in your speech, or your fingers pausing, hovering just above your keyboard. Just from his piercing amethyst irises alone.

Talking about his eyes—

They're very piercing, a beautiful mulberry when you're up close. And they seem to hold a certain sparkle of ‘capitalism hasn’t crushed my spirit yet.’

...

Fine. You admit it, he’s attractive. Conventionally attractive. The only funny part of your job was entering the empty printing room to begin shredding many love letters that somehow manage to find their way into his office daily. Filthy rich, intelligent, handsome, tall, and a CEO? Either he’s God's favourite or you're in a cheesy fantasy book. 

But he’s way too young, even for you. Not only is it almost over half a decade age gap, but you had been called a hag too many times from middle aged drunk men when you rejected them. (Only after you had told them your age.) And not that you would admit it outloud, but it hurt your self–esteem enough to not even look in a slightly younger man's direction or seek out any relationships.(Not as if you had been in many.) You didn’t even have any wrinkles!

But these days, you quite frankly push those thoughts away and just bury your head in your work and avoid Reo–Mr. Mikage, now you mean–as much as you can. 

It had been a long day, the overtime was almost overkill for your brainpower and body, but at least you would be paid for the two hours of overtime.

Your heels echoed ever so subtly on the dark grey carpet.The floor–to–ceiling windows on the left allowed the warm tangerine light to be poured like paint in the long stretched corridor, stretching out to every sharp shadowed corner and exposing itself. Everyone on the floor had already packed up and respectively went home, they did good work, finishing the project a day early from the deadline. Your brief gaze out the window had turned into a long take in of the world below you. The city buildings were also getting licks from the orange light, slivering its way onto streets and reflecting windows, passing civilians dipping in and out of the shadows and into the light to bask in its warmth. Your eyes flickered up slightly to the sky, overwhelmed by the smear of crimson and cantaloupe orange, leaving little of the sky blue that dominated the sky only a few hours earlier. The amber–tinted clouds flew by lazily, painting the perfect picture of a sunset over the city of Tokyo.

You snapped out of your smooth train of thought as your phone beeped, it was a message from your mother. 

“Mommy misses you lots, hope you can visit again in the summer!”

You smiled sheepishly to yourself at the message, taking in the photo she sent you soon after, her and your siblings sitting on the couch, seemingly doing their traditional Friday movie night. There was a melancholy feeling that blossomed in your chest at the empty space at the end, where you would sit.

You quickly brushed it off, knowing that summer wasn’t as far away, and then you would be back at your childhood home again. You put your phone in the pocket of your black blazer dress, continuing to walk towards the end of the halfway. You approached the glass elevator.

Gently pressing the button with a down arrow with your acrylic nail, you stepped back at a respectable distance, thinking if someone were to come out so you wouldn’t be in their way.

You were pleasantly surprised as the heavy elevator doors opened to reveal an empty box, the glass from ceiling to floor allowing an in depth view of the city below. It was a relief knowing you were way too socially drained to have idle chit chat with a coworker. You settled comfortably in the corner after pressing the button to ground level, you silently appreciated the warmth of the sun's light penetrating from all sides of the glass. Watching the light split into its many spectacles of colours on the floor, you didn’t even notice the hand that stopped the elevator doors from shutting at the last second until it creaked, opening back up again. 

You braced yourself for the onslaught of small talk you would have to have with a coworker, yet your heart dropped as you made eye contact with a familiar face, your body tensing immediately before you forced yourself to bow. 

Reo Mikage.

“Oh please, you don’t need to bow, {name}.” His voice abashedly replied to your polite gesture, waving his hand casually as you stood up straight again, before he joined you in the elevator. 

The atmosphere instantly felt heavier, to you anyway. There was this tension that was lingering in your chest, oppressive and clingy. The scent of his cologne only made it worse, Dior sauvage. It was a scent that was so signature, you would know if Reo had been in the room only moments prior, because it lingered. You swallowed dryly, trying not to inhale what you deemed to be the most heavenly masculine scent on this earth.

“Ground floor?” He questions politely, like he always does, looking back at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, not trusting yourself to say anything more than one word.

He presses the button once again before taking a step back, standing right next to you, his shoulder practically brushing yours. You felt the small sway of the elevator before it began to descend. You were on the top floor, and it would take a few good minutes to reach the ground floor without stopping on the other floors. You had basically stopped breathing by this point. He’s doing it on purpose, you swear. There was too much room to be touching shoulders at all, and his next words broke your train of thought. 

“Congrats on finishing the project early, it's nice to know I can rely on you.” 

‘Rely on you.’

It's the slight praise in his words and voice that makes your chest tighten, and you could see his head twisting towards you, his stare piercing your side profile, yet you stared straight ahead.

You laughed nervously, although his words struck a nerve in you. “Ah thank you sir, it was nothing, really.”

There was a beat of silence for a moment, and you watched his expression shift into something you couldn’t read. By this point, you were wondering if he was gonna drop the small talk here, but you felt an air of disappointment radiating from him.

“That's good, I'm glad you have no pressure on you for a while.” he admits honestly. Your lips pursed, and his voice grew quieter with his next words, as if he was hesitating. “I'm lucky to have you by my side, your company is a real treat.” 

The way he said it, it was almost as if he was tiptoeing around his words, as if he was…testing something with you, like he was hoping you would pick up on some casual hint he was throwing. And you did. It was too intimate for your comfort, and when you finally found the courage to turn to look at him, he was already looking at you, and your chest tightened with a certain sense of panic. The boyish smile and charm had faded completely, only leaving a serious and almost desperate look on his face. 

His voice was deeper, way deeper than it was before, it took you off guard, almost like he reminded you he really was a man. His voice was smooth and steady, and hauntingly calm.

“Why do you hate me?”

His question took you completely off guard, like a rug had been yanked from under your feet. He didn’t take his eyes off your face even once, your mouth opened and closed like a fish, pathetically trying to scramble for an answer in your brain. But before you could find one, he continued going on a rant.

“You never seem to hold a decent conversation with me, you're almost always tense and on guard when I'm around, and you seem to be even more annoyed when I try to make your life a little easier. Did I do something to offend you?” He questioned.

His accusations were so fast, and so many points were made that all you could do was look at him like a deer in headlights. He leaned ever closer, his gaze searching yours for some sort of answer.

“Did you hit your head?” Was all you could blurt out, but there was no hint of malice in your tone.

It seemed your choice of words surprised both yourself and Reo, as his eyes widening in shock. You felt your neck and face heat up in embarrassment, this was your superior! And you were damn nearly calling him stupid.

“Mr. Mikage,” Your voice cracking slightly, betraying your composed professionalism. “I’m so sorry–”

You were interrupted with a laugh, a loud, authentic laugh that left your apologises dying in your throat, your head reeling at his unexpected reaction. It left your heart stuttering at the break of professionalism he showed in front of you. He was doubled over in a carefree manner, your body still frozen from shock as he composed himself, letting out a loud sigh before he shook his head, turning towards you.

“See? I knew you weren't so stone faced.” 

His boyish smile faltered after a moment, as if he was remembering the start of this whole conversation. It made your stomach twist for some reason. Why did you care about his emotions so much? His voice was steadier than expected for someone who was chuckling heavily only moments ago. 

“You still didn’t answer my question, do you hate me?” 

“Well–of course not sir.” You stuttered, cursing yourself as you looked anywhere but his face. 

He stepped closer, his whole frame forcing itself to fill your full vision, making it almost impossible to look anywhere else but him. “Is it because you know I find you attractive? Is that why?” 

You would have laughed at his words if they weren’t so full of firmness, a severe boldness you didn’t think he would have had yesterday.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. “Me?" you answered dumbly. “You think I’m attractive?” 

“I do,” he said simply. “I find you extremely attractive.” 

Reo Mikage, liking his secretary? You? Just someone who works under him five days a week? This must be a prank–but, there's no playfulness in his tone, none of the light teasing he usually did. Just pure, raw, sincerity. 

And you couldn’t handle that.

“No.” You said calmly, your eyes fluttering shut. “No Reo, we're not doing this, not now, not ever.” His eyes squinted at the use of his first name, his gaze not wavering.

“I'm not lying. Do you think I'm joking? I’m dead serious, I promise you.” Before you could shoot down another one of his overthinking questions and thoughts he continued, “Is it because you think I'm spoiled? Or too childish, too young?–” 

“Reo,” you said sternly, interrupting him more harshly than you wished. “We are not doing this here.” 

Not only was he technically your boss, and your past boss's son, he was younger than you. You were old enough to be with his mother at social gatherings. And this wasn’t a fleeting confession you could just brush off with a lame excuse like you usually could do–he was your boss, and you were his secretary. You saw him mostly every minute of the day and there was nothing you could do about it. 

“Please,” he begged. Suddenly feeling his warm breath on your face, your eyes snapped open to see him looming over you, his amethyst eyes had lost their once confident spark it always had, only leaving desperation and softness. “I promise, I'll take care of you.”

“I-I can take care of myself.” Your voice trembled, yet you couldn’t even hear it from the magnitude of your heart beating in your ears. 

“You know that's not what I mean.” He whispered, his voice sounding more husky than before as he took a half–step closer to you, and his face was somewhat inches from yours. Your mouth was as dry as a desert, even more when his large hands came to gently rest on your shoulders. You could feel the searing heat emitting through his palms, through your blazered dress, making a lasting impression on your skin. It made your senses go on full alert, your head automatically tilting up to meet his eyes. 

A deep part of your brain didn’t want him to take his hands off. 

“I can take care, of you.” 

His frame is so much larger compared to yours, and the faint smell of his cologne surrounds you again and envelopes your senses. You wanted to scream, lash out and pull him closer all at the same time. 

“I know,” you declared finally, your voice hoarse and vulnerable. Your resolve was crashing down faster than you could think logically about the consequences. “I know you would.”

“Right.” he stated quietly, his eyes shifting to the side of your face; his right hand gradually sliding up, his rough fingers wrapping themselves loosely around a loc of your hair. “Your beautiful, {name}. Just give me one chance. Please.” 

He pleaded like a schoolboy begging to be let off an after school detention. And by the time you realised his lips were centimetres away from yours, the manifestation of your desire had severely beaten the logical side of your brain black and blue. 

“Okay,” you answered with a croak, voice barely audible, “one dinner.”

He smiled, hope–filled. Before he could get another word out, the doors to the elevators abruptly opened, making Reo scramble back to a safe distance as you were both exposed back to the hearty filled reception. He stepped out before you and walked away with an air of confidence and triumph in his steps, but not before mouthing a few words to you. 

“Meet at the Lapérouse, 8pm. Wear red.” 

･ﾟ★ credits for dividers!: @anitalenia @enchanthings-a

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