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gf2bellamy · 3 days ago

Note

queen why do i feel you'll EAT writing about shy! reader and subtly flirty post-prison reid? 🤭

shy — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: shy / awkward reader , they're working on a case so mention of victims / unsub etc. a/n: HEYY thank you for your request hope you like this i gave it my best shot <3

“And the two of you can work on the geographical profile.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of your name, eyes meeting Spencer’s for the briefest of moments before you instinctively looked away, pretending to refocus on the files in front of you. Heat crept up your neck, and you tapped your fingers lightly against the table, a nervous habit you never quite managed to shake.

Spencer’s gaze flickered down to your fingers, watching the repetitive motion before shifting his attention back to his own files. He knew you were shy—reserved, careful with your words—but over time, he’d started to notice something else.

You were even quieter around him.

Forty-five minutes later, you arrived at the police station with the rest of the team. The usual chaos of a local precinct swirled around you—officers moving in and out, phones ringing, hurried conversations about the case at hand.

As the others scattered to their respective tasks, an officer led you and Spencer to an open conference room, giving you both space to work.

You slipped your bag from your shoulder and draped your jacket over the back of a chair before settling into place. Just as you were pulling out your notes, Spencer’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“Do you want coffee before we start?”

You hesitated. You did, of course. You always started your work with coffee—it was practically a ritual at this point. But the last thing you wanted was to inconvenience him.

“No, that’s fine,” you said, offering a small, polite smile before looking back at your notes.

Spencer didn’t respond, just studied you for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room without another word.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open again, and Spencer reappeared, carrying two cups of coffee. Without a word, he set one down in front of you before taking his own seat.

Surprised, you looked up at him, eyes wide. “Spencer, you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, stirring a packet of sugar into his coffee. “But you always have coffee before you start working, and I didn’t see you get one today.”

Your fingers curled around the cup, the warmth of it seeping into your skin. You glanced away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your lips curled up into a small, bashful smile.

Spencer noticed. And he smiled too.

You two worked side by side, occasionally exchanging thoughts on the profile as new details emerged. Every now and then, Spencer would glance at you, watching how you furrowed your brows in concentration, the way your fingers tapped against the table when you were deep in thought.

At one point, a police officer working the case stepped into the room. He was friendly—maybe a little too friendly. He started asking about the case, directing every question to you instead of Spencer.

At first, you simply answered out of politeness, not thinking much of it, but as the conversation continued, it became clear that his interest went beyond the case.

Spencer noticed immediately. The officer’s body language, the way he leaned slightly toward you, the casual, almost playful tone in his voice—it was obvious.

And it was bothering him. A lot.

He watched as you shifted slightly in your seat but too polite to ignore the man’s questions. Spencer could see it—you weren’t necessarily reciprocating, just trying not to seem rude. Still, that didn’t stop the uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

His grip on his pen tightened. Then, without looking away from the officer, he spoke.

“We have to keep working on this,” Spencer said, his voice even but firm. Then, after a brief pause, he added, “Alone.”

The single word carried weight.

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze to your files, unsure how to react. The officer hesitated for a second, as if debating whether to challenge Spencer, but ultimately nodded and excused himself from the room.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, the room felt quieter—almost tense. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, not quite meeting Spencer’s gaze.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, keeping your gaze fixed on the open case file in front of you. "I didn’t mean to—"

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Spencer’s voice was soft, but there was an unmistakable certainty in it. You hesitated before glancing up at him

You shifted in your seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I just… I didn’t know how to get out of that conversation without being rude,” you admitted.

Spencer let out a small hum, tilting his head as he considered your words. “You really don’t like making people uncomfortable, do you?”

You exhaled a small, breathy laugh. “No, I guess not.”

He nodded, then tapped his pen against the table. “Even when they’re clearly making you uncomfortable?”

Your fingers tightened slightly around your pen. “I mean…” You hesitated, suddenly very aware of how intently he was watching you. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Spencer’s lips twitched, almost like he was holding back a smirk. “Right. Not that bad.” His voice was thoughtful, but there was something teasing in it.

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

He shrugged, flipping a page in his file.“It’s just interesting,” he mused, his tone casual. “Watching someone else try so hard to get your attention.”

You blinked, suddenly feeling warm. “What—”

“Not that I can blame him,” he added smoothly, cutting you off. His eyes met yours, and this time, he didn’t look away.

Your breath hitched, and you quickly dropped your gaze to your files, trying to will away the sudden heat in your face.

Spencer chuckled, the sound quiet but amused. “I’m just saying,” he continued, leaning slightly toward you, his voice lower now. “If he had been paying closer attention, he might’ve noticed that you weren’t interested.”

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping your pen. “And what exactly makes you so sure of that?”

He smiled—just enough to be infuriating. “Because,” he said simply, “you get a lot quieter when you actually are interested.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Your lips parted slightly, ready to respond—except you had no idea what to say. Spencer, ever the profiler, seemed to pick up on that, because his smirk deepened just a little before he finally turned back to his notes, acting as if nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, you stared at your files, pretending to read, even though the words in front of you had lost all meaning.

Some time later , you were staring at the board, your eyes scanning the map and the scattered notes pinned to it. The geographical profile was coming together, but something felt off—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You were pretty sure you had found a pattern, a connection that might help narrow down the unsub’s next move, but the last thing you wanted was to sound like a complete idiot.

Especially not in front of Spencer.

The way you could barely string a sentence together around him was embarrassing enough, and the fact that he had already picked up on it made it even worse.

Your fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the file in your hands, your thoughts racing. The more you stared at the board, the more convinced you became that you were onto something.

Before you could gather the courage to speak, Spencer appeared beside you, his presence so close that you could almost feel the warmth of his arm brushing against yours.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as he tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering between you and the board.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice soft but curious. He was looking at you from the side.

You swallowed hard, your fingers instinctively reaching for the necklace around your neck, twisting the delicate chain between your fingers.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, focusing on the board instead of him.

Spencer didn’t move. He stayed right where he was, his eyes still on you, waiting. The silence stretched between you, and you could feel the weight of his attention pressing down on you.

Finally, he spoke again, his tone gentle but persistent. “You’re staring at the board like it’s about to reveal the secrets of the universe,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “If you’ve noticed something, I’d like to hear it.”

You hesitated, your fingers still fiddling with your necklace. “I just… I think there might be a pattern here,” you said slowly, gesturing toward the map. “The locations of the victims—they’re not random. They’re clustered, but not in a way that’s immediately obvious. It’s like… like the unsub is following a specific route, but he’s deviating just enough to throw us off.”

Spencer’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and he turned his full attention to the board, his eyes narrowing as he studied the map. “Go on,” he said, his voice encouraging.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. “If you look here,” you said, pointing to one of the pins on the map, “the first victim was found near this intersection. The second was a few blocks away, but still within walking distance. The third was further out, but if you draw a line connecting them, it’s almost like…” You trailed off, suddenly unsure if you were making any sense.

“Like he’s spiraling outward,” Spencer finished for you, his voice tinged with excitement. He stepped closer to the board, his eyes darting between the pins as he followed the pattern you had described. “You’re right. It’s not random. He’s moving in a deliberate pattern, but he’s expanding his radius each time.”

You nodded, relief washing over you as he validated your theory. “Exactly,” you said, your voice gaining a little more confidence. “And if we can predict where he’ll go next, we might be able to catch him before he strikes again.”

Spencer turned to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s… really good,” he said, his tone genuine. “I hadn’t considered that, but it makes perfect sense.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his praise, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even as you tried to hide it by looking down at your notes. “Thanks,” you said softly. “I just… I didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong.”

Spencer shook his head, his expression softening. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself like that,” he said. “You have a good eye for details. You should trust your instincts more.”

His words caught you off guard, and you glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment. “I’ll… try to remember that,” you said softly.

Spencer didn’t say anything else, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to the board, his mind already racing with the new information.

You stood there beside him, your heart still pounding in your chest, but for the first time, you felt a little less unsure of yourself.

Two days later, the case was finally wrapped up. The unsub was in custody, and the team was heading back to Quantico. The relief was palpable, but so was the exhaustion. You were walking toward the jet, your go bag slung over your shoulder, when Spencer caught up to you.

“Let me help you,” he said, reaching for your bag before you could protest.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, instinctively pulling the bag closer to you.

But before you could say anything else, he gently took the bag from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice soft as you glanced at him. He was walking beside you now, his pace matching yours, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he was.

Close enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne—something warm and subtle, like sandalwood and books.

Spencer just smiled, adjusting the strap of your bag on his shoulder as you walked. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the tarmac, and the sound of the team’s chatter filled the air as they made their way to the jet.

“You did good work on the case,” Spencer said after a moment, his tone casual but sincere. He glanced at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Really good, actually.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, and you quickly looked down, your fingers instinctively reaching for the necklace around your neck. You twisted the delicate chain between your fingers, a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to break.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “That… means a lot.”

Spencer didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his gaze on you, steady and thoughtful. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the jet now in sight.

The rest of the team was already boarding, their voices carrying across the tarmac as they chatted about the case and what awaited them back home.

When you reached the plane, Spencer stepped aside to let you board first. You murmured another quiet “thank you” as you climbed the steps, feeling his eyes on you the entire time.

You climbed the steps onto the plane, settling into your usual seat by the window. Spencer followed, stowing the bags in the overhead compartment before sliding into the seat beside you.

The proximity made your breath catch, and you quickly busied yourself with adjusting your sweater, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing.

As the plane’s engines hummed to life, you found yourself fidgeting again, your fingers toying with the necklace around your neck. It was a nervous habit, one you couldn’t seem to shake, especially when Spencer was this close.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him glance at you, his gaze dropping to your hands before shifting back to your face.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if debating whether to say something. Then, without a word, he reached over, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he stilled your hand.

“You’re going to break it if you keep doing that,” he said softly, his voice low and warm.

You froze, your breath hitching as his touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. His hand lingered for a moment, his fingers lightly tracing the chain before he pulled away, leaving your skin tingling where he’d touched you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, your face burning as you dropped your hand into your lap.

Spencer chuckled, the sound quiet but amused. “Don’t be,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “I just… don’t want you to ruin something that’s clearly important to you.”

You glanced at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something in his tone—something teasing but tender—that made your stomach twist.

“It’s just a habit,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours. “But you don’t have to be nervous around me, you know.”

Your breath caught, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the window as the plane began to taxi down the runway. “I’m not nervous,” you lied, your voice shaky.

Spencer didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his gaze on you, steady and unwavering. “Okay,” he said finally, his tone light but with a hint of amusement. “If you say so.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The plane lifted into the air, and you leaned back in your seat, the hum of the engines filling the silence between you.

After a few moments, Spencer shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the book he’d stashed in the seat pocket. You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his fingers traced the spine of the book before he opened it.

For the rest of the flight, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sending a thrill through you.

And as you closed your eyes, the faintest of smiles on your lips, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Spencer Reid saw something in you that you hadn’t quite seen in yourself yet.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

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cosmosluckycharms · 3 days ago

Text

Showtime☆

pt2

Lullaby In Blue

When you finally get to the manor, it's dark out.

You were so sleepy. You just wanted your momma. You just wanted your grandpa.

You assume that when you get home, your father will take you in with open arms and talk as sweetly as your momma said.

Unfortunately for you, unlike how momma described him, he's cold and hard to decipher...

You look up at him in a mix of curiosity and excitement. He looked so cool! he was wearing a fancy outfit and he just looked so cool! The only thing that threw you off was how he looked so.....tired.

"WOAH!! You look so cool! Are you my dad? Momma has said so many good things about you! How about that one time when you-" He cut you off.

"Alfred, show her to her room if you will." he started walking away.

Your heart broke a little at that, but it's okay! You win him over sometime! For now, you need a nap.

Alfred walks you to your room while profusely apologizing about Bruce.

You walk into your room. And it's clear they didn't do much research on you...

The toys were better suited for a kid younger than you, maybe around 4 or 5 years old.

You don't complain though, the room is huge and you have a bigger bed than you can imagine!

You have your bedroom and walk-in closet! Alfred says to sleep and tomorrow they'll sort out the room and make it more for you.

The next morning you wake up and decide to unpack a bit.

You didn't have much, just a few clothing items, jewelry from your momma, a few picture frames, and some of momma's old stuff such as paintings and her cassettes of movies.

As soon as you finished unpacking Alfred came to call you down for breakfast.

You go downstairs to see at the table your father, a boy around 23 with black hair, and another boy who looked around 18 years old with also black hair with a white patch.

You introduced yourself to them like your momma taught you.

"Hello!! im Y/N L/N!!! Well, actually I don't know about L/N now because technically he is my dad," you point to Bruce. "I'm kinda hungry," before you could continue with your ramble Alfred shut you up with a plate of pancakes in front of you.

It's clear to everyone but you that 7 in the morning is too early to be this hyper and nonsensical.

"Oo! pancakes! I love pancakes! They're my favorite! My grandpa makes it from scratch-" You pause for a second, a very slight stop that makes your eyes water up a little.

No one could notice it.

Well besides the literal detectives sitting at the table.

You continued rambling for a bit before Alfred mentioned a playground in the backyard, recently designed for you.

"WOAH that's so cool! Can I go play on it? Please?" you made sure to drag the 'e' in 'please', that's how it always worked on momma.

He allowed you to and you quickly got off your chair.

You were about to play outside before realizing you were nowhere near ready to play outside, you still had your PJs on, and your fuzzy socks!

You ran to your room to get ready for the day, which was difficult because momma would always help usually

You were trying not to look sad, you shouldn't be sad. You should be thankful for all the things they're doing for you.

After a couple of hours of playing on the mini playground, you got tired.

You decided to get back inside and eat.

You went inside and saw it was empty. You decided to go into your room and take a nap.

You walked in and realized you forgot to go shopping with Alfred! All the things in your room were baby things, and you only had two other pairs of clothes to wear!

You didn't mind though.

You lay down on the carpet and fell asleep immediately.

It wouldn't hurt to sleep for a while...

You woke up a couple of hours later.

You woke up silently crying, you had a dream about the day you and your momma and grandpa went to a theme park.

You couldn't remember much about the dream, only that you had so much fun.

You don't know why you're crying, you had a great time, did you not?

You didn't understand. This shouldn't be happening.

To calm yourself down, you started humming the lullaby your momma sang to you.

It worked slightly.

You decided to get up and eat, you were hungry and hadn't eaten earlier.

You went downstairs and saw a boy no older than 15 eating a bowl of cereal.

You hadn't met him yet, so you tried to introduce yourself to him!"HELLO! My name is Y/n l/n!!!!! What's your name??"

Unfortunately for you, you caught him at a bad time. He had been working on a case since 7:30 am and this was his break.

"Leave me alone," he said, in a obviously tired tone.

Well, obvious to everyone but you.

You continued asking him questions, only for him to ignore you, grab the bowl of cereal, and walk away to his room.

You looked at him with a confused look on your face.

Your stomach rumbled a bit before you snapped out of it and grabbed yourself a bowl of cereal too.

You ate alone at the table.

The next day while outside in the garden, you saw a boy playing with a dog.

The dog looked so cute! You decided to talk to the boy.

"HELLO!! Im y/n l/n!! it's nice to meet you!!"

You started asking him a lot of questions, like what his name was, what the dog's name was, are you guys were siblings, and more!!

The excitement you had to meet others was overwhelming to some people.

He ended up getting the dog to chase you away.

You ran to your room and stayed there the entire day.

You wanna go home.

You ended up finding out their names at one point or another.

The 23-year-old one was Richard "Dick" Grayson, the 18-year-old one was Jason Todd, the one that shooed you away while eating cereal was Timothy "Tim" Drake, and the boy who got his dog to chase you was Damian Wayne.

You don't understand why they didn't want you, you weren't mean or evil like those villains you saw in the books momma read you, so why did they not want you?

You tried getting into hobbies you didn't care about so you guys could talk about them.

You joined a book club, which you kind of disliked since it was so quiet.

You joined gymnastics, which you were good at and kind of enjoyed, it did help you get your energy out, though!

You tried coding, which you didn't like at all.

You tried art, which you were okay at.

Nothing really stuck!

And it's not like it helped with getting your family to notice you.

It didn't matter to them, they had Gotham to help.

You didn't have actual hobbies or interests for a while.

Not until you were 12.

You had signed up for theater in middle school, and the teacher was nice enough to take you all on a field trip to a play.

It changed your life.

You knew immediately that that's what you wanted to do.

You wanted to spread smiles, just like how this play had spread joy to you and others.

You wanted to perform on stage for others!

You knew this was what you wanted!

As soon as you got home you asked Alfred if for your birthday you could have a stage.

One that was going to be demolished soon due to not bringing in any money.

He decided to think about it.

It was a strange request coming from you.

You never really asked for things like this.

You never really asked for non-neccesities at all!

But he decided to not think about it too hard.

feeding my like 2 emu!reader enjoyers lmfao

oml this took so long

guys lowk im so tired

anyways this is ass

taglist:

@shirp-collector-of-fixations @maybeethan69 @iluvcatzz @tacendxx @ninihrtss

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semisasseater · 2 days ago

Text

I don't like how you paint me― se-mi

⤷ Yet, I'm still here hanging

pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader | genre : angst, hurt, romance for 1 second, drama| warnings : hurt, eavesdropping, self-doubt + insecurity, implied emotional neglect. | summary : Se-mi’s apartment had always felt like home to you—until you overheard her conversation with Min-su The words cut deep, shattering the sense of belonging you thought you had. Heartbroken, you leave without a word. | wc: 1,174 | authors note : guys i have something to say.. i fucking LOVE gabby also do yall fw the new layout?

if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!

Se-mi’s apartment had always felt like home to you. Maybe that was your mistake.

Your hoodie hung on the back of her chair. Your toothbrush sat next to hers in the bathroom. Your makeup cluttered the counter, your perfume lingered in the air. Every little thing made it seem like this was your place too, like you belonged there just as much as she did.

But you didn’t. Not really.

Not after what you heard.

It was supposed to be an ordinary night—one of many spent by her side. You had been talking, laughing, feeling the warmth of her attention. But when you went to grab a drink, you stopped in your tracks at the sound of her voice.

“No, Min-su, you—ugh. You just don’t get it. She’s just… how do I say it? Too clingy.”

Your heart stopped.

Min-su’s voice was hesitant. “Noona, don’t you think that’s a bit rude?”

“I know it sounds rude and stuff, but she acts like a fan. She’s obsessed with me! Name one time she lasted a week without sleeping over at my house. Almost all her clothes and makeup and shit are at MY place! Why can’t she just—I don’t know? Min-su, I already have a lot on my plate right now! I don’t need a clingy girl just hanging around my apartment like she lives there! She’s always coming without my permission and shit! She’s too much, she’s annoying, she always—”

You didn’t stay to hear the rest.

You turned on your heel and walked out before you could hear another word.

Did she really think that?

Like a fan? Like an overbearing nuisance?

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you swallowed them back. You couldn’t fall apart here, not in front of people, not when you needed to move.

You hailed a cab and went straight to her apartment—the apartment that was supposed to be your second home. And the moment you stepped inside, you saw just how much of yourself you had left there.

Clothes in the closet. Shoes by the door. Your favorite mug in her cabinet. Your books on her shelves.

God. No wonder she felt suffocated.

For the next hour and a half, you packed. Every little thing that was yours, you shoved into bags. One by one, her apartment stopped looking like yours and started looking like hers again. When you were done, there were four full bags of your belongings sitting by the door.

It finally looked like Se-mi was living alone.

Just like she wanted.

You stood there for a moment, forcing a smile despite the way your heart ached. You were being ridiculous, right? You were clingy. You were overbearing. You had practically moved into her space without asking. This was your fault, wasn’t it?

Your phone buzzed.

You looked down and saw her name flashing across the screen, dozens of unread messages filling your notifications.

“Y/n? Baby? Where are you?”

“Y/n, where did you go?”

“Baby, this isn’t funny.”

“You said you were just getting a drink. Where are you?”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Please come back.”

“Did you go back to the apartment?”

Your grip tightened around the phone. How ironic. She was acting worried now, like she hadn’t just been complaining about how much she wanted space from you.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Instead, you walked.

The 30-minute walk back to your own place felt longer than ever. By the time you got home, exhaustion weighed on your body, but the ache in your chest hurt more. You took a shower, scrubbing yourself clean, washing away the scent of her that still clung to you.

And then you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, silent but unstoppable.

Did she ever love you the way you loved her?

Was it all just too much?

The buzzing of your phone woke you at 1 AM.

More texts. More missed calls.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me you left?!”

“Who picked you up?”

“Why’d you take your stuff? I was fine with it being here.”

“Y/n, just please tell me how you’re doing. I’m really worried.”

“Please, baby…”

“Y/n… I’m confused about all of this. You left the party randomly, then you took all your stuff back. What’s wrong?”

You laughed bitterly through your tears. What was wrong? Really?

You stared at the screen for a long moment before typing.

“I heard you.”

And then you turned off your phone.

You needed to change.

You needed to be less.

Less clingy. Less needy. Less overbearing.

Even if it hurt, even if it meant suppressing everything, you would do it.

If it would make Se-mi happy—

If it would make her stop seeing you as a burden—

If it would make her love you again—

Then you would.

Even if it broke you.

@semisasseater

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seitmai · 2 days ago

Note

Helping pack his bag, you paused and brought one of his shirts to your face. Gently inhaling, you smelled the new detergent he recently switched to. You smiled at the memory of him in the store aisle bringing each cap to your nose to smell. When you asked why he was making you smell all of them, he said he wanted to use the one that smelled the most pleasant to you. He had done the same thing with his cologne, and he made sure to get your favorites.

Love the domesticity 🥰

“Is that why you like a spritz of my perfume on your pillow?” “Yeah, baby,” he smiled gently. “I smell it and I know I’m home.”

🥹🥹🥹

“Hate what?” you asked, tucking a bit of his hair back. You’d have to help trim it again soon. It meant a lot that he trusted you to help cut his hair. “Having to be apart from you,” he answered after a moment, his eyes searching yours. He looked lost, but only for a moment.

So cute 🥹🥰

“Baby,” he whispered, his thumbs quickly wiping away the teardrops. Looking into the deep blue of his eyes through your blurry vision, you saw the same overwhelming sense of love reflected in them. “Breaks my heart when you cry. How can I stop it?” “I’m fine, and I’m so sorry,” you told him. He had a mission to concentrate on and didn't need to deal with your tears, good or bad. “I swear, I’m not trying to cry. I’m stronger than this.” “Don’t be sorry,” he stated, his brows pinched like he was trying not to cry himself. “Crying isn't a weakness. It never is.”

🥰🥰🥰

“I’d say ‘what would I do without you?’, but…” He pulled you back to him, his stare robbing you of your breath once again. “I don’t want to ever find out,” he said.

I just can't 🥹

You heard him swallow when he pressed his forehead to yours. Some days you wondered if it wasn’t just his senses that the serum heightened, but his feelings and sense of self. He fought for and tried to protect Steve before the serum. Did he fight so much for you because he had something to cherish and protect? Did he love more fiercely because of it? Maybe it simply enhanced the man he was and the heart within him.

Omg that's so true!! It sure did enhance is way to love 🥰

Mr. And Mrs. Barnes. Are they ever worried about being apart from each other?

It gets to them from time to time, nonnie.

Hurry Back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to leave for a mission, and it feels a bit tougher than usual.

Word Count: Over 1.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, crying, being in love, feels, light angst, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Before Mr. and Mrs. Barnes got married. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up earlier than expected today. You and Bucky were typically up early anyway thanks to work, but he was up well before the sun rose since he had a mission to get ready for. He wanted you to get some more sleep, but you refused. Sleep would come later, and you wanted to be wide awake to see him off.

“Smell is one of the closest senses tied to memories,” he said once you were home. “Whenever you smell my cologne and whenever I smell your perfume, we can think of each other.”

“Is that why you like a spritz of my perfume on your pillow?”

“Yeah, baby,” he smiled gently. “I smell it and I know I’m home.”

Setting the shirt in the bag, you grabbed your bottle of perfume and lightly sprayed it over the open bag. With Bucky’s heightened senses, he’d be able to catch the scent when he opened it. You hoped it made him feel like he was home.

Bucky came out of the bathroom just as you set the bottle back, your breath catching when he ran a hand through his wet hair. You wished you had time to drag him back to bed. Not even for sex, but just to hold each other. “You’ll have the alarm set while I’m gone, right?”

“Of course. I have alerts on my phone, too. I’ll be fine,” you assured him.

He barely nodded. You were aware that he didn’t exactly like the idea of you being there by yourself, but you reminded him the night before that you lived alone before the two of you got together. This wasn’t any different. You also understood the worry, and you appreciated that your safety mattered so much to him.

“Thanks for helping me pack,” he said, his voice thicker than usual. There was a noticeable tick in his jaw, too.

You tried to give him your best smile as you smoothed out the sleeves on his black t-shirt. “Nothing to thank me for,” you said, your voice thick, too.

This wasn’t the first time he had to leave for a mission, and it wouldn’t be the last, but today did feel a bit different. Not because of the worry for your safety, but maybe because it was the first time he had to leave since you two moved in together. In the past, you didn’t have to watch him walk out the door, and he didn’t have to look back to say goodbye.

Goodbye wasn’t exactly something you liked to say since it felt too final.

He captured one of your wrists before you could step away and brought your hand to his cheek. Your heart turned over as he nuzzled your palm, his scruff tickling your skin. “I hate this, you know.”

“Hate what?” you asked, tucking a bit of his hair back. You’d have to help trim it again soon. It meant a lot that he trusted you to help cut his hair.

“Having to be apart from you,” he answered after a moment, his eyes searching yours. He looked lost, but only for a moment

“So do I,” you admitted. He was a hero and people needed him, but it didn’t make him leaving any easier. Waiting for him to come back was the worst part. The dusk before dawn. “But it’s just a couple of days, right? And then you’ll be back before you know it.”

He’d be back with you in the comfort of your home where you both belonged.

“Right,” he said, kissing the center of your palm before he inhaled. “You sprayed your perfume.”

“I did,” you confirmed. Your man didn’t miss a thing. “I wanted it to smell like home for you.” Your voice cracked unexpectedly, and you feared breathing another word in case you burst into tears. You needed to keep it together. The last thing Bucky had to deal with before leaving were your tears.

His gaze went soft, and you nuzzled him when he touched your cheek, the same way he nuzzled you. You already missed the feel of his hands on you though he hadn’t left yet. He was going to miss your touch, too. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you whispered.

You knew in your heart you would never love anyone else the way you love Bucky. He was your best friend, your lover, your soulmate, your everything. If you lost him today whether by death or him walking away, you'd never move on from him. The overwhelming intensity and knowledge of that hit you like a freight train, and you couldn't stop the tears from spilling over. Words alone weren't enough to convey what you felt for him, and the deep emotion in your heart had to overflow and come out somehow.

Stay.

But you refused to ask that of him. You could handle a short mission like you had before. You were a big girl.

“I’m fine, and I’m so sorry,” you told him. He had a mission to concentrate on and didn't need to deal with your tears, good or bad. “I swear, I’m not trying to cry. I’m stronger than this.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he stated, his brows pinched like he was trying not to cry himself. “Crying isn't a weakness. It never is.”

You nodded. It was something you said to him once after he had a terrible nightmare, and they weren’t just empty words. Tears were a sign of vulnerability, but also a sign of strength.

“And you’re so strong. You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he added, his mind in tune with yours. It comforted you. “I mean, you have to be strong to put up with me.”

He chuckled when your eyes narrowed. “I do not ‘put up with you’, so don’t say that,” you argued. He was your man, and you loved him. If anything, he put up with you. “You really think I’m strong?”

“I know you are. You may shed a few more tears when I leave and that’s okay if you do as much as it breaks my heart,” he replied, kissing one last tear away. “But I know you’ll pick yourself up, put a smile on your face, and kick the day’s ass like you do every day.”

You laughed a little and turned your face to meet his lips. He saw the best in you, and he brought it out of you. “I’ll do my best. And I know you’ll kick the mission’s ass.”

“And I know you’ll also find me and kick my ass if I don’t hurry back,” he half teased.

“Damn straight,” you smiled, taking a deep breath and slowly pulling out of his grasp when his phone dinged. Steve was probably waiting outside. “So, we’re just a couple of ass kickers, huh? That makes for a good team.”

The two of you were similar in many ways, but also so different, and it created the perfect balance.

“The best team,” he winked, patting his pockets. “Keys, wallet-”

“Still on the nightstand, ready for you to keep them safe and sound on the quinjet,” you said, nodding to where they sat. “And I have your coffee ready in your favorite to-go mug.”

“I’d say ‘what would I do without you?’, but…” He pulled you back to him, his stare robbing you of your breath once again. “I don’t want to ever find out,” he said.

You didn’t want to find out either.

Your heart fluttered when his lips covered yours. He easily coaxed you to open your mouth to his and allowed him to take what you were always willing to give. It wasn’t easy to be the one who had to stay behind, but it had to be harder to be the one who went ahead on the path. He felt alone for so long, but he’d always have the support of his friends. And he’d always have you.

Even if you physically weren’t beside him during a mission, you would be in his heart, mind, and soul.

“I know you’d stay longer if you could, but you shouldn’t keep Steve waiting,” you said.

Bucky reluctantly released you and slipped into mission mode, silently grabbing everything else he needed, including a knife you gifted him with. You couldn't help yourself. The man was proficient with many weapons, but something about a knife… Maybe you could find an outfit for him to cut off once he came home.

Once you helped him put his leather jacket on and handed him his coffee, you snuck in one more kiss. You refused to cry again. “Love you, handsome. Be safe, and hurry back.”

“Love you, beautiful,” he breathed, slipping his dog tags around your neck with his free hand. When had he grabbed those? “Keep those safe ‘til I get back.”

“I will,” you promised.

A weight settled in your chest when he opened the front door. You liked to believe some days that Bucky was invincible, but he was mortal at the end of the day…. Human. He bled; he suffered. But the weight within you lifted when he stopped and looked back at you with a loving smile. He was human, but he endured, he survived.

Bucky Barnes never gave up, and he never would.

Touching the dog tags, you smiled, too. Life was unpredictable, fleeting, and anything could happen when he left, but the love between you was steadfast, everlasting, and you had to believe he’d come home to you. And you’d welcome him back with arms open and the love he deserved.

I hope this month is kind to everyone and that you have love like the way these two love each other. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

526 notes · View notes

annicht · 2 days ago

Text

kitten dad | Kuroo Tetsuro

or when your persian princess get pregnant by the black tomcat of the hot neighbor

-> post timeskip Kuroo Tetsuro X fem! reader | strangers to lovers

-> wordcount: 7.5k

-> tags: soft nsfw close to the end, sloooow burn, mutual pinning, post timeskip

@ anni says: I had to take this out of my head. already thinking about part two. let me know if it's too much bc I found it very dragged, idk. hope you enjoy

Marching torwards your neighbor door, you question yourself how is that even possible.

Your cat, Lola, a white persian, lies lazily on the animal carrier, and you huff annoyed, looking at her.

“I thought you hated other cats, you little troublemaker” — you mumble to the cat like she can understand you. And for her lazy grumbling, you know she can.

You knock on the white door three times. It’s late enough for the guy already be at home from work, but not late enough for him to be sleeping, you think in your head, looking at the 20:37 appearing at your watch. He’s a corporate worker like yourself, you saw him many times in the elevator with his suit and tie and his badge—

You were dry cut mid thought by the door opening, and the delicious scent of musky soap invading your senses.

Kuroo is standing, puzzled, wearing grey sweatpants and a black tank top, slightly wet hair, tilting his head. The girl next door, he thinks to himself.

He had seen you around countless times on the common areas, in the elevator, in the pool in a skimpy bikini, even at the gym. But what could you possibly be doing on his door?

You look at him, allowing your eyes to fall in his figure for miliseconds, enough to take notice of his strong biceps on show. Scrumptious. Then you focus back on his face.

“Hi, neighbor. Your cat just impregnated my kitty.”

He just looks at you for a couple seconds, his eyes slightly widening as the words slowly sunk on his brain.

“Excuse me?” — He asked, blinking. He’s either really tired or you are saying the most unlikely thing ever, and he didn’t know what is worse.

You squint, still a little annoyed, but slowly getting amused.

"Sorry the suddenness... you're the owner of that black short-haired cat, aren't you?"

You ask, and as if on cue, the little fella appeared strutting and mumbling a grumble behind Kuroo's legs, apparently curious of who's in the door

Kuroo looks down at the cat and then back at you, his eyes widening a bit as realization sank in.

“Ah— yes…” He says slowly, his eyebrows knitting in a frown. “This is Loki, yeah”.

He looked down at the cat again, who is now sitting and looking up at you with his big, yellow eyes, as if he knew exactly what you were about to say.

Kuroo crouched down to scratch behind Loki’s ears, his lips quirking into an amused grin.

“Looks like someone had a productive week,” he said dryly, casting a glance back up at you.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Productive? That’s one way to put it. My vet bill is going to be very productive, thanks to him.”

Kuroo straightened up, the movement drawing your eyes to the way his tank top stretched across his chest. You swallowed quickly and forced your gaze to his face— a smirking face, of course.

“Alright, I guess I owe you an apology?” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Though, to be fair, it takes two to tango. Maybe your girl couldn’t resist Loki’s charm.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his playful boldness. “Excuse me? My Lola is a lady of standards.”

“Clearly,” Kuroo said with a teasing edge, his smirk deepening. “I mean, look at Loki—absolute catch.”

You tried not to laugh, but a small snort escaped, and you covered it with a cough. “Okay, fine. Maybe they’re both to blame. But seriously, I thought she hated other cats. I didn’t even know they interacted.”

“Cats are sneaky like that,” he replied, shrugging, his tone light but his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long. You felt a strange warmth creep up your neck and mentally cursed him for being so... distracting.

“Well,” you started, clearing your throat and glancing down at Lola, who was now staring at Loki with her usual haughty expression, “Anyways. Just wanted to let you know that. And to ask if you know anyone who might want some… persian mixed kittens? I figure that the least you could do is help me find a home for them after they born”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re already putting me to work, huh? I didn’t realize Loki’s charm would come with responsibilities.”

You shot him a flat look, though the corners of your lips twitched. “You do realize this is partially your fault, right? Or are you just going to let me deal with a whole litter of kittens by myself?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fair enough. Consider me on kitten duty.” His smirk softened into something a bit more sincere. “I’ll help however I can. They are Loki’s kids, after all.”

Something about the way he said it, the playful yet genuine tone, made your resolve to stay annoyed falter. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Good,” you said, a little less stern this time. “You can start by helping me figure out where to set up for them. I don’t have much space in my apartment.”

Kuroo’s grin returned in full force. “So what I’m hearing is... you’re inviting me over?”

Your eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by his boldness, but you recovered quickly, giving him a pointed look, raising your eyebrows smugly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, neighbor. This is strictly business.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm, and you hated how much you liked it. “Strictly business, got it.”

Loki chose that moment to rub up against Kuroo’s leg, his tail swishing as he let out a satisfied purr. Lola, still sitting primly in her carrier, let out an indignant grumble in response.

“Seems like they’ve got a complicated relationship,” Kuroo remarked, glancing down at the cats. “Enemies? Lovers? Frenemies?”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “Let’s just call them… complicated.”

“Works for me,” he said with a wink, straightening up. “Complicated relationships are kind of my specialty.”

Before you could respond—because what could you say to that without your brain short-circuiting?—Kuroo kept going: “I’ll check around to see if anyone’s interested in adopting some kittens,” he added casually. “Can I have your phone number? You know… to discuss kitten details?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, catching the glint of mischief in his tone. You said back with a mocking hint of disbelief. “Uh-huh. Kitten details. Sure.”

Kuroo raised his hands in mock innocence, the smirk still playing on his lips. “Strictly business, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but relented, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “Fine. Give me your phone.”

He handed it over without hesitation, and you quickly typed in your number, labeling yourself as Kitten Lady. When you handed it back, Kuroo glanced at the screen and let out a laugh.

“Kitten Lady? That’s what we’re going with?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Fits the situation, doesn’t it? Unless you’d prefer something more creative, like Annoyed Neighbor Who’s Stuck With Your Cat’s Consequences.”

“I think Kitten Lady has a nicer ring to it,” he said, his grin widening.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the way his playful energy was starting to chip away at your annoyance. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll be hearing from you soon, Kitten Dad.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at the nickname but didn’t argue. “Kitten Dad, huh? I’ll take it. Has a nice familial touch to it.”

You sighed, stepping back toward your door with Lola in tow. “Goodnight, Neighbor,”

“Goodnight, Kitten Lady,” he replied smoothly, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you retreat.

As you reached your door, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, Loki in his arms, one hand casually rubbing behind Loki’s ears, his eyes locked on you with an unreadable expression.

You quickly looked away, fumbling with your keys and stepping into your apartment, shutting the door behind you. Leaning against it, you let out a slow breath, placing Lola’s carrier on the floor and opening the little grid door.

Lola meowed lazily, peeking out of the carrier as if she were judging you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, setting the carrier down and letting her out.

Lola stretched and sauntered off, clearly unimpressed.

You rubbed your temples, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. This was going to be a long few weeks, wasn’t it?

----------------------------------------------------

Across the hall, Kuroo closed his door with a quiet chuckle, looking down at Loki, who was now lounging contentedly on the floor.

“Well, buddy,” he said, crouching down to scratch under Loki’s chin. “Looks like you’ve caused some chaos.”

Loki purred in response, blinking up at him with an air of smug satisfaction.

Kuroo leaned back against the door, a small smile lingering on his lips as he pulled his phone out to save your number properly. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment as he read Kitten Lady 🐾.

He stared at it for a beat longer, that grin of his softening slightly. This might just get interesting.

----------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly enough —or don’t— he was the one to text first just a day later. You’re at work, sipping coffee after a meeting, scrambling some papers on your desk when your phone buzzed. The Kitten Dad name made you squint your eyes.

Kitten Dad: Hey, goodday sweetheart. You good? Just got asked when is little Lola due. A friend from work might be interested in having one of the kitties.

I look at the text. A friend from work? He text and I can’t help but imagine how is he at work. Is he a manager? A head? A director? Which department is he from? If I had to guess I would say Sales — he’s charismatic enough to sell sand in the desert.

I huff in annoyance with my own train of thought. Why am I thinking so hard about it? I take my phone to answer.

Kitten Lady 🐾: Hey. Vet said she’s due two weeks from now.

The response was simple, straightforward. Yet, as you set your phone down, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d sounded too curt. No, you told yourself firmly. It’s just a text. No need to overthink.

But then, your phone buzzed again, and against your better judgment, you snatched it up almost immediately.

Kitten Dad: Two weeks, huh? That’s soon. Let me know if you need help setting things up for her. I’m practically a cat expert now.

You bit back a smile. Cat expert, huh? You could practically see that cocky smirk on his face, the same one he’d worn when he leaned in the doorframe last night.

Kitten Lady 🐾: Oh, are you? Should I start calling you Dr. Meow?

It took less than a minute for his reply to come through.

Kitten Dad: Has a nice ring to it. Or Cat Whisperer. Either works.

You let out a small laugh, earning a confused look from a passing coworker. Quickly composing yourself, you turned back to your desk, cheeks warming for no apparent reason.

----------------------------------------------------

By the time you got home that evening, you were surprised to find Kuroo opening his door, like he was waiting for you to arrive to leave and talk to you. He was holding a small, rectangular package in his hands and greeted you with his signature grin as he walked torwads you and your door as you opened it.

“Evening, Kitten Lady,” he said smoothly. “Perfect timing.”

You blinked, shifting your bag onto your shoulder. “Uh, hey? What’s that?”

“Thought I’d swing by and help with that whole ‘setting up for Lola’ thing,” he said, holding up the package. “Got a starter kit—fluffy blankets, soft toys, and some other stuff. Figured it might make her more comfortable when the kittens arrive.”

You stared at him, stunned. For all the teasing and smug remarks, you hadn’t expected this. “You… bought stuff for Lola?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “I mean, it’s partially Loki’s fault, right? I can’t exactly leave you hanging.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. There was a sincerity in his tone that caught you off guard. He wasn’t just trying to charm his way out of responsibility—he was actually being… thoughtful.

“That’s… really nice of you,” you said finally, unlocking your door. “Thanks, Kuroo.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, following you inside.

Lola, as always, was lounging regally on the couch, barely sparing Kuroo and Loki—who had, unsurprisingly, followed him to your place unbothered—a passing glance.

“She really does act like a queen, doesn’t she?” Kuroo said, setting the box down and kneeling to unpack its contents.

“She’s earned it,” you replied, watching as he pulled out a fluffy blanket and a tiny cat bed. “I mean, look at her. She’s unbothered by everything.”

“Clearly,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “She didn’t even flinch when Loki walked in like he owns the place.”

You snorted, crossing your arms. “She’s probably plotting her revenge for him ruining her peace.”

Kuroo laughed, the sound warm and easy, and you found yourself smiling despite yourself. He had a way of making everything feel light, even when you wanted to stay annoyed.

“Alright,” he said, turning back to the task at hand. “Where do you want this stuff? I’ll help you set up her little kitten corner.”

You hesitated for a moment, but eventually pointed to a cozy nook near the window. “Over there, I guess. She likes the sun.”

“Got it,” he said, grabbing the blanket and bed.

As you watched him work, his movements uncharacteristically focused, you couldn’t help but wonder: was this the same guy who smirked at you in elevators and flirted shamelessly by his door? Because right now, he looked… different. Softer, somehow.

“You know,” you said after a moment, “you’re surprisingly good at this whole ‘cat dad’ thing.”

He looked up, his grin returning. “What can I say? I have hidden talents.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. Maybe this arrangement wouldn’t be so bad after all.

----------------------------------------------------

The kitten corner was finally set up, and Lola had already claimed her throne atop the soft new bed. Loki, meanwhile, was having the time of his life pawing at one of the dangling toys Kuroo had brought over, batting it around like a tiny predator.

You were in the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets for something to fix up while Kuroo lounged on the couch. The sound of his laughter floated through the room, warm and unrestrained, as Loki miscalculated a jump and landed in a comically undignified sprawl.

“You weren’t kidding about him being a troublemaker,” you called over your shoulder, smiling to yourself as you grabbed a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine you’d been saving for some occasion. This felt good enough.

“Hey, he’s a charming troublemaker,” Kuroo countered, his voice carrying an easy humor. “Loki’s got personality. You can’t fault him for that.”

You rolled your eyes, pouring the wine. “If by ‘personality,’ you mean a complete lack of grace, then sure.”

“Hey now,” he said, mock-defensive, “I’ll have you know he’s a highly sophisticated creature.”

Turning with the glasses in hand, you walked back to the couch and handed him one, tilting your head toward Loki, who was currently tangled in the blanket he’d been pouncing on. “Yeah, I can see the sophistication from here.”

Kuroo snorted, taking the glass from you with a murmured “Thanks,” before shifting to make room for you to sit. You settled cross-legged into the cushion next to him, a comfortable silence falling as you both watched the cats in their oddly synchronized chaos.

“So,” you said after a moment, swirling the wine in your glass, “what do you actually do? Besides spoil Loki and crash your neighbor’s evening.”

Kuroo grinned, taking a slow sip before answering. “I’m a PR manager for the promotion division at JVA. Basically, I work with the teams that keep the company and our sponsors happy. Events, campaigns, all that good stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “JVA? As in the Japan Volleyball Association?”

“That’s the one,” he said, flashing a toothy grin. “Biggest name in the game. It’s a lot of work, but I like it. Keeps me on my toes.”

“Wow,” you said, nodding. “That actually explains a lot. You’ve got that… people-person vibe.”

“Oh?” he teased, leaning back against the couch. “And what vibe is that, exactly?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “You know. Smooth talker, always charming. Classic PR type.”

Kuroo chuckled, resting his arm casually along the back of the couch. “I’ll take that as a compliment. What about you? What’s the story with… what do you do, again?”

“Marketing manager,” you said, shrugging. “Different industry, same chaos. I work for a firm that handles branding for retail clients. It’s mostly brainstorming ad campaigns and arguing over budgets.”

“Sounds intense,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “But you’re good at it, huh?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I mean, I guess. I like it. It’s creative, and it keeps me busy.”

“Busy’s good,” he said, nodding. “But it doesn’t leave much time for stuff like this, huh?”

You glanced at him, unsure what he meant, but his gaze was fixed on the cats now. Lola was swatting half-heartedly at Loki, who had resumed his enthusiastic assault on the dangling toy.

“No,” you admitted softly, swirling the wine in your glass again. “Not really. I guess I don’t usually let myself slow down.”

Kuroo looked at you then, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Well,” he said after a moment, his voice lighter again, “it’s a good thing you’ve got me to force some downtime on you, huh?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, is that what this is? A public service?”

“Exactly,” he said with mock seriousness, raising his glass in a toast. “Here’s to kitten diplomacy and responsible downtime.”

You clinked your glass against his, unable to hide your smile. “Cheers to that.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to relax. The warmth of the wine, the sound of his laughter, and the soft chaos of the cats were all more comforting than you’d expected. Maybe Kuroo wasn’t just a charming troublemaker after all.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind him crashing your evening.

----------------------------------------------------

Two glasses of wine in, and you were feeling a little loose, the warm buzz in your cheeks spreading to your limbs. The evening had been lighthearted—talking about work, random anecdotes, and occasional jokes about the cats and their ridiculous antics.

You were now sitting cross-legged on the couch, your messy bun more of a loose cluster than a tidy knot, strands of hair falling against your flushed cheeks. You animatedly gestured with your hands, describing some recent event at work. Kuroo is now leaning forward with that usual relaxed, playful energy that made you forget there was anyone else in the room.

“—and I swear, if I have to sit through one more ‘group synergy’ meeting, I’ll scream,” you finished with a dramatic sigh, dropping back onto the couch, rolling your eyes.

Kuroo snickered, leaning back, arms crossing behind his head as he relaxed. “Group synergy? That sounds like a nightmare. You really don’t like your coworkers, do you?”

You shot him a teasing glare, settling deeper into the couch. “I’m professional, I swear. But, seriously, it’s the worst. A whole hour, and not one person had anything worth saying. They spent half the time discussing what color the logo should be on our next campaign. I almost fell asleep.”

“Well, at least the logo’s going to look great,” Kuroo teased, reaching for his glass and taking a casual sip.

You snorted and looked at him sideways, the wine making you more comfortable than you intended. “You’re one to talk. You’ve probably sat through worse in PR. What’s the worst meeting you’ve ever had to deal with?”

Kuroo tilted his head, thinking. “Hmm, I guess the worst was this entire week-long campaign brainstorming session where we just talked about the idea but never actually did anything. People in that room were like… walking around in their own little PR bubbles. I nearly lost my mind.”

“Is that why you’re so laid-back now? You survived that chaos and just decided to become a permanent chill vibe?”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “I figured if I could survive that and still be sane, I deserve to kick back a little.”

You shook your head, still grinning. “I can’t believe you’ve been in that world for so long. You must have some stories.”

Kuroo’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and you realized you might’ve just opened a can of worms. “Oh, definitely. A lot of interesting ones. You know, the kind where you end up questioning your life choices. And not only work-related.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “You’re gonna have to elaborate on that.”

He leaned in, his voice taking on a more conspiratorial tone. “Alright, alright. So, there was this one relationship I had.” He started, and you raise one eyebrow, not expecting him to just switch from work to personal relationship so quickly “She was a wild ride—great at first, but things got a little… crazy. Started out all perfect, you know? But then she started bringing up wedding ideas after a couple of months, and I’m like, ‘Whoa, hold up.’”

You laughed, raising your glass, poiting at him, remembering the topic from earlier, but not entirely knowing the story. “Wait, wait—this is the ex who nearly got you to the altar?”

“Yup,” Kuroo said with a smirk, swirling his glass, “but I guess she wasn’t the ‘I Do’ type, if you know what I mean.” He winked, and the playful lilt in his voice had you biting back a smile.

“No way. Did she have one of those ‘we need to talk’ moments?”

He nodded dramatically. “Oh, she sure did. But instead of talking, she got me into a whole emotional spiral. I was supposed to pick out wedding rings, and I—” He cut himself off with a laugh, shaking his head. “I mean, talk about commitment issues. You would have thought I was getting married to someone else the way she freaked out.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “That’s insane. What did you do?”

“Well, after a long string of very loud discussions, I ended up booking a solo trip to Thailand for some ‘soul-searching.’ I didn’t come back with a ring, but I did come back with a lot of souvenirs and a much-needed reality check.”

Your lips curled into a smile, impressed. “I mean, I don’t blame you. That sounds like a red flag festival.”

“Exactly.” Kuroo leaned back, letting out a chuckle. “I don’t think she ever quite understood why I ghosted her after that.”

You shrugged, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Well, sounds like you dodged a bullet. She was probably a headache.”

“Oh, definitely,” he said with a wink. “But, hey, I’m better for it. You live and you learn, right?”

Your expression softened, just for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so. Can’t say I’ve been any better at picking ideal relationships either.”

Kuroo’s gaze flickered to you for a moment, and the sudden shift in the air wasn’t lost on either of you. You could feel the tension coil between you, subtle but undeniable. He tilted his head, his tone more curious.

“You’ve had your fair share of messy affairs?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, but your fingers fidgeted with your wine glass. “I mean, I was in an office relationship once. It was… well, it was a disaster, to be honest. Started out all hot and heavy, you know? But once we hit that *‘what’s next?’* phase, everything went south.”

“Office romances are always a gamble,” he said, voice quieter now. “Especially when someone can’t handle the post-work hours realities.”

You let out a soft laugh, but there was a certain edge to it. “Yeah, and the worst part? I thought we were solid. But he ended up freaking out when things got serious. Real ‘let’s keep it casual’ kind of guy.”

There it was again—the unspoken weight in the air. You could feel it creeping closer, like the world had just tilted slightly. You were both leaning in, caught in this space where the conversation could go anywhere—or nowhere.

“Funny how that happens,” Kuroo murmured, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips and back again.

You swallowed hard, lips slightly parted, suddenly aware of how close he was. “Yeah,” you said softly, the atmosphere thickening. “Funny…”

A long beat of silence followed. Then, as if the universe itself had just cleared its throat, Kuroo’s smirk deepened, and he leaned back slightly, breaking the tension just enough to let you both breathe again.

“Well, at least you didn’t nearly get engaged,” he said with a teasing grin. “I think that takes the cake on ‘bad decisions’.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh, relieved for the lighthearted tone again. “I’d be so much better at picking next time,” you said, looking at him with a sly grin. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering down to your lips once more. “Oh? What exactly does that lesson look like?”

You felt the heat of his gaze, and the sudden closeness seemed to make the space between you shrink even further. The way he was looking at you, the slight tilt of his head—it was almost like he was waiting for you to make the next move. It made your heart skip a beat.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus, but it was hard to ignore the way your body seemed to lean in just a little closer, drawn to him like a magnet. “Maybe…” you began slowly, your voice soft but carrying the weight of something unspoken, “maybe I’ll go for someone who doesn’t have a one-way ticket to Crazy Town.”

Kuroo’s lips curled into a half-smile, but it wasn’t as playful anymore. There was a hint of something else lurking beneath. He leaned in, ever so slightly, as if testing the waters. “You know,” he said quietly, “sometimes, a little bit of crazy isn’t always a bad thing.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Is that so?” You met his gaze head-on, not backing down, but feeling your pulse pick up.

“Yeah,” Kuroo replied, his voice lower now, his tone shifting, “sometimes it’s just the right kind of chaos that makes things… interesting.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke, the words heavy with an almost tangible tension.

For a moment, the space between you seemed to dissolve entirely, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was this close to crossing that line. The line you both knew was there, but neither of you had acknowledged it yet.

“Is that what you’re offering?” you teased lightly, though you could hear the slight quiver in your own voice.

Kuroo’s smirk widened just slightly, but the warmth in his eyes remained. “Maybe…” His voice trailed off, but the way he said it made you feel like there was more to it, like he was almost daring you to take it further.

You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in just a little, your lips almost brushing as you whispered, “Maybe I’m not sure if I want to risk another ‘chaos’ just yet.”

Kuroo's gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest moment, and you could feel the charged atmosphere shifting. The space between you was narrowing faster than either of you could pretend it wasn’t. He leaned in a fraction more, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Maybe… that’s a risk worth taking,” he murmured, his voice now barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced, the distance between you two was practically nonexistent now. You could feel the heat of his body, his presence taking up all the space in the room. The playful teasing was gone—replaced by something far more intimate. More dangerous. His hand reached out, brushing your hair back from your face with a tenderness that had your breath catching in your throat.

Before you could respond, Kuroo's fingers slid gently down your jaw, and his thumb lightly grazed your bottom lip. The gesture was simple, but it felt like the world had stopped. The kiss was inevitable now.

Slowly, almost too slowly, he tilted his head, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most deliberate way. The touch was electric, sending a spark of heat rushing through your veins. You were almost caught off-guard by the intensity of it, but it didn’t take long for your lips to part, inviting him closer.

His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper, as the kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. The world around you melted away, the only thing left was the heat between you two. His lips moved with a teasing confidence, making sure you felt every second of it.

His tongue lapped on your wet cave like a thirsty man that haven’t seen water in years, and the sweet taste of wine made your head spin, chasing his own tongue in a soft sucking move that drove him insane.

When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, both of you trying to catch your breath. His lips curled into that familiar, mischievous grin. “Guess that’s one way to make a decision,” he said, voice low and raspy.

You opened your eyes to find him watching you, eyes darkened with something more than playfulness. There was still a hint of the teasing smile on his lips, but now it was accompanied by something far more tempting.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice a little breathless, “I think I’m starting to see what you mean by chaos.”

He chuckled, his hand still on your neck, fingers tracing small, absent circles on your skin. “Well, I’m not all bad at it,” he said with a wink. Without warning, Kuroo tugged gently on your arm, pulling you toward him until you were no longer leaning back on the couch. Before you could fully process it, you were perched on his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his thighs, the space between you two completely gone.

For a moment, you just sat there, a little stunned by how naturally it all happened. His hands slid to your waist, holding you firmly in place as his gaze swept over you. “You look better here,” he said, his voice deep, eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn’t help but laugh, trying to hide the sudden nerves that started to bubble up in your stomach. “Well, this is a bit of an upgrade.” You gave him a teasing smile, your hands resting on his shoulders, but the tension between you was palpable now.

Kuroo’s fingers tightened just slightly on your waist, his expression turning more serious. “Better be careful. We’re both dangerously close to making some bad decisions here.”

“Are you trying to scare me off?” You tilted your head, the edge of a challenge in your tone, but deep down, you weren’t sure whether you wanted him to back off or pull you even closer.

“Nope,” Kuroo said, his lips curling into a grin as he gently tugged you even closer, your body now pressed against his. “Just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting into.”

Before you could respond, Kuroo’s lips found yours again—hungry, a little less playful this time, but just as consuming. Your body reacted immediately, the heat between you two igniting in an instant. There was no more teasing, no more games. The only thing that mattered was the feel of his lips on yours, the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer, if that was possible.

When he finally broke the kiss again, he exhaled slowly, resting his forehead against yours. “You sure you want to keep going?” he whispered, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the desire in it.

You grinned, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw, the touch almost affectionate now, despite the electricity between you. “I think,” you said slowly, your lips curling into a mischievous smile, “I’m already in too deep.”

Kuroo’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your waist as his smirk returned, cocky and satisfied. “Good. Because I’m just getting started.”

----------------------------------------------------

The make out session felt like it went on for hours straight. Enough for Loki and Lola engross themselves in the biggest nap, both balls of fur tangled on the fluffy bed.

One of Kuroo’s hand is sliding up your thigh, his long, slender and strong fingers slightly entering the hem of your cotton shorts, squeezing the flesh in his palm. His free arm is sneaked around your waist, pushing you flush against him on the couch as he spreads his legs, making yours spread in the process.

Your hair is as messy as it can get, your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are darkened and dilated, your white dress shirt have three buttons open and is half slid down your shoulder, exposing just a teasing piece of your black lacy bra, making the cleavage a white canvas for his lips to paint with soft red marks.

In swift subtle moves, your body unconsciously grinds down on his hard erection strained through his pants, offering a delicious type of friction that sends a wave of pleasure through your bodies and is both a torment and a relief. The movement makes Kuroo groan inside your mouth, and you swallow his noises like it can feed you phisiologically speaking.

You two are like a couple of horny teenagers dry humping each other on the couch and almost completely out of it. Almost.

That’s when a couple of knocks and a door bell incessantly ringing filled both your ears. Not from your place, but from Kuroo’s. And he groans deeply.

He completely forgot the boy’s night he planned hosting with Bokuto and Kenma in his place, and he mentally curses the past Kuroo Tetsuro for his life choices. But how can he had antecipated that a cat visit to spoil Lola and Loki’s future offspring would end up in his hot neighbor straddling his lap like a five course meal?

When his phone started buzzing on your coffee table with “owl guy” on the screen, he shouted from under you a “I’m coming, damn it”, more huffed and annoyed than he would like, but he didn’t care at the moment.

The scream pacified the guy out there for now, and he collapsed his head on the crook of your neck, mumbling against your skin.

“I gotta go, apparently” — he said while placing soft kisses on your skin, trying to come down from the high and dissipate the intensity between you. You hummed, already resigned with the fate that the momentum between you ended.

“Mkay…” You said, nuzzling in his hair, breathing in the scent of his musky shampoo, trying to tattoo it on your memory. “Go before the guy out there lose his patience,”

He huffed a chuckle on your neck, making you shiver, and you proceed to desintangle yourself from his lap as he stands up. Now standing, Kuroo whistle to Loki, calling him with a soft “Come on, boy” that makes you want it was meant for you. The black cat stands up with his ears perked up, slowly walking behind Kuroo.

You two don’t bid goodbye, not feeling the need to, and the things feel even more unfinished than ever.

----------------------------------------------------

As Kuroo leaves your door, hair messy, traces of smeared pink lipstick on his lips, his jaw and his neck, ragged breath, wrinkled clothes, Bokuto’s eyes widen and he tilted his head like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“I…” Bokuto started, looking from his door to the door he left “Bro, did I miss your door?”

Kuroo just rolled his eyes, trying to hide a smug smile, walking torwards his door to enter, not bothering answer his question, making the owl guy let out a boisterous laugh

“Ohoho, boy’s night just got a hot topic!”

----------------------------------------------------

Kuroo’s splashed in his couch, sipping from a bottle of water, while Bokuto is sitting on the counter stool, sipping one of Kuroo’s fancy scotches, looking at Kuroo with a funny face.

“Wait, bro, let me see if I got this straight… Your cat… banged the hot neighbor’s cat.. And now you’re doing the same?” Bokuto summarized the story that Kuroo just told him.

“That… sounded… animalistic”

Bokuto snorted, nearly spilling his drink. "Oh, come on, bro. You can’t tell me it’s not poetic. It’s like… fate. Two star-crossed lovers”

Kuroo sighed, rubbing his face with one hand while reaching for his own drink with the other. “First of all, no. Don’t call it fate. Second, Loki didn’t ‘fall in love.’ He just knocked up her cat, and now I’m stuck playing awkward in-law.”

Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows. “And you accidentally ended up in a heavy make-out session with said cat’s owner?”

Kuroo shot him a deadpan look. “Yes, Bokuto. That’s exactly how it happened. I tripped and landed with my tongue in her mouth.”

Bokuto gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “That’s insane! How’d you even keep your balance?”

Kuroo exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”

Kenma, who had been half-listening while scrolling through his phone, finally spoke up from the other end of the couch, locking the phone and tossing on the coffee table. “So, are you actually into her, or was this just the wine?”

Kuroo opened his mouth, then closed it. A beat passed. Then another.

Bokuto leaned forward like he could smell the hesitation. “Ohhh, you like her.”

Kuroo groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. “I never said that.”

Kenma didn’t even glance up from his phone. “You didn’t have to.”

Bokuto grinned wildly. “Dude, you totally do. You’ve been all ‘hot neighbor this, hot neighbor that’ for months, and now you’re sitting here, looking like you just crawled out of a romance novel—messy hair, lipstick all over you, breathing like you ran a marathon—”

“Alright,” Kuroo cut in, pointing a warning finger. “I met her yesterday. There’s nothing there. We’re done with this conversation.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes at the topic, but his mind was already back at your place, back to the way you felt on his lap, the taste of wine lingering between kisses, and the way your fingers had tangled in his hair like you belonged there.

Yeah, he was screwed.

Bokuto smirked behind his glass. “You know that’s sus, bro. You never not wanna talk about the girls you hook up, sometimes you even share too much for our ears sake. And now you’re done with this conversation? Weird as hell. Are you high on catnip or something?”

Kuroo scoffed, taking a slow sip of his water, trying to ignore the way his ears burned at Bokuto’s words. “I just don’t feel like giving you two a play-by-play of my night, alright? Not everything is meant for your entertainment.”

Bokuto gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Kuroo Tetsuro, keeping a secret? Scandalous.”

Kenma hummed, eyes narrowingskeptically. “It’s either serious or embarrassing. Either way, he’s hiding something.”

Kuroo groaned, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Oh my god, can we talk about something else?”

Bokuto, ignoring him completely, turned to Kenma. “Serious and embarrassing is my guess. I mean, look at him—he’s got that ‘I just realized I have a crush’ face.”

Kenma finally looked up, golden eyes scanning Kuroo for a long, quiet second. Then, with the precision of a seasoned gamer landing a final headshot, he muttered with a smug smile, “You’re overthinking it already, aren’t you?”

Kuroo opened his mouth, but no words came out. His jaw tightened.

Bokuto’s grin widened. “Ohhh, he is.”

Kuroo scowled, sinking deeper into the couch. He hated how well they knew him. He hated even more that they weren’t wrong. His brain had been stuck replaying the feel of you against him, the way your breath had hitched when he’d gripped your thigh, the way your lips had parted right before he kissed you again— everything seemingly so physical and superficial, but there’s a deepth he’s not familiar with in the slightest. Is it the cat connection? Is it because you two shared too much right before the make out session and he realized how you’re a mix of smart, successful, hardworking, independent and authentic wrapped up in devastatingly hot body and pretty face?.

Shit.

He needed to get a grip.

With a sigh, he grabbed the scotch glass from Bokuto’s hand and took a sip himself. “I swear, you two have way too much time on your hands.”

Bokuto just wiggled his eyebrows. “And you have a hot neighbor on your hands.”

Kenma smirked slightly, going back to his phone. “This is gonna be fun to watch.”

Kuroo exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “I hate both of you.”

Bokuto just laughed, spinning the empty glass in his hands. “Nah, you love us. Just like you looove—”

“Finish that sentence and I’m throwing you off my balcony.”

Bokuto made a show of zipping his lips but kept grinning like he’d already won. And, honestly, maybe he had.

Because Kuroo was distracted. He was so distracted.

Even as Kenma and Bokuto bickered about what game to play next, his mind kept drifting back—to your place, to the taste of wine and heat on your lips, to the way your fingers had tugged at his hair like you needed him.

It was supposed to be a casual thing. Just some alcohol-induced fun. That’s what he’d told himself when he went for the kiss. But the way his body was still thrumming with leftover electricity and his mind was yearning for a deeper connection told a different story.

And the worst part?

He wanted more.

A lot more.

With a quiet groan, he tipped his head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers. Maybe he really was screwed.

Kenma’s voice pulled him back to the present. “So, when are you seeing her again?”

Kuroo scoffed, grabbing his phone from the coffee table. “I don’t know. Whenever Loki and I happen to bump into her, I guess.”

Bokuto snorted. “Dude, your cat is literally dating her cat. You have the perfect excuse.”

Kuroo glared at him, but his fingers hovered over your name in his messages. Should he text you? Would that be weird? Too soon? Too obvious?

Before he could overthink it, his phone vibrated with a new message.

Kitten Lady: Hey, I was thinking about making some arrangements in the kittens corner tomorrow. Wanna come help me with it?

Kuroo blinked, rereading the text. A slow smirk spread across his lips.

Kenma, eyebrows widden in a stunned expression, muttered, “He’s smiling. This is worse than I thought.”

Bokuto clapped his hands together. “Boys, we have a situation!”

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #fav #haikyuu x you #haikyuu #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro X fem reader #kuroo strangers to lovers #kuroo post timeskip #kuroo tetsurou post timeskip

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inkdrinkerworld · 1 day ago

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You give yourself a haircut before your date with Remus, his reaction doesn’t disappoint in the slightest wc: 609

“Close your eyes Remmy!” You announce as you hear the front door open. Your heels click clack against the tiles as you hustle to the living room.

You’ve just finished styling your hair and getting ready for yours and Remus’ date and you’ve done something you think he’s going to love.

You love it, so you’re pretty sure he’s going to as well.

“What did you do?” There’s amusement in his voice as you step into the living room and find his hand over his eyes and his other one holding a bouquet of the year’s first tulips.

“Thank you for the flowers,” you lean up and kiss his lips, sticky gloss coating his as you pull back but all Remus does is rub his lips to father with a smile.

“Presumptuous, it could very well be for the woman I sweet talked into the table overlooking the pier.”

You hit his chest softly with a scoff. “Maybe I shouldn’t show you.”

Remus coos, wrapping his arm around your waist as his lips coast your neck. It makes your skin heat at how aware he is of you even with his eyes covered.

“Please show me baby,” his words are practically branded into your skin and you sigh.

“Move your hand,” you say softly, leaning back as he does so he can see you fully.

Remus groans when his eyes focus, hands appreciative when they reach to the ends of your hair.

“My love,” there’s a bit of husk to his voice that you weren’t expecting but as he twists a curl around his finger and gives you another once over you can’t help but feel a bit bashful. “You cut it!” You nod, nibbling on your lip as Remus gives you his full attention. “You look so good.”

You smile- beam is a better word- under his compliment, even more so when his fingers tickle the base of your neck.

“Would I mess it up if I ran my hands through it?”

You shake your head, curls sticking to the dewy setting spray you’d used.

“That’s kind of the point of it. To look a bit like bed head.”

Remus groans again, setting the flowers down and sinking both his hands into your hair and pulling you closer for a kiss.

Remus kisses you like he’s been thirsty all day and you’re a drink of cold water.

Just before he pulls away, he nibbles on your bottom lip and sighs all pleased.

“You’re gonna send me into cardiac arrest, dove.”

He sounds all breathless and it makes your heart hammer even harder against your chest.

“I’m not trying to.”

Remus laughs, pecking your lips again before stepping back to take in your entire outfit.

You’re in a deep wine purple dress, the skirt of it falling to mid-shin. The bodice is snug to your curves with a square neckline that makes you look even more beautiful. You’re also wearing the necklace Remus had gotten you as an anniversary gifts a few years ago- rose quartz on a dainty chain that sits just along your collarbones.

Remus didn’t notice it before but you smell amazing too- like caramel, honey and milk.

“You’re definitely trying too, dove.”

You giggle bashfully, even more so when he reaches back for the flowers and hands them to you.

“Thank you, Remmy.” You give him another kiss, glad that you’d just done liner and gloss because he’d look a mess if you’d worn your lipstick- not that Remus would mind all that much.

“Can I take a photo? I’m due a new lock screen.”

You’re a few minutes late for the reservation but Remus has his new lock screen photo and a few kisses beneath his shirt as well.

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin x black reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x y/n

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ramp-it-up · 3 days ago

Text

Peach VI

Peach V | Peach VII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. You two FINALLY admit your feelings for one another and seal the deal. But how far are you willing to go for this love?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: This is it! I hope the smut is up to par. When I tell you I’ve agonized about this. But thank you to all who were in my inbox and dms giving me encouragement this week. Love you bunches! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach V. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, eye fucking, Steve Rogers is an artist, y'all!, sending (almost) nudes, phone sex, possessive Steve, references to shibari, mutual masturbation, pining, references to sex in a car, the "L" word, oral (f recieving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple play, size kink, pleasurable pain with sex, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint, references to murder. Something big may or may not happen after the last line.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

Steve Rogers left you in your hotel room, a quivering, emotional, mess.

He’d made you cum, hard, but you felt that he was holding back, that if you’d told him how you felt it would have been so much better.

Or maybe that was all in your mind. Steven Grant Rogers was on your mind a lot since you met him as Grant Stevens in Atlanta.

A lot happened in a short amount of time that caused you to deny your feelings for him. And now you were no longer trying to keep him out.

He was definitely a distraction, but now you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer. You just needed to be a woman about it and tell him.

What’s the worst that could happen? You weren’t going to marry the guy, you just want to explore these mutual feelings. It shouldn’t be complicated.

Right?

You still had the rest of the week in New York to stress out about it, so that was a plus. The afternoon was ahead of you and the next day was the Summitt.

After that, you had your one on one with Steve.

Bucky told you about Steve being an artist himself during your meeting with him. So, for your meeting with Steve, you requested that you see some of his artwork, and he agreed.

You were curious to see what he could create, and you were anxious and turned on at the thought of him as a creator.

You were so into Steve Rogers.

And you didn’t know what you were going to do about that.

—--

Steve had to stop himself from going back up to your room three times after he left. He finally exited the hotel and stalked down the street back to the Rebirth building to his car and pulled out his phone, dialing Bucky and pulling out of the garage.

He needed a drive and a little alone time to clear his head and come down from you, but he also needed his friend’s help.

“Wassssaaaap! Did you get the–”

Steve cut Bucky off.

“Remember that shopping trip we took a few weeks ago? For the ring?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Meet me on 47th street.”

—-

That afternoon, you just kept your distance from Sharon and ignored her, focusing on the task at hand and all business. You didn’t want to waste energy on her.

Your energy was spent on thinking about Steve and wondering if he was thinking of you too. You wanted to text him, but you were chilling. You didn’t want to seem to eager.

You were successful in your self control until 11 pm as you tossed and turned in your hotel king bed. Doubts, but mostly need and desire, coursed through you.

You were going to find out exactly what Steve was doing right now and who he might be with. You shook your head at how much you cared; it was definitely not something you regularly did. You weren’t used to feening for someone.

You were choosing violence as you posed on the bed in front of the mirror. You sat on the bed, crossed your legs and snapped a picture.

You weren’t naked, but your panties were skin tone and your sleep bra was sheer and you were feeling needy.

Before you thought too hard, you sent it to Steve, then jumped in bed and pulled the covers over your head with that feeling of dread and panic when you don’t know if you’ve done something supremely reckless or not.

—

Steve was ready for the Summit, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Sleep was elusive, so he was self medicating, sketching your body from memory of mostly touch.

His phone vibrated and he almost didn’t pick it up, but when he saw your name, his heart sped up.

He clicked through to your message and his heart started hammering in his chest.

Sorry, wrong thread.

The picture you sent along threatened to give him a heart attack. He zoomed in a couple of times and then read the message again. What the fuck?

——-

In less than a minute your phone was ringing. You picked up immediately.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Peach.”

Steve’s growl got you wet, but you instantly regretted your horny decisions.

“It was a mistake.”

“It absofuckinlutely was. You’re joking about it being the wrong thread, right? That is mine, correct?”

You shivered at his double meaning and at his possessiveness.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

Your voice was needy and that awakened a hunger in Steve. He was beyond frustrated that he wasn’t there to spank your ass raw, but he remained quiet.

You sensed his mood.

“If I were there, I’d make it up to you…”

You were testing the waters, experimenting to see if he would give you what you wanted despite his annoyance.

If he would give you what you needed.

“What would you do?”

Steve’s baritone was silk in your ear.

“What?”

You suddenly found that you couldn’t breathe.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“I’d kiss you,” you rushed out in a whisper.

Steve paused, letting your sentence hang in the air.

“And?”

There was an edge to the question.

“And… My lips. All over you.”

Fuck, he was hard. Just a few words in your husky voice, and Steve delirious, imagining his hands in your hair as you kissed him.

“Where?” he asked mercilessly, his voice broken with lust.

“Everywhere…your face, your neck, your nipples, your abs. Your cock.”

You were definitely not a virgin, but you were blushing through the phone although your hand was rubbing the skin at the edge of your underwear.

“Want you in my throat.”

Steve had to concentrate to stay hard.

“Oh? What if I want more than that?”

“You can have whatever you want...”

A sense of power flooded Steve’s body, both heady and intoxicating at your admission.

“You should be very careful when you make that offer, Peach,” he said softly.

“I trust you.”

Holy fuck. Why did that mean everything to him? He cleared his throat.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

“Okay.”

You complied so readily, it made Steve even harder.

Your clit was so hard as you circled it.

“Are you wet, Sweetheart?”

You moaned and Steve reached into his sweats and curled his fingers around his aching cock.

“My pussy is so messy for you, Mr. Rogers,” you whispered, thrilled and afraid of how much you wanted him.

Steve rolled his eyes as his cocked jerked for you.

“Such a good little slut.”

“Fuck…”

You realized the breath you’d been holding as you listened for his voice.

“Your pussy is so beautiful Peach. And god, you taste so good. Just like a sweet peach.”

Steve knew he had you in the palm of his hand. But fuck, you had him in yours too.

“But your cunt is so tiny. I’m gonna needs to get you ready for me, Baby.”

“Is it going to hurt me?” you whined.

Steve was about to explode at your little innocent voice asking the most nasty question.

“Yes, Peach. It is,” he growled as your anticipation reached 100.

Your breath sped up and so did your fingers. Steve grunted, his fist moving faster, thumb swiping the copious dribbles of precum dripping from his slit.

He should have known it was over as soon as he opened your message.

Hot sex was happening.

Electronically.

As the coil in your belly wind tighter, you realized with both joy and dismay that you were addicted.

“Steve, “m so close…”

“Of course you are.”

Steve soaked up your cute little sex sounds, thirsty for more.

“You know what I’m thinking about, Doll?”

A shaky breath was your only response. Steve continued.

“I think I want to tie you up. Silk ropes all over you, pretty little knots. I’d tie your arms behind your back, so those tits would sit up pretty for me to slap, lick and suck. That ass would be tied up so sweet and open so I could eat it.”

Your eyes rolled at the sensations his words and your fingers were sending to your clit.

“I’d fuck your throat and cum all over that soft, sweet body. Over and over, while I tease your greedy little cunt. I want to see it drip down your delicious nipples, your belly, your hungry pussy, your pretty face. I need to see all of you covered in my cum. Everywhere, marking you as mine…Mine.”

You gasped, and then moaned and your entire body tightened up then released.

Your mouth hinged open as you came.

“Mine,” Steve hissed, tightening the knots around you both and jerking his cock until cum spurted out. He listened to your breathing and knew that you’d just cum as well.

Suddenly, he missed you.

“You good, Peach?”

You hesitated.You heard the yearning in his voice and you wanted to be in his arms, but you lied to him anyway.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled at you. He shook his head even though you couldn’t see.

“Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow.”

“Night Steve.”

—---

You needed a distraction.

Steve looked so delicious this morning, sitting on stage and serving art intellectual in a dark turtleneck and brown corduroy suit. A suit that was tailored to the detriment of everyone who looked at him.

Holy shit.

This man was wearing a corduroy suit and he made it look damn good.

And he made you feral.

You decided to give your cousin a hard time to prevent yourself from becoming a simp.

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

She didn’t look at you as you yanked her chain. She just continued to follow Bucky’s every move and lit up when he glanced her way. She was gone, girl.

You teased her some more until you saw Steve. You sighed and gazed at him, straightening your spine as you remembered how he made you cum twice yesterday. And he’d hardly touched you.

As if sensing your gaze, Steve’s head turned. Those mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared in an instant. For a moment, you were frozen. Pinned in your seat by his magnetism.

This feeling was so heady.

When you realized you’d been caught staring Steve down, you tried to change the unspoken subject.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

“Fucking-A.”

Her chuckle was all-knowing. Then she read you.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You couldn’t front anymore.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea about everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

She was speechless and so were you. You both continued enjoying the forum when your phone buzzed.

You look beautiful today. You’re my favorite thing to study. Can’t wait for today’s art experience. Meet me at the Laguardia Place entrance immediately after the talk. Sunlight is precious.

You were his favorite thing to study!

You waited on the edge of your seat until the end of the summit. Then you were up and walking out toward the entrance post haste.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you saw Steve watching you from the door of Rosenthal Pavilion.

His smile when you made eye contact knocked the breath out of your lungs.

In that moment, you realized that you were in love with Steven Grant Rogers.

Holy hell.

His deep voice greeted you as you arrived.

“I’m anxious to get started.”

Steve searched your face and found a different look from the partially closed off expression you’d showed him since Thanksgiving.

Your face was open and trusting. His heart did a funny thing in his chest. It was almost too good to be true.

Could you love him, too?

He tempered his mood with sensible words, filling the space that he wanted to fill with romantic declarations.

“I’m going to take you to my favorite artistic landmark in the city. I’ve loved it since I was a boy.”

You smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”

—--

The driver that was taking you and Steve to your meeting place was the same one who picked you up from the airport. The one that your cousin knew so well.

You stared at the back of his head and then glanced over at Steve. He raised his eyebrow at you because of the look on your face. You grinned back, then leaned forward to tap the driver on the shoulder.

“So… Nico…”

Your eyes cut over to Steve with a mischievous look. His heart beat out of his chest at the joy you were serving him along with your chaos.

“You ever drive my cousin and Bucky around the city?”

Nico stole a look at you and smiled.

“Yes ma’am. All the time.”

“Do they ever do the nasty back here…?”

Nico laughed heartily as Steve shook his head.

“Peach…”

You shushed Steve.

“Hush, I’m trying to get the dirt. Now Nico, tell the truth…”

Steve sat back and listened to your unhinged behavior on the drive over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Your spirit and your laugh made him warm inside, despite the cold day.

—-

Nico stopped the car at the Washington Avenue entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Steve got out, shouldered his backpack, and then reached for your gloved hand with his own.

For some reason, you felt like a princess as you stepped on the path. The air was crisp, and there were traces of snow lingering on the ground.

You came out of the car chattering and laughing, making Steve’s heart light.

“I know Nico wouldn’t crack, but I could tell from the way he went red. Those whores….”

“Literal Freaks,” replied Steve. “Bunny is an appropriate nickname for him, because he and your cousin…”

Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, although he fantasized about christening the backseat of the Lincoln for you and him.

The wrought-iron gate creaked softly behind you as you entered the Garden, and you looked around in wonder as the gravel path crunched beneath your boots. A magnificent metal and glass structure was in front of you.

“This is the Steinhardt Conservatory. Wait until you see the inside.”

Steve smiled and took your hand as you stepped through the glass doors into sudden warmth shaking your head at him.

There was a heavy scent of flowers and a haze of the waning rays of sunlight beaming through the glass panels overhead. It gave everything golden highlights, including you and Steve.

You squeezed his hand as you looked around in awe.

“Beautiful,” you murmured.

And then you noticed that he was looking at you.

“Yes…”

You grew warm as you looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“It’s like a completely different world in here.”

“It’s our world for the moment. Just you and me.”

He wanted to add the word Forever, but he didn’t. You felt it though.

You started on an indoor path and Steve pointed out the unique flowers and plants in his warm baritone. You were impressed, again, with how much he knew.

Steve Rogers was not a stereotypical mobster. This was a man who followed a path in life that landed him where he didn’t want to be and was trying to make up for it.

As he spoke, Steve drew you into his enthusiasm, and you found yourself smiling and relaxing, asking questions and marveling at the vast indoor space.

When you came to a small alcove furnished with a wooden bench and beneath a sprawling magnolia tree, Steve stopped and took his backpack off his shoulder, and then taking off his coat and draping it over the bench as you did the same.

"Please, sit."

His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the subtle command.

You hesitated.

"Why?"

"So I can sketch you."

Your stomach did an odd little flip.

"Here? Now? I wanted to see your sketches, not be your sketches."

You performed on stage in front of hundreds with barely no clothes on and you were so nervous to let Steve Rogers sketch you with winter layers of clothes on. What was wrong with you?

Steve raised his eyebrow and his gaze swept up your body slowly, making you shiver. Clothes couldn’t stop the intimacy of that look.

“Too late for that.”

You raised your eyebrow at him and you felt irrationally happy. Steve had drawn you.

“Do you not trust me?”

You regarded him, guardian your reaction because you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“I do Steve. I trust you.”

It was true.

Steve smiled.

“Then please, sit down.”

You gave in with a sigh and lowered yourself onto the bench.

"Fine," you muttered. "But no weird artistic liberties. I better have a nose."

Steve chuckled, flipping open the sketchbook.

"I make no promises."

You watched as he proceeded to balance the sketchbook against his bended knee. Then he looked at you seriously, holding your gaze for a moment before his attention returned to the page, and his pencil began gliding effortlessly across the paper.

His thick fingers were surprisingly agile, moving with long, sure strokes. But then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised, with the way his fingers had previously made you feel…

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft scratch of his pencil against paper.

You attempted to sit still, staring at the plants around you. You also tried to pretend that you weren’t aware of the way he studied you with that relentless focus, switching his gaze between you and the sketchbook.

After a few minutes, Steve made a soft noise, something between a hum and a chuckle.

“What?” you asked, turning your head and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing.”

He didn’t look up. But he spoke.

“It’s just... you’re trying so hard not to move, but you’re fidgeting anyway.”

You caught the hint of humor in his tone and it made you a little too happy again, so you decided to cause problems.

"Well, maybe if you didn’t look at me like that.”

"Like what?"

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, looking up at you quickly, then back down.

You fidgeted again.

"You know…"

Steve chuckled, deep and low and shook his head.

"Oh. Am I ‘sparkling my eyes at you again?’”

You scowled at him and he laughed.

“I'm an artist, Peach. I study form."

His eyes traced up and down your body, lighting you on fire again.

You clenched your thighs together to fight the flow of arousal threatening your thighs. This was dangerous. Steve was dangerous.

"You're insufferable, Steven."

“Well, can you suffer on a little longer, so I can capture more detail?”

You cocked your head in that adorable way.

“What details do you need?”

“I need…”

Steve looked at you like he needed all of you.

And he did.

“I want to capture the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, or how you're gripping the bench like you're about to get up and run.”

You unclenched your hands and sat back.

“You’re making me nervous.”

He tapped his pencil against the sketchbook. Then he looked down again to continue drawing.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

He licked those red lips of his and your eyes tracked the movement.

"The fact that I make you nervous."

The way he was looking at you made butterflies riot in your stomach. That special electricity was buzzing around you both.

Suddenly, his pencil stopped. Then, without warning, he reached out, brushing his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face slightly.

You stiffened.

"Hold still," he murmured.

His thumb ghosted over the curve of your jaw and settled at the edge of your throat.

Your breath hitched.

Steve’s eyes were dark now and his voice was softer when he spoke again, but there was an edge to it now, hinting at something rough beneath the surface.

“You always do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“React like this when someone touches you.”

You pursed your lips together and shook your head.

Just you.

"You’re doing it again," he mused as he stroked the side of your throat with his thumb.

"What, Mr. Rogers?"

You were about to combust. He clenched his jaw and increased the pressure of his fingers on your neck.

"Fighting it."

"I- I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You do," he intoned, his voice stern.

"Don’t hide from me, Peach."

Your pulse beat beneath his fingertips.

"You think I don’t notice how you react to me?"

Steve’s hand grasped your throat, pressing more firmly before he let go.

"Hold. Still," he murmured, those blue, blue eyes stormy.

His fingers tilted your face up with authority now. You froze for a moment as his thumb came up to pull your chin down to open your mouth.

“Breathe.”

He slowly pulled his hand away and you had to stop yourself from chasing his touch.

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself. If he had to guess, you were wet and ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you right now. But he willed himself to be patient.

He picked up his pencil again, rolling it between his fingers, like nothing had happened.

"Good girl," he offered to the page as he returned to his sketch.

Steve knew what he was doing. Knew exactly how much he affected you. You waited impatiently, clenching your thighs together desperately as his pencil continued to scratch on the paper.

"Done," he said, as he lifted the sketchbook toward you.

You gasped as you looked at the page.

The drawing was stunning. Steve had captured you with uncanny accuracy, from the curve of your parted lips to the shading of the different colors in your eyes. The hollow of your throat seemed to pulse, and you could almost see the indentations of his fingers.

The portrait was beautiful. And it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.

“This is… how can I thank you?”

Steve’s heart flipped in his chest as he reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him on the bench.

"Steve…"

His eyes went to your mouth.

"Say that again," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Your whole body was burning, but you stayed quiet. You were paralyzed with the possibilities.

"No? Too shy now?"

His voice made you impossibly wet. If you gave in, you were about to get everything you didn’t know that you wanted. And that scared you.

You let out a shaky breath.

"Steve."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something hot.

“Have I told you that I love the way you say my name?”

His hand came up again against your side, slowly, more deliberate. His fingers moved over the curve of your side, and slid against your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple.

He continued, tracing over your cleavage and finally landing against your throat again, pressing against your pulse and driving you crazy.

"You're shaking," he murmured, voice low, thick with need.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and gave you a kiss against your throat. And he lingered, lips warm against your skin, before pulling back just enough to smile against your skin.

Your whimper told him so much.

"You act so tough, but you’re so easy to ruin."

You raised your arms and pulled him close, fingers playing at the nape clutching the hair spilling over his collar.

“You made me this way, Steve. And I don’t want you to stop.”

His now dark blue eyes searched yours as his fingers tightened on your waist.

“What does that mean, Peach?”

He’d pulled you closer, his eyes on your face as he waited for your answer. The anticipation was so much. He huffed and then dove into the curve of your neck, inhaling and tasting you there, as if he couldn’t help himself. His large hands palmed your breasts, pressing your nipples insistently.

“Oh…my….Steve!”

You squirmed in his grip.

“I asked you a question. Do I need to stop touching you so you can answer?”

“Please, no, Steve. Need you...”

You were the queen of changing the subject.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

His lips were on the curve of your jaw, so close to your lips. You whined. He cocked his eyebrow, the question not so silent.

You huffed, making your decision to go for it as your hands came to the side of his face so that he knew your intentionality. You wanted to look into his eyes when you said it.

“Moment of honesty? I want you Steve. I feel…I want to be yours. Really been yours since you put your hands on me in Atlanta. I can’t categorize or control this feeling. So I’m giving in. Are you ready for the chaos that is me being yours?”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he reached for you, pulling you into his lap as his lips crashed into yours. His hands were everywhere. He tugged you closer as he kissed you and both hands came down to grab your ass and pull you onto his erection. His desire for you was apparent.

When you broke apart, you chased his lips and then kissed him again, greedy.

“I’ve been ready. Been yours for a while, now Peach. Since the day I saw you…”

His voice was gentle and he was looking at you like you were fine porcelain. You felt so safe in his arms. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

“And this feeling? This is exactly how it should feel when it's meant to be.”

He kissed you again and his mouth took possession of yours in a way that was tender, yet full of promise.

“I gotta let you know that if you’re mine, I’m gonna give you what you need. When you need it. Do you want that? Do you trust me with that?”

This was the important question.

“Yes, please. I want that, Mr. Rogers, sir. And I trust you.”

"That’s so fucking hot… but I’m trying to behave. Even though I reserved the pavilion just for us, we’re still in a public place,” he murmured.

His voice was calm, controlled. But those sea blue eyes told a different story.

"You call this behaving?"

You rolled your hips against his cock. Steve kissed you again and let out a sexy chuckle, then stood you both up, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"If I wasn’t," he murmured, "you’d already be begging me for more."

You linked your arms around his neck and looked up at him as the cutest woman on earth.

“What if I don’t want you to behave? Like you said, you have the pavilion reserved. You can bend me over the bench and fuck me raw. Right here.”

Steve’s pupils took over his eyes and his jaw clenched. Your stomach dropped as he looked as if he was about to do just as you suggested. But he took a deep breath and smiled.

“We’ll explore that kink later. Our first time needs to be in private.”

Steve reached for your coat and helped you with it before putting his own on and gathering his things. He took your hand and led you out and across the grounds. He pointed to a familiar building.

“Your hotel is right there. Or do you want me to call Nico to take us to my place?”

You looked up at Steve as your breath vaporized in the cold air.

“We need my hotel. I’m ready. Right now.”

—--

You were in your room again, not entirely sure how you arrived, the journey through the park hurried and full of anticipation. You weren’t thinking too hard, you just knew you needed Steve. Immediately.

You were pushing his coat and blazer off his body and feeling his chest. The steady thrum of his pulse tapped a staccato in your palm.

“Your heart's beating so fast,” you whispered.

“You do that to me, Peach.”

“Really?” you questioned, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“You have no idea how much power you have, do you?”

“Me?” you asked in a small voice.

Steve nodded.

“You drive me crazy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

It was confession time.

“It’s you that has the power, Steve. I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice gets me there.”

You felt tongue tied as you told him your raw feelings, all the while taking off your and his clothes.

“Sometimes I — I think I'm going to cum just from hearing you speak. Today, at NYU, I could hardly sit still. You're like a drug, pulling all my attention.”

Steve’s shirt was off now and you were in your bra; he pulled you near him to get his mouth on you.

“When I'm near you, I'm so hard it aches.”

“Really?” you whispered. “Are you aching right now?”

Steve groaned as you pulled back to unzip your skirt and take off your boots. He leaned back against the wall and palmed his crotch over his pants.

“Like you wouldn't believe.”

Steve couldn’t believe that he had you here like this, giving yourself to him. He had to tell you the truth.

“Look at me, Peach.”

You looked into his eyes.

“I’m In love with you.”

His rough voice pulled an involuntary sound from you.

“You're mine, Peach You always have been.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart thudded against yor ribs.

“Oh god, Steve. I- I love you too.”

Your smile blinded him. If he blinked it was because of that. Not that he was going to cry.

Not at all.

He laughed as an expression of joy and then your lips met.

The kiss wasn't soft or sweet. This was feral, sharp, and intense. You moaned into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip into yours as he unhooked your bra.

“I fucking want you,” you whimpered into his mouth.

Steve smiled against your lips.

“Good, cause I fucking need you, my sweet Peach.”

Steve stood, looming over you, all big and fucking magnificent. The vision of him, all lithe muscles covered in smooth skin, and light feathering of hair making its way down his torso, between the defined planes of his abs and into his waistband, was… Good Lord.

You licked your lips, mouth instantly dry.

Steve’s mouth hooked up on one side as his fingers worked his belt and fly. His pants fell in a matter of seconds, and there he was, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

Steve was all thick thighs, and long, powerful legs, his hand slowly stroking himself over the sizable bulge in his underwear.

You gaped at him.

Then, he pulled his underwear down, eyes on your face for your reaction. It was classic, your mouth hinged open and your eyes were like saucers. There was no way anyone could be that perfect.

His dick was long and wide, at least eight or nine inches, and curved eloquently (if a dick could do that) against his abs. It was so pretty and your mouth watered for it at the same time your pussy clenched, as you were thinking he was correct. You would struggle to take him.

His smirked deepened as he reached for you and pulled your panties down slowly, his short fingernails scratching your legs and making you shiver.

For a moment he just stared, drinking in the sight of you spread before him

“Fucking sublime,” Steve breathed, the words filled with reverence.

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby.”

He leaned over you and set about doing just that, kissing you deep and filthy, tongue diving to claim every inch of your mouth. You cried out, scratching at his broad shoulders as he suckled and nipped, worshiping your breasts until you were mindless with sensation.

Steve took his time tracing your torso with his lips, teeth and tongue, learning your body and paying attention to every sigh of pleasure as he climbed down your body.

The press of his mouth to your pussy made your back arch, and a ragged moan escape your mouth. Steve growled into you, the vibrations running through your soaked cunt.

He parted your pussy lips with his thumbs, and dove to lick your clit with the hot velvet of his tongue.

Slow, thorough licks made you writhe beneath him.

“That’s it,” he whispered, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Ride my face, Sweetheart. Fuck my mouth ‘til you cum all over it.”

You arched like a bow as he latched on to your clit and sucked, two thick fingers thrusting deep to stroke along your inner wall. His practiced fingers found your g-spot and massaged it ruthlessly, curling and scissoring until you sobbed his name.

“Love when you call my name, Peach.”

He looked at you like you were something to be worshipped, and then continued what he was doing. When Steve bit down gently on your clit, your orgasm crashed over you in a burst of white light.

You shuddered through the aftershocks, trembling as Steve lapped at your folds. Each lick sent a jolt of electricity through you, on the edge of too much.

Rising to his knees, the thick, heavy length of him rose up again, even more swollen and glistening at the tip.

Steve notched the thick head of his cock at your entrance and his eyes crossed as he slowly sank into your tight, dripping heat.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Inch after thick inch, he claimed you, stretched you, with a delicious push/pull of pleasure/pain. His length was one thing, but his girth was everything.

When he bottomed out, you both groaned at the intensity of the connection. He looked you in your eyes as your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you got used to his size.

“I’ve never felt so full, Stevie…”

You quivered in his arms. And he knew that he was utterly possessed by you. It was more than just physical; it was an overwhelming sense of rightness.

“Perfect,” Steve rasped.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Like you were made for me.”

He dropped his head and trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, pausing to suck hard at your pulse point.

“Please,” you whimpered, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. “Move.”

“As you wish.” he whispered, brows knitted together.

You whimpered and your hands grasped the sheets as he started to move. He bent and sucked your nipple hard, causing a jolt of electricity through your body. Your brain was cloudy and you scratched his back as your eyes shuttered closed.

“Open your eyes, Peach,” Steve ordered darkly.

As he looked you in your beautiful eyes, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. He started increasing his pace until he was fucking you roughly, pushing your knees to your chest.

“Yes.. feels so good Steve. Oh my godddddd, fuck me!”

Steve’s eyes roamed your body as he did as you asked. Your beautiful breasts bounced. The bed knocked against the wall and you gasped for breath, your face transfixed on the eye contact between you and Steve.

He was lost, one hand gripped your hair, and the other braced on the headboard. He fucked you hard, grinding against your clit with every stroke.

You were whimpering, on the verge of screaming as you two made noise up and down the hotel hallway.

He leaned up and grasped your throat, gritting his teeth as he asked a question.

“You want me to cum inside you? You trying to have my baby?”

“Unnnnnnghhhh! Maybe….”

You opened your eyes and pouted up at him.

“Paint my walls, Steve...”

Steve choked on air as he spurted hot cum into your welcoming pussy, but he pulled out, shooting the last jet of cum on your clit and pussy lips. Then, like a heathen, he bent between your thighs and started licking.

You sobbed, writhing as he devoured you.

“Need to eat you more than anything, my sweet, sweet Peach.

“Steve, Stevie… oh my god!”

You clutched his hair, tugging sharply. It was too much.

“Oh my God. Please Steveeeee!”

He raised his head, grinning as you fully collapsed, limp and spent. Your pussy was tender, your face flushed, your eyes gleaming.

You were beautiful.

You looked at him and shook your head as he took you in his arms.

“Are you mine?”

“Yes,” you whimpered out.

“I would die for you, Y/N L/N,” Steve murmured against your temple, panting. He held you tight, carding his fingers in your hair.

“I promise to keep you safe, and give you everything you need, I promise you that.”

“I believe you, Steve. I trust that.”

—

You and Steve stayed up late, ordered room service and talked about a lot of things, music, your parents, his friendship with Bucky, Nat, and Steve, everything.

You laughed and cried, and then settled back in his arms in the dark to sleep, his hand rubbing your hip as his breathing began to slow.

“Steve, can I ask you a question?”

It had been nagging at you for a while.

His sleepy voice answered you.

“Shoot.”

You chuckled.

“That’s just it. Have you ever… have you ever killed someone?”

Steve stirred, pulling you closer to him and moving his mouth next to your ear.

“Hmmmmm. I’d have to marry you before I answered that question.”

Your heart slammed against your chest and your eyes went wide in the dark.

“What?”

You tried to keep your voice even. You didn’t know what this feeling was that came over you. Steve continued, seemingly calm and not spiraling like you were.

“You can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. It was a joke, Peach.”

You were silent for a good while.

“Oh.”

Steve stirred, leaning up against his elbow.

“Do you… are you saying that you want to get married?”

Steve thought about the ring that he had at his penthouse.

You laughed.

“Nah… what we looking like just up and getting married like that? We hardly know each other.”

“True. But when you know, you know.”

Steve kissed you and the small amount of logic in your brain was rapidly dissipating.

“Would it make us look crazy…?”

You could sense Steve’s smile in the dark.

“…Or would it be so beautiful?” He replied.

Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled down again. Your mind spun as his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and you spoke again.

He was probably asleep, but you had to get it out.

“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

The light switched on and you were staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

——

I’m so anxious about this one! Please let me know how you feel? Reblog, comment, like. TIA!

#knock you down fic #this is the right one #steve rogers #peach fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #mob boss! steve rogers #chris evans #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #mob boss!bucky Barnes

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etherealrin · 2 days ago

Note

Hey! Love your works, it's really nice to read them and I just love your style💖, may I request an isagi x reader but the reader is kaiser's little sibling? It sounds fun ☺️

⋆｡˚꩜ a comprehensive tutorial on how to piss off michael kaiser in his penthouse; by yoichi isagi.

yoichi isagi just wants to hang out with you...but your brother is making it quite uncomfortable

warnings: slight violent descriptions (as a joke), michael kaiser gives you no privacy, one mention of google translated german // wc: 957

note: i was giggling the entire time writing this LMAOO imo such a funny dynamic, the rivalry goes crazy.

your bubbly laughs that echo through the penthouse allow isagi to relax, just a little bit. the environment is new to him, and he’s afraid that the smallest slip-up will result in his head being chopped off by one of the rather large, menacing butcher knives lined against the marble kitchen walls.

but what’s even more threatening is the way kaiser is glaring at him, blue gaze more piercing than any dagger.

“micha, you’re making yoi uncomfortable,” you begin, shooting the blonde haired man your own look of annoyance. you turn your attention away from the mixing bowl in front of you to interlace your fingers with yoichi’s, trying to offer him some comfort. isagi wonders if theres nervous sweat on them.

“he’s in my penthouse, with my sibling? am i meant to leave him unattended, to let this donkey roam around with free will?” kaiser huffs, arms crossing.

yikes, was he in a mood today.

“you’re calling my boyfriend a donkey?” yeah, you were ready to throw hands right there.

isagi had practically jumped for joy when you’d invited him over to bake cookies. he somehow managed to forget that you were rival’s little sibling, and that your house was technically also michael’s—of course he would own a penthouse with a city view. michael was an oddly protective elder brother, or maybe his rivalry with yoichi just ran that deeply; was it not enough for isagi to steal the soccer ball on court? did he have to steal michael’s bloodline too?

“go, um, read a psychology book or something,” you say, wanting to get your brother off the scene. “hang out with ness! i’m sure he’d love to!”

yoichi nods his head hurriedly in agreement.

“you think you two are getting rid of me that easily? that’s-“ your brother is cut off mid-scoff, his phone ringing loudly and persistently. you snicker, knowing that you were about to win.

“was zum teufel,” michael spits, picking up the line.

“no, ness, i’m busy…what? you seriously can’t drive yourself? can’t i…uh….i guess you’re right,” he seems to be arguing with ness, going back and forth.

“you two lucky idiots are getting your wish,” michael snaps as he hangs up, hurrying out the door. before it closes, a warning: “isagi, if you try anything, i’ll screw you over before you can blink twice.”

“yeah yeah, shitty rose.” yoichi’s ego gets the best of him. great, now he’d been rude to your brother in front of you!

but you don’t seem to mind, maybe you didn’t care, humming softly as you add chocolate chips to the mix.

"you need to move out," yoichi doesn't think he can visit you if this is how your brother was going to be.

“hmmm, could be worse. what if we made s’mores cookies?” you reply excitedly.

“the ones with marshmallows?”

“yep! i think i have them somewhere,” you pull him into your startling large pantry. the size is almost that of a grocery aisle, and it’s stocked with an insane amount of protein powder—likely your brother’s doing—but you find the small package of the fluffy white sweets tucked away in a corner.

except, you can’t quite get to it, the nook being far above your head.

“let me,” yoichi says, reaching up. he has to be on the tips of his toes, curse michael kaiser for being so damn tall!

as yoichi fumbles above you for a bit, he doesn’t notice the odd position he’s forced you into, your back flush against the shelves. you’re not that much shorter than him, but he’s gripping onto your shoulder for support, and the proximity makes you flustered. he smells good, crisp and clean, a hint of citrus in the mix.

with a small flop, the bag finally comes crashing down, along with yoichi’s balance. he lets out a startled yelp, hurriedly latching onto your other shoulder.

oh.

you blink, fazed by his deep aquamarine eyes, and the way that your noses are practically touching. his breath is ticklish, irregular from the earlier struggle, and a cherry red blush painted across his entire face.

you’re both too scared to move, stuck in the haze, should you move? closer? maybe further?

it’s like that for an agonizingly long second—still—until yoichi chooses for the both of you, his fingertips make contact with your jaw and they’re warm, hot like the kiss he suddenly pulls you into.

you’re far too eager to reciprocate, hands finding their way into his soft dark locks. the cookie batter stays neglected on the sleek white countertop, both of you distracted and lost in another world.

when your lungs threaten to implode from lack of air, that’s when you pull away, gasping softly.

your boyfriend’s face is ten times redder now.

“sorry, i- i should’ve asked first,” yoichi stammers, flustered and unable to meet your eyes.

“it’s fine, i like you when you’re confident, yoi,” you smile, twisting a strand of his hair.

you fail to notice how the front door had opened, and you’re greeted with michael kaiser standing in the hallway, gawking at the two of you.

“why’s he in my pantry?” michael’s pissed now. “of all damn places, could you two not make out in the middle of my protein powder? seriously, that is gross. i won’t be able to drink that shit now!”

“oops,” you giggle. “you’re just upset that you don’t have someone.” your brother lets out an indignant huff, ready to start hell as he marches closer. you’re still snickering.

unfortunately, yoichi cannot find any of this nearly as funny as you do—no, he’s already thinking about the hell your brother’s going to give him during the game tomorrow, convinced that both of the kaisers would be the death of him.

a/n: michael says "what the hell" in german, i just wanted to make it diverse idk. like genuinely isagi is lucky if he makes it through the week dating a kaiser sibling...kaiser is not giving his blessing for the wedding LMFAO

masterlist!

#rip my boy isagi #kaiser's possesive of his own bloodline atp #he would NOT wanna end up w brother in law isagi #bllk x reader #blue lock #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk fluff #michael kaiser #kaiser blue lock #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #bllk isagi #blue lock isagi #isagi x reader #isagi x you #yoichi x reader

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drewswife · 2 days ago

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summary: Rafe Cameron takes y/n golfing for the first time

warnings: fluff, s3 Rafe, y/n is lowkey ditzy in this

"Okay, okay, I think I've got this," you say, adjusting the tiny pink visor Rafe insisted you wear. You grip the golf club like it's a foreign object, which, honestly, it kind of is.

Rafe stands behind you, his hands gently covering yours. "Relax, sweetheart. It's just a swing. Don't think too much."

"Easy for you to say," you mutter, eyeing the golf ball with suspicion. "You've been doing this since you were in diapers."

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, stepping away slightly. "Just remember what I told you. Feet shoulder-width apart, bend your knees a little, and keep your eye on the ball."

You try to mimic his stance, but end up wobbling precariously. "Are you sure this is how humans are supposed to stand?"

Rafe laughs, his arm snaking around your waist to steady you. "You're adorable," he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. "Now, focus."

Taking a deep breath, you try to remember his instructions. You swing the club back, but lose your balance and end up flailing wildly. Instead of a satisfying thwack, there's a pathetic thud as the club connects with the ground.

"Oops," you say sheepishly, offering Rafe an apologetic smile.

He bursts out laughing, but there's fondness in his eyes. "Don't worry, you'll get it eventually."

"I don't know," you sigh, feeling a bit discouraged. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for golfing."

"Nonsense," Rafe says, taking the club from you. "Here, let me show you something."

He demonstrates a perfect swing, the club connecting with the ball in a resounding crack. The ball soars through the air, landing impressively close to the hole.

"Wow," you breathe, genuinely impressed. "That was amazing."

"See?" Rafe says, grinning at you. "It's not that hard."

"Yeah, but you're a pro," you point out. "I'm just a beginner."

"Then let me teach you," he says, stepping closer. He places his hands on your waist, gently guiding you into the correct position. His touch sends shivers down your spine. "Just relax and feel the swing."

With his help, you manage to make contact with the ball, sending it flying a few yards down the fairway. It's not the most impressive shot, but it's a start.

"See? You're a natural," Rafe says, beaming at you.

"Maybe with a lot more practice," you admit, grinning back.

The rest of the afternoon is spent in a similar fashion. You shank a few shots, whiff completely a couple of times, but with Rafe's patient guidance, you start to improve. More importantly, you're having fun.

As the sun begins to set, you and Rafe walk hand-in-hand back to the clubhouse.

"Thanks for taking me golfing," you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I had a really great time."

"Anytime, baby," he says, kissing the top of your head. "Maybe we can make this a regular thing."

"I'd like that," you reply, smiling to yourself. Maybe golf wasn't so bad after all

a/n: for @chrissweetheart' and if there are spelling mistakes lmk!

taglist: @chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

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cybrasigilism · 10 hours ago

Note

could u maybe do like mutual virginity loss with player 125? like both of them r so shy and awkward,, i think it would be adorable.,.

So Anxious (Park Min-su/Player 125 X F! Reader SMUT)

character: park min-su (player 125)

A/N: decided to make this one an out of the games kinda post! i absolutely adore the idea of the reader being just as shy and nervous about the whole ordeal as min-su, thank you for the cute request! hope you enjoy :)

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

➤ since you were both serious about having you first be with someone special, you guys definitely tried to talk it out beforehand. but you both ended up becoming too flustered to really continue.

“how are we gonna be able to do it if we can’t even talk about it?”

“i don’t know…i still want to though..”

➤ when you guys eventually decided to get to it, you initiated the kiss but pulled away almost immediately, covering your face sheepishly.

“sorry! am i moving too fast?”

“n-not at all!” (he was definitely blushing himself, conflicted whether or not to hide the tent in his pants considering what you two were trying to do here)

➤ at first, you guys tried making out in the typical position— you being underneath him. but, you could tell min-su wasn’t exactly confident like this, so you guys switched up to where you would be straddling him. this drove him nuts of course

➤ once you guys got into the groove of things, your nerves began to calm. sure you were both shaking, but it had a bit more to do with the sheer anticipation now coursing through your bodies each time your lips met. it wasn’t made any better when min-su eventually snuck his hands up your shirt, caressing your bare back with his cold palms. the noise you made startled him, which you felt bad for

“oh, i’m sorry.. was that too much?”

“no! no, your hands are just c-cold.. that’s all..”

“ah, did you want me to stop or-“

you shake your head “feels nice, don’t stop on my account.”

➤ you’re unsure if you should at first, but you start to grind on him, drawing a unexpected moan from beneath the kiss you were currently sharing. you broke the kiss as you started to subconsciously grind harder, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment at the expression that must have been painting your face just then. you could tell min-su was repressing his voice just as much as you were your own— you were both positively petrified to make any sound at all, in fact. but, some stifled moans made their way past as he shifted his grasp from your back to your hips.

➤ when you guys actually ended up having sex, it was a swift matter for both parties. i mean, let’s be real here. you were both completely inexperienced virgins, you couldn’t be surprised that you guys both wound up cumming fast. however swift it may have been, you enjoyed it nonetheless. he wasn’t too big, so it didn’t hurt too badly, but it was enough to make you feel better than your fingers ever could.

➤ oh yeah, and you guys could forget about masking those moans of yours any longer. the moment you sank down onto his dick, min-su was a goner. you had never heard him make such a sound in all your life, and you even asked him if he was alright initially. sure, you may not have been so vocal at first contact, but as soon as you started moving that completely turned on its head.

➤ after the fact, you both just kind of laid there next to one another. silent. come on, you had just changed the trajectory of your friendship forever, that was a lot to process. after a moment though, you both found that neither of you could wipe those stupid grins off your faces. you had just changed the entire path of your friendship, forever. and you were both okay with that

AAAA thank you so much for this adorable request! i absolutely loved writing some soft smut, however short it may have been :) thanks for reading again, and i’ll see you on the next one!

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day/night lovelies 💋💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agorsnotworld @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

#squid game 2 #squid game #fanfiction #squid game smut #squid game x reader #x reader fanfiction #imagines #player 125 x reader #min su x reader #player 125 #x reader smut

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glassrowboat · 1 day ago

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In Your Capable Hands. Mydei.

Summary: Chartonus himself claims Mydei's weapon holds divinity, majesty, and compassion all in the temper of a single spear head, a fitting weapon for a man like him. Regal, seemingly unforgiving, but kind all the same. It's why you never hesitate to take the blade from him even when it's still covered in blood to wash it all away despite the thoughts that still linger in your mind about the man from Castrum Kremnos.

I should not be trusted with my knowledge of blacksmithing// Suggestive //not proofread, but it's 1am for me

The towel in your hands had received one cut already, splitting it in half on the edge of a dull blade. It was desperate to stay together, even if it meant a few scraggly bits of red string dyed in the ichor of life were the only thing keeping it whole; as one.

Beneath the cloth was a spear, one that had also been broken. Time and time again, you had fixed it at the behest of your master Chartonus, only to have to once again piece it back together the next time Mydei had come to the smithy with guilt on his face and an apology for being too rough with your work. Yet he would always do it again.

At first you had told him off, or tried to, as you told him he needed to prioritize his weapon just as much as a man would his life, but....well, it made sense that argument hadn't exaclty resonated with him.

So once again, you sat at your workbench with Mydei waiting paitently at the counter. His arms were crossed as he watched the people pass by. Two little boys had stopped to say hello. To call him their big brother and share how excited they are for their next training session before running along as children do. Another had been one of his own men. They only exchanged a brief nod before they both went along their day. And lastly, there was you: occasionally given a word or two as you worked.

It helped pass the time, so you welcomed it well enough, answering any questions he had about how busy you had been today or your thoughts on the weather. Small talk, really, but it helped keep your mind busy enough and wouldn't distract you from what you were trying to get done.

Finally, you tossed the rag aside. It landed with a wet thwap in the metal bin.

"It's not broken. It just needs some sharpening." You said as you lifted the spearhead up to catch a stray beam of light.

Those with an untrained eye wouldn't even notice the cracks in the blessed metal, but those that could would always see it clear as day. It almost reminded you of kintsugi, but this was your masters work and not someone with an eye for gold who needed to pieceback together a broken bowl.

"That's fine." You heard behind you, Mydei's gruff voice filling your ears now that there wasn't a hammer going to town on an unfinished sword.

"Right, just give me a moment, then."

His head turned back to look at you, golden eye watching as you pried the nails keeping it mounted to the polished shaft and dropped them back down into a tin you kept close by for the smaller objects. It was full of tiny knicknacks just as much as it was full of soot and dust.

"What do I owe you for this?"

"The same as usual."

Meaning: Aglaea would cover it.

He hummed at that, wordlessly telling you he heard what you said.

"You know, with the amount of times I've done this for you, I'd think you would have figured it out on your own." Your hand dropped into the bucket of water at your side to pull out the whetstone. It had been soaking for long enough now, to the point you hadn't spotted a single bubble rising to the top of the water to pop open once it was exposed to the open air.

You wiped your hand off on your pants as Mydei spoke.

"I find it's best to leave this to someone who knows exactly what they're doing."

"If you say so. Or maybe you just can't get the hang of it."

The blade met the rock before you with a soft tap as you adjusted the angle, doing your best to get the proper forty-five degree angle you wanted before starting. The moment you did, you ran the blade up and down the block. You had once compared the grating to nails on a chalkboard, and in a way, you did still feel that same soft withdrawal tugging at you, but it came with a tinge of comfort now instead of a need to make it stop.

Your hands did the rest. Years of practice paying off as muscle memory took over, leaving your mouth free to prattle.

"Well, I can always walk you through it." You offered.

"There's no need."

"It'll be good to know."

His boots thudded behind you, creating a soft click every time the heel met the bricks below you both as Mydei slowly approached to stand behind you. You could feel him towering over you from where you sat. Even when you were standing, he always had to look down at you, leaving you feeling small in comparison, but the way his shadow loomed over you now as it blocked out the light coming from Kephale only made you all the more aware of that fact. "I already know how. I just want to leave the proper care to someone who knows how to treat it delicately."

The grating stopped for just a moment as your hands stilled. "Yeah? So you know that you have to start at the base before working your way up to the tip?"

"I know you skipped honing the blade."

"...Wasn't needed."

Your attention narrowed back on the blade, its distinct smell of rusted blood drowned out by...him. It was obvious he hadn't stopped by the baths to wash off before visiting you, clearly finding his weapon for more importance, leaving Mydei covered in sweat that had yet to be washed away. You had picked it up before when you had taken the spear from him after he had dropped it on the work table, but now it was suffocating you.

Gone was the ash you knew was filling your nostrils and staining the black from keeping the fire beside you both alight and roaring.

"And I would have done it, possibly ruining the blade in the process and having to bring it back here regardless. I'm just being efficient."

The thought to shoot back with the fact a metal blessed by the Titan's themselves wasn't that delicate lingered in your mind, but that thought was quickly quenched by the feeling of metal claws on your shoulder. You could feel the pinpricks of them poking at your skin, just barely digging in. It was cold in comparison to the heat you had been surrounded by all day, making it a welcome change even when you were still on high alert about just who was behind you.

And for some reason, you almost wished his soft hold on you would tighten just enough. You could feel those claws breaking your skin.

"Right. Well....good call then."

You couldn't help but cringe at how you stammered over your words, but it seemed to be enough to satisfy whatever Mydei had wanted from you as he backed away and returned to the spot he had been collecting dust in before.

"What was that?" You whispered to yourself.

Shaking that entire encounter off the best you could, your attention went back to the blade in your hand, now noticeably held at a fifty degree angle.

Wrong.

It was wrong.

Your head shook side to side.

"You know, it might be best to go out and shop for a bit, Lord Mydei. This will take some time, and I want to see about hammering out the dents in your pauldron. Maybe shining it too if you take too long to get back."

You didn't risk looking back at him, not when you were unsure why desire had come over you so quickly.

Not even when you knew he was wordlessly taking off the armor on his shoulder. Each little chime of a buckle being undone made you move your hands a little faster and press the blade just a bit too hard into the whetstone.

You'd have to properly attend to it later. Check it. See if it needs replaced-

You flinched as the bronze metal filled your eyes, the familiar shape of it delicately placed down by your side.

"Calm down. Haven't I told you before that I'm not a mindless brute?"

Swallowing, you got out a yes.

"Then"- His head ducked down, meeting you at the same height to give Mydei a chance to glance at you properly. Your thighs clenched at having him so close, the heat from before having barely even dwindling and now reigniting as if you had used a bellow to cause a stir. Like this, you couldn't meet his eye. Not when you weren't sure if it would mean you would be tempted to break the space between you.

Ultimately, he pulled away. "Forget it."

A moment of silence passed.

"You should leave me your gauntlets as well."

"Fine."

They soon joined the growing pile on your table, rattling it and causing it to tilt to the side now that there was more weight where the one uneven leg was. You had been meaning to fix it, but like many things in your day to day life, it had gone unattended to.

"I'll get to that right away."

"Then we're done here?"

"Yes, Lord Mydei."

He pushed himself away from you, boots thudding against the stone once again as he headed back to the busy street full of colorful fabrics and stalls just waiting to be perused at his leisure. A single merchant had even waved to him, hoping to draw Mydei in with promises of a sale. Their hand hung in the air, yet his eyes turned back to you.

Only to see you staring right back at him. You could only hope the heat you felt in your cheeks wasn't noticeable, or at least could be passed off as a side effect of the sunny day. "Ah, goodbye then."

His hands, covered in callouses and scars painting his fingers to his palm, slid into the pockets of his trousers, hiding away just how big they were. "What time should I come to pick everything back up?"

"Well, given I'm handling your gauntlets, too, I'd say tomorrow morning."

"I'll leave it in your capable hands." With that, he walked away.

You watched for a moment, lips pinched together before dropping your head down to the table before you to groan.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

That's what you were.

You wanted to scream and shout, maybe even go and kick that one beam in the smithy you always abused when you were agitated with your latest project. Anything would do as long as it took the edge off of where your mind was drifting as you looked back at the gauntlet before you, the five clawed fingers curled just so.

Stupid. It's stupid.

And worst off, in your own fit of self-denial, you had missed the way Mydei has adjusted himself in his pants in a desperate attempt to hide himself away.

#hoyoverse #gn reader #mydei #mydei x reader #mydei x you #mydei x y/n #hsr x reader #x reader #honkai sr #honkai star rail #cw suggestive

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