#and no before anyone asks in the notes i will not be naming it

[sleepyhoon]

i see you (always, forever). - l.hs

synopsis. following your ex boyfriend’s sudden disappearance, lee heeseung seemingly enters your life at the perfect time.

pairing. stalker bf!heeseung x fem reader

genre. dark romance, smut, light humor.

word count. 6.1k+

warnings. swearing, obsessive behavior, stalking, brief mention of drink spiking (doesn’t actually happen), mention of alcohol consumption, person held in captivity, mention of past infidelity, extremely brief mention of childbirth, smut [ consensual somno, oral (fem receiving), p in v, sex toy usage ]. this fic contains dark content and is not at all how i view these idols. minors and ageless blogs dni. 18+ content read at your own discretion.

featuring. hwang yeji & shin ryujin (itzy)

a/n. happy valentine’s day babies!! wanted to do something cute and light but i fear it just wasn’t working out … so this right here is for my dark romance girlies hehe enjoy! drew inspo from the television show “you”! shoutout to bae @yangkkomi for beta reading

Lee Heeseung has the worst case of separation anxiety when it comes to you.

The mere thought of being away from you for too long is enough to send him into a spiral, and you barely even realize the effect you had on him. His naturally clingy nature raised no concerns to you; in fact, you relish in his borderline unhealthy infatuation with you — seeing as your previous boyfriend of ten months disappeared on a random Tuesday afternoon, leaving nothing behind but a note claiming he needed to start a new life.

The week of Park Jongseong’s sudden disappearance was agonizing. Yes, he assured everyone he was okay and simply was moving onto a new chapter in his life, and that no one drove him to make such a rash decision, but something about the situation didn’t sit well with you.

Jongseong wasn’t impulsive in the slightest, and you would argue he was one of, if not the most, mature, level headed men you’ve dated. He was distant at times which often felt unsettling, but had his reasonings and assured you he couldn’t have been happier in the relationship. That was one of your favorite things about Jongseong, how he always knew just what to say to calm your nerves, and how he always had a rational explanation for everything.

Running away so suddenly was out of character for him, and a part of you feared that, despite the note left behind, there was something malicious going on that led to his disappearance.

Your older sister, Yeji, had just given birth and was in the midst of planning her wedding, while your parents deemed themselves as “too busy to deal with your issues”, leaving you to become a shell of yourself without having anyone to confide in. Days turned into weeks of you locking yourself in your apartment, typing your ex boyfriend’s name into the search bar over and over, hoping something new would pop up; but nothing ever did.

After a long, tiring day of Zoom meetings and doing more research on Jongseong, your eyes had begun to flutter shut when a knock on your front door wakes you. Expecting it to be your Doordash driver dropping off a greasy, million calorie cheeseburger and a can of soda, you yell out to leave it at the front door. The knocking persisted, and with a sigh, you dragged your feet all the way to the front door, certainly shocked at the man that stood before you.

You don’t even give him the chance to explain himself before you’re asking, “Why do you look familiar?”

He grins at you, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the cardboard box in his hands. “Unless you’re a book lover we probably don’t know each other; I’m a manager of a bookstore downtown, I’m there all the time.”

“Is it… Brookhaven? You guys have K-pop albums too, right?”

“Book-haven,” he corrects you with a polite nod, “and, yeah, we have albums. Have you been to the shop?”

“A few times.” You mumble, suddenly feeling very self conscious of your outfit choice. With the option to have your camera off during the Zoom meetings, you felt no desire to get dressed for the day, opting to work in your oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts. 

The unnamed man wore casual clothing — a grey North Face jacket atop a black t-shirt and white cargos — yet, you felt completely underdressed in comparison to him. His gaze was piercing yet gentle, like he carried a certain confidence about himself in a way that didn’t come off as cocky or arrogant. Though, you really couldn’t blame him if he were the conceited type; he was definitely an attractive man.

The silver chain on his neck had been paired perfectly with matching earrings, including a silver hoop on his helix. His hair, though likely not his natural color, suited him perfectly; the subtle curls and waves giving him a classic, boyish look with bangs that fell just beneath his eyebrows.

You clear your throat, gesturing towards the package in his hands, “Are you dropping this off?”

“Yes! Uh, FedEx dropped off some packages at my store yesterday and it looks like this must’ve gotten mixed in,” he explains, extending the package towards you, “I tried calling the number on the label yesterday but no one answered, so I’m just swinging by to drop it off.”

You accept the package, rolling your eyes at the mixup. “FedEx is always doing bullshit.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, “Trust, I’m fully aware. The driver for our block is this old-ass man; I once caught him asleep in his truck.”

You laugh a little too loud at this, inwardly cringing at yourself afterwards as you tuck the package beneath your arm. “Well, thanks for bringing my package…?” You trail off, hoping he’ll complete your sentence by offering you his name.

“Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.”

“Thank you, Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.” You repeat, earning a grin from him.

“No worries,” he responds, fishing something out of his pocket, “and feel free to stop by the store sometime, especially now that you have a coupon.” He says, offering you the small slip of paper from his pocket.

You accept it, eyes widening at the “BOGO FREE KPOP ALBUM” staring back at you. “I…is this real? You really don’t have to.”

Heeseung shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It’s no big deal, I keep coupons on me to hand out, anyway. Plus, we’re trying to make room for more stock.” He says, slowly walking backwards down the hall as he inches away from your door. Like a magnet, your body automatically angles towards him, hoping he’ll say something else.

“You’ll just have to request a manager when you’re ready to use it, regular associates can’t process certain coupons under their employee number.”

You nod, free-hand gripping the doorframe as your eyes follow Heeseung, “What days do you work?”

He shrugs again, “Doesn’t have to be me, I have two assistant managers that are there pretty often.”

“Right, but, when are you there?”

He pauses, titling his head at you before responding, “Monday through Friday, eleven-to-eight. Sometimes I stop by once or twice on the weekends to check in.”

“Will you be there tomorrow?”

“All day, eleven-to-eight.”

The following morning, you had the sudden urge to buy a K-pop album and get another one for free.

Heeseung had spent a good portion of that morning conversing with you from behind the counter, listening intently when you got on the topic of your previous boyfriend’s disappearance. It’s still a touchy subject for you, and probably not the best thing to talk about while getting to know a guy you’re interested in, but Heeseung’s question on how “such a pretty girl” like you was single required a truthful answer. Initially, you feared your response of “my boyfriend went missing” would be enough to scare him off, but Heeseung didn’t seem phased in the slightest.

In fact, in the two-and-a-half months you’d been dating Heeseung there was almost nothing you could say or do that would phase him to the point of genuine concern. Not how it took an insane amount of motivation for you in order to clean your apartment (he was fine cleaning it himself), or how often you’d forget to take your very much needed medication (he was more than happy to remind you every morning and night, and even went as far as requesting a refill when the bottle was nearly empty and picking it up for you). Catering to your every need was just another simple task for him, and you’re more than grateful that the universe seemingly dropped him right in your lap when you needed it most.

Heeseung was patient, understanding, and was absolutely devoted to your relationship. In his eyes, you deserved nothing but the best, and was keen on making sure to provide for you. 

Cooking for you was probably his favorite task. He wasn’t the best at it per se, but improved with every attempt, and you seemed to enjoy his meals despite them not being to his liking.

He’d woken up early this morning to prepare a Valentine’s day breakfast for you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead as he slipped out of bed and into your kitchen. The original plan was to go all out and cook a ridiculous breakfast feast he’d seen on TikTok that featured cinnamon rolls, sausage, and fluffy pancakes.

He burnt the first batch of cinnamon rolls and decided it best to simplify your feast down to eggs, bacon, and french toast sticks. Slightly disappointed that his original plan didn’t work out, your boyfriend sighs at himself as he pours a glass of cranberry juice before setting it on a wooden tray table. How he made it to your bedroom without dropping everything was beyond him, considering how he was still weak from sleep and could hardly keep his eyes open.

Heeseung pushed the door open with his foot, peeking his head in slightly and furrowing his brows at your sleeping figure. If not from the noise of clattering dishes, he was almost certain the smell of food would be enough to wake you up. He knew you were a heavy sleeper, but never realized how heavy.

“How are you still asleep?” He mumbles to himself with a sigh, setting the tray of food on your desk before retreating to your bed. He digs his knee into the edge of the  mattress, gently shaking your leg in an attempt to wake you. You don’t budge, your slumber remaining unaffected as the sounds of your light snoring continue to fill the room. His fingers trail down your leg until they reach the sole of your foot, his fingernails softly tickling the sensitive area until you’re jerking your leg away in discomfort.

“Weirdo.” You say through a yawn, angling your body until you’re laying on your side.

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your insult, grabbing ahold of your leg as he responds, “A true weirdo would’ve put their mouth on it, you’re lucky it’s just me. Now get up, I made breakfast.”

Waking you up was no easy task, whether it was seven in the morning or half past noon. Heeseung suspects you’re still recovering from sleep debt after all the nights you’d spent lying awake researching Jongseong’s disappearance. The nights you could sleep didn’t typically didn’t last long; it’d either take hours until you finally drifted off, or you’d wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare; leaving you unable to go back to sleep.

Your sleep schedule hadn’t gotten back on track until you met Heeseung, who made sure you were taking melatonin, iron pills, and just about anything that would help you sleep soundly and feel less tired during the day. And while the extra supplements may be working, there was still a lot of sleep debt you were recovering from; an almost concerning amount that made it difficult for you to get up most days.

You groan into your pillow when the smell of Heeseung’s freshly made breakfast hits your nose, your mouth nearly salivating from the scent alone. As much as you wanted to sit up and start eating, your limbs were still heavy with exhaustion. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be up,” you plead, “I promise.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “Y/N,” he whines, “just get up, I wanna spend time with you before work. You can go back to sleep after I leave.”

Today was the release day of author, Shin Ryujin’s, newest sapphic romance novel that Heeseung could not remember the title of; just that it featured a lot of smut, has over twenty-four chapters, and was highly anticipated. Her team had reached out to Bookhaven not too long ago, inquiring about hosting a Q+A session and book signing event on the day of its release. Initially, Heeseung had planned to reject the offer since it fell on Valentine’s day and that type of event required his presence, and he’d originally planned on spending the entire day with you. The payout of said event, however, was more than enough to get him on board.

He’d be leaving the shop and heading over to you around five, and have Sunoo or Jungwon close up, leaving him with just seven hours with you that he’d planned to make the most of. All he needed now was for you to wake the hell up before he has to leave.

You still don’t budge, mumbling something incoherent before the snores resume and you’ve drifted back to sleep.

“Babe,” he says flatly, shaking your leg. “Y/N. Baby. Dude, get up.”

Still nothing, and Heeseung’s on the verge of kissing your forehead and calling it a day, but there is one thing that could get you up.

Slowly, he peels the thick comforter off of your body, relishing in the fact that you chose to sleep in one of his shirts. Allowing himself further onto the mattress, Heeseung’s hand reahes for the hem of your shirt, pushing it up just enough to reveal your lavender colored panties. He pauses, glancing up at you momentarily before lowering his head and nestling it between your thighs.

He starts off slow, placing a light kiss on your inner thigh before trailing his lips upwards. Pausing right at your hip bone, Heeseung’s fingertips move to the core of your underwear, lightly scratching at your cunt through the soft material. Frustrated, he whines your name once more before slowly trailing your panties down and off your legs, discarding of them on the other side of the mattress.

Fingernails digging into your flesh, he grips your thighs as he repositions himself at eye level with your cunt, inching forward slowly until he’s pressing his lips right against yours. It’s gentle at first, much like how he’d kiss you any other time, a few gentle pecks until he was desperate for more.

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, and finally has his tongue fall flat against your entrance. The groan that escapes his mouth from the contact comes from deep in his chest, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indents on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping them.

He licks a long, slow strip along your cunt upwards towards your clit, licking and sucking at the bud as if savoring the feeling of your taste on his tongue. He repeats his movements a few more times, growing desperate as the seconds pass by, each moan and whine from him becoming more desperate and whiny than the last. You shift around slightly, furrowing your brows a bit, but still not fully awake.

Another minute passes by and you’re still asleep. Your body automatically responding to Heeseung’s touches, but they’re still not enough to wake you. He’s not bored in the slightest, though, and would argue that he could probably go on for hours if that’s what it took; but he has to leave soon, and needs you awake as soon as possible.

With a sigh, he kisses your thigh once before twisting his body and reaching over to your nightstand, opening the bottom drawer and digging around slightly until his fingers brush against the rubber vibrator he’d been searching for. It’s an air pulsing one you’d bought before you’d met Heeseung, and when he’d discovered it in your room for the first time, he’d insisted on implementing it into your sex lives as much as possible.

He turns it on, choosing to keep it on the first setting before pressing it directly on your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the contact, with Heeseung keeping his gaze fixed on your face. Gently massaging the toy against your cunt, your eyes slowly began to flutter open, a loud moan echoing through the room as Heeseung turned the toy up to a medium setting.

You grab a fistful of Heeseung’s hair, yanking him forward until his mouth is on your cunt again. The sudden roughness takes him by surprise, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the slightest; in fact, he can feel himself stiffening in his boxers from you gripping his hair alone.

Moaning into your cunt, Heeseung does his best to keep the vibrator pressed against you while he eats you out. His desperation was astonishing, his moans nearly being as loud and whiny as yours as he continued.

When you’re finally close, which doesn’t take very long; Heeseung discards the vibrator completely; mindlessly tossing it on the floor to lap at your cunt with his tongue. He presses it flat against you, dragging your wetness up to your clit before sucking the swollen bud between his lips.

You orgasm almost instantly at that, trapping Heeseung's head between your thighs as you come on his face with your back arching off the bed and swears pouring from your lips.

You’re panting as you come down from your high, breath rigged as you drape your arm against your forehead, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Heeseung asks, voice muffled as you finally release his head was still trapped between your thighs.

“Shit,” you loosen the grip, “sorry, Hee.”

“Don’t apologize. Oh my God, I could’ve died like that and would’ve been okay with it.”

Weirdly enough, you don’t think he’s joking.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you okay?”

You nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, “I’m definitely up.”

“Yeah, me too,” He responds, tapping on his painfully hard erection. “Can I…?”

“If you do all the work, sure.”

Heeseung scoffs, already moving to tug his pajama pants down, “As if I ever let you do any of it.”

It’s not a complaint, Heeseung was more than happy being the more assertive one when it came to your sex life. He didn’t mind doing most of the work as long as it meant you were getting off.

When he turns you to lay on your side you let him, resting your back against his chest as he teases his tip at your entrance. You bite down on your bottom lip, hand gripping the bed sheets when he finally does slide himself in. Heeseung grunts into your ear, placing a gentle hand on your hip, “ ‘m gonna go a little bit fast, okay? We don’t have a lot of time.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, either.

At your confirmation, Heeseung pulled out of you entirely before pushing himself back in; his thrusts overwhelmingly fast but not painful or rough. You yelp when he bites down on your neck, though, a habit he picked up upon finding out you enjoy being marked up.

He was certain that neither of you will last long like this, so it doesn’t surprise him that after a few minutes you’re already creeping up on your orgasm. Heeseung takes this as a sign to speed up his already quick thrusts, his nails digging into your hip as he presses his head onto your shoulder.

You finish first with Heeseung just a few seconds behind you, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of him filling you up with his cum. As always, he keeps his dick buried in you for another minute longer, only pulling out when he’s reminded of how little time he has.

Sitting up, Heeseung moves a few stray strands of hair out of the way to plant kisses on your face, but you stop him with the excuse of not having brushed your teeth yet before he’s able to properly kiss you on the lips.

He scoffs, “You just came on my face, do you think I care if you have morning breath? Don’t insult me.”

“At least let me eat first so I can get this weird taste out of my mouth,” you counter, reaching over your shoulder to pat Heeseung on the cheek. “Can I do that?”

Heeseung lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, “If you insist. Let me clean you up first, though.”

He stands from the bed, awkwardly pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up before excusing himself to your bathroom. He takes care of himself first before running a rag under the sink faucet and returning to your bedroom.

After cleaning you up with practiced ease, Heeseung discards of the rag in your bathroom hamper and slips back into your bedroom, finally delivering you the breakfast in bed he’d been anticipating all week, a wide grin on his face as he sets the wooden tray down on your lap. “All your favorites: french toast sticks, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and a glass of cranberry juice. Bone apple teeth.”

You chuckle at his joke, admiring the feast laying in your lap as you grab a strip of bacon, “Where’s your food?” You ask, noticing there was only enough servings for one person.

Heeseung shakes his head, resting the palm of his hand on your bare knee as he sits across from you, “I’ll pick up something on the way to work, didn’t have time to make enough for both of us.”

With a pout, you take a bite of the bacon strip, “Now I feel bad.”

Heeseung grins, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “Don’t, consider this part one of your Valentine’s gift.”

You’ve finished the first strip by now, moving onto the second one as you use your free hand to retrieve your phone from the nightstand. “Well, at least let me pay for your breakfast then.”

He shakes his head at you, reaching for your phone that you manage to pull out of reach. “Babe, you seriously don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you respond, halfway through Venmo-ing him fifteen dollars, “that should be enough.”

“Y/N…”

“Done! And don’t send it back or else I’ll be really sad, you know gift-giving is my love language.”

He chuckles, using the fork and knife on the tray table to cut a piece of the french toast stick, “Thank you, baby. You spoil me.” He dips the fork into the container of maple syrup before bringing it up to your parted lips, cupping his hand underneath to prevent the syrup from dripping onto the bed sheets.

You hum, cupping Heeseung’s face as you chew, “Anything for my princess. Also, you said this was part one of my gift?”

Heeseung nods, cutting another square off the french toast, “Part two is still later tonight, once I’m off work.”

“Can you tell me what it is now, please?” You plead, clasping your hands together as you jutt out your bottom lip, staring up at him with a pout. For the past week, Heeseung had been teasing about this big Valentine’s day surprise he had planned for you, claiming it would be the “surprise of a lifetime”.

He hums, feeding you another forkful. “I’ll tell you this, when you have the time, you’re gonna have to pack an overnight bag.” Your eyes light up, waiting patiently before speaking as Heeseung continues, “And, you’re gonna have to be dressed up once I pick you up after work. Nothing crazy fancy, just… something nice.”

Heeseung can tell you want to bombard him with more questions, and brings another forkful of food to your lips before you have the chance. “I’ll be picking you up around five-forty-five, ‘m sorry I’ll have to be at the shop most of the day.”

You shake your head, picking up the glass of cranberry juice, “Don’t be, I hope the event goes well. If you have extras, can you bring me a copy of the book?”

“For sure, and I’ll see if I can leave any sooner so we have some extra time together.”

“You seriously don’t have to,” you assure him, taking a sip of your drink, “besides, I have some errands to run in the meantime.”

Heeseung raises a brow at you, “Oh? You’re going out today?”

You nod excitedly, setting the cup on your nightstand, “Yeji and I are taking the baby to a Mommy-and-Me yoga class then doing some shopping.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at the mention of your sister, setting the fork and knife back onto the tray table. You frown at him, shoulders slouching as you tilt your head, “Why do you hate my sister so much?”

“I never said I hated Yeji.”

“You didn’t have to, it’s pretty obvious. You never wanna talk to her when she’s around and you roll your eyes whenever I mention her.”

Heeseung shrugs, “She’s just not my cup of tea, is all. Our personalities clash.”

Of course there’s more to it than clashing personalities, but you’re not quite ready for the full truth just yet, so he decides to leave it at that. “Anyways, how are Jake and Jihan?”

Your eyes light up at the mention of your future brother-in-law and nephew, “I talked to Yeji yesterday and she said things are good! Jihan is starting to roll over and Jake plans on asking his friend, Sunghoon, to be his best man. Oh, and Yeji says the baby is finally starting to look like Jake.”

“Really?”

You nod, “Mmhm, Jake is so happy.”

“Good for him,” Heeseung mumbles, watching as you take a bite of the eggs. “Gonna have to head out now, but I loaded my card onto your Apple Wallet, ‘kay? Use that while you shop.”

You blink at him, “When’d you do that?”

“Last night, consider it part one-and-a-half of your gift.”

“You spoil me.”

Heeseung grins, “Anything for you.”

The drive to Bookhaven is quiet, with Keshi playing from the stereo as Heeseung made his way to the shop and parked by the employee entrance.

Stepping right into a pile of snow, he shuts the car door behind him before making his way across the street and stopping by his favorite breakfast cafe, Heaven’s Treats. He ordered his usual: two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches on croissants and two bottles of water; using your fifteen-dollar Venmo gift to pay and tipping the staff with a few dollars cash.

He heads back over to his shop afterwards, unlocking and entering through the employee entrance. Once inside, he unlocks his office door first, setting the bag of food down on his desk before heading into the main area of the shop. Taking a few minutes to wipe down tables and put away loose books, Heeseung hums to himself as he enjoys how quiet and peaceful the shop is. Shin Ryujin was sure to bring in a crowd later today, and he can already tell he’d be leaving the shop with a headache.

Once finished, Heeseung retreats back to his office and shuts the door behind him, grabbing the bag of food from the desk before walking over to the closet door. With a sigh, he opens it up, pushing the file cabinet to the side to reveal the door to the hidden basement. His eyes jot down to the keypad under the doorknob, where he quickly types in your anniversary before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

Staring down at the wooden staircase, Heeseung sighs once again, “Let’s get this over with.”

Carefully, he retreats down the steps and into the basement, looking over into the glass chamber and finding Jongseong, your ex boyfriend, sound asleep on his mattress. Heeseung chuckles once he’s made it down the stairs, walking over to the pass-through attached to the glass chamber and opening it, sliding in the breakfast sandwich and bottle of water before shutting it with a loud click!

Heeseung retreats over to his desk and computer monitors that sat opposite of the glass chamber, sitting on his office chair before grabbing and turning on the intercom microphone. “Sleeping in?”

His voice comes out ten times louder in the glass chamber’s speaker, jolting Jongseong out of his sleep as he presses the palms of his hands onto his ears. “Jesus fuckin’… is the intercom necessary?! You’re right there! I can hear you through the glass!”

Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, setting the microphone back on the desk, “You’re a heavy sleeper.” Jongseong sighs in response, rubbing his eyes as Heeseung continues, “Brought you breakfast, it’s in the pass-through. Eat before it gets cold.”

“How do I know you didn’t do something to it? Sick fuck.” Jongseong spits, arms folded across his chest as he stares at Heeseung through the glass.

“Do something like what?”

“I don’t know, spike my drink like last time?”

Heeseung lets out an agitated groan as he slumps in his chair, retrieving his own food from the takeout bag as he responds, “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t fucking drug you that night? You actually made everything a lot easier by getting blackout drunk at a fucking nightclub.”

“Yeah, and if I didn’t blackout? Then what?”

“Who cares? It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you’re away from Y/N.”

Jongseong shivers at the mention of your name, immediately looking away from Heeseung and focusing his attention on the food in the pass-through.

Around six months ago, you’d showed up to Bookhaven hand-in-hand with Jongseong, and Heeseung had been enthralled with you ever since. He spent is every waking moment doing his research on you, which included doing a deep dive on the people closest to you: your immediate family, close friends, and stupid fucking boyfriend.

Heeseung knew the moment he laid eyes on Jongseong that he was no good for you, and was clearly putting up a facade when the two of you were together. Heeseung saw right through it, how quickly he’d pull out his phone to snap a text when you were looking, how he’d roll his eyes whenever you got too excited about something, how he almost never responded to your PDA — he was the fucking worst, and you deserved so much better. You deserved Lee Heeseung.

Days leading up to Jongseong’s disappearance, Heeseung had been watching him like a hawk; cyber-stalking him as closely as possible without being caught, until, finally, Jongseong decided to go clubbing one night.

Heeseung’s original plan was to wait until Jongseong was slightly drunk and knock him out, but Jongseong getting blackout drunk on his own accord made things way easier for Heeseung — all he had to do was pretend to be a friend to Jongseong and convince everyone else he’d be getting him home safely.

Dumbasses, all of them.

Jongseong stands, scratching the back of his neck as he walks over to the pass-through.

“Anyways, it’s Valentine’s day,” Heeseung says after biting into his own sandwich, “you have any plans? Oh wait.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes again, mumbling “Fuck you” under his breath as he retrieves his food and drink. He inspects the sandwich thoroughly before taking a bite, chewing slowly as if trying to taste each and every spice and flavor.

“Wait,” Heeseung speaks, suddenly realizing something, “if you just woke up, that means you missed the show.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes a third time, already knowing what Heeseung was getting at. “I’m sure I didn't miss much.”

Heeseung swivels around in his office chair to face the three monitors, each one surveilling different areas in your apartment. You were blissfully unaware of the hidden cameras he’d set up in your home that have been recording your every move for months on end. He’s doing it for your own safety, really; keeping an eye on you at all times.

You’re in the kitchen now, loading up the dishwasher with music playing from your phone, stopping every few seconds to belt out the lyrics or make an attempt at doing the choreography. Heeseung enjoys watching you like this, when you truly get to be yourself because you think no one is around.

He grins, switching over to the center monitor and hitting the rewind button until he sees himself entering your bedroom, “There we go.” Heeseung monitors himself closely, watching as he sets the tray of food down on your desk before walking over to your mattress.

He moves out of the way so Jongseong has a better view of the screen, a smug expression on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. The monitors were on at all hours, meaning the only entertainment Jongseong had was watching you stroll around your house. Weirdly enough, it pleases him to keep an eye on you like this, making sure you’re still okay after all this time.

He can do without watching you and Heeseung have sex, though.

Jongseong turns his head away the moment Heeseung removes the blanket from your body, groaning in disgust as he takes another bite from his sandwich. “I don’t need to see this.”

Heeseung shrugs, mumbling, “Your loss” as he speeds up the replay. He prefers to focus on the key moments anyway, like the face you make right before you come on his, or how your entire body tensed when he leaned down to bite on the nape of your neck.

As arousing as it was to play back all those moments, he primarily used it as a personal study guide on what you liked the most, so he’d be better at pleasing you going forward. This behavior had started before the two of you even got together, if he’s being completely honest. One simple, playful retweet from you about preferring to receive oral rather than give it had him ordering a pocket pussy the very next day to practice on.

The first time the two of you hooked up, Heeseung had spent approximately twenty-four minutes going down on you, only stopping when you expressed concerns about his jaw locking up — not that he cared.

“Wait a second,” Jongseong pauses, crumbling the empty food wrapper into a ball before tossing it to the floor, “what happened to that big breakfast feast you kept talking about, huh? With the, uh, the pancakes and cinnamon rolls?”

When Heeseung doesn’t respond, Jongseong continues taunting, “What, realized you couldn’t do it? That you can do something as simple as prepare a meal? Wow, are you—”

“Shut up, dumbass.” Heeseung interrupts him with a shake of his head, swiveling around in his office chair until he’s facing Jongseong, “You think you’re better than me because you know how to cook? Go on then, cook something. Go to the stove and prove you’re better at me than cooking.”

Silence falls between the two, with Jongseong glaring daggers at Heeseung as he tightens his fists.

“Oh, wait,” Heeseung continues, tapping his chin, “you can’t cook; you’re trapped in my basement while I fuck your girlfriend.“

“Whatever.”

“Oh, now it’s whatever, but just a second ago you were so much better than me for knowing how to cook — you also know how to lie and cheat.”

“Whatever, Heeseung, just drop it.”

“How do you think Y/N would feel if she found out you were cheating on her with her own sister? How old do you think Jihan will be before Jake realizes why they look nothing alike?” Heeseung questions, tilting his chin at Jongseong, as if expecting a legitimate answer.

The mere thought of Jongseong and your own sister getting together behind your back is enough to make Heeseung gag; he couldn’t fucking believe two of the closest people in your life would deceive you like that. It was beyond disgusting, and he had a strong distaste for Yeji the moment he found out.

Ashamed, Jongseong turn away from Heeseung’s gaze. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, turning around in his seat until he’s facing the monitors, “Anything involving Y/N is my business, fuck-face, including you and anyone else that bothers her.”

He navigates the surveillance controls until he’s back to watching you in real time, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile when he sees you facetiming someone. He shushes Jongseong, who hadn’t even been speaking, as he turns the volume up in order to hear you better.

“…and I think he looks just like you, seriously…Jake?…I mean, I don’t know…I’m not really seeing the resemblance yet…”

Realizing who you were talking to and what the topic of conversation was, Heeseung clicks his tongue, “They may even find out sooner than you think.”

The sound of Yeji’s voice through the speaker has him rolling his eyes as he turns down the volume, not that it mattered, considering you disappeared into the bathroom a few moments later.

“Hey,” Jongseong taps on the glass, “let me ask you something.”

“No.”

“Why do you have a camera in every room except the bathroom?”

It’s a genuine question, but it comes out more perverted than Jongseong had intended it to.

As if the answer was obvious, Heeseung raises a brow as he responds, “I’m giving her privacy, pervert.”

[viaviavie]

OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [HEARTSLABYUL]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, makeout (cater)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this!

HEARTSLABYUL | SAVANACLAW | OCTANIVELLE | SCARABIA | POMEFIORE | IGNIHYDE | DIASOMNIA

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"Grim, please explain to me why I received an invitation to the Prefect's wedding... I am calm, Trey. I would just prefer to know the details before I go and fetch her myself... and may I ask one more thing? Yes, hoW IN THE WORLD DID THE PREFECT GET KIDNAPPED LIKE THIS?! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CALM ME DOWN, CATER. I AM PERFECTLY CALM."

Riddle calmly asked about your whereabouts, and it does not take him long to immediately get to work. As one of the better respected housewardens among the roster, it was easier to ask for a few favors that could get him to that damned cathedral fast. However, as the traffic did pile up to get to this accursed wedding, Riddle finds himself on horseback.

He does have this awful crush on you, but it never really crosses his mind. Even as he holds certain feelings for you, it's at the back of his mind. Riddle values your autonomy, and this marriage was a massive red flag. Surely, you cannot have possibly agreed to such a thing. It was just not in your nature. You would have protested, and the fact that you are not back in campus means that something is preventing you from speaking your mind. Riddle really respects you in this aspect!

Still, the idea of you marrying some prince who barely knew it was absolutely absurd. Riddle won't allow it, he absolutely won't!

The doors were flung open with a loud thud, revealing a red-head in a suit. Much to your surprise, Riddle isn't burning red with a fiery rage and threatening to have everyone's head off. He's stomping towards you and your supposed groom, fist clenched as he throws out an arm out of anger. He doesn't seem too angry, but determined.

"ENOUGH! SHE WILL BE COMING BACK TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE WITH ME NOW."

Okay, maybe you were wrong about him not being angry.

His voice echoes throughout the entire cathedral, followed by several flinches at his sheer volume. Immediately, the crowd by the rows inch back a bit further as he continues to march forward, ignoring the guards that seemed to hesitate to approach him. Pierce raises a brow, almost annoyed rather than fearful of this disturbance.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. You see, the Prefect is going to be married to me. You can sort out your affairs after the ceremony is over." Well, that didn't seem to help one bit, judging by how Riddle seemed to fume even further at this statement.

The housewarden comes to a halt, sucking in a sharp breath to calm his temper. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to frighten you.

He breathes out your name, sending a stutter through your heart.

"Do you truly want to marry this man?"

It almost makes you swoon, the way Riddle looks at you so earnestly as he asks for some affirmation. Had it been any other scenario, you would've taken your time to bore your eyes into his and study his expression. Instead, you shake your head wildly, racing down the aisle until you have hidden yourself behind him.

Riddle has the nerve to smirk at the shocked Prince. "And here, I thought princes had a code of conduct when it came to their ladies." He turned back to you with an assuring look. "I'll take you home, Prefect."

Truly, Riddle had no intentions of playing around. He had only one objective, to get you out of here. Just as he turns around to escort you out of the cathedral, a pair of guards had blocked the exit.

"No, I cannot let you leave!" Pierce cried out, ready to give chase. "Prefect, please! Give me a chance. You cannot possibly be ready to leave me for... this guy!"

Riddle's eye twitches as he cranes himself to look at the prince. "You have some nerve!" He clicks out, clenching his fists once more. Everyone feels the cathedral heat up, those closer to the aisles feeling beads of sweat form upon their temples. Even as you looked at Riddle so gently, a part of you was somewhat grateful that he was sticking up for you.

Just as his top was about to blow, you muster the will to tug on Riddle's sleeve. As quickly as his reddened face came, it disappears when he glances back at your soft expression. Huffing out a heavy sigh, Riddle clicks his tongue and marches towards the exit.

"Let's be on our way, Prefect. We shouldn't waste our precious time on these trifles."

Needless to say, no one really wanted to test the housewarden's patience as he escorted you out of that Cathedral. Riddle certainly doesn't waste time hoisting you onto his horse and galloping away, not giving the prince a second to try and retrieve you.

He grumbles about the entire ordeal, mostly questioning the absolute ridicule of the marriage. What kind of prince thinks he can get away with it? Riddle is certain to send a complain to Royal Sword Academy regarding their lessons on conduct if no one tries to stop him.

You could easily see Night Raven College from afar as you peeked from behind his tuft of red hair. Riddle is still rambling, a preferable alternative to losing his temper entirely. "That ruffian dares to marry you and has yet to learn your name! How uncouth!" He spat in absolute distaste, and he finds comfort in the way you giggle in agreement.

Riddle doesn't seem to take note of the way your arms are crossed around his middle, or maybe he does, and just chooses not to let his blush show. He cleared his throat, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. "You will find better suitors, Prefect. Just promise me that he wouldn't be so impulsive as that Prince."

TREY CLOVER

"Can you drive any faster, Deuce? No, I don't think we're late. Better safe than sorry! ... Suit, check. Speech, check. Myself, check. I've got everything in order, but... hah, I'd expect to do this type of thing a few years down the line, let alone object at a wedding at all. At least, it's the Prefect's wedding... That's such a weird thing to conceptualize at this point in time."

He really didn't have to be so dramatic about the entire thing, but Trey is really going all-out for this objection. Really, all he's done is seen movies where someone objects at a wedding and while he knows its entirely fictional, our boy here has to drive the point home; no one is marrying the Prefect today.

So that explains why he even bothered to dress up and rehearse a speech throughout the entire ride to the cathedral. He has Heartslabyul helping him out to secure an escape for you in case things went awry. Sure, Trey's Unique Magic won't come in handy but he's good with his words, and is relatively charismatic. He's earned that title of Vice Housewarden, after all.

All that preparation flies out the window when he sees you down the aisle, however.

"Trey?"

He's blinking profusely, almost flustered himself by how radiant you looked in that wedding dress. For a moment, Trey swears that he's had some sort of tunnel vision when all he seems to see is you. It strikes some envy in him when he reminds himself that this wasn't his wedding, and this wouldn't be yours either.

"Prefect..." Trey breathed out, struggling to recall the damn script he was supposed to follow. They are lost, just as he found himself lost in your sparkling gaze.

Screw the script, he was just going to have to wing this one.

He narrows his eyes onto the shocked prince, taking steps down that long carpet. "I've come to bring you back to Night Raven College."

Pierce raises a brow, glancing back at you and the intruder with suspicion. "On what grounds?" He questions snidely, uncertain of what to make of this new character. "If it is for anything trivial, then you may bother the Prefect later. You are obstructing a ceremony here, sir."

You recognize that dangerous glint behind Trey's eyes, and it only serves to make your heart race. Trey simply smirks, hiding away his hesitant exterior with a haughty farce. "I am afraid it cannot wait. I cannot allow the Prefect to be married without saying my piece."

He doesn't exactly know where all his bravado was coming from, but if he had to confess his feelings to you now, then so be it.

Trey looks at you, flashing a gentle yet sheepish smile. "Prefect, I fell for you. Hook, line, and sinker." You let out a dramatic gasp along with the onlookers, allowing a hand to fly to your parted lips. "I have harbored those feelings for a long time now, and I cannot bring myself to see you married without letting my heart be known."

Swallowing to himself, Trey's expression falters slightly, falling into one of softness. "Prefect, it is your happiness that I desire. No matter what happens, I will support your choice."

He didn't exactly have to tell you twice, not when you hurry yourself over to his side and latch onto his arm. You didn't have to feed his ego like that, but it isn't as if Trey had any room to complain.

Pierce is angered by the sight, glaring daggers at Trey with such envy and animosity. "Prefect, are you really leaving me on the altar?" As if to subtly annoy the prince even further, Trey hooks an arm around your waist and pivots you to turn. "It seems to be so, Prince Pierce. I fear that your beautiful bride will be stolen on this lovely afternoon."

You do not miss the way Trey smirks at your flustered expression. Just as he continues to walk you to the exit, you gritted your teeth at him. "Don't say such things!" You tell him as the heat rises to your cheeks. You hear him hum at your ear, followed by the slight press of his fingers on your hip.

"Why shouldn't I? You look beautiful in this dress," Trey murmurs in your ear, pushing the cathedral door open with his hand. "And I suppose that the prince hasn't coaxed this expression out of you. I almost feel sorry for him, that he never got the chance to see how lovely you are when you are putty in my hands."

Trey doesn't stop teasing you, even once you are back in Night Raven College. He wouldn't stop complimenting you either, aiming to have you as red as possible. He just can't help it. It's probably the high he got from confessing his feelings to you, or maybe it's the part where you're unsure if he was being sincere or not. Regardless, it was fun seeing you get all flustered because of him.

You are seated by the Heartslabyul's kitchen counter, snacking on some quick treats that Trey had prepared for you. He claims that it was a consolation for the fact you never got to taste your own wedding cake. Still clad in your grand wedding dress, you couldn't exactly care any less about the crumbs soiling the skirts. "You're no prince charming, Trey." You mentioned mid-bite, eyes glancing at the vice-housewarden who was seated across from you.

"What makes you say that?" He asks you with a slight smile, resting his chin on his palm as he shamelessly bored his gaze into yours.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his seemingly sweet disposition. "Prince Charmings don't tease the girls that they like until they're as red as Riddle." You huffed, digging your fork into the pastry. "You cruel man! You haven't stopped ever since you stole me from the prince!"

Trey chuckles, and you cannot keep yourself from gulping as he leaves his seat, sauntering towards you like a lion would his prey. "Oh? I suppose that I am no Prince Charming. I'm not a pure white knight either. If you think I am being cruel, I won't stop you, sweetheart."

Your heart stutters as he slides a finger underneath your chin, tilting your head so that your forced to look his way. Trey smiles at you, eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. "I highly doubt Prince Charmings steal kisses from their crushes either. For you, I will be kind. May I, sweetheart? I do not need your shoe size to know my feelings for you, at least."

CATER DIAMOND

"Gah, it just refreshed! They've just gotten past the walking part! Deuce, shortcut on your left! Sorry, I'm switching tabs between maps and the livestream! Prefect looks is such a cutie in that dress, it makes me so envious of the prince! Oh well, she really looks like she doesn't wanna be there anyways. I'm coming Prefect! I'll save you!"

There's just this image of Cater clinging onto Deuce on a blastcycle, raising his phone up for a signal as they attempt to maneuver their way through the streets. Everything just happened in such a rush, and Cater's scrambling to get to you. He isn't like Trey who bothers to prepare, but if anything, Cater will ramp up the dramatics to the maximum.

His real goal is just to get you out by any means necessary, and more preferably, without violence. So Cater will do what he does best; make a grand spectacle of the entire thing until the prince is forced to abdicate. Worst case scenario, he's going to drag you out the door and shove you onto the damn blastcycle.

If he has to play the part of your real paramour, then he hopes you'll forgive him. He's got the suit and the desperate look on his face ready to go!

Your jaw goes slack at the way Cater makes a dramatic run for the aisle, somewhat unused to that stricken expression on his face. You're almost concerned for him with the way he grips his knees, attempting to keep his balance as his eyes zone in onto yours.

"Prefect, you can't marry him!" It's too out of character of Cater, and you know better than to think he'd ever be this undone in public. "Is this what you really want?!" Before you could even reply, Pierce cuts in with a slight glare.

"And who are you to talk to my bride like that?" It is then when you catch wind of that mischievous glint in Cater's eye as he throws out his arm dramatically.

"I am the Prefect's sweetheart! Who are you to take my girlfriend like that?"

You have never heard the cathedral go so silent. You are utterly speechless, lips parted with absolute surprise. Clearly, judging by the way sweat had begun to form on the side of Cater's temple, you cannot help but think that this was all improv on his half.

Pierce turns to look at you, almost stricken by the ginger's declaration. "Prefect, is that true?" His voice trembles with fear. "Is that truly your... sweetheart?"

A part of you feels a bit sorry for what you were about to do, but you had to remind yourself that you had been dragged into a wedding on the same day you met this prince.

You are running now, sprinting to Cater's side as you clutch his hand in your own. Turning back to the scandalized prince, you nod firmly, playing along with the farce. "We've been dating for a long time now! And I'm in love with him!" You declare, sending gasps throughout the entire cathedral.

You glance up at Cater, mustering a smile across your features. "You came to save me!" He's almost surprised by the way you cling onto him even harder, but it only serves to sell the act even further. Cater smiles in return, holding you closely. "I'd never let you go, cutie. I love you too much to let you leap into the arms of another man."

Maybe the act is too good, too calculated. That is exactly what goes through your head as Pierce raises a brow in suspicion, narrowing his eyes onto the pair as if attempting to spot a mistake. "Is that so?" He murmurs until he crosses his arms, disbelief on his skeptical expression.

"Prove it."

Cater and you freeze up simultaneously, heads turning to glance at one another. He looked so caught off guard by Pierce's demand, and there's so many eyes on you both.

"You're both longtime sweethearts, right? I wouldn't want to split apart such a happy couple..."

Cater is staring at you, attempting to read your expression. It's difficult, especially when you look at him as your gaze gets even more glossy. He wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want to, and he's already readying himself to sprint out the door with you in tow.

"Prefect, you don't have to—mmph!"

You wasted no time in snaking your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him with such boldness. He could feel you pour all your wants and longings into the kiss, the plush of your soft lips melding into his own. How could he not deny you his own affections, not as he cups your cheeks with his slender fingers and presses back against you.

He dares to go even further, pulling back for a slight gasp of air before diving back into you. Much to his delight, you aren't pulling away either, choosing to even entangle your fingers into his hair for leverage.

Then you hear a groan from the prince, followed by his pleas for you two to stop this display. It seems that he got the point now, at least.

Even as both of you exit the cathedral, Cater still maintains the image that he was your boyfriend. You don't exactly protest, and even then, it didn't seem to different to the way Cater had been treating you as a friend. He is still as clingy as ever, closing the physical proximities by having you hang onto his arm.

And you best believe he's snapping as much photos of you to commemorate the event. He's already updating his MagiCam account on his success, not to mention the pretty girl on his arm.

"Cater, what are you doing?" You asked, unable to hide the grin on your face as Cater sets up his camera against the tire of the blastcycle. You could see yourselves on the reflection of the device, followed by the grand beauty of the cathedral behind you both. He grins at you as he shifts at your side.

"What? It isn't everyday a cutie like you gets to look like a bride. We got the perfect backdrop!" He sings, sliding an arm around your waist as he strikes for a pose. You follow his lead, matching his energy with each shot.

"Careful! People are going to think we're dating for real!"

Cater smirks at you, leaning in closely to your ear with a sickeningly sweet tease. "Wanna make it official then, cutie? Can't have any random princes asking for your hand, not when you're dating me." He is not stranger to the way you blush, letting out a chuckle at the sight.

"Aw, cutie! Are you still thinking about the kiss? I didn't think you would be so bold about it." Pressing a quick peck on the cheek, he rests his chin on your head as he prepares for another pose. "Don't worry. CayCay's gonna initiate it next time!"

DEUCE SPADE

"Grim, which way?! I can't see the GPS! ... Don't I just have to go in there and yell 'I object'? It looks easy! I'll say it then drag Prefect out of there... Ha?! I need to prove that I have a good reason to get her out? Fine! I don't care, the Prefect needs me!"

Possibly the closest we will get to a legit Prince Charming. Perhaps Deuce is a bit on the rugged side, but he's possibly one of the most earnest and noble students from Night Raven College. He cares about you more than he cares about getting his feelings across, but that is not to say he won't be honest about it either in this confrontation.

He's not exactly sure on how to break up the ceremony. Grim and Ace are coaching him through what to say, and admittedly, the process seems too complicated. All he knows is that he has to run through those doors and convince the prince to not marry the Prefect by any means necessary.

"Deuce!"

He is the one to always come running at the sound of your name. Deuce had been someone you trusted during your stay here in Twisted Wonderland, and you never seemed to stop and think about just how attached that boy was to you. Sure, you held him closely as a friend and held affections for him, but the way he sprinted towards you was a testament to how much he cared.

"Prefect!" You are racing to meet him halfway, launching yourself into his chest. He catches you barreling into his suit, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner. Then he takes you by the soldiers, looking down at you with such concern and worry. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" He fusses, earning a shy smile from you.

"I'm okay, Deuce. I'm okay."

"And what is the meaning of this?"

Catching sight of the infuriated prince, Deuce beckons you to stand behind him. Cerulean eyes narrow onto the groom with animosity, accompanied by the way his hands are itching towards his wand. "I can't let you marry her. The Prefect will be returning to Night Raven College with me." You can sense the nervousness in his tone, but Deuce remains firm in his words.

Pierce's eye twitches, and he scoffed in disbelief at Deuce's protective display. "I am afraid that cannot be possible. I am marrying the Prefect, and that is final." Clicking his tongue, Pierce rolls his eyes and holds out his hand for you to take. "Come, darling. I am not surprised that you have garnered the affections of an admirer, but I fancy you more than this one ever could."

Something in Deuce snaps as he lets out a cry.

"But I love her!"

You stiffen against his back, taken by surprise by Deuce's sudden confession. And the boy glares, and it almost so painful for Pierce to keep his stare, not when there was so much conviction and certainty behind Deuce's voice.

"I've loved her longer than you have, and known her much longer than that!" His voice cracks underneath the emotional turmoil bubbling within him. "Did you even stop to consider what she wants? Did you wonder if this wedding would make her happy in the first place?!"

You take note of how Deuce's fists are clenched pale, how his breaths had suddenly grown haggard. With a soft expression, you curl yourself onto his back, arms hugging him from behind in an attempt to placate him. His body stiffens against your hold, but he reaches to clasp your hands onto his own.

He is just thankful that you aren't seeing the way his eyes had begun to water at the thought of losing you entirely. "So please," He chokes out, expression twisted with a sort of agony.

"Please don't force her to marry you. She deserves so much more than that."

Thanks to the waterworks that Deuce had caused, the wedding was called off. There was just no way that the prince could marry you after Deuce poured his heart out to deter him from wedding you.

It's almost sweet, the way that Deuce lifts you onto the blastcycle and fixes the helmet onto your head. He encourages you to hold onto him tightly as he speeds away from the cathedral, all the more determined to settle you back into NRC.

By the time he's dropped you off at the Ramshackle Dorm, only then does he take the time to bask in how radiant you appeared in a wedding dress. Thinking about his crush in a wedding dress had never crossed Deuce's mind before, but this definitely gave him something to ponder about for the next couple of nights.

You are handing him the helmet, a shy smile surfacing across your features. "Thank you for saving me from that awful wedding." Deuce clears his throat, shifting his gaze as he takes the helmet from your grasp. "I didn't want you to do something you weren't willing to. It just isn't right."

He doesn't realize just how dry his throat as gotten when he cannot bring himself to keep his thoughts to himself. "I love you. I really do, and I wish I said it at a better time." He swallows to himself, letting the embarrassment burn into the back of his head as he recalls his declaration. It was only natural that 'like' would turn into 'love' after being your close confidant for this long, pining quietly during the months spent with you.

You cannot exactly blame him either, not when his feelings were entirely reciprocated. You shift on the balls of your heel, biting onto your lower lip.

And in a swift motion, you lean in to press a chaste kiss against Deuce's warm cheek. You pull away to bask upon the stunned expression on his face, only to give him a shy smile of your own.

"Would you be down to try confessing again tomorrow?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

"BAHAHAHAHA! THERE'S NO WAY THE PREFECT IS GETTING MARRIED. WHO WOULD EVER WANNA MARRY THE PREFECT? PFFFFT, GRIM, YOU'RE SERIOUSLY PULLING MY LEG HERE. YOU EVEN BROUGHT ME A FAKE INVITATION! AIN'T NO WAY THAT SHE— Oh... Wait, really? The wedding is happening right now? ... Oh."

Ace thought you were just messing him again for that one time he said that no one would ever be interested in you. He simply said that to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship with anyone else, but he didn't mean for you to prove him wrong like that! He never believes Grim until Deuce, Riddle, and the rest of Heartslabyul receive invitations to a wedding that was meant to start in 3 hours.

This is the absolute worst time to be in denial about his feelings. The Prefect wearing a wedding gown is one thing, but another is the fact that the groom is some pompous prince from Royal Sword Academy. Does that guy seriously think he was your type? No way! Ace knows you better than anyone on this campus, so this guy can buzz off!

A part of him did think that you were serious about marrying this stranger. In all fairness, Crowley's allowance pales in comparison to whatever Mr. Money-Bags had over there. He wouldn't blame you if you were marrying the guy for money.

Still, the last thing he wants is for you to be whisked away to who knows where. Ace would never see you again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, he did get very attached to you. Yes, a part of him wants to keep you to himself, but he also values your autonomy here. And if he knew you that well, he knows that you wouldn't want to be married off like this.

"Prefect, I'm here to pick you up."

You are actually surprised by how princely Ace looked in that moment. Dressed in a suit befitting a groom, you could help but feel your breath stolen away once his scarlet eyes were pinned onto yours. You could have been fooled then, and perhaps, Ace did turn into a prince as he marched down the aisle with his arm outstretched for you to take.

Ace never realizes the way a victorious smile creeps onto his face when you break out into a grin, taking the skirt of your dress as you make run for it. The crowd gasps as you crashed into Ace's chest, and he does not hesitate to take a protective stance in front of you. With a haughty laugh, he smirks at the baffled prince. "Who are you?!"

The redhead's arm wraps around your waist, pressing your body closer to his own. "Sorry about that, but I'll be taking your bride indefinitely! Trust me, you'll be severely disappointed after spending one good day with her!" He snickered, much to your horrified expression. You lightly smack at his chest, glaring at him with that pout that he adores so much.

"Hey!" You whine, and Ace simply beams at the prince who hesitantly steps forward. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes at the crowd that are offended at his immature display. "I'm doing you a great favor here! If you kissed those lips, she'll turn into an ugly green ogre by sunset!"

"HEY!"

Pierce's eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, as if pleading for you to return to his arms. "You'd best return her, boy. We can settle this maturely." Ace does not like the way that these bodyguards are eyeing him, shifting closer and closer as he backed you both towards the venue entrance. He never falters, and neither does that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Sorry, buddy. The clock's struck midnight and all your magic tricks are fading!" He barks. Now, he knows that an escape must be made. The last thing he wants is to have another Eliza-episode. He looks down at you with a wide grin, clasping you arm with a firm squeeze.

Ace sneaks into his pocket, still looking at you. "You know something, Charmant? Maybe not all the magic has gone yet." His hand reveals the Ace of Cards, and it is immediately thrown up into the air.

As the card reached its peak in height, a burst of smoke filled the air, obscuring the magician and yourself from view.

You don't exactly need a signal to start running when your feet began moving on their own, dashing towards the door followed by the Ace's laugh and the prince's demand for guards.

Ace has no white horse, but he has Deuce with his blastcycle! Who knows how the three of you managed to fit on that bike, but you made it work! The guards couldn't exactly catch up in their cars, not when Deuce was dodging vehicles left and right to make this escape. Ace did take one final look back, sticking his tongue out at the defeated prince before you all disappeared around the corner.

Ace gives you his shoes, despite how oversized they may be. You complained about those glass shoes on you, and to 'shut you up', he's given you his runners.

When you make it back to Night Raven College and all the adrenaline has died down, Ace stays by your side the entire time when you explain the entire situation to Crewel and Crowley. He acts so nonchalant about things, even as you both walk all over the campus like groom and bride.

It's a rather odd sight; you in your wedding gown, and Ace right next to you as you both sit on the bench by the Great Seven's statues. Students wandering about at night had given both of you puzzled stares, but no one is ever surprised when they realize it's you and Ace, however.

"Wow, Prefect. Not even a thank you?" He glances at your slightly annoyed expression, throwing his hands up defensively in response. "I was kidding about the ogre stuff! Really!"

You could only roll your eyes at his words, huffing as you crossed your arms across your chest. When you refuse to speak, Ace sticks out his lower lip into a pout as he leans his head onto your shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Are you actually that upset about it?"

There is no response from you, not even a glance as your nose is turned away from him. Then Ace sighs, practically clambering over your lap just so that you are forced to look at him. "Prefeeeect, I said I was sorry! What? Do I have to kiss you to make me apology authentic?"

Only then do you look back at him with a raised brow, almost expectant. Ace blinks with surprise, a slight blush creeping to his ears. "For real? You're serious?" He exclaimed, much to your agitation. You sigh even louder as you shove him off your lap, hastily getting up to your feet to leave him behind.

"Wait! Prefect, I said wait!" You feel a hand on your wrist, twirling you back to face the redhead. Ace bites onto his lower lip, unable to keep the red from flooding his cheeks. "I really just said all that mean stuff to get the prince off your back, you know? I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

And when he sees that smirk creeping up onto your features, he groans as he leans in closely into your space.

"Now look at what you've done! You had me all panicked over what?" You feel his breath tickling your lips, followed by the way his hands crawl up your neck to cradle your jaw.

"If you just wanted a kiss, you could've asked..."

[jiminomenon]

valentines special!

pairing: punk! karina x mean girl! reader

word count: 1.3k+

summary: valentine’s day was just another overrated holiday—until jimin turned it into a full-blown spectacle. from an obnoxious banner over y/n’s locker to stuffing her arms with roses, jimin made sure everyone knew exactly who y/n belonged to. despite y/n’s endless complaints, jimin only doubled down, dragging her away for a surprise rooftop date with takeout and chocolates. annoyed but secretly soft, y/n let her win—just this once. not that she’d ever say it out loud.

from my series: match made in hell

valentine’s day was overrated. the flowers, the chocolates, the desperate attempts to prove love in one day—it was all so unbearably cliché. y/n had always looked down on it, rolling their eyes at the couples who paraded through the halls like they were starring in a low-budget rom-com.

she didn’t do romance. she did power. control. having people wrapped around her finger just to let them go the second they got too close.

and yet, somehow, jimin had wormed her way past all of y/n’s walls.

where y/n broke hearts, jimin broke rules. where y/n ruled the school, jimin ruled the streets. where y/n thrived off making people crave their attention, jimin was the only one who didn’t play along—because she already had it.

which was why y/n should’ve known better than to expect jimin to ignore valentine’s day.

they barely made it through the entrance of the school before being ambushed.

balloons—black and pink, because jimin had to keep some edge to the whole ordeal—lined their locker. but the real kicker was the massive, messy banner hanging above it, spray-painted in red like some crime scene message.

“mine. forever. get over it.”

y/n’s eyes twitched.

the hall was packed, and people were staring. whispering. y/n could already hear their names being thrown around in hushed voices, laced with awe and jealousy.

then there was jimin, leaning against the lockers with her usual smug grin, ripped jeans and leather jacket giving her that effortless bad-girl look she knew drove people crazy.

“what the hell is this?” y/n asked, voice flat.

jimin popped a lollipop into her mouth, tilting her head. “a declaration of love, obviously.”

y/n exhaled through her nose, already feeling a headache coming on. “this is humiliating.”

“and yet, you’re still standing here looking hot as hell,” jimin mused. “so, i think i did something right.”

before y/n could snap at her, jimin whistled. suddenly, a group of her delinquent friends appeared, each carrying a bouquet of deep red roses—real ones, expensive ones, the kind y/n would never admit to liking.

one by one, they handed them to y/n until their arms were completely full.

“jimin.” y/n’s voice dropped an octave, laced with warning.

“what?” she leaned in close, lowering her voice. “you think i’m gonna let some loser try to shoot their shot with you today? had to make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

y/n pursed her lips, ignoring the way her heart pounded at her words.

“you’re insane,” she muttered.

“and you love it.” jimin grinned, leaning in to press a lingering kiss against y/n’s cheek, right in front of everyone.

whispers erupted around them. someone gasped.

y/n scoffed, shoving the flowers into jimin’s hands. “you’re carrying these.”

jimin only smirked, tucking one behind y/n’s ear. “anything for you, princess.”

the chaos didn’t stop there.

the rest of the day was filled with jimin’s shameless displays of affection.

she skipped her classes to walk y/n to hers, stealing bites of her lunch and draping herself over her shoulders like a clingy cat. she slid love notes into their pockets (most of them inappropriate), charmed the teachers into excusing her lateness, and made a show of glaring at anyone who even looked at y/n for too long.

by last period, y/n was exhausted.

they barely had time to breathe before jimin was dragging them out of school, her grip firm yet gentle as she led them to her motorcycle parked just outside.

“we’re ditching,” she announced.

y/n raised a brow. “and where, exactly, are you taking me?”

jimin tossed her a helmet. “it’s a surprise.”

y/n narrowed her eyes. “if this is some grand romantic gesture, i’m—”

jimin rolled her eyes. “just get on.”

reluctantly, y/n did, wrapping her arms around jimin’s waist as she sped off.

they ended up at an abandoned rooftop, overlooking the city just as the sun started to set.

a picnic blanket was laid out, complete with takeout from y/n’s favorite restaurant and a box of chocolate-covered strawberries.

y/n stared.

“say something,” jimin said, rubbing the back of her neck. “this is the most effort i’ve ever put into anything.”

y/n slowly turned to her. “you… actually planned this?”

“yeah, yeah, don’t make it weird,” jimin muttered, flopping down onto the blanket.

y/n sat beside her, watching as the sky turned shades of pink and orange.

“you’re ridiculous,” she said softly.

jimin smirked. “and yet, you’re still here.”

y/n rolled her eyes, but when jimin reached for their hand, they didn’t pull away.

jimin’s fingers traced lazy patterns on y/n’s palm, her usual cocky smirk softening just a little under the glow of the setting sun. it was almost unsettling—almost.

y/n clicked their tongue. “you’re really trying to be all romantic right now, huh?”

jimin scoffed, biting into a chocolate-covered strawberry. “romantic? please. i just like watching you get all flustered.”

y/n snatched the box from her hands, popping one into their mouth. “you’re so full of yourself.”

“and yet, here you are,” jimin teased, leaning in so close their noses nearly touched. “sitting on a rooftop with me, eating strawberries, holding my hand like some lovesick idiot.”

y/n refused to let her win. she tilted her head, gaze dropping to jimin’s lips.

“you’re the one who planned this whole thing just to impress me,” she murmured. “so, really, who’s the lovesick idiot here?”

jimin’s smirk faltered for half a second.

then, with a huff, she leaned back, flopping dramatically onto the blanket. “fine, you got me. i’m obsessed with you. madly in love. completely whipped. whatever.”

y/n hummed, pretending to think. “i like the sound of that.”

jimin groaned. “you’re unbearable.”

y/n grinned, lying down beside her. “and yet, you’re still here.”

silence settled between them, comfortable and warm. below, the city buzzed with life, but up here, it was just them. no distractions. no expectations.

just them.

jimin shifted onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. “you never told me if you liked it.”

y/n blinked. “liked what?”

“all this.” jimin gestured vaguely at the setup. “the banner, the flowers, the whole valentine’s day thing.”

y/n let out a breath, staring up at the sky.

she had never been the type to care for grand gestures, never cared for romance beyond what she could use to her advantage. but jimin wasn’t just some disposable admirer.

she was jimin.

y/n turned her head, meeting her gaze. “it was stupid.”

jimin’s expression barely changed, but y/n caught the flicker of something in her eyes before they continued.

“but… it was also kind of nice.”

jimin’s lips twitched.

“kind of?” she echoed.

y/n smirked. “don’t get ahead of yourself.”

jimin huffed out a laugh before reaching for y/n’s face, brushing their hair back.

“happy valentine’s day, princess,” she murmured.

y/n rolled her eyes, but when jimin leaned in, she didn’t pull away.

jimin’s breath was warm against y/n’s lips, the space between them shrinking with every passing second. y/n could feel her heartbeat hammering in her chest, but she refused to let jimin see how much she affected her.

“if you’re expecting me to say it back, don’t hold your breath,” y/n murmured, tilting her chin up slightly.

jimin chuckled, eyes flickering down to their lips. “who said i needed you to say anything?”

and then, finally, she kissed her.

it wasn’t soft, it wasn’t sweet—it was everything jimin was. reckless, consuming, and just a little cocky. she kissed y/n like she had something to prove, like she wanted to remind she exactly who she belonged to.

y/n, for all their pride and stubbornness, melted into it anyway.

jimin grinned against her lips, tugging her closer. “took you long enough to give in.”

y/n pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, smirking as she tangled her fingers in the collar of jimin’s jacket.

“shut up and kiss me again.”

jimin didn’t need to be told twice.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

P*RNSTAR- J. TODD, D. GRAYSON, P. PARKER

pairing: boyfriend! p*rnstar!jason todd x p*rnstar!dick grayson x p*rnstar!peter parker x girly!fem! reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: after months of dating jason, you finally muster the courage to ask if you can be in one of his videos... with some company. aka his two best friends dick and peter-to get all the right angles, of course.

warnings: SMUT! threesum!, daddy kink, size / manhandling kink, swearing, pet names, innocence kink, porn mentioned ofc, heavy praise, overstimulation, light spanking, giving and recieving head, fingering, cumming inside, masterbation, jason is super possesive- the boys tease the hell outta him... (this is super dirty heh)

quick authors note- thank you to the lovely person who left a threesum request in my inbox, i had this idea for a while to do something with this song in mind- so happy i could write this :) happy reading and happy valentines day<3

"i wanna hear you talking dirty/ i wanna see it on your face/ i wanna feel you put the work in/ i wanna watch you entertain / flashing red light (baby, baby, baby)/ baby, you're a star/ fuck me all night/ (show me, show me, show me)/ show me who you are/ pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (pornstar)"- p*rnstar, nessa barrett

Some things you knew, but you didn't.

Like when it came to your boyfriend's income.

He had more money than you could ever dream of. And yet- it was still a blurry line of where exactly he got it all.

Jason had pulled you aside before things got serious between you two- indicating what he did for a living. It wasn't a dinner table conversation at the busiest restaurant in Gotham, but he wasn't ashamed of himself.

He was worried about what you would think.

If you’d splash your glass of wine in his face, and be done with it.

But you were calm and understanding when he told you about his OnlyFans. About how dozens of his Twitter videos had gotten millions of views, with him as the main attraction.

He didnt work in the professional industry, he had assured you- there was no film crew, bright lights and casting calls. It was just him and his phone, sometimes a mask or two.

He was nearly appalled when you just smiled, squeezing his hand.

“That doesn't bother me Jason, I promise. Nothing you could say or do could be a deal breaker for me.”

You didn't really understand it all, how it all worked- but you were supportive nonetheless.

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly when a few minutes later you asked him if he filmed with anyone else. Not that you were jealous or anything if there was- it was work and all, you had quickly added.

“No one else sweetheart. Just me.”

And that had been enough of an explanation for you.

You didn't love him for his money, obviously- but it was definitely a nice bonus. He always lavished you in diamonds and lace- leaving fancy little lingerie pieces on the bed he’d hand pick for you to wear.

“Fuck, we’re gonna have to get you in a video soon sweetheart. Look how pretty you are for me, yeah?” he cooed in your ear as he fisted your hair in his hand, forcing you to look over into the mirror as he pounded into you from behind.

It drove you crazy.

You matched his freak in other ways, you were eager to learn new things and he loved to take care of you- practically using you as a doll for him to fuck however he wanted.

One night he had caught you watching one of his videos you had found on Twitter, your little pants and moans leading him right to the bedroom when he got home late from drinks with his friends.

“Whatdya think you’re doing, sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, making you gasp and quickly pull your hand out from your sleep shorts.

“I’m s-sorry I was just seeing- Just wanted to know what you liked..” you trailed off, squirming as he took heavy strides over to the bed, lifting your head to slide his large knee under it, supporting your weight.

“Well don't stop on my account princess. Show daddy how you touch yourself, yeah? All nice n wet f’me?”

You couldn't get that night out of your mind.

It had been a week since he had caught you in the act, and instead of embarrassed you felt… hornier.

Somehow.

It didn't make sense, you were rather shy and quiet when it came to sex- unless Jason guided you to let go (which you loved). Sex wasn't foreign to you by any means- I mean, your boyfriend was a pornstar for god's sake.

But this?

This weird sense of courage, or pride to show yourself off with him? It was foreign.

You had sat on the idea for a little, and the more you thought about filming with him, the more wet your panties seemed to get at the idea.

It got to the point where you were so caught up in it, Jason had to sit you down on his lap- something he often did when you were either sad, anxious, clingy or in subspace- in the middle of the day.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You’ve been distracted all week. What's on your mind pretty?”

“S’nothing Jay.” you mumbled into his shirt, body going taunt as his hand came down to stroke your head.

“Princess you know better than to hide from me, yeah? Use your big girl words and tell  me what's going on inside that beautiful mind.”

You clung to his shirt, scrunching the fabric with a closed fist as you cleared your throat.

“I just- I was thinking a lot, lately. About, your work.” He stilled.

“And I think, if you’re okay with it, I’d maybe like to be in a video. If you’d let me, if you’re comfortable- I mean.”

Jason was frozen. All you could hear was his gentle breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as you lifted your head, peering up at him.

“Jay?”

“Are you sure angel? You really wanna do that?”

You nodded.

“I think it would be fun. And sexy. Ya know, like you showing me off…” you trailed off, and he smirked.

“You like that, don't you?”

“Maybe a little.”

He cooed at your confession, slowly starting to bounce his knee, just the way he knew drove you crazy. He swore he could hear you purring, like it was a cat who was curled on his thick thighs, and not the sweetest, most precious and innocent little angel he had ever laid eyes on.

Who had just confessed she wanted to film content with him.

Who knew what other tricks she had up her sleeve?

He was eager to find out. And even more eager to show you off, and remind everyone that you were his girl.

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

You had two other tricks up your sleeve.

And those two tricks consisted of Dick Grayson and Peter Parker. His friends, who just so happened to also film content.

Peter seemed to be just as surprised as you were, for going through with this- but more so at Jason.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to share your princess Jason. So possessive all the time, isn't he Dick?” was the first thing he said as he entered, tossing you a flirty little wink.

Jason responded with a growl, entirely proving his point as he started to shield you from the two men who flung themselves down on the couch, peering over at you with nothing but a look of hunger at your innocent little outfit- you had your thigh highs on with your short little pink skirt you knew drove Jason wild.

It seemed to drive more then just him wild, though.

“Jay..” you murmured, placing a gentle hand on his bicep,poking out from behind his towering body.

“I’m doing this for my girl. So make her happy, or so be it..” he grumbled at the guys, making Dick smirk cockily.

“Oh we’ll make her happy alright.”

“She’s so meek, like a little kitten. It's adorable, really.” Peter cooed, leaning over to look at you.

“I don't think we’ve met before angel. But Jason talks our ears off about you.”

“Good things I hope.” you giggled, your eyes meeting with Jasons. There was a darkness in them that you only saw when he was feeling feisty, when you acted out.

Good.

“Only the best things.” Dick chimed in, adjusting himself so he manspread on the couch, and you fought the urge not to stare at the prominent bulge that strained his gray sweats.

You felt a hand slip to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the skin as Jason tugged you closer to him.

“You’re gonna have to stop being so possessive someday Jason. This might be good for you. Like exposure therapy, or whatever.” Peter tsked, eyeing where his hand lay.

“Two rules.” you said, getting everyone's attention, three sets of eyes on you, all perked with attention.

“I want Jay in the room at all times. And, um if for whatever reason if I need to stop or don’t like something, we’re gonna take a breather.”

“Hon, thats a given. One hundred percent, no question.” Dick reassured, Peter nodding beside him in agreement. “And don’t feel pressure about money or anything okay? Even if you decide to suddenly stop- there's no pressure. Money is already on the table for you baby.” Peter added, making you chirp out a little giggle.

“Oh I’m not worried about money, I get plenty of that from him.” you looked over at Jason, his eyes soft and gentle as they stared into yours, as if he was relinquishing in the moment that this was really happening.

That he’d be able to show you off, and know that people could fantasise about your little noises as much as they wanted, but could never have them for themselves.

“I’m gonna go get her prepped. I’ll call you when we’re ready.” Jason stated gruffly, tugging you along like a lost puppy to the bedroom.

You looked over your shoulder, giving the men a little wave and a soft smile as you were guided to the bedroom, before the door shut, leaving you with Jason.

Heat pooled between your legs at the look he gave you, his hard, rough exterior dropping as soon as he was alone with you. He sat on the edge of the bed, manspreading as he silently coaxed you over to him with two fingers.

“You feelin okay pretty?” he asked gently, hand reaching up to cup your cheek, to which you nuzzled into.

He was warm.

“I’m perfect.” you said, making him hum in content. “D’want me to make you feel good baby? Get you all nice n ready before they come- have some privacy?” he cooed, canines nipping at your neck as you giggled, letting him sweep you up and guide you on the bed, lying down under him.

“Jay?”

“Mmm?” he hummed against your skin, planting gentle kisses down your neck.

“You’re mine. Ya know? You’re always mine.”

He stilled, eyes darting up to meet yours, before swiftly kissing you on the mouth with so much passion it sent shivers down your spine as you moaned, arching into the kiss.

He tasted so sweet, so good. It was only when he parted you realized you needed air, letting out a little gasp.

“I know honey. You got that tattoo to prove it. I’m not worried.” he winked, patting your inner thigh gently at the little heart that poked out from under your skirt.

“And you know-” he leaned in close, breath hot and heavy as it ticked your ear. “No one can make you feel as good as I can. They may think they know you, what you like- but I know you sweetheart. You’re mine.”

You moaned, and he cooed at you in content as you wiggled your hips, desperate for friction.

“Can you lift those pretty lil legs for me honey? Drape them over my shoulders, like we always do?” you nodded, complying immediately as you bent them up, so your thigh high socks brushed his skin.

“Gooooood girl. You’re always so good, aren't you?”

His fingers darted down to feel the wet spot through your panties, the pads of his fingers moving in gentle circles as you groaned.

“J-jay-”

He quickly tugged off your little cotton panties in one fluid motion, exposing your bare cunt to him. He bent you forward even more, so your legs were near touching the bed behind you as he examined you.

“Such a pretty lil cunt. So tight too.” he chuckled, rubbing a finger through your soaked folds, tapping your clit and making you jump before he slid a finger in, making you moan loudly.

“Yeah, that's the spot isn't it? Hey, hey look at me-” he guided, other hand coming up to squeeze your cheeks together, making your eyes stare into his.

“It's just us, okay princess? Just you n me. Keep looking at me, I know, I know it feels so good doesnt it?”

“Yess, yes fuck Jay-”

“Thats not my name, sweetheart.” he tsked, curling his finger as he slowly started to pump in and out of you, making you mewl.

“Daddy fuck.” you moaned, head loling to the side as you let bliss take over you- his sign to add a second finger.

“You’re doing so well for me princess. Thats it.” he coaxed, smirking at the blissed out face you made as he went deeper.

The door creaked open, Jasons head whipping back to glare at the guys. “I thought I said I’d call you when shes ready?” he drawled, movements not faulting despite his divided attention.

“She sure as fuck sounds ready to me. Not my fault her pretty lil moans were like a sirens call. Fuck me.” Dick whistled, leaning against the door as he watched you with wide eyes, your head rolling to see him and Peter enter the room, looking at you in awe.

“Shes a natural.”

“She is natural. We don't fake around here, do we princess?” Jason asked, and you quickly shook your head before another broken moan escaped your lips as he curled his fingers again, just the way you liked.

“She likes praise. Rough play, depending on how rough. Some degradation, but I only use it if shes being bad. She may look it, but shes not breakable. Fuck her right.” Jason instructed them, acting like you werent right in front of them, overhearing all of this.

It kinda turned you on more honestly, the way they just kind of let you go.

“Shes so pretty.” Peter cooed, coming over to the bed side, placing a hand on your cheek- just as Jason had done a few moments prior. You nuzzled into his touch, breathing in the gentle smell of his cologne.

You could feel their eyes on you, but it didn't feel uncomfortable, like you were scared it would.

No, it felt… nice. Rewarding.

“I’m gona turn this on now, okay angel?”

You nodded, and the little right light flickered on. “F-fancy.” you hiccuped, making them all laugh.

“Very. Only the best for you.”

You sighed softly as Peters hand trailed down, down to your breasts, squeezing one gently.

“Be gentle with her.” Jason murmured again as he stood, letting the two other guys get a feel for you. It was only fair, you supposed.

“Hi pretty. Is it okay if I flip this up?” Dick asked, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt.

“Do you want it off?” you asked meekly, and he shook his head. “And not show the camera how cute you are in it? In this little getup?”

He pinched your thighs. “S’not a getup its just my clothes- ohhh!” you squealed as Dick was spreading your legs apart, tounge lapping at your cunt like a man starved.

Beofre you could get out another moan, Peters two fingers slid between your parted lips, and your eyes widened in surprise before you obidenly sucked on them.

“You get her like this all the time, dressed like this? Jesus Jason we might have to come drink here.” Peter groaned, Jason only letting out a grunt in reply as he palmed himself through his pants.

“You take it so well sweetheart. Making your little boyfriend over there all hot and bothered.”

You moaned, squirming before Dick squeezed your thighs tighter, forcing you to stay in place. You almost cried at the sensation, his tongue circling your clit, tugging on the little nub.

“Think she's ready?” Peter asked. “You kidding? She’s been ready this whole time. I just wanted to get a taste. So sweet.” Dick hummed, poking his head up from between your thighs, chin glistening in the soft light.

“I get her first. Shes my girlfriend.” Dick rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine yes, yes. So bossy, isnt he? Thats no fun.” Dick hummed as Peter slipped his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop!, a trail of salvia stringing to his digits.

“Ngh-” was all you could get out as Dick flipped you over with no effort, gentle hands rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“S’okay bunny. We’re gonna let you cum as many times as you want. You can make a mess, okay?”

You nodded feverishly. “Am I doing good?”

“So good princess. So good. Can you open your mouth for Peter?” You lolled your tongue out, looking up at the man with glazed over puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck…” he murmered as he tugged down his pants, bundling your hair up in his hand. You felt Jason come over to place a gentle tap on your ass, his indication he was about to enter you.

You clenched in anticipation, barely able to get out a word before they both entered you- from opposite ends.

It was bliss.

Your moan vibrated straight down Peter's dock and he hissed as the sensation, slowly starting to work your mouth in rhythm with Jasons gentle thrusts. He wasn't as rough as he usually was, and you knew it was because of the sudden changes in the bedroom.

He didn't want you to get overwhelmed, and you were thankful for it. All the attention had you buzzing, the praise spewing from their mouths sending like prayers at mass.

“Fuck princess you’re so fucking tight. Always so tight.” Jason growled, tossing his head back in bliss as he spread your ass, plunging into you deeper. You mewled, eyes staring up into Peters, full of lust.

He looked so beautiful, peering down at you from this angle. So tall and handsome, his happy trail brushed against your nose as you took him deep, gagging slightly at his size.

The sound just spurred him on even more, as he fucked your mouth harder, before you gasped for air, tears starting to stream from your waterline.

“S’much, so big-” you sputtered out, gasping for air, mascara smudging down your cheeks.

“My pretty little girl, did so good.” Dicks hands caressed you, hiking up your shirt, for the skin on skin contact.

He let out a little gasp, fingers tracing the ink that dotted your lower back. “My god…” he murmured at your tramp stamp that said princess, with little swirls and stars.

Jason had got it for you, holding your hand the whole time, and planting kisses on your head as you braved through the pain. You had wanted one for months, but could never find the courage to get one, or the money to be spending freely on things like that.

Until- you met Jason, of course.

“I know. Ain't she a treat? Helped her pick it out myself.” Jason smirked, giving your ass a smack.

“Daddy..” you whimpered, head falling down into the sheets without Peter's support.

“My turn. You’re on exposure therapy, remember?” Dick said, about to shoo Jason off before you cried out.

“W-wait I’m about to cum just- please, please-” you begged, more tears starting to stream down from your eyes from the overstimulation your body was feeling.

Legs began to shake as Jason grumbled something incoherent, fucking you harder and deeper, so hard you started to jolt forward down into the sheets.

You reached your hand out and you felt Peters hand cup over yours, his thumb softly stroking your skin in little circles. “You’re doing so good honey. You feelin good? Gonna cum for your daddies?"

You whimpered, nodding as you squeezed his hand as you cried out loudly, cumming on Jason's dick with no warning.

“Fuck. Fuck good girl princess I’m gonna fuck- fucking stay there and let me fill you up.” he groaned, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before you felt the warm, sticky liquid fill up your insides.

Dicks eyes widened in shock, completely forgetting about the camera that was currently focused on the four of you, whipping his head to Jason.

“Wait can you d-”

“M’on the pill.” you heaved out, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck. Fuckin hell, move.” Dick groaned, quickly taking Jasons place, wasting no time to plunge deep into you, shoving Jasons leaking cum back inside as he fucked you slowly.

You swore you saw stars behind your eyes as Peter started to slip his fingers back in your mouth, relieving your oral fixation.

You cried out, muffed between his digits as Dick picked up the pace, just as Jason did. Hitting spots you could only dream of.

“I know baby I know that was a stretch wasn’t it? But I promise it’ll feel so good, you’re doing so good for me- aren’t you? My sweet thing.” he cooed, making your eyes roll.

“J-jay is s’much. So, so much.”

“I know princess, you wanna stop? Just say your word.”

You shook your head. “N-gh- no I wanna keep going just- just need you here.” you reached for his hand squeezing it as well.

It was so big and rough, swallowing your palm whole. You looked over into his soft gaze, a little smile on his face that he saved only for you.

“I’m here princess. Daddys right here for his lil girl.”

[kwoniele]

his (favorite) cheerleader

synopsis: cheerleading practice seems to affect seungcheol a lot more than you expected.

genre: smut

pairing: seungcheol x cheerleader!reader

wc: 737

warnings: rough sex! clearly i have a kink.. creampie, unprotected sex (please do NOT do this! use protection always) overprotective cheol, praise, scratching 😝, BABE THIS ISNT PROOFREAD ☺️ none of my works are tbh. i think thats all? please lmk if there are more!

authors note: hiii im baackkk!! this was supposed to be a celebratory fic for from behind but unfortunately i got quite occupied with my assignments (ack?) and didn’t get to ginish but u can read this as a standalone haha also my requests are open! please request SOMETHING im in need of ideas.. ok bye enjoy

nervous.

thats how you made seungcheol feel.

honestly, he would have never felt this way if he had stopped you from wearing the skimpy skirt for cheerleading practice. you asked him permission before choosing to wear it for the day because one: you would hate to make him feel like you’re dressing like a slut for everyone to see and two: the girls in your crew are bringing their boyfriends.

you would never admit it, but the girls in your squad have terrible taste for men. all of them are either desperate for a quick fuck with anyone but their girlfriends, or theyre in denial and swear to like women but seem to enjoy having drinks with your boyfriend instead.

but seungcheol didn’t hold you back. he swore it was okay and that you looked amazing in the skirt. he explained that he was going to be right beside you the entire time and that things were going to be alright. because he was there.

he was concerned that the boys would be very much eyeing you for a minute too long, or your name would be the name they’d be chanting for the entire game rather than their girlfriend’s.

he was wrong.

he was the person he was worried about.

the way the skirt almost barely covered your ass, the way your hair stuck to your forehead sticky with sweat, how your chest heaved whenever you finished a routine; he felt like he was going absolutely insane.

regardless of the fact he promised you he’d behave, he wasn’t doing a good job of fulfilling it. he could feel his cock slowly growing in his pants and he was not trying to hide it.

“seungcheol-ah, if you’re in need of relief, we’d really appreciate it if you could do it somewhere else and not on the freshly cleaned bleachers.” irene’s boyfriend lightly elbowed seungcheol,

cheol shot him a glare before his eyes slowly rested on you again. you were hot. if male ovulation was a thing, cheol was the epitome of it. all he heard was ringing and inaudible chatter as his attention was focused on you. his eyes were in the shape of hearts as he watched you perform.

he couldn't wait to go home. he just knew what he’d do to you as soon as you step foot into your house.

—

“haa~ cheol!” if he had asked you to count how many times you’ve come tonight, you wouldn’t be able to answer him. your cum had made a creamy white ring around his cock, slowly growing thicker and thicker as his thrusts began to pick up rhythm faster than the one before.

your voice began to strain, sweat started to trickle down the back of your neck, your hips were burning red as seungcheol showed no mercy at all. it was as if his dick had a mind of its own. his tip kisses your g-spot, making you arch from the bed as cheol’s hand pushed you down.

“you were so fucking pretty out there. did you know that? i was worried the boys would be a fucking idiot around you— fuck.” he threw his head back in a moan. “but it turns out, i was the one going insane.”

his lips traveled to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses beside the bruises he had made earlier. his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to whine controllably as your gripped onto his shoulders. “pleaaase, let me cum!”

“yeah? my baby wants to cum?” seungcheol rapidly thrusted into you—if that was even possible—even more, making you slip out incoherent words as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“yes! yes! yes! please let me cum please!” your nails clawed his back, leaving dark red marks as he winces in pain.

“fuck, cum with me okay?” you nodded in agreement, not caring about the neighbours who were probably wide awake, or the open windows that seungcheol didn’t bother to shut, or your cheerleading outfit that you definitely needed the following day.

“you can cum, beautiful.” he painted your walls with white ribbons as you breathed heavily—cumming right after him. you came so hard that you saw stars. as soon as you finally caught your breath, seungcheol was already rubbing you with a warm cloth, cleaning up his mess.

“you’re so responsible, you know?”

“mhm, i am. just not when you’re at cheerleading practice.” you giggle.

“you should come more often.”

[nickfowlerrr]

something good and true - part 1

pairing: mob boss!bucky barnes x reader

warnings (for all parts in whole): 18+ only. domestic violence. retelling of abuse and battery. minor character death mentioned. angst. sweet and protective bucky. fluff. not sure if this qualifies as a slow burn or not 👀 smut. there’s a happy ending! (as per usual)

words: 4.5k

notes: this fic was supposed to be posted last year for suz’s blind date writing challenge but clearly that is not what happened. a year later and some thousands+ words over the maximum allowed (in total), i was finally able to wrap this thing up. i’m posting in parts bc it’s just so long and ahhh i’m sorry i didn’t follow your rules suz @targaryenvampireslayer 😭 and honest to god there is absolutely no expectation for you to read or even acknowledge this! i just want to give credit where credit is due and so this, my first mob boss!fic, is all thanks to the mob boss au prompt you had given to me! so thank you - and sorry again 🫢 dialogue used: “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”. thank you in advance for reading, i’d be happy to hear your thoughts! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so appreciated. 🩵

He’s staring again. You can feel it. The heat creeps up your spine as your heart begins to beat a little faster. The feeling has become quite familiar. It’s been two months of this. You had a feeling he’d be back, but really you hoped he’d have just let it go by now. It’s not like you thought any of this through, though… Of course there’d be consequences; and none worse, you’re sure, than the ones he could dish out.

It’s not your fault, you try to remind yourself. It’s not. You finish wiping off the table of the newly vacated booth, tucking the cash tip left for you in your pocket, before you turn around.

You steel yourself, taking a strong breath before you start to walk toward his private booth. You’re not stupid, you know the only reason he comes here is for you, he told you as much himself. And everyone else knows that too as the place has become nearly empty since his arrival. Even your coworkers aren’t bustling about. You don’t know if you prefer having the audience or not. You don’t blame anyone for their fleeing, though. After all the stories you’d heard about the man, you always made yourself scarce in his presence, too.

Until the faithful night he requested you at his table by name… You sigh, it seems you no longer have the luxury of avoidance.

You remember that night well. The first time you formally met the infamous mob boss, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

You remember how it felt like your blood turned to ice in your very veins when Molly uttered your name with worried eyes, “Mr. Barnes is asking for you specifically,” she had whispered as she peaked into the kitchen where you’d fled when you heard he was being sat at his rarely used, always reserved table.

You felt sick. Like a lead weight was dropped in your stomach. You wrung your hands until it hurt before you finally nodded. You were sure she could see the fear in your eyes when you looked at her. “O-okay. I’ll be right there,” you’d nodded. You had to swallow down the bile threatening to creep up your throat. He knows, you’d thought. He has to know. That’s why he’s here. That’s why he’s looking for you. You were breathing hard and heavy and you could feel the tears welling in your still sensitive eyes. You were caked in makeup, had been all week, to hide the bruises that marred all over your face. It wasn’t anything unusual. But there was an eerie comfort you felt in knowing once they were finally gone this time, you wouldn’t have to see yourself like that again.

You were in a long sleeve so you knew he wouldn’t be able to see the marks along your arms, and unless he had X-ray vision he wouldn’t be able to see the contusions littered all over your body either. You had a brace on your wrist but it wasn’t too noticeable under the sleeve… Okay, you breathed. You can do this. Deny, deny, deny. You don’t even truly know what he’s here for. You shouldn’t freak yourself out before you’ve even seen him.

You exhaled a shaky breath before you reached for the kitchen door.

It was dead silent as you entered the dining hall and it only added to the compounding fear and anxiety growing inside you.

You approached his table cautiously, too nervous to make direct eye contact as you held your pen and pad in hand.

“Good evening, sir, - uhm, Mr. Barnes,” you corrected yourself, “can I get you started with something to-“

“I’m not here for drinks or the mediocre food, doll,” he stopped you easily, unnervingly calm.

You chanced a glance at him and his deep blue gaze had you swallowing hard.

You didn’t know how to respond, so you stayed quiet as he stared at you. Like he knew something. Like he knew you knew something.

“Hm,” he considered you for a moment longer before nodding, “ya know, I think you know why I’m here.”

“I-“, you shook your head almost imperceptibly, “I don’t,” was all you could muster as your eyes were now glued to him. You couldn’t will yourself to look away. You were too terrified.

He licked his lip seemingly out of habit before he spoke again.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asked, sounding exasperated, bored of the interaction already as he tilted his head at you.

You stiffened at the question, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

“I don’t-“

“You do.” He stopped you again, the certainty in his voice leaving no room to deny his accusation. His eyes cutting into you as you stood before him, defenseless. You felt like you couldn’t breathe but you couldn’t just stand there looking terrified. You had to work up your voice and it came out quiet, but Bucky was listening, and watching you, intently.

“I don’t know where Freddy is,” you said, voice low, trying to keep the tremor from it as you finally felt your eyes sting, the fear and pain catching up to you as you blinked the would be tears away before a single one fell. “And he’s not my boyfriend,” you swallowed, “anymore.”

“No?”

“No. We broke up…about a month ago.”

“That’s interesting…” he hummed. “Why did someone see his car at your place the other week, then, huh?”

You winced at the images that ran through your mind as you thought back to that day, the one you knew he was referring to.

“He came over, to talk,” you forced out, no longer looking at the man before you. “But nothing came from it,” you added quickly, “and he left. I haven’t seen him since. Haven’t heard from him, I don’t know where he is.”

You didn’t look at him but by the weight of his gaze you knew he wasn’t buying what you were selling.

“What happened here?” he asked, reaching for your hand.

You were quite literally frozen to your spot as he grabbed your hand in his. His touch was the most gentle you’d experienced in a long while and it sent an unexpected hum through you. You watched your hand in his as he pulled you just the tiniest bit closer to him and the table. He inched up your sleeve to see more of the brace on your wrist and when he moved to raise your sleeve further up your arm, your body finally moved into action. You yanked your hand back, as if his touch had burned you, keeping him from seeing anything more than the brace.

“Fell,” you answered shortly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, but I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t know where he is. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t really care.”

You met his eye once more, feeling a little safer as the words came easily. It wasn’t a complete lie. You really didn’t know where he was. And you certainly didn’t care. Despite the scrutiny of the mob boss’ gaze, you didn’t feel nearly as scared as you had before he touched your hand. Something about the softness there… You wouldn’t dwell on it.

“If there’s nothing else,” you added, though it was definitely more of an unspoken question than anything. You weren’t as scared but you weren’t stupid either. You wouldn’t be going anywhere until he dismissed you.

He smirked, huffing a laugh as he watched you.

“You hear from him, I’d be grateful to know,” he slipped his hand into his coat pocket and took out a business card, placing it on the table as he flicked his sharp eyes up to you once more, moving to pull out his wallet next. You watched as he slipped out two bills and blanched as he put them down on the table, moving the card so it sat on the money.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stood from his seat, standing right in front of you as you took in his build and stature. Everything about him screamed success, power, and authority and the two hundreds he left on the table were nothing more than chump change to him, you were sure.

“Just so you know, doll,” he spoke lowly, “I will find him, one way or another,” he took a step closer to you, “and if you think you’re protecting him by not telling me the truth, I promise you’re not.” He held your gaze and you were terrified he could see straight into your soul with how intent it was, “What’s even worse, is he knows we know all about you. He doesn’t care if he’s putting you in harm’s way or not… Forgive me for saying, but nice girl like you, you deserve a hell of a lot better than that. So, if you think of anything you might wanna tell me, my number’s right there,” he said looking back over to the card and money on the table. “That’s your tip. You enjoy your night, sweetheart. I’ll be seeing you.”

His words weren’t a threat, but a promise.

He would be seeing you. Didn’t always call you to his table, sometimes just observed you while you worked, but every week without fail from that day on, he would be at the restaurant.

You never called him, you didn’t have anything to say. You wouldn’t tell him the truth, no, you couldn’t tell him the truth. He was half right, you were protecting someone. But it wasn’t Freddy.

You breathe another strong sigh as you get closer to him and once you’re at the table, you don’t say a word, only meeting his brilliant and pointed gaze.

There’s something different about him tonight, something unnerving in his stare that you take notice of right away. You work to keep your calm but you’re not sure how convincing your faux headstrong demeanor is tonight.

He lets the silence between you grow for a moment longer before finally, he speaks.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

His voice is like honey, smooth and rich with that familiar lilt as his lips quirk up just at the corner of his mouth. It warms you while he holds your eye. There’s unspoken tension between you two as you stand so close yet so far, it’s been brewing since your first meeting and has only grown with each interaction since. You’ve never named it, but you couldn’t deny it if you’d wanted to. You haven’t felt your tummy flutter like this since…you can’t remember when.

Surely he knows what his gaze does to anyone, you’re no exception. But the nerves you feel under the weight of his stare are twofold - not all due to fear, but to flustering.

You haven’t responded, but you’ve held his eye in the silence. He smirks at you before gesturing to the open space across from him.

“Why don’t you take a seat, sweetheart.”

It sounds like an invitation, but you know it’s more than that.

It’s an instruction.

You look around briefly, as if someone might stop you or get you in trouble - but that’s laughable when you’re standing next to, arguably, the most feared and respected man this city has ever seen. Standing. Why is he standing? You realize suddenly he’s still waiting for you to move.

You do as he said and gingerly sit down across from him. He retakes his own seat as you settle. How chivalrous.

“I’ll get right to it,” he starts, his deep blue eyes never leaving you, “Freddy-“

God, that name. You can’t hold your tongue. You know it’s why he’s here but you don’t want to talk about this. You just want this to be over!

“Like I told you the last time, and the time before, and the time before, and every other time you’ve asked, I haven’t seen him.” You cut him off without thinking. But you really can’t have the same conversation again. You can’t keep having to think about him. About that night. You're at your wits end - you don’t want to have to so much as hear his name again. You don’t catch yourself in the moment but it hits you when you’re done talking that you just spoke to Bucky in such a familiar way…someone walking past might wonder who exactly you are to him. Clearly you’ve forgotten your place, gotten a little too comfortable around him.

You look up from where you watch yourself wring your hand and shamefully meet his eye again. You inhale and start to apologize but he doesn’t give you the chance.

His hand is on yours before you realize he’s even moving and you flinch a second late, his gentle touch already on you, stilling your nervous habit.

His eyes soften as he makes you meet his gaze, his thumb gently rubbing your fidgety hand.

You swallow hard and watch as he blinks away the previous softness in his gaze, his familiar confident twinkle back as he speaks,

“I know,” he nods, his hand still on yours. He’s closer as he leans across the table. “I found him.”

Your breath catches and your face falls. Fuck fuck fuck.

What does that mean? What does he know? You’re on the verge of having a complete freak out and god he can probably see it written all over your face. You feel a squeeze of your hand and are brought back into your body, into this very moment.

“Don’t look so sick, sweetheart,” he says, a half smile on his lips. “You don’t have anything to worry about, you or your old man.”

Your heart drops at the mention of your father and Bucky must see it because he leans closer still, now holding your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting, but more so is the look in his eyes. The sincerity there, and the hard edge of protection.

You want to believe him but you’ve been gullible before.

“I just wanna know the whole story. I know pretty much what went down, some things I think can safely be assumed, but I wanna hear your narrative, just to get the full picture and get this whole mess squared away, yeah?”

The way he’s looking deeply into your shining eyes, the intimate gaze and soft touch as it seems like he’s trying to keep you calm, you can’t speak much but you give him a quiet, “yeah.”

He nods and you feel a single tear slip down your cheek. He slowly raises his hand, and your eyes are glued to him as he makes sure you watch his movements. Like he’s trying to reach out to a scared little puppy, he reaches to gently touch your cheek. You don’t flinch but as his hand makes contact with your skin, your eyes shut as you try and suppress a shudder.

“No tears, sweetheart,” he tells you in a soothing timbre as he wipes it from your cheek. “You’re too pretty to cry over a loser like that,” he adds with a soft smile.

You shake your head, “He’s not why I’m-“

“I know,” he cuts you off. “Look at me,” he orders gently.

You do as he says and slowly meet his eye. “You don’t have anything to worry about, ya hear me? Not the police, not my men, and certainly not me. Got it?”

You know you’re staring at him like he’s crazy, but you do understand what he’s saying. It takes you a second but you force yourself to nod.

“Good.”

His touch is still on you as his eyes trail all over your face before he lets his hand slip away.

“Alright, you wanna do this tonight or tomorrow night?”

You’re momentarily stunned. You definitely don’t want to do this tonight. You just need to get through the last two hours here and then you’re headed home to unravel in your own space. But tomorrow…

“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day,” you point out, sounding unsure.

“What,” he sniffs, looking at you once again, “you got plans?”

“I, I have work,” you answer dumbly after a second.

“Not anymore you don’t,” he says, moving to stand. “So tomorrow it is.” He walks closer to you and extends his hand for you to take, helping you out of the booth. “And you’ve got the rest of the night off.”

“Oh, I carpooled today so, I have to wait anyway,” you explain, though the idea of leaving early sounds like heaven.

“I’ll drive you. Get your things, I’ll have the car pulled around,” he supplies easily. He leaves to the front of the restaurant and you stand in your stupor for only a moment longer before you move to get your things from the back. You have a silly thought worrying about giving him your address, then remember he’s had it this entire time. And he told you you had nothing to worry about.

You’re not a typically trusting person, even more so after Fred, but there's something about Bucky. Something trustworthy, something that feels safe.

You grab your bag and let Molly know you’re leaving early and you got a ride before you head to the front to find Bucky.

He’s waiting patiently and his eyes seem to light up just a bit when he sees you coming.

Your manager is smiling tightly behind the stand as she watches you go. You feel slightly bad for just cutting out like this, but once Bucky came in, the place cleared out some, so it’s not like they’re in the midst of a rush.

You let your work worries slip away as the brisk night air hits you, Bucky holds the door for you as you exit and then opens the passenger of his sleek, blacked out Jaguar for you to get in.

You always assumed someone like him, in his position, would have a driver, but maybe that’s just not his style.

Bucky gets in and as you buckle, begins to drive off. You don’t need to supply him with your address as he heads in the right direction without a word.

It’s quiet but not unbearably so. It’s not until you’re just a couple minutes away from your place that he breaks the silence.

“I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow. I figure it’s a delicate conversation we’ll be having, so somewhere private would be better. Are you okay with going to my place? We can have dinner.”

It’s a genuine question, and the earnestness of it eases your nerves even further. He’s truly asking, genuinely concerned with your comfortability.

“Mhm,” you nod with a quiet hum. “Yeah.”

He pulls up in front of your house, the porch light on and shining because you knew you wouldn’t be off until late.

The car cuts off and you turn to face Bucky only to find him opening his door and getting out himself.

You grab your bag and follow him with your eyes as he rounds the car to get to your side. He gallantly pulls open the door for you and helps you out with care. You stand and he closes the car door before you start up the path to the front door. It’s a short walk and as you reach the door you turn to look at him as he stays beside you.

“Thank you, for the ride, and…” you trail off not knowing how to articulate what it is you want to say. Thankfully he doesn’t make you continue. He smiles softly at you.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.”

You blink at him. You don’t know what else to say. You finally look away and turn to the door to unlock it.

“When you said I don’t have anything to worry about,”

“I meant you don’t have anything to worry about,” he answers you before you finish your question. “I’m gonna make this all go away, I just need to know if there’s any loose ends we need to tie up to be done with it, that’s all.”

Your eyes sting again. He makes it sound so easy, so simple.

“I-“ your voice threatens to break.

“Hey, we don’t needa talk about it right now, doll. You just go inside, relax, eat, get some rest. You don’t gotta stress a thing anymore, alright? I’ve got you, there’s nothin for you to worry about.”

“…Why are you being so nice to me?” you look at him with bleary eyes as you crack the front door open and ask the question you’ve been wondering for the past two months.

He takes a small step closer to you and gently turns your face to look at him. “Why do you expect cruelty?”

You stutter a breath as you look at him and feel the memories of the year you spent caught up with Freddy stab at you. You know why, and you’re sure he does, too. But there’s no sense of judgment coming from him, and you don’t feel embarrassed; not like the way you do in front of your mom. She’s the only other person who knows what happened, what your dad did. For you.

She never said it, you don’t expect she ever will, but you can sense the thoughts, the subtle judgement from her, especially when this all first happened. She doesn’t know the truth but you don’t have the care to tell her. Because even if what she assumed was true, it doesn’t change anything. No one deserves that.

But the truth is, you didn’t stay. The first time he put his hands on you, you were gone. He just wouldn’t leave you alone. You were together for six months at that point and they were nice, nothing overly romantic like you see in the movies, but nice. You weren’t expecting anything long lasting, marriage wasn’t even a thought. You knew he wasn’t the one, but dating was… fun. And then, one day, a switch flipped.

He wasn’t the kind, but nonchalant guy you thought he was. He was angry, like it was your fault the relationship wasn’t what he wanted, that it wasn’t more. He wanted it to work so badly, but he knew it never would. That only kept his ire burning. And so during the other six months you were ‘together’ you were really nothing close. You avoided him every chance you got and when he’d find his way in he’d always be sure to leave his mark. He kept up appearances of course, to everyone it seemed. You didn’t want to look crazy, so what were you going to say? ‘I broke up with him months ago and I don’t know why he won’t accept that. He uses me like a punching bag when he gets me alone - when he breaks into my car, my home, any way he can weasel into my life.’ He was in with the mob and everyone knew it, so even if they believed you, what the hell would anyone be able to do? At a certain point you just kind of accepted that this must be it. He’d always just be around somehow. Stories of your on and off again relationship floating around thanks to him - he wanted everyone to know that even if you weren’t together, you were together. Making it harder and harder for you in every way possible.

And then, one day, everything changed.

Now you’re here, and he isn’t.

Now you’re here, and so is James Barnes.

His warm hand is still holding your face and his thumb gently rubs your soft cheek, almost mindlessly, while he peers at you - intent as ever. That softness you saw before is back and you have to remind yourself to breathe when you notice his gaze flit to your lips. It’s brief, fleeting as his hand drops and he meets your eyes once more. He takes back his step and you watch him take a deep breath himself, the first time you’ve ever seen him be anything close to unsteady, if that’s what you can call it.

You break eye contact first, looking down to the small space between you while you push your door open a bit more, holding onto the handle with one hand.

“Have a good night,” he says, voice low and quiet as he watches you step closer yet to the door.

You look at him again then, “You too,” you bid softly, finally stepping inside.

He nods and waits for you to close the door behind yourself. As you push it shut, you catch a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and then that fluttering in your belly returns again.

You turn the lock and then press yourself up against the wood, exhaling heavily.

You feel relieved and yet ten times more terrified in the very same breath.

The most pressing feeling in this very moment though is a weird kind of guilt.

You feel more for a man you’ve only known for two months than you ever did for Freddy in the entire time you’d known him. Bucky is intimidating, obviously, and you know what he does, what he’s known for; he’s a man anyone would tell you to avoid at all costs. But when he’s around, there’s this feeling you get that you just can’t shake. You feel safe around him.

He’s known for being a man of his word, and his words to you have never been anything but thoughtful and…caring. He may prod, but he’s never threatened you. Truth be told, you think maybe he’s known this entire time what really happened. Or at least that you were involved somehow. And still, he wasn’t harsh with you even once. He was doing his own investigation this entire time, of course, and if he’d wanted to get the truth from you, surely he could have- he could’ve saved a lot of time too. Could’ve even gone after your dad.

But he didn’t do any of those things. No, he’s been patient, waiting until he had enough proof without having to pry anything out of you. At the very least you were grateful for that.

Not to mention the fact that he had called you pretty. It seems silly given the circumstances, but it did warm you when the compliment hit. It’s crazy but it’s clear that you’re feeling feelings for one James Bucky Barnes. God help you.

Alongside the unexpected romantic stirrings you’re coming to terms with, the anxiety and stress of the truth you’ve been trying, and apparently failing, to keep about what happened to Freddy has been weighing heavily on you, but with Bucky’s veiled acknowledgment of it, you feel more free already.

It’d be a lie to say you aren’t nervous for tomorrow night, but it’d also be a lie to say a part of you isn’t looking forward to it, too. If for no reason other than what Bucky said; to finally just be done with this whole mess.

[lilacxquartz]

homicipher x reader: valentine’s day

scenario: how the residents react to being around you on valentine’s day. just a fun little thing for today! <3

included: mr. crawling, mr. scarletella & mr. gap — themes: romance, yandere-lite for mr scarletella, fluff, humour, gender neutral reader — w.c: each piece is below 500 words • masterlist • my ao3

Mr. Crawling

For a while now, there were certain artifacts that had bled through the surface world into the ghost apartments. Mr. Crawling, who had seldom left you alone, would sometimes shuffle away to patrol the area, ensuring that you were as safe as one could possibly be.

To his surprise, there were new objects scattered everywhere within a room. Things like cards and empty boxes and wrapping paper adorned with the faded decor of little red hearts and the like. He didn’t quite grasp the meaning behind these things, but they seemed special.

Almost like a type of offering.

If these were declarations of love, then he had to give something for you too. It was only right to do so, after all, he loved you more than anyone else ever could.

The world above was sooner yours, so you would definitely understand, he thought. He gathered everything he found from cards, to heart shaped things to dried out bouquets of flowers—anything that he deemed good enough as a result—unloading the many contents over your lap as you woke up in bed.

“For you,” he began, watching you wake up. “I give you.”

You blinked at the pile of cards and empty boxes in the shapes of hearts alike, taking in the sheer amount of Valentine’s day offerings that there were. You had seen remnants of these things scattered earlier on, but Mr. Crawling had been busy—this might have been the whole stock.

“For you,” he pushed again, seeming almost expectant.

You smiled, scooping up the cards and hugging them to your chest.

“I love th—“

Love. That’s a word he knew! Before you could even blink again, let alone finish your sentence, Mr. Crawling was all over you within a flash, with his ashen arms wrapping tight around your form, happily exclaiming his success.

“Love, love, love!” he repeated again and again, drunk on the words that swirled around in his head like a feverish mantra.

You loved it.

You loved him.

(And that’s all he could ever ask for.)

~~~

Mr Scarletella

Valentine’s day was something that was not yet lost on Mr. Scarletella. He knew about it a little too well for everyone’s liking and now that he had you to obsess over, his pining for you was almost suffocatingly obvious.

Somehow, this bit of knowledge was late in reaching you. For the most part, you came to the conclusion that Valentine’s day was either not a well known topic in these apartments, or, it was just met with general indifference.

However, from the moment you had crossed paths with Mr. Scarletella yet again, you knew that something was up.

(He seemed somehow more intense than usual.)

He stood in front of you, holding out a note that had something written on it in blood red ink—if it was even ink at all—the drying liquid seeping into coppery maroon hues.

You warily plucked the paper away from him, narrowing your eyes at the text. It was a name, it seemed. Not yours—you knew better. His?

“Be… my… Valentine?” he slowly said.

You repeatedly flicked the corner of the card along your thumb, lost deep in thought. You supposed that this was better than him trying to hunt you down for the time being, so you accepted.

You gulped, toning your voice down into a slight sulk as you granted him such an admission, if only to be petty.

“Fine,” you said, “I will be your Valentine.”

For a moment, nothing seemed to change, but then suddenly, he was in your face within a beat.

“I love you,” he said.

You turned away, deciding to leave all this alone and yet he followed you, popping up around the corner and the next, holding onto those same three little words.

Wherever you went, so did he; no longer hunting you for your name, but rather to bombard you with endless affection, unable to quite tear away.

Wherever it was that you went, you would very likely soon hear those three little words swirling around in your head, and maybe it was because you were going crazy from him, but… you almost didn’t even mind after a while.

In fact, you even accepted it.

You found yourself wanting him back.

~~~

Mr Gap:

As you were wandering around the ghost apartments, Mr. Gap popped up without a hint of a warning, just about scaring the (lack of) life clean out of you. From the moment you turned the corner, you spotted his ghastly face watching you from within the void.

He held up an old news clipping to you with smudged ink on the paper, but you could just about read the words:

“Valentine’s Day! Give your heart to your true love!”

Likely from an old advert, maybe?

Then, in his usual rasping voice, he managed to croak out the words, “You… my valentine?”

You blinked, tilting your head in slight bewilderment, but entertained it all the same. “Oh?” you asked. “You want me to be your valentine? Well, alright…” though, a chill ran down your spine as you said that, a wave of potential apprehension tiding you over.

Just as you were about to continue onwards, too, Mr. Gap caught your wrist with his greying calloused hand, tugging you back to where he sat.

“Give heart,” he demanded, almost, his voice laced with pure entitlement. It would be cute, if he wasn’t asking for your literal organ.

Of course, you knew better than to indulge in his strangely literal needs. Valentine’s day had been bleeding into this world, luckily enough for you, so you had a box full of heart shaped chocolates wrapped in red foil on your person.

Good timing on picking those up, too, because now you had a means to get out.

Cautiously, you threw him a piece.

“There you go,” you said, “a heart.”

Mr. Gap snatched the small object from your hand with some annoyance in his glare, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out what to do with such a thing. At first, he bit into the foil, recoiling at the sensation but then he had half a mind to peel it off, biting into the chocolate instead. His eyes widened in what appeared to be delight and then he slinked off, leaving you completely alone… or so you thought.

Oh, how wrong you were, in fact.

Every time you would pass by a wall or any surface that had a hole caved inside, Mr. Gap would suddenly emerge from the darkness and into your company, fading in from the shadows within the blink of an eye.

And each time, he would clear his throat, demanding more of the hearts, calling you ‘My Valentine’ whenever you dared to walk away.

Giving him the chocolates wasn’t the problem, though.

It was the part where you were running out of them.

With just one left.

[junhanism]

Emergency contact - Han Taesan

pairing. han taesan x gn!reader

genre. fluff, badboy!taesan ? (he gets into fights and reader treats his wounds), friends to lovers, tiny bit of angst?

warnings. just a TINY BIT of blood (obv), probably some typos and/or grammatical errors i wrote this at 1am

NOTE : inspired by the song ‘Emergency contact’ by PTV and this fic (hope its not too similar tho 😓)

wc. 1.7k

Your phone lit up with a small ‘ding’, tearing your attention away from your study cards you desperately needed a break from.

You touched the screen before it could go black again and checked what the notification was ; it was a text. Your eyes traveled up, checking the time : 23:57.

who would text you this late in the evening?

The contact name read ‘Taesan’.

of course, it could only be him and you knew exactly what the text was about without even having to read it.

Your fingers hurriedly swiped up and entered your passcode, opening the message app and landing on Taesan’s text : ‘can i come over ?’

You let out a sigh as you type a ‘everything’s ready’, getting up from your chair before you could even hit the send button.

After answering his text you let go of your phone and immediately made your way to your small bathroom, looking through your drawers for some bandaids and ointment that could sooth his bruises. You stored them all in the same drawer since this has become a daily occurrence now ; Taesan showing up at your door late at night, knuckles bruised and face tattooed with dried blood and hues of purple and blue.

You then went into the kitchen and took out a small bag of ice from your freezer that you bought especially for his late nights visits.

You made your way back into the living room just in time to hear faint knocks against your wooden door, indicating that he was here.

As you opened your door, your hands immediately made their way to his face, examining every centimeters of it.

He had two big cuts adorning his cheekbones just below his right eye and a bruise in the corner of his lips as well as a small cut on it. His usual confident and composed demeanor was replaced by exhaustion and noticeable pain as soon as he stepped inside your place.

It was always the same ; he tried his best not to let his facade crack and not show any sign of pain but you knew him better than anyone to know that he was hurting.

Your eyes fell on his bruised knuckles as you grabbed his wrist to pull him inside of your appartement, directing him to the living room.

You sat him down on your couch and without a word you stood in front of him and started dabbing a wet cloth on his cuts, getting rid of the dried blood around them. It was almost automatic now.

Taesan hissed slightly at the contact but let you do it nonetheless, he knew better than to stop you.

As you applied the ointment on his face Taesan searched for your eyes. The way you were silently treating his wounds was unusual and the silence felt almost suffocating to him.

You would usually scold him for getting into another fight, tell him how worried you got everytime, but this time you didn’t utter a single word. And that somehow stressed him out.

“Im sorry you have to do this so often” he spoke, cutting through the silence.

You momentarily stopped your movements, slightly taken aback by the sudden confession but kept on applying the creme on his skin.

“its okay,” you say as you hand him the ice pack “someone has to do it” you smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes and he didn’t fail to catch on that detail.

But Taesan was not convinced by your answer and you knew it.

He squinted his eyes at you as he pressed the ice against the bruise on his lip.

“Scold me”

“what ?” you ask, letting out confused chuckle as you carefully applied a bandaid on his cuts. A beat passed without him answering and you started to put away all the medical supplies but you could feel Taesan eyeing your every movement —which made you heart beat abnormally fast but you tried your best to not let it show.

You looked up at him and met his eyes that were already waiting for yours. They were filled with confusion and a hint of something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“You always scold me for getting into fights, why don’t you scold me tonight?” he asked, sounding almost offended by your behavior.

You let out a small laugh at that, taking a sit next to him and grabbing the ice pack from his hand. “Because no matter how many times i scold you it doesn’t stop you from getting into fights ‘san” you took a hold of his hand and pressed the ice against his red knuckles “i know it’s useless” you finished.

He didn’t answer, he knew you were right.

His eyes were fixated on your hand holding his and the way you carefully applied the ice on his bruises.

“Can i stay the night?” he looked at you

“Of course you can, Taesan”

You met his eyes and a soft smile made its way to his lips, gaze filled with something you would assume to be gratefulness “Thank you Y/n”

You gathered everything you used to treat him and went to the bathroom, putting the supplies back in their respective drawers.

As you made your way back to the room you found the boy sprawled out on your bed, making himself comfortable. You were not surprised given the amount of times this very situation happened in the past— this kind of evening happens at least once a week.

Taesan patted the space next to him, indicating you to join him on the bed. This action, as mundane as it was, never failed to wake the butterflies in your stomach, wondering if this is how dating Taesan would be like.

You turned off your desk lamp and climbed on the one-person-sized bed, squeezing yourself as best as you could to prevent falling off, but sharing your bed with him happened often and not once did you wake up on the floor as his hand would always coincidently find its way to your waist in the middle of the night.

You comfortably lied down next to him and silence took over, both of you starring at the dark ceiling, lost in thoughts

Just as your eyes started to close Taesan broke the silence ; “Thank you”

You turned your head in his direction, confused.

“You already thanked me Taesan” you chuckled

“No i didn’t,” he turned his head to you, meeting your eyes.

You faces were so close to one another your noses were almost touching “not for everything.”

Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness and you could just hope he didn’t hear it.

“what do you mean ?” you quietly ask

“You’ve been taking care of me for the past years but i never properly thanked you,” he started “and i feel sorry everytime. I know im disappointing and burdening you but i come back to your door every time”

“why though ?”

“I don’t know,” he turned his head back to ceiling, giving you a perfect view of his side profile. “you might or might not be my emergency contact” he licked his lips in slight embarrassment.

You were surprised by his statement. Why would he choose you out of everyone to be his emergency contact ? Aside from treating his wounds late at night you were not sure if you’ve ever been of much help in case of emergency.

“Me? Why?”

The boy turned his head back to you, looking at you as if the answer to that question was obvious.

He let out a sigh, realizing that he’ll have to explain himself more for you to get his point.

“I guess… i feel safe with you. I don’t feel ashamed or judged about getting into fights,” he said, gaze flickering down to your lips for just a millisecond before starting again “you’re the only person who’s ever been worried about me, everyone else just gave up, saying im hopeless”

You stayed silent at that, what were you supposed to say ? ‘The reason im so worried is because im so in love with you and this ever since the first time you came bloody, knocking on my door’ ?? That wouldn’t work.

Instead your hand traveled down to his, softly brushing against it, testing the waters.

Taesan got the message and grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“You know,” he spoke after a while “i actually considered stopping, for you” he brought your intertwined hands to his lips, hovering them against the back of your hand.

“But then i realized that if i stopped i wouldn’t get to see you every nights” he planted a peck on your skin.

Your eyes widened — was it from his action or the truth he just spoke out, you were not sure but Taesan could see from your expression that the scolding he was waiting for was about to spill.

“Are you out of your mind ?” you loudly asked, a contrast from the previous, quiet conversation. “Getting into fights just to see me ? Putting your life on the line when you could just text to come over ? Taesan what if you would’ve gotten badly hurt ? Something i couldn’t treat ? Worse, what if y-“

You were so caught up in you rant that you failed to see the amused smile that took place on his face, failed to see the way his face got closer to yours, only realizing when his lips pressed softly against yours, shutting you up.

It took a few seconds for you to kiss him back, to realize that it was actually happening and that it wasn’t just another fantasy of yours.

He let go of your hand to hold your jaw gently, deepening the kiss.

After a while of your lips moving in sync, Taesan broke the kiss, keeping his face just far enough to look you in the eyes. A soft smile formed on his lips upon seeing the flustered look on your face— and he thanked god it was dark or else you would have seen the way his own face changed colors to a deep red.

“promise me that you’ll stop getting into fights”

“I’ll try” he teased

You gave him stern look to which he just chuckled.

“I promise. I have no reason to anymore”

You smiled at this and he leaned in to peck your lips, sealing the promise.

That night, his hand didn’t coincidentally land of your waist and the bed didn’t feel too small to fit two people anymore.

j𖤐y.

likes and reposts are appreciated !

[blitziwitchwrites]

pairing: older bf!ryomen sukuna x reader

content warnings/tags: domestic fluff, cursing/language, age gap (sukuna in his 40s and reader in her 20s), size difference, brief mention of family conflict (jin and sukuna), suggestive but no smut

author’s note: little bit of a long imagine, but i saw fanart of sukuna in glasses yesterday and then again earlier today and had to write this. happy valentine's day!

—————

imagining older boyfriend!sukuna’s eyes are wearing out with his increasing age, and he has to get glasses that he absolutely fucking hates.

“tch.”

you know that song all too well. after being with your older boyfriend, ryomen sukuna, for as long as you have, now going on living together for over a year now, that was the sound he always made whenever something was bothering him and he didn’t want to just tell you about it, rather wanting you to go on and ask him about it.

it’s late at night, and after having to wake up early and accompany your boyfriend to the eye doctor to pick out a pair of frames and order contact lenses, you were quite ready for bed. sitting beneath your warm satin covers, you glance over as your boyfriend moves over to the bed and lifts the cover, climbing in next to you, his frames still perched neatly over his eyes.

“what’s the matter, ryo?” you hum softly, leaning over to be closer to him. you lean your chin on his large biceps, as he is so ridiculously tall that you cannot even comfortably rest it on his shoulder when you are sitting next to each other, his large and muscular body half-sunken into his side of the mattress.

“flimsy pieces of plastic. shit’s ridiculous.”

“you’re seriously still beefin’ with your glasses?” you giggle, batting your eyelashes up at him, your eyes trailing over the thin black metal perched over his nose and boxing around his eyes, sliding back his cheeks and sharp jaw and tucking behind his ears.

sukuna scoffs, looking over at you, furrowing his eyebrows and letting another ‘tch’ sound click from his mouth, before he looks away from you. he clasps his fingers around the black metal piece resting on the bridge of his nose, beginning to pull the glasses from his face with a roll of his eyes. “fuck kinda language are you using brat? beefin’? fuck that even supposed to mean?”

gently, you brush your hand up, gently placing it over his large and thick fingers that are attempting to take off the glasses without breaking them- again. thank god for the warranty on the glasses, because when you two had initially picked up the frames, he hadn’t even made it out of the office yet before he looked at the frames and squeezed them just a little too hard and broke them, resulting in him having to walk into walls and struggle to drive for another three days before you two could pick up the repaired ones.

you gently push his fingers back towards his face, placing the glasses right back onto his nose. “i think they look sexy.”

sukuna furrows his eyebrows at you, minding himself to resist the natural urge to swipe your hand away from his face like he would anyone or anything else, minus his tattoo artist who’d inked his face all those years ago, long before he met you. sukuna was not used to being gentle. he’d never been a gentle man with anyone before you, and even with you, sometimes he had to mind himself because you were so much smaller and more fragile than anything he’d ever handled before. he simply turns his hand, lightly clasping it over yours, his entire hand enveloping yours as he pulls your hand away from his face. “don’t be ridiculous. they look absurd.”

“no, ryo.” you giggle, leaning up, batting your thick, soft eyelashes up at the man as he scowls down at you, your fingers gently bunching up while trapped under his own. nobody else ever referred to sukuna by his first name and lived to tell the tall, except you. nobody had ever even given him a nickname for his last name, much less his first name. “they make you look distinguished.”

“don’t patronize me, brat. there is not a thing about me that gives off what you are alluding to, so if anything, this stupid plastic just looks out of place.” sukuna responds to you, though his voice is a little gentler this time. a little softer. there’s a hint of vulnerability to his voice that nobody else but you had ever witnessed before.

you giggle, feeling his hand squeeze yours before he drops it, leaving both of your hands to rest in his lap. without warning, you shift from your side of the bed, climbing into your older boyfriend’s lap and straddling him, your knees resting on his outer thighs as you do so. instinctively, his large hands move to your waist and just gently rest there, keeping you secure so you do not fall off his lap and off the bed like you have in the past. once you are secure on his lap, you lean forward, having to let your knees sink into the mattress a bit as you move. you place your hand on his chest this time, leaning on him for stability as you pucker your lips, softly kissing the bridge of his nose between his eyes, your lips softly pressing against the frames and his sore flesh from holding them for a whole day for the first time ever.

sukuna shuts his eyes, melting into your loving gesture. his large hands squeeze your waist, his calloused fingers pressing against your back tenderly as he does so. you hold your lips for a moment there, your hand gently twitching on his chest, before you pull away, resting yourself to sit back on his lap. “i think the contrast looks nice.” you say softly up to him, your voice just above a soft whisper. sukuna opens his eyes, causing you to giggle, the frames of his glasses lightly fogged from the breath that had left your lips after your kiss. sukuna rolls his eyes, but can’t seem to retract the gentle begrudging smile that rests on his lips and the light flush of pink that brushes the tips of his ears. 

“you speak such nonsense.”

“you know i’m right,” your counter, a playful smile plastered over your face as you watch the older man, who is always so poised and kept together and cold in the presence of others practically melt from your simple words. “you look even better in them than jin does.”

sukuna’s face falters, whatever resemblance of restraint he had been using now crumbling. he looks at you, his breath hitching slightly as he looks down at you, squeezing your waist. ah, yes. the man’s younger twin brother. the golden child, you always teasingly called him. the husband, the father, the one who was always better in every way. sukuna had never gotten along with him, and after a while, stopped trying to compete and had lived his life in every way opposite to his brother, sick of the comparisons their lives had always lived. hell, sukuna hadn’t even touched a woman until you came along and were too sweet to resist, not wanting to have to face any bad husband allegations, unlike his brother who was always considered the perfect man to his wife, kaori.

even though sukuna had never intended to love another, he couldn’t ever have managed to stay away from you. and he was glad he didn’t. you were the first person in his whole life, in all of the years he carried, who never compared him or made him feel lesser. sukuna had been tempted to even tell you he was an only child, but he didn’t want to be dishonest with you, and he was glad he wasn’t when you exceeded all expectations and never once put him down in comparison of the man who carried an identical face to him, yet polar personality.

you hum softly, gently laying a kiss on sukuna’s lips. his hand slowly slides up, cupping your cheek tenderly, his other hand slowly rubbing up and down your side. you both melt into the affectionate kiss, sukuna’s shut eyes keeping him unaware of the way his glasses had significantly fogged up more from the passion of the intimate moment, until you gently pull back and look up at him as he opens his eyes.

“tch. flimsy lenses tryna keep me from lookin’ at my wife.”

your face softens, but you barely have time to register his words when he suddenly reaches up and pinches the corner of the frames, pulling them off his face… only the frames to snap! right where the arm of the glasses meets the corner, the long thin wire falling down into your laps and resting on your thigh.

“ryo!” you whine, picking up the arm, only to drop it again when your boyfriend’s hands both swiftly slide underneath your thighs and push them up after he tosses the remnants of his glasses that had been in his hands away. sukuna roughly pushes you onto your back, his hands gripping your thighs, your knees behind your head and into the mattress as he roughly kisses you. the frames become next to nothing as you quickly slide your hands up his face, locking your fingers in his hair, returning the hungry and passionate kiss as your knees bend, your legs hooking over his shoulders. your fingers remain locked in his hair, even as he suddenly bites down on your lip and then proceeds to pull away, his eyes narrowing as his nose brushes against yours, his hands gripping your thighs harder. he grunts slightly, before turning his head, beginning to slather kisses down your neck.

you two can replace them tomorrow. right now, his biggest priority was making sure he made his beloved feel just as good as she always made him feel.

��————

not proofread. please do not steal, copy, repost, and/or translate. copyright protected by blitziwitchwrites.

[alwaysless]

Fellow William analyst, greetings! I hope you are well, I hope you don't mind a question/ask.

I am curious about your thoughts on the lack of reaction we see of Will at the "one life" reveal at the dinner scene, if you haven't already shared your thoughts before! We know Annabel wasn't shocked, but what about Will?

It took me longer to answer than I thought, sorry

I'm not sure I can say anything new, but yes, it's pretty damn suspicious. The composition of the frame stylized as broken glass, makes it easy to draw Will with everyone, and a frame later we see him with other panicking students, so RnF didn't show his reaction quite intentionally.

But I also want to talk about his behavior further. In the next episode, Will doesn't behave the way you expect him to. Given his weak-willed personality, it seems like he should be scared and overwhelmed by the prospect of a survival game (like Morella for example) but he's confused at best, and moreover, confused by everyone else's reactions. He even tries to justify the deans, basically gaslighting the rest of the students.

Will is not afraid, but he does not understand why others are. I have only two possible explanations: either he knew, or he just doesn't care, just like Annabel. Or maybe both.

Maybe he has played these games before. Maybe he doesn't plan to fight for a second life (at least not in Nevermore, again just like Annabel). Maybe because he is somehow connected with the academic staff with all his doll aesthetic, there is no second life for him in general, he just works there. There are many options, but here I would prefer to focus on his parallels with Annabel - two characters whose reactions we don't see in this frame.

This is actually not the only scene where they are absent, contrary to common sense. In episode 6 we see the merit board for the first time. Most of the names on it are blurred, but some can be distinguished. Among them are Lenore, Annabel, Duke, Morella, Ada, Prospero and Will. All of them, except Annabel and Will, are present in the room at this moment.

I wouldn't have paid much attention to this scene if it weren't for Prospero. Why is he there? He doesn't speak a single line, and we haven't been introduced to him as a character yet. His presence here is useless. So maybe the idea really was for all the characters whose names were visible on the board to be in the scene(or at least have already been introduced, like Annabel).

So what about Will? My main problem with shapeshifter characters is that they can be anyone, anywhere, at any point in the story. Especially if they can also create their own copies. He could have already been introduced and we just didn't notice.

Now let's talk about the games these kids love to play so much. We know that Annabel is a talented chess player, and Montresor constantly uses card game slang. But did you know that it was William Wilson from Poe's original story who was a cardsharper? I just think it's such an interesting detail. Nevermore`s Will has never been seen like this, but considering how much of a board game aesthetic this webtoon has, I think it's important to note this.

And finally, there is a similarity that also makes them very different: both Annabel and Will have ribbons as an essential symbol, but it has a completely opposite meaning for each of them. For Annabel, the ribbons are a symbol of madness, fear, and perhaps her golden cage. It appears in her hallucinations after Lenore's fake death, as well as when Ada shows her her main fear.

Will, on the other hand? The ribbons are his weapon. He uses them to tangle other people. Curious, although his spectre is obviously a marionette, he doesn't have a control bar for strings, he controls the strings himself (not always successful but still).

No matter how weak-willed Will is, he's the only one in Annabel's group who isn't influenced by her. She blackmails Montresor, Prospero respects her as a leader and friend, Ada admires and envies her. But she doesn't have anything on Will. In the chess allegory, he will obviously be a pawn (and I`ll write a whole post about it, I swear), but not Annabel's pawn. I have an idea that sooner or later, Montresor will think of using Will to find dirt on Annabel in revenge. After all, given their spectre abilities, it's easier for them to find out lenabel's secret.

So, let's summarize what we found. Absolutely nothing. This post turned out to be longer than I had planned, because I was a little carried away, but I hope you found something interesting for yourself in this stream of thoughts.

Here, take funny little Will everyone. He deserves to be noticed.

[v4mpire45]

You promised you'd be mine — K. Bakugo

♫︎ Slightly inspired by "The other woman" by Lana Del Rey.

Bakugo x female reader

Synopsis: No matter how hard he tries, he can't erase the memories of the future he once dreamed of with you.

⚠ Trigger warning: Emotional cheating.

Author's note: Please, don't get with, let alone marry anyone when you're still not over your ex.

Is it Valentines Day? Yes. Am I writing something sad? Also yes.

"I’ll be yours forever."

"You promise?"

"Pinkie promise."

But life has a cruel sense of humor, doesn’t it?

Your relationship with Bakugo was everything while it lasted, intense, passionate, unbreakable. Or so you both thought. He never imagined a world where you weren’t his. He had it all mapped out: the two of you going pro together, getting married a year or two later, honeymooning in the Bahamas, and eventually settling down with kids.

But the universe had other plans.

The first cracks were small, disagreements, unspoken frustrations, words left unsaid. Then came the storms, relentless and unforgiving. You both needed things neither of you knew how to ask for. And slowly, inevitably, you drifted apart.

Then the war happened.

Katsuki died. You nearly lost your quirk. And when the dust settled, you both stood on opposite ends of a battlefield, changed beyond recognition. Whatever tether held you together had snapped. Being together wasn’t an option anymore, not when the people you once were had been lost to the war.

But dying had given Katsuki clarity.

In those final moments, when his heart had stopped and everything faded to black, the only regret he had was leaving you behind. The thought of never seeing you again, never living out the future he had dreamed of with you, shattered him more than death itself.

So when he came back, he was determined to fix things. To say everything he hadn’t before. To fight for you.

But he was too late.

You were leaving for America, offered a position too good to refuse. And you took it. There was nothing left for you in Japan. Everyone supported your decision.

Even him.

You left… for eleven damn years.

And Bakugo waited. He really did. But he wasn’t the type to sit around and drown in what-ifs. Life moved forward, and so did he.

He found someone. Someone who loved him deeply, who saw him for who he was, who made him feel whole, at least, that’s what he told himself. She was kind, humble, brilliant. A good woman. A good wife.

But she wasn’t you.

And no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he told himself this could work, it didn’t. Not when he caught himself picturing your face instead of hers. Not when he almost called her by your name.

She wanted to honeymoon in the Bahamas, but he refused, saying it wasn’t a good idea. The truth was, he knew he’d spend the entire trip pretending it was you beside him instead. Maybe she suspected it. Maybe she knew.

Bakugo sat up in bed, the early morning sun casting a soft glow over his wife’s sleeping face. He ran a hand through her hair, guilt gnawing at the edges of his resolve.

She didn’t deserve this.

That’s why, when she woke up, he’d be serving her papers. He’d give her everything, every penny, every asset, anything she wanted. Though, knowing her, she wouldn’t take a damn thing.

A pair of warm arms wrapped around his neck from behind. She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, her body curling into his back.

"Morning, Katsuki."

"Morning." His voice came out quieter than he intended.

He pulled away.

"I need to get ready for work."

He left her in bed, cold and alone.

As he stepped into the shower, he heard it, soft, muffled sniffles coming from the other room.

And he felt like the worst kind of bastard.

But he knew she knew.

This was never going to work.

© 2025 v4mpire45 — All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Slash x reader where reader is like depressed and shit and no one notices but him

A/n: Kind of not the same thing you wrote but Slash with depressed reader

Warnings: Depression, Slash yelling (if you can picture that, man is soft), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

"Open the fucking door!" Slash yelled, banging on the front door to your apartment. An older woman who lived by you gave him an odd look as she passed but he couldn't care less. "Answer the fucking door! I know you're in there!"

He'd seen it all happen, it took him too long to realize and he hated himself for it but it didn't matter right now, all that mattered was that you were safe. Of course, he couldn't see you through the door.

You were distancing yourself from him, turning down his invitations to dinner whether it was a restaurant or just ordering pizza. He never found you already in bed when he came home, in fact he found your key he'd given you in the kitchen.

You smiled when you were with him but he'd catch you staring out the window. If you were in bed with him you were on your side and scrolling through your phone.

Slash took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. His yelling was probably scaring you, he never yelled at anyone, let alone at you. He never raised his voice and he didn't bang on doors. Not just because he knew how much bigger he was than you, he just wasn't a violent person.

It didn't stop the doors latch from snapping off when he hit the thing again, making it swing open. He made a quick mental note to pay for it before looking further into your apartment.

There was garbage everywhere, you hadn't cleaned in weeks and you hadn't left your house in days. That's what finally tipped him off, he realized he hadn't heard more than a few texts from you 'good morning' 'goodnight' 'I love you'.

He looked to the kitchen and found you slumped against the fridge. Panic filled him and he raced over to you, kneeling next to you and looking you over. He had no training in anything, he had no idea what he was doing or what he was looking for.

He kept repeating your name and pleading for you to say something, anything while he desperately searched for your pulse. He at least knew where your pulse points were but he wasn't sure what good was supposed to feel like so he kept feeling his own heartbeat, of course he kept getting a shock from his pacemaker.

"Say something." He muttered, turning your head to him. "Anything?" He waited another moment before he picked you up and set you on the counter, unintentionally banging your head on the cupboard above. "Say something, for the love of god!" He yelled, holding you by the shoulders.

You blinked, staring at him blankly. "Why are you here?" You asked, voice raspy and weak.

His hold on you tightened. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He gave you a shake. "Because I fucking love you and you're in here looking half fucking dead, what the hell happened?!"

Tears pricked your eyes, no words formed for you to say. You wanted to apologize, to tell him you were going to try better, to fix yourself. Instead you just leaned forward and fell into him.

He couldn't very well push you off so he wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I'll get this place fixed, alright?"

You shook your head. "I-I'll do it, it's my mess."

"No." He stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. "You're going back home with me, and you're going to stay there because you need someone, you don't get to just fuck off anymore." He pulled you off the counter and carried you out of the apartment.

"The door." You mumbled, looking back at it as it swung sadly.

"No one's going in there, they'll take one look and know nothings worth stealing." He explained. He spoke again before you could say anything. "No one's going to assume you have someone to buy you nice shit, they'll see the place is trashed and figure someone got to it first."

You had to believe him, he used to be a thief so it's not like he was pulling shit out his ass. You also had no energy to fight him, no will to.

He carried you out to his car and buckled you in, kissing your forehead before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.

While he drove he made a few calls, cleaning services and someone to fix your door, he was getting you your damage deposit back while hinting to you that you were moving in with him.

He wasn't actually going to make you do anything, he walked you right to his room. He had his arm around you but he wanted you to walk.

Slash stopped you from going to the bed and led you to the bathroom instead. "Bath or shower?" He asked.

"Sleep." You mumbled.

"That's not an option right now, bath or shower?" He repeated, hands resting on your hips. "A bath would be warm, smelling salts and all that shit... but a shower would be quick, so pick."

You thought for a long moment, leaning on him because it was easier than forcing yourself to stand. "You'll be in there with me..?" He nodded without hesitation. "Bath..."

He let you slump back on the tiled floor while he went to get you some clothes to change into, a shirt of his and some old shorts, he wasn't sure where they came from but he figured they'd fit you.

The bath was just what you needed. It relaxed your muscles and you melted into Slash. He even placed a facecloth over your eyes so didn't have to look at yourself. He wasn't making you do anything for a while, he'd encourage you and make sure you took care of yourself, but he understood depression to an extent.

You'd sleep with him, he'd say nothing but sweet things to you, he'd make sure you left the bedroom at least once a day even if it was just to move to the couch.

After a week he started waking you up so you could make breakfast together. He set up a chair and move it around for you so you didn't have to worry about standing.

Daily walks, weekly baths that soon turned to every other day, same went for brushing your teeth. This wasn't going away any time soon, he knew that much, but that didn't mean he was just going to sit back and watch you dissolve.

[indigosunsetao3]

Happy Valentine's Day, John Price

Valentine's Day Story Single Dad John Price x Reader Reader is female

Happy Valentine's Day!💙

Christmas | New Year's | Valentine's Day

Six weeks of dating John.

A whirlwind, really, considering it started because he needed help with his daughter to keep the Christmas magic alive. As a thank you, he brought you on probably the most over the top date of your life on New Year's. And now it's Valentine's Day, and you have no idea what to expect.

This time, though, John is away for work. He's been gone for about four days, and he doesn't expect to be back for another few. Yet even when he's away, he still makes time for you. Texting when he can, calling whenever it's safe. You still don't know exactly what he does for a living, though you know it's dangerous and top secret. If you didn't already know him from living across the hall all this time, the 'secret agent' act would have made you run the other way.

Slipping on your jacket, you scoop up your bag and head for the door. It's just another Friday for you, and while love is certainly in the air, your boss is still expecting you to keep chipping away at the project you've been doing. He doesn't much care that you've spent many of your nights up late talking to your boyfriend or that the office is going to be full of busybodies seeing who received flowers and gifts.

When you turn to lock your door, a flash of red catches your eye, and you look up. You thought you had pulled down the cute little Valentine's Day flyer your apartment put on all the doors the day before. But it's not a flyer. Tucked in your crooked welcome sign is a single rose, the stem in a small pipet to keep it watered.

Grinning, you tug it out of the O and flip over the small tag tied to it. All that's inscribed is From John in his chicken scratch writing. Turning your heel, expecting him to be standing there, you don't see anything. There's no indication he's home. Perhaps he asked one of the neighbors to deliver to you.

With a quick snap from your phone, you send John an image of the rose with a thank you. You know he's sleeping; wherever he is it's hours behind you, so you don't expect a response for a while. There isn't time to run the flower back inside and dig out a vase so you opt to take it with you. But perhaps it's a good thing you didn't waste your time doing that because when you get to your car, you find another rose tucked under the wipers. Same tag, same note.

Two flowers in hand, you make it to your desk, intending to go find a cup in the breakroom, when you see a vase with another rose. But this time, there is an envelope propped on the glass with your name scribbled on it. You deposit the two flowers in with the third and take a seat, tearing open the letter and doing your best not to grin too big.

Sorry I couldn't be there today. Just know I'm thinking of you, and I'll make it up to you when I get back. You have some very helpful coworkers and friends, but I won't give up my insiders in case I need their help again.

Enjoy your half day at work, dinner, and massage. Stop stressing about the project and take today to relax.

-John

You look up quickly to see if anyone is watching you and give themselves up as John's insider. But no one even glances your way. Going back to the letter, you read it over again, trying to decipher the meaning behind a massage and dinner. And especially the half day remark. You hadn't put in for time off.

As you wait for your computer to boot up, you send him another text message with your gifts, thanking him again. You don't want to send too many and wake him, but now you're dying to know just how he did all of this and what his letter means.

But the answers are waiting for you in your email. First is a response that your time off request, which you did not make, was approved for one that day. The second is the appointment confirmation for your massage at a luxury spa and a questionnaire about what type of mask you prefer. Then the third is the meal delivery itemization receipt sent from John, with the prices all redacted.

It's overwhelming, in a good way, as you sit back in your chair and absorb everything. You're dying to talk to John, but know that may not even happen today. There were some days you weren't even able to text at all, let alone talk on the phone.

Around eleven, another delivery driver walks in; the office door is just a revolving one with all the things being sent to your coworkers. It's a rather large box of cookies, and you watch from your cubicle to see where the receptionist is taking them, only for them to stop at your desk. Another rose is taped to the top of the box, and a sticker note states this for you to share with your coworkers as a thanks from John.

Before you even leave the cookies have been demolished. You're fairly certain you know at least two of John's helpers, but when you get to your car, you stop short. Rose number five is resting on your side mirror. Who had time to sneak out today when you were watching everyone so closely?

After doing the mental math, you text John again and know he should be awake by now. He doesn't answer, and you sigh a bit as you slip your phone into do not disturb and head in for your massage. Another rose is waiting for you in a vase in the room before the therapist walks in to start your session.

How many have you found? Six. How many are there? Isn't the standard bouquet a dozen? John! How many people have you roped into this? Enough Pretty sure leaving them in the postboxes is illegal. I'm up to 8 now between yours and mine. Only if you get caught

You laugh to yourself as you walk down the hallway to your apartment. Yet another rose is waiting on your door, and as you let yourself into John's place to drop his mail on the dining room table, you find another. He must have roped the landlord into this because, as far as you knew, the only other person with a key to John's place besides you and John was his ex-wife. And she certainly would not be leaving roses for her ex-husband's new girlfriend. At least you don't think.

Dinner is set to arrive in about two hours, so you take the time to continue to relax. A nice self pedicure, a bottle of wine, and a movie seem like the best options to pass the time. John has gone silent again but said he'd try to text you later that evening. Calling was not an option wherever he was.

Despite him not being there, it certainly felt like he was. He had gone through a lot of planning for this holiday, and it was sweet. Even outside of all the gifts, just the fact he took the time to do it makes your stomach flutter just thinking about it.

I've only found eleven. Are you sure? Positive. I'm looking at them in the vase. There were twelve. Maybe someone forgot? Doesn't matter, they're all wonderful and everything today was way more than I needed. Give me a few minutes and I'll find that missing rose. You don't have to! It's late, it's fine really.

You swirl your wine glass, staring at your phone and waiting for John to answer. Cookies, a half day at work, massage, dinner, and eleven roses were more than enough for you. It almost made you feel guilty for not getting him anything, aside from the letter you had written him and left with his mail. He had insisted on you not doing anything, he wouldn't be home anyway. That you would just go to dinner when he was back or anything else you wanted.

I found it. Who forgot? Nice try, I'm not giving up my helpers. Just sent them up to leave it at your door. That was quick. I didn't even hear them. Go get it and send me a picture of the finished bouquet before you go to bed.  One second.

Uncurling from the couch, you stretch and head for the door, preparing to just crack it open enough to get the flower. It's late, and while you never felt unsafe at your apartment, you were still home alone. Flipping the locks, you crack open the door and peer out, anticipating an empty hallway, only to be startled by someone standing there.

"Oh, you scared the life-" you start, your brain not catching up from your scare to realize who has just scared you. You blink once, twice, then pull the door open wider.

John is standing there. Still in his military fatigues, duffle bag in one hand and your final rose in the other. He grins, looking down at you as you attempt to smooth out your silk pajama shirt. You had not expected any sort of company, let alone John.

"How did you?" You start as he holds out the last flower to you. His eyes are crinkled from his grin, but you can see exhaustion lining them. He had to have been traveling almost all day, maybe since the night before. And you knew whatever he was doing, sleep was far and in between.

"John, you should have told me you'd be home!" You half heartedly admonish as you step into his embrace to hug him.

"And ruin the surprise?" He asks, kissing the top of your head. "I know it's late, and you probably want to head to bed," he starts, but you grip him a little tighter as if afraid he'd step back. "If you knew where I have been today I don't think you'd want to touch me," he jokes as you lean back and cup his face.

"I don't care," you reply and lean up to kiss him properly. "You don't get to give me this wonderful day and then sneak home to surprise me just to run off again."

"I thought about showering first, but it's almost midnight," he pauses to glance at his watch; it's quarter til. "And then I would have truly missed Valentine's Day," he explains as you push back his hat to see him better.

"Well, we can't have that," you tease as you tug him into your apartment. "How fast can you shower?"

"Depends. Five minutes if I'm in a rush," John answers as he drops his duffle and quietly clicks your door shut behind him.

"Good thing we aren't in a rush because I need at least ten," you answer, feeling a warmth creeping up your neck at your boldness.

"In that case, let's take our time and make it twenty," he counters as he scoops you up easily and catches your lips with a heart stopping kiss.

"Happy Valentine's day," you barely whisper against his mouth as he winds his way back toward your bathroom while he carries you.

"Happy Valentine's day, sweetheart."

—————————-

Tag request: @misscherry-26

[hanibalistic]

I WISH YOU WERE NICER TO ME | BANG CHAN.

genre | minor fluff and angst / platonic au

synopsis | a con man and a computer addict make quite the freelance dream team.

word count | 6.1k+

warning | violence, drink spiking, smoking, alcohol / minor sexual themes, reader is mentioned to have small breasts / no attraction age gap (20!reader & 38!chan) / use of the nickname 'sweetheart' / mentions of dementia, criminal activities

note | chan's character seems tall because the oc version is 182cm. i will likely delete this here once i get the commission art back and switch the names out.

Chan waited until the nursing home was out of earshot to release your wrist. 

He yanked you forward and spun you around to face him. 

His eyes were red, like an uncured hangover, but a red eye has so many causes that you'd rather not narrow it so quickly. For all you knew, he could have been crying, if that was possible for a man like him.

You glanced at his accusing finger before returning your attention to his face. His hair was disheveled, and his face was bare, one less common than the other. He wore a suit, although the buttons barely clasped correctly, and his tie was loose.

He was unprepared enough for you to deduce that the phone call you asked the receptionist at the nursing home to give him was his alarm, and he woke up somewhere other than his home.

He rushed over. He must love his mother.

You knew he did. That's why you paid her a visit at the nursing home. You were curious about truths that would prove him a safe enough partner in crime, and the nursing home hadn't been a good sign when you first found out about it.

A man who cares so much about his mother wouldn't dump her in a nursing home, but a man who doesn't care wouldn't put her in one of the nation's most expensive senior care facilities either. 

There must be a bridge, or many bridges burned somewhere that required this level of security.

You needed to know what bridges they were. His mother wouldn't be the ideal candidate to seek that information from, considering her dementia. Still, you figured you could make a point showing up at a place he never told anyone about.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, his words barely punching through his gritted teeth and clenched jaw. 

"To visit your mom," you replied. "We were having a decent conversation until you barged in and demanded that I leave."

"No–no. No." He closed his eyes and brought his clenched fist to them. His chest heaved up and down as he took a deep, readying breath, and then he relaxed and turned back to you. He licked his bottom lip to rid his mouth of dryness. When his tongue retreated inside, it pulled his lips into a smirk. "I meant what are you doing here?"

"Why did you put your mom here?" you asked. "Why didn't you hire a caretaker and keep her at home?"

His lip twitched. "You can't figure that out on your own?"

"I can make a deduction, but until you tell me the truth, it will remain an educated guess," you said. "Since you are already here, I figured you'd be a good samaritan and tell me the truth."

"How does that information help you?" Chan asked. "You can't possibly use that to screw me over."

"I know where your mom lives. What do you think?"

"You little shit–" he grabbed your shirt collar and yanked you toward him, breathing down your face–"I swear to God if you try anything."

You stared at him. 

He wondered if your indifference to violence was a byproduct of abuse. But he didn't think you've ever looked at him or anything else any other way. Those bland eyes could cross the galaxy and crash onto Earth like a meteorite without making the news. So he thought you must be some version of a sociopath to never feel or express anything.

It wasn't enjoyable to meet someone he couldn't easily read for once, and it wasn't so much an ego destruction but rather discomfort.

Being able to read the room and the mood was what kept him alive. You wouldn't kill him yourself, but you could get other people to do it. A proxy, a hand, a conscience. That's what he was to you, too. Someone to do something.

"If you don't give me a reason to, I won't," you said. "Now, let me go before I scream assault."

Looking around the area, nobody was walking around at this time, but houses were everywhere inside this gated community. If you scream loud enough, some big-headed vice president might come running to your rescue.

He dropped you and wiped his hand on his pants. You pushed your glasses and adjusted them further by scrunching your nose, watching quietly as he struggled with his thoughts.

"What do you want?" he asked.

The nature of his job, or whatever businesses he dips his full weight in, forced him to impermanence.

He switches his phone number periodically, at unpredictable times, and always has more than three numbers under his belt. 

You could access the contacts and messages in the phones he currently owns but not the disabled numbers, so you were here to ask about that.

"Jesus, that's it?" 

He rubbed his eyes and stepped aside to lean his weight against the brick wall next to you. Reaching into his blazer, he pulled out a cigarette pack and crumbled it up after taking the last one out. He dumped it on the floor, and you watched it roll off the slope.

Your nose itched when he blew the first buff. You figured he was a chain smoker. He always smelt like a gross mix of smoke and perfume. 

Through the smoke and squinted eyes, you found his exhausted features. "I didn't think you smoked cigarettes."

He chuckled through his nose. "This will blow your mind. I drink, too."

"An alcoholic?"

"Not enough."

"Then who cares." You shrugged. "I thought you would be more of a cigar person."

"They're the same. One just has a better packaging and reputation," he said. "But yes, I am more of a cigar person."

"I'm learning a lot today."

"Yeah, well." He cleared his throat. "I don't usually talk to my clients this much. Most of them don't show up at my mother's nursing home."

"Most of them think you're an orphan," you pointed out. "You do a good job fabricating your past, but I suppose it'll be a hassle to get a gated community to welcome an outsider without credible wealth and even harder to get a multinational bank to cover your tracks."

He furrowed his brows. "You looked into my bank accounts?" 

"Just the statements."

"That's basically everything," he said.

"Hmm." Your hum was a disagreement, and you tilted your head. "Not really.”

You knew he manages four bank accounts, two of them being savings accounts with a questionable difference in amount, one of them being a regular checking account, and the last one was an account dedicated to his mother's medicine and life expenses.

He has two credit cards and uses them regularly—based on deals and percentages. Other transactions are done through bills to leave no records.

"That's more than the statements!" he exclaimed.

You hummed again; this time, it was in thoughts, and then you nodded. "I suppose."

He took a drag of the cigarette and sighed. 

He knew a minor scope of your capabilities based on the jobs you've paid him to do previously. Intel collection and anonymity were your specialty. It didn't make much difference that you decided to meet him in public, considering he has no records of what you have done nor the evidence to prove it.

It didn't make much sense for you to have the kind of money you do, but he was a man of no questions. He never asked about the businesses you dabble in or how you do what you do. As long as the envelope is thick, frankly, you could be a mass murderer, and he wouldn't care.

This discovery of you loitering around his financial secrets was only a decent surprise. You did it all on your own, too.

"You didn't need to come all the way here to find out who I worked with," he said. "You could have just asked me."

"I wasn't here only for you. I also came here to meet your mother," you said after nudging your head toward the nursing home. Ignoring his eye roll, you returned to the subject at hand. "Anyway, I didn't think you'll give away information just like that."

"You're right. I will lie to you," he said. "But there is always some truth in a lie. That's what makes them credible enough to be believed in. The rest is up for you to figure out."

You raised your brows at the mention of unnecessary hoops you must go through for some basic information. It wasn't as if you could do anything with them. Knowing whoever he ended on bad terms with wouldn't benefit you now, considering you have no alternative to his role in your operations.

You only wanted to know to take precautions or build a silent network. Whatever was suitable for your cause.

"You can give it to me straight," you suggested. "Cut to the chase."

"I can't think of one person working in this business who would do that." He laughed before peering at you. "Even you lie."

"I try not to," you said, not to defend yourself but to tell the truth.

"You should start getting comfortable with it," he said.

"I'll try my best."

"Mmhm." Pushing himself off the wall, he dropped the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it, cutting off its air as smoke released from his mouth.

You looked up at him once he neared, and you watched each other in a moment of dull silence before he reached a hand up to place it on your head. 

He didn't move, awkwardly keeping his hand in place as his body reminded him that he never knew how to be gentle with someone else, and it took over the wrongful instinct.

"You do whatever you have to do," he said. "As will I."

You blinked, glanced down in thoughts, then back up at him. Your movements were precise and observable, sometimes resembling a robot. 

Chan never knew people's facial features could move this way. It was mildly eerie, with the middle of the scale being a generosity granted thanks to your pretty face and young age. If you had been ugly and old, you would just be eerie.

"I already do whatever I have to," you said.

He shifted his weight and tried to feel for the cigarette under his feet. 

"That's great, sweetheart."

He shouldn't have thrown the cigarette away. 

You have never seen Chan in a simple shirt and sweatpants before. 

The existence of a dull attire propelled you to believe that he had a life outside of being a con man, which he must have, but you suspected that it was a seventy-dollar t-shirt and not an off-brand top.

You asked him to dress normally for today’s meeting, and he met the goal a little too perfectly. Even the foundation and minor contour were gone from his face, and his lips were more chapped than usual. 

"You look like you can be my neighbor," you commented.

“You live in a hellhole. Your apartment is four hundred square feet,” he said. “I would never.”

"You used to live in an apartment of that size," you said. "Back when you were still a child."

He rolled his eyes. "What else do you know about me?" 

"Nothing more than what I told you last time," you said. "Your mother mentioned an apartment estate. I assumed that was where you grew up."

He ignored you, but you were correct. He did grow up in a hellhole. The roof leaked whenever it stormed, the fuse sometimes blew if they turned on two electrical appliances simultaneously, and the walls were thin. 

At least the sex noises were arousing for him as a teenage boy, but the marital arguments and children screaming were the worst.

The environment was made somewhere tolerable by his mother being there. He loves her even though she has been callous, stressed, and overworked since his father’s dramatic departure. 

Chan never understood why his father had to be so dramatic about his romantic feelings. That man should have lied about falling out of love and cheating instead of actively pursuing a more desired life. 

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"I have a job offer," you replied curtly before stopping him by tapping his arm.

A cold breeze brushed over his skin when you opened the locker. Several bags of frozen food landed in the shopping cart under his hands. He looked down and grimaced. 

The variety of your meal choices was mind-boggling—orange chicken, sweet and sour chicken, teriyaki chicken, and General Tso chicken. The whole coop. The last time he was in your apartment, he saw unfinished cup noodles and opened bags of cream cakes that should be refrigerated if not consumed.

You were intellectually well put together, but good heavens, you live like a toddler spoiled by a disastrous uncle.

"This isn't healthy," he commented as he began pushing the cart to follow you.

"I know," you said. 

"You have money. Why don't you order takeout from restaurants?" 

You pursed your lips in thought.

It was convenient, you liked to think. They were effort with a reasonable portion and were easy to consume with something else because they take up such little space. A full meal wouldn’t fit on your desk, and they’d require more attention to eat, so you would miss out on what was happening on the screen.

You were also making up for eighteen years worth of a strict diet your controlling mother imposed on you. It has been two years since you were free from the horrendously stale meals, and you did it by forcing your parents to cut contact by disappearing.

They never looked for you. Last time you checked, they had a newborn child.

Theoretically, you feared for that replacement, but you have never feared for anyone but yourself. You weren't sure if you could.

"I wonder why," you replied with a solemn tap to your chin, mimicking a thinking motion without forcing your face to move an inch. You then pointed down the aisle. "Hey, you might want to close your eyes when we get to the chips section."

Chan scoffed as he leaned his forearms against the cart handle. "Fine, don't tell me."

"I wasn't planning to." 

He rolled his eyes. "What is the job?" 

"A dirty cop," you said, reaching an arm up for a bag of chips on the top shelf. "Or, more accurately, his son."

"You don't mean to ask me to make conversations with a cop, do you?" He whistled softly as he went over your head to grab it for you. He grimaced at the packaging but threw it in the cart anyway. "Horrible flavor."

“It’s sour cream and onion. It’s a widely accepted flavor,” you retorted, focusing entirely on the row of crackers. “Also, I don’t need you to talk to him. I’ll do that. I just need an entrance pass to a club you frequent.”

"Which one?"

"The Inferno Lounge."

"There's a cop in there?"

“Multiple, but they don’t care,” you said. “They don’t record their reservations online; their guest lists are handwritten. I couldn’t change anything if I tried, so I need you to help me sneak inside.”

While the guest list was logged physically, the nightclub would upload its expenses and customers online at the end of the day. You spent several nights scrolling through the lists with chip crumbs at your fingertips, checking out anyone worthy of your interest.

Against your assumptions, most law enforcement officers who frequented the nightclub were old and experienced. Alcohol and private rooms were boldly (or carelessly) purchased with credit cards. As for drugs, even if they wanted to, you doubted the provider took smart payment.

When you passed the candy section, you picked up a cherry lollipop and unwrapped it, popping it in your mouth. You kept the wrapper in your jacket pocket, saving it for the register later.

Chan sucked on his front teeth, his lips jutted out in thoughts. 

You didn’t suggest letting him bring you as a plus one because that would create an association. If one of you gets in trouble, the other will get involved indirectly. It was good to take that precaution.

Turning his head to eye you up and down, he asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty."

“Tell them you just turned twenty-one, and this is your first night out drinking. For good measure, ask them where the bar is, he said with a snap of his fingers. “They’ll let you in just like that. You don’t even need me there.”

"Dress skimpy but casual," he added with a chuckle. "Kind of like how you are now."

You glanced at your feet. You buy all your clothes based on comfort. The ideal items could be worn outside and to sleep, so you wouldn’t have to change.

"So, pajamas."

"Yeah." He nodded. "What do you plan to do?"

"Find the guy and take his phone," you said. "I just need to transfer some data."

"You don't need me for that," he pointed out.

"I don't," you said.

"Right." He smacked his lips softly. "Again, this could have been a text."

"It could have, but I wanted to ask you something," you said after pushing the lollipop to the side of your mouth. You shoved your hands in your pockets and turned to face him fully. "Your mom said something about a clinical trial the other day. What is that?"

He pursed his lips and felt them twitch upward into a smirk. He didn’t think about it too much at first, but a nurse at the senior home put him up to it. 

With the help of a selected group of patients, a famous brain surgeon at a metropolitan hospital was trying to find a way around a nearly impossible disease. He didn’t care too much about the cure, but rather, he’d like his mother monitored and checked on periodically, so he took her to the screening test.

She wasn't selected. He wasn't too upset about that.

Lowering his head, he ruffled his hair and stood up, sniffing, shaking the jitters out of his body. “It’s no big deal.”

 “It’s for her dementia.” You peered at him, biting on the hard candy. “I didn’t know they were doing research on the disease.”

"It doesn't concern you," he said. 

You wiggled your nose to rid of the oily glasses. You were biting down just a stick now, and you played with it using your teeth. "Fine, don't tell me."

You'll find out on your own.

The rest of the shopping trip was silent. Chan did not excuse himself and continued to walk the shopping cart around the store as you pushed more unhealthy food into the basket. He went ahead when you were at the cash register to buy a packet of cigarettes at the corner area. You waited for him by the automatic doors, stepping close to trigger its sensor whenever it closed, and walked out when you noticed he was paying.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, stuffing his thin wallet inside his pocket. 

“I hope so,” you replied. “I’ll probably live.”

“It’s a nightclub. When it comes to people your age, they don’t tend to kill you,” he said. “They do something else.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. Reaching into your shorts pocket, you took out another lollipop and unwrapped it, popping it into your mouth. Chan furrowed his brows when you pulled it past your lips and a soft pop. He was sure you stole that.

“Why don’t you old folks sleep with people your age?” you asked.

He noticed your tongue was red. He scratched the back of his ear with a grimace. “Is that a genuine question?” 

“All my questions are genuine.” 

“Then I don’t know,” he replied. “Haven’t had any trouble with women my age.”

“Yet.” You glanced at his appalled expression as you pushed yourself off the wall. 

Approaching him with a waving lollipop, you brought it up to his face and pressed it past his lips. He parted his mouth to welcome the sweet cherry taste, his teeth clamping down on the stick to keep it from sliding out. 

“Try this for a change,” you said. “It’s better than smoke.”

He hummed. He didn’t think so.

Your drink was spiked. It wasn't a surprise. Why else would they let a nobody inside an esteemed nightclub if not to take advantage of them?

The man who put the pill inside your drink did a horrible job of hiding it, or you were more perceptive. The dimmed atmosphere, loud music, and flashy disco lights would have made it impossible for anyone else to notice, but you did, almost too clearly.

However, holding onto the intention of not bringing attention to yourself, when the man questioned why you weren't drinking from the glass, you took a sip to get him off your back.

None of your observation skills mattered because you put yourself in the same position as those who would fall victim to such tricks.

If anything, you were in far worse shape.

Since the man continued to chase you down, which hindered your task to find the dirty cop, you talked him down over the loud music. The last you heard of him was a string of cuss words as his friends held him back from making an even bigger scene.

That alerted people of your presence, but you managed to fade into the background again until you finally came across your target.

You realized how terrible you were at pickpocketing. Even the drunk air couldn’t save you from being a suspect in thievery. 

You quickly became the center of attention again, except this time, it was to be arrested and not to sleep with. Or perhaps it'd be both. You never know at places like this.

The thirty minutes (for the drug to kick in) counted down while you stumbled around corners and through hallways. You suspected you were walking deeper into the nightclub rather than out of it, but at least the confusing layout must be as disadvantageous to you as it was to your pursuers.

"There they are!"

"Shit," you muttered and picked up your pace.

The hallways looked identical. They were decorated with a dark color scheme and stained with sensual lights flashing through tiny door windows. Bad vocals, cheers, chair creaks, and screechy moans all sounded like forks on a plate. 

Looking behind your shoulder when you heard rapid footsteps approaching, you turned back to face a dead end a few rooms ahead of you. If you turned back, you would only be met with your demise, so it has to be one of the few rooms present. You have to choose. Choose quickly.

"Aggressive much–" Chan paused. His eyes widened when he saw you. "It's you."

You clenched your fist and released the tension. Immediately, you reached for the switch by the door and dimmed the ceiling lights. Ignoring Chan’s confused questions, you brought the gadgets from your jacket before taking it off and throwing it aside. The next fabric to go was your tank, and you threw that somewhere on the table instead of the floor.

"Woah–slow down?" He laughed when you shoved him onto the couch and got on top of him, your legs straddling his thighs and your hands gripping his shoulders. He instinctively held onto your waist, his big hands warm against your skin. "Jesus, sweetheart. Are you into me?"

"Help me," you said quietly. "They're looking for me."

He raised a brow. The initial shock died down gradually, and he checked his surroundings. 

Two phones were lodged where your bottoms met; yours and the cop's, he suspected. Your skin was cold as ice, and goosebumps lined up your shivering arms, which he wondered if it was from the cold or fear. Looking higher up where your nipples perked, he realized he never noticed your chest was so flat.

Behind your shoulder was the hallway light. Chan barely had the chance to hear the commotion before the door bursts open. He didn’t need an explanation to piece the problem together. There wasn’t much that could happen in a nightclub besides the usual.

You squeezed your eyes shut and his shoulders tighter. Just as you were about to lean forward, hoping to hide your face somewhere in the crook of his neck, he slid his hands up your side and pressed his thumbs against the side of your breasts, pushing them together. 

Your back straightened into a soft arch, and a surprised gasp broke out of your lips. Chan peeked over your head at the intruder, one brow raised and his smirk almost condescending. “Are you staying for the show or?” 

Flabbergasted, the man apologized and slammed the door. You didn’t say anything at the sound of the door clicking shut. Instead, you picked up the phone and attached one end of the black cable to it. You grabbed the other phone, the one with a dirty screen, and attempted the same thing. 

Chan watched you miss the charging port several times before he took them from you, getting it right on the first try.

You turned his hand to show yourself the screen and tapped on it, your barely opened eyes darting around, trying to read the tiny words on each pop-up. 

"You're here," you mumbled. 

"I am." He shrugged. "I frequent this place."

"Pervert." He didn’t say anything back.

Your chest heaved with difficulty, and you were clumsier than usual. Chan tried to catch your eyes, but you were too focused on the task. Once he noticed a significant difference in your behavior, he touched your forehead with the back of his palm.

"Lightweight?" he asked.

You grumbled, "Drugged."

His hand dropped from your forehead, and he chuckled. “Tough luck.”

Once the phone showed that the transferring process had started, you sighed and dropped it on the side. You felt horrible, and trying to make sense of your bodily reaction made you feel even worse. Your brain was fighting too hard with your body just trying to relax.

"You're shaking a little," Chan pointed out. "It can't be the drug. It's supposed to relax you.” He poked your abdomen. “You’re not cold either.” 

You glared at him through your lashes. The ringing in your ears grew louder the more you fought the drowsiness. He watched you nonchalantly, without a smile or a frown. This wasn't too amusing to him, you supposed. He hasn't pushed you off either. If anything, he kept steadying you by the waist whenever you dozed off.

You couldn’t sleep before when you were on your feet, still running from the cops. But now that Chan was here, you figured you could take a breather. 

“I panicked," you said. “I feel fear.”

"That's alarming," he said. "You don't seem to feel anything at all."

You lowered your head, blackness fading in and out of your eyes. "Contrary to your belief, I'm not some sociopath without feelings."

"Lots of talking for someone so sleepy," he mused slowly, squeezing your cheek before he reached inside his coat pocket. 

He pulled out an old wooden box and opened it with a faint squeak. Inside were three cigar sticks. He took one out and carefully placed the box next to his leg on the couch. You watched with mild curiosity as he lit up the end of it before putting it between his lips, taking a long drag.

"Have you tried smoking before?” he asked. “This should help you calm down.”

You grimaced and shook your head. He smiled; somehow, this fact was amusing. Tipping your head up gently, with his fingers wrapped over your chin and jaw, he muttered for you to take a huff after he brought the cigar to your face. 

You sniffed, trapped on top of him, and lacked the inhibition to reject the suggestion, parted your lips for him to put the tip in. You inhaled, feeling the hotness spread over your mouth.

He released your face to let you exhale, his fingers grazing a line down your bare chest to your belly. You shivered at the feeling, puffs of smoke coming out in shock, and he recalled the way you reacted when he barely touched your breasts. 

Either you were correct that you do feel emotions, or your feelings were limited to how you biologically react to physical touch.

He has to admit the latter made you so much more tolerable.

"There you go, sweetheart. Good job," he said, pulling the cigar away. "But next time, maybe more smoke in your lungs and less in your cheeks."

You frowned. You reckoned if you had let it travel to your lungs, you would’ve gotten the harsh awakening you needed. But you didn’t; you kept the smoke in your cheeks, and it did almost nothing but make you drowsier. 

Blinking slowly, you looked up at Chan, who hadn’t tried anything inappropriate. You knew he had no ill intentions despite not avoiding your naked torso because if he had them, you would have felt it underneath you, and you would just have to bet that it keeps being that way.

Wiggling forward to get closer to him and find a better position for your numbing legs, you dropped your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. You relaxed against him; the buttons on his shirt might leave a faint mark up your chest.

"Hey," he whispered as he peered down. "You're not sleeping on me, are you?”

“I want to sleep,” you muttered. 

“I already paid for this room.”

“You can have sex some other time,” you said. “I have to sleep now.”

“Can you at least sleep on the other side of the couch?” 

You didn’t respond and he knew he wouldn’t get you to even if you were awake. He rolled his eyes and threw his head back on the couch. If he wasn’t sitting on his coat, he might have taken it off for you to use as a blanket. He doubted you were cold, though. Your skin has grown warm, and your breathing regulated itself. 

Leaving the room with all the security cameras would be a hassle. You’d have to figure out how to hide your face to avoid getting him in trouble. As for the man who barged into the room, he was willing to take a bet that he could lie about your presence in the room. Plenty of people loitered the nightclub. You couldn’t be the only person with your hairstyle and body size.

Inhaling a puff of smoke, he watched them go up the ceiling after he released it. 

Flashes of his conversation with his mother after you left the nursing home captured his attention. He tried to deter her from talking about you, which he did, but it wasn’t after she mentioned that you seemed like a good person and told him to be nice to you. 

That’s how he maintains friendships, she nagged. But you weren’t his friend. You weren’t anything to each other.

You breathed softly atop Chan. He brought his hand up to your hair, hot air boiling out of his mouth into a tragic exhale when he couldn’t will himself to do something comforting. His hand slid down to your arm, where he squeezed gently, and finally, it stayed at your waist to keep you close and steady.

"You owe me, kid," he muttered.

When a woman came by to provide him services, he shooed her away.

The back of an alley was the last place Chan expected to find you. Seeing you beaten and bruised was less surprising, considering your inability to socialize.

“I thought I heard something,” he said, crouching before you. 

He scanned your face briefly—a pair of cracked lips, a nosebleed, a bed of grabbed hair, and spots of purple and yellow developing around your eye. You were holding onto your abdomen, too.

"Karma came and bit you in the ass or what?" he asked.

“Maybe,” you mumbled. “I met them when I was at the nightclub. One of them was the man who drugged me. I chewed him out in public, so I’m guessing that’s what he was mad about.”

"Mm," he hummed with intrigue. "You shouldn't have done that."

You rolled your eyes. The pain has gradually faded from being noticeable, but you continued to feel wrong somewhere, like a misplaced bone or a sprained joint. It felt heavy as the hit but not like a weight. You have never been beaten before, so you had difficulty explaining it to yourself, and the lack of knowledge agitated you.

"This wasn't my fault," you said. 

"That's not the point," he argued.

"Then what is?"

"Why would I know?" Chan shrugged. "I didn't get physically assaulted. You did. What did you learn?”

Nothing. You have learned nothing because there was no lesson to learn from events that otherwise shouldn't have happened. 

You could learn about natural phenomena, a dessert recipe, or even the making of a pharmaceutical drug. 

A petty man choosing to retaliate against a trivial matter has no value and isn’t natural. It has no reason to exist. It just did for some incalculable reason. Therefore, it was not worth even you, someone who must make sense of everything, to try to understand it.

The only thing the event shed light upon was that you were better than him, not because you put yourself above physical violence but because you wouldn’t be bothered by something so minuscule in the first place. 

You being better wasn't a learning lesson. You already knew that.

"Take me home," you said. "I will pay you the gas money."

"I have an electric car right now. Maybe later."

He scoffed light-heartedly as he grabbed your wrist and threw your arm over his shoulder. You pushed your weight up with his help and exhaled through the discomfort. Chan peered down your shirt and raised a brow.

"They just beat you up?" he asked. "They didn't try to touch you or anything?”

You pursed your lips. There was an attempt, but you couldn’t shut your nasty mouth up for so long that they decided they didn’t like you enough anymore. Whether that was a miracle was debatable; you thought you would be left with fewer bruises if you had stopped talking.

"No."

"Sweet," he whistled, "virginity preserved."

You clicked your tongue and pushed your palm to his face. The velocity wasn't enough, so you gave him a proper slap before a round of random violence ensued.

He tried to stop you verbally, insincere apologies leaving his lips. However, the more he spoke, the worse you felt. Suddenly, you understood your perpetrator's urge to beat you up. 

"Hey, stop it! Stop it!" He shielded his face for a while before reaching for your shoulder and harshly throwing you toward the wall. "What is wrong with you?"

Your back whined in pain when it hit the wall. Once you dropped to the ground, you lay there and did nothing more to stress your body out. 

Turned out you weren't so much better, after all. If anything, you were so much worse than everyone else.

Chan tidied and dusted his clothes with short strings of curses leaving his lips, complaining about his good deeds going to waste on you. Glancing at your lifeless body, he sighed and shook his head. You could do whatever you want. 

Stepping over you, he walked to leave the alley when his phone rang. He paused to pick it up. 

"Hello?"

The voice on the other side was feminine and firm. She introduced herself as a doctor, apologized for a mix-up in some examination results, and congratulated him on his mother’s acceptance into the clinical trial.

"Yes, no problem. I will bring her over next week as scheduled," he said. "Thank you so much, doctor."

The line cut without static. He pulled the phone away from his ear and squeezed it to ground his thoughts. 

There was only one person he knew who not only knew about his mother’s condition but could also switch around digital information like that—you.

Putting his phone away, he sighed and turned back around. He knelt by you and carefully slipped his arms under your side, adjusting his hands on your shoulder and hip.

"She was nice to me." You peered up meekly. "Your mom was nice to me."

No hospital, no police station. You were heading home, he knew. He swallowed a knot before hoisting you up into his arms. Your glasses were broken. He left it there.

He was warm, like last time, and safe, if you’d call him that. 

"I bet she was."

[waterihardlyknowher]

Heellooo this is my first time writing anything or posting anything on tumblr, I hope you like it 😊 all notes are accepted and wanted!!

I decided to write this as the PlayStation network servers were down so I couldn’t get the jjk wave 2 skins 💔

————————————————————————————

Warnings: Includes smut, language, little bit of Mei slander, Gojo’s a jock basically, both you and Nanami are switches, reader is a BRAT, cum licking

Tags?: smut, cum licking, little bit of hand necklace, P in V, fingering [let me know if I should add more!]

“…anyways, as I was saying the community response to such servers being down has drastically…”

The sounds of the tall man infront of you slowly drowns out as you start to tune out of what he was saying. This tall, attractive man was explaining some big shot important men project that you truly did not care to listen into.

His tall stature in a devilishly dark blue suit, to match his blue eyes, leans in closer as he continues explaining. This guy had to be the one your boyfriend always complained of. The big boss with white hair whom never took the time out of his day to talk to his male employees, yet always somehow ended up in “personal” meetings with his assistants.

As his voice begins meshing into the background of the party, you began to steal a moment to truly look around the room. You were in a huge ballroom, one of those incredibly expensive sky high places right dab in the middle of New York City.

The walls and ceiling were covered in lights, like fireflies littering every space possible. Large crowds of people in black tie attire, from women in sparkly silk dresses to men in black suits.

You yourself were quite dressed up, stunting a beautiful floor length red dress with a slit that meets right at your thigh. You’ve always been told red was your color, from red hair in highschool, to the red lipstick you always wore on special occasions.

An incredibly stupid event if anyone were to truly ask you, but you were only here to be accompany to your wonderful boyfriend. Though, you had lost track of him hours ago.

*ahemn* “I apologize, you’ve caught me in a talkative mood! Now, why again did you say you were here?” The tall man says, snapping you back into the present.

“Oh yes right, I’m here supporting my boyfriend.” You say admittedly trying to seem as though you were listening the whole time.

“Ah yes, I mean of course a woman of your beauty would not be here alone.” He grins, trying to steal a compliment your way.

“Thank you, but speaking of which I better go find him” you always hated these kinds of guys, always giving just too much attention to the women to try to get into their pants. You knew exactly this guys game.

“You can always come back if you don’t find him” he winks “It’s Satoru by the way, in case you forgot it”

Had you already forgotten his name? The conversation had started just moments before yet it felt like a century of listening to this guy go on and on about economy.

You didn’t even pay him the kindness of responding as you walk away. It felt about time to find the one you came with anyway, you had arrived together but got torn apart about halfway through the party.

Checking your phone, the time was now about 7:30 pm. You weren’t sure what time the party would end but wanted it to end sooner than later.

Walking away from the tall man known as “Satoru”, you walk up the stairs of the ballroom. This place was huge, only a company of incredibly high regard could afford a place like this. The first floor was cluttered with black tall tables all around a bar placed right in the center. Bartenders working quickly to fulfill the orders of the businessmen and women surrounding them. With huge floor to ceiling windows, anyone could see anything from the inside. As well as from the outside. You wondered how many people in there apartments might be watching, envious of the people who call themselves the “higher ups”.

As this thought ponders in your mind you make your way up the first couple of steps, not interested in going completely upstairs. Up there would only house a long hallway leading those who dared to the bathrooms of the establishment.

Darting your eyes around you try to find your partner in the crowds of people. Making eye contact with some of them. Another tall dark haired man pulled back into a bun stylishly wearing a black tuxedo, talking to another woman with a beauty mark stunting a dress similar, but shorter than yours in white. A trio of a pink haired man wearing a matching pink suit, a dark haired man wearing an all black suit, and a woman sporting a flattering long purple dress.

None of these people are the one you want to see, you’ve actually almost began to worry.

“If you keep standing there like a lost puppy dog people will begin to notice, you know.” A deep voice breaks your train of thought.

Below you is a handsome man with blonde hair, and unlike anyone else there, dressed in a tan suit sticking out like a sore thumb. You most definitely didn’t notice him, to occupied observing your far surroundings to notice the man approaching.

“If all begin to notice though, then hopefully the one I’m looking for will find me” you say, stepping down a couple of steps to meet the man’s gaze.

“Well, whatever bastard left you alone might not deserve being back in your grace.” his eyes began to trace your body. The soft curls framing your face, the one stray on your left side cutely fraying upward away from the rest. The curls lead down to the heart line of your dress, seductive red hugging your body in all the right places, only complimented by the tease of the slit in your dress.

You drop down a stair, getting closer and forcing his eyes to follow yours down. “Maybe if he begs enough I’ll forgive him.”

The blonde man shamelessly rocked his eyes between your breasts, lips, and eyes. You couldn’t help but repay the favor by snaking your eyes down his figure. His tan suit fit perfectly, complimented by his blue undershirt hugging his muscles. Every fiber of his clothing knowing exactly what to do to make him irresistible.

You drop down the rest of the stairs to meet his side, turning yourself to face him and his shoulder. Perching up on your tip toes, guiding your hands up his arm to meet his shoulder. Whispering in his ear, “If I didn’t know you’d get fired for it, I’d fuck you in front of everyone in here. Nanami.”

You see the blood rush to his face and his ears, the tell all sign of his approval. Turning his face towards you a little he responds, “I don’t think I’d care if I got fired for it.” Darting his eyes between yours and your lips.

You giggle, god you loved this game. An unspoken game created by you, if you remembered correctly. An honest mistake really, at a work event of your own you didn’t recognize his voice from behind you and treated him very absentmindedly as a coworker, not your lover. Neither of you would realize the arousal it would cause until later that night.

Taking yourself off his shoulder you shove him a little, forcing him to face you at the bottom of the stairs. “Where did you run off too anyways?”

Letting out a groan he responds, “Ugh god, I got stuck talking with my fucking co-lead on the project at work, Higuruma”

“Awh, poor baby” you tut, playfully jutting out your bottom lip. “You could not have possibly had it worse than I did, I got stuck with your boss Satoru.”

At that, his shoulders tensed a bit. You knew he didn’t like him, but not that much. “Love I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let us get separated like that. Especially seeing as I’m the only one you know here” he says, closing the distance between you two more, he places his hands on your forearms running his hands down to meet yours. Playfully picking them up and placing a kiss on them.

“Oh you sick love fool, I was fine anyways. Possibly could’ve won me a one way ticket to pound town if I didn’t have my eyes out for someone else.” You say pulling one of your hands away from his, leaving the one left to lead him closer to the windows. No one else was really around you two, everyone else preferring to gather around the bar, aside from the small groups of those talking.

Nanami groans at your last comment, “In that case, I’d gladly get fired for fucking you right in front of him.” Lightly squeezing your still held hands before dropping it, repositioning it around your waist as you stare into the city.

“Oh now that sounds like a plan” you laugh hitting his pec with your hand and leaving it there turning a little to him.

God he was so beautiful in this light. The amount of alcohol you had to consume to put up with Satoru began to finally hit you, feeling the tension between you slightly thicker than usual. His blonde hair was perfectly combed back, the same professional hairdo you’d see him stroll out the door with every morning. His tan suit, making it impossible for you to focus any time he spoke. “Leaving nothing up to the imagination” would not be an accurate statement, cause you indeed did know what was underneath. Yet you couldn’t help yourself imagine and linger on the ideas-

“Oh my god! Is that Kento! Just my favorite sexy businessman I wanted to see tonight.” That comment made both you and Nanami turn around. Behind you stood a white haired women, hair tied back into a braid. Now, if you thought your dress was revealing it would be nothing compared to her cut out dark purple dress. Revealing the most amount of underboob that made you wonder how the dress was staying up on her.

“Mei. I believe everyone in the office talked about being here tonight.” Nanami retorts, the tiniest bit of annoyance that only you’d catch. The kind of annoyance he gets when a child asks stupid questions.

You believe youve heard him talk about her before, the woman who loves to refer to herself as his “work wife” though he’d make sure you knew he felt otherwise.

Turning yourselves more, you stood infront of her with Nanami’s arm still around your waist. Your arms crossed over one another just simply observing the situation unfolding around you.

“Oh, I’m sorry miss I didn’t see you standing there. You must be a friend? I’m Mei Mei, Kento’s work wife as everyone around the office calls me!” She reaches out her hand to shake yours, completely ignoring your closed off posture to pull your hand out and shake. The way she uses his first name makes your skin crawl. He’s told you before the only one who is allowed to use his first name is you, especially while riding him.

“Actually Mei, I believe you’re the only one who calls yourself that. Besides, this is my actual, and only, wife.” Nanami responds giving your waist a little squeeze and rubbing it way with his hand. Your heart flutters a little, out of excitement of him referring to you as such, but also out of a little disappointment in that you were in-fact not his wife.

If only you could have taken a picture of the face Mei made once processing the words he had said. Completely falling, and plastering a slight grimace she pulled her hand back off of yours letting both her hands prop on her hips.

“Oh, hah. That’s funny he’s never mentioned you before. Anyway, I better go. I believe I hear Satoru calling my name.” Mei says point blank, bashfully ignoring the obvious lie she had just retorted.

Turning on her heels Mei walks away with an awful sway in her hips, trying to make both her braid and her ass swish more than plausible.

You and Nanami share a glance before laughing with one another. “God she really is awful, I thought you were being dramatic” you say.

“Absolutely not, I don’t think the best author in the world could convey how heinous her company is.” Turning to make you face him he cups his hand onto your face, keeping his other on your waist. He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, rubbing his thumb along your cheek as he does. “No matter what she says, you are the only woman I love.”

He always knew the slight anxiety placed in the back of your head at all times, not your fault really. You thought it just came with having the most beautiful boyfriend in the entire world. “I liked that you called me that.” You say pushing your face into his hand.

“What, my love?”

“Wife.”

Nanami’s lips crease into a grin, keeping his hand on your face, he closes the distance between you two and kisses you. His classic gentle kiss, just simply placing his onto yours. “I think this party is about over, care for an after party with me?”

You playfully push yourself away from his touch backing up a little, “Ew you’re so romantic I hate it.”

“Sure you do.” He responds with a boyish grin.

You lead the way as he follows you out toward the parking garage. Though, it took longer than you’d hope. Continuing to get stopped, Nanami would have to exchange a few “Nice to see you” “See you at the office” “Don’t drink too much”, between every other person he saw. But you couldn’t complain, you always enjoyed seeing him in his element. Even if he didn’t like the people he worked with, he was always such a sweetheart. Watching his face light up to make sure the person knew they were listened to, and seen by him. You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell a little knowing he was in-fact yours.

Finally arriving to the parking garage Nanami unlocks and opens the passenger side door to allow you room to hop up. Unexpectedly, before you could turn, Nanami grabs the back of your neck planting another kiss on you. This one, unlike the other, was deeper and more sensual. In this kiss, he would move his lips in between yours, embracing you in a deeper French kiss. He couldn’t help his other hand to place on your exposed thigh, gripping tightly as to not let you move away from the kiss.

Your hand finds his on your thigh, placing it there before moving up his arm to repay his strong grip. Nanami’s thumb gently taps your jawline, asking for, or possibly demanding you to open your lips to him. You can’t help but obey as he slips his tongue into your mouth. At that, you let out a groan behind his tongue arching your back to meet his touch all over you.

As unexpectedly as it happened, it stopped. Nanami pulled back from you breathlessly gasping a little before smiling at you without a word, pushing your legs forward before shutting the door.

God was he a tease. But so were you.

Nanami walks to the driver side and hops in, starting the car and beginning the drive home. He knew exactly what he had done to you, and you couldn’t help but repay the favor.

The car full to the brim with tension, the only thing breaking the silence was the radio. Though, you couldn’t focus on the radio, rather focusing on the heat rising in between your legs. You loved this Nanami. The striking, slightly demanding Nanami. Using what was his. And most nights you loved getting used by him, praising words ringing through your ears as he pushed you up and down his length. But tonight felt different. Possibly the large amount of alcohol you had, or possibly the irritating Mei egging you on.

The drive home was probably only 20 minutes, but without traffic and the tension of what happened, Nanami could make it home in 12. So you had to do this quick.

As Nanami was distracted turning a right on red you knew he’d have to look your way, even if only for a moment. Knowing this, you began to touch yourself. Slowly at first, simply drawing a finger from your collar bone down to your breasts. Opening your palm you glide your hand over your clothed boobs, slightly massaging your nipples through the fabric.

You absolutely got off knowing Nanami was watching you, but to make sure you glanced his way. Seeing him eyeing you down while trying, painfully, to watch the road.

From there, you glide your hand over your stomach to the rising heat in your legs. You hadn’t even touched yourself fully and you could feel your breath hitch. Laying your head back into the head rest, letting your back arch a bit into your touch, you take your hand up the slit in your dress to finally make some contact with yourself even if through fabric.

Nanami groaned and tried to reach his hand over. He tried to grab your wrist to stop you, but you had the upper hand of well, another hand. Pushing him away you turn your head to face him. Making direct eye contact, you finally begin to rub yourself through your underwear.

The car jerks as Nanami tries to throw off your balance and get your hand off of you, but unsuccessfully. You should arrive home in about, 6 minutes. With such little time to work Nanami up, you had to go faster.

Opening your legs wider, you lift a leg up resting it on the car door. Your fingers push aside your soaked fabric and finally lay way to your cunt. At this point, your breath is quick and pained. So much arousal flowing through you knowing and seeing Nanami’s discomfort at watching you pleasure yourself.

Arching your back to allow better access, you roll your fingers between your folds, already incredibly wet from the entire night. Brought on even worse by the alcohol you consumed.

From your peripheral, you could see the car approaching a yellow light, then turning red.

Fuck.

As soon as the car stopped Nanami turns completely to you keeping his eyes locked on yours, pulling your hand away from its place. “Fucking slut, you couldn’t wait until we got home.” Roughly grabbing your jawline planting a kiss onto your lips.

His hand locked your wrist midair while his other forced your face into a kiss. Only a couple more minutes you thought.

Breaking away from the kiss to speak you say, “Cause my husband left me alone with my thoughts. What did you think would happen to a girl left all alone in a room full of attractive men? Especially high off alcohol.”

Nanami’s hand is holding your face, unable to hide the dissatisfaction in his face and voice. “That’s too bad really, cause I couldn’t keep my eyes off you all night. Watching you look for me, while pushing away any guy who came up to you.” Tightening the grip on his other hand, holding the hand you used to pleasure yourself moments ago, he tuts “I even had to run off to the bathroom a couple times to rub one out at the thought of you so obsessed with me, and only me.” His eyes darkening as he responded.

At that, you couldn’t help but push your thighs closer together to feel even the slightest bit friction. He knew his dirty talk was only pushing you worse and worse toward dissatisfaction. Even letting out a small grin at your thighs pushing together more.

Your eyelids grew closer together as you questioned, “So you get to touch yourself to the thought of me, but I can’t do it in return?”

“Why would I let you do that when I can do it myself.”

*BEEP*

Pulling you both out of your thoughts you snap forward, leaving the contact of eachother at the sound of a car behind you. You were simply sitting at a green light. Nanami focuses back in the best he can, you would be home in only a couple minutes. But god he might crash if he doesn’t focus. The uncomfortable tent in his pants being the only thing in his mind right now. So painfully tight, and the way he was sitting pushed pressure on his tip harshly.

“You really are such a hypocrite, Nanami.” He was distracted for only a moment, but looking back to you the sight he saw could’ve made him crash right then.

Your legs had resumed their spots, pushed apart, with your hands back between your legs. Finally feeling the friction you had so desperately wanted, rubbing and pinching one hand around your clit. The other hand, dipped your ring and middle finger into your cunt. Keeping your eyes completely locked onto Nanami’s, now unable to focus on the road, you let out a pornagraphic moan leaning your head back further into the head rest.

The displeasure plastered on Nanami’s face only spurred you on more, but sure, you needed more. You needed to feel his cock plowing through your folds to meet the spots you can’t reach with your fingers. But you knew at this sight before him, he would not hold back later.

Still pleasing yourself, you began to move your fingers quicker inside your pussy, trying desperately to hit your g-spot. Rubbing faster and faster on your clit, you can feel the heat tightening in your core.

Nanami’s eyes forced themselves away from yours, making sure that you’d both at least get home in one piece. As for later, he’d make sure you didn’t end up in one piece.

Furrowing your brows at Nanami’s composure, your sounds began flowing over the radio. The lewd noise of your pussy getting wetter and wetter as the time passed, and your moans getting louder in annoyance of loosing his gaze.

You’d not looked at the road for awhile, until you felt the car harshly turn into the driveway. Nanami took that turn purposefully to hard, and to fast, to push you off your balance. Which he had successfully done, as the fingers inside of you slipped out, instead trying to catch yourself on the car door.

Trying to gain any composure you had, you let both your hands leave between your thighs. Nanami quickly parked and tried grabbing you. But before he could catch you, you hopped out of the car and sprinted toward the door.

Giggling to yourself you fumbled with the key that you had in your shoe, to pull out and open the door. Hearing the car completely shut off and large feet hit the concrete. Shutting the door painfully hard Nanami tries to stride over quickly. “Don’t you fucking dare-“ trying to grab you, again unsuccessful.

You had opened the door just in time to push yourself inside and shut the door on Nanami, locking it. You knew he had a key, and would only gain you a couple moments. But a couple moments nonetheless to hide.

Inside, the doorway opened to a large living room and kitchen situated parallel to eachother. The beautiful home both you and Nanami worked hard to build together. But not the time to relish in that, you quicken your pace to the end of the hall to the stairs, quickly running up them as you hear Nanami finally open the door. Slower, though, than he chose to open the car door.

Getting up the stairs you rush to the end of another hall, opening the door, meet with your lovely bedroom. Just a moment of thought as you stand in the doorway, pondering on where to hide.

“I got you.” Nanami retorts right in your ear before capturing your figure in his arms, forcing you to let out a breath as his arms wrap around your waist and pick you up.

Letting out a laugh you let yourself slump into his figure still positioned in the door way, “Awh man you should’ve given me more time to hide.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, no can do my love. Not after that.” Nanami walks you both over to your bed placing you face down against the sheets. Slowly, painfully so, he guides his hands from your waist, to your hands, placing them above you. You couldn’t help but turn your face a little to see his eyes, dark with lust and focus.

Placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder he moves his hands to meet your zipper, finally exposing your skin.

“My god you’re so beautiful. If only you weren’t such a brat to me.” Following after your zipper he places kisses down your spine, stopping at your lower back.

“Oh but Nanami, really? You got to touch yourself all night to me and I can’t do it for what.. 12 minutes?” You say, voice dripping in seduction.

Nanami guides the straps of your dress off with your arms, gently placing them back in their spot above your head. “Actually, no, you cannot do that my love.” After freeing your arms from your dress he guides the rest of the fabric off your body, exposing your matching lace strapless bra and panties. “Fuck.” He says placing himself on top of you, face flush with your ear and at such an angle to rub his bludge against you. “You feel that? That’s what your little show did to me. We both know your small fingers can’t reach the places that my dick could. Fuck even my fingers could reach further.”

Placing his hands at your waist he keeps you still as he rubs his tent up and down your ass. “You in that fucking tight red dress. Flirting your doe eyes at Satoru. Fuck. You knew I was watching, didn’t you? You got off knowing I was fuming seeing you even enjoy his company at all.” His hips began to dip down further, harder, into your cheek.

“Maybe I did.” You let out a deep groan at the heavy pressure of his body weight on you, unable to move. “Maybe I got off on knowing that, but I still didn’t get to touch myself. Asshole.”

Groaning at your defiance, Nanami’s hands on your waist tighten as he flips you over to face him. “I’ll make you come so hard around my fingers you’ll never even think about touching yourself alone.” his eyes dark with anger, or possibly, arousal?

Face to face with Nanami now, you flutter your eyelashes, making yourself seem more innocent or fearful than Nanami knew you were. “Did your hand satisfy you enough? Is that why you’re so mad now?” You tut out pushing back on his dirty talk. “Did fucking your fist not feel as good as my hands around it? Flicking your slit just the way I know you like it? Or were you too busy thinking about my mouth going up and down the veins in your dick-“

Forcing you to stop your talking Nanami kisses you hard into the bed. Letting out a groan, signaling that your words were having just the effect you wanted on him. You remember that you’re free to move your hands, finding their place in his under cut. Both your hands surround his head pulling him impossibly closer to you.

His hands begin to wander up your torso and rubs your breasts through your bra. You rewarded his touch with a small moan, arching your back into his touch.

Suddenly he completely stands, completely off of you standing straight. “Tsk you slut. You love this don’t you. Love driving me crazy. Love this dirty talk.” Making direct eye contact with you he finally freed his skin from underneath his suit. Completely losing his suit jacket and button up, his beautiful chest was out for you to look at. God, it was like he was chiseled out of marble the way his biceps flexed to guide his hands to his belt. His abs flexing at the knowledge of what would happen next.

Nanami being completely off of you gave you some room to move back, choosing to slide all the way to the headboard of the bed. Resting your back against it, you watched Nanami undress beside the bed.

As his pants fell his boxers finally had enough room to free his bulge a little. Not enough to cause any satisfaction though. Studying his body in the same state of undress as you, “You know. From how hard your dick is right now I’d say you’re getting off from this too. Kento.”

Oh how he loved when you used his first name. No one was allowed to use it but you of course, and he all but hated Mei Mei for using it ever. Choosing to finally let his erect shaft free, Nanami pulls his boxers completely off to meet his pants on the floor.

His dick was so hard that it stood perfectly up, seemingly laying against his navel. The tiniest bit of precum was leaking from its tip, painting his shaft a glossy shiny film that continued to travel down to its base.

While laying against the headboard, you spread your legs wider for Nanami to see the same sight between your legs. Practically dripping onto the bed already, your lace panties barely held any liquid back from your cunt. You placed your hand over your clothed center, needing to feel some friction.

Nanami crossed the distance between you, propping himself in front of you on his heels. “Now. Isn’t that what got you into this situation, my love?” Gripping your wrist away from yourself, similar to how he had done in the car. Pulling your arm up to him, he threw it around his shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist embracing you in a kiss. This one was a sweet one, almost apologetic to what he knew he was going to do to you. He lightly grips your waist as your other hand meets yours around his neck.

You couldn’t help but try to lift up one of your legs, to at the very least, get some friction on his dick. Still passionately kissing, your leg slides up his thigh and to his side. One leg still planted on the bed, you rub your heated core against his dick, feeling the veins run slightly against your clit.

“F-Fuck… Nanami….” your breath quickening by the second.

“What my love?” He asks, pulling away. “Please? Do you want to ask me so nicely to finally fuck you?”

You felt his shoulders slightly relax at his own words. Surging the moment, you take your hands from around his neck and push him, hard.

Letting his back hit the bed he lets out a laugh, positioning his legs from under him to lay flat.

“As if I’d ever beg you.” Raising yourself up onto his lower abdomen, you begin to lean forward and backward, rubbing your clothed pussy against his abs. His hands find your hips, in a way, helping you rub yourself against him. You throw your head back in pleasure.

“Oh love. We both know you have. If you weren’t so drunk right now you’d be begging me to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.” He huffs, his own breath beginning to quicken at the thoughts racing through his head. You rocked your hips against his abs, making him wet with your own juices.

“Fuck.” You mutter out, feeling the desperation grow in your stomach. As you place your hands on his pecs, you glance downward to meet his eyes. His eyes locked onto yours, admiring you using him. “It doesn’t matter if I’m drunk Kento, you love being used.” Your pussy started clenching at nothing but your own words. “My own little fuck toy I get to use.”

He grips your hips tighter, and rolls his head back a little, bucking his hips upward to try and grab some friction. He lets out a groan before grabbing the sides of your panties and ripping them.

“God I need to feel you. Please.” Nanami says, pulling the now ripped panties from between your legs and tossing them off the bed. Nothing between you and his abs now, your clit finally gets direct contact with the curves and valleys of his abs.

Needing to feel more stimulation than his abs, you move yourself further down to his erect dick. Placing your folds around his members you move up and down, pussy fucking him.

“Like this Nanami? You like that?” You say, slowing your hips down. Feeling his tip rub against your clit, stealing a moan from your lips. Nanami’s head leans back at the sensation, groaning at your stunt. He couldn’t help but feel annoyed at your defiance, he guessed he didn’t really clarify what he meant by ‘feeling’ you.

“S-stop. You’re not cumming like that.” Nanami lifts himself up to meet you face to face, gripping your waist tight as he raises you up.

Nanami wraps an arm around you holding you up. Pressing your chest to him, you guide your hands up his chest and his neck, resting your hands in his under cut. As you pepper kisses over his face, he uses his other hand to guide his dick to your entrance. “You’re so wet” he groans looking up to meet your eyes, simply rubbing his tip through your folds.

Your breath is incredibly fast now, feeling so needy but pushing through the want to beg him to fuck you. “Cause ah- you keep teasing me.” You breathily respond.

“Tell me what you want” Nanami says, still staring longingly into your eyes. Your fingers in his undercut swirl around in circles as your thumbs caress under his ears. He abruptly stops moving his tip around you, waiting for a response.

“I want…” your breath getting caught in your throat “I want you to fuck me, make me cum around your dick and-“ Nanami starts moving his tip again circling around your clit making it harder to focus on your words, “shit- ah.” Breaking the eye contact you force your eyes shut leaning your head back and arching into his touch, moving your hips around to steal more pleasure from his movements, “cum inside of me, and then lick it all out of me.” you slightly groan at the last part of your thought, it was something you couldn’t keep your mind off of the entire night.

“Mmmhm, look at me” Nanami says, unable to grip your jaw to make you seeing as his hands were preoccupied. You couldn’t help but obey as you look back into his eyes, he clicks his tongue. “Tsk. What?”

Still grinding against his tip, unable to move downward to force him inside because of his tip, you respond “Please. Ah- Ken. Please.”

“Good girl.” He says, embracing you in a kiss, before pushing you down onto his dick. Taking a gasp from you, you kiss him back before moaning into his mouth at the sensation. Finally some relief from a tension built up all night, you feel his dick push through any resistance in your walls. He stops halfway onto his dick to give you a second to adjust. “Doesn’t matter how many times I fuck this pussy, you’re always so tight for me” Nanami coos, snaking his hand that was on his base up your body, unclipping your bra with one hand to pull of your arms. Unable to protest, your still pushed into his body by his arm, being forced to adjust to his size as he moves your arms to get your bra off.

One of your hands is still in his hair as the other slides down to his shoulder, pushing it. You weren’t trying to escape his grasp, or maybe you possibly were, you just needed something to grab to release the pleasant pain shooting through you. You could feel every vein of his cock pulsing through you, teasing you without any movement other than the blood rushing into his dick.

Your breasts now free for him, one of his hands finds one of them to cup into his hand and massage as his mouth finds the other. As his hand openly squeezes your breast, his mouth assaults the other planting wet hot kisses into your nipple. “Fu- yeah yeah I like that, Ken.” Finally adjusted to his length you push yourself all the way down his dick, your core making contact with his base.

At that, both of you gasp and moan at finally being completely connected. Nanami’s hand and mouth leave your breasts, his hand rather taking place around your neck, gently holding you and making your face meet his. “You like that, slut? Like being full to the brim with my dick?” With his arm around your waist, he had complete control of your movements. He started moving you slowly up and down his shaft, taking it agonizing slow, making you feel every pump and twitch of his dick.

Your walls clenched around him, feeling satisfied with your position, moaning and closing your eyes. His hand around your neck meant you couldn’t lean back, but you pushed your head back breathing at the feeling of his dick. “Yeah. Ah- I like that Ken. F-fuck, make me come Kento.”

At your permission, Nanami starts pushing you up and down his length faster, moving his hips up off the bed to meet your hips everytime you came down. He moves his hand off your neck to wiggle down between the two of you, planting soft circles around your clit.

The overstimulation of both his dick and his hands made your body shiver and convulse in satisfaction. Feeling the familiar sensation in your stomach as he moved you up and down. You throw your arms over his shoulders to plant your face in his neck, biting and kissing at his collarbone before licking your tongue up his neck to his ear. “Yeah ah- you’re making me feel so good Ken,” you coo, feeling his dick twitch at your voice. His head is slightly leaned back, pushing against your head as he listens “You wanna make me come around your dick? Let me milk you over and over again?”

Nanami’s pace quickens as he listens to your praises and approval, his fingers start digging into your side as his hand pushes harder against your clit as well. Gaining a moan from you, placed directly into his ear.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum before you do” he says, in an almost whinny tone. His pace starts faltering the tiniest amount as he feels his balls tighten, a clear signal of his soon release.

Still places praises in his ear, you pick up his faltering pace yourself. Quickening it even more as you feel the coil in your stomach tightening as well. “Yeah? Yeah I’d like you to come, I wanna feel your cum fill me up. I wanna milk your dick Kento.” Groaning against your words Nanami rubs faster and faster on your clit, feeling your walls tightening around him the same time his shaft begins to twitch.

Nanami moans and finally releases into you, shooting spurts of hot cum directly into your cunt. He bites down into your neck as he keeps cumming, feeling you squeeze him. The overwhelming feeling of his hand stimulating your clit and his dick pouring his white liquids into you, you also release with a moan.

Nanami’s firm grasp only tightens as he slowly grinds you through both of your highs, your nails dig into his back leaving crescent shapes all over his upper back. Both your orgasms come down slowly, as you place yourself at his base.

You both breathe heavily, trying to regain your strength after an intense orgasm. Nanami’s head lifts from the valley of your neck to look at you. Moving his hand from between the two of you, he tucks your hair behind your ear and traces his thumb along your jawline. Stopping at your chin, he holds your face before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

Returning his kiss you both slowly make out, as he leans you back against the bed. Your head hits the pillows softly as his kiss lead to the corner of your mouth, down your neck and into your collar bone. Placing gentle kisses he sucks slightly on your collar bone as he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of feeling him, feeling a bit of cum leaking out of you.

Nanami’s kisses trace down to your boobs as he gropes as massages them again, sucking on one nipple before moving to the other, showing them equal love. Your back arches as your head digs deeper into your pillow.

Sighing, Nanami grabs your hips and he kisses down your stomach, to your navel and stopping. He hooks his arms under your legs as he throws them over his shoulders.

You look down to make eye contact with him as he moves further down, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hand snakes down your body to rest in his hair, that is completely disheveled. Only made worse by your hand now in it, grasping down on his scalp.

Nanami looks at you as he sticks his tongue out and licks, from the very bottom of your hole to your clit. Collecting all of the juices that might’ve spilled from you. Gasping, your eyes close at the sensation, still incredibly sensitive from the orgasm.

“Tsk. Watch me love.” Nanami says, pulling back from between your thighs. “Watch me as I lick my cum out of you.” Your eyes open reluctantly to meet his, a boyish grin plastered across his face at your obedience.

“Good girl, just like that.” It takes everything in you to not close your eyes and rear your head back, to simply revel in the pleasure. But Nanami’s intense gazes makes you unable to look away. His grin disappears between your thighs, as he gets closer and closer, breathing on your cunt. “Fuck, you look like you could cum again.”

“Nanami, please.” You whine out, angry with his teasing. He feels himself grow hard at your whines, deciding to finally give into what you wanted most. He lays his tongue flat against your pussy to lick all the way up again, before cupping his tongue into your hole. He tongue fucks you, as you feel him swallow every ounce of cum leaking from you.

The overwhelming sensation starts sending you toward an edge again, gripping him tighter you begin to ride his face. He gladly allows you to use him, muttering through your folds “Fuck, you needy slut. Want to come around my fingers?” He asks, gently placing his thumb to your hole as his tongue wraps around your clit.

Your hips buck at the feeling, your arousal prominent and building as every second passes. Enough time since your orgasm you feel the familiar coil begin to tighten in your womb.

Nanami slips his index and middle finger through your folds, pumping in and out as your walls clench around his fingers. His tongue still assaults your clit as you gasp “Ugh, yeah yeah like that.” Your head falls back to the bed the same time your back arches into his touch.

He turns his hand inside of you, changing the position of his fingers to hook upward in you searching for, and finding, your g-spot. At the feeling of it hit at the same time he sucks harshly on your clit, you gasp out a pornographic moan, incredibly close to release.

“Yeah, my love, ride my face.” He says before quickening his pace, tongue circling faster and fingers digging and pushing.

His nasty words send you over the edge, finishing all over his fingers. Your walls pulse and squeeze as his fingers slow, and halt inside of you, his tongue still pleasing you through your orgasm.

As you fall from your high, you open your eyes to pear down as Nanami pulls his fingers out of you and raises on his elbows to meet your gaze. Slowly, he places his fingers in his mouth, going impossibly deep to take all of his digits. You see as his tongue nastily and suggestively push through his middle and index finger, drawing them from his mouth. He lets out a groan as he tastes and swallows your juices.

“Shit, I love feeling you cum around my fingers.” He says, placing a kiss against your stomach. “I love feeling you clench around them, sucking on them like your life depends on it.” Placing more kisses up your stomach, between your breasts, up your neck and finally resting himself on top of you to look at you. Your hands find the sides of his face as he says, “I just love everything about you.”

Your breath returns to a normal as your hands rest on the sides of his face, “Oh, don’t I know it.” You kiss his lips.

“Marry me?”

He pulls away a little to stare into your eyes lovingly. “What?” You question, stunned by the sudden comment

“Will you marry me?”

Nanami’s eyes flicker between both of yours searching for an answer that your lips could not give him.

“Hmph, I’ll think about it.”

[softxsuki]

Hi hi hi

I'm here to submit my ask for your Valentine Event if I'll make it to the 10 lucky people 🥹

I'd love to get a letter from Caleb (Love and Deepspace) with him writing to us from the Skyhaven/military with us not seeing him for months due to his work, and him promising to come back soon. I'd love for him to call me Pipsqueak (his nickname for in-game mc) or/and Princess if the first one won't fit the letter vibe.

We would have a long established relationship (with a lot of crushing on the other as teens hehe) let's say that I'm 23 and him 25 (his current age) living together, I'd love fluffy letter with him talking about how much he misses me (and our kid aka the cat) and teasing me about my cooking skills promising to take care of me soon ~ and for reader please do female :3

If I'm missing any information please dm me :^ (and sorry-)

If I won't get to the event still thank you for reading this, have a nice day 💜

Caleb's Love Letter to His Girlfriend

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Caleb x Fem!Reader | Genre: Fluff? Idk | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 510|

Warnings: missing a loved one?

Note: My first ever Love and Deepspace request! Was super excited for this! Though…I haven’t had a chance to read any of the new Caleb chapters (I’m very much behind) but I love the guy. Hopefully I did his character justice! LND is my hyper-fixation at the moment. Happy Valentine’s Day! <3

You push open the door to your apartment, mail in hand–it had been an exhausting day of chasing and fighting wanderers. With a sigh, you kick the door closed with your foot, making sure it was locked, Caleb’s voice running through your mind with reminders of making sure you always locked it behind you.

Oh Caleb–how much you missed him, just thinking about him makes your heart ache. He had been away for a few months, back at the Skyhaven for business. Sure, you spoke over the phone and texted each other when time allowed it, but nothing could compare to actually having him with you.

You throw yourself on the couch, your apartment faintly lit by the floor lamp in the corner of the living room. Your kitty makes herself comfortable on your lap, clearly missing you after you’d been out all day. She lets out a quiet purr, snuggling up to you as you mindlessly pet her. 

Your attention moves to the stack of mail in your hands. Flicking through each envelope until a familiar name makes your eyes widen. You quickly sit up, abandoning the rest of your mail on the couch before quickly opening his letter;

To My Pipsqueak,

Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess. Bet you didn’t expect to get this, huh? I’m hoping it arrived on time…if my math was right and there weren’t any delays with the mail, then you should be getting this on that lovely day of the year where couples celebrate their love together. Sadly, I’m many miles away from you, but I could at least send you a piece of my heart, which already belongs to you.

How are my girls doing? You and our little kitten; I miss you both very much…it’s too quiet and cold without you. I complain when I’ve only gone a few hours without you, so imagine how horrible it’s been being away from you for months? I’m at my limit, Princess. 

I’m sure you’ve been busy kicking wanderer butt, but I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Staying well rested and eating all your meals for the day…hopefully you haven’t burned the place down yet. I’m kidding…mostly. Me and my cooking will be back very soon to take care of my girl. Just a little longer and I’ll be back by your side. Until then, stay safe, and stay out of trouble. I’m not around to drag you out of it, so be good. I love you, always.

Yours,

Caleb.xx

You don’t even realize the small smile splayed across your lips as you finish reading and re-reading his letter. Such an old-fashioned form of communication, hardly anyone sends handwritten letters anymore, that form of communication was long buried with the past, way before wanderer’s appeared on earth.

Soon.

You only had to hang in there a little longer before he’d be back. You could do that.

“Your daddy will be back with us soon, honey,” you whisper to the kitten in your lap who lets out a little meow almost in acknowledgement. Only a little longer…

Posted: 2/14/2025