#and pulled over like a crazy person because the lighting was insane in there
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mer-se · 5 months ago
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flwrstqr · 21 days ago
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❪ 日语 ❫ 𓈒 ㅤ DREAMER, ENHYPEN AS YOUR HUSBAND ╰—— 𝓲. ⸝⸝𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗂'𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽.
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── 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⸝⸝ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽
‎ ‎ ✶ 𝐀𝐂𝐓‎ ‎𝐈 : husband!enhypen + fem!r 1OOOwc ⟡​ fluff oneshots headcanons ࿁ you on your lady days for riki's part TT, skinship, petnames. && 【 VOGUE 】
다니 : since this won the poll,, i'll post this first (>//<) trust i'll post the other one tomorrow or some day over the weekends
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung never lets you sit anywhere but on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. “baby, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, lips grazing your skin. you giggle, hitting his arm in a teasing way. “hee, we’ve been married for years. aren’t you tired of flirting?” he pulls back, feigning offense. “never. in fact—” he tilts his head, eyes dark with mischief— “i think i’ve gotten better at it.” you roll your eyes, but he steals a kiss before you can retort, his lips melting into yours. “mm, still obsessed with me, huh?” you tease, and he smirks, tightening his hold. “hopelessly. my wife’s too gorgeous, what am i supposed to do?” you try to glare at him, but he only kisses your pout away, laughing as he pulls you closer.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 "jay, what the hell is this?" you gape at the endless shopping bags filling your living room, designer logos flashing at you like a personal boutique had exploded in your home. your husband grins, draping an arm around your waist. "happy two-week wedding anniversary, baby." you blink at him. "two weeks, jay. who even celebrates that?" he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. "me. because i love you. and i love spoiling my wife." you groan, burying your face in his chest as he chuckles. "you're insane." he tilts your chin up, eyes twinkling. "insanely in love with you." you roll your eyes, but your heart flutters when he kisses you like he’d marry you all over again if he could. "just say thank you, pretty girl," he whispers against your lips. sighing, you wrap your arms around his neck. "thank you, my crazy but handsome husband."
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake finds you curled up on the couch, your soft breaths filling the quiet room, the tv still playing faintly in the background. his heart melts instantly—his wife, waiting for him, only to fall asleep. he crouches beside you, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. "my pretty girl," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. he leans in, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead, careful not to wake you. you stir slightly, lips parting, but he soothes you with a gentle hand on your back. “shh, sleep, baby,” he whispers, then, without hesitation, he scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to his chest. he chuckles under his breath, pressing another feather-light kiss to your temple. “always waiting for me,” he sighs, carrying you to bed.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon hums, fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip as you both lie tangled in the sheets. “how about waffles, since we had it for breakfast?” he murmurs, lips brushing against your temple. you scoff, flicking his forehead. “hoon, that’s the ugliest name ever.” he chuckles, pulling you closer, his skin warm against yours. “fine, then you come up with one, genius.” you pause, thinking, and he watches you with that soft, lovestruck gaze. “hmm… i like soojin for a girl.” “soojin,” he repeats, testing it on his tongue. “pretty. what about a boy?” “maybe—” “no,” he interrupts, voice low, teasing. “i vote for waffles.” you groan, burying your face in his chest. “we’re never having kids.” he just laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair. “too late, sweetheart. i already imagined a little waffle park running around.”
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 “baby, you have a fever,” sunoo pouts, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead for the tenth time in the past minute. you groan, swatting him away, but he’s already tucking the blanket tighter around you. “stay still, i’ll get you some medicine.” before you can protest, he’s gone, returning moments later with a glass of water, a thermometer, and— “sunoo, why did you bring an entire first aid kit?” he huffs, ignoring you as he carefully pops a pill into your palm. “just in case! what if your fever suddenly skyrockets? or you faint? or—” “baby,” you mumble, tugging at his sleeve, “i think i’ll survive.” he softens instantly, cupping your cheek. “i just don’t like seeing you sick,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “so let me take care of you, okay?” you sigh, giving in.
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 jungwon notices before you even say a word. at exactly three hours into the party, he glances at you, eyes flickering down to your heels, and like clockwork, you mumble, “my heels hurt…” without missing a beat, he’s already reaching for your hand, guiding you toward a quieter corner. “i knew it,” he murmurs, setting down his drink before crouching in front of you. “here, hold onto me.” you blink as he loosens the straps, slipping your heels off with gentle hands. “won, you didn’t have to—” “of course, i did,” he interrupts softly, pulling out a pair of flats from the bag he brought—because of course, he thought ahead. your heart swells as he looks up, grinning. “i always know what you need.” you shake your head, laughing, but as he presses a kiss to your lips, you realize—yeah, he really does.
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 "babe, what size do i have to get?" riki’s panicked voice crackles through the phone, and you bite back a laugh, curled up in bed with a heating pad pressed to your stomach. "riki, it's not jeans, just get the ones i always use," you tease, hearing him groan dramatically on the other end. "yeah, but there's like—fifty kinds! wings, no wings, overnight, ultra-thin—why is this so complicated?" he whines, and you can practically picture him, standing in the aisle with a distressed look, glaring at the shelves. you giggle, and he huffs. "stop laughing at me, i'm suffering for you," he grumbles, but then softer, "do you need anything else? chocolate? a heating pad? tell me, baby, i got you." your heart melts, even as he keeps acting nonchalant. "just hurry back, riki." "i'm already running," he says, and you know he means it.
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callieisto · 2 months ago
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This is Kali’s fault. @killakalx
Minors Dni- includes. Slight dirty talk? But? Loving?, marking, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, cumming inside, kind of sappy pillow talk, dom!Clark, fem!reader
Clark Kent is strong enough to pick you up and use you like a fleshlight. He doesn’t, usually, because that’s mean and he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you or anything.
But there are rare occasions, when he’s had enough of being Superman, when he’s had enough of being Clark Kent, where he lets himself tap into those desires to just… use you.
He’s got you pinned to the wall of his apartment, feet not even scraping the floor, his tongue so deep in your mouth you swear he’s trying to make you choke on it. (Doesn’t help that his is a little bit longer than a normal person’s, and his sharp little fangs don’t help much either.) He’s holding you up by your waist, his grip bruising, and when he pulls back he’s out of breath.
“I need you,” he whispers, and it’s the last semblance of a boyfriend who’s gentle or careful with you that you’re going to get for a few hours. His glasses are askew, his hair is ruffled, his shirt has already been halfway unbuttoned thanks to your wandering hands. “Please.”
When you say “okay”, he’s on you faster than he’s ever been on anything in his life. Ripping your shirt down the middle- your bra, too- he’s setting you down on unsteady feet before basically attacking your chest, biting and sucking his way down your body, coming to where the hem of your pants hugs your waist before he stops. He looks up at you, blue eyes nearly eclipsed by his pupil, blown wide with arousal.
They flash gold when they catch the light.
Clark looks like a proper predator, and suddenly you understand why villains get all prickly when they’re dealing with Superman. He’s scary. Your sweet, loving boyfriend, who has never once even raised his voice at you, is downright terrifying.
“I can smell you,” he chokes out, and his voice is dark. Your pants are gone before you can even register his movements, and your underwear are also the unfortunate victims of his super strength. “Can hear your heart beating,” he breathes, a little laugh escaping him as he presses his mouth against the soft skin of your stomach. “Your blood, I can… fuck…”
Aaaaand you’re suddenly on the couch, Clark is between your legs, and he’s eating you out like he’s never had a meal before in his life. Usually he’s careful, controlled, wants to make you feel good before anything else. But right now, he’s just hungry, and he’s getting more enjoyment out of your desperate attempts to squirm away from him and the noises you’re making more than anything else. He makes you cum three times while he mutters about how you’re ‘such a good girl’, and then he’s cradling your face in his hands, cooing at you while you come back down to earth.
“You prepped? Y’ready to take my dick, sweet girl?”
(His southern accent is thick; he looks and sounds drunk on you, chin covered in your slick, big blue eyes meeting yours.)
He doesn’t let you answer, mostly because he knows you can’t. And he knows his dick is huge- he goes slow, usually, but tonight he just needs to feel you cum on his cock otherwise he’ll go insane, he’ll go crazy.
Clark feels properly awful about how you’re already squirming and whining when he presses his tip at your entrance. He wants to do something, but then the tip slips in, and he’s gone.
He pushes in the rest of the way with a wet shlck, curling his body over yours so he can see the way your pussy looks speared on his cock. “Fuck.” He rumbles. “Look at you, taking me so deep. God, it’s like you’re made for it, made for me…”
He thrusts into you, keeping his forearm above your head to brace himself- when your hands curl around his bicep and squeeze all desperate, he blacks out for a second. When he wakes up again, you’re squealing, and he’s rubbing circles against your clit with his free hand, and you have some bite marks that are stark against your skin.
“Cum for me.” He begs, and his voice doesn’t even sound like his own. “Cum for me right now, I know y’can do it, I want you t’do it, you’ve been so good f’me, so fucking good, the best, taking me so deep and hard like it’s what you were made for- please give it t’me, darlin, please.”
When you sob all high and pretty and spasm on his dick, he feels like he’s seeing stars. Actually, it’s better than stars, because he’s just looking at you, at the tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, at the red marks you leave when you dig your nails into his skin. Clark sees everything.
And then he cums, pushing deep inside, a choked gasp of your name dropping from his lips. He screws his eyes shut, his nose wrinkling in that cute way it does when he’s thinking. He moans low and just for you.
… when he comes back to his senses, you’re softly squirming under his weight, grumbling about how heavy he is. He pulls back- and out- watching with amazement as a bit of cum starts to trickle out. He barely resists the urge to follow it with his tongue, because he thinks you’d kill him.
“My sweet girl.” He croons instead, pressing soft kisses to your face. “So good, so pretty. Took me so amazingly.”
“You almost killed me,” you complain, pouting at him. “Women on this planet are not built to handle seven orgasms, Clark.”
He tilts his head. “I only remember four.” He says, raising an eyebrow. “… but I can make it seven, if you want. Really test the limits of the human body, y’know-”
You hit him in the side of the head with a throw pillow. He relents.
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agnireed · 2 months ago
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Rainfall
summary �� you've convinced yourself daryl hates you and that only increases when you have to go on a run together
word count 🏹 9.8k
warnings 🏹 large age gap, daryl and reader are embarrassingly bad at feelings, slow burn, slightly ooc side characters (maggie and beth)
thank you to @sparklytyphoondaze for the suggested prompt!
You had almost started to think you were going crazy right alongside the state of the world. 
There wasn’t any other person, before or after that fall, that could bring you to the level of confusion and anger that Daryl Dixon managed to without fail every time you were forced to speak to each other. It was made even worse by the fact you had no idea what about you got him so upset.
You contributed to the group whenever you were needed and then some, you had never once insulted him or even sent a mean look his way unprompted and there was certainly no stand out event that had seared this bitterness into his mind. 
It seemed like he just hated you for no reason at all and this drove you insane in a way that you wish it didn’t. You didn’t necessarily fall under the belief that everybody had to like you but it really rubbed you the wrong way that somebody had decided they didn’t just because of the way you were.
At first you had figured it had to do with your young age but he didn’t sneer at Beth the same way he did with you and nobody else seemed to agree with your assumption whenever you pried them for any known information. 
You certainly had too much time on your hands these days at the prison because you had gone full blown investigator mode to try and figure out what you had been doing so wrong.
Maybe you reminded him of somebody from his past that he had a hard time with or possibly he found annoyance in the fact you managed to carry your love for all things pink and cute over into the apocalypse with you. You felt ridiculous for actually taking this to heart and you frowned at yourself in the mirror when you pulled a particularly beige tank top over your head instead of your typical blush colored ones. 
Daryl wasn’t going out of his way to be mean to you or specifically targeting you when he didn’t have to but a slightly annoyed glance from the man was enough to rattle you for the rest of the day, for reasons you didn’t really understand.
You prided yourself on being pretty tough and there was a lot you could handle before you even felt a twinge of upset but not when it came to the stoney archer. 
He was easy enough to ignore but that was full blown impossible whenever it came to Rick allowing you to do anything the other group members did. He would scoff angrily under his breath and storm off when you were assigned to go on a run and you’d see them having heated discussions whenever you were put on gate duty for long shifts. 
It was clear to you that he didn’t find you capable of helping out and although he never outwardly said it you knew that he felt uneasy trusting the lives of the others in your hands, marking you as a liability even though you’d never so much as tripped on a run let alone endangered people you considered family. 
“Am I really that bad?” You would have felt ridiculous for being so whiny but you knew Beth and Maggie were used to you coming into a cell with this exact tone by now. You had seen the look they shared when you flopped down onto the bed with a groan and now your eyebrows furrowed as you sat back up to face them. “What was that look?”
The younger of the sisters fell silent and she looked almost like she was holding in a laugh as she watched the side of Maggie’s face and waited for her to say whatever it was they were silently communicating. 
“Nothing honey it’s just…” Her familiar light twang was doing very little to soothe your worry and annoyance and you leaned in closer as she took a second to pause and stifle a building laugh. “Are you wearing brown?”
You froze as you processed her words before glancing down at the shirt you had thrown on today and groaning at the same time Beth was finally letting out an actual laugh. The sight of you in anything this shade was certainly unfamiliar and clearly a big enough deal that it was all they could focus on right now, ignoring your question you had originally asked in favor of making fun of you. 
“I don’t think his issue with you is you being girly.” Beth had a voice that couldn’t sound anything but sweet even if she tried so you took her statement as genuine reassurance even if she was still attempting to tease you. 
The pair had long been subjected to your ramblings about the older man and every little biting remark or disinterested stare he sent your way and they were just as stumped as you. Although they provided no solution for your issue it was still comforting to know you weren’t making it up and other people had noticed his distaste for you.
You sulked back to your own cell only an hour or two after joining the sisters and listening to them ramble about their own problems and thoughts, commonly occurring sessions where you could all get some things off your chest. It was a nice dynamic and you often felt touched by how easily they had brought you into the fold of their sisterly bond. 
Everybody in the group felt the same to you, love and trust apparent between each of you and then all together as a whole. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the people inside these walls and you felt no doubt in them doing whatever it would take for you in return if and when you needed it. 
There was only one exception to this feeling and you were growing more and more frustrated by his refusal to bond with you, even if it was surface level.
You didn’t think Daryl would leave you without water if you were dying of thirst but you figured if it was in a high tree he might just tell you it wasn’t worth the effort.
Your theory was most likely going to be tested in some shape because Rick was approaching you the next day to tell you in the most stern voice he could muster that you would be going on a run. You could tell from the look in his eye that he was telling you this way because a certain somebody would be tagging along but you expected that it was just going to be the two of you on your own.
��Ain’t happening.” Daryl seemed just as dejected as you did at the news but Rick had apparently given him alot less time to be upset about it considering the words flying from his mouth when he saw you and your leader approaching him on his bike, already loaded up and at the gate ready to go. 
You sighed at the realization you were a surprise guest, annoyance in your gut knowing this would only further his hatred towards you.
“Who would you prefer?” Rick was spitting back at him in a half whisper like it would save you from being able to hear. You were even more hurt at the way he phrased it, clearly letting you in on the fact they had had this conversation before. “The cars can’t get through, not on that route.”
“I can ride a bike.” You weren’t sure why you had tried to help out with the slightly useless piece of information, knowing neither of them would ever let you go by yourself on a run let alone with Daryl’s bike. If either of them seemed surprised by the fact then they didn’t show it but his sneer turned to you faster than you could retract your suggestion. 
“Like hell you will.” He said it so harshly that you were almost taken back by it. He was never kind to you but it certainly hadn’t gotten to this point in quite some time and your eyes flashed with surprise as you took a few steps backwards so you were further behind Rick.
He watched you for a breath or two after that and you almost thought you saw regret passing over his face even though it was gone as quickly as it came once he faced Rick again. You were pushing yourself further back with another sigh so they could quickly have their biting conversation and get it over with. 
You’d already done the checklist in your head and realized there truly was nobody else who could both be on the back of his bike and also perform well in a run and it was only a matter of time before he understood that too. He was an asshole but he wasn’t unreasonable and you knew he wouldn’t completely abandon a run just because he didn’t want you coming along.
Your theory proved correct because soon enough you were settling yourself on the seat behind him and smiling tightly at Rick when he placed a hand on your arm, silently wishing you good luck with a firm nod.
You did your best to ignore his grumbles for you to hold on and luckily you had grown up on a bike and weren’t saying that for no reason so it was easy enough to sit still and not disturb him. There was a deeper bratty part of you that wanted to softly rock side to side just enough to get his attention and annoy him but you decided against it.
If he was going to dislike you then you wanted it to be a complete reflection of his poor character and nothing to do with you.
He was surprisingly docile for most of the long ride and even let you take a break on the side of the road midway through so you could both stretch your legs and avoid cramping up by the time you got there and actually had to be on high alert. 
“It’s a nice bike.” You felt stupid for speaking as soon as you heard the sound of your own voice and saw his head snapping up to look at you.
He was crouching down near it like he was investigating an issue but you knew he was just pretending to be busy to avoid the awkward silence or having to talk to you, two things that were currently happening thanks to your lack of impulse control.
“Sorry.” You were sighing and awkwardly looking away from him, taking a few steps closer to the tree line because how uneasy his strong gaze was making you feel. A rush of embarrassment overtook you and you strangely felt like you were going to tear up for some reason, pushing some loose rocks with your foot and glancing down the road. 
“S’all good.” He was finally responding and your eyes widened in surprise, glad to see he had looked away again just in time and didn’t see your reaction. “Was my brothers.”
“I remember.” Your voice was soft because you had actually known where the bike came from just from hearing him mention it a handful of times and you also knew enough to know why he tensed at the reminder that you had actually met his brother.
Daryl hadn’t been as docile then in his anger both towards you and everybody else and it felt like you got left behind with Merle on that rooftop when he decided to let down some of his walls and start trusting people. You weren’t a part of that equation which confused you even more now that you started to recall the earliest days of your meeting.
You had been pretty much the sole target of Merle’s disgusting rants about the women in the camp, making comments in passing about the others but really locking in on you whenever you were in his line of sight. He switched between degrading you and your ability to keep up with him and the men with you to just as quickly cat calling you and encouraging you to join him in camp.
There was a quickly built resentment towards him and his brother but the latter faded when you would catch Daryl defending you when he assumed you were out of earshot, at least the best he could without enraging his brother. 
He would tell him to leave you alone when he noticed his brother's hazy eyes zoning in on you like he wanted to approach or make a quick comment about how you were too young for him to be perving on you. All mild attempts to derail Merle’s small attention span but you appreciated the effort considering it was much more than the other men around camp would do and they didn’t have a reason to be cautious of the wild man like Daryl did.
That had all changed when Rick showed up and you felt a surge of hope as soon as you heard him addressing the group for the first time, solid and sturdy in his words even when he was allowing Shane to still bark the orders and have control.
You knew from the first day that you finally had somebody to take lead over your dire situation and you knew men like Merle Dixon would never bother you again.
No part of you thought Daryl was similar to his brother in any way but you still felt the same hurt regardless if it was intentional from his end. 
“C’mon.” He wasn’t giving you a response to what you had said and you were glad he hadn’t, much preferring the loud hum of the bike to help quiet your endless thoughts. 
This time he didn’t completely tense up when you were circling your hands around his waist and you were weirdly finding some comfort knowing he was with you when you thought back on those days at the quarry. Was there a different world where Daryl didn’t dislike you and kept up the protective streak he’d shown back then or was that sincerely a complete one off?
You wondered if it would be weird to ask him directly about what you had done to upset him, both bringing it to reality for the first time and also exposing yourself for caring way more than you should about what he thought.
It might have been an age thing that led you to not only not wanting to disappoint him but you found yourself actively wanting to impress him and catch his attention. Even an interested gaze rather than an annoyed one would probably make your day at this point and you found yourself ridiculous for the tenth time since you left the prison just a few hours ago.
There was the same urge in you when it came to Rick and Hershel, even Glenn occasionally although you looked towards him more as a brother while the latter two reminded you of that fatherly connection you’d always seeked out.
You felt warmed whenever Hershel checked in on you and softly told you to take better care of your health and you’d do just about anything Rick asked of you as long as it meant he was proud of you and felt you were a good addition to the group.
Your nose scrunched up at the thought of thinking towards Daryl in any type of fatherly way and you quickly scratched that idea off your endless boards of guesses.
Luckily he was pulling to a stop before you could jot down anything else in your mental notebook and you glanced around your surroundings for just a second before you were bracing your hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg over his bike, landing flat on your feet with a little groan.
The muscles in your thighs were tight from the stretch and constant tensing to brace yourself around turns and debris in the road and you imagine he was feeling a similar pain judging by the face he made when he roughly kicked the stand down to steady the bike.
You silently watched him as he covered it in light shrubbery, opting to stay out of his way and let him do whatever it was he felt like he needed. It was always simpler to wait for him to tell you what to do instead of doing it on your own and dealing with him getting angry and correcting you. 
He whistled lowly and started to walk away from you and you took the wordless cue easily, following behind with a hand on your knife holster and your eyes sharp to your surroundings. 
There was no amount of huffing and puffing from him that would make you think you were a liability out in nature. You didn’t have as quick of reflexes as he did and there was no way you’d ever catch up in terms of survival skills but you were good at handling yourself and extremely light on your feet.
Luckily there was a lack of complaints from him today as the two of you approached the small strip mall quietly and fast, half crouched in a way that made your knees ache as you followed behind him. 
He stopped too abruptly behind an abandoned car for you to notice and you bumped into his back, immediteyly reaching out in an attempt to steady him and he turned his head to glare at you over his shoulder. The walker growls in the distant stopped you from verbally apologizing but you hoped he could see it in your eyes.
That must have annoyed him enough that he decided you shouldn’t be behind him and out of sight, shaking your hands off of him before taking a few low steps back and nudging you forward.
You sighed at his clear lack of forgiveness but focused on the task at hand and made sure the area was clear before moving forward and finally reaching the buildings. You could see one of the windows were busted as you pushed yourself against the wall and you glanced at him once he reached you.
He was as close to you as he ever probably had been and you took a few seconds to watch the way his built chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths, shoulders pressed to yours and face blank as he glanced at you.
“Walkers.” You more mouthed the words than actually spoke and his gaze dropped to your lips.
You felt incredibly stupid and thrown off when you felt a heat rising to your cheeks at the action. You knew he was simply trying to read you lips and not looking at you for any other reason but your brain apparently decided today that you enjoyed the idea of him looking at you like that. 
It was probably the worst possible moment to be hit with the fact that you wanted him to think about you in that way, your entire body freezing up when you pieced together why exactly you yearned for his approval. It certainly wasnt fatherly at all because you apparently had a crush on Daryl Dixon.
“What the hell are you doing?” His raspy voice hissing at you defiantelty wasnt helping you in your moment of understanding but your eyes widened realizing he had been trying to tell you something while you were frozen. “C’mon girl, move.”
You were quick to nod your head to show him you processed the demand and then he was gone, turning the corner and pushing his way into the building. He must have had a good idea of how many walkers were inside and you werent sure if that was something he had figured out silently or if that was another piece of dialogue you had msised in your dilemma.
He didnt seem at all bothered while taking the three still up and walking around out and you watched him silently, not daring to get in the way when he was swinging his crossbow around and taking off heads. He was still breathing heavily when he turned to check on your whereabouts and this time you could see some anger beneath the exhaustion. 
The flush still on your cheeks was now being partnered with a heat in your gut and you realized just how fucked you actually were.
When had this happened and why did it take you so long to realize what this actually was? How did you manage to delude yourself into thinking it was normal that you were hanging off his every word and going over your small interactions dozens of times.
You’d even thrown on this hideously colored shirt thinking he might like it better than your normal wardrobe and you’d actually been upset when he hadn’t glanced twice at it earlier.
He was furrowing his eyebrows and you assumed he was half a second before asking you what the hell you were staring at but he didnt get a chance considering his eyes were darting over your shoulder with a look of panic that let you know exactly what he saw.
You didn’t even hear the growl of the walker behind you before you were gripping the handle of your knife and attempting to spin around but it was already too late and it was taking you to the ground so hard your head smacked against the old wood and your knife was being thrown somewhere too far for you to reach.
“Daryl.” Your voice was a high pitched screech as you desperately shot one hand out to attempt to grip anything that would allow you to kill the raging walker while your other one was pressed tightly around its shoulder to try and keep its clamping jaw away from your face.
It was so close you could hear the moisture in its mouth and feel its breath on your cheek, a whimper leaving you as you felt its hands on your body trying to find any soft bit of flesh to grip its claw into. 
The walker was falling limb ontop of you and although only a few seconds had passed since youd fallen, it felt like an hour of struggling with its strength and your entire life flashing before your eyes. You’d been in close call situations before but never something like this and you knew you would’ve been dead if Daryl hadn’t been here or even in the same room.
You were breathing heavily and shame hit you at the same time a heavy sob did, fully processing what almost just happened because you hadnt been paying attention to your surroundings. 
“Fuck.” Your voice was pained with a groan as you tried to life the waker off of you but it was large in size, possibly taller than Daryl and without a doubt heavier. It was lifted off of you as soon as you started to struggle and you were only half surprised to see his face looking down at you as he easily removed it.
For once he didn’t look cold or emotionless as he looked at you, a similar panic on his face as he crouched down beside you and scanned over your neck and face for any sign of a bite. 
You were about to reassure him that you hadn’t been bit but he was cutting you off by pushing your shirt halfway up your stomach, revealing so much bare skin that you felt almost shy even though you knew he was just checking you for scratches once he realized where the walker had its hands.
He didn’t dare touch your exposed stomach but his gaze was heated as he looked around your heaving ribs, pausing when he saw small pink marks on your waist.
“It’s okay right?” You sounded panicked as you sat up slightly to inspect it with him, your hand smoothing over the discoloration and feeling only a bit relieved when you didnt feel any signs of it being indented. “He just grabbed me tightly but he didn’t scratch.”
“Let’s go.” His voice was low and cold and he was standing halfway before gripping your forearm and tugging you up with him, starting to drag you towards the door.
You were frowning and shaking your head, looking back at your abandoned knife on the floor and placing a hand on the doorframe to stop him from pulling you. You knew he still easily could have removed you if he wanted but you both understood there was no way to get back on a motorcycle with an unwillingly particpant. 
It wasn’t as simple as throwing you in a car and shutting the door and your other hand came up to grab his wrist.
“We can’t leave.” Your voice was more pleading than argumentative, wanting him to see you were still willing and eager to follow his directions if it meant staying. “We haven’t even looked around yet. Theyre counting on us.”
“Nah. I’ll circle back tomorrow with Maggie.” He was steely in his answer and didn’t even seem to process what you were trying to tell him. He had clearly made up his mind and your eyes were desperate as you stared at him.
“I’m sorry for not paying attention.” It was your second time apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault and this seem to strike a particular nerve with him because he was fully turning towards you and letting go of your arm so he could point at you angrily. 
“You almost died, we’re leaving.” He was making a move for the door again and a wave of panic went through you, halfway thinking he might leave you there if you didn’t join him. He was leaving no room for argument and the look he gave you when you grabbed his shoulder made ice shoot through your veins.
He didn’t seem to understand why you couldn’t bare just leaving and going back to the prison empty handed. Did he not realize that there was nothing you feared more than disappointing your group members, not even a walker practically breathing down your throat could rattle you the way that could. 
His shoulders lost some of the tension when he saw the look on your face and you suddenly wanted to shout at him and ask him what his problem was, demand he tell you why he had been so endlessly cruel to you for so long. 
But now you were wondering if he actually had been or if you were simply throwing an internal fit because he didn’t give you an overt amount of attention, doubting your own reality now that you had fully accepted that you might have a stupid crush on the older man.
You had fresh tears joining your dried streaks now, cutting through the dirt on your face almost comically and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he couldn’t figure out how to comfort you right now or atleast make you stop crying.
Finally he was sighing and nodding his head so quick you almost missed it, pushing past you so he could venture further into the shop and silently let you know that you were getting what you wanted and continuing the run.
You made sure to push down any thoughts of him for the rest of the trip so you could focus on getting what you needed without endangering yourself again and you actually managed to get quite a big chunk of the stuff on the necessity list, even grabbing some extra fun things for Carl and a top you thought Beth might like. 
An hour or so had passed when Daryl made his way back to you and you could feel him watching you as you rifled through the clothing rack, not turning to face him and instead letting him approach you for once. 
“Suits you.” His light tone shocked you enough that you let go of the pink sleeve you were inspecting on the hanger. You had expected him to make a snide comment about you wasting time looking at clothes instead of finding something useful but apparently he had run out of the energy to argue with you.
“Because its childish?” You had humor in your voice with your response but it wasnt genuine, more so trying to deliver the punch line before he could. 
“Nah, just suits you.” He didn’t play into your accidental bait and you narrowed your eyes at him before sighing and pulling the pink sweater off the rack, dusting it off before dragging it over your head and the brown shirt you were wearing.
You figured you looked a bit puffy with the double layering and it was far too hot for the thick fabric but you held your hands out like you were presenting the outfit to him and although he didnt laugh, you thought you heard him lightly scoff at your display.
 
You finished stuffing your gifts for the others into your already full bag before joining him as he moved further into the large building, side by side as you followed the range of his flashlight with your eyes. 
“Why’re you wearing that shit anways?” He surpised you by still trying to make conversation and you starting to wonder if he had been the one to hit his head earlier, glancing at him just to find he was already watching you from the corner of his eye.
At first you thought he meant the sweater but you realized he meant your original outfit, heat once again rising to your cheeks when you pieced together that he had actually noticed your change in color scheme. 
You weren’t exactly sure how to explain that you had done it to appear more mature for him without making a complete fool of yourself so you opted for shrugging your shoulders and remaining silent, letting him figure it out for himself like you so often had to.
“Someone say something to you?” He paused in his stride and you turned back to look at him in confusion, furthering when you saw the twitch in his jaw and that same cold look in his eyes. This time it didn’t seem directed at you but that didn’t help you figure out the situation in the slightest. 
“Like what?” Your voice was still soft and almost a whisper, like you were guiding to him towards actually giving you an answer to something for once. Your head slightly titled and the movement made him take another step back for some reason, almost like he was afraid of you. “Like how I dress like a toddler? Or maybe something about being a walking signal for walkers?”
It almost took him a few seconds into your sentences to realize you were repeating back to him things he had said before, quick comments made in fits of anger that he clearly hadn’t thought you’d take to heart let alone remember word for word. You scoffed at his taken back reaction and nodded your head bitterly, tightening your grip on your backpack strap and moving towards the exit.
If he was bothered by you leaving him behind in the dark building then he didn’t show it on his face but you felt regret for doing it as soon as you were outside by yourself, standing next to his bike impatiently and waiting for him to join you. 
Thunder cracked in the distance as soon as his foot hit the dirt and both of you paused to look at eachother, dread growing in you knowing what he was thinking before he even had to say it.
You were groaning loudly and lugging your stuff back inside, bumping his shoulder on your way in. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to ride home that long with a storm coming so you had no choice but to spend the night in the same building you had nearly died in a few hours prior with a man who wanted nothing to do with you.
He was outside for atleast thirty minutes and you figured he was hiding his bike somewhere more secure or possibly checking the perimeter now that you were going to be letting your guards down a bit to get some rest.
You could hear rain drops hitting the windows before he came back inside and although they were light, you knew he must be getting damp out there. You sighed as you made your way to the clothing racks to find him something to dry to wear, telling yourself you were only doing the kind gesture because you were restless.
“Y/N?” His voice was loud and panicked when he closed the door behind him, not seeing you anywhere near the entrance and finding your bag left behind on the floor. “Damn it.”
Your eyes rolled when he initally called your name and you almost planned to ignore him but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to be unnecessarily rude so you gathered the clothes and headed back towards the front.
His body relaxed slightly when he saw you coming out of the dark but he froze again when his gaze dropped down to the fabric in your hands, watching you as you got so close your boots touched before you were pushing it against his wet chest and raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll catch a cold playing in the rain like that.” You let your tone be slightly mocking but it was lighthearted enough that he wouldn’t bother taking offense at you making fun of him for staying outside. He mumbled a thank you but didn’t stop staring down at you.
You wondered if he was slightly flattered by you doing such a domestic act for him or if he didn’t care at all, deciding on the former so you could let yourself have atleast one small win after such a rough day. You cleared your throat before turning around and allowing him some privacy while changing. 
Picking up on him moving a few more feet away, you entire body was still flushing when you heard the telltale signs of him changing clothes. 
There was a large part of you that tried to squeeze your eyes closed and think of something totally unrelated but the smaller portion won by a landslide and you let yourself think about what he might look like without clothes on. 
You were no stranger to the sight of his arms, large and rippling with muscle everytime he drew his crossbow or swung his knife. You knew he was older and more mature than boys you had been with before the fall, most likely with hair trailing down his stomach where they had been smooth and rounder around the sections of his ribs.
Your fidgeting was extremely apparent to anybody in the room and you were unlucky enough that it was just the two of you.
In no time Daryl was mumbling that you were good to turn around and moving to start a small enough fire that it wouldn’t reach the high ceiling and could be ventilated through the broken windows. You ignored the sight of his messy and damp hair falling into his eyes and especially forgot about how much your chest heaved at the way he looked in the clothes you’d picked for him.
It wasn’t much different from what he would usually wear, you had made sure of that so he wouldn’t reject your gesture but you simply found it notable that it was something you had picked for him. 
A few more hours were passing of you sitting in silence and listening to the rain outside for any sign of it stopping, grateful when he finally sighed and pulled out the little food you had packed, seemingly accepting your fate of staying overnight. 
The sun had long set by the time he was clearing his throat like he was going to finally say something and your eyes met his across the fire, holding the gaze tightly so he didn’t change his mind.
“Sorry about before.” He shocked you even more with the words coming from his mouth and your eyebrows raised, your arms wrapped around your knees where you’d been resting your head before he spoke. 
You weren’t sure what exactly he was trying to apologize for, the list of possible offenses longer than you think he even realized. You imagined it was between trying to make you abandon the run and you bringing up what he had said about the way you dressed, maybe a mix of both so he could kill two awkward birds with one big hesitant stone like apology. 
“It’s all good.” You were shrugging and you wondered if he at all cared that you had lost your usual friendly tone in favor of mimicking his cold and emotionless one. “Kinda my fault anyways, always trying to get your attention.”
You don’t know why you said it and you were even more confused why you didn’t immediately want to take it back. Maybe saying it out loud could make you feel better but you imagined you’d be wishing you saved it for a kinder audience like Maggie and Beth whenever he responded to you. 
Braving a look in his direction, you softly laughed seeing the confusion on his face. He almost looked a bit hurt and guarded like he thought you might be making fun of him which you didn’t fully understand why he would go to that conclusion.
“You don’t have to pretend you didn’t notice Daryl.” You were smiling softly now and although you were mostly baiting him, the pink on your cheeks was still very much real.
Truthfully, you hadn’t assumed that he had caught onto your crush on him because you barely had until now and Daryl didn’t seem to be the type of man that went around guessing when people liked him. 
Infact he seemed the most thrown off guard you’d ever seen him when he realized what you were trying to say and the red on his cheeks was almost enough to rival yours. You coughed just to fill the silence when you accepted he wasn’t planning to respond to you and you tried to ignore the deafening sounds of his shifting in place. 
The two of you stayed silent until the fire started to die out and by then you were laying on your back, staring up on the ceiling and bringing you could feel to rain falling down on you. It was heavy by now and you figured the storm was directly above you at this point, almost thankful for the thunder and lightning as it masked the sounds of Daryl’s light breathing.
He was laying down too and despite him being on the other side of the fire, it still managed to feel strangely intimate. 
It was likely that he was closer lying in the cell next to yours on the nights he decided it was better than the perch but now there was no stone wall between you and you could see the outline of his face whenever you turned your head to see if he had fallen asleep yet. 
The darkness was making it hard to see from that distance but the light of the fire was just visible enough for you to catch the fact he was glancing over at you too and you quickly looked away. You were firm in your stare at the ceiling now and you hoped the feeling of his eyes on you still was just your imagination. 
“I like the pink.” His voice was breaking through the silence but not loud enough to be completely jarring, low and whispered like he didn’t want to disturb you with the confession. Maybe he didn’t want you to hear him at all. “Meant it, it suits you.”
“You don’t think I look ridiculous?” You were teasing him now and it was obvious, your voice light and gentle again. 
“Nah, never did. Just an asshole.” His flat voice made you snort a laugh and you could have sworn you heard him chuckling in return. You stayed quiet for a bit longer and tried to find a way to not place meaning behind what he was telling you. 
It could be as simple as him not wanting any bad blood between the two of you considering you had to live together for most likely the rest of your lives, regardless if that was days or years. Or maybe he had felt bad about hurting your feelings because Daryl certainly wasn’t cruel for no reason and you knew he had a better heart than most, even if it took seeing you reduced to tears to finally apologize.
“I almost died today.” Your voice was still soft but for different reasons now and you turned to look at him again, wincing when you noticed he’d gone rigid. He was resting his head on one of his arms and the other was palm down on his stomach, moving lightly with every breath he took. “After all this time I think I forgot that I could. Maybe it’s good to get a reminder.”
He didn’t say anything for a while again and you almost wanted to sigh even though you just knew it was in his nature to not speak much. You actually liked that about him on any other day, he was easy to read when he wanted to be and he wore his emotions on his sleeve if you paid enough attention which apparently you did. 
“Not gonna let that happen.” Sometimes he said things that made you wish he wouldn’t speak because you werent sure how you were supposed to take him saying something like that. You had practically spelled out the fact you liked him a few hours ago and now he was declaring to personally keep you alive. 
“You cant know that.” You had decided to sit up before you finished speaking, wanting to feel more in control of the conversation even if it meant being able to see him more clearly now that you could easily see him over the fire. 
“Be alot easier if you stayed at the damn prison.” He sounded annoyed again but you could tell it wasn’t actually directed at you in a meaningful way. 
“Is that why you keep telling Rick I shouldn’t go on runs?” You hadnt even realized you came to that conclusion until you were asking it and you suddenly felt very stupid for thinking that he had been doubting your survival skills all this time. Although it wasnt solely your fault because you wouldve agreed alot easier to stay back if you knew he was simply worried about you. “Why didnt you tell me that?”
He scoffed like your question was ridiculous and now it was your turn to be annoyed with him. You were standing from your spot on the floor and moving over to him, sitting beside where he was still laying flat. This was probably the closest youd ever been to him intentionally not to mention this most likely being your longest conversation to date but he was finally giving you some answers now. 
“Wouldn’t matter anyways now would it. Too damn stubborn.” He sounded completely bored by your conversation and your mouth dropped at him vaguely confirming that he had been trying to keep you back to protect you. 
“I thought you hated me.” You practically squeaked it out and suddenly he seemed alot more alert, turning his head to look at you fully and clearly trying not to pay attention to how close you were sitting. 
You were on your knees next to him and your hands slapped down onto your thighs dramatically with an almost manic laugh as your entire point of view shifted. 
“Why would I hate you?” He asked it like the thought genuinely hadnt crossed his mind and you could have screamed in frustration. 
“Then why-” You thought of all of his heated glances and the way he avoided touch from you specifically, teasing remarks about the smallest details of how you dressed and now the added fact that he hadn’t wanted you to face the dangers of going on runs especially ones he wasn’t going on. “Oh my god, you have a crush on me.”
You should have felt ridiculous for the way you were practically gleaming with realization as you pointed at him like you had cracked open a decade long cold case. He raised an eyebrow at you and your theatrics before he was scoffing and looking back up at the roof like the conversation wasn’t making his heart race. 
“Ain’t got a crush.” He felt almost shy saying the word and thankfully you were close enough to see the way his flush had returned tenfold and the fidgeting of his hands against the vest he’d thrown back over the shirt you picked for him.
“But you like me?” You were overdoing it now but you felt almost drunk with giddiness now that you knew he hadn’t been icing you out all along. Daryl was simply just shy and clearly terrible at showcasing when he had feelings for somebody but you almost couldn’t blame him considering you’d nearly died seconds after realizing it for yourself. “You think I’m totally cute.”
Now you were really pushing it and he brought his gaze back to you just to make sure you could see the exasperation in his expression although now you were so high on the accidental confession you were tricking yourself into thinking he looked fondly amused.
“I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, why didn’t you just-” You were just starting to question his lack of forwardness but you silently answered it for yourself before you even finished. “Oh.”
You’d somehow manage to forget that there was easily twenty years between you and Daryl, if not more than that (you didn’t think now was a good time to ask him exactly how old he was). He looked almost sheepish now that you seemed to recall this obvious fact and you could tell he had thought about it alot more than you had.
A quietness took over the room again and you halfway noted that it sounded like the rain had finally started to slow to a stop. You were shifting in place and adjusting yourself in a way that you could more comfortably lean forward to practically force him to look at you.
“I don’t think it matters.” You were whispering now like somebody was going to overhear you and now his glare actually had some real heat behind it.
“Like hell it don’t.” He sounded frustrated that you were even talking about it let alone attempting to pretend it wasn’t an issue.
Now you were truly curious how long he had been thinking about this and it suddenly made alot more sense to you why he constantly seemed to be avoiding you. Not out of anger towards you but possibly towards the fact there was no world in which he could be with you in that way.
“I wouldn’t tell anybody.” You immediately regretting saying it as soon as you saw the way he froze up, the words being whispered into the air painting a much different tone than you had originally intended. 
It made it sound like it was some dirty secret you would need to keep due to how wrong it was but you had meant it genuinely, wanting him to know you’d be okay with taking your time letting the others know until it was something even worth noting. 
Now you truly felt like you’d gone crazy because what were you even talking about here? Did he have real feelings for you or was it just basic lust for a younger girl wandering around in pink tanktops, did it even matter regardless considering how disgusted he seemed now?
He was sitting up with a grunt and rising to his feet, giving you one last glare before he was storming outside with a mumble about needing a smoke. You stayed there on the floor staring at where his body had just been and a wave of shame washed over you.
You tried to calm yourself by thinking that you could fix it once he came back inside and relaxed a little, giving you a second to explain what you meant and what you had been thinking. You didn’t want him to see you as some stupid little girl that couldn’t keep her mouth shut. 
Daryl took this plan and crushed it considering he didn’t ever come back in and you laid there staring at the body of the walker who had almost killed you earlier, watching it until you managed to fade off into a nearly restless sleep while he sat outside and counted down the minutes until you could leave.
----
The next morning couldn’t have been more awkward if you tried.
You’d practically thrown yourself outside when you had waken up and didn’t see him still, stumbling onto the dirt with your eyes wide with panic. You looked towards the bush where his bike had been and felt your throat tighten at the realization he had actually left you there.
Then you heard shuffling behind you and whipped around to see him watching you from the treeline, half concerned and half blank like he couldn’t decide which side of him to show you now. 
Your half awake brain slowly remembered that he had moved his bike before the storm last night and you could tell by the line of something furry over his shoulder that he had been out hunting before you started to head home. 
You could guess by where the sun sat in the sky that he had actually let you sleep in a bit and suddenly you were itching to get back to the prison, hand to your forehead as you made your way back in silently to gather your stuff and head back out. 
You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so distressed over the thought of being left alone but you figured you were way past the point of return with the amount of humiliating things that had happened in the last 24 hours so it didn’t really matter. 
There was no overestimating how bad it felt to climb onto the back of his bike and wrap your arms around him for endless hours while also knowing he most likely wanted to be as far away from you as possible right now.
The sight of the prison would normally leave a slight distaste in your mouth but right now it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and it only got better when you saw a familiar head of blonde hair near the gates, clearly hearing the sounds of the bike and waiting for your arrival.
You felt a rush of emotion seeing your friend and you were rushing off the bike before he even had time to steady himself, meeting her halfway in a hug and trying to ignore how weird your reaction seemed to anybody else. You had only been gone a night but it felt like an entire year had passed in that building. 
She was quick to make small talk as you headed in together and you were grateful for the distraction, glancing behind your shoulder back at him only to look away quickly when you found him already looking. 
It wasn’t until you were hidden behind the walls of your cell that you let the frown take over your expression and Beth faltered in her ramblings, watching your shoulders slump as you threw your bag carelessly in the corner. 
“Oh honey. I know that expression.” You hadn’t even realized Maggie was standing in the entryway of your cell until you heard her warm voice full of concern and pity. Beth sent her a curious glance and she sighed softly. “She’s heartbroken.”
“You told him?” Beth gasped the words loudly and both you and Maggie rushed to shush her, your hands covering her mouth while her sister moved fully into the cell like the sheet covering the doorway behind her would at all mask the sound of your gossip.
“You knew?” You were already frustrated and it was obvious in your tone, looking between the two of them with an accusatory glare that they matched with confusion. “You both knew this entire time?”
“You didn’t?” Maggie seemed genuinely perplexed by what you were saying and you suddenly were hit with how crazy you must have sounded.
You had spend the better part of the last few months ranting to them about every little interaction with the man and it was apparently clear to everybody but yourself and Daryl that you had feelings for him. 
There was a brief silence before you were delving into what had happened and doing your best to not leave out any details so you could get their opinions and advice on where to go from here. Beth cringed when you got to the part about not telling anybody and Maggie rolled her eyes when you mentioned Daryl had slept outside to avoid having to talk to you again.
“Is it really that bad?” Beth seemed almost bashful to ask the question and you both knew what she was talking about. 
You weren’t really sure how to answer her because although young, you were still very much an adult and capable of making your own decisions but you also wouldn’t be able to fully blame somebody who found you and Daryl together to be distasteful. Beth was still a few years younger than you and you had a hard time picturing her with anybody that age when she was closer to you and Maggie’s maturity.
“You’re a grown woman Y/N.” Maggie seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as you had or maybe she just wanted to encourage her friend towards something she knew would make her happy. “Least he could do is talk to you.”
That seemed to light a new found fire in you and after a few more words of encouragement you were storming off to go and find Daryl.
It took a fair bit of time to track him down but eventually you were led back to the maintenance room in the newly cleared portion of the prison, heart beating faster as you walked through the dimly lit hallways. You felt relieved when you could hear his voice coming from one of the rooms but then annoyance surge through you again.
“I’m a grown ass woman.” You were sure you looked ridiculous as you pushed through the door and looked at him angrily, pointing a finger in his direction and feeling slightly smug when you saw how caught off guard he looked for once. 
Then his eyes were trailing behind you and for a second you were reminded of the way he had looked before the walker attacked, spinning around just to see Rick and Glenn staring at you like you had grown two heads. Theyd never seen you so amped up before and the latter looked like he almost wanted to laugh. 
You were sure Maggie had filled him in to some extent about your situation with Daryl and your neck felt hot with embarrassment, something that was happening far too often for your liking.
“Sorry.” You felt sheepish as you glanced at Rick who looked half disapproving and half amused. “Can I talk to Daryl?”
Now he had something else passing over his face but you weren’t really sure what to make of it, even more confused when they locked eyes over your shoulder before Rick was raising an eyebrow and giving a slow nod. He barely looked at you as they left and you couldn’t tell if that made you feel better or worse. 
You were turning back towards the source of your anger but now all of your fight had been lost and all you could do was sigh as you looked at him.
“Can you atleast talk to me?” You found yourself simply repeating exactly what Maggie had told you and you felt prematurely defeated when you saw the closed off look in his eye.
“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” He was quick to dismiss you completely and you were thankful you were standing between him and the door because it looked like he was seconds from running away just to avoid you again. 
“There is Daryl and you know there is.” You didn’t care that you sounded desperate as you called his name and his eyes bore harder into yours when he heard it falling from your lips, only watching you as you took a few steps closer to him. “What’s so wrong about you liking me?”
He wasn’t going to say it, place a name to exactly what the problem would be because he knew you were already aware. You could tell he was growing frustrated that you kept pushing him about it especially when he clearly had done a good job at ignoring it although that included making you feel like shit.
“Liking eachother.” You changed your wording around to make sure you included yourself this time, wanting to remind him the feeling was mutual. 
You weren’t sure if it had the affect you wanted but you were taking a few more hesitant steps forward like you were approaching a wild animal, stopping when you were close enough to be able to put your hand on his chest.
It was the first time you were touching him like that without needing a real reason to and he seemed more affected than you’d seen him be yet, breath noticeably shorting as his eyes started to frantically dart around your face.
You wished so desperately you were able to read his mind and question what it was that was holding him back so much, especially when you were out of sight from everybody else and the judgement they possibly could cast onto you.
 
Apparently you weren’t subtle and the look Rick had given him earlier almost seemed like he had been as aware of your situation as Maggie was and there was no public outcry, no pulling you away and scolding you for having your hand on his chest and your eyes moving from his lips to his eyes. 
For a second it felt like the volume had been turned off in the room until he was finally moving his gaze down too and suddenly it all came rushing back, able to hear your own heartbeat mixing with his and the pace of his breathing slowing down. 
It wasn’t until he kissed you that the sound died out again, filled in by the rush in your heart and raindrops in the distance.
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strawberryhoney11 · 16 days ago
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ONLY ANGEL ౨ৎ
Drew Starkey x Reader
You are just making your way into the industry, interviewing on red carpets and your podcast. When your interview with Drew Starkey goes viral, suddenly everything changes.
part two!!
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You stepped out of the hotel shower, drying your hair with one of the soft fancy towels and adorned in a robe. It was the morning after the big event and you were still buzzing from everything that happened. Madelyn Cline told you she had been obsessed with your videos for a while now and found you to be so cool. When you first heard this you couldn’t believe it, you were still shocked even now.
Suddenly, your phone chimes from the other room and you pull it off of the white sheets.
Have you been on TikTok?
You received a message from your best friend from college, as you still keep in touch today. It was like she was experiencing this all with you, becoming the version of yourself you had always envisioned.
No. Just woke up, why?
GIRL, your vid with Drew Starkey is blowing up…
What? Really?
Immediately, you open up the app. Sure enough, there are thousands of notifications in your inbox all for the same video. Thinking back on your interaction with Drew made you have the same nervous pit in your stomach. You found yourself questioning if it actually happened. But this video was proof and the recognition you were receiving was hard to ignore.
You opened the comments on the paused video, unable to bring yourself to listen to your voice or watch yourself flail around in front of Drew.
Drew is crazy for the “I’ll be waiting”
This girl is living my dream…
THIS FEELS ILLEGAL TO WATCH LIKE HELLO
The comments only speed up your heartbeat. Everyone seems to think that you and Drew have chemistry. As much as it rattles you, it also confirms that it wasn’t all in your head. You felt it, just as much as all of these people. Could this mean that he felt something too?
SORRY did he just grab her microphone???
She's better than me because if that man was in front of me…
The wave at the end would have had me on my knees
OH I love this for her!
WHO IS THIS GIRL AND WHY IS DREW FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR HER?
You can’t help but laugh as you read the responses. The fact that everyone thinks you actually have a shot with him is amusing to you. You eventually have to set your phone down instead of scrolling continuously.
But when you hear another chime, this time from Instagram, you have to see what it is. Your breath catches as you read who it is from, Madelyn Cline. She DM’d you! Your eyes grew wide as you stared at the message.
Hi! I would love to invite you out with the cast and me tonight! Would you be interested?
You didn’t know if you were stuck in a dream or hallucinating. This was insane. You thought that the biggest opportunity you had ever gotten was to interview the cast on the red carpet but now you weren’t so sure. With this invitation, you had to bring your hand over your mouth to stop an excited scream from escaping.
Oh my gosh, hi! I would be so glad to take you up on your offer! Thank you!
You hit send on the message, exhaling a breath of excitement. She answered right away.
Awesome! We’re having dinner at this really nice place and maybe going to a bar afterwards. I’ll send the details!
Thank you, again! I feel so honored.
Of course! All of us girls are excited to hang out with you and don’t worry, you won’t be the only person invited who isn’t a part of the show. So, no pressure!
Oh okay, good! Can’t wait!
You shut your phone off, falling back onto the bed sheets, your wet hair draped across the duvet. All of this excitement and nerves had your stomach twisted in knots, but you couldn’t complain. This was something straight out of a movie. You thought this couldn’t possibly be your life, but it is. These things just didn’t happen to girls like you.
You draped your arm over your eyes, breathing out a laugh.
Another notification popped up on your phone, you held it in front of you in the morning light.
*Drew Starkey Started Following You
You dropped your phone by your side, audibly exclaiming now. This was a lot to take in, in the few hours after you woke up. This was crazy. Drew knows who you are and he now follows you on Instagram.
What more could a girl ask for?
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lizziesribbons · 2 months ago
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Part 1 | seeing her for the first time
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PAIRING: BEST FRIEND'S MOM! WANDA X FEM! READER
summary: you had no idea visiting your college bestfriend's hometown for the first time would put a women in your life that would either ruin your life or be the love of your life. Stay tuned to find out.
warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** ****CONTAINS SMUT LOTS OF SMUT****** fluff, legal age difference (r is 21, Wanda is 42), angst, homophobia, wanda is religious, church visits alot of them with Wanda, Wanda is divorced because I absolutely hate cheating it disgusts me I hate vision but I hate cheating more. Mentions of domestic abuse, mommy issues, parental control and alot of family issues.
Author's note: this is the first chapter so it might be a bit of everything idk I need a good base uh anyways y'all know my first language isn't English so bear with me ALSO half of this is projecting I'm literally writing what happened to me irl the only part fictional is me meeting an older women unfortunately that wasn't the case but I absolutely love my bestfriend's mom she's such a sweetheart I miss her alot :( I haven't met her ever since me and my bsf grew apart been a year I think
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Going to your best friend's hometown for the summer wasn't your first option but you didn't really have a choice since your family disowned you after you came out to them during last year summer after your first year at college, it was your second year now and you've still been in no contact with them you occasionally talk to your sister every once in a while since she's the only one who accepts the fact that being gay isn't anything out of the ordinary
So here you were driving in your old ass jeep your grandparents gifted you on your birthday behind your parent's back, you loved it alot even though you were the only person who were able to drive it since anyone else couldn't figure it out even if they wanted to save their life.
"my mom just called she's excited to see you, says she's glad I'm bringing a friend she has been bored alot" your bestfriend carlee says pulling you out of your thoughts. "Oh" you say breathing out and shaking your head to pull yourself out of the trance you were apparently in, "uh yeah I'm excited to see her too. What did you say her name was? I didn't catch it" you ask her your eyes still on the road "Wanda" carlee says with her mouth full of potato chips, "Wanda? That's pretty- carlee I swear to god if you drop any chips in here." you say with concern "I won't! See I'm not a little kid" she says in defence "just be careful." you drive in silence, carlee's mouth sounds the only sound in the car.
"why is your name carlee" you ask after a few minutes "what the fuck is that supposed to mean" she says her eyebrows furrowing and you chuckle and say, "I mean why and who named you there must be a meaning cuz your name makes 0 sense with Wanda's", "I'm still confuse on what that means but anyways my mom didn't name me my dad did he didn't really give mom an option to name me, says it was his first love's name and he wants to cherish her" she says softly, "Oh what a dick" your face in disgust as carlee laughs loudly "he was, I mean he is he still is I'm glad mom divorced him" she says sighing "yeah? I bet he was" you say to her sadly "well atleast we can bond over our crazy insane dads you know" carlee chuckles lighting the mood as you laugh with her, "hey you want something there's a cafe coming up I think" you ask Carlee "yeah sure I can enjoy a coffee right now" she says as you pull over "no coffee carlee we're still 4 hours away and you will eat my brain if I let you stay up just eat something and go to sleep besides you've already had 4 cups of coffee and it's literally only 2PM." you hear carlee groan as you talk "You're not my mom you know" she says throwing draggers at you "Oh sure like I literally don't make you breakfast every morning" you roll your eyes at her "Oh shutup" carlee throws her head back as you get out of the car and shout lightly "I'll bring you something to eat just wait here okay" with that you head off inside after 19 minutes you come back inside the car with a paper bag in your hand, you drop it in carlee's lap "here eat please all you've had all day is potato chips and coffee" you say with obvious concern, carlee smiles at you "god you're so sweet it's sickening sometimes I love you" carlee says rummaging through the bag as you start driving again "yeah sure" you say laughing after eating your snacks and lots of laugh and talks carlee falls asleep as you peacefully drive, the car ride after that didn't feel that long you reached her hometown at 6:37 you wake her up so she can guide you to her house after a 10 minute drive you pull up at a beautiful house, calling it a house would be an understatement it was more of a villa even though it wasn't even that big it was just built so beautifully. You knew carlee was rich even though she never showed off or bragged about it, it was obvious, she was the kind of person who's help you could recieve gladly without feeling small because she never made you feel small you were always an equal to her "your house is gorgeous" you say breathing out "yeah? My mom got an eye for architecture she made the blueprint herself" carlee says clearly proud of her mom, you say with shock getting out of the car after parking it in a respectful setting "your mom? That's impressive" you say looking at the house in awe "wait till you see the inside girl cuz I was flabbergasted too." carlee says chuckling as you walk up to the front door
Carlee rings the bell and you hear footsteps approaching the door, you had to hold your breath so you couldn't scream as you see Wanda walk out her face beaming with happiness as she saw carlee and hug her. She was perfect actually. Angelic even you could she was an angel herself. Before you could process it she hugs you and you melt in her arms "you must be y/n carlee has been speaking about you non stop" you can carlee became friends after your family disowned you she saw you crying outside of your class one day and approached you, ever since then she have been your ride or die. "yeah uh I I am nice to meet you miss maximoff" you say softly and nervously fidgeting with your shirt, you were sure you were sweating right now and hoped to god carlee and Wanda don't notice.
"well come in darlings I've been waiting for you I thought y'all were coming yesterday" Wanda says rushing you both into the house, you were in awe when you saw the inside it just felt like home it was so beautiful and gorgeous it was like walking into a warm embrace "yeah mom we had some work to-" you cut carlee off and look at Wanda "your house is beautiful miss maximoff" "Oh please it's Wanda no need for formalities and thankyou I'm glad you like it" she says, her arm around Carrey as she looks at you softly smiling "mom I'm really really really tired do you mind if we rest a bit?" carlee says looking up at Wanda, carlee was short even shorter than you, Wanda was probably a feet taller than carlee and atleast 6 inches from you. "sure sweetheart go on your room is all ready I made the bed first thing when I woke up and y/n your room is beside carlee's I set up the guest room as carlee told me you'd like but it's okay if you wanna sleep in carlee's room too" she says patting your shoulder, you could've sworn she looked you up and down and checked you out but you just shrugged it off as you being tired "you didn't have to miss maxi- Wanda but thankyou so much" you say looking up and softly smiling "I'll unload the bags from the car just give me the keys you both go and rest" she says already taking the keys from your hand "wait I can help" you say walking behind "no worries you just go and rest okay?" she pushed you towards the already sleepy carlee and go outside, you grab carlee's hand and ask her to lead you to the room "Oh come on you're so ridiculous you slept for 4 hours already" you say laughing at her as she acts sleepwalking "so what sleeping is fun" she says lazily "just show me my room and I'll get off your ass ho" you say to her as she guides you to the room "thankyou" you say rushing to the room and dropping on the bed you let out a huge breath you didn't know you were holding. God Wanda is beautiful you thought to yourself how can someone be this pretty? Is it wrong to find your bestfriend's mom this gorgeous and attractive but you couldn't help yourself she's just so perfect, you slept thinking of her.
After 2 hours there's a knock on your door, you stir awake "yeah?" you say in a sleepy voice "hey sweetheart it's Wanda can I come in?" you were wide awake now. "yeah come in" you quickly fix yourself and sit up in the bed "hey I just woke carlee up, fresh up dinner is ready carlee is downstairs just freshen up and come down okay?" she says in that angelic voice of hers, god you could listen to her for hours- no, y/n don't do that don't think about it that's wrong but she looks so sexy right now in just simple jeans and button up shirt "yeah I'll be down in 5 minutes Wanda" you say quickly covering up your nervous state you rush to the bathroom.
After 5 minutes you come downstairs and see Wanda and carlee on the dinner table waiting for you, how will you survive 3 months if you can't even walk straight infront of her?.
To be continued
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mrskokushibo · 8 months ago
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Warnings: Sex, Smut, NSFW, MDNI, 18+, Funny
Summary: It gets both steamy and funny when you manage to rile up Sanemi. And the man really has a short fuse. Modern AU.
A/N: For all you MHA fans, you are welcome to replace Sanemi with aged-up Bakugo. I can almost hear his voice in Sanemi's lines.
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Masterlist
The afternoon was going well until you made the fatal decision to go to the arcade. It was ages since you both last been and the silly in you wanted to try if it was as much fun as you remembered it to be. At first, Sanemi was enjoying himself but very soon things went south. You were winning, time after time, beginner luck at first, but when your winning streak continued, he was no longer able to contain his frustration.
‘This shit is rigged. How the fuck can you be winning all the time?’
You laughed impulsively.
‘Seriously Nemi, how can it be rigged? Do you think I am in cahoots with the owner?’
Your grin became vicious and you lowered your voice into a conspiratorial whisper while leaning closer to him.
‘Maybe I slept with him to get ahead?’ You followed this with a wink.
He was not amused. He glared at you pursing his lips and continued the game.
‘Fuck. How do you do it?’ He almost growled out after losing yet again.
You shrugged and gave him an innocent but triumphant smile, and even did a little victory dance. And…you shouldn’t have.
‘Enough! We are going. This was not a good idea and I am not coming back here again.’
You giggled and put your hand into his as you began walking out of the noisy arcade.
The cool evening air and your mild hand softened his mood and by the time you came back home, he was seemingly fine. But, once on the sofa, his eyes flared up in vicious intent.
‘Let’s play Battlefield. I bet you can’t beat me there.’
It was his favourite online shooter that you only played a handful of times. You did not take to it and, to be honest, you weren't interested in gaming that much anyway.
‘Yeah, whatever. But don’t you just want to watch a movie and cuddle?’ You asked with a flirtatious smile.
‘We can do that later.’ He was already pulling out the controllers and logging in to the online portal.
He passed you the controller and a few moments later you were moving through a village in the middle of a desert, first-person view of your surroundings, trying to avoid or shoot the enemy. For each time Sanemi got shot and revived, you stayed alive and kicking. When you quickly glanced at him, his jaw was tensed and his eyes had that half-insane focused look in them.
‘Nemi, you are taking this far too seriously.’
‘This is serious.’ He barked out, which caused you to burst out laughing.
He paused the game and looked at you. A long, drawn-out, crazy stare. “If looks could kill” was probably the best description of what was being projected from his light-purple pupils.
‘Relax, babe.’ You put your hand on his thigh and began riding up to his groin. ‘Let me help you.’
You cooed and started rubbing him through his jeans, the bulge slowly growing from your treatment. He was alternating staring at you and down at your hand.
‘Do you really think I am some primitive gorilla that can be pacified with sex?’ He was seething with increasing irritation.
‘No, of course not, I don’t think that. Why would I?’ You cocked your head and smiled, biting your lip while continuing to rub his now quite prominent hardness.
‘Fuck you.’
‘Yes, fuck me, Nemi… ‘
This was followed by a moment of silence after which he suddenly growled quietly and flipped you over on your stomach.
‘Alright, I will fuck you. But don’t say you didn’t ask for it. Because I don’t intend on holding back.’
You bit your lip in anticipation. You liked it when he was rough, but it would probably piss him off even more to know that right now you wanted him to be exactly that, heavy-handed. So instead, you just lay still, tiny, pinching, shivers running down your spine as his hands touched your ass and began pulling up your skirt. 
His hand disappeared momentarily, and the sound of his zipper being pulled down sent even more electricity up your spine. He grunted as you could hear him get up and pull down his trousers. And then he was back at you, slapping your ass repeatedly, you moaning in response.
‘Now, bitch, I will show you who is boss here.’ He rubbed you to excessive wetness and began pressing his cock into you, without much consideration for positioning himself properly. He was too eager to be tough.
‘Nemi, that’s my other hole. You need to reposition.’
‘Argh! You don’t need to tell me what to do. I know what I am doing.’
He shifted and slammed into you, missing your opening entirely and burrowing himself into the sofa. He was so consumed with the combination of rage and arousal that he managed to give the sofa a few hard thrusts.
‘Babe, you are not inside.’
‘Stop talking. I know I am not.’
‘Should I assist you? In finding the hole? It’s like pinball, you know..’ You giggled. You could not help yourself to make the arcade allusion, because his reactions were simply too entertaining.
‘Do you think I’m funny, huh? Let’s see if you think this is funny then.’
This time around, he pumped his fingers into your pussy, positioned himself correctly, and slammed into you causing you to gasp.
 ‘How do you like this?’
‘I like it.’
His bare teeth were now grazing up your back and finished up on the side of your neck, the proximity of his warm, strong body causing you to clench a little extra. His breath was near your mouth and he hissed in a raspy voice:
‘Brace yourself, fuckdoll.’ You loved it when he called you that.
He kept his proximity to you and started to hammer his hips into the softness of your ass. You were a little shaken as his pace increased. Your breath started to sync with his thrusts, but he kept it up so fast you were left gasping for air. He pushed deeper and harder until you were whimpering from his force.
He then pushed the whole length of his cock into you, and you could feel the head pushing at your cervix. The pain and pleasure sent shivers throughout your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably now, and you could feel your pussy start to gush. He continued his thrusting as if you weren't even there. Your knees were about to buckle, but he pulled you up again by the waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, and started his relentless thrusting once again.
You could barely breathe, and you were starting to see stars, the only sounds you could hear were your own heartbeat, his ragged breathing, and the sound of his cock driving into your soaked pussy. You started to lose consciousness, your vision narrowing to a point.
‘Nemi, I’m coming.’ You whimpered out as the familiar feeling of needing to pee was turning into a full-blown climax accompanied by your pussy gushing like a fountain.
As you slipped into a blissful abyss, his cock finally erupted and released the thick, white cum that had been building up. It coated your womb and dripped out onto the sofa. His breathing started to slow down, and he released his grip on your waist. Your legs gave out, and you slumped forward, resting your head on the soft cushions.
He grabbed his sweatshirt off the floor and cleaned himself and your leaking pussy. He then pulled you upright and wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder. You placed a hand on his head and caressed his hair.
‘Are you calm again now, my dear?’ You whispered into his ear.
‘I was never agitated. What are you implying? That I lost control?’ Irritation was beginning to simmer up in him again. You let out a giggle. You could feel him tense up behind you, and his hands went for your throat. You tried to get away, but his grip tightened.
'What's so funny, hmm?'
You struggled to get out a few words. 'Nemi...please.' You begged.
'Please what, slut?' He replied, his grip getting tighter.
Your head was going fuzzy again, but his grip was not tight enough to make you black out. He was not a monster, after all, and besides, you did enjoy it, your juices running down your leg from his grip on your delicate flesh. You felt his cock growing stiff again. He really was insatiable. He let go of your throat and turned you around. He sat down on the sofa and pulled you into his lap.
'Now, we need to get a few things straight, doll. If I am going to continue to put with you, then you are going to need to understand that I am the one in control here, do you understand?' This was his usual way of asserting himself, that never really worked on you other than make your pussy drip.
‘Just like you were in control of the game controllers just a moment ago?’ You giggled while grabbing his cock and lowering your full weight onto him.
He could no longer keep up the tough façade, the cracks showing by a playful spark appearing in his eyes. He laughed through closed lips and shrugged.
‘Yeah…just like that. Well, I guess we both know that you are the boss here, my kitten.’ He groaned as you began riding him. And this was the beginning of a long, adrenaline-fueled night filled with sensual and passionate sex. Lesson learned? Annoying Sanemi was well worth it.
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Dividers by @cafekitsune
Hope I can make you laugh with this oldie but goodie. Imagine Bakugo instead of Nemi 😅 @doumadono @crystalwolfblog
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claramelooo · 2 months ago
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Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late, I'm at a sleepover! Enjoy!
MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT!
Warning: +18, discipline
Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem reader
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Summary: After forgetting a date with Wanda, you get what you deserve
Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider | Part 5 - The Lamb | Part 6 - Pure Crimson
VELVET CHAINS
DEPENDECE
The days passed, and you remained unaware of the storm of emotions brewing within Wanda. You felt safe, confident by her side.
Wanda had shaped your self-confidence, helping you develop a sense of identity beyond the submissive, uninspired version your parents had tried to mold. Over time, through playful glances and mischievous smiles, she realized how unique your personality truly was.
Your witty comebacks, questionable humor, and untimely jokes—those were the traits that made you so singular in her eyes. She watched you as if every move you made was a piece of a puzzle she could never fully solve, yet she couldn't stop trying.
It was your carefree nature that unsettled her. You were like a hurricane—unpredictable, irreverent, and utterly at ease being yourself around her. Wanda, so accustomed to meticulous control and carefully planning every step, found her sanity tested by your provocations.
Like that afternoon.
"Do you always have to have the last word?" Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow as she stared at you from across the room.
"Only when someone gives me a reason," you replied, resting your chin on your hand, a smile playing on your lips—half challenge, half charm.
Wanda crossed her arms, slowly walking toward you.
"You know that drives me crazy, don't you?"
"Maybe," you teased, your tone light but full of mischief. "But you love it."
She stopped in front of you, leaning just enough for her presence to completely envelop you. Her green eyes sparkled with that familiar mix of exasperation and fascination.
"And why would I love something so infuriating?"
You shrugged, tilting your head with an innocent smile full of unspoken intentions.
"Because it means you never know what to expect from me. And you like the challenge, Wanda. Admitting it won’t kill you."
Her laugh was low, almost dark, but you saw the corner of her mouth curl upward.
"You’re unbelievable," she murmured, taking your hand and pulling you closer—so close you could feel the heat radiating from her body. "And do you know what the problem with that is?"
"Hmm?" you prompted, looking up at her from beneath your lashes with the most playful expression you could muster.
"It’s that I never want you to change."
The admission carried a weight that caught you off guard. For a moment, the air between you grew heavy with unspoken emotions. But instead of retreating, you chose to break the tension in your own way.
"So, if I make another bad joke right now, you’ll still like me?"
Wanda sighed, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
"Go ahead and find out, little one."
You didn’t waste a second.
"What’s the name of the sleepiest superhero? Napman—because he fights sleep!"
Wanda closed her eyes for a second, as if summoning patience. When she opened them, her gaze was intense.
"See? This is what drives me insane."
"But you still like it, don’t you?" you teased, leaning into her, confidence radiating from every move you made.
Wanda didn’t respond with words, but the slow smile spreading across her lips was answer enough.
Hours later, you were curled up on the couch under a blanket, a book open on your lap. Wanda was in the kitchen, focused on preparing something, as she often did, and you felt comfortable enough to be entirely yourself—playful, sassy, and a little bratty—the way only you could be around her.
"Wanda, you’re taking forever!" you whined, throwing your head back dramatically. "I’m going to starve before you’re done!"
She appeared in the kitchen doorway, one eyebrow arched, her gaze making you shiver—but not enough to stop your antics.
"Then come here and do it yourself if you’re in such a hurry," she said calmly, though her tone carried that edge that always made you think twice.
You looked at her with a mischievous grin, knowing exactly what you were doing.
"Oh, but you do it so much better. I deserve the best, don’t I?"
Wanda set down what she was holding and walked toward you, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She stopped beside the couch, looking at you with that perfect mix of exasperation and amusement only she could manage.
"You do deserve the best. But do you know what else you deserve?" She leaned down, taking the book from your lap and setting it aside. "Discipline. Lots of discipline."
Your smile faltered for a second, but you quickly recovered. “Discipline? Why? I’m an angel!”
Wanda chuckled softly, leaning in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “An angel? Are you sure about that? Because to me, you seem more like… a brat.”
You tried to hold back your laughter but failed. “And what are you going to do about it, mommy?” The nickname came out in a challenging tone, and you knew you were playing with fire.
She narrowed her eyes, a slow smile forming on her lips. “Want to find out?”
Before you could respond, Wanda grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the couch as if you weighed nothing. You squirmed, laughing loudly as she carried you toward the kitchen.
“Wanda! Put me down!” you protested, though your laughter betrayed any attempt to sound serious.
“Not until you learn to stop provoking me. Now, cut the apples, darling. I’m making pie.” She set you down on one of the kitchen chairs, returning to the stove with a satisfied expression.
You crossed your arms, pretending to be indignant. “This is an abuse of power.”
Wanda glanced over her shoulder, smiling. “This is love, my sweet. Now stay quiet and let me finish dinner, or I might come up with other ways to deal with your brattiness.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but her expression made you think twice. Instead, you grabbed one of the apples from the counter and started eating it, that mischievous glint still in your eyes.
Wanda shook her head, laughing softly. She knew you wouldn’t change, and deep down, she didn’t want you to. After all, it was precisely your antics that made every moment with you so unique.
[...]
The smell of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon donuts filled the small café in the heart of the city. You were sitting in a quiet corner, surrounded by books, notebooks, and loose papers. A cup of cappuccino sat cooling by your side as you scribbled furiously, eyes fixed on a seemingly endless reading list.
“This looks like torture,” Yelena remarked, appearing beside you with a tray in her hands. She sat across from you, balancing her coffee cup and a plate with a croissant.
“It’s Yale,” you replied with a sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not exactly a walk in the park.”
“Why do you do this to yourself?” Yelena asked, frowning slightly. Despite the playful tone, there was genuine concern in her voice.
“Because it’s my dream,” you said firmly, shrugging. “And dreams require sacrifices.”
Yelena laughed, tearing off a piece of her croissant. “Always so dramatic. Relax a little, will you? You’re doing great. Besides, nobody can be perfect all the time.”
“Easy for you to say,” you teased, glancing up at her. “Some of us have to work for what we want.”
“Ouch,” she said, placing a hand over her chest as if wounded. “You’re cruel. And speaking of hard work…” Yelena looked around before leaning over the table. “I have to ask. What’s going on between you and Wanda?”
Your heart stopped for a moment. Her tone wasn’t accusatory or suspicious, so you decided to test the waters.
“What do you mean?”
Yelena frowned. “‘What do you mean,’ seriously? You’re temporarily staying in that witch’s house. Do you realize how concerning that sounds?”
You let out a relieved laugh. “Witch? What are you talking about? Wanda’s an amazing woman!” Yelena gave you an incredulous look.
She crossed her arms, leaning back in the chair as if she were assessing you. Her gaze was half playful, half interrogative. “Amazing woman?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are we talking about the same Wanda who, with just a look, makes everyone either want to run away or kneel? Because, honestly, this ‘amazing woman’ has a pretty… controlling vibe.”
You laughed, stirring your coffee to avoid her gaze. “She just has a strong personality. She’s determined, you know? It’s not like she’s mean.” You replied—cheeks burning as memories of the previous night flashed through your mind, where you learned firsthand that Wanda could be mean, after all.
Yelena scoffed. “Oh, sure. And I’m the Queen of England.”
“I’m serious, Yelena,” you insisted, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “She’s incredible. Smart, funny… and she treats me well.”
“Treats you well, huh?” Yelena leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “That’s a cute way of saying you’re being super lesbian for her, isn’t it?”
Your eyes widened, and you groaned in exasperation. “Yelena! Stop it! Wanda’s married!” You made exaggerated hand gestures, hoping to wave away any suspicion.
“Yeah, I know. And yet, here you are, stammering with flushed cheeks.” The blonde pinched your cheeks between her fingers, making you yelp in protest.
“All right, all right!” Yelena raised her hands in surrender. “I won’t tell anyone about your little crush on the married milf.”
You let out a sigh of relief, but you couldn’t help casting a cautious glance at Yelena. “I don’t have a crush on anyone!” you insisted, crossing your arms and trying to sound firm.
Yelena smirked, the mischievous glint in her eyes showing she didn’t believe you for a second. “Oh, sure, because not having a crush perfectly explains why you get all flustered just saying her name.”
“You’re unbearable,” you muttered, grabbing your coffee cup to hide behind it.
“I’m unbearable, but I’m right,” Yelena countered, leaning forward with a conspiratorial look. “So, what did she do to make you like this? Was it that killer stare? Or maybe the way she talks, all authoritative?”
“Yelena!” you exclaimed, nearly spilling your coffee.
“Ah, I knew it!” Yelena slapped the table, laughing loud enough to make a few people in the café glance your way. “You like it when she bosses you around, don’t you?”
“I’m going to kill you,” you said through gritted teeth, though your face was so hot it could have set the entire café on fire.
“Relax, no one here’s judging,” she said, raising her hands again in mock innocence. “I’m just saying that if it were me, I’d probably be swooning too. I mean, the woman’s a total icon of milf power.”
“Milf power? Where do you even come up with this stuff?” you asked, laughing despite yourself.
“I’m Russian. Every Russian knows this,” Yelena replied with a dramatic wave of her hand.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling. Yelena always had a way of disarming you, even when she was being completely irritating.
Yelena raised her cup as if making a toast. “Now, spill. Does she kiss well or not?”
“Yelena!” you exclaimed, feeling your face heat up even more.
“Oh, come on, I deserve to know! If you’re going to tangle with a powerful witch, at least give me the details.”
You shook your head, laughing. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re predictable,” Yelena shot back with a wink. “But that’s fine. I’ll find out one way or another.”
Her laughter echoed through the café, and for the first time in days, you felt a little lighter.
[...]
When you got home, you immediately sensed something was wrong. The house was too quiet. Wanda was in the living room, arms crossed, her eyes glinting with an intensity that made you freeze in the doorway.
“Hi,” you began hesitantly, feeling the tension in the air.
“Did you have fun?” Wanda asked, her voice low but laced with controlled anger.
You swallowed hard, nervousness coursing through your veins. “Yes…” you replied, testing her mood.
Wanda tilted her head slightly, as if assessing your response. The smile that curled on her lips was small but completely devoid of humor. “That’s good,” she said, her sweetness as sharp as a blade. “Because while you were out having fun, I was here… thinking.”
“I wasn’t… I was studying.” Your justification was completely ignored as Wanda started walking toward you, her movements feline.
Wanda took a step closer, and you instinctively stepped back. “I was thinking about how foolish I was to believe you knew your place.”
“My place?” you repeated, surprise mixing with your growing unease.
“Yes, your place,” she replied, her voice colder now. “By my side. Here. With me.”
“Wanda, I didn’t do anything wrong,” you started, but she raised a hand, cutting you off.
“Exactly! You didn’t!” she questioned, her eyes blazing with anger. “You were out with her while I was here… waiting for you for tea.”
As she mentioned it, your gaze fell on the tea set, perfectly arranged—you cursed yourself mentally. You and Wanda had developed small rituals throughout the day, and tea time was one of them.
She would sip her tea while you lay on her lap, listening as she read to you. Guilt stabbed at your heart.
“I… I just went out with a friend. Yelena is a childhood friend,” you argued, trying to remain calm, but her intensity was almost overwhelming.
“Friend,” Wanda repeated, as if tasting the word and finding it repugnant. “Is that why you ignored my messages? Came back smelling like coffee and laughter that wasn’t mine?”
When Wanda realized you’d been with Yelena, it was as if something inside her cracked. Her first reaction was disbelief—how could you be with someone else? It wasn’t conventional jealousy, not the kind that came with exclusivity. It was something deeper, primal, a visceral cry of possession she didn’t know she had until she met you.
She tried to focus on other things, but her thoughts kept circling back to the image of you laughing with Yelena. The smile she considered hers, willingly shared with someone else. As hours passed and her messages remained unanswered, every minute felt like a cruel reminder of her lack of control.
When the sacred tea time you both shared came and went without you, Wanda felt a knot in her stomach. A simple tradition, but one that held deep significance for her—a moment of connection, a bubble where the outside world ceased to exist. And you had broken that.
Anger consumed her, a heat rising through her veins and burning away any rationality. It wasn’t fair. She knew that. You hadn’t promised her exclusivity, but her heart screamed otherwise. She hated herself for being so dependent, so vulnerable.
When she finally heard the door open, it was like the eye of a storm. But when she saw you, with your hesitant smile and disarming tone, the anger surged back in full force.
Her anger wasn’t just about you spending the day with someone else. It was about the vulnerability you made her feel, the intensity of her emotions that she couldn’t control. Wanda didn’t want to feel this way, but at the same time, she didn’t want you to be anyone else’s.
“Wanda, this doesn’t make sense,” you said, frustration building. “I love being with you. Why are you acting like this?”
The confession hit Wanda like a shock, but it didn’t extinguish the fire in her eyes. Instead, she took another step toward you, closing the space between you.
“Because I don’t share what’s mine,” she said, her voice low and weighted.
Before you could respond, Wanda gripped your wrist firmly—but not painfully—and pulled you closer, your faces so near you could feel her breath.
“You need to understand something,” she said, her tone so serious it stole your breath. “I’m yours. And you… you’re mine.”
The weight of her words crashed over you like an avalanche, leaving your body tense. Her gaze darkened even further, and before you could process it, her lips captured yours—demanding, possessive.
There was no gentleness in the kiss, only raw intensity and desire. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were blazing, as if the entire world had disappeared and left only the two of you.
Wanda murmured, her tone slightly softer but still brimming with authority. “I think we need a little reminder of who’s in charge here, don’t you?”
Wanda stood in the center of the room, arms crossed over her chest, her piercing gaze fixed on you. The intensity of her eyes made your skin prickle, but her voice remained calm, as if each word was meticulously chosen.
"You know you made me furious today," she began, her voice low and controlled but with a sharp edge. "And when I feel this way, we need to address it properly. First of all, what's the safeword?"
"Green to continue, yellow to slow down, and red to stop," you answered in a near whisper, tension pulsing through your body.
She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Exactly. Now, I want you to know I have no intention of hurting you, but you need to learn not to test my boundaries. Understood?"
"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.
"Good girl," Wanda said, her tone firm but tinged with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "Now, lie across my lap."
Your breathing quickened, but you obeyed. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned your pants and slid them down, draping yourself over her lap, your heart pounding in your chest.
Wanda placed her hand gently on your back, stroking your skin in an almost comforting gesture. "We’re going to count together. Each spank, understood?"
"Yes, ma’am," you replied, your tone small and submissive.
“Why are you being punished, Y/n?” she asked, her hand stroking your ass with a firm grip.
Your lower lip trembled as embarrassment washed over you, leaving you feeling exposed.
"I… I didn’t reply to mommy’s messages, and I forgot about our plans together."
"Good girl," Wanda said, already feeling some of her anger dissipate. "Identifying and acknowledging your mistakes is a big step. I’m very proud of you, dekta."
The first spank came swiftly, making you gasp at the initial sting. "One," you said, your voice shaky.
The second was firmer but still controlled. "Two."
As the spanks continued, the heat in your skin grew. Each one was meticulously measured, never crossing the boundaries you both had established. Wanda’s hand was firm, but you knew she was entirely in control.
By the eighth spank, tears began streaming down your face. Your voice quivered as you counted, "Eight."
Wanda immediately paused, her hand resting on your warm skin. "What’s the color?" she asked, her tone now filled with concern.
"Green," you responded between sobs, though she didn’t seem fully convinced. She sighed, stroking your skin gently.
"Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?" The anger that had consumed Wanda earlier seemed to be rapidly dissolving, replaced by a tenderness that made your heart ache.
"I’m okay," you replied, still tearful but sincere. "Please, don’t stop."
Wanda hesitated for a moment before resuming, her hand stroking your back again. "Alright. But I want you to know that, even when I’m upset, my priority is you. I adore you, my girl, and I will never push past your limits."
“N-nine,” you sobbed, feeling the sting radiate through you.
“Ten!” you exclaimed, relieved that it was over. As Wanda pulled you into her arms, you let everything go—all the anger and guilt you had bottled up.
"Shh, my girl," Wanda murmured, running her fingers through your hair. "It’s okay now. I’m here, and I’ll never let anything hurt you. Not even me."
You nodded, still crying softly as the warmth of her presence enveloped you completely. In Wanda’s arms, you knew you were safe.
Wanda felt herself lost in the abyss that was you. It wasn’t love, at least not the romantic, delicate kind people liked to describe. It was something far more visceral, something that clenched her chest like a closed fist and kept her awake at night, suffocated by a need she didn’t know how to satisfy.
You were a throbbing, vivid, uncontrollable obsession. Every smile, every distracted glance was like a spark igniting something primal within her. Wanda found herself lost in mundane moments—washing dishes, folding clothes—and suddenly, she was thinking of you. The sound of your laughter, the way you furrowed your brow when focused, the warmth of your skin beneath her fingers.
She knew this was dangerous. She knew there was a fine line between wanting someone and needing someone. But with you, that line had long been obliterated. It was no longer a matter of choice. You had become a part of her, an extension of her will, and it terrified her.
What scared her most, however, was the power you wielded without even trying. All it took was your absence for the emptiness to settle in her chest like a slow, corrosive sickness. A mere delay was enough for her mind to conjure terrible scenarios, a storm of insecurities and paranoias she couldn’t contain.
And then there was the touch. My God, the touch. When your fingers met hers, it was as though the world around her ceased to exist. There was something possessive about the way Wanda held your hand, as if she feared you might vanish if her grip wasn’t firm enough. And maybe you would vanish, because you weren’t hers—not really—and that was a constant torment.
There were nights when she lay beside Vision, the husband who was supposed to be her anchor, staring at the ceiling with someone else’s name caught on her lips. In those moments, she felt the depth of her dependency. You were like a drug she’d tasted once and could no longer abandon, no matter how hard she tried.
You were her ruin, but also the only thing that made life pulse through her veins again.
And perhaps that was what Wanda feared most: that without you, she wouldn’t be able to feel anything at all.
~*~
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phoward89 · 9 months ago
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Professor!Coriolanus x Innocent!Reader
Masterlist
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Dark!Coryo, Obsessed!Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Sweet!Reader, Naive!Reader, manipulation, obsession, professor/student relationship, power imbalance, age difference, cussing, drugging, dacryphilia, smut, dub con, non con?
Based on a request a while back where your professor's obsessed with you and manipulates you to be with him.
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Part 1
Coriolanus Snow flourished in his studies at the University: a double major in Political Science and Military Strategy. He also impressed Dr. Gaul while interning with her as a gamemaker. But, although his ideas were implemented and well liked by the mad scientist, Dr. Gaul didn't feel like Mr. Snow had the raw, insane, sadistic gumption that it took to be an official Gamemaker.
The mad scientist also didn't like Coriolanus’ presidential aspirations. Truthfully, she feared the young Snow because, in her opinion, he was too ambitious. Ambition is a very dangerous thing when given the absolute freedom to bloom into real, tangible, outcomes and goals. Dr. Gaul knew if Coriolanus became an Assistant Gamemaker that he'd stop at nothing to attain her job; use that position to further his goal of politics.
Coriolanus Snow dreamed of becoming the youngest President Panem has ever had. And Dr. Gaul knows that in order to do that, well, her little pupil has to win people over; kill a lot of them too in order to clear the way for his stepping stones to the Presidential Palace.
Coriolanus Snow as the president is the last thing Dr. Gaul wants on God's green earth. Her former student is very cunning, but uncontrollable. He likes to be in control; doesn't want to be told what to do. Has a godlike complex too. And the mad scientist can't have that because, in reality, the President of Panem is just a figurehead- a puppet that Dr. Gaul pulls all the strings of.
And after mentoring Mr. Snow for his 4 years of University, well, Dr. Gaul has come to the conclusion that he's a failed experiment. To a certain degree he passed some of her tests, but not the one where ambition and falling in line were concerned. Plus, the woman has a suspicion that Coriolanus poisoned Highbottom a few years back; no way in hell is she letting an arsenic happy little sociopath work close to her.
She's not crazy enough to trust Coriolanus Snow not to poison her. Give Dr. Gaul some credit, she didn't become the Head Gamemaker and the Head of the War Department for nothing. She's very bright, just a bit insane and morally evil.
But, since Dr. Gaul, his personal mentor during his entire University career, claimed that he just wasn't the best of the best or the brightest star out of the University students under her tutelage, Coriolanus wasn't offered any positions that could be of power or use to him in his dreams of politics. He was blackballed from the Citadel and from anything Gamemaker related, per Dr. Gaul's request.
But he was offered a position as a professor in the Political Science department of the Capitol's prestigious University. But the class he was assigned to teach just happened to be an elective class.
Political Policies In Utopia/Dystopia Pre-Panem Literature/Media
It was basically a class that broke down what was right and wrong with the politics of various pre-Panem books and movies that were usually apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic (sometimes even sci-fi in nature). Coriolanus felt that the class was idiotic, but he was stuck teaching it. Apparently the class was designed as something fun for the Political Science students, as something light amongst their heavy coursework. But still something that'd keep their minds on the strengths and weaknesses of politics; the importance of them.
The first couple of years teaching the course, Coriolanus would cringe at some of the books and movies he was forced to make the class read, watch, and disect. But as the years went on, well, he got immune to some of the source material he was teaching. Sad to say, but after a while the shocking things in his lessons didn't phase him.
So, as his old classmates and acquaintances made their mark in the world in either politics, banking, or business, Coriolanus was a University Professor. He was trapped in a mundane life, year and year.
And one day he woke up, a man nearing 28 and going nowhere. He was frustrated with his life: bitter over his dead dreams. But, when you walked into his class on the first day of the Fall semester looking like a fresh faced innocent school girl that had recently graduated from the Academy during early July, well, he knew that his luck had changed.
Yes, he might be stuck being a professor of a useless elective class forever, but at least now he had a sweet angel- you- to lust after and corrupt. And the darkness looming inside of Coriolanus’ soul demands that he corrupts you; takes you as his life partner to smother and never let you.
He swore to never fall in love again and he intended to keep that vow, but that didn't mean that he had to keep fucking useless, faceless, nameless whores. No. It was time for him to get a good girl and unfortunately for you, well, your youth and innocent aura attracted Professor Snow to you like a moth to a flame.
Except he's not the one that's getting burnt in this scenario, but you are.
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You're one of the only girls enrolled in Professor Snow's class, but that's because it's a Political Science course. Actually, it's an elective class for Political Science majors of all year levels. But still…it's a political class.
Your parents weren't too thrilled when you enrolled at the University as a Political Science major. Your father, Colonel Javanis Halvir, felt that you should've joined the Nursing Core or should've settled on becoming a socialite and looking for a husband like other pretty Capitolite girls did.
But much to your father's disappointment you did neither and decided to study politics instead. You're older brother, Rein, who was an Officer in the Peacekeepers thought it was hilarious that you defied your father. He backed up your decision to major in Political Science. Your mother could care less; she even told your father to ignore your University major and course load; that you’d either get tired and quit because it was too hard or you’d find a future politician to marry.
So far neither of your mother's assumptions have come to pass. You're still enrolled in all of your classes and you're still single.
Your last class of the day was Professor Snow's and you found the class to be very interesting. Very intriguing in fact. Oh, how you found the class to be unlike any you've ever taken before.
Political Policies In Utopia/Dystopia Pre-Panem Literature/Media.
Oh, the class made you think about how things could be worse in different realities or universes. Yes, you're only on the first assigned book for the semester’s reading, but so far The Handmaid's Tale seems like hell on steroids. Fuck, that book makes you shudder and you're only halfway thru it. You honestly can't wait til it's over and Professor Snow lets you move onto the next one.
When you walk into the classroom, Professor Snow's sitting behind his mahogany desk. He's got reading glasses on and he's nose deep in a book. It's not one of the class assigned reads, so you quickly figured out that it's a personal book.
As you take your usual seat, you can't help but think that your professor (who’s a good decade older than you) looks handsome in reading glasses. That the dark frames make his icy blue eyes pop and contrasts against his slicked back platinum hair. Shaking your head to clear any and all wandering thoughts of Professor Snow, you open your bag and take out your supplies for the class.
Coriolanus discreetly looks over the top of his book to check you out. Oh fuck, how he thinks you look so goddamn perfect and sexy today in your sweater, blouse, skirt, stockings, kitten heels, and your pearls.
Fuck, a simple strand of pearls around the neck and simple pearl earrings in the ears always makes his cock twitch. Oh, how he wants to do some pearl play with the strand and your pussy.
Oh, yes, with how young you are and how innocently pretty you look, he's sure that your cunt's tighter then a Nun's chuff. Oh, how he'd love to take your strand of pearls and slide them up and down your wet slit; tease your clit with them until it's swollen and you're begging to cum. He wonders if you’d suck your juices clean from the pearls too.
But then Coriolanus remembers where the hell he's at, his classroom in the damn University, and suddenly he's thinking of his ex, Livia Cardew, to make his dick soft. Ugh, that shrew can kill a wet dream.
And when he sees all of his students are sitting in their respective seats, he eyes the clock on the wall to check the time. When he sees that it's about time to start class, he closes his book and places it on his desk before standing up and standing in front of the large blackboard. He writes on it in his impeccable handwriting.
The Handmaiden's Tale Chapters 26-28 Review
You listen as Professor Snow goes over the material you read over the last couple of days, literally giving a cut and dry summary that barely touched the topic of the latest chapters. But then, when he's done, he starts asking the class questions. Questions about the book that makes the class think and ponder.
“In chapter 28 Offred muses about the fall of the United States and the creation of Gilread. Now, we find out that women's rights are slowly striped and all bank accounts women have are given to the husband or male in the family, amongst some other revelations about the occupation Gilread slowly does to the government. Now, my question is, do you think the flashback Offered provided about the fall of the United States and the subtle, but sure, takeover of Gilread could happen today in Panem?”
A young man with beige hued hair raised his hand, only for Professor Snow to nod and acknowledge him with a simple, “Mr. Arnoult, you share your answer with the class.”
Eros Arnoult, in your opinion, was a pain in the ass; know it all. Or at least he thought he was a know it all. And he just had to answer Professor Snow's philosophical question with the idiotic and incorrect answer of, “What happened to the United States in the book would never happen here in Panem. Panem has Peacekeepers.”
And you knew Eros’ answer was wrong by how Professor Snow’s cerulean blue eyes narrowed and turning into a pair of cold icicles; how his lips frowned in a thin line.
Before thinking better of it, you turned around in your seat to look at Eros and told him, “You’re such an idiot, Eros. You're wrong, because what happened to the United States could happen to Panem.”
“Miss Y/N, please elaborate.” Professor Snow insisted with a spry smirk on his face.
You turn around to face your professor before telling him and the entire class, “What happened to the United States in the book A Handmaiden's Tale could happen to Panem if, gods forbid, the Districts rise up again like they did during the war; the Dark Days.”
“The Districts would never dream about rising up again. Not with the Hunger Games keeping them in line.” Eros told you before Professor Snow could even make a remark about your thoughts.
Turning around to face your classmate, again, you counter his remark with one of, “The Hunger Games can only do so much to keep them in line. People, if pushed too hard or if they feel too hopeless will try to rebel or will follow the pied piper into something worse than what they have and everyone else will be stunned when it happens because they never thought it could.”
Coriolanus was very impressed with your political insight. For being in your first semester of your first year at the University. At first your beauty and innocence caught his eye, but he has to admit that the more time you spend in his class the more he discovers he appreciates your wit as well.
So much so that he tells you, “Very good answer, Miss Y/N.”, before explaining in length what the United States did wrong in the book to fall and become Gilread and, of course, explaining how those lessons can be implemented and used in politics today.
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One day after class you're walking with your neighbor in the courtyard whenever Professor Snow comes marching up to you, seething. You didn't understand what was wrong; why he seemed so upset.
“You need to leave my student alone.” Professor Snow ordered your neighbor, Odysseus, in a firm baritone while using his hand to separate you and your bronze haired neighbor.
“It's fine, Professor Snow. Really, he's my neighbor.” You assure your tall and imposing teacher as he places a protective arm around your shoulder; pulling you into his side while acting as a large buffer between you and Odysseus.
Odysseus’ lips curled up into a deriding smile that dug into his dimples cheeks. Cocking his head slightly at the pristine platinum haired professor, he remarked in a mawkish tone, “Yea, Professor Snow, I live across the hall from her so we'll be seeing plenty of each other.”
Keeping you under his protective wing, Coriolanus craned his neck forward as he towers over the peacock of a bronze haired boy, while coldly stating, “I know exactly what boys like you, Mr. Odair, want from girls like Miss Y/N and I’m not going to let you taint her reputation. Neighbor or not.” Waving him off with a dismissive flick of the wrist, the professor ordered your neighbor to, “Stay away from Miss Y/N or else you might find yourself on an academic probation.”
Odysseus shook his head in disgust and disbelief before stalking off. Honestly, he couldn't believe that you just let your cold, overbearing, astute professor take control over the situation that was your neighborly friendship and turn it into some knight in shining toilfoil coming to an unneeded rescue moment. The sea-green eyed man couldn't help, but have an uneasy feeling about Professor Snow swooping in on you under the guise as your protector.
You're a freshman at the University, you don't need some distinguished professor that's all washed up (everyone in Capitol City knows how Coriolanus Snow aimed high and fell short in his ambitions) ‘protecting’ you from a young man your age.
Coriolanus couldn't help, but to let a smug, triumphant smirk paint his lips as he watched Odysseus Odair slump his shoulder and scurry off in defeat. Yes, once again Snow lands on top.
And Snow’s going to be the only man landing on top of you too. That he'll make sure of.
Coriolanus’ face contorted from a smugly victorious to stricken with concern before he turns to you. His baritone is deep with care as he tells you, “Although Mr. Odair's your neighbor, you need to stay away from him, darling. He's a skirt chaser with a nasty reputation on campus; boys like that'll just use you and leave you.” Patting your cheek, he adds in, “I'd hate to see my best and brightest pupil get hurt.”
Unable to believe your ears, you ask in awe, “I’m your best pupil?”
“Yes, Miss Y/N, you truly are.” Professor Snow nods. Clutching the strap of his leather satchel, he informs you with a thin lipped smile, “In fact, I find your insight on the course material we're currently working on to be very refreshing and mentally stimulating.”
Did you just hear him right? He can't mean that, can he? “Really?” You blurt out in a surprised tone.
“Really.” Your platinum blonde professor nods. “Do you have a class I could escort you to before I leave, just to make sure you're safe from Mr. Odair's nefarious intentions?” He asks, sounding like a concerned angelic man with a heart of gold.
But little do you know that he's as angelic as Lucifer himself; his heart of gold is pitch black and full of selfish desires.
“Oh, I don't have any more classes. Yours was my last one.” You innocently inform Professor Snow, causing the cunning and calculating man to do a mental happy dance hidden behind a neutral mask.
Coriolanus knows that what he's going to do is unethical, but he doesn't care. As long as he gets what he wants, which is you in his bed, he'll break every rule. All of his other dreams are unobtainable, but not you.
No.
His dream of being with you is right in reach and he's going to snatch it up greedily in his large hands.
Coriolanus gives you a smile that's more manic then friendly, as he suggests, “Why don't you join me for a bite to eat? We can always discuss your thoughts on politics or anything related to my class, if you'd like.”
Professor Snow thinks you're his best student and wants to grab something to eat with you to discuss politics and his class with you. Oh wow! You can't believe it. You didn't think you were that great of a student, surely one of the boys must have a higher aptitude for politics. It is, after all, usually a man's world and subject.
“Okay.” You simply reply with a small, flattered smile.
“I know the perfect place.” Coriolanus told you, guiding you into the direction of the parking lot and in extension his black luxury sedan was parked. “I'm positive you'll enjoy the food there.” A slightly sinister smirk crossed over his face as he lightly remarked, “And the wine’s to die for.”
“I'm not old enough to drink wine, Professor Snow.” You remind your professor, who has to be close to thirty.
“Well, you just let me order for us and nobody’ll know how young you really are.” Professor Snow tells you, his tone sounding mirthful and secretive, as he sips his face a bit too close towards yours.
His disposition changes as he holds his head up high and points his car out on the approaching lot. “That's my car right over there, darling. Nice, isn't it?”
“Yes, it's very nice.” You agree with a nod. In fact, his car seems nicer than the one your family has. You even tell him that too, earning you a chuckle from him.
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The place Professor Snow took you to was a quaint, but upscale restaurant close to the Corso. The food was very delicious and the wine, as he said, was to die for. True to his word, your professor ordered for both of you and nobody was none the wiser that perhaps you shouldn't be drinking the wine.
But right before desert was going to be served you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. And that's when Coriolanus decided to enact the most vital part of his plan. Something that you knew nothing about; would never believe if told either.
As you wash your hands in the powder room, you look in the mirror and wonder if it's odd that you feel a bit giddy from eating with Professor Snow. You'd be lying if you said that you didn't have a tiny crush on the handsome, distinguished man. Because, you really do have a teeny tiny crush on him. But a girl would have to be blonde not to simp over the man with the perfectly styled platinum curls, striking baby blue eyes, prominent nose with a set of perfect pearly whites.
Deciding that you needed to stop being silly, you splashes some water on your face and took a deep breath before exiting the ladies room.
“Our deserts just arrived, darling.” Professor Snow smiles,gesturing towards the rich dark chocolate cheesecakes set in front of your place settings.
“Oh, you didn't have to wait for me, Professor Snow.” You tell him, feeling a bit embarrassed that he's been sitting and looking at his cheesecake instead of eating because he was waiting on you.
“Nonsense, Y/N.” The platinum blonde picked up his fork. “My Grandma'am taught me that a gentleman always waits for a lady arrive to start a course.” Professor Snow scoops a piece of his cheesecake with his fork while you reach for your own fork. Bringing his bite of the chocolate desert to his lush lips, he smirks, “That includes desert.”
You're using your fork to dig into your own desert whenever your professor pulls the fork from his lips and tells you, “Please, call me Coriolanus.” Digging back into his cheesecake, he adds, “Or Coryo, if you'd like.”
In between eating your desert, you ask, “Is that allowed? I'm your student.”
“I can't see why we can't be friends outside of class. We're two adults that can manage a friendship, aren't we?”
“Yes, but you're like 30.”
Coriolanus narrowed his icy eyes; his mouth sourly puckered as he tarly told you, “Oh, darling, don't age me. I'm a Scorpio; I’m only turning 28 this All Hallows Eve.”
“Oh, you're the same age as my older brother.” You blurt out, causing Coriolanus to just let out a silent huff.
Honestly, he already knew that. He knows that your older brother's Rein Halvir. He remembers the idiot from their days in the Academy. And, frankly, he's glad he hasn't run into him since being back in the Capitol.
“Yes, I believe I attended the Academy with him.” Coriolanus said, pretending to take his brain for your sake. “Is he faring well?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with a slight sparkle as you reached for your win glass.
You think it's nice that Coriolanus asked about your brother. So, of course, you answer his inquiry with, “Rein’s an officer in the peacekeepers. He's stationed in District 12; has a girlfriend and two kids.”
“Capitolite or?...” The cerulean man asks, his deeply smooth tone falling of a cliff of a silent question. A question of District.
“Ashlie's from District 12- the Seam to be exact. Their kids were born on PK Base-D12 so they're registered as Capitol citizens.”
“Aha.” Coriolanus lifts his nose up, in both superiority and disgust.
Coriolanus once spent the summer of his 18th year of life in District 12 as a peacekeeper grunt while foolishly fancying himself in love with the songbird victor of the 10th Hunger Games. Unfortunately, it didn't end well. Sometimes he'd wonder if things could've been different, but then he remembers that him and the songbird were too different to ever work. And that if she truly loved him she wouldn't have betrayed him; try to poison him with a snake and leave him to die.
No, he's much better off without that Covey frontrunner whore in his life. Her love was toxic, made him feel like a fool. And if things had worked out with her then we would've never met you.
Coriolanus is without a doubt certain that you're the girl for him. Innocent, beautiful, young, and intelligent. Oh yes, he's surely met histch in you. And he's certain that you'll never betray his love.
No, not with how kind and gentle your smile is.
“My family's proud that my brother followed our father's military footsteps, but they're not too fond of his girlfriend or their kids.” Your father's still pissed that his grandchildren are half-District. “Believe it or not, I'm the family disappointment.” You admit to your professor, even tho a part of you knows you shouldn't, before taking a large sip of your wine.
Your admission took the platinum haired professor a back. He was quite befuddled by it. How could you, a smart and innocent angel of a girl be the family disappointment? It doesn't make any sense.
Scratching his chin in a pondering way, Coriolanus asked, “Why would you be a disappointment?” Resting his elbow on the table and curling his hand into a fist, which he rests his jaw against, he remarks in a stunned baritone, “You're my best student and I'm sure you're excelling in your other classes as well.”
Yes, Professor Snow just couldn't fathom why you're not good enough for your family. In his eyes, you're absolutely perfect. But yet again he does have an obsession with you that's just crossed over a dark line; maybe even a sick one too.
“I'm studying Political Science instead of enlisting in the Nursing Core or taking my place in society as a socialite.” You wanted to go back to eating your desert, but you were suddenly feeling a bit odd. You felt as you were getting a bit hazy. Maybe it was too hot in the restaurant? “My mother told my father to just let me study politics as a way to find myself an aspiring politician to marry.” You add, concluding your explanation of why you're a disappointment to the Halvir family name.
“I once had political aspirations, but alas it wasn't meant to be and I'm a political professor for the great University in all of Panem instead.” Coriolanus said with a bit of veiled excitement in his smooth timbre.
Oh, Coriolanus was internally giddy. His plan was perfect. Just a few more minutes and he'll have you right where he wants you.
“Are you alright, darling? You seem a bit flushed.” Coriolanus asked, fake concern in his baby blues, as he placed his fork down on his plate.
“I'm not sure, Coriolanus. I feel a bit hazy.” You honestly tell him. Oh no, are you tipsy? You can't be, it was only a glass of wine. “Maybe the wine was too strong?” You offer as you begin to feel as if the room's going to start spinning.
Coriolanus’ brows knit as he gives you a worried look. “I think we should get the check and leave, Y/N. You really don't look well and I'm a bit concerned.” Your professor suggests, making you believe that he truly was concerned about your well being.
“Okay.” You nod, feeling dizzy and drowsy.
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You must've passed out because the last thing you remember is feeling dizzy and drowsy while getting ready to leave the restaurant and then the next moment you're waking up in a strange bed. You automatically start panicking as you sit up. But before you can scream or scramble off the bed, a voice next to you sounds out with, “Oh, you're awake. Are you feeling better now, darling?”, and kills your fight or flight reactions.
You're with Professor Snow- uh Coriolanus. And he's not in his three piece suit anymore, instead he's in lounge pants and a casual shirt. What the?...
You look over at him, only to discover that he's laying on the bed, legs crossed at the ankle with his back leaning against the headboard. A pair of black frame glasses are perched on the bridge of his prominent nose as he reads a book. A book that’s cover looks well worn and battered.
“What happened? Why am I in bed with you?” You ask, feeling a bit confused.
“You don't remember walking out of the restaurant and falling out in the parking lot near my car?” He asked, closing his book and setting it on his nightstand before taking off his reading glasses and placing them on top of the book.
‘No.” You shake your head. “I don't.”
“Well, my darling,” Coriolanus gave you a sympathetic, but pointed look with his icy eyes, “Since you blacked out before I could get your address I brought you to my Corso penthouse.” Placing a large hand on your knee, he gave you a closed lip smile. “I don't want to startle you, but I took the liberties of changing you into a shirt of mine, for comfort.” Raising his hand up, to stop you from even thinking about opening your mouth, he said in a gentlemanly tone, “Don't worry, I didn't cross any lines; your underwear is still on.”
You should be creeped out, but instead you find it endearing that he was worried about your comfort and changed you into one of his shirts while you were passed out. Oh, no. Now you feel so embarrassed and stupid blacking out after a glass of wine. What's wrong with you? The wine couldn't have been that strong, could it?
“Thank you.” You murmur, casting your eyes down to stare at the hand that's on your thigh- Coriolanus' large hand. “I guess the wine was too strong for me.”
“Yes, I suppose it was.” The platinum blonde man next to you nodded. “I was worried about you; kept vigil by your tipsy side.”
Pushing his hand off your thigh, you tell him, “Thank you, but I should probably dress and catch a cab home.”
“Darling, you don't have to leave. You can stay here til you regain your senses; you'll be safe with me.”
“I'm fine.” You assure him, tone a bit snappier than you meant for it to be, as you sat on the edge of the bed.
Knowing you’d be dizzy and at risk for another blackout, Coriolanus leaned over and took your arm in his hand; stopping you from getting up. When you turned around to look at him from over your shoulder, his icy eyes had a hint of something guileful in them.
“Don't go, darling. Please.”
“Profes- Coriolanus, I can't stay here. You're my professor; it'd look bad and you could get into trouble.”
“Why would I get into trouble? I'm just letting you rest after getting tipsy off of some very strong wine.” The imposing man, who's more dangerous than sinai poisoning, pointed out while quickly taking a seat right next to you. Taking his hand off of arm and placing it on your chin, tilting it in a way so you'd be able to look him in the eye, he huskily asks, “Or are you afraid to stay with me because you want to get fucked by your cold, stoic, and oh so serious Professor Snow?” His face inches closer to yours as he asks, “I know I'm quite a handsome man, Y/N. So, I must ask, do you get all hot and bothered for your teacher?”
“You shouldn't be asking me this.”
“No, I shouldn't.” Coriolanus agrees with you, his lips ghosting over yours.
Your brain's in a fog and you're beginning to feel a bit woozy again whenever Coriolanus’ lips press against yours in a kiss that's a bit hard and hungry. A kiss that makes you feel lightheaded. And when you attempt to pull away from him, to break off the kiss, he places his hands on your cheeks and pulls your face into his.
His hands, so large and strong, hold your face still as his lips press against yours over and over again with messy enthusiasm. You gasp for air, parting your lips slightly, but it's all Coriolanus needs to deepen the kiss. His tongue slips effortlessly into your mouth, exploring it, as feelings of both dizziness and pleasure wash over you.
Honestly, you don't know how to feel. Your brain's like scrambled eggs right now. You can barely think, can barely tell what's up and what's down right now.
All you know is that your head’s spinning and your body feels like it's on fire; that your professor’s making out with you on his bed as if you've been lovers for years instead of barely knowing each other then inside of his classroom.
“Coryo-” You say when he ends your kiss, allowing you both to catch your breath, but you don't say anything else since that feeling of falling into a dark abyss threatens to take over you once more.
Your eyes grow spotty causing you to blink them in an attempt at clearer vision. All the while, Coriolanus is tenderly stroking your cheeks with a strange look on his face. “I know you're a bit tipsy still and as the older one amongst us I should do the honorable thing and let you rest, but after that kiss we shared I'm afraid I can't be a gentleman with you anymore.”
Coriolanus knows that you're about to lose control of your senses, from the spiked wine you drank, but he needs to have you agree to what he wants to do. He has to get you to say ‘yes’ so that he can remind you later on when you're fully functional that you want him; that you agreed to spend the night with him in his bed- fucking.
Yes, he might be a manipulative bastard that's a tad bit possessive and obsessive, but he's not a monster. Coriolanus does want you to trust him, despite that trust coming from his own tongue weaving a silver tale for you to believe and feel comfortable with.
“You want me, don't you, darling?” Coriolanus asked, softly running his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks while cradling your face in his large hands. Gazing into your eyes with his icy orbs, he demanded, “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
Your a bit light headed and Coriolanus' words float around your head. It's as if you're underwater and his voice is just a garbled echo. Your ears seem to be ringing and you feel dazed.
All you can manage to do is give Coriolanus a lost look. You're feeling a bit wonky, can barely even make out what he's saying.
Coriolanus’ chest heaves and he internally chastises himself for being a bit heavy handed with drugging your wine. Yes, he wanted you pliable and to his will, but he doesn't want you blacked out the entire time he has his way with you.
Deciding that he needs to do something to sober you up, Coriolanus slaps you across the face. “Snap out of it, Y/N!” He orders in a deep, loud shout.
That seemed to stir something inside of you. Yes, you still felt a bit hazy, but the slap across your face paired with Coriolanus' loud shout seemed to cause your focus to return to you for a moment.
“I'm sorry, did I space out?” You ask your professor, whose baby blues are burning like hot coals with desire.
“Yes, baby, you did.” Coryo told you, soothingly stroking the cheek that he had just slapped. “I asked if you wanted to be with me; wanted to fuck me, but you just stared at me with glazed over eyes.”
“Coryo…” You sigh, feeling an unbearable heat cross over your cheeks. “We shouldn't do anything.”
“You haven't done anything before, have you?” The platinum blonde professor asked knowingly while subtly guiding you to the middle of his king sized bed.
“No.” You shake your head. Wringing your hands in your (his) shirt, you avert eye contact with him and add in, “Not really.”
“You're very special to me, Y/N. I've never met anyone as beautiful, bright, and innocent as you.” Coriolanus reveals in an eloquent speech that has your heart beating fast against your ribcage.
Truthfully, your heart's probably beating fast due to the drugged wine in your system, but since you're unaware of your state you just assume it's a romantic effect from his words. His carefully woven words.
“There's nothing wrong with us taking pleasure from each other, my darling.” He tells you like the master manipulator he is. He's working his magic on you, making your resolve start to crumble under his smooth and amorous words. Pressing his forehead against yours, he promises, “I’ll stay with you and I'll protect you, baby. I won't hurt you like those pervy boys your age would.”
Coriolanus pulled his forehead away from yours, only to press a kiss to your lips. A kiss that was soft and sensual. A kiss that he meant to be persuasive.
Time was ticking and Coriolanus knew that you'd be going back into lala land soon. Either he got you to say yes or he'd just tell you that you said yes once you came to later. But either way he's fucking your tight cunt.
“You want me to fuck you, right, baby.” The platinum blonde with a regal air around him told you, not asked.
You felt yourself begin to grow hazier by the minute. Your limbs even feel a bit heavier. Your tongue began to feel dry and heavy in your mouth and all you could manage to do was nod your head.
You felt as if your head was plunged back underwater. You felt everything around you feel muddled, but you did see Coriolanus give you a Cheshire grin before eagerly shedding his shirt and kissing you. A kiss that you barely felt due to the feeling of falling into an abyss.
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You blink your eyes and seem to come back to your senses once again as Coriolanus, your handsome professor, is naked above you, thrusting his cock in and out of your pussy.
You couldn't help, but wonder how drunk you got to agree to this. Yes, you find him attractive, but Professor Snow's your teacher at University. This violates so many cod of conduct ethics.
“Oh my God!” You blurt out, causing Coryo to smirk at you.
“My big cock feels good in your tight cunt, huh, baby?” Coriolanus asked as he snapped his hips in a certain way that had his cock pressing deep against that special spongy spot deep inside of you. “Fuck, your cunt feels so good. So fucking good ‘round by cock, darling.”
Your cunt’s dripping wet and every movement Coriolanus makes causes you to shudder. It does feel very good. Hell, it feels better then all of the times you've ever been fingered.
“It feels good, Coryo.” You admit in a wispy moan.
You try to move your arms, but they feel a bit heavy. As if they're asleep. Coriolanus notices you trying to move your arms and just takes his hands off of your wrists and laces his hands in yours, all while telling you the saccharine lie of, “You're still a bit drunk, baby. Just let me hold your hands while we fuck; you can hold my back or something later."
He brings his face close to yours. His breath fans against your lips as he tells you, “You’re my good babygirl with such a sweet, tight cunt.”
“Coryo…” You whined as you felt pleasure begin to wash over you.
“That's it, baby. Cum for me. Cum right now like my good girl.” Coryo ordered in a husky tone as he pounded your pussy with such force that your body was moving up and down the bed.
His hard and fast thrusts had you cumming harder then you've ever cummed in your entire life. His name's spilling from your lips; your legs shake and spasm from your orgasm as you soak the sheets.
“Oh, I knew you were perfect.” Coryo groans at the sight of you squirting. Watching your juices gush out of you, only to roll down your crimson coated thighs has him in overdrive. His cock’s even harder and his balls are twitching; begging to empty their cum deep inside of your cunt.
Coriolanus wants to grab your legs and bend you like a pretzel so he can fuck you into his mattress, but he's afraid that you might try to lift your arms again. The less you move (without his help) the better. He can't have you realizing what he did to your wine, now can he? So, he settles for just using your laced hands to brace himself as he digs his knees into the mattress and fucks into your cunt as fast as he can.
Your limbs feel tingly as Coryo pistons into your cunt mercilessly. You feel a bit overwhelmed, perhaps even a bit oversensitive. “Coryo, it's too much.”
“You're getting oversensitive, baby. Just be a good girl and take what I give you for a few more minutes, yea?”
“Coryo, please.” Feeling a bit overwhelmed from everything, you cry. “Please.”
As sick and twisted as it sounds, seeing salty tears leak from your eyes and roll down your cheeks has Coryo shooting thick ropes of his hot cum deep into your puffy cunt while moaning out your name.
Coriolanus lets your hands go, only to slowly pull his cock out of your cunt. His icy eyes roll back into the back of his head at the sight of his white cum dripping out of your abused hole alone with a trickle of crimson- the proof that he took your virginity.
You're all his now...
He lays down next to you and pulls you into his side. “Don't worry, Y/N. You're my girl now and I'll take very good care of you.” He assures you while covering you both with his duvet.
“I'm your girl now?” You ask with an arched brow.
“We'll talk more about it in the morning when you're a bit more sober.” Coriolanus kisses you, making you think that when you were in the thick of your tipsiness you must've agreed to get involved with him.
Oh hell, how strong was that wine to make you so tipsy that you became Professor Snow’s girlfriend?
“Just rest, baby. You're safe here with me.” The platinum blonde, whose arms are protectively wrapped around you, coos in his deep baritone; lulling you back to dreamland.
A place that you've been in and out of all night.
And as you doze off Coriolanus looks at you with obsession shining in his cerulean eyes and a manic grin spread across his face. The darkness in his soul's quelled with the thought that you're his forever now.
Oh, yes. Now that he's got you in his penthouse he's never letting you go. But before he can truly begin to be the doting and devoted boyfriend to you, he needs to get rid of Festus Creed- the old Academy friend that gave him the drug he spiked your wine with. Well, Coriolanus supposes that if he poisons him at a teahouse and drinks the poison as well, but in a smaller dose, he'll be able to kill two birds with one stone.
He'll get rid of Festus before he can talk and he'll get you moving into his penthouse to take care of him after a near death experience.
Snow lands on top. And who knows, maybe one day with your father's backing Coriolanus might be able to wiggle his way into politics. And if not, well he has you.
And that's all that truly matters, isn't it? It should, considering what dark deeds he did to get you into his bed.
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lovecla · 3 months ago
Text
IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.
extra: have you ever tried this one?
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➴ chapter warnings: smut (unprotected sex, p in v, pillow princess, use of sex toys, dacryphilia, subspace if you squint, overstimulation, lowkey dom!jack), brief aftercare.
➴ word count: 2k
💌 from me to you: wrote this instead of studying for my test tomorrow because IYLMLMK just hit 500 notes! is life even real? i don’t think so.. thank you all so much, i cannot express how much i adore every single one of you. i hope you guys are ready for this Short ‘N Horny extra chapter.
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“GUYS, THERE’S someone in the audience, and I’m, like, I’m getting flustered, I’m getting super hot.”
Loud cheers fill up the entire arena, as the red and blue lights flash across the screen and the camera focuses on Jack.
Jack smirks, crossing his arms in front of his chest, looking all cocky and confident. Luke and Nico stand beside him, and Luke looks cute and extremely overwhelmed with all the attention they were both getting.
“It’s the love of my life,” you say, making eye contact with him. You smile. “What’s your name?”
“Jack.” He shouts, and people yell even louder.
“Oh my God, you look just like Jack Hughes, do you know that?” you ask, and he nods, laughing. “Yeah. Do you get that a lot?”
He moves his head again, and you can tell he’s having the time of his life.
“Jack Hughes is definitely my celebrity crush so it’s so crazy that you look just like him,” you chuckle, the act you play every night never losing its fun. “And you’re even wearing a I love my girlfriend t-shirt.”
He nods again and pulls his shirt to the front, showing it to the camera, proudly. You had no idea he was going to wear that, but you love it nonetheless.
“I don’t know what to do,” you whine, looking around the arena, making eye contact with some of your fans. “Like, where are you from?”
“Here!” he replies, pointing down.
“You’re from New Jersey?” you ask, playing along. “Guys, that’s it. I’m moving to Newark next week.”
You can hear your fans cheering and shouting, and you laugh.
“What are you doing after the concert?” You ask, giving your dancers time to start preparing the fall of your skirt.
“You!” he smiles, and people shout even louder. You hide your mouth with your hand, the one who isn’t holding the microphone, blushing and smiling.
“You’re doing me?” you repeat, not expecting that answer at all. “Well, I’m literally so hot right now, like, my clothes—” your dancers unzip your skirt and it falls on your feet. “—are falling off and I’m really in love with you. Jack,” you walk on stage, feeling the cold breeze in your legs. “I’m so sorry but I’ll have to arrest you, you’re just too hot.”
You hand your security guard a pair of pink handcuffs and blow him a kiss, Juno’s first notes echoing through the arena.
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sophiamontenegro
Prudential Center, Newark, New Jersey
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sophiamontenegro welcome to the short and horny tour in new jersey, aka as the loudest crowd i’ve ever heard :,) thank you all for cummin! 💋
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morgan.grace jack might be okay but let’s all agree i was the finest person soph arrested to this day.
njdevils Everything is better in Jersey!
user1 SHE’S INSANE
user2 the tour isn’t even over yet and i already know no other concert will top this one.
user3 arresting your boyfriend for being too hot in front of 20,000 people is so cunty and diva of her
user4 JACK HUGHES YOU CANNOT FIGHT ALL OF US.
_quinnhughes Atta girl
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user5 jack in the last pic oh my god they look so good together
lhughes_06 What an interesting concept
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nicohischier Had the time of my life!!
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user7 the fact that she wore a red bodysuit and jack’s jersey on stage oh i know damn well jack’s proud
jackhughes Killed it baby
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AFTER YOU got out of the bathroom, Jack’s lips were all over you.
He trapped you against your bedroom wall, putting both of your hands above your head while bruising your lips with his, the taste of the Sour Patch Kids gummies filling up your mouth.
“Keep ‘em up there, pretty,” Jack whispers against your lips before kissing you again, running his right hand all over your body, touching you everywhere.
He quickly found your core, and even though you were exhausted and had just gotten out of the shower, you were undeniably wet already. Since he hadn’t even given you time to put on panties, his fingers met your clit with no interference or whatsoever.
You moan inside his mouth, closing your legs, squeezing his arm between your thighs. It’s frustrating how he knows your body like no one else, and how he knows the exact path to make you want to throw yourself off a cliff, in a good way.
“How is it going to be tonight, baby?” He asks, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses on your naked skin, making you close your eyes. “I asked you a question, popstar.”
Any other time you would’ve laughed at the stupid nickname he likes to call you sometimes, but now, with his finger rubbing lazy, slow circles in your throbbing clit and his mouth around your left nipple, sucking and marking it hard, nothing is really funny to you.
The opposite, actually.
“‘M tired,” you mumble.
“You’re tired?” he scoffs, letting go of your chest and looking down at you. His blue eyes look as mesmerizing as ever. “Want me to do all the work for you, is that it, mhm? Want me to put you on our bed and fuck you slowly, make you a true pillow princess?”
Pillow Princess sounded like the perfect title for you, if you were to be honest. Even though you don’t mind doing some of the work in bed, tonight you were in the mood of being taken care of, and letting Jack do whatever he wants with you.
You nod your head, up and down, eager for what he wants to give you. “Yeah,”
Jack chuckles, letting go of you completely. He points to the bed with his head, and you walk towards it on the tip of your toes. Laying down, you put your head on your pillow, feeling the soft fabric of your expensive sheets prickle your skin and make you sigh, relieved that you were finally able to lay down after hours of dancing, singing and jumping.
Jack removes his shirt and boxers, and you bite your lip, shamelessly staring at his cock, one of the things you loved so much about him— and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.
“We’re going to do things a little bit different tonight,” he grins, opening his bedside table drawer, looking for something. “I know you want me to do all the hard work, but you’ll have to help me a little.”
You’re about to pout and complain when you notice what he’s holding— a magic wand, something Grace, always the unhinged, crazy friend, gave you last Christmas. It’s pink and not too big, just the right size to make you see stars.
“Jack.” You moan, squeezing your thighs together. He doesn’t answer, just closes the drawer and gets on the bed, standing on his knees in front of you.
He gives you a brief kiss before turning the sex toy on, lowering until it finds your swollen, engorged clit. It’s not even the highest setting yet it makes you moan loudly all the same.
He runs the wand up and down on you, playing with it like it is just a normal toy and he’s testing it out for the first time.
“Does it feel good, pretty?” He asks, smiling like the little shit he’s always been, ever since your first night together.
“Y-yeah.” You say, biting your lips and squeezing the sheets between your fingers.
He clicks his tongue, pretending to be upset. “You’re still speaking so I guess I’m not doing a good job.”
He changes the settings, and suddenly the wand feels like it’s going faster and harder. You scream, closing your legs instinctively, just to have his hands spreading them open again. You’re shaking your head, your orgasm building faster since it’s been a minute since the last time you and Jack had had sex— touring makes it kind of hard for both of you to be together.
“Are you gonna come?”
“Mhm,” you moan, nodding and looking at him with needy eyes, wet lips and flushed cheeks. “Yes, fuck, yes—”
You’re not even done talking when you start to come, the pearly white liquid coming out of you, making you grab your hair harshly between your fingers.
And just when you think you’re done—
“Hold this,” Jack orders, giving you the wand and making you hold it. You’re shaking, but you manage to hold the vibrating object with your right hand.
He doesn’t wait a second more before slamming his dick hard inside you, stretching your insides and widening you at once. And this time you scream loudly, your already tired vocal cords working extra hard, because he feels so fucking good inside you it has your own head spinning.
“You’re fucking tight, Soph,” he says, and you can tell even him is struggling to keep himself from coming. His hair looks beautiful, glued to his forehead and his cheeks look as flushed as yours. “This is ridiculous.”
“Jack,”
“Put that shit on you, Soph,” he hisses, putting his hand on top of yours and placing the wand on your clit again, making you trash against bed, shaking your head from side to side. “Hold it there and don’t fucking move it. If you take it off, I’m pulling out of you.”
“No,” you mumble, not sure of how to put the words together, since all you brain seems to think about is how full you are and how you’re deliciously hurting from all the attention on your pussy.
It’s messy and it’s wet. Jack grabs your waist and lifts your hips up, just a little bit, and slams his dick hard and deep inside you, while the toy works on your clit nonstop.
You’re coming again in less than five minutes, which has never happened before, no matter how crazy you and Jack are when it comes to sex.
You feel yourself pulling the wand back because you’re so fucking sensitive but when you feel Jack pulling out of you at the same time, you immediately feel tears forming in your eyes.
“No.” You whisper again, shaking your head.
Don’t pull out, please.
“Keep it on your clit, Soph,” he shakes his head. “You don’t want me to stop fucking you, do you?”
You shake your head, ashamed of how your tears were flooding your face and wetting your cheeks, but you couldn’t stop them.
Jack slowly enters you again, gently wiping your face with his thumb, smiling softly, looking like the complete opposite of what he’s saying.
“Then do as I fucking say, sweetheart.”
You do, placing the vibrator back on your pussy, crying out loud when you feel it overstimulating you to the max. If you could see anything past the tears in your eyes, you’d see how red your pussy looks, swollen and so wet it’s almost embarrassing.
Jack keeps fucking you with strength, and you keep crying and shaking. You’re nothing but a sobbing mess under Jack’s toned body, but all your focus is on making him satisfied.
“Doing so well for me, aren’t you, baby?” he asks while he pounds inside you. “Laying there and looking pretty, while I fuck my cock so deep inside you I can almost see it.”
His left hand lets go of your waist and he presses it on your tummy, applying just enough pressure to make you bite your lips, hard, in order to keep your screams to yourself.
He keeps it there for the rest of the time he fucks you, and even though your brain is all foggy and gray, you notice he’s right: you can almost feel him through your tummy, which also had never happened before.
If you weren’t already so freaking in love with him, you’re sure you’d fall in love with Jack Hughes right here and now.
“Fuck,” he moans and it’s like angels singing in your ear. “Give me one more, baby.”
You can barely register what he says, you just let yourself go— wetting your sheets once again. And it’s like all of your limbs turn into jelly, and you can feel yourself slowly letting go of that always alert state of mind, handing your needs and wants in Jack’s hands, like you often did whenever the two of you had sex.
“Fucking hell,” you hear him, distant, and you can feel when he removes the toy from your grip and his dick from you, shooting his load on your used, gaping pussy. “Fucking hell, Soph.”
The next few minutes are spent in silence, with both you and Jack trying to make your breathing normal again. He lays on top of you, not putting any of his body weight on you, just resting his forehead against yours.
He kisses you sweetly, bringing you back to him like he always did whenever you felt too weak to do it yourself.
“I love you, Soph.”
You open your eyes and stare at him, smiling when you find him already looking at you.
“I love you more, actually.”
He chuckles, kissing your cheeks and laughing afterwards. “I definitely made you Juno, though.”
“Jack!”
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sophmontenegronews
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sophmontenegronews Tonight was Sophia’s “Short ‘N Sweet” 13th concert, this time in Newark, New Jersey! Completely sold out! 😍
The person arrested tonight was her boyfriend Jack Hughes, who went to the concert with his younger brother Luke Hughes and his team’s captain, Nico Hischier!
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user1 look at her face looking at Jack omg we lost her
user2 does anyone know tonight’s pose?
user3 user2 reverse cowgirl!
user2 user3 WILD!! how did Jack react to that?
user3 user2 from the videos i’ve seen he just laughed and mouthed “yes” lmfao i guess they have tried that one already
user4 she’s perfect
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focusonkayjay · 3 months ago
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between the ride and the roses (8)
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff
Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.
Word count: 3.7k
Chapter Warnings: tensionnnn, seokjin (you'll see why)
A/N: literally fell in love with this jugnkook as i was writing this chapter. something abt him makes my heart flutter like why don't i have a man like this. AHHHH is the chemistry chemistrying for you guys? let me know your thoughts hehehehe.
part 8: when the camellia revs
The fairgrounds buzz with life as preparations continue, but you manage to steal a quiet moment under the shade of an old oak tree. The wooden bench you share with Sunjae feels like a small oasis amidst the hustle. Around you, the rhythmic sounds of hammering, laughter, and the shuffle of footsteps continue. Yet here, with Sunjae beside you, it feels as though time slows down.
A mischievous glint sparks in your eyes as you nudge him lightly. “So…” you begin, dragging the word out, savoring the way his ears turn pink before you’ve even finished the sentence. “How’s the boyfriend?” you giggle.
Sunjae tries to mask his shyness, but it’s a futile effort. He rubs the back of his neck, his smile growing wider by the second. “Yeonjun’s great." he admits, his voice soft but brimming with affection.
“We moved in together recently, and honestly? It’s been... perfect. He’s been crazy busy with work, but he still does these little things, you know? Leaves notes in my lunchbox, surprises me with flowers. The other day, he even cooked me dinner because I was too tired. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” he says, unable to hide his smile.
Your heart warms at his words. Seeing Sunjae so smitten makes your chest swell with pride and happiness for your best friend. “Oh, please.” you scoff, grinning. “You deserve every ounce of that happiness and so much more. If anyone’s lucky, it’s Yeonjun for having you.” you admit.
Sunjae chuckles, the light in his eyes undeniable. “You always know what to say to make me feel like I’m not completely fumbling through life.” As he speaks, he paints vivid pictures of their life together... how they met at a seminar, how Yeonjun’s attempts at karaoke had sealed the deal, and their shared dream of opening a quaint café someday. You can’t help but smile at his happiness, the way his words pour out like a gentle stream.
“You look well.” you say once he finishes, your voice soft but sincere. “I'm so happy for you, Jae.” you comment and he smiles at the nickname. It feels like he hasn't heard that in ages.
He beams at you, his grin infectious. “I could say the same for you, Y/n. You look… peaceful. I'm guessing your business is doing well, huh?” Before you can reply, an enthusiastic voice interrupts.
“Sunjae? No way!”
You glance up to see Taehyung striding towards you, his wide grin lighting up his face. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Juwon follow close behind, all breaking into delighted smiles at the sight of your old friend.
“Still stealing Y/n’s time, huh?” Taehyung teases, pulling Sunjae into a warm hug. “Some things never change.” Sunjae shrugs as he pulls away, looking towards the others.
The bench becomes a hub of lively chatter as introductions, laughter, and playful jabs fly around. Though Sunjae had grown closer to you over the years, his bond with your group remained intact, and their warmth feels as natural as breathing.
//
The next day dawns with a golden hue spilling across the horizon, but the calm of the morning doesn’t last long. As the sun rises higher, the town square transforms into a hive of activity, buzzing with a sense of urgency. The fair is just a day away, and it seems like everyone is working double-time to ensure everything is perfect.
Vendors rush to set up their stalls, the sound of hammers striking nails mingling with the rustle of fabric as colorful banners and canopies are hoisted into place. Children dart around, their laughter piercing through the air as they weave between workers. Volunteers carry boxes of supplies, their voices blending into a symphony of instructions, encouragement, and occasional exasperation.
You’re busier than ever, balancing tasks between your flower shop and the fair. Deliveries need to be organized, decorations have to be finalized, and last-minute adjustments seem to crop up at every corner. Even as you wipe the sweat from your brow, there’s a sense of exhilaration in the air, the anticipation of tomorrow’s festivities driving everyone forward.
Sunjae is bustling around too, overseeing the setup of a handmade crafts stall he’s managing. Every now and then, he glances your way, offering a quick thumbs-up or a smile, his own excitement mirrored in your expressions.
By mid-morning, your friends have gathered to help where ever they can. Namjoon is reviewing schedules, his meticulous nature ensuring no detail is overlooked.
Seokjin is joking with some of the younger volunteers, lightening the mood despite the frenzy. Juwon is coordinating with the food vendors, her authoritative tone cutting through the chatter, while Taehyung flits between tasks, his energy boundless.
And then there’s Jungkook.
You catch glimpses of him every now and then, his leather jacket swapped for a simple black tee, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed arm as he unloads heavy crates. The sight of it snaps something inside you and you have to look away to collect yourself.
He works silently but efficiently, his brows furrowed in concentration. Despite the chaos around him, he carries an air of calm focus that you can’t help but notice.
Occasionally, your eyes meet across the crowded square. Each time, it’s fleeting, just a moment before one of you looks away, but it’s enough to send a ripple of something unspoken through the air.
The hours blur together as the sun climbs higher. Despite the hectic pace, there’s a shared unity among the volunteers, an understanding that they’re all working towards something meaningful.
By late afternoon, the square is almost unrecognizable, transformed into a vibrant space brimming with life and color.
But as you glance at the clock, you know there’s still more to be done. The final stretch is here, and tomorrow, the town will come alive in a way that makes all the effort worthwhile.
For now, you push forward, the excitement bubbling beneath the surface, ready to see it all come to life.
//
As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the fairgrounds, Mr. Jung’s voice booms from the gazebo. “Everyone! Can I have your attention?” he calls, clapping his hands. The volunteers pause their work, turning to face him.
“To thank all of you for your hard work, we’re hosting a little barbecue right here tonight." Mr. Jung announces, his smile wide. “Consider it a token of our appreciation. You’ve earned it!”
A ripple of cheers and applause follows, and your friends exchange gleeful glances. “Free food?” Seokjin exclaims, clutching his chest as if overwhelmed. “It’s a dream come true.”
“I’m claiming the first plate!” Juwon declares, practically bouncing on her toes. “Not if I get there first,” Taehyung counters, already sprinting toward the gazebo.
The group bursts into laughter, following him in a loose, carefree parade. The atmosphere is electric, buzzing with excitement for the evening ahead. After days of hard work, this feels like the perfect way to unwind... a celebration of effort, friendship, and shared memories.
As the preparations wind down and the golden hour fades into twilight, the barbecue at the gazebo comes alive. Bright fairy lights strung around the wooden structure cast a warm glow over the gathering, making the evening feel almost magical.
The air is filled with the enticing aroma of grilled meat and roasted vegetables, mingling with the faint scent of flowers still lingering from the day’s decorations.
You find yourself seated on the cool grass with Sunjae and your friends, the laughter and chatter creating a cozy bubble around you. Plates of food are passed around as everyone digs in, their voices blending with the soft strumming of a guitar someone brought along.
Namjoon is in the middle of telling a ridiculous story about one of his childhood escapades, which has Seokjin doubling over with laughter while Taehyung and Juwon argue about its authenticity.
The atmosphere is laid-back yet so so rewarding, just a close-knit group of volunteers unwinding after days of hard work. It’s one of those rare moments when you feel completely at peace.
Sunjae leans back beside you, his head tilted towards the sky as he points out a constellation he learned from Yeonjun. His excitement makes you smile, and you can’t help but feel immense joy for your best friend, who seems to have found his place and love in this world.
But amidst the relaxing chaos, there’s a tension simmering not far from where you sit. Jungkook has arrived with Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin, finally all done with their work for tomorrow.
The group makes their way to the grill, exchanging greetings and grabbing plates of food. Jungkook, however, doesn’t linger with his friends. His gaze immediately shifts to you, sitting closely with Sunjae, the man whose name he had just learned, as both of you laugh together.
His jaw tightens as he observes you leaning towards Sunjae, smiling so brightly it feels like the world revolves around you in that moment. And the man beside you... the same one from earlier who’d already occupied far too much of your attention is the cause of that smile. Jungkook feels his grip on his plate tighten, the urge to look away battling with the undeniable pull of watching you.
Throughout the evening, he steals glances at you. It’s infuriating how effortlessly you seem to light up the space around you. You laugh, tease Taehyung about his mismatched socks, and playfully swat Sunjae’s arm when he mimics Seokjin’s dramatic storytelling. Each stolen glance chips away at Jungkook’s resolve to keep his distance, leaving him restless.
As the night deepens, the cool evening breeze carries with it a sense of tranquility. The gazebo grows quieter, with fewer people remaining. Mrs. Kim, an elderly woman who’s been a pillar of the town’s volunteer efforts for years, approaches you with a soft smile.
“Y/n-ah, can you please fill my water bottle for me? They seem to have run out of water here, and I need to take my medicines now that I’ve eaten.” she says, holding out the bottle. “Your shop is nearby, so I thought I’d ask.”
You nod immediately, rising to your feet. “Of course, Mrs. Kim. I’ll be right back.” you reply warmly, taking the bottle from her. Your shop, just a few meters away from the gazebo, is still illuminated from earlier in the day.
Jungkook watches the interaction from his spot, his gaze sharpening as you walk off into the night with your usual grace. His chest tightens, and before he realizes it, his feet are moving.
He doesn’t know what compels him, but the idea of you being alone, even for a short while sends a strange urgency coursing through him.
Leaving his friends behind, who are too engrossed in their conversations to notice his sudden departure, he slips away. The cool breeze brushes past him as he strides towards your shop, his heart pounding in his chest.
He doesn’t know what he plans to say or do when he catches up to you, but he’s sure of one thing... he can’t keep this longing bottled up any longer.
The bell above the door jingles softly as you enter your flower shop, the familiar scent of blooms and fresh greenery enveloping you. The quiet of the shop contrasts sharply with the lively chatter of the barbecue behind you, making the space feel almost sacred.
You step past the counter and towards the storeroom, where your water filter is kept. It’s a cozy, tucked-away space filled with neatly labeled boxes of vases, floral foam, and ribbons.
The faint hum of the filter greets you as you flick on the light, placing the water bottle on the counter.
Humming softly to yourself, you begin filling it, the cool water rushing steadily into the bottle. While you're still inside, the shop’s door creaks open again and you don't really hear it.
Jungkook steps inside, his boots making almost no sound against the wooden floor as he closes the door behind him, careful not to alert you. The warm glow of the shop lights reflects off the rows of flower arrangements on display, casting soft shadows on the walls.
As he takes a step further in, his gaze locks onto the passage leading to the storeroom. It’s a narrow corridor lined with shelves holding tools and floral supplies. He knows you’re just beyond it. His pulse quickens, his resolve faltering for a brief second before he moves forward, his boots brushing lightly against the polished floor.
In the storeroom, you screw the cap back onto the filled water bottle, ready to return to the barbecue. Just as you turn around, you nearly jump out of your skin at the sight of Jungkook standing in the doorway.
“Jungkook?” you ask, startled. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. His dark eyes meet yours, intense and unreadable, and for a moment, the small storeroom feels even smaller. His shoulders are broad, nearly filling the frame of the doorway, and his presence is so palpable it makes your breath hitch.
“I… I saw you leave,” he finally says, his voice low and rough. “Thought I’d check if you needed help.”
You blink at him, confused. “It’s just water, Jungkook. I can manage.” He steps further into the room, closing the door halfway behind him. The quiet hum of the water filter fills the silence between you.
“I know…” he admits, his gaze never leaving yours. “But… I just… I had to see you.”
There’s something in his tone... hesitation, maybe desperation, or even vulnerability that catches you off guard. You clutch the water bottle tighter, unsure of what to say. The tension in the air feels almost unbearable, like a string stretched too thin between you, threatening to snap.
“Why?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know.” he admits, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I just… uhh... seeing you with him...”
“Sunjae?” you interject, your brows knitting in confusion. The name tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.
The effect is immediate. Jungkook takes a sudden step forward, his entire frame taut with an energy that feels almost dangerous. His eyes darken, their intensity cutting through you like a blade. “Don’t say his name.” he murmurs, his tone low, sharp, and commanding.
The air between you shifts. When did it get this heavy? You don’t even realize you’re retreating until your back meets the cold wall behind you.
A shiver runs down your spine, though you’re not sure if it’s the chill of the wall or the heat radiating from Jungkook’s advancing figure. The room feels smaller now, the walls closing in, leaving only him and the electricity thrumming between you.
He’s close... too close... and yet not close enough. But he inches forward, the words still hang in the air, and Jungkook hesitates, his frustration now palpable. He reaches out, his hands finding your waist, pulling you towards him. The water bottle slips from your hold, rolling away across the floor.
You’re not sure when the line between resistance and surrender blurred, but here you are, breath hitching as Jungkook’s grip tightens, pulling your body flush against his. The space between seems to vanish.
This moment, so surreal and unexpected, pulls you in. You don’t understand it, but who are you to question it? It feels like this is exactly what you've been craving for days... months... even years.
The warmth of him envelops you, igniting a fire in your chest that spreads to your fingertips. It’s overwhelming and terrifying, but it’s also exhilarating.
“Jungkook…” you whisper, breathless, feeling his body as he pulls you in even closer. His grip tightens, pulling your waist to his as he presses you against the wall, your bodies completely aligned now.
The room seems to shrink, too small, too warm with him so close. His eyes search yours, as if looking for something, and you meet his gaze. His hands, tentative but urgent, slightly slide under the hem of your top near your waist, his fingertips cold against your skin.
You part your lips, letting out a shaky breath, your body responding instinctively. He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours, both of you closing your eyes in the quiet intimacy. The world outside seems to pause, as if holding its breath, waiting for what might happen next.
Your knees weaken, and you grip the collar of his t-shirt, pulling him in closer. The distance between you is evaporating, but just as it feels like everything is about to shift, a loud bang of your store's front door opening from outside the storeroom causes both of you to snap apart, startled.
“Y/n!!!” Seokjin’s voice rings out, cutting through the silence. Him again? Really? you wonder, frustration mixing with embarrassment. This is the second time now.
“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, his hands instinctively covering his face, a flush of heat rushing through him as he tries to regain control of his rapidly escalating emotions.
Seokjin’s voice blares again, louder this time, and that’s when it hits you. He cannot see you like this, especially not with Jungkook.
“Fuck.” you curse under your breath, panic rising. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You scramble to move away from Jungkook, quickly grabbing the water bottle that had been abandoned on the floor.
Jungkook’s eyes widen in confusion, his head tilting slightly. Before he can ask, you hurriedly whisper. “He can’t know you’re in here!” Your voice is urgent, shaking slightly as you glance towards the storeroom door.
Realization dawns upon him like a light switch, and he nods. You're right, someone catching the two of you alone in a secluded space like this? Not good. He rakes his hand through his hair, already understanding how awkward this would look.
“Stay here until you hear us leave.” you plead, your voice barely audible but dripping with desperation. “Please don’t come out for at least five minutes. Promise me!”
Jungkook leans against the wall, arms crossed, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite your panic. “Five minutes?” he repeats, teasing lightly, but he nods all the same.
“Yes, five.” you insist, holding up your palm in a gesture for emphasis, fingers spread wide. You’re already backing towards the door, the water bottle clutched tightly in your hands. “Y/n-ah! Are you done yet?” Seokjin’s voice echoes again, impatient.
You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep, calming breath before yelling back. “Coming, Jin !! Just give me a sec !!”
Jungkook chuckles quietly at your flustered state, finding your panic oddly amusing. “You’re really worked up about this, huh?” he lowly murmurs, clearly entertained.
“Not the time.” you hiss, glaring at him before stealing a quick peek behind the door to check if Seokjin has entered the passage. Thankfully, it’s still clear. “Five whole minutes, got it?” you repeat, your tone stern, gesturing the number with your palm again for emphasis.
Jungkook leans casually against the shelf, his smirk growing. “Yes, boss.” he teases lightly, earning an exasperated roll of your eyes. Satisfied, you push the storeroom door open just enough to slip out. But as Jungkook watches you leave, his amusement is replaced by surprise when you suddenly pause.
Before he can process what’s happening, you turn on your heel and bolt back towards him, still clutching the water bottle in your hands. His eyes widen in confusion.
You don’t give yourself a second to overthink it. Standing on your tiptoes, you press a quick, feather like kiss on his cheek. Your lips linger for just a heartbeat before you pull away, the warmth of his skin burning against your own.
“I’ll see you out there.” you whisper, your voice soft and rushed, like a secret carried on the wind. And then you’re gone. The door creaks shut behind you, leaving Jungkook standing there, frozen in your storeroom. His hand slowly rises to touch his cheek where your kiss still lingers, his pulse racing.
An amused chuckle escapes him, low and disbelieving. He doesn’t move for a moment, still processing, before shaking his head with a small laugh.
Five minutes, huh? He’ll give you ten, if only to catch his breath.
//
Seokjin is here because, unbeknownst to you, you’d been gone far longer than you realized. As the two of you step out of the shop, his curious gaze falls on you. “What took you so long?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with mild concern.
Your mind races, briefly recollecting the moments that delayed you. Heat rises to your cheeks, but you quickly mask it, shrugging as you reply. “The water filter was acting up.”
Seokjin nods, accepting your explanation without question, and together, you make your way back to the bustle of the town square. The hum of laughter and chatter grows louder as you rejoin the crowd gathered near the gazebo.
Spotting Mrs. Kim, you walk over, handing her the filled water bottle with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry for the delay.” you say earnestly. She waves you off with a warm smile, her kind demeanor easing the guilt that lingers in your chest. “It’s no trouble, dear... Thank you.” she sweetly says.
Minutes pass as you blend into the sea of familiar faces. Yet, your gaze is restless, scanning the space almost instinctively until it lands on him.
Jungkook.
He crosses the street with practiced ease, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he moves towards the gazebo where his friends sit. Though he tries to appear nonchalant, there’s a subtle weight to his stride, as though he’s aware of your eyes on him.
As he reaches his group and takes a seat, his dark eyes flicker across the crowd, until they lock with yours. And this time, the glance isn’t fleeting.
For the first time, the world doesn’t rush to pull you apart. His gaze holds yours, steady and unguarded, and you feel the edges of the universe blur. A shy smile tugs at his lips, one that mirrors your own, and in that moment, the air shifts.
It’s as though the tension that had wrapped so tightly around you both has unraveled, replaced by something gentler, warmer, a connection that hums like a quiet melody between your souls.
The world around you fades into a hazy backdrop. The night feels alive, not with chaos, but with a strange, unspoken understanding that flows between you and him like an electric current.
Soon enough, the barbecue flames dwindle, leaving behind glowing embers, and the volunteers begin to disperse, bidding each other goodnight. The air fills with the promise of something grand, a collective anticipation for tomorrow's fair.
The town settles under a blanket of stars, its streets shimmering with the preparations for the festivities to come. As your friends get ready to leave for the night, you glance towards the gazebo one last time, catching a glimpse of Jungkook as he laughs at something Yoongi says. He doesn’t look your way again, but that’s okay.
With a deep breath, you let the cool night air fill your lungs and start walking towards your shop, ready to lock up and head home. A quiet sense of peace settles within you, as if the evening had unfolded just as it was meant to... full of moments both subtle and meaningful.
<- part 7 // part 9 ->
series masterlist
taglist:@kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey @shellyyy177 @daskewl @blackswan18 @korian97 @minimoninini @ericawantstoescape (lmk if i missed anyone<3)
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spideystevie · 7 months ago
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bad for business
summary: steve’s good for your heart but he’s really bad for business word count: 4.5k a/n: me every time i post after being mia for months: who’s missed me! this was technically supposed to be inspired by bad for business by sabrina carpenter and then suddenly it wasn’t. not even sure there’s much of a plot but alas! also feel a little rusty at this right now, it’s been a while since i’ve really written anything but i’ve missed steve a crazy insane amount. love you, miss you, hope you all enjoy this <3
You’re late. You’re never late. 
The bell above the door to Dottie’s jingles as you hurry inside. Your fingers work on muscle memory to tie your apron around your waist as you slide through the mismatched seating arrangements inside the diner to get to the back office. 
You’re not sure if the way your stomach flips is from it being full of a single gulp of coffee or because it’s more than an hour past when you should’ve been here. The time punch on your card reads 9:07 am and your stomach lurches. Definitely not the coffee. 
It’s a Sunday, arguably your busiest day in the diner and arguably the worst day for you to show up like this. No doubt Dottie has noticed but you’re hoping against hope that she didn’t. God, what are you going to tell her?
Sorry Dottie! My super hot, super charming boyfriend wouldn’t let me out of bed this morning! Won’t happen again! 
Your face feels warm, like you’ve just spent an extensive amount of time in the sun in the middle of July. You knew you shouldn’t have stayed over last night, but you were so tired and Steve’s couch is way more comfier than yours. It really doesn’t help that his bed isn’t any different. 
“Lots of traffic this morning?” you jump, notepad falling out of your hand. Susan starts to snicker as you drop down to pick it up. There’s a smirk on her face when you rise to full height. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her name tag is crooked on her apron. You’re not sure you’d consider Susan one of your closest friends but you find yourselves pulled together considering she’s the only other young person working here. 
“Oh you know…,” your voice rises in pitch and you clear your throat, hitching one shoulder up to your ear in a shrug. “Sometimes you just hit every red.”
Susan’s eyes narrow. There’s only one working light on your usual route to work. Coming from Steve’s adds only two. Not to mention, you didn’t drive yourself today. Steve dropped you off, promising to pick you up at 4 on the dot when your shift ended. Susan pops her gum in her mouth, not convinced with your fib.
“Right.”
“Yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me, Cliff is waiting for me in his usual booth,” you hurry past before she can ask you anything incriminatory. You hear Dottie before you see her, on your way to grab the coffee pot. 
“You feeling okay, sweetie? You’re normally here right on the dot. An hour isn’t like you.”
Dottie’s older than most and she’s been running the diner outside Hawkins for a whopping 30 years now. She hangs out behind the counter and loves to chat with the regulars and get to know those just passing through. With rosy cheeks and gray streaked hair almost always pulled out of her face in a bun, she’s almost like another mom with how long you’ve been working here. 
You snag the excuse she basically throws you out of the air. 
“Had a bit of a rough night, but I’m feeling a lot better now, Dot. Didn’t realize I had overslept until I heard the birds chirping outside. It won’t happen again,” you say. 
You didn’t oversleep actually. Whatever natural circadian clock inside of you wakes you up at almost the same time every workday but Steve can be quite convincing when he wants to be. Your heart does a little sigh of his name. Steve. You swallow and try to blink away the image of him.
Dottie gives you a sympathetic smile with a concerned tilt of the head, taking your flustered mannerisms and the way you wipe your palms against the sides of your jeans as lingering symptoms of whatever she thinks ailed you last night. She squeezes your bicep, the press of her mixed metal rings cool against your skin.
“Take it easy today, okay? You let me know if you need anything.”
“Course, Dottie. Thank you,” you give her a smile and grab the coffee pot. 
Cliff sits at the same spot every morning. A little booth along the window wall, three down from the door to the diner. He looks a bit rough around the edges, his coat well loved and worn and his hands weathered from years of hard work. He’s worn the same baseball cap every time you’ve seen him and he’s always got a copy of the morning paper open and propped in front of his face. 
He spots you out of the corner of his eye and scoots his empty mug closer to the table’s edge. You smile and pour the coffee, leaving enough room for his two packets of Sweet ‘n’ Low to be stirred in. 
“Anything new this morning, Cliff?” 
You’ve only known Cliff on his own, but you know he used to come with his late wife Winnie for coffee every morning before she passed. He’d summarize the big news and events and she’d do the crosswords on the back. Now, you let him summarize to you and he leaves the paper on the table for you. You do the crosswords on your break. 
“Same old, same old. They’re thinking about rebuilding the mall that burned down in Hawkins a few summers ago. You hear anything about that?” He sets the paper down to the right of his coffee mug and grabs two pink packets of sweetener. You watch him tear the paper and pour them in. When he looks at you, you shake your head. 
“First time I’m hearing of it. My boyfriend used to work there before it…you know,” you mention, unable to stop the morsel of information from slipping out. A twinkle sparks in Cliff’s eye, a small smile on his face as he diverts his attention back to his mug. The spoon he’s stirring with clinks against the coffee stained ceramic walls. 
“Are you ever gonna bring this boyfriend of yours around here so I can actually see that he’s real?” He’s teasing, tapping the handle of the spoon against the rim of the mug and setting it in the gap between the coffee and the newspaper. You roll your eyes but a smile lifts your cheeks. 
“I don’t know if that’d be too good for business around here,” you joke. 
“And was he the reason you were late giving me my coffee this morning?” He's quick to cover his smirk with the coffee mug as he takes a sip. Your mouth falls agape and you fluster, shaking your head and laughing shakily. 
“Ha ha, very funny, Cliff. No, he was not. There was traffic!” Cliff makes a face at this and you don’t blame him. Has the traffic excuse ever worked for living in a small town, you wonder. “And I had a rough night and accidentally overslept, is all.”
He grabs his morning paper again and opens it up. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
The rest of the morning starts to fly by in a blur. You recite your favorites off the menu to a couple passing through from Chicago. Refill Cliff’s coffee twice, each time dodging whatever he tries to insinuate about your tardiness this morning. Sneak an extra pancake onto little Sofie’s plate with a wink. The early morning breakfast rush blows through and things start to quiet down. 
You’re wiping down the table adjacent to Cliff’s booth. His mug is empty and he’s left the paper for you like usual. The bell rings as he opens the door to leave. 
“See you tomorrow, Cliff!” you call after him and he raises a hand in a wave as he walks through the door, thanking the young man that holds it for him. 
You have to do a double take as you swipe the paper off the table. It’s not just any young man in passing holding the door, no it’s Steve coming inside Dottie’s. It’s Steve standing at the entrance in his usual Levi’s and a white tee with sleeves that seem to strain around his biceps with windswept hair and a bright smile when he sees you. 
There goes your heart again with the sigh of his name. Steve. Though maybe this time you think it was your voice instead, airy and soft. You can’t believe he’s here. It’s nowhere near 4’o’clock. You’re aware of Dottie’s eyes on you behind the counter and Susan’s from across the diner and nearly every regular scattered about as well. 
Your knees wobble at the sight of him, the disbelief fading away and giddy smile falling into place as he meets you next to Cliff’s booth. Cliff, who’s standing outside the diner and staring and you worry he might come back inside to hound you and insist you introduce him, but he doesn’t. 
Steve wraps an arm around your waist, fingers hot against the side of your stomach through the layers of your apron and shirt, and dips to press a kiss to your cheek in greeting. There’s a rush of a swoon that goes down to your toes, the bulk of it getting stuck in your abdomen and swirling like crazy.
You’re in the middle of a greasy old diner but Steve’s somehow tucked you away from prying eyes and into your own little safety bubble. He’ll be the death of you one day. Your heart’ll just keep expanding until it can’t fit inside your ribcage anymore and has no choice but to explode from adoration and kill you. 
“What are you doing here?” you wonder aloud, eyes scanning all around his face, taking in every freckle and crinkle and mole. You pause for a minute on his lips and then you blink and find his eyes. He’s smiling at you, in a way that tells you he caught that and you feel struck by that feeling of being caught in the July sun again. He looks around the diner and everyone’s attention goes back to what they were doing before.
“Thought I’d surprise you! Also, it’s supposed to rain later and you didn’t take a jacket so I brought you one.”
Only then do you notice the gray fabric in his other hand and your heart twists and flips and oh god, you think this might be the moment it explodes. He presses it into your hands, the newspaper crinkling against it. 
“What’s that?” he asks as you go to thank him. Your brow cinches for a minute before it smooths in comprehension.
“Oh! Cliff,” you point towards the door he’d just walked through, “one of the regulars, leaves the paper behind for me every morning so I can do the crosswords. A little tradition we’ve got going on.”
“A tradition? Should I be concerned?” He jokes and you laugh. 
“Oh, definitely. Cliff’s your biggest competition,” you throw back and now it’s his turn to laugh. A glittering light fills your chest. You glance over to where Dottie is engaged in conversation with a middle aged woman just passing through. She can’t hear you from this far but you drop your voice nonetheless. “No but, he did give me a bit of a hard time about his coffee being almost an hour late this morning.”
At your pointed look and sly smile, Steve winces, fingers pressing a quick squeeze against your side. An embarrassed blush blooms on his cheeks, bridging across his nose. “Right. Sorry.”
“Forgiven,” you lean up to press the quickest flash of a kiss to his cheek. You wrap your arms around the newspaper and jacket, holding them to your chest. “Do you wanna sit for a minute? I can get you some coffee? Although be warned, Dottie might come up and talk to you.”
His arm drops from around your waist and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, coffee sounds great.”
You smile and motion him into Cliff’s booth. When he sits, he insists on holding onto the jacket and newspaper for you and you let him. He watches you take Cliff’s mug away and walk to Dottie behind the counter to get him a fresh one.
Dottie bumps her hip with yours as you pass and you give her a look. The pot’s nearly empty and you wait the few minutes it takes for it to fill, eyes catching on Steve while you wait. He’s stopped staring and has instead taken interest in the comics in the paper. 
“He’s handsome,” Dottie’s voice snaps you back into your senses. You glance at her and she’s got a special look in her eyes to match the smile on her face. You check the coffee pot that’s filling up quicker than normal. But your focus drifts back over to Steve, who senses your gaze and looks over to you and flashes a big grin. 
“Yeah,” you sigh, “he is.”
Dottie looks between the two of you and then takes a look around the diner. It’s not the usual Sunday hustle and bustle, post early breakfast rush and the impending rain could be the indicator for that. She's got Susan and Judy’ll be coming in any minute now and Pam right after at 12. When she looks back at you, you’re watching the last few drops of coffee fall into the pot. 
“Take the rest of the day,” Dottie says. Your eyes snap up to meet hers over the coffee pot between you.
“What?”
“Go sit and have coffee with that boy of yours and then go home,” it doesn’t sound like a suggestion, more like an order but you look around the diner and hesitate. 
“Dottie, it's Sunday. I can’t just leave this early on our busiest day of the week.”
“There’ll be other Sundays busier than this one. And you need your rest after the night you had. We’ll be okay, now go,” she pushes. You bite back a smile as you relent, kissing Dottie on the cheek as you pass with the full coffee pot and two mugs gripped tightly in your other hand. She shakes her head watching you cross back to the third booth from the door. 
Steve lights up when you enter his line of sight but his brow furrows at the two mugs held in your left hand. You set them on the table and fill them both with the fresh coffee before setting the pot down on the table. He watches you slide into the empty spot in front of him. The same place you assume Winnie occupied when she’d come here with Cliff. 
“Dottie’s letting me off early,” you say, grabbing an almost obscene amount of Sweet ‘n’ Low packets and dumping them into your mug. “Can you hand me a creamer?”
Steve finds himself staring at you, doctoring your diner coffee to how you like it, hearts for eyes and a wistful smile taking permanent residency on his face. When he doesn’t hand you the creamer right away, you look up, only a little confused but mostly amused at the blatant and overwhelming display of admiration across his features. 
“Steve?”
He blinks in quick succession and clumsily reaches for a creamer while you giggle and god, it’s killing him that he hasn’t kissed you right yet since he’s been here. You hold out your hand and he sets the mini pod on your palm, your fingers brushing his as they enclose around it with a thank you. 
He watches you finish stirring in the creamer, the coffee in your cup now a light shade of brown. You take a sip, both palms wrapped around the mug and your eyes on his when you set it down on the table. 
“You look nice,” you say, eyes dropping down to the simple white tee he’s wearing. When you look back up at his face, his smile is cheeky and his cheeks are flushed. It takes an incredible amount of self restraint not to kiss him across the table.
“Yeah? The plain white tee is really doing it for you?” he leans closer over the table, voice dropped just the slightest bit. You mirror his movement almost like there’s a magnet pulling the two of you together. Steve pulls one of your hands into his, weaving your fingers together across the table. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” there’s a flirtatious thrum in your voice that makes Steve grin. His mouth opens to respond, another silly flirty quip back when Dottie appears at the side of the table. 
“You kids want anything to eat?” 
The sound of her voice sends Steve jumping back against his seat, like he’s 15 and getting caught doing something he shouldn’t be. You lean back slowly, amusement clear on your face and a question in your eyes. Do you?
Steve looks from you and up to Dottie who watches with a knowing gleam in her eye. He starts to shake his head but then his eyes fall back to you and he’s repeating the question to you with his eyes. You consider it for a second and then shake your head slightly which Steve repeats to Dottie.
“No, we’re alright, thanks,” he says and Dottie nods. She grabs the coffee pot but doesn’t move. 
“Heard a lot about you…” she trails off and Steve’s eyes widen just a tad. 
“Oh! Steve. Harrington. Steve Harrington,” he fills in the blank for her, even reaching out his hand for her to shake. 
“Dottie. She talks a lot about you, Steve. Sometimes I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it.”
You try to cover your face with your one free hand and groan, “Dottie.”
Steve lets out a small laugh and squeezes your hand, always finding it endearing to see you flustered. You slowly move your hand away, to which Steve gives you a quick wink which only makes you want to hide away again like you’re 16 with a crush. 
Dottie pulls him into an easy conversation. How is Hawkins? Where’d you both meet? And: Do you have a job? I expect only the best for my girl here, you know. And: you’ll have to come back and have something more than just coffee next time. 
By the time she’s finished and gone off to engage with the newest patron in the diner, your coffee’s finished and Steve’s has gone cold. You watch Dottie walk off and when you look back, Steve’s staring at you, soft and kind. His gaze makes you squirm. 
“I like her,” he says. 
“Uh oh, do I have to worry about having competition now?” you joke and Steve shakes his head with a laugh. 
“You don’t have to worry about anyone else, you’re the only one for me,” he confesses, rubbing his thumb against your hand. There’s that feeling like your heart might explode again with a sigh of his name, Steve. Though this time, you’re positive you’ve said it outloud.
“Steve,” you tilt your head, voice soft. He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles and if you don’t kiss him in the next minute, you’re going to have a problem. As if he can sense it, Steve sticks a five on the table and grabs the jacket he’d brought for you as well as Cliff’s leftover newspaper.
He holds his hand out to you to help you out of your side of the booth and you take it, his palm soft against yours. You make it to the door and then pause. 
“Oh! Gotta grab my bag from the back,” you lean up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Meet you at the car?”
Steve nods, squeezing your hip briefly. He watches until you’ve disappeared into the back office before he walks out to his car. You come out not even a minute later, apron off and over your arm and bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a slight skip in your step. 
The air smells like rain, an earthy petrichor that makes things somehow feel lighter. Steve’s leaning against the passenger side, the door already open and waiting for you. When you’re close enough, he hooks a finger through your bag strap to pull it off your shoulder. It gets caught on the crook of your elbow when you reach up to cup his cheeks with your hands. 
He’s confused for the briefest of seconds and then your lips are on his and he forgets about the bag on your shoulder. His hands fall to your hips, one of his arms wrapping tight around your waist. Something inside both of you is cheering, finally. 
You don’t think you’ll ever tire of kissing Steve. Both of you fit perfectly into the empty spots of each other, as if you were carved from the same stone upon creation. It’s a kiss almost far too explicit for outside Dottie’s diner midmorning on a Sunday but you can’t bring yourself to care. That is, until you need to come up for air. 
You pull back, Steve chasing your lips and winning. You’re almost smiling too much now for it to work, your hands sliding from his cheeks to the sides of his neck. This time, he pulls away and your chests rise and fall in sync. 
“Been needing to do that since you first walked inside,” you breathe out and Steve lets out a laugh that you can feel reverberate through you. He kisses you again, quick and soft and his hand moves to take your bag off your shoulder again. 
“And why didn’t you?” he jests, stepping back enough for you to get into his car. One of your hands rests on the top of it, the other hanging loose at your side. Steve wishes he had a camera on him just to capture you in that moment with the sun hitting you in just the right way, playful adoration in your eyes. 
“Because,” you shrug, stooping to get inside the car, holding a hand out for your bag when you’re situated. Steve passes it over and closes your door, jogging around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. 
“Because…?” he pries, sticking the key in the ignition but not yet turning it. You’re pulling your seatbelt across your chest, turning your head to smile at him as you click the buckle into place. 
“Because Dottie might’ve gotten suspicious as to why I was so late this morning,” another pointed look his way and Steve shakes his head, turning the engine over and quickly buckling in his seatbelt. He shifts into reverse, checking his rearview mirror and then slinging his arm across the back of your seat. 
It’s like a feast for your eyes. The stretch of his arm, a long expanse of muscle right by your head that carries a strong whiff of his cologne. The swift, smooth, one handed feel on the wheel. You’re staring unabashed, only getting knocked out of your reverie when he responds. 
“I’m never living this down.”
He glances at you, his arm dropping from your seat to shift into drive. You lean your head against the headrest and shake it with a smile. 
“So what was your excuse then? For being late?” 
He pulls onto the street to take you back towards Hawkins, his right hand leaving the wheel and dropping to find your hand. You take the liberty of slotting your fingers into the spaces between his. 
“Oh you know. Rough night being sick. Oversleeping. Like something out of Steve Harrington’s playbook for getting out of work,” you tease. He scoffs, sparing you a quick amused glance. You lift your hands to your lips in response, your smile hiding behind the kiss you press to his knuckles. 
“And did it work? Did she buy it?” 
“Oh, of course. Why do you think she let me off so early?” 
Steve looks over at you again and sees the slight smirk on your face. He shakes his head with a slight laugh. 
“Wow, you’ve been hanging around me too long. I’m rubbing off on you.”
“Like that’s such a bad thing,” you roll your eyes, turning your head so your cheek rests against the leather of the headrest. A gooey softness melts into your gaze. “You’re one of the best people I know.”
Steve smiles, his cheeks blooming with a slight twinge of pink. He doesn’t say anything, just takes his turn lifting your joined hands to his lips to litter kisses along your knuckles. Your heart goes mushy, such has been the case since you started dating Steve. The mush liquefies, seeping through your body with a shiver when you notice the picture he’s got propped on his dash. 
He’s had to have just added it recently. A grainy film capture of the two of you, you think Max must’ve taken it if you remember correctly but you haven’t seen it before. You’re both leaning against the hood of his car, Steve’s arm around your shoulders and your hand lifted to hold his hand that hangs there. A big toothy grin is spread across your face, your head tilted slightly against Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s not looking at the camera though, he’s looking at you with a lopsided smile, adoration spilling out of him clear as day. 
“When did you add that?” you ask, pointing at the picture with your free hand. Steve glances down at it and immediately breaks into a smile.
“Just the other day. Surprised it’s taken you so long to notice it,” he replies, looking over at you and then back at the road. You’re about to ask if you can somehow get a copy of your own when he says, “I have a copy for you at home, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get it before you go back to your place.”
You smile at him, one that’s soft around the edges, a perfect mirror of how you feel. It feels so wonderful to be known and seen by somebody the way Steve knows and sees you. Making sure to get two prints of that picture of you. Bringing a jacket to work for you for the rain that doesn’t arrive until that afternoon as you’re about to leave his house to go back to yours. 
He uses it as an excuse to keep you with him for another night, something you weakly protest against because the roads aren’t completely slick yet and you can get home just fine. But he insists, his eyes round and pleading and really you can’t deny that you’d rather stay with him anyway. 
Even if it means you’re tired again in the morning and rushing to work. You think being with Steve is a worthy price to pay, you never thought you’d be so glad to be so tired. 
And, at least you’re not late this time.
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sommerbueckers · 9 months ago
Text
My Brother's Best Friend Pt6
___________________________________________________________
Noella chewed silently on a salted pretzel as I disclosed the details of my hookups with a certain blonde. We had been talking for a whopping hour and a half per Noella's request to know every single detail.
"You're telling me, that you lost your girl on girl virginity two years ago and never told me?" Noella finally asked after swallowing a bite of her food.
"That's all you got from this?" I frowned, unimpressed.
"No, no no. I just need a minute to process the fact that you've been secretly hooking up with Paige for almost a month," Noella said.
"Okay in my defense, I thought that weak shit two years ago was gonna be a one-time thing," I argued, resting my elbows on the table.
"But?"
I sighed, "But then she came into my room to say 'goodbye' after Thanksgiving break."
Noella snorted and shook her head, tucking a few strands behind her ear. "You're insane, you know that?"
"Insanely active," I smirked.
Noella ripped a piece of her pretzel off and squished it around with her fingers before eating it. I waited patiently for her to say something, to either continue my dirty joke or change the subject entirely. When she finally did speak, I wished it had been one of the above.
"So what's the deal with you two? Are you talking, dating, like, what's up?" she asked.
I didn't know the answer, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about what it could be on multiple occasions. Whether it was by choice or it was simply because I didn't have the courage to talk to anyone else, I was exclusively hooking up with Paige. But that didn't mean that she was exclusively hooking up with me. College did interesting things to a person. It not only made you, in Paige's case, blonder and hotter, but it also made you wilder.
How could I be sure that Paige wasn't keeping herself busy when she was 1,300 miles away from me? I couldn't, and that's what scared me the most. I was carelessly giving her the key to my heart, not even caring what she did with it. For all I knew she was looking for someone else to pass the responsibility onto and having her own fun along the way.
But then I thought back to earlier, how this hookup felt different from the others. We had started off slower, savoring the taste of each other's lips. She told me she missed me. Was that all just a hoax to get me to let my guard down easier? The way her eyes had traced every detail of my face, admiringly staring at me. No, it couldn't be.
Was I driving myself crazy?
"You still there babe?" Noella waved her freshly manicured hand in front of my face, pulling my attention back toward her.
"Yeah, yeah i'm here," I nodded.
"Okay...Are you gonna answer the question?" The blonde was now leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at me with quizzical eyes.
I shrugged silently and slid my slushy off the table, toying around with the straw before taking a long sip. "I would if I could."
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Game night in the Collymor house was hands down the most anxiously anticipated event of the month. Six players, three teams, and a different selection of games every time. The night consisted of greasy foods and hot takes swirling around in a pool of competitiveness. Everyone wanted to win, but at the end of it all, only one team would walk away smiling.
I adjusted my pajamas in the mirror, a light pink floral set with dark pink flowers scattered throughout it. My hair was freshly washed, hanging down my back in soaked spirals dripping with product. I applied a layer of chapstick to my lips, a popping noise echoing in the room after I'd finished.
Noella was seated on the bed, scrolling idly on her phone as she waited for me to finish. I had never put much into my appearance on game night mainly because of how long the night lasted, but this time was different. Paige was here per usual, but I knew she was looking at me. Suddenly, Noella groaned from behind me, and her eyes shot up to meet mine in the reflection.
"What is it?" I frowned.
"Please respond in this fucking group chat, these bitches won't listen to me," she complained.
"What group chat?"
"The cheer chat," she breathed out, narrowing her eyes.
"What are they saying?" I asked as I moved to grab my phone from my dresser.
"They don't believe me about the practice times changing. Just because i'm not head captain, doesn't mean i'm clueless!" Her eyebrows were knitted together as she spoke, frustration evident in her expression.
Cheer was practically Noella's life, and when the captain title was passed down to me, she was heartbroken. So, I made sure that she had as much power on the leaderboard as I did.
I read over the messages in the group chat, frowning as I learned how they had out right ignored Noella's info text about the practice times. Before I could figure out how to address it, I heard my mom calling everyone from downstairs.
Sighing, I set the phone down on the bed. "We'll deal with it later, c'mon."
I grabbed her hand and we made our way out of the room where we ran into Micah and Paige in the hallway. They were clad in various shades of purple; lilac socks, lavender shirts, amethyst basketball shorts they had gotten from an athletic camp last summer. They held proud smiles on their faces as they emerged from the cave Micah called a room.
Noella snorted, "No way you guys coordinated your outfits."
"So what if we did?" Micah frowned, "It's better than those pieces of string you two call pajamas."
"At least I wear pajamas! Can't imagine waking up with literally nothing covering my chest," she retorted.
The two of them descended the steps, their petty bickering continuing. Before I could follow after them, I felt a familiar hand graze over my butt. My motions came to a halt when Paige leaned over to whisper in my ear, "These things are little."
I bit my lip when she gently squeezed, "Try not to let 'em throw you off your game."
She scoffed and slipped past me, "You and I both know that's not possible."
The comment was meant to be funny, and I tried to find the will within me to laugh as I walked down the steps and into the living room, but I just couldn't. I had probably taken it deeper and more personal than I should've, letting the poisonous meaning I had interpreted it to have infect my mind.
'You and I both know that's not possible.'
Paige completely pulled my attention away from everything else. She was the first person I looked for when I entered a room, regardless of whether I knew she was there or not. When I was in her presence, I was hyperaware of everything I did. Was I breathing too quickly -- too slowly? Was I walking funny? Should I fix my hair? I'd carefully plan my outfits on the days I knew Micah had invited her over, obnoxiously discreetly placing myself wherever they'd be.
In the midst of all of that; all the planning, the watching, the waiting, had Paige even given me a second thought? On the days that she'd come over straight after practice, was she subconscious about the fact that she smelled funky? On the summer days that our family spent at our lake house, was she worried about what I'd think of her in her bathing suit? Could she have even considered me for a moment as I unwittingly surrendered my heart to her?
Who was I kidding? Of course she hadn't, and after thinking over our entire relationship, I didn't know how I hadn't seen it sooner.
Paige was a basketball phenom; McDonald's All American, she had made the cover of SLAM magazine, and she was destined to go to the WNBA.
And I was just her best friend's little sister.
___________________________________________________________
its short, ik, don't be mad. but in my defense when i started this story i didn't think people would actually like it so i didn't have a real storyline in mind. IM TRYING HERE.
there's so much cooking in my brain i can't keep up w everything
probably gonna start another series soon too😫
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sinstear · 1 year ago
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emi baby i have a request if you’re up for it!! but jealous rockstar!abby performing at a late night gig with her band and she notices someone in the audience trying to flirt with you, so during intermission she takes you backstage and marks you up (and more if you’d like) so she can show them who you belong to 🫣
oh oh oh, yes 😼
The lights were dim under her hooded eyes. The sweat trickled down her forehead, sticking to her skin uncomfortably. Her head was lulled back, her heavy breathing echoing through the microphone and into the room while her hair stuck to her face annoyingly. She knew that was something that drove you insane. Seeing her hair all damp, sticking out in different directions and simply looking a little crazy.
Abby could barely hearing anything over the sound of her fingers moving quickly over the cords of her guitar and the screams of everyone in the crowd, but she lifted her head just in time to find you standing in the crowd, swaying and bumping your head to the current tune. One she loved to play for you when it was just you and her, in her trailer, loving on each other. She chuckled breathlessly when you perked up, waving your hand quickly in her direction when your eyes caught her gaze.
There was something she didn’t like though. She didn’t like the closeness of the girl standing beside you. Nor did she like the way she had her hand brushing up your arm, and how close her lips were to your ear. Abby didn’t even know what she was saying, but it had you laughing. Her girl was laughing at something someone else was saying. It had her clenching her jaw tightly, almost messing up the song and strumming the wrong cord with how hard she was gripping the guitar in her hand.
Abby was possessive of you, and she hated how someone was touching you and making you laugh when that should be her causing you to tumble into a fit of giggles, and shivering at a single touch. Always her. Not that girl standing next to you.
Thankfully Abby and her group were able to take an earlier break seeing as they had started earlier than usual tonight. She only had one thing in mind when she stepped off the stage, get you away from that girl as fast as possible without causing a big scene. Sometimes it was difficult because of how big they had become over the past few months of making and releasing music. Finding you and only you was the only thing she wanted. She was quick to ignore every person that screamed, yelled in her face, grabbed her arms, and even went as far as to almost jump on her, as she made her way towards the barrier keeping them, you, and everyone apart. Her jaw clenched again, your smile brightening when you finally spotted her walking towards you.
“Abs! you were so good, even though you are always good. Oh— before i forget, i want you to meet my new friend—”
No time. She didn’t have time to listen to you gush over the new brunette you had just met. She didn’t have time to listen you drabble on about how cute her shoes were, or how you liked her makeup. Instead, she grabbed your hand in her bigger yet clammier ones, cutting you off completely before dragging you, almost causing you to stumble over your own feet at how fast she was walking. “Abby? are you mad at me? have i done something wrong?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows with a pout on your lips even though she couldn’t see you.
Pulling you into her dressing room, you have to hold your hands out onto the couch before you to stop you falling over onto the floor like an idiot. The broad-shouldered stood standing in front of the door, looking at you, chest rising up and down with how heavy she was breathing. Her eyes were almost black the longer she stared at you, sweat still trickling down her temples. “Did you have fun?”
“At your show? i always do. what is this about—”
“Did you have fun when she was touching you?”
Each step you took back, she took one forward and it wasn’t long until she had you backed up against the dressing table, arms either side of your body, and her nose brushing against yours. “Abs, i don’t understand—”
Your words died in your throat the second she pressed her lips to your neck, not kissing, just resting there as you breathed heavily against her. Your fingers curled against the counter, nails bluntly scraping the wood harshly. “Dumb little brain huh, Sweet girl?” She whispers, her voice cracked from screaming and shouting so much tonight. “Thought you would understand by now that that you are mine, and i don’t share what’s mine”
Abby groaned into your neck at the little whimpers you let out as her lips trailed soft yet harsh kisses into your skin. You could barely focus on her words anymore, not when she was kissing you like this, not with how her hands trailed up your exposed legs, digging her nails into your skin the higher she went. It wasn’t until her lips had found that little spot that had you gasping and breathing heavy that Abby bit down a little harsher on your neck, sucking a brand new hickey into your pretty skin, enjoying how you whimpered and wrapped around arms around her body. “Mine yeah?” She almost growled.
“yours! m’yours Abs”
“This is mine too, yeah?”
You hand been so focused on how her lips felt against you that you didn’t even register her hand slipping into your now very soaked panties, fingers sliding between your folds, smirking into your neck as your hips bucked up into her touch. Nodding quickly, you bit down on your lip as she continued to rub circles on your clit.
Her forehead bumped into yours, blue eyes staring into yours, her jaw still clenched tightly, and if you weren’t so fucking turned on, you’d be worried she would break it. “Fuckin’ say it. Say it’s mine”
“It’s yours. i’m yours. Abby please—”
The second the words fell from your lips, she removed her hand from between your thighs and grinned darkly. “Think i have to remind you, hm?” She chuckled, pressing her thumb into the new forming hickey, biting down on her own lip when the action tears a whine from you. “can’t have her or anyone else out there thinking you are theirs for the taking, can i? you are mine, and only mine”
“You only have 15 minutes—”
Gripping your jaw between her fingers before you could finish your sentence, Abby hums softly, pressing the pads against your lips, prying your mouth open where you eagerly took them in, groaning as you look up at her with such an innocent look as you sucked slowly.
“If you think this is the only time i’m going to remind you of who you belong to tonight, then you really are dumb baby. When we get home, i’m going to fuck you until my name is the only one you will remember”
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kqiscr · 1 year ago
Text
TATTOOIST!CHOSO
sfw + nsfw content ahead / fem reader (use of girl + woman)
not proofread
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tattooist!choso who's caught your eye ever since you walked into the shop, a towering man with ink sprawled across his body, insanely detailed drawings wrapping around his arms. his eyebrow piercing glints in the light as he studies you up and down.
tattooist!choso who has his eyeliner smudged both on purpose but also from accidentally rubbing his eyes too much, making his already tired eyes more striking as you noticed him watching you like a hawk.
tattooist!choso who's lips twitch upward when you look everywhere but him when he's putting the stencil on your exposed thigh.
tattooist!choso who's eyes narrow in focus whenever putting the needle onto your skin but will answer all your questions with ease.
tattooist!choso who finds the way you shiver cute whenever he slides a gloved hand a bit too far up, by accident of course.
tattooist!choso who coos at you whenever you yelp in pain once he makes near your knee. "just a bit more, you can do it for me, right?"
tattooist!choso who notices the way you avert your gaze away from him whenever he would try to make eye contact.
tattooist!choso asking what a pretty girl like you would be in a tattoo shop, with no tattoos to be seen on your body and such an innocent face.
tattooist!choso who's eyes widen a bit when you pull up the hem of your shirt to reveal a large tattoo on your back, also unintentionally showing a piece of a tattoo that peeked out your shorts.
tattooist!choso who doesn't want to finish the tattoo, finding your personality endearing, even after nearly six hours of rambling to him.
tattooist!choso who slips you a piece of a paper while you were paying. "you should come again, sweetheart," he whispers into your ear.
tattooist!choso who grins when he sees you open the note outside and then giddily rushing to your car.
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tattoist!choso who brings you to an unused back room, pinning you against the wall without pulling his lips away from yours as if he was too scared to take a breath.
tattoist!choso who doesn't care if anyone hears your whimpers or his desperation as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting at whatever he could, leaving behind purple love bites for you to remember him by when you went back home.
tattoist!choso who ignores your whines for him to lock the door, opting to not let anything get in his way. besides, all of his coworkers were busy, and he highly doubted they would have the nerve to bring this up if any of them did happen to walk in.
tattoist!choso who unzips his pants, leaving them to pool at the floor, giving you a questioning look. "d'you want this?"
tattoist!choso who doesn't even hesitate when you nod hurriedly.
tattoist!choso who pulls your skirt up, immediately moving your panties to the side as he lifted you up and let you wrap your legs around his waist.
tattoist!choso who wants to be gentle at first, slowly bullying his tip in as you throw a hand over your mouth. "'s gonna be too big!"
tattoist!choso who simply gives you another heated kiss, attempting to distract you from the pleasurable pain of him stretching you out.
tattoist!choso who nearly throws his head back in ecstasy as soon as he finally bottomed out, burying his head into your chest to prevent any of his whimpers from escaping his mouth, both in embarrassment and also because he definitely did not want yuuji walking in and seeing the two of you in this predicament. he still wanted you to be loud though.
tattoist!choso who loves the sound of your muffled moans, who loves your gummy walls that make him go crazy, who loves the way you claw at his back, scrunching his shirt up until you trail a hand to his hair and pull at one of his ponytails.
tattoist!choso who forgets about being gentle, deciding to slam your hips down with no mercy, clear liquid running down your trembling thighs and dripping onto the floor as it seemed like choso couldn't get any faster.
tattoist!choso who loves to hear your pleas for him to slow down, even when you were meeting his hips in the middle and would begin to tear up whenever he would actually begin to slow down.
tattoist!choso who wouldn't bother being quiet as he felt the knot in his stomach, coaxing you into cumming with him. "c'mon baby, you're close right?" his hips stuttered. "make a mess for me."
tattoist!choso who would let you slump against him for a few minutes, panting, before he would let you sit on a table as he cleaned the two of you up.
tattoist!choso who sheepishly rubs his neck while nanami scolds him, exchanging glances with you as if you were two kids being chastised for talking too much in class.
tattoist!choso who would immediately clock out and bring you to his apartment so he could finally take his time with you - for as long as he wanted.
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nsfw part is rlly rushed so i might make a full fic lol!
reblogs appreciated
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ohsunnyboy · 2 years ago
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steal your night (part 1) | sung hanbin ˚₊‧⁺˖
you never knew you had a boyfriend until sung hanbin eats your tiramisu and steals your heart under the stars of monaco
SERIES: a night in monaco — one, two
TAGS: fake dating, strangers to lovers, business man!hanbin, gn!reader, flirty hanbin and you ehe, meet cute <3, summer vibes
A/N: sorry for the disappearance lmao take my hanbin pining as an apology, and as always, purely self indulgent
WORDS: ~1300
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Trouble comes when dessert is served.
Everything considered, it’s horrible timing. Sun setting just so over the Mediterranean, hearty chatter firing all around in all sorts of languages and your wine being warm company on a supposedly lonely night. It makes a perfect set-up as your spoon hovers mid-air as you prepare to dig into some well-deserved tiramisu.
Until someone slides into the very empty seat across from you, slips a crisp black business card across the table to you – it reads 'Sung Hanbin' – and uttering the most insane thing yet: "Love, I'm so sorry for being late!"
What.
You barely get to say anything before he's swooping in for la bise. As you lean in, his expensive cologne lingers like smoke in the air. It's a narrow dodge of your lips, but he swerves and lands a quick kiss to your right cheek and then dares to go for a second on your left. Consider yourself stunned because all you do is watch him pull away and a grin at you with a gorgeous smile.
You want to sit and gape for a second, let yourself breathe, and now with a longer look, let him breathe.
This, Hanbin, has flushed cheeks and is twitchy with how he holds your hand – when did that happen?! – across the table. There's a light sheen of sweat on his skin and not due to the heat, more like he's either embarrassed or nervous about this. He breathes in short, sharp gasps as if he's been running and mouths something to you.
Please play along. His hand still holds yours, and he squeezes just so.
Hanbin turned his head to the right slightly. Stood at a table near the entrance was a woman with a flowy silver dress on and hair pulled into quite a severe bun. Her pointed heels tapping on the spot and her jittery eyes glance over at you two, but quickly look somewhere else when she catches your curious gaze.
“She’s been trying to get me to buy her a meal all day,” he sighs. “Thing is, I even saw her scoping me out yesterday at a bar last night. I was naïve enough to buy her a drink to start some conversation, but she’s taken it as personal permission to stalk me. She clearly hasn’t gotten the memo.” And he squeezes your hand again, this time to comfort himself.
“What about me? What if I turn out to be some crazy that’s out to steal your Amex and claim my fifth husband?”
“You? No way, you have a top shelf wine and a second plate of tiramisu in front of you already. You're doing perfectly fine without my money," Hanbin lists before his gaze turns considering. "Unless... you weren't lying about the husbands.”
You laugh into your wine and eye Hanbin over the rim. "You wouldn’t look too bad in a wedding tux, pretty boy, who knows?”
The long column of Hanbin’s neck is exposed thanks to the open collar of his shirt. Revealing the delicate sun, moon and star on his collar that only keeps you stuck in wonder for longer.
You can only imagine how smooth the skin feels – under your hands and lips – but maybe that’s the wine talking when he sits there fine and handsome against the candlelight. The sunset paints saturated hues against his skin, you can barely see the blush that peeks above his collar thanks to it.
If you friends were here, you know what they’d say about him: trouble, hot and wealthy trouble.
“Eyes up here, love.” Your eyes leap back up to Hanbin’s to only see amusement in them. Getting caught flushes your face with heat but his eyes are dark enough to forget yourself in.
You try to push on, clearing your throat and pulling yourself together. “So, the deal is we act like lovers the rest of the night?” The weight of the word lovers is a syrupy one, overtly sweet and something far from familiar for you but Hanbin only smiles at it.
“Of course, love. Shouldn’t be too hard with someone as sweet as you,” he grins however his eyes still linger on that woman in silver, clearly on edge.
You drum your fingers on the table, the rush of meeting each other melting quickly in the air. Awkward tension is bound to seep in soon and you'll be damned if it does! you're not losing this chance no matter how much trouble this man could be.
A stroke of brilliance brings you to push forward your untouched plate of tiramisu over to him, careful with the spoon balancing precariously on the plate. “What?” you smile at his confused face. “I wasn’t eating it anyway and you need a distraction.” But he just raises his brows like he doesn't believe it.
At his reluctance, you sigh and begin to flag down a waitress.
“Hey! Hey, don’t kick me out please—I’ll eat it!… even pay for it!—” Hanbin flusters even further as you push a finger against his soft lips to shut him up as the waitress arrives.
It’s a beat of silence.
“Two more tiramisus, please.” Hanbin’s laugh of disbelief trails the waitress as she leaves.
What you do find out is that it’s stupidly easy to talk to Hanbin. You tell him why you’re even here in Monaco: about your crazy best friends marrying after years of adventures, about being the responsible one in a group of misfits, about growing up and never quite finding the one unlike how they did. Loneliness is a familiar tale on your tongue, the wine tinging everything you say with bitter honesty you’ve never been able to let out with anyone else.
With Hanbin, you learn about his job as a business consultant: his annoying – but endearing! – juniors Yujin and Gyuvin, how him and Zhang Hao – his other colleague – are out here for strictly business. Until of course, he met you.
“What are your doing out here so alone, anyway?” he probed. He’s so much closer now, having moved his chair to be next to you instead of opposite you. “You’re too pretty to be single but I really hope you are.”
You shrug off the flirting for once and let yourself disappear back into the chair. “Everyone else I know are in relationships so they’re all away on dates across the city. I figured stealing myself away on a self-date would be better than sitting lonely in a hotel room all night.” 
He hums, a low and melodic thing. You can feel the heat of him next to you, the weight of his presence and the cut of his cologne all over again. Though nothing prepares you when Hanbin takes your hand in his.
He raises it, gentle and kind, slow and despairing, and presses his lips to your ring finger.
"Well then, may I steal your night?" he asks like a dare. A whisper barely heard but shared between you two.
Eyes far too low and gaze far too heavy for a look between strangers. The implications are clearer than the night sky above. Hanbin's lips linger with a smirk, and you can feel everything in you screaming to look away before you melt into the floor but all you can do is stare.
Trouble. Is what your mind is screaming. It's what you really want after all this pining in silence. Someone to crash into your life and take you with them.
"You don't even know my name."
It comes out like an accusation. Trouble, trouble, trouble. It brings you here and leaves you dizzy, craving for more.
"Why would I need it, love. You'll be saying mine all night.”
The woman is long gone into the night so there's no need for this play-pretend. But trouble looks you in the eyes and you kiss him with a heart that yearns for more.
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ahjbsdkh thanks so much for reading <33 i had a lot of fun writing this so a like and reblog would be nice if you enjoyed :] ⭒ masterlist
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