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sumeetcookware · 5 months ago
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Shop Stainless Steel Lunch Box at Sumeet Cookware - High Quality
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Our stainless steel lunch boxes, designed for durability and leak-proof performance. Perfect for kids and adults alike, they keep meals fresh and secure. Made from eco-friendly, BPA-free materials, our lunch boxes are ideal for work, school, or travel. Enjoy stylish, easy-to-clean options for healthy eating on the go. https://sumeetcookware.in
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tasteofpunjab · 1 year ago
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Discover the Finest Lunch Boxes for Every Palate
Explore our selection of the best lunch boxes, perfect for work, or on-the-go meals. Keep your food fresh and your day nourished with our top picks
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tender-rosiey · 11 months ago
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how would modern day sukuna be like a father? :o
nerves — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: no curses au, lovelies! thank you for being so patient MWUAH and of course, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it!
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when one thinks of sukuna, one thinks of a broad muscular man covered in tattoos with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue punching the hell out of anyone.
you never think of the same man carrying a pink glittery bag and his own little pretty princess.
“do you have your lunch box?”
“yup!”
he quirks an eyebrow, “you sure?”
your daughter nods excitedly before looking over her dad’s shoulder. she grins when she finally sees you and excitedly calls you over, “mama! ‘morning!”
a smile instantly appears you on your face as you make your way towards your little sweetheart, “good morning, baby!”
you take her into your arms—ignoring your husband—and you kiss her cheek, “you excited for your first day of school?”
“mhm!” she gasped suddenly, “mama, look at my hair! papa made it for me!” she giggles, proudly showing off her ponytail.
you look with a knowing look and a small smile at your husband.
sukuna frowns and looks away, “it was easy anyway,” he then glares at you, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”
you giggle and pad your way towards him, resting your arm on his shoulder and gently kissing his lips, “it’s a really cute deal, though.”
you lightly bounce your daughter in your other arm, “right, d/n?”
“yeah! papa is the best!” she cheers, hugging him tightly.
your husband groans, but—nonetheless—his arms are wrapped around you two, “you two are such drama queens.”
he leans slightly, mouth near your ear as he whispers, “you better give me a proper fucking kiss when we drop the brat off.”
you gasp lightly and smack his shoulder, “watch your language!” you watch him scrunch his face—most likely about to sass you—so you press a quick kiss to your daughter’s cheek then your husband’s.
you then push them through the door with a nervous smile, “okay, bye! have a great time and don’t forget that mama loves you!”
“I love you too, mama!”
of course, you would’ve loved to accompany your daughter to school, especially on her first day, but the darn office just happened to call for you right now.
sukuna knows that, and so does your cute daughter, so there is a reason why they were both so reluctant to leave.
anyway, back to the present.
your husband’s frown is still evident as he is robbed yet again from a ‘proper’ kiss. he picks your daughter up easily and then throws her in the car.
she, as always, finds it funny and starts laughing her little butt off. sukuna rolls his eyes, and gets into the car himself.
he puts on the playlist that your daughter made herself, and finally starts the car. the ride is quiet, if you don’t count the singing and screaming of your daughter.
of course, sukuna can’t do anything about it—even if he knows that he doesn’t want her to stop in the first place.
the school isn’t that far away anyway, so they reach it in no time. your husband skilfully parks in front of the gate and takes his seatbelt off.
he doesn’t hear hurried unbuckling of a belt or nonstop squealing and fidgeting, so he looks at his daughter, “what’s up?”
she fidgets with the hem of her shirt then speaks up, softly, “I am—scared.”
he furrows his eyebrow, turning his entire body towards her, “huh? why? you were so excited with your mom earlier and you were screaming my ear off about it yesterday.”
“I know,” she murmurs then frowns, “…but what if people don’t like me?”
sukuna is stunned for a moment. he isn’t the one to normally deal with your daughter whenever she needed deep or meaningful emotional advice.
that was what you did, especially since you are able to read your daughter pretty well.
but he tries his best cause he would be damned if he isn’t the best father. his hand is placed on her head, albeit a bit roughly.
she whines, “papa, my hair!”
he takes a moment, “I…” he starts then quietens down for a second, and even then, you’re daughter is looking intently at him.
he then looks at her again, “they will love you. you’re a good kid."
your daughter’s eyes widen at her dad’s unfiltered compliment. she beams, quickly unbuckling her belt and throwing herself into his arms.
her smile is so wide it almost hurts her, but her heart feels so full because of her dad’s praise that she couldn’t care about anything other than him.
he slowly starts patting her head, “and if someone bothers you, I will just beat them up.”
“mama said no violence!” your daughter scolds and almost on cue, your face appears on the screen: you’re calling!
looks like you managed to squeeze in some time to check up on her. your daughter swiftly presses on answer and chirps, “hi mama!”
“hi baby! why are you not in school yet?” you question, eyes darting towards your husband, questioning.
“papa wanted to get some food first, so we just arrived!”
sukuna is—internally—flabbergasted. this liar. he is about to interject, but then he ponders about it for a moment: maybe she doesn’t want you to see her hesitant about the whole school thing.
maybe she wants to appear strong—with no weak points—in front of her mother. then he breathes out a chuckle, at least she takes after him in something.
“sukuna! she could’ve been late!” you huff then sigh, “good thing that you guys moved early anyway.”
your eyes then focus on your daughter, “how’re you feeling?”
“excited!”
“any nerves or anything?” you ask knowingly, but she shakes her head.
she hugs sukuna tighter, “I was a little nervous, but papa made me feel better!”
you grin, “did he now?”
he notices the teasing glint behind your eyes and looks away to avoid your gaze. your daughter giggles at her dad’s behaviour, and so do you.
and your husband has never felt more teamed up on than now. she hears the bell rings, “oh! I gotta go now!”
“bye papa!” she kisses her dad’s cheek, “bye mama!” then kisses the phone’s screen. you blow her a kiss back, and she dashes out of the car, ready to start her day.
even while walking towards the building, she turns again to her dad and waves at him happily.
sukuna nods and she grins, switching her focus back on the school. his focus is on her intently, until you speak up, “I am proud of you.”
his gaze snaps to you, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead you’re smiling warmly at him. his heart contracts in a way that makes him feel weird, and he can’t find it in him to give you a snarky reply.
he groans, “she is my daughter as much as she is yours, y’know.”
you hum, “of course, she is,” he hears rustling on the other line, so he assumes you’re checking some papers before turning to him again, “she takes after you in more ways than one.”
“yeah, I noticed,” he says quietly, and you laugh.
he notices from the corner of his eyes his daughter laughing excitedly with a bunch of others girls, and he lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.
you tap on your desk a little, “you nervous?”
“if someone hurts her, I will kill them.”
“I figured."
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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alloinnoware12 · 2 years ago
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Alloinnoware is the Best Online Lunchbox for Office with Bag
Alloinnoware is your go-to online store for the best lunchboxes with bags for the office. Shop now and upgrade your tiffin box!
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andypantsx3 · 8 months ago
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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4
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Then
It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.
You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.
After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.
He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.
That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.
You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.
You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.
You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?
“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”
“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”
The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.
She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.
“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.
As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.
“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.
Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.
He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.
“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.
Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”
Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.
“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.
“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.
“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.
Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.
“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.
You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.
“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.
His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.
“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.
You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.
Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.
By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”
“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.
“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.
Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.
“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.
That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.
Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.
A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”
A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.
You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”
Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.
And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.
You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.
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Now
Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.
Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.
Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.
You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.
“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.
“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.
“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”
That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.
“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.
Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.
“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.
The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.
“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”
“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.
“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”
Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.
“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.
But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.
The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.
You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.
Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.
Purportedly.
“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”
You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”
“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.
You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.
And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.
The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.
“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”
Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.
On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”
You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”
Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”
You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.
“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”
Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.
“Wow, good for him,” you said.
“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”
And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.
Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.
And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.
Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.
Yeah. He was most probably an omega.
“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.
Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.
“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.
You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.
When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.
The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.
Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.
The house said otherwise.
Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.
“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.
Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.
You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.
You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.
Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.
“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.
“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.
“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.
“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.
“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.
“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.
It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?
You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.
That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?
Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.
You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.
No. No fucking way.
Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.
An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.
Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”
He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”
You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.
“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.
“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”
Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.
“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.
“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.
“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.
Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”
You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.
“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”
Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.
“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”
“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”
“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.
You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.
You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”
Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”
You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”
“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.
Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.
“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”
Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”
“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”
“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.
Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.
You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”
“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.
“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.
You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.
“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.
You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.
“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.
Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.
Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.
You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”
Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”
A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.
“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.
But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.
The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.
And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.
You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.
After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.
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fairyhaos · 8 months ago
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❖ no such thing as too perfect // jeon wonwoo
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wonwoo x gn!reader, 2k+ words
tags: office au, established relationship, fluff, kinda crack, junhui is the best work bestieTM ever, yn is Dramatic and In Love
warnings: none
notes: this was only meant to be like, 1.2k.... idk what happened but im not apologising. also there are a couple of pov switches which i hope make sense!!
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“I think I need to break up with him,” you say, and Junhui blinks around a mouthful of salad. 
“Who?” he asks, spraying pieces of feta cheese all over the table, and you wrinkle your nose and brush away a few bits that get too close to you and your bento box. He frowns, and then his eyes widen. “Oh my god, you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo? Why do you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo?”
You wince as Junhui's loud exclamation rings throughout the office canteen, making several heads turn to look at the two of you. 
“Don't yell it so loud—and why are you saying his name in italics?”
“Because this is Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhui emphasises again, shoving salad passionately into his mouth before carrying on talking. “He's the only one of your boyfriends that I've actually ever approved of. Which is crazy, because Soonyoung introduced him to you, and I've never pinned Soonyoung as a guy that knows boyfriend-material guys.”
You reach over and lower Junhui’s fork, preventing him from eating and talking at the same time. “I don't know,” you sigh. “I just… I don't think this is going to work.”
“What did he do?” Junhui asks. His face morphs into a more serious look. “Do I need to murder him for you?”
“No, I— no! Don't murder him!” you say quickly, shaking your head. “He hasn't done anything wrong. It's just. I think I need to break up with him.”
The grave look melts from Junhui's face, and then he frowns. “You need to break up with him… even though he hasn't done anything wrong?”
“Yes.”
Junhui stares at you, mystified, then snatches back his fork to keep eating his salad. “Okay, so you've gone insane. Nice to know.”
You sigh at Junhui's response, rubbing your temples. 
Whilst it does sound insane for you to break up with Wonwoo even though he's done nothing wrong, in your eyes, it's actually quite understandable. 
Nothing has gone wrong, per se: you've been dating Wonwoo for about ten months now, and everything has been perfect. He's been perfect. 
Maybe… a little too perfect. 
He's always being so gentle and courteous, silently reading your emotions and knowing exactly how you're feeling at any given moment. He knows what you need before you even know that you need it—giving you little cheek kisses to remind you that you're loved, pushing a chocolate bar into your hand when you're all dizzy and tired, hugging you to sleep when you've had a bad day. 
The bento box that you're opening and having for lunch? That was prepared by him too. 
Jeon Wonwoo is just so goddamn perfect, and it worries you. 
“I don't think I'm good enough for him,” you admit whilst Junhui is busily sipping his water. 
It's fascinating how he manages to eat so frantically whilst eating so slowly at the same time, you think idly, as Junhui chokes on the tiny sip he was taking. He sets down the glass, wiping his mouth and blinking at you. 
“Sorry, what?”
“Come on, Junhui, do I really have to say it again?” you complain, beginning to open your bento box. “You heard me.”
“Yeah, and I couldn't believe my ears,” he says, tilting his head sideways. “You? Not good enough for him? Please. That's crazy.”
You make a questioning noise. “You just said that he's the only boyfriend of mine that you approved of.”
“Exactly.” Junhui stabbed his fork in your direction, before going back to shovelling leaves into his mouth. “You're perfect for him, and he's perfect for you. I predicted it from the moment you met.”
“I don't know about me being perfect for him, but he really is just too perfect for me,” you whine. “Him and his stupidly warm eyes and that smile… oh, Junhui, he makes me feel like the most beautiful person in this entire universe.” You look down at your bento box, pouting. “Wonwoo's just so perfect.”
Junhui makes a face. “Gross, but okay. I still don't see your point, though. Wonwoo's perfect, and you're both good enough for each other. I don't see why you think you need to break up with him.”
Still looking down at the bento box, you let out a sigh. All of the food is neatly packed away into the separate compartments, and he's even arranged the sesame seeds on your rice into a little heart. It's an awfully goofy but also an awfully Wonwoo thing to do, and you can feel your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, the longer you stare at it. 
This is not good. You are far too in love with Wonwoo. 
That's what you tell Junhui, and he stares at you with utter disbelief as if you've finally admitted that you really have lost your mind. 
“And what makes you think that he's not far too in love with you?” Junhui asks. “You know, one of the reasons that I approve of Wonwoo is because he's just so so in love with you. Like, almost disgustingly in love with you.”
“What?” You blink at him, before shaking your head. “Junhui, no, this is serious. Wonwoo's just so perfect and I'm so in love with him and—and it's actually getting dangerous now. I've literally fallen in love with him.”
Junhui stares at you for a long moment, wondering whether you're actually being serious about all of this. 
“That's not a bad thing,” he insists, and then chomps on his salad in frustration. “Y/N, that's not a bad thing at all.”
“Yes it is,” you say, despairingly, looking forlorn as you prop your chin on your hand. “I love him too much. It's gonna—it's gonna get too overwhelming, soon, and then he'll start thinking I'm weird, and he'll distance himself from me, and then we'll break up and I should end this before that happens.”
Junhui shakes his head. “I don't think that's true.”
“Yes it is.”
“No it isn't. He won't break up with you.”
“Not yet.”
Junhui looks away exasperatedly, because you're adamant in wallowing in your despair over having to break up with Wonwoo because “he's too perfect” even while quite happily eating the lunch that Junhui knows Wonwoo probably prepared for you. 
It's insane, he thinks, because it's obvious to him that Wonwoo loves you a lot. But he knows you and your negative thinking, and short of Wonwoo walking in here and professing his love to you all by himself, Junhui can't think of anything that could possibly convince you otherwise. 
As he looks past your shoulder to the glass doors of the office canteen, however, he blinks. 
There's a tall man entering the canteen, his dark hair all fluffy and his glasses-rimmed eyes scanning the area, lips pursed into a look that could almost be described as bored. He has his hands in his coat pockets, wearing the most simple casual fit ever, but he exudes such cold model energy that even Junhui blinks again. 
And then he watches as the man catches sight of you and Junhui, and his entire demeanour just softens. 
Junhui bites back a grin. 
Wow. Maybe he’s, like, actually psychic. 
“Wonwoo's here,” he says abruptly, and your head snaps up so fast that he can hear the audible click that sounds in your neck. 
“Where?” 
Junhui doesn't get to say anything, however, because he sees the moment that your eyes clock the tall man that's striding into the canteen, the light catching the frames of his glasses, and watches as you positively melt, in much the same way that the man had done when he saw you. 
He can almost hear every infatuated thought that runs through your mind. 
“Wonwoo,” you breathe, once Wonwoo steps close enough to the table that you and Junhui are eating at. His hair is all fluffy and windswept, and you resist the urge to smooth it down with your fingers. 
“Hello.” Wonwoo bends down, presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You weren't answering your phone.”
“Hm? I didn't get any text notifs from you.” You check your phone, trying to turn it on, only for the screen to remain black. “Oh. Is it dead?”
“I suspected as much,” Wonwoo says dryly, but there's a fondness in his voice as he pulls out a power bank from his pocket. “Here.”
Your eyes light up. “Oh, you're a life saver!” You look up at Wonwoo, smiling at the way his eyes look so warm as he gazes down at you. “Thank you.”
Junhui slurps his water loudly. 
“Sorry,” he says, sounding not sorry at all when the two of you look over at him. “Don't mind me.”
He's grinning mischievously, for reasons that you cannot fathom, and when he leans forward to peer up at Wonwoo with curious eyes, the mischief in his grin only increases. 
“So, Wonwoo, why are you here?”
Wonwoo tilts his head, pushing his glasses up at the same time. “You're Junhui.”
“The one and only,” Junhui says brightly. “I'm Y/N's work bestie. I've heard loads about you.”
You hiss in annoyance, kicking Junhui under the table even as Wonwoo laughs amusedly, placing a hand on your shoulder affectionately. 
“Wen Junhui! Why would you say that?”
“Do you talk about me that often?” Wonwoo asks, and his tone is somewhere between genuinely curious and adoring and you kind of just wanna sit there and listen to his voice forever. 
“Oh, all the time,” Junhui says, eyes gleaming, and you snap your gaze back to him, exasperated. “Y/N loves you so much. I hear about the extent of it every day.”
Wonwoo looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”
You kind of want to deny it, but then that would mean lying to Wonwoo, so you don't. 
“Maybe?” you say weakly, cheeks burning as you smile sheepishly up at him. “You're just, uh. Really really lovely. And, um, I kind of love you. A lot.”
Wonwoo laughs, a full and endeared laugh, twinkling with the light of a thousand suns. “I'm glad. Because you're really lovely, and I love you a lot too.”
Your eyes widen, and suddenly it's like it's just you and Wonwoo in the canteen now, him with his hand on your shoulder and those eyes, holding your very soul in place as he just smiles so lovingly and oh God you really do love him. 
“Oh,” you say, soft. “Wonwoo…”
Wonwoo just smiles again. “Anyways, I came by to let you know that I'll be finishing work a bit earlier today, so call me when you're done and I'll drive by to pick you up, okay?”
You nod, mute, stunned by the gentlest words of “I love you” that had left Wonwoo's mouth just seconds before. 
“It was nice meeting you,” Junhui chirps, but Wonwoo doesn't seem to hear, because he's looking down at you again, before swooping in and placing the lightest kiss on your nose and you feel like you could combust on the spot right there. 
“I'll see you later?” he says. 
You nod. “I'll see you later.”
Wonwoo smiles, and then the hand slides off your shoulder and he walks away. 
You watch him go, watch him walk through the tables and then get to the glass doors, where he turns around one last time to wave goodbye before disappearing outside, and really, it's insane how much you love him. 
And how much he loves you, it seems. 
“So. He took time out of his own lunch break and came all the way here to give you a charger because he knew that you'd forgotten one and to tell you that he's picking you up later?” Junhui says, making you reluctantly turn back to him. “Y/N. If this doesn’t make you see just how in love with you Wonwoo is, then I’m gonna kick you.”
“Hey, no need for violence,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and Junhui pulls a face. 
“So do you see it or do you not?”
You look over your shoulder again, out at the doors. Wonwoo’s no longer there, but you can still imagine the imprint of his warmth, lingering like the softest lavender scent over the entire area. 
“Maybe I do,” you say, all wistful and dazed, a smile on your face. “Isn’t he just so perfect?”
Junhui grins, and makes use of your distracted state to steal a carrot stick from your lunch, crunching on it loudly.
“Perfect and in love with you,” he points out. “So do you still feel like you need to break up with him?”
“Hm?”
You blink, eyes still all starry from your few minutes of interacting with your boyfriend, his soft smile etched into your mind. It takes a moment for Junhui's words to register, but then they do, and you can't help but laugh. 
“Oh. Oh, no. He and I are perfect.”
Junhui grins. He really is a psychic. 
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fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect
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satoruhour · 1 year ago
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a/n: something possessed me and i just started writing ... / 1.2k
warnings: age gap (reader in 20s and in uni, nanami in his late 30s), oral / cunnilingus, doggy, daddy kink, implied overstim, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, like brief fingering?, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut
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thinking about dad’s best friend!nanami who helps you to move into your university dormitory, arms flexing against his tight dark blue shirt as you try not to stare. it’s unbecoming, eyes trailing over the sweat dripping down his forehead, the sharp lines of his jawline and furrowed brows, espeically since he met your dad long ago when he first joined the company, seeing you from time to time in your father’s office in high school. but nanami never thought he’d see you to grow up to be the woman you are today, moving into your very own room with a bright smile — ready to take on your major and the world.
“everything in?” your dad asks with tears in his eyes and you simply push his shoulder, telling him how i’ll be fine, dad! before hugging him in between boxes and plastic bags. just behind him, nanami shoots you a gentle smile too, recalling on the times when he’s seen you help out at the office in your gap year, where you slip in little sandwiches on your lunch breaks. he thinks it’s you wanting to revisit old times where your father would buy danish pastry just for you to give it to the blonde man, but you’re hoping to melt his stoicism even further to the point of wanting things to happen — things you didn’t even want to admit out loud — with how fine nanami has aged over the years.
but one visit turned into two. the second one with your dad where rather, they talked while you worked on an assignment, but you enjoyed both of their presence. two turned into three — the third where nanami has already memorised how many steps it would take to reach your room. three turned into five, and five turned into nine where his hand would wander past your bedsheets and onto your figure, where casual talk about his work turned into conversations about you and what you liked. but nanami was always afraid of crossing over.
it was the tenth visit where dad’s best friend!nanami shows up sweaty and panting like he needs to tell you something, but when your eyes drift down to the hand he tries to hide the gears click in your head. it was only fifteen minutes ago that nanami has himself cooped up in the admin toilet downstairs, fist pumping his cock impatiently while he imagines your tits in front of his face, bouncing. where your hips do the same, whining out into his neck as your pussy clenches and gushes around him. it’s because he was interrupted by a knock that the first thing he did was to come here, but he wasn’t thinking straight. that all fades away when your hand cups his bulge, squeezing slightly that nanami wants to unbuckle his pants, but you drag him into your room before he can do it.
dad’s best friend!nanami who has your panties stuffed into your mouth as he eats you out on the dormitory bed, slurping every last bit of your juices up while his mouth works wonders on your dripping cunt. “nanami-san! p-please—” it’s a struggle to talk through fabric but you manage to get the words out, hips starting to hump into his mouth, feeling nothing like this before in your life as he nibs and sucks on your clit. nanami hums into your pussy and his arms tighten around your thighs, “please what? words, baby, use your words.” you shiver at the timbre of his voice, alongside the smoothness in which he removes your underwear. “but not too loud, or else everyone in school will know what a dirty slut you are for your father’s best friend.”
dad’s best friend!nanami who has your face shoved into your my melody bedsheets as he pounds into you from behind, shirt held up by his teeth so he can the way you take just all of his fat cock. by now, he’s drawn out multiple orgasms after holding back on you for so long — it was a sight, a babbling, pathetic mess on the bed while your cum drips from your core right down to the sheets. it’s beyond easy to slip into your hole, and nanami has to squeeze your waist so hard to try not to cum that you’re telling him to loosen his grip and he apologises with kisses down your back. he’s only kissed you once so far so you moan into the second kiss that night, hips moving back onto his pelvis before he slams his length right into you.
dad’s best friend!nanami’s demeanour changes altogether after that sweet, sensual kiss, pushing down on your arch before setting a pace, dick twitching from how tight and warm you felt around him. “can’t believe you kept this pussy from me for s’long…” nanami is entranced by his best friend’s daughter’s cunt, sucking him in so well he starts to realise that maybe buying sandwiches everyday wasn’t simply for reminsincing. you fight against his strong grip, smiling up at him, deliriously. “yeah? it’s all for you, daddy.” and nanami forgets his own rule, groaning out loud at the drop of the name as he continues to slam into you. it’s so wet and sticky, pre-cum mixed with your cum together with the slap of his balls on your ass, it was so fucking disgusting in that room and you loved it.
whines of “daddy’s” were all that was coherent from your mouth, headboard of the bed rocking with naanmi’s rough thrusts as you become more and more intoxicated on his cock. nanami easily removes his shirt, then, reaching an arm around and starts to rub your clit, feeling your pussy flutter around him before you’re jolting in surprise at the sudden orgasm, mouth going slack and your eyes seeing white from its intensity. nanami slows down just a little for you to adjust, but soon he rails into you again, low grunts leaving his lips before he’s asking where you want him to cum and he wants to burn your fucked out expression into his brain and seal your whimpers from ever escaping his thoughts.
“wan’ your cum in me, daddy— p-please!” you moan out, spreading your cheeks and pussy lips to tell him you were serious. “b-but—” nanami was getting lightheaded, your walls feel too good around him and he just wants to cum. “wonder what my dad would think having his best friend fill me with so much cum that he knocks me up? that would be exciting, right?” and nanami scoffs at what a filthy girl you are. sure, if you wanted his cum dripping out of your cunt while you attended lectures, while your joked with your dad, he’ll give it to you. he’ll give anything to you. there’s a choked moan that leaves nanami as he stills, pumping you full of his semen while your fingers close around the sheets and your pleas are muffled by them. you can fill each spurt of cum from his tip, flowing into you so well that it dribbles out from your pussy, pushing it out before there’s a swipe of nanami’s finger plunging into you.
“if my sweet girl wants my cum, she’s going to keep it in. well — after i give her a few more loads, of course.”
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so many dorm escapades.. maybe im projecting a little cause is this so difficult to ask for???
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literarydumpinggrounds · 2 months ago
Note
i need whiney izuku 🙏
anything sub izuku por favor
Minors DNI 🔞 bon appetite, nonnie ~ hope this hits the spot!
Thinking about Professor!Izuku..
Professor!Izuku who would fist fight bears, quirk or no quirk, to protect his students— his kids.
Professor!Izuku who was determined to keep up with his explosive best friend’s progress after everything they went through.. Who makes it to the gym every day, no excuses, and worked his ass off to catch back up with that strength he’d lost; quirk be damned!
Professor!Izuku who does the absolute most when it comes to his job, because he feels such an immense responsibility to prepare his young heroes for every possible outcome. He refuses to let anyone else slip through his fingers.
Professor!Izuku who quickly becomes his students’ favorite teacher at UA. The perfect example of firm encouragement, guidance, and strength as he mentored the new generation of heroes.
Professor!Izuku that dresses in button up shirts, colorful ties, and those sinfully tailored, pleated dress pants. You know what I’m talking about.
Professor!Izuku that always has a bento box for his lunch, specially prepared by you; abundantly packed with his favorite foods, and treats to snack on throughout his day..
Professor!Izuku that wouldn’t usually be so forgetful— thanks to his impressive memory —but consecutive evenings grading exams in that little office would melt even the most brilliant of minds.
The ambience of the room was warmed by the aromatics of a wax warmer nestled on a corner shelf, enveloping the nearly dark classroom in a relaxed atmosphere as the light leeched through the crack of his office door. Something a bit toasty and masculine, yet overwhelmingly sweet..
Almost marshmallow-y, you think.
Peering through the opening briefly, you found your boyfriend exactly where you suspected he would be. Lingering over a stack of papers on his desk as the end of his pen tapped absently against the page, those scrumptious scarred forearms on display since he’d neatly folded his sleeves up to his elbows. He was murmuring to himself, something soft and subconscious that made it impossible to make out whether it was commentary or monologuing. It didn’t make much difference to you anyhow, so you plopped his AllMight lunch tote onto the end of the table with a weighty thump.
“Teachers are supposed to go home after hours, you know..” you prodded impishly, delighting in the way he startled in his chair at the abrupt resurgence of sound into the quiet room. The sight of you leaned against the wooden surface had his shoulders loosening in an instant, verdant eyes melting with a fondness that you swore would never get old.
“What’re you doing here, beautiful?”
He’s instinctively reaching out for you, fingers wiggling slightly as he pulls his chair out from under the desk; the freckled edges of his tired eyes crinkled with mirth, until he notices that you resist the urge to join him.
You can see that brilliant mind at work then. The way his brow creases in thought, studying you carefully. Searching your face for a tell like it would appear in bold text across your forehead.
He was so cute when he went to his mind palace.
“H-Honey?” he mused, visibly beginning to shrink himself under your gaze. Like a lovesick little pup with those inquisitive eyes, and a sheepish tilt of his head that made a few tufts of green hair tickle his eyelashes.
He was all too familiar with what happened when you got that look, and the way he was hopelessly incapable of not giving in to your magnetic pull. The pull of that red string.
“I believe this belongs to you..” you acknowledged the bag briefly, enjoying the way you were able to affect him so easily.
He gaped adorably for a fraction of a second before his ears went pink, and the word vomit began. Rambling on about how he’d almost overslept, and couldn’t remember where he’d left his briefcase (which was full of graded papers) so he nearly missed his train, but made it just in time! And then—
Pushing your weight back onto your feet, you move to stand between his legs, silencing him with your hands around his tie. Such a good boy, even when he doesn’t have to be.. A tender smile ghosts across your lips as his hands fall into his lap in anticipation, even though the center of his irises were shimmering around slightly dilated pupils. Attentive, and waiting for a crumb of your affection to topple into his grasp.. Though his driven nature was something that had drawn you to him all those years ago, it was often his biggest weakness when it came to his wellbeing.
“You’re not in trouble, baby. I’m just concerned that you’re tired enough to leave perfectly good katsudon to waste away on the kitchen counter all day.. s’not like you.”
Though you let it slide, you certainly don’t miss the way his eyes flicker towards the door before snapping back to you..
Kneading your fingertips into the knot of his tie, you let your attention ooze downward as you leisurely loosen the constricted fabric; the first couple buttons of his shirt following soon after, pulling a pitiful little mmph~ sound past his pouting lips.
So needy..
Your hands slide against the skin of his neck, caressing the scarred areas at his clavicle while you openly thirst over him for a moment. The slight panting of his breathing, and the way it tested the limits of his shirt with every puff of his chest. What a sight for sore eyes.. and he was unequivocally, wholeheartedly yours. His expression was giving him away, like a printed stream of his incessant thoughts. The tension building between you was driving his pulse through the roof, and persuading all of his blood south.
Touch me. Kiss me. Love me. Fuck me.
By this point his flush was beginning to creep over his shirt collar, his hands fidgeting impatiently with practiced restraint. He knew he could, but he wanted you to give him permission to touch you. The revelation sent warmth bubbling through your chest, the thrill of it urging you forward with your hand rested against his throat; stopping abruptly once his lips were a breath away from your own.
Sometimes you were reminded of just how much you loved him, and the surging feeling makes you want to gobble him up. Swallow him whole.
“Oh, my silly little sensei.. Always carrying the weight for everyone except himself.” you teased a chaste whisper of a kiss over his lips, salacious smile smearing over your cheeks when he openly squirms. His hands had moved to grip the chair’s edge between his thighs, and his brows finally drooped to complete the pouty expression that he’d been suppressing. Desperation playing at the edges of his face, thinly veiled as impatience with your teasing; but you both knew the truth.
You had always been able to see right through him.
“Please..” he murmured breathlessly, seemingly in a battle with himself on whether or not to meet your eyes. “The way you’re looking at me, sweetheart- it’s.. I can’t take it! I-“
“What, precious?” you beamed, that sadistic itch flaring within your gut as you held his face in your hands, giving him no choice but to look at you.
“I’m gonna get—“ he huffed childishly, finally unable to fight the rouge from spreading across his freckled cheeks, bottom lip threatening to wobble. “Y-You’re going to make me hard if you keep.. looking at me like that.”
It was like a band within you had snapped, dissolving every morsel of restraint that you possessed. His words had you crowding into his lap, settling yourself into the unoccupied space until you’d made yourself comfortable. It didn’t matter that you were at his job, albeit after hours. It didn’t matter that someone could walk in, and catch you both in such a compromising position. This sweet man had been carrying the weight on his bare back for so long— too long —and you were the only one that could truly lift that off of him. Refurbish the cluttered state of his mind, and bring him back into himself after such a stressful couple of weeks.
So you did what you’d wanted to since you’d arrived..
You kissed him until you didn’t know where he began, and you ended; until you weren’t sure that there was ever a difference to begin with.
~
“Ohhh, please!~“ he moaned miserably, hands making the arms of the chair creak under his intense grip. “Wanna— uh!~ Want you to m-make me.. P-Please, angel! Pleasepleasepl—“
God, he was so hot.. Drool gathered at the edges of his puffy, bitten lips as you ground yourself onto his cock. Refusing to start bouncing again, to give him permission to unravel and paint your insides, until he asked you properly. Asked like the good boy he was. Despite the effect he was having on you, your head was shaking no before he’d even finished; a flurry of whining little whimpers erupting into the space between you, his hips twitching upwards in protest.
“So embarrassing— please d-don’t make me say it!”
Another barely there swirl of your hips..
“Ughhh~ no fair! S’not fair!” he panted pathetically, glossy doe eyes saying everything that he wasn’t. “T-That’s playing dirt—“
You cut him off with a twist of his nipples, sharp and tugging.
“You can fill my pussy up, puppy..~” your words were dripping with the pleasure coursing through you, cooing sweetly at him as you used him for your gratification. While you made him wait until his willful spirit had broken. Your actions were a total contrast with your tone, harsh and biting as you began corkscrewing of your hips, watching as the strength of dignity left him; determined to get your way with him, even if you had to break him to get it. “Be a good boy so I can make those big, aching balls give it all up for me, sensei~”
With a loud grunt, the floodgates burst open, giving you everything you wanted and more.. Begging you to use him as your own personal toy, to let him breed you until your womb was swollen with him; to let him make you a mommy. Once he started, you weren’t sure he knew how to stop — but your eyes rolled back with the electric wave of your orgasm just the same. Izuku and that big fucking mouth of his.. goddamn if you weren’t obsessed with this man.
“Ohh my fucking god!~” a shrill sound of something between delight, and overwhelming pleasure leapt out of him as you rode him through your release. You tugged him close by his hair, sharing a heated kiss before your low lidded gazes met, and you gave in. Gritting your teeth in overstimulated ecstasy as you demanded that he gave you what he owes you, greedy and impatient until he’s tipping his head back in bliss.
“T-That fucking pussy~ I’m cumming! Thank you! Fuuuck~ thank you thank you thank you..”
~
Professor!Izuku that can’t be in his office for the next week without getting a chub remembering the lewd things that were said, and how hard he came inside of you.. but he was sure not to forget his lunch the next day!
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jksarchives · 3 months ago
Text
THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP│ 05
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➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader
➪ GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst
➩ CHAPTER WARNINGS; mention of blood
➪ WC; 12.3k
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✎ series masterlist
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4. ACCEPTANCE
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
It had been exactly three months since Jungkook came back to your shared apartment to collect the last of his belongings.
Three months since he had permanently walked out of your life, leaving behind the echoes of a ten-year relationship. The ten years together was reduced to a cardboard box.
Even after your outburst, he had been calm, almost detached, as if the decade you shared was merely a chapter he was closing without a second thought or consideration.
You sat at a small, round table outside your office’s café to have your lunch break. You absently stirred your coffee, your mind far from the noise of the busy city around you.
With your other hand, you scrolled through the news on your phone. And your heart sank as you saw the bold headlines finally announcing his wedding.
There was a photo of the happy couple, beaming at each other with an affection that made your stomach churn.
▍“Jeon Jungkook of Jeon Enterprise Marries Childhood Sweetheart — A Perfect Match.”
The article was full of praise for the match, highlighting how their union was a merging of two influential families, and how it had been celebrated as the wedding of the year.
The girl he was marrying wasn’t a stranger to anyone, nor was she someone Jungkook had just met. Aera was her name. She was the daughter of his father’s best friend, a model. She was a woman who was not only successful in her own right but also well-known throughout the country.
Of course you had only just learned that fact as you read through the article.
And, childhood sweetheart?
You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, because he had never mentioned this girl in all your years together.
Was he already thinking about her while you were still together? Had he ever really loved you, or were you just a placeholder until the real thing came along?
You felt a pang in your chest, the kind that took your breath away. It wasn’t the sharp, overwhelming pain of the initial breakup; it was more of a dull, persistent throb, like an old injury flaring up.
A part of you had always hoped that Jungkook would come back, that he would realise the mistake he had made in leaving you. But seeing him in that picture, with his arm wrapped around his new wife, that hope finally crumbled into dust.
You felt your eyes sting. For a moment you thought about leaving the café and going back to the office, forgetting about the remaining thirty minutes of your unpaid break.
But you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t cry anymore, that you would be strong.
You were tired — tired of crying, tired of feeling stuck in a place where the past held so much power over your present. You had shed enough tears, spent enough nights questioning yourself and replaying the moments where maybe, just maybe, things could have gone differently.
You wanted to move on. You needed to.
But the truth was, you didn’t know how to move on.
Ten years was a long time to spend with someone, to build a life with them, only to have it all torn away in an instant. And now, to see Jungkook so happy, so quickly after your breakup, it made you feel like everything you had shared meant nothing. Like you had meant nothing at all.
Ten years was a long time — long enough for you to lose yourself in the identity you had both built together.
Who were you without him? What did you want from life now that the future you both planned was no longer an option?
These questions haunted you, leaving you feeling lost and unsure of how to take the first steps toward healing.
You knew that moving on wasn’t something that could be forced. It wasn’t a matter of waking up one day and deciding that you were over him. It was a process, one that would likely be messy and nonlinear.
But as you sat with the news of his marriage, you also realised that you couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. It wasn’t fair to yourself — to the person you had the potential to become.
There would be no easy answers, no quick fixes.
But maybe that was okay. Maybe moving on wasn’t about forgetting him or erasing the past. Maybe it was about finding a way to carry those memories with you while still making space for new ones.
You had spent so much time looking back, trying to understand what went wrong, that you had forgotten to look forward, to consider what might come next.
But you didn’t have all the answers. You weren’t even sure where to start.
Suddenly, the chair opposite you at your table scraped loudly against the tiled floor, jolting you from your thoughts. You didn’t even notice that someone had approached your table. Your focus shifted from the phone in your hand to the man now sitting in front of you.
A soft thud on the table — a plastic wrapped burrito — accompanied his arrival, and you finally looked up, blinking as your mind tried to catch up with reality.
“Thought I’d find you here” the manly voice said.
“Hey there, lost in thought, or are you just admiring my good looks?” Mingyu teased, his voice light and playful.
Despite the ache in your chest, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.
Mingyu was your best friend who you worked alongside at the office. He was probably the only guy friend you had and trusted the most. Though you only knew him since the beginning of college, you two became inseparable, just like with Minhee.
He always had a way of doing things — breaking through your walls with his easy-going humor. He always knew how to lift your spirits, even on the darkest days.
“Not everything revolves around you, you know” you shot back, trying to match his tone, but your voice wavered slightly.
“Well, it sure does look like it. Have you seen all the ladies trying to get my number at the office?” he playfully smirked to himself as he raised his brow.
You forced a small smile, the corners of your mouth lifting slightly, though your heart wasn’t in it. Mingyu’s timing, as usual, was both impeccable and unfortunate.
You appreciated his attempt to cheer you up, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to be pulled out of the emotional cocoon you had wrapped yourself in just yet.
Still, you didn’t want to seem ungrateful.
Mingyu’s expression softened when he noticed your gloomy mood. He leaned forward as his eyes searched for yours.
“Hey, what’s up?” He asked.
“Just...life stuff,” you replied vaguely, trying to brush it off.
But the effort to sound nonchalant was betrayed by the lingering sadness in your voice. You knew Mingyu would pick up on it — he was more perceptive than he let on.
Mingyu didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, as if his eyes spoke to you, to tell him what was really going on.
You knew better. Likewise Minhee, Mingyu had been there through it all — the breakup, the tears, the late-night phone calls when you couldn’t sleep. He would see right through any mask you tried to put up.
You sighed heavily, knowing there was no use in beating around the bush.
There was a moment of hesitation as your fingers hovered over the screen, as if unsure whether you should share what was weighing on your heart. But this was him. Your best friend. The one person who knew you inside and out, who had seen you at your best and worst, and never judged you for either.
With a quiet breath, you unlocked the phone and slid it across the table towards him. Your eyes averted from the screen, as if it burned you to look at it.
Mingyu picked up the phone, his brows knitting together as he glanced at the screen. The bright display showed the news article you’ve been reading, with a headline that slowly began to make sense. His eyes scanned the words, piecing together the story, and when he finally understood, his frown deepened.
The news was simple enough: a wedding announcement. Your ex-boyfriend, the man you once imagined spending the rest of your life with, was getting married.
He knew this day would come eventually. After all, the engagement had been public knowledge for months. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things. He processed the information, the realisation settling in.
When he looked up at you again, his expression had softened. He didn’t need to ask how you felt, it was written all over your face. You were trying so hard to hold it together, to be strong, but he could see the cracks in your facade, the vulnerability that you rarely showed to anyone.
“Hey,” he softly called out as he placed your phone down.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, okay? I know you’re hurting. You don’t have to keep it all inside” he said.
You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s not fair, you know? He gets to be happy, and I’m just…I’m still trying to figure out how to be okay” your voice almost came out as a whisper.
Mingyu wanted to say something, anything that would take away your pain. But all he could think about was how much he wanted to punch Jungkook, to make him feel even a fraction of the hurt he had caused you.
The images of him smiling happily in wedding photos, celebrating his new life, filled him with a rage he hadn't felt before. How could he move on so easily? How could he be so happy after everything he had put you through?
“You know what?” he said, his voice hardening.
“He doesn’t deserve to be happy. Not after what he did to you. And the fact that he can just move on like that, like you didn’t matter, like you were just a chapter he could close — that’s on him, not you. It says everything about who he is, and nothing about who you are” his jaw clenched as he spoke.
You smiled weakly, appreciating his words, but still feeling the sting of the news. “I know. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much” you sighed.
There was some silence for a minute or two. While Mingyu kept his gaze on you, you kept your head low to avoid looking at him.
You then shrugged, “but, I guess it’s okay. I mean, it’s been a while…I should be over it by now, right?” you said, unsure of your own words.
But he could see through you. He knew you too well to believe that. The tightness in your voice, the way you couldn't quite meet his eyes, all of it told him that you were far from okay. And that made his blood boil.
He gripped his coffee cup so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“No Y/n, it’s not okay” he unintentionally snapped, and you looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. Upon realising his tone, Mingyu sighed.
It wasn't okay. Not to him.
The thought of that man walking away unscathed, while you had to pick up the pieces of your life, was unbearable. He wanted to protect you, to shield you from the pain, but he also wanted to make Jungkook pay for what he had done.
It was irrational, he knew that, but the urge to punch the guy in the face, to wipe that smug smile off his face, was almost overwhelming.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the anger still simmered just beneath the surface. “I just...I hate seeing you hurt because of him,” he said, his voice softer now, but still edged with anger.
“It’s not okay for him to give up a ten year relationship and move on so quickly like it was nothing. It’s just so fucked up Y/n, you didn’t deserve any of that” he said.
“Then what do I do Gyu?” you question with a broken voice. It was a question he didn’t really have an answer for, but all he knew was that he couldn’t see you break any more than you already were.
“What I’m saying is, I just want you to remember that none of this is your fault” he began as he reached out to hold your hands.
“You gave him everything — your love, your time, your patience. You did everything you could to make that relationship work. But it wasn’t you who failed. It was him. He was the one who took your love for granted, who thought that after everything you two shared, he could just walk away and start over with someone else. That’s on him, not you” he ranted.
“I hate how you’re questioning yourself over him. You’ve always been more than enough. If anything, he was the one who wasn’t enough for you. He treated your relationship like it was something cheap, something he could trade in for something new. That was his choice, his failure, not yours” he continued.
You looked down at your hands, twisting your fingers together as if trying to wring the pain out of them. You tried to control your tears as you nibbled on your lips hard.
Mingyu couldn’t stand to see you like this, burdened by a guilt that didn’t belong to you. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so you had to meet his gaze.
“You’ve blamed yourself enough, and it has to stop. You gave him your best, and he chose to walk away. That doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough” he assured you.
You knew you had reached a point where you had to accept the truth.
You had to accept that the man you once loved, the man you still loved, had moved on. He had found happiness with someone else, and there was nothing you could do to change that. It was a hard pill to swallow, but deep down, you knew it was the only way forward rather than keep blaming yourself when none of it was your fault.
And you were glad that Minhee and Mingyu were there to remind you about it, while still giving you the space and reassurance you needed.
But acceptance didn’t come easily.
It wasn’t something you could force, and it wasn’t something that happened overnight. It was a slow, painful process of coming to terms with the fact that your life had taken a turn you never expected. The future you imagined was no longer possible, and you had to find a way to make peace with that.
Moving forward seemed impossible, like asking you to walk with broken legs. But you knew that as long as you held on to the past, you would never be able to heal.
Accepting your fate was the first step toward reclaiming your life, even if that life felt empty without him. It meant facing the pain head-on, allowing yourself to grieve not just the loss of him, but the loss of who you had been with him.
“You’ll get through this Y/n, I promise” Mingyu said, and you could only give him a weak smile.
“Minhee and I will always be here for you. And if we need to kick that bastard’s ass, we will gladly do so” his voice firmed, to which you couldn’t help but slightly giggle.
“You’re just looking for an opportunity to beat him up” you told him.
“He hurt my best friend, of course I’d want to beat the shit out of him” he scoffed, picking up his coffee mug and then taking a sip.
You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone before stuffing it in your bag. “Hurry up, our break finishes in two minutes” you told him, changing the topic. You stood up to leave but waved his hand to stop you as he chugged his coffee.
Finally placing the cup down, he stood up. “Damn, I didn’t even get to eat my burrito” he huffed.
“Too bad, you’ll have to starve for the rest of the day. Now hurry” you said nonchalantly before you began to walk off.
“Rude” Mingyu mumbled with a frown. You knew he was probably going to secretly stuff his face at his desk next to you while using you as a shield from your boss.
┄┄┄┄┄
It was almost 3pm.
You sat at your desk with your back straight, and your eyes glued to the computer. Your fingers moved swiftly over the keys as you navigated through the data you were inputting. The reports had to be submitted by the end of the day, and you were determined to finish everything on time.
Though a lot had happened in your life for the past few months, you managed to step up with your focus. Your focus was razor-sharp, undeterred by the distractions around you — at least for the most part.
Sitting at the adjacent desk, Mingyu was in a state of panic. Though he tried to keep it subtle, his eyes darted nervously around the office as he took rapid, secretive bites from his burrito he was unable to eat earlier.
The aroma of warm grilled meat, beans, and spices filled the corner of the office, making you smirk without even looking up from your screen. Just as you predicted.
Your boss, Mr. Han, was in his glass-walled cabin, not more than twenty feet away. The positioning of the cabin gave him a direct line of sight to most of his employees, and that included the corner where you both sat.
You could hear the rustle of the burrito wrapper, and you knew Mingyu was trying to muffle the sound, which only made it more noticeable in the quiet office.
You finally glanced sideways at him. He was hunched over, pretending to review documents on his desk while quickly cramming the burrito into his mouth. His cheeks were puffed out, and the desperate look in his eyes betrayed the calm he was attempting to project. It was like watching a squirrel trying to hide its food before someone else discovered it.
You sighed, trying to ignore him as you went back to her report.
But the sound of his loud chewing broke through your focus again. You pressed your lips into a thin line.
Seriously?
You darted a glance his way. He was trying to eat quietly, but the rustle of the burrito wrapper and the squelch of sauce made his attempts impossible.
“Can you stop being so loud?” you hissed under your breath as you looked towards him.
Mingyu froze for a second, mid-bite, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. He glanced at you, then at the boss’s office, as if trying to gauge whether he’d been caught. When he realised he was still in the clear, he lowered the burrito slightly.
“What? I’m starving here. I didn’t get to eat...you know, trying to comfort you,” he said with a grumpy frown.
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You appreciated Mingyu more than you let on, but this wasn’t the time to show it.
You were swamped, and the last thing you needed was to be pulled out of your focus by his lunchtime theatrics.
“Yeah, yeah, thanks for that” you muttered, your eyes going back to focusing on the screen.
“Just finish eating before Mr. Han sees you and writes you up for violating the ‘no food at the desk’ rule” you told him.
Mingyu smirked, suddenly unbothered by the threat. “He’s not going to notice,” he whispered, glancing cautiously toward the boss’s office. “He’s on a call anyway” he added.
“Right, that’s why you’re being a sneaky little rat hiding behind me” you scoffed.
You knew he was probably right. Mr. Han was often too preoccupied with phone calls and meetings to notice the small infractions happening under his nose. Still, you weren’t going to take any chances, especially since you were already on his radar after that rough meeting earlier in the morning.
“It’s just an extra precaution” he argued back.
“Whatever, just be quiet” you said before continuing with your work.
┄┄┄┄┄
It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later that you suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over you.
It was subtle at first, a mere flutter that made you blink a few times. But then it grew stronger, a sensation that left you light-headed, as though the ground beneath you was shifting.
Your vision blurred, the sharp black lines of the spreadsheet softening and bending at the edges. You tried to refocus, blinking hard and squinting, but the haze refused to clear.
You shook your head to attempt to clear the fog settling over your mind. A small frown creased your brow as you leaned back in your chair, taking a deep breath.
Maybe it was the stress, or perhaps you hadn’t slept well enough the night before. It was hard to tell, but you had no time for this — there was still so much work to be done.
You rubbed your temples and tried to force yourself to concentrate, your fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Mingyu had noticed your sudden stillness, and the slight fidgeting that followed. He glanced over, and concern immediately knitted his features when he saw you shaking your head and pressing your fingers against your temples.
“Y/n,” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry, “are you okay?”.
You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to alarm him. You hated being the center of attention when you weren’t feeling well — especially in the office. It was just a moment of weakness, you told yourself. Something fleeting.
“I’m fine,” you said, your voice steady but soft. You offered him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Just a little dizzy, probably need more coffee or something”.
But even as you spoke, you could feel the strange fog lingering. Your mouth felt dry, your throat slightly parched.
You reached for the water bottle sitting on your desk, your fingers wrapping tightly around it as if anchoring yourself to something solid. With a small twist, you opened the cap and took a slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe your throat.
The dizziness didn’t subside immediately, but the act of drinking water helped you refocus. You could feel Mingyu’s gaze lingering on you, his brows still furrowed. He didn’t seem convinced, but you appreciated that he didn’t press the issue further.
“You sure?” he asked, leaning slightly towards you. “You’ve been working nonstop for hours. Maybe you need a break”.
You shook your head as you capped the bottle and set it back down on the desk.
“It’s alright” you replied, though you weren't quite sure yourself.
Your head felt slightly clearer now, but a nagging sense of unease remained. “I’ll be fine. Just need to get through this report” you told him.
Mingyu gave you a knowing look. “Don’t push yourself too hard, alright?” he said.
You nodded again, “I won’t” you said, offering him a more genuine smile this time.
He gave you one last glance before returning to his work, but you could still feel his concern hovering nearby.
Taking another deep breath, you straightened in your chair and refocused on the screen in front of you. The letters and numbers on the spreadsheet seemed to swim a little less now, but you promised yourself you’d take a real break soon.
Just one more task to finish. Just a little more.
┄┄┄┄┄
The quietness in the office room was interrupted when the main door at the far end of the room creaked open.
You glanced up briefly, your curiosity piqued, but quickly returned your attention to your work, assuming it was a delivery or perhaps a colleague returning from a break.
But there was a sudden shift in atmosphere when a couple walked in. It was more a subtle shift — a collective awareness that whoever had just entered commanded respect, or perhaps a higher level of attention.
Everyone in the room had their attention on them apart from you, who was too immersed in your work.
Mr. Han was the first to react. His head snapped up from his screen, eyes lighting up with a mixture of surprise and enthusiasm.
He quickly stood up, adjusting his suit jacket before striding out of his office with the kind of urgency reserved for someone important. As he approached the couple, his voice took on a tone that was almost worshipful.
“Mr. and Mrs. Jeon! Welcome, it’s a pleasure to see you both” her boss greeted them with a wide, almost courteous smile.
Your fingers froze over the keyboard mid-sentence.
The name hit you like a wave of ice water.
Jeon.
You were frozen completely, your heart skipping a beat as the reality of the situation sank in. Slowly, almost as if you were afraid of what you would find, you turned your head toward the door, your body stiff, unwilling to fully confront the scene.
There, standing tall and composed in the doorway, was Jungkook.
It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. He hadn’t changed much since the last time you saw him — his dark hair still fell slightly over his forehead, and his presence still commanded the room in that subtle, effortless way it always had.
But something about him felt different now. More polished, more distant, like he had moved on in a way you never quite had.
He was looking as smart and composed as ever in a tailored suit, the very picture of success and confidence. And his arm was draped loosely around the waist of a woman with sleek, styled hair and a diamond ring that glittered in the office lighting.
The woman he had just married. Aera.
The two of them looked every bit the perfect couple, a vision of what your life might have been had things gone differently.
But why is he here?
You didn’t expect this. Why would you?
He never mentioned anything about business ties to your company, not during your time together, not even in passing.
Yet, here he was, standing in your office, the place you thought was your own, a separate space from the past you both shared. And worse, he was here as someone important — someone who clearly had a powerful connection to your boss.
“Why is that bastard here?” you heard Mingyu curse under his breath as he shot daggers at the couple. He too had the same question, and was seething with anger as his fists clenched tightly
For a moment, you prayed he wouldn’t notice you. That the busy office, the crowd of people, and the conversations would swallow you whole and spare you from this encounter.
But fate, as always, had a cruel sense of humor.
While Jungkook conversed with your boss, his eyes swept across the room, indifferent, until they finally landed on you.
His smile faltered.
It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it — the moment recognition flickered in his eyes, and the easy, confident smile he wore dipped for just a fraction of a second.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you locked eyes, a torrent of emotions flashing between you in the briefest of moments. His expression softened into something you couldn’t quite read — regret, surprise, or perhaps something else entirely — but it was enough to send your stomach into knots.
And then, as quickly as it happened, the moment passed. Aera turned to him with a smile, completely oblivious to the silent exchange, and he broke the gaze, looking down at her with that same charming smile that once used to belong to you.
Maybe it really was the time to accept that you no longer existed in his life.
You swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly as they hovered over the keyboard once again. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the background and become invisible.
But the truth was, you were stuck there, at your desk, with nowhere to hide.
As the couple moved further into the room, their attention now on your boss, you allowed yourself one last glance in their direction. There was a strange numbness that settled in your chest as you saw the way he held her, just like he used to hold you.
You turned back to your screen, your vision slightly blurred as you stared at the half-finished report. The words no longer made sense, your concentration completely shattered.
For the first time in a while, you felt like the world had shifted beneath your feet, and all you could do was hold on until the moment passed.
You didn’t want to look at him. And you didn’t want him to look at you. You just seeked an excuse to rid yourselves from each others’ lives now that neither of you had anything to do with each other.
Perhaps it’ll hurt less.
You tried to concentrate back on your work, to ignore his presence, but you felt the wave of nausea and dizziness wash over you again. As you stared at the screen in front of you, the numbers and letters blurred, and you had to blink a few times to steady your vision.
You took a few sips of water, but it didn’t help. If anything, you started feeling worse.
You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the strange haze in your mind. But just as you thought you had gained some control, the dizziness striked again, stronger this time.
Your hands instinctively reached for the edge of your desk, fingers gripping the cool surface as if it were the only thing keeping you harboured to the earth. Your heart began to race, and a cold sweat formed on your forehead.
You felt a gentle nudge against your arm. Startled, you turned your head slowly towards him with unsteady movement. You saw Mingyu looking at you with worry etched on his face.
“Y/n, are you okay? You look really pale” he asked, his voice low and soft.
You forced a small smile, swallowing the unease that was tightening in your chest. “I'm fine,” you lied, your voice sounding weaker than you intended.
But Mingyu wasn’t convinced this time. His eyes scanned her face, noticing the way your shoulders were tense, the slight tremble in your hands as you rested them in your lap. He knew you too well to let it go.
“You don’t look fine to me Y/n. I think you should go home and rest, I’ll let Mr. Han know” he said, but you shook your head.
“G-Gyu, I’m fine, really. Maybe it’s all this screen time. I’ll be fine after a break” you tried to convince him more. You didn’t want to worry him — or worse, be the center of attention in the office especially when he was here.
You were always the one who handled things on your own, the one who didn’t need help. But right now, your body was betraying you, and the more you tried to shake off the dizziness, the more persistent it became.
Slowly, you stood up from your chair, but the moment you did, the dizziness intensified. It was as if the ground beneath you had moved, and you stumbled slightly, your feet feeling unstable.
You reached out instinctively as your hand brushed against the edge of the desk for support. Your heart was racing in your chest as you tried to balance yourself, but your legs felt weaker than they should.
Mingyu was by your side in an instant, his hand hovering near your back, ready to catch you if you fell. “Whoa, careful there,” he said worriedly, “you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
You nodded, though your confidence in your own balance was shaky at best. “Yeah, just a little off-balance. I’m fine, really. I’m going to go to the restroom” you told him. Mingyu nibbled on his lip, nervous to let you go alone in this condition. But he nodded anyway.
As you took your first step toward the restroom, you weren’t so sure whether you’d even make it to the restroom before you faint.
Each step felt heavier than the last, as though your body was moving through water, and your mind was struggling to keep up with the physical effort.
The dizziness swirled around you, making your surroundings feel longer to walk through than it was. The fluorescent lights overhead were too bright, it was making everything even worse.
You were barely halfway across the office when you felt it — a warm, wet sensation on your upper lip.
You paused mid-step, frowning in confusion. Slowly, your hand reached up to touch your nose. And when you pulled your fingers away, they were smeared with bright red blood.
A nosebleed.
Your dizziness deepened, and a sense of vertigo overtaking you. You blinked a few times to try to ease yourself, but the room was spinning now, the walls closing in.
You didn’t have time to process the blood, the dizziness, or the sudden overwhelming feeling of vulnerability. Your body felt lighter, like you were losing control of your limbs.
Suddenly, your foot misstepped, and you staggered, causing her body to tilt forward. Before you could register what was happening, you collided with something solid — a hard chest.
You gasped, and your vision was swirling as you tried to regain your footing, but your legs gave out beneath you. You were falling.
But then, just as quickly, you felt a strong pair of arms catch you. They wrapped around you firmly and steadily, preventing you from hitting the floor.
For a moment, you leaned into the embrace, the warmth and strength unfamiliar yet comforting in your current state of weakness. Your breaths were shallow, and your vision blurred further as you tilted your head back, trying to see who had caught you.
Through the haze, your blurry vision settled on a familiar face, the lines of his jaw and the shape of his unmistakable big doe eyes.
Your breath hitched in your throat. Your heart pounded in your chest for a different reason now.
It was him.
The man who had broken your heart not so long ago, the one you had spent months crying over. And here he was, holding you in his arms as if the past hadn't shattered you.
“I’ve got you,” Jungkook whispered softly, his voice cutting through the fog in her mind.
His expression shifted from surprise to alarm as he noticed the blood trickling down from your nose. “What the hell—?” his arms tightened around you to keep you upright.
“Y/n! Fuck your nose is bleeding!” his voice was sharp with worry.
The world around you continued to spin, your body weak from the dizziness. Your mind raced with a flood of emotions — confusion, anger, and something you didn’t want to acknowledge, relief.
But the last thing you wanted was his help.
Desperately, you tried to push him away, to pull yourself from his grip. The humiliation of being caught in such a vulnerable state — by him of all people — was almost worse than the dizziness.
You needed to get away, to be anywhere but in his arms.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, trying to sound stern and cold. But your voice came out weak and shaky, betraying you.
You attempted to take a step, but your legs wobbled as they refused to cooperate. Your body was betraying you now, too. No matter how much your mind screamed at you to move, your limbs wouldn’t obey.
The dizziness surged again, threatening to pull you under. You swayed, and his grip on you tightened as he pulled you closer, his breath warm against her ear.
“You’re not fine,” he murmured, his tone firmer now. His hand moved to the back of your head, gently supporting you.
But his touch burned.
The comfort of his arms turned to ice. Anger surged through you, fueled by the hurt you had buried deep inside, hurt you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel fully until this very moment.
You tried to push him away with your palms weakly pressing against his chest, but your body betrayed her once again, too weak to follow through.
“Don’t touch me,” you croaked, your voice raspier than you intended, more vulnerable than you wanted it to be. You tried again, harder this time, but your knees trembled, and you swayed unsteadily.
“Y/n, you're not okay. Let me—” he started, worriedly trying to reach for you again.
“I said don’t!” your voice cracked, but your anger flared stronger.
You couldn’t stand the concern in his eyes, the worry that once would have comforted you but now only reminded you of the pain he had caused.
You didn’t want his help, not now, not ever again.
You’re finally coming to accept that he broke your heart. You’re finally coming to accept that he had fallen in love with another woman who apparently made him happier than you.
You’re finally coming to accept the fact that he’s not yours anymore. Maybe he never was.
But as much as you wanted to move away from him, your body refused to cooperate. The dizziness was overwhelming now, the room spinning so violently you could barely keep your eyes open.
The blood continued to drip from your nose, a warm trail sliding over your upper lip. Your vision dimmed again, the edges darkening even more than before.
Jungkook could only stare at you with hurt flashing in his eyes and his heart dropping to his stomach.
His face remained blurred to you but his voice sounded closer, “please let me help you, you’re bleeding Y/n” he sounded desperate and panicky.
You clenched your teeth, feeling frustration and exhaustion battling within you. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to leave you alone, but the words wouldn’t come.
No matter how much you resisted, the dizziness was overwhelming your senses, pulling you further down into darkness. You tried to fight it, but your vision grew blurrier, your limbs heavier, until you couldn’t fight anymore.
Eventually, your body slumped against Jungkook’s chest as consciousness slipped away from your grasp.
“Y/n!” his voice was loud and panicked which caught the attention of everyone in the room. His arms tightened around you, catching you before you could hit the floor.
“Y/n, hey, stay with me!” he shook you gently, but your head lolled against his chest, unresponsive.
From the corner of the room, a chair scraped harshly against the floor, and Mingyu appeared in an instant, rushing towards you both. His face twisted with concern yet anger as he took in the sight of you in Jungkook’s arms, unconscious and nose bleeding.
“Y/n! Y/N!” his voice cut through the haze of unconsciousness, filled with panic.
Without hesitation, he shoved Jungkook away, his expression fierce as he crouched beside you. “Get the hell away from her!” he barked, feeling his protective instincts kicking in.
Jungkook stumbled back , and his arms fell uselessly at his sides as he stared, wide-eyed, at your pale, bleeding form. Mingyu didn't spare him a second glance.
“Y/n? Y/n, come on, wake up,” Mingyu muttered urgently, gently pulling you into his arms. His hands trembled as he brushed your hair away from your face, wiping at the blood that was still trickling from your nose. Panic filled in his chest, and his heart was racing uncontrollably. Your skin was cold, and you weren’t responding.
“Mingyu” Jungkook began, stepping forward, his voice shaking. But Mingyu shot him a glare that could have stopped anyone in their tracks.
"I said back. off.” he gritted his teeth. He didn’t care that he was superior to your boss, he’ll always be the bastard who shattered his best friend’s heart and dreams.
Everyone in the office stopped what they were doing as they watched the scene unfold with shock and disbelief. The murmur of whispers filled the room, but Mingyu couldn’t focus on any of it. His only concern was his best friend, who lay unmoving in his arms.
“Somebody call an ambulance!” he yelled into the open office space, his voice breaking with fear.
In the chaos that followed, Jungkook took a hesitant step forward, reaching out as if to help, but Mingyu’s glare stopped him cold. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed. “You’ve done enough”
His words stung, but Jungkook remained frozen, torn between the guilt weighing on his heart and the reality of what was happening. All he could do was watch as the woman he once loved lay unconscious, bleeding and vulnerable.
The office, which had fallen eerily silent, suddenly erupted into action. A few co-workers rushed to call for help while others watched the scene unfold, frozen in shock.
As the seconds ticked by, Mingyu held you tight, refusing to let go. He glanced down at your pale face, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek.
“You're going to be okay Y/n. I swear it,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
Seconds later, Mr. Han appeared from his office along with Aera. Both their faces were masked with confusion as they heard the commotion.
“What’s going on here?” Mr. Han asked as he arrived at the scene. He glanced at your unconscious with wide eyes before they glanced at the two men, trying to piece together what had happened.
But Mingyu didn’t answer. All he needed to hear was that the ambulance was on its way. And to his mild relief, someone stepped in. “The ambulance is coming” the man told him
Aera’s eyes flickered between Mingyu, you, and Jungkook, who was still standing frozen, his face pale. He had drops of your blood on his light blue shirt.
A knot of unease tightened in her stomach as she glanced at him, noting the way he was staring at you. She had always sensed there were unresolved feelings between the two of you, and now, in this moment of crisis, those feelings seemed to hang in the air like a thick cloud.
“Jungkook?” her voice was low, but it broke the silence that had engulfed him. He blinked, his expression shifting as though he had just realised where he was. He looked at her, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it was there.
“H-Huh?” he unknowingly stuttered.
“You okay?” she asked as she walked over to him, her hand reaching out to hold him. Jungkook gave her a nod to reassure her, but she saw the way he anxiously swallowed a thick lump.
After what felt like hours, the sound of the sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder as the ambulance approached.
Two paramedics rushed in, kneeling beside you as they swiftly began their assessment. One of them gently lifted your wrist, feeling for a pulse, while the other checked your vitals. The room was eerily silent, everyone watching with bated breath.
“Her pulse is faint,” one of the paramedics said, glancing at his partner with urgency. “We need to move fast”.
Mingyu’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes wide with fear. “Is she going to be okay?” his voice was barely above a whisper, but the question hung heavy in the air.
The paramedic didn’t answer right away. Instead, they moved with precision, placing an oxygen mask over your face. “We’ll do everything we can,” he finally said, his tone calm but serious.
Jungkook’s heart sank. He had been hoping for better news, but the severity of the situation was now clear. The paramedics moved quickly, placing you on a stretcher and preparing to take you to the hospital.
As they strapped you in, Jungkook’s heart finally broke free from the chains that had held him frozen in place. His pulse raced, his palms sweating.
For all the hurt between you, for all the bitterness you harbored towards him after he had shattered your relationship, he still cared about you deeply.
His feet moved before his mind caught up, and suddenly he was following the paramedics, his mind a blur of guilt and fear. His eyes locked on you as the paramedics wheeled you towards the door. He couldn’t let you go like this, not without doing something.
“I’m going with her,” Jungkook said, his voice breaking as removed himself from Aera’s hold and moved to follow the paramedics out the door.
Before he could take another step, Mingyu blocked his path. His eyes, usually kind, were sharp with fury as he shoved Jungkook back. “Stay away from her,” Mingyu snapped, his voice low and dangerous.
Jungkook stumbled, taken aback by the force of Mingyu’s words. He opened his mouth to protest, to explain, but he saw the raw emotion on Mingyu’s face — the fear, the protectiveness, the anger. It stopped him cold.
“This isn’t about you, Jungkook” Mingyu continued, his voice tight with emotion. “She doesn’t need you anymore. You lost that right”.
Jungkook clenched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to argue, to say that he still cared, that he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.
“I need to go with her Mingyu” Jungkook said, his voice trembling but determined. “I still care about her” he added.
Mingyu’s face twisted in disbelief and fury. “You care about her?” he repeated, his voice dripping with contempt. “You broke her heart. You don’t get to care about her now” he snapped.
There were audible gasps within the room, followed by hushed whispers, but it was the last thing Jungkook cared about. He stood still, his eyes pleading, “Mingyu, please…” he looked at the man with glossy eyes.
But Mingyu’s rage flared. “No. You’re not going to do this. Not now. She doesn’t need you. I’m here for her” he told him.
No matter how much it hurt for him to admit, Mingyu was right. He had lost his chance with you long ago. And now, all he could do was watch as the paramedics loaded you into the ambulance, Mingyu by your side, while he stood on the curb, helpless.
For a moment, the two men stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. Mr. Han watched tensely, while Aera stood off to the side, her face a mixture of shock and something unreadable as she glanced at her husband.
The tension in the air was heavy, and the seconds ticked by as the paramedics wheeled you out the door, your life hanging in the balance. Mingyu shot Jungkook a last glare before running off to follow the paramedics.
┄┄┄┄┄
As the ambulance doors shut with a heavy thud, Mingyu rushed to his car, his hands shaking as he fumbled for his keys.
His thoughts were racing in his mind. He knew something was wrong with you, but never thought it would be this serious. What if something happens? He cursed himself for panicking but couldn’t stop the rush of fear choking him.
Once behind the wheel, he followed closely behind the ambulance. His phone vibrated in the passenger seat, but he ignored it. Instead, he grabbed it and quickly dialed the one other person who might understand the terror he felt — Minhee.
Minhee picked up after the second ring. “Hey Gyu, what’s up?” her voice was light, oblivious to what was happening. Mingyu’s breath hitched in his throat, and the words tumbled out in a broken rush.
“It’s Y/n. Minhee she’s — she’s in the ambulance right now. She collapsed at work. There was blood, a nosebleed...I don’t know what happened. I’m following them to the hospital, but I’m scared. I’m really scared” his voice cracked, the enormity of the situation pressing down on him.
There was silence on the other end for a moment, as if Minhee was processing what he’d just said. “Oh my God. I’m on my way. I’ll meet you there. Just — please stay calm, okay?” she said
“I — I’ll try,” he mumbled, his vision blurred by the tears welling up in his eyes. He could barely focus on the road, but somehow, he managed to follow the flashing lights of the ambulance.
After the call ended, he tried to calm his breathing. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he continued following the ambulance. Every mile felt like eternity to him, but all he hoped right now was that the paramedics were doing what they could to stabilise your health.
After a few agonising minutes, the hospital finally came into view. As soon as the ambulance stopped, Mingyu parked his car haphazardly in the nearest space, not caring about the lines, and sprinted to the emergency entrance. He saw them wheeling you inside, your body still motionless, and for a moment, the sight nearly crippled him.
“Wait!” he called after them, his voice strained with desperation, but they were already through the double doors.
He started towards the entrance, but a nurse stepped in front of him, gently stopping him with a hand raised in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to wait out here. We’ll take care of her,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind.
He felt on the verge of breaking down, his heart screaming at the idea of waiting while his best friend was somewhere inside, possibly fighting for her life. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he stared at the nurse, his eyes wide and pleading.
“Please, take care of her. I can’t lose her” he begged, his voice choked with tears.
The nurse’s expression softened as she looked at him. “She will be okay, I promise,” she told him, before stepping through the doors, leaving him standing alone in the sterile, brightly lit waiting area.
Mingyu slumped onto one of the metal chairs in the hallway, burying his face in his hands. His whole body shook as the adrenaline and fear coursed through him.
Every scenario imaginable ran through his mind, each one worse than the last. He knew you were neglecting yourself ever since Jungkook broke up with you. You were improving but he knew at one point you were going to reach your breaking point.
What if it was something serious? What if they couldn’t help you? He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit him, and he realised he hadn’t taken a proper breath in what felt like hours. With trembling hands, he pulled his phone from his pocket and messaged Minhee of the hospital he was at.
After a while, the doors to the waiting area swung open and Minhee rushed in. Her eyes scanned the room frantically until they landed on Mingyu, and she immediately sprinted toward him.
“Mingyu!” she cried.
Mingyu noticed her presence and stood up almost instantly, “Minhee” he whispered, his lips quivering. Minhee threw her arms around him the moment she reached him.
He hugged her back just as desperately, his hold tightening as if letting go would make the situation worse. “I don’t know Minhee. She hasn't been feeling well ever since we returned from our lunch break” he began.
“She was going to the restroom, and the next moment, she just collapsed,” he explained as best as he could. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he buried his face in her shoulder, clinging to the only comfort he had in this moment.
Minhee sucked in a shaky breath as she pulled away. She sat down on the chair and pulled him down too. As much as she was worried sick too, one of them had to stay strong and hope for the best.
“She’ll be okay, let’s stay strong, hmm?” she patted his back.
Mingyu nodded, but he couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall freely. Minhee wrapped her arm around his shoulders, trying to be strong for him, but she was scared too. And she knew — of course, she knew — why this was hitting him so hard.
It wasn’t a secret between them. It wasn’t just because you were his best friend — Mingyu loved you.
He had for years, though he had never quite mustered the courage to tell you.
Minhee had always known. She could see it in the way he looked at you, the way he always put you first. The thought of something happening to you was unbearable for both of them, but for Mingyu, it was like his entire world was falling apart.
They had talked about it once, a while ago, when he couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. Minhee had been the one to listen, to support him, even though they both knew you didn’t feel the same way. At least not when you had Jungkook in your life.
You had always been oblivious, treating Mingyu with the same kind of warmth and affection you gave all to your close friends.
And yet, even knowing that, it hadn’t stopped him from falling for you.
But as Mingyu sat silently, something else stirred inside him. Beneath the fear was another emotion, one that burned hotter and sharper: anger.
“That fucking bastard” he gritted his teeth, his fists tightly clenching.
“What?” Minhee frowned in confusion.
Mingyu heaved out a loud annoyed sigh as he leaned back against the chair, throwing his head back. “Jungkook,” he began, “we don’t know what ties he has with our company, but he came today, with his fucking wife” he continued.
His mind began to replay the events of that lunch break earlier in the day, the last time he and you had talked.
It was only when Jungkook had appeared — with Aera — that your mood had completely shifted. You weren’t feeling well to begin with, but his sudden appearance seemed to worsen your symptoms.
“Can you believe he had the nerve to tell me he still cared about her and wanted to follow me to the hospital?” he huffed, “but I didn’t let him”.
Minhee scoffed, folding her arms against her chest, “he’s lucky I wasn’t there, or I would’ve kicked his ass” she said.
“You don’t know how badly I wanted to break his jaw right then and there, Minhee,” he groaned.
He couldn’t get the image out of his mind, the way your face dropped when you saw Jungkook, the way he was holding his wife, and the way you were pretending like it wasn’t affecting you.
Mingyu had hated Jungkook, he hated the way he still held power over you, even though your relationship had ended long ago and you were trying to come to terms with the fact that you and him were no longer a thing.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. How could someone like him — someone who had hurt you so deeply — be allowed to waltz back into your life, throwing you off balance again? And with his perfect, picture-perfect life in tow.
It wasn’t fair.
His breathing quickened as the anger built inside him, mixing with the helplessness he was already feeling.
Minhee seemed to notice and placed a hand on his arm. “Hey,” she said softly, “you look like you’re about to explode, calm down” she told him.
He shook his head, trying to steady himself, but the emotions were too strong. “I just...I can’t stand him, you? After everything he’s done” he muttered, his voice thick.
“Me neither, but right now we need to focus on Y/n, okay? She needs us” she said as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze.
Her words were like cold water dousing the flames of his anger, and he nodded, taking a deep breath.
She was right. He needed to be strong right now, for you, not consumed by hatred for someone who didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that you were going to be okay. You had to be.
┄┄┄┄┄
The second you slowly began to regain your consciousness, the sterile smell of the ward welcomed you.
You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision and make sense of your surroundings. The room was white — too white — and the lights overhead were painfully bright, making you squint.
When your vision slightly stabilised, your eyes scanned around the room. The walls were decorated with a few abstract paintings, likely meant to make the sterile environment feel a bit less clinical.
Then you noticed the tubes connected to you by an IV drip, and a heart monitor was attached to your chest. The soft beeping of the monitors were persistent and it was starting to get annoying.
You tried to sit up, but the weight of your body resisted your efforts, forcing you back down against the pillows.
It was as if your limbs had forgotten how to work, and the smallest movement sent waves of weakness coursing through your body.
Your hands trembled slightly as you reached up to touch your forehead, and you could feel the light sheen of sweat there. Your head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.
You felt disoriented, as if you were floating somewhere between consciousness and an inescapable void. Everything was a haze.
You blinked slowly, trying to piece together how you had ended up here. Your heart pounded in your chest as fragments of memories started to drift back, like broken pieces of glass coming together to form a jagged reflection.
The last thing I remember...you thought.
Then it hit you like a sudden jolt.
You remember feeling dizzy and lightheaded, a sharp, searing pain blooming in your head. You remembered making your way to the restroom when suddenly your nose started to bleed.
And then, Jungkook’s face swam in your memories, remembering how you bumped into him. You remember losing your balance, but he caught you just before you fell backwards and almost smashed your head against the nearby desk.
You remember his worried face, and him trying to help you, but you recoiled at his touch and pushed him away. All you knew at that moment was that you didn't want him near you, not anymore.
But then what?
Your head throbbed as you tried to recall. The nosebleed, the dizziness, the world spinning uncontrollably. After that, there was nothing. Just darkness.
Now, here you were, lying in a hospital bed, alive but barely functioning. Your body felt foreign, heavy like lead, and your mind was still clouded with confusion.
You tried to move your fingers, to test if you still had control over your limbs. Slowly, shakily, your fingers twitched, and you exhaled in relief.
Just then, the door creaked open, and a nurse entered the room. She smiled gently as she approached the bed, clipboard in hand.
“You're awake,” the nurse said with a soothing voice.
“How are you feeling?” she then asked.
You swallowed, feeling your throat dry and scratchy. “Weak,” you managed to croak out.
“As expected, your blood pressure was very high” she sighed, “have you been eating and drinking well?” she then questioned.
The question lingered in the air, and you didn’t respond. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
What were you supposed to say? That you hadn’t cared enough to take care of yourself? That food felt like an unnecessary burden? That since the breakup, you had barely had the will to get out of bed most days, let alone nourish your body?
The silence stretched, uncomfortable but truthful.
The nurse waited for a moment, her expression softening as if she could sense your unspoken troubles. “It's important to take care of yourself, you know. Your body needs it so you can function” she told you.
You nodded again, still silent.
How could you explain that your mind had become your worst enemy in the past few months? Ever since the breakup, your life had unraveled in a slow, agonising way.
At first, it was just the small things — forgetting meals, skipping showers, neglecting your apartment. But then it grew worse. Days would go by where you wouldn’t eat anything at all, surviving on coffee and maybe a piece of toast if you could stomach it.
You had lost weight, felt your energy drain away, but none of it seemed to matter. There was a hollowness inside you, and you didn’t know how to fill it.
Yet, despite your own self-destructive spiral, there were moments of light. Minhee and Mingyu had refused to let you drown. They showed up, even when you ignored their calls.
They dragged you out of bed when you had no will to move. It was their gentle yet firm hands that had begun to pull you back from the edge, slowly helping you to rebuild your routines, though the pain of the heartbreak still lingered.
When the nurse left the room, you stared at the ceiling again, your mind replaying the last few months in pieces. The pain of the breakup still lingered, but you knew you couldn’t live like this forever.
The first step to healing was acceptance.
You had to accept that you had to continue your life without Jungkook.
He loved someone else, and was now married — you had to accept that. You had to accept that he was no longer part of your life, that he wasn’t the soulmate the universe had made for you.
Your thoughts were interrupted when the door opened again. With your vision now more steady and clearer, you turned your head towards the door.
Minhee and Mingyu.
“Y/n” Minhee gasped, rushing to your bedside. Mingyu wasn’t far behind, his eyes already glassy with tears. They moved as if they had been holding their breath for hours, waiting for this moment.
You watched the way their faces flooded with relief seeing you awake. As they both sped towards you, you noticed that Mingyu’s eyes were red and puffy, like he had been crying for hours. His bright and easygoing demeanour was nowhere to be found. Minhee on the other looked equally worn. Dark circles marred her eyes, her face pale and drawn like she hadn’t slept all night.
“Oh my god, you’re awake” Minhee whispered as she reached you.
“Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? You scared the hell out of us” she said, her voice breaking. All you could do was give her a weak hum, your eyes giving her a silent apology.
Mingyu stood on the other side of you, his hand hovering over yours as if he wasn’t sure whether he should touch you or not. His eyes, still bloodshot, were filled with a sadness that tugged your heart.
“Are you feeling okay now?” he asked, trying his best not to break down.
You turned to him and gave him a gentle smile before nodding, “I’m fine Gyu” you told him.
Silence engulfed the room for a minute or two, until he broke it. “You scared the hell out of me,” he choked out. His usual calm composure was slowly crumbling, and it was clear from the way his shoulders trembled.
“I—” his voice broke, and he took a step back, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain some control over his emotions. “I thought something happened to you” he breathed out.
Your eyes softened in guilt. You scared him — really scared him. “I’m sorry” you said with your hoarse voice.
You reached out and grabbed his hand, your fingers cold against his warmth. “I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, but I'm fine now, really” you reassured him.
You swallowed hard, feeling your chest tighten. You sat up slowly though your muscles protested the movement, but you pushed through the discomfort.
Mingyu saw you struggle, and quickly moved to help you sit up. “Hey, take it easy” he said softly.
“I’m fine,” you lied, managing to prop yourself up with a pillow behind your back. But the truth was, you felt anything but fine. Your body was weak and your head was still spinning.
“How long have I been here?” you then asked.
“It’s almost 8a.m. right now, so you’ve been out since 4p.m. yesterday” Mingyu replied.
Your eyes widened. That was almost twenty hours. But it felt like you had blinked and woken up in a different reality. “Fuck” you mumbled under your breath.
“It’s okay though, you needed that long rest” Minhee said, patting your shoulder.
“I know, I just…” you sighed, trailing off.
“You have to start taking care of yourself more Y/n. I know you’re trying but, we don’t want to see you in this condition again” she worriedly said, taking your hand in hers.
“Okay nurse” you weakly chuckled, trying to lighten up the dull mood in the room.
Minhee couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I’m being serious Y/n” she deadpanned, shutting you up almost instantly.
“I know, I know. I’ll do better, I promise” you told her.
“We just care about you Y/n, a lot. We just don’t want you to lose yourself in the dark when you have us to support you” Mingyu spoke up.
You weren’t used to being vulnerable, but maybe that was what you needed most right now — to let yourself be vulnerable, to lean on the people who loved you instead of carrying the weight of everything alone. You realised that if you were ever going to heal, you couldn’t do it alone. You needed your friends, the people who had always been there for you.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” you whimpered. You were grateful for them, truly, and you couldn’t imagine your life if they weren’t your best friends.
“You don’t have to find out,” Minhee replied with a smile. “We’re here. Always” she said.
“Thank you” you sniffed, wiping your eyes.
It wasn’t until one of the nurses came in to give you your breakfast that interrupted your conversation. For a moment your attention went to the tray of food that sat on the table next to you. The bland, unappetizing smell was enough to make your stomach turn.
“I can’t believe they expect you to eat this stuff,” Mingyu said, wrinkling his nose. “It looks like it was left out overnight”.
He knew you too well.
You chuckled weakly, “I know. I was hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as it looks, but I’ve been too scared to even try it. Honestly, I think I’d rather starve” you frowned, eyeing the meal with distaste.
Minhee chuckled softly, “yeah, hospital food is notoriously bad” she said.
“Say no more,” Mingyu replied, standing up with a grin. “I’ll head to the canteen and get you something edible. Anything in particular you’re craving?” he asked.
Your eyes lit up, and you smiled at him gratefully. “Anything that doesn’t look like…that,” you said, pointing to the tray. “I trust your judgment”.
Mingyu gave a mock salute. “One gourmet meal coming up” he winked at you and waved to Minhee as he walked out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.
“Such a goofball” Minhee giggled, and you couldn’t agree more.
You and Minhee talked amongst each other for a while. And after a few minutes, the door swung open, and Mingyu reappeared with a grin on his face. He held up a brown paper bag and a bottled drink, stepping toward your bed like a hero returning from a quest.
“Ladies, I have returned bearing gifts,” he announced.
You sat up a little with a flicker of anticipation crossing your face. “Please tell me it’s not worse than the hospital food” you looked at him.
Mingyu pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich and a small side salad. “I bring you a chicken Caesar sandwich and the finest salad this hospital has to offer”. He placed the meal on the table beside your bed, along with a bottle of iced tea.
You eyed the food with cautious excitement, “you really outdid yourself Gyu. I actually think this is…edible” you said.
Mingyu feigned a bow, “my culinary expertise knows no bounds” he said with a proud smile on his face.
Minhee smiled as you gingerly unwrapped the sandwich and took a tentative bite. You chewed thoughtfully before nodding, “okay, not bad. Definitely better than whatever they served me over there” you spoke out. You had no idea what exactly it was but it was certainly not appetising at all and you’d rather starve than eat that.
The three of you then continued to talk for what felt like hours, catching up with things that you had missed while you were out cold, or of random topics that Minhee and Mingyu forgot to talk to you about.
But there was an elephant in the room, a subject none of you wanted to touch: Jungkook. It was almost laughable how carefully you all danced around the subject, considering how central he had been in your life for so long. Although, you were kind of grateful that they didn’t bring him up. The thoughts of him for the past few months had caused you enough heartbreak.
┄┄┄┄┄
Jungkook walked into the house and closed the front door behind him with a soft but heavy thud. The faint light in the hallway illuminated his furrowed brow and the dark circles forming beneath his eyes.
His heart was still pounding, and it wasn’t just from the hurried drive home. His mind was racing, entangled in a mess of emotions that he couldn’t easily shake.
He was only supposed to a business meeting, expecting nothing more than the usual pleasantries and discussions about growth strategies with his collaborator. But the moment he saw you, his entire world had tilted on its axis.
You weren’t supposed to be there. Or at least, he didn’t expect you to work at his collaborator’s company.
The image of your pale, bloodied face was burned into his memory. The soft thud of your body against his chest had sent his protective instincts into overdrive. He had acted out of reflex, cradling you, trying to call for help.
But before he could do anything, Mingyu had rushed over, his eyes blazing with anger and disgust.
His heart clenched again at the memory of that moment. He had wanted to stay, to make sure you were alright, but the hostility in Mingyu’s eyes had left him feeling powerless and ashamed. He knew he lost the right.
He loosened the tie around his neck with shaking hands, pulling it off and throwing it onto the couch. His skin felt too tight, like his clothes were suffocating him.
He stood in the middle of his living room with panic that had followed him home. His mind swirled with questions: Were you alright? Was it something serious?
He barely noticed Aera watching him from the other side of the room, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin, angry line. He was too caught up in his unrest to sense the storm brewing in her.
But she saw everything — the tension in his shoulders, the worry etched into his features, the way his hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair. It was all too obvious.
And she hated it.
She had been there, too. She had seen you collapse. She had seen the way he reacted, how he had rushed to catch you as if some instinct still bound you both together. And she had seen something in his eyes that had made her stomach turn. It wasn’t just concern. It was something deeper, something she thought she had banished from his heart long ago.
Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Aera stepped forward, her voice cold, tinged with a bitterness that she could no longer suppress.
“Why are you so worked up about her? You broke up with her, remember?” she snapped.
Her words cut through the air like a knife, and he stopped mid-stride, his body freezing as if struck by a blow. Slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes dark with something raw — anger, regret, pain — all bundled together, swirling dangerously beneath the surface.
Aera recoiled slightly, startled by the intensity of his glare. She had expected guilt, perhaps even an apology for how distracted he had been the entire evening, but not this. Not pure, unfiltered rage.
And when he spoke, his voice was hoarse, almost a growl.
“Of course I remember,” he spat, his voice low, trembling with barely contained fury. “It’s not like I had a choice, did I?” he glared at her, slowly taking a step towards her.
“What do you mean?” she frowned, instinctively taking a step back, “you ended it with her, you chose me” she reminded.
He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound escaping his throat as he raked a hand through his hair, the strands standing on end with the force of his agitation.
“Chose you?” he repeated, his voice louder now, almost incredulous. “I didn’t choose anything. You think I wanted to end things with her?” he questioned rhetorically.
Aera’s breath caught, her stomach knotting as the room seemed to tilt for a moment. She had never heard him speak like this before, about you, or anything related to either of your past.
His words were barbed, tinged with a depth of emotion she hadn’t anticipated. Her jealousy flared anew, but now it was mingled with something else — fear.
“What are you talking about Jungkook?” she whispered, her eyes searching for him.
“Oh please!” he snapped, raising his voice.
“Quit acting like you don’t fucking know anything!” he yelled, letting his pent up anger finally blow up.
“This is all because of you! You and your fucking family!”
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sturniqlo · 4 months ago
Text
The Move- M.S
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summary: y/n and matt, once former classmates, reunite when both of them move down the street from each other and become closer than ever
cw: cursing, mention of underage drinking(main characters are 18!) , SMUT; car sex, unprotected p in v, making out, hickies, oral!f!receiving, cream pie
an: thank you so much for 1000 followers??! HELLO?! i love every. single. one. of. you.💋💋
masterlist | join my taglist
-----------------------------------------------
"I'm moving to Springville in the summer." Y/n tells her best friend. "What? Really?" Her best friend cries. "Yeah, my parents found a really good deal on a house over there. I'm leaving after graduation." She frowns, trying to not let the tears out. Her and Steph have been friends for over thirteen years.
"Hey, don't make me cry." Y/n tries to smile to lighten up the mood. "At least we have a couple of months left together." Springville was about two and a half away from where they currently live. "And- and we can drive back and forth to meet each other!" Y/n wipes her best friends' tears away.
"Okay, okay you're right! No crying! We still have a couple of months." Steph repeats Y/ns' words. "Let's go get milkshakes and fries." Y/n suggests, they love going to their local diner and getting their usual vanilla milkshake and a basket of fries. Ever since they turned eighteen, their parents granted them permission to drive alone and they've been driving everywhere together any chance they could.
"Good idea."
The next day at school, the word spread around their friend group and distant friends that Y/n would be moving in the summer. "Y/n, we're going to miss you!" "Y/n don't go!" "What? Are you serious?!" Were phrases she heard all day. At lunch, she stood up to go to the bathroom and she ran into one of her other friends.
"Hey, Y/n. I heard you're moving to Springville this summer. My friend Matt is also moving over there this summer. You know Matt, right? He's one of the triplets." The girl dried her hands on a paper towel. "Really? And yeah, I know of Matt. He's the one we have third period with?" Y/n makes sure she doesn't mix the triplets up. She's talked to Matt here and there, however she's 'closer' with Nick due to the fact that they have and have had a lot of periods together over the past four years. As for Chris, she's had at least five conversations with him. "Yeah! That's him! You two should hangout when you settle in!" Y/n nods. "Totally!"
When they get out the bathroom, they go their separate ways. Y/n texted her friend group that she wouldn't be returning to lunch due to having to head to the office for some paperwork. Which was a lie, she just wanted a break from socializing so she headed to the library.
It was now summer and it had been a couple of days since Y/n had graduated. Y/n and her parents were packing up their belongings into the moving trucks. "I'll miss you so much! Promise we'll try to hang out as much as we can?" Steph hugs her tightly now that they had finished moving Y/n's boxes into the truck. "I promise, I'll miss you so much too." She rocks them side to side. "Y/n, it's time to go." Her mom comes up, from saying goodbye to Steph's parents, and puts a hand on Y/n's shoulder.
"I'll try to come and visit you within the next few weeks okay?" Steph pulls away from the hug and Y/n nods. "Bye, Steph." "Bye, Y/n." Steph gives one last hug to Y/n before stepping to where her parents are standing. "We'll see you there, Mr.Y/l/n." One of the movers tells Y/n's dad before getting in the truck and backing out of the driveway.
"Y/n, honey, we're leaving in ten." Y/n and her parents have been in their new house for about seven hours now and they were going to head to dinner since they hadn't gone grocery shopping yet. "Coming!" She finishes putting her bedsheets on her bed. Once she finishes, she rummages through the many boxes of clothes and picks out a simple outfit. "I'm ready." She says, coming down the stairs. "You got some stuff done?" Her mom asks, looking through her purse.
Y/n had been working on her room for about an hour because she was helping her parents unpack the living room and kitchen. "A bit, just need to hang my clothes up and fix my vanity." Her dad comes into view. "Garage is all set, let's go eat dinner. I'm starving." He grabs the car keys from his pocket.
"Oh look, another family is moving in." Y/n's dad slows the car down as they drive past the house with many boxes outside. "Maybe we can welcome them." Her mom says from the front seat. "We look like some stalkers just stopped in front of the house." Y/n giggles.
The next week, Y/n had luckily made some friends while she was out shopping. When she had gotten home from hanging out with them for the first time, she got many new friend requests from unknown people. omg! do any of you guys know any of these people? lol Y/n sends a screenshot to the group chat of the thirty new requests. yes accept them!! we went to school with them, the boy group is hosting a party on saturday you HAVE to come with us!!! One of her new friends types back. really? i'm down!! She replies.
Once she accepts and follow the people back, many stories pop up on her feed. Clicking on someone named Easton, a picture of a table full of food pops up, the next one is a quick video and it pans to a group of boys, in the corner she spots Matt. Holding down on the video, she makes sure it's him and suddenly remembers that Matt also moved down to Springville.
"Should I dm him?" She whispers to herself. Going to her following, she searches Matt's name up and clicks on his profile. She goes to click message, but then decides to press the following button to unfollow him. Waiting a couple of seconds, she follows him again, hoping to get a dm from him. As much as she wanted to text him, she didn't want to make the first move.
Y/n turns off her phone and places it face down on her chest, looking up at her light bulbs. Soon, her eyes start to closes but she feels her phone buzz on her chest. She grabs her phone and sees a dm from Matt.
matt.sturniolo
hi y/n :))
y/n/y/l/n
hi matt!!
matt.sturniolo
i heard you moved down to springville a couple of weeks ago
y/n/y/l/n
yeahh i did
i also heard you did too
matt.sturniolo
yeah, i've been here for a couple of weeks now, we should hangout sometime
my friends are throwing a party on saturday i could pick you up if you want?
y/n/y/l/n
oh yeah, my friends told me about that party.
sure, it seven a good time?
matt.sturniolo
alright! send me your address
y/n/y/l/n
it's 123 Vine St
matt.sturniolo
no way?? you're down the street from me. i'm 129
y/n/y/l/n
really?? what a coincidence lmao
They eventually exchanged numbers and texted for the next hour or so. That night, Y/n fell asleep with a smile on her face. Both Y/n and Matt had never really talked throughout high school even though they had mutual friends.
Saturday came fairly quickly. Y/n had started working at a restaurant as a hostess and she had just came back from her shift. "Are you still going to that party?" Her mom says. "Yeah, remember Matt? He's one of the triplets." Her mom nods. "He's picking me up, I found out he lives in that one house we saw when we moved in."
Y/n was now getting ready, she was finishing her makeup up when she got a message from Matt.
matt
hi are you almost ready?
y/n
yeah, just finishing my makeup
i can walk to your house if you want me to
matt
no, it's fine i can pick you up
y/n
alright, thank you :))
Five minutes later, she heard a beep outside her house. "I'll be back later." She tells her mom before exiting the house. "Hi, Matt." She says as she gets in the passenger seat. "Hi, Y/n. You look nice." Y/n blushes. "Thanks, so do you." Now it's Matt's turn to blush. "Your brothers aren't coming?" Y/n asks as she doesn't see the two other guys. "They decided to stay in. They said they aren't ready for their first Springville party, whatever that means." They giggle.
"So, how do you feel about moving down here?" Matt spins the steering wheel to get out of their neighborhood. "It's okay, I miss my friends back home. Especially Steph, you know her?" Matt nods. "She's the one who has purple highlights, right?" Y/n hums. "Yeah that's her. How about you? You like it here?" Y/n asks. "I love it actually, I like how it's a smaller city. My brothers are having a hard time with it though."
Once Matt finds a parking spot. They hop out the car and make their way to the house that's blasting music. "Y/n! Hey!" They both turn around and see Y/n's friends making their way to them. "Hey girls!" The three girls smile at Y/n and then look at Matt who is standing next to her. "Who's this?"
"Oh, this is Matt, we went to high school together!" Matt does a small wave. "Awe, you drove two hours to come see Y/n, how sweet." One girl says. "O-oh I- uh I moved here the same time she did." He chuckles. "Hey, Matt!" They hear a distant voice from behind. Matt turns around and sees his friend calling him over. "I'll see you inside?" Y/n nods. "Yeah!" As Matt walks away, her friends gasp. "Y/n! You didn't tell us you had a boyfriend!" Her face turns red as they continue to walk again.
"Matt's not my boyfriend! We just started talking." She shrugs. "Oh, so you two are talking talking." One smirks. "What?! I don't know? Yes- no! We're not. Just- we're talking as friends." She states. "That's what they all say." Her friends then tell her how bad of a driver their uber was.
"Hey, sorry I haven't been with you." Matt touches her waist to make himself know to her. "It's fine." She turns around and smiles at him. "My friends wanted me to keep track of their beer pong score since I'm probably the only one sober here." He laughs. "That makes two of us." Y/n takes a drink of her water bottle. "Wanna go outside? It's a bit stuffy in here." Y/n nods and Matt grabs her hands and leads her outside.
On the way outside, her friends spot her and give her a thumbs up and she rolls her eyes jokingly. "Holy shit, it's so much better out here." Matt feels the fresh air hit him. "I agree." They both find an empty bench in the backyard and decide to sit there.
"I can't believe we've never hung out during high school." Matt says, looking at her. "I cant believe it either. You're actually really fun to be around and talk to." Y/n nods. "So I was boring in high school is what you're trying to say?" Matt raises an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. "No! Of course not!" She laughs. "I'm kidding, I thought you were pretty intimidating, though." He says. "Really? Why'd you think that?" He shrugs. "You always looked so serious, and you never really talked much."
What seemed like hours of talking, Y/n looked at the time and saw it was almost one in the morning. "You ready to go?" Matt asks. "I think so, you?" He nods. "Come on let's go." Matt stands up and holds his hand out for her. "You don't wanna say bye to your friends?" Matt says and she shakes her head. "They left quickly, one of my friends snuck out her house and she got caught so they left."
"Are you hungry? We can go eat somewhere or do you have to be home?" Y/n shakes her head as Matt leaves the parking spot. "We can go eat somewhere."
Matt gets onto the main street and takes Y/n to a 24/7 diner. "Have you been here before?" He asks as he pulls into the parking lot. "Mm-mm," She shakes her head before speaking again. "I've driven by here, but I've never eaten here." Matt parks and turns off the car. "It's really good, probably one of my favorite places here." Before he gets out the car Y/n asks him a question. "Hey, Matt. Do you happen to have a sweater or something? I don't want to go in wearing this." She motions down to her see through shirt.
"I think I do." He closes the driver door and opens the back door, Y/n gets out the passenger door and meets Matt where he's at. "Here you go." He hands her a plain black hoodie. "Thanks." She grabs it from him and puts it on. "Let's go." He nods his head towards the diner.
"Hi, welcome to Rubys." The hostess greets them, a nice middle aged lady. "Hello, for two, please." Matt speaks next to Y/n. "Of course," She grabs two menus. "Right this way." She signals them to follow her. "Thank you." Y/n says as they sit down and the lady lets them know she'll be back to take their orders. "Are you hungry hungry or hungry?" Y/n giggles and opens up the menu. "I'm hungry. We can share a meal if you want." He smiles at her.
"Chicken tenders and fries?" Y/n raises an eyebrow, smiling. "Sounds good!" When the waitress comes back, they order their shared meal, and order their own milkshakes. "And- sorry, I'm getting a call." Matt is interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. "What Chris?" He says impatiently, wanting to go back and talk to Y/n. "Where are you?" Chris says. "I'm at Rubys with Y/n." He replies. "Ouu, a date." Matt scoffs at Chris' teasing. "No, stop it." He mutters. "Can you bring me and Nick some food? We'll pay you." Chris asks. "Alright, I have to go, bye." Matt hangs up, already knowing their order. "Sorry, they wanted some food." He laughs. "It's fine." She giggles.
Matt was now dropping off Y/n, parked in front of her fence. "Thank you for tonight, Matt. I had fun." She says, grabbing her purse. "Me too, I'll see you around?" Y/n nods. "Oh! Here, your sweater." As she goes to take it off Matt stops her. "It's okay, you can keep it." He smiles. "You sure?" She says. "Of course."
"Thanks." She leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek. "See you around."
It was a week after the party, and both Matt and Y/n have been texting every hour of everyday ever since that night. "So are you two talking or what?" Nick asks his brother. "I guess you could put it that way." He tries his hardest not to blush. "Look at him! He's blushing!" Chris teases, pointing at Matt. "Leave him alone!"
Nighttime came around and Matt was antsy to see her. do you wanna go driving? He types and sends it to her. just me n you. He adds on. i would love to. Matt smile at her text before replying back. pick you up in three ;)
Matt throws on a hoodie and grabs his keys, heading out of his room. "Where are you going at," Nick says from the couch in the living room, looking at his phone. "ten fifty two pm?" He adds. "I'm going on a drive with Y/n."
I'm here. Matt sends Y/n a message instead of beeping, knowing half of the block is probably in bed by now. Going! She quickly replies back. Matt looks at Y/ns' house and sees the front porch light turn on and then the front door opening seconds later with Y/n coming out.
Y/n quickly makes her way to his car. "Hi, Matt." Y/n leans over the center console and kisses his cheek. "Hi, Y/n." He kisses her cheek quickly after. "Wanna go to the convenience store and get some snacks?" He asks, looking over at her before looking back at the road. "Yeah, I could go for some chips right now." She agrees.
After their quick trip to the store Matt finds an empty parking lot and parks the car. As they finished their snack, they washed it down with their drinks. "I-" "So," They say at the same time and they giggle. "You can go." Y/n says. "I- I wanted to tell you that I'm really enjoying our time together." Y/n's mouth opens a bit in shock. "Oh, Matt, I-" Matt can't really read her expression. "Shit! I'm sorry did I ruin it? Fuck, I should've never-" He gets cut off by Y/n smashing her lips against his.
It takes Matt a few seconds to realize what's happening before he moves his lips against hers. The kiss gets heated by the second and before they know it, Y/n is on his lap. Unfortunately, they get interrupted by Y/n's ass pressing up against the horn startling them. "Oh shit!" They say in unison and laugh with their foreheads pressed against one anothers.
Matt rubs his hands over her waist. "Wanna meet me in the back seat?" He presses a wet kiss over her jaw, sucking lightly. "I thought you'd never ask." She leans down and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. She gets off of his lap and crawls into the back seat. Matt steps out the car and opens the back seat dooor climbing in and immediately grabbing Y/n by her waist and pulling her to his lap and kissing her all over again.
"I've been wanting to do this ever since the party." He says in between breathes. "Really?" She smiles against his lips. "Mhm, looked so fucking sexy in your little outfit." He squeezes her ass. Y/n rocks her hips against his, feeling his bulge against her thin shorts that are riding up her thighs.
After minutes of rocking against each other, Matt lays Y/n against the seat and hovers over her, kissing over her neck. "Can I take this off, baby?" He tugs at the end of her oversized tee. "Please." She whines. Matt brings her shirt up and Y/n lifts up a bit so he can remove it. The chilly air makes her nipples harden and Matt groans.
"No bra?" He goes to suck on her nipple, kneading her tit in his other hand. "Fuck, Matt." She gasps, arching her back. "You like that, babe?" He hums, nibbling on the bud. "Yes, fucking love it." She kneads her hand through his hair. Matt pulls away for a second and Y/n could almost whine from the loss of contact. He pulls his hoodie off and throws it in the front seat with Y/n's shirt.
"Can I take these off as well?" Matt's hand comes down to the waistband of her skimpy shorts. "Yes, yes, take them off." She nods, lifting her hips and Matt pulls them down her legs and is met with her white cotton thong. Matt gives her a look and Y/n nods. He hooks a finger through her thong and removes them swiftly. Matt looks down and sees her cunt glistening. "So wet already." He growls at the sight before diving down getting a taste of her.
"Oh, Matt." She sighs in pleasure as he sucks on her clit, slurping her juices. The sounds coming from her are going straight to his cock. "Fuck- get- get up here." Y/n pulls Matt up to her and kisses him harshly. "Please, Matt." She whines against his lips. "What do you want, baby. Hm, I don't know what you want unless you tell me." He kisses down her jaw, to her neck, sucking on the soft skin there leaving red and purple marks. "I want you to fuck me, Matt." She runs her hands down his front and stops when she reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.
"Yeah, want me to stuff you with my cock?" He lowers his sweatpants, along with his boxers, his dick springs up slapping against his lower belly. "Yes, want to be full of your cock." She reaches for his erection and holds him in her hands. Slowing moving her hands up and down. "Fuck, baby." He rolls his hips against her hold. "Wait, wanna cum in you." He stops and brings his dick over her pussy, running the tip up and down, gathering her arousal.
"Ready?" He asks, looking down at her. "Yes, give it to me, Matt." Matt brings his tip to her leaking hole and slowly pushes in. "Oh- fuck!" He groans, feeling the tightness of her pussy wrap around him. "Matt, you feel so good." She moans, feeling him balls deep in her. "Shit! You like being stuffed with my cock don't you, baby." He starts to thrust his hips in and out of her. "Just like that, shit!" Y/n brings her hands up her body and squeezes her tit adding on to the pleasure.
"Holy fuck- keep squeezing me like that." Matt brings two of his fingers to her mouth and makes her suck on them, getting them wet, before taking them out and bringing those fingers down to rub her clit. "Mmph, so so good." She whines scratching her nails down his back. "I'm close, can I cum in you, baby. Cum in this tight little pussy?" He kisses her neck over the marks. "Yes, cum in me. I'm so fucking close." She cries as Matt hits that one spot deep in her.
A couple more thrust in her, Matt stills his movements and cums in her. "I'm cumming, shit baby." He burries his face in her warm neck. "Me too, fuck!" Y/n says heavily, running a hand through Matt's hair at the nape of his neck. "That was- that was amazing." Matt laughs in her neck. "I agree." She giggles.
"Let me clean you up." He untucks his face from her neck and places a kiss on her lips before getting up and slowly pulls his dick out. "Fuck." Matt says lowly as he sees a mix of her and his cum dripping out her hole. Matt spots one of his shirts from the other day draped over the backseat headrest and uses that to clean her up. "Oh!" She hisses. "Sorry, baby." He whispers.
"All done." He throws the shirt on the floor and leans over to get her discarded clothes. "Here you go." He hands them to her. "Thank you." Matt pulls his boxers and sweatpants and grabs his hoodie. "I should take you home then?" Matt grabs her and pulls her onto his lap. "Mhm." She hums before kissing him.
"Get in the front seat."
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yoursweetwife · 10 months ago
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Synopsis: you were sure of the excellence of your cooking, and you didn't want to throw it away due to lack of hunger, so you decided to feed the Ratio.
Warning: the reader is an excellent cook, fluff, friends to lovers, professor!reader, I'm sure that Ratio hates cooking, I won't change my mind.
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There are three things that most infuriate Ratio.
Idiots.
When his phone is bursting with calls and messages.
Cooking.
It's not that Veritas doesn't know how to cook, he knows a couple of recipes, is smart enough not to burn down the kitchen, the cooking process itself irritates him.
However, too often the Ratio instead of the usual dinner or breakfast drinks a cup of coffee or eats a hastily prepared salad. Even at work, he rarely took a lunch break and locked himself in his office, the food in the dining room did not attract him at all, so attempts by other colleagues to invite him to have lunch together were ignored.
On one of those days, you decided to go up to him and treat him to your food. You didn't have an appetite today, and you don't want to just leave one of the best dishes you've ever cooked.
When everyone left for lunch, you walked into his classroom and briskly walked up to the workplace of Ratio.
At the sight of you, the scientist stopped putting things away and looked at you.
Because of the plaster mask, you couldn't see his expression, but you can tell from his friendly voice that he doesn't mind your presence.After all, you are one of the few whose mind Veritas has recognized as almost equal to his own. It became a catalyst for your friendship.
"Professor [Surname], what brings you to me? You usually have lunch with other people at this time."
He sat down on the chair again, holding the book in his hands, waiting for the moment when he could open it.
"Enough of these formalities, we're alone," a smile lit up your face and you quickly groped for the food container in your hands. - and about lunch..."
You held out the box and looked expectantly at Ratio, who didn't even move.
"I'm not hungry today, so I want to give this to you."
"So give it to someone else."
You puffed out your cheeks and made the saddest look, trying to convince Veritas. At such moments, he did not understand what he found interesting in your childish behavior. Nevertheless, he was attracted to it.
"I want you to try it. I swear, it's very tasty and healthy! Ratio, you won't regret it."
The scientist sighed in amazement and put the book aside. No matter how strong his desire to refuse, it was pointless to resist you.
"So be it, I'll try it."
You smiled gratefully and held out your hands to Veritas. When Ratio's hands touched yours, he couldn't help but feel the warmth from them.
"Fantastic, then you can share your impressions. - you looked at your watch and exclaimed in amazement. "Oh no, I still have to prepare for the lesson!"
Waving goodbye, you left his office, leaving Ratio alone with your "gift".
The smell of freshly cooked food filled the empty room as if it had been cooked just today.
Even the plaster head couldn't stop the smell from spreading through his body.
It looked and smelled just great, for such a clumsy person like you, such filigree and neatness was just incredible.
Ratio winces at the memory of your workplace. He still doesn't understand how you can sort out all those papers and appliances on your desk.
"You can't tell the quality of food by the smell alone."
Soon the mask was left on the table, next to documents, books and tests for students.
The first piece and...
The soft texture of the meat began to delight his taste buds from the very first minutes. The golden eyes widened with an all-encompassing sense of pleasure.
It was the most delicious meal he had eaten in a while. His pride won't allow him to admit it out loud, no, admit to himself that he doesn't mind eating it every day.
Ratio didn't even notice how empty the container was. He mentally scolded himself for his lack of restraint and pushed the container aside.
His eyes ran over the lines of the book, reading the text, but his thoughts were about something else, the students should come soon, which means that he has very little time.
A smile formed on Veritas' face. Perhaps he should also be hinted that he doesn't mind at all if you bring him your cooking every day.
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soleilapproves · 1 month ago
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This is part 2 of the arranged marriage AU with Nanami where the two of you struggle with intimacy.
Part 3
You both learn to cuddle in this one. This is a bit long so grab some snacks and a warm blanket.
Masterlist
-•-
After that fateful night of receiving flowers from your husband (personally and not through his family for a proposal), you had start warming up to him. You found out that he enjoyed mundane things like reading, walking at the beach, and most of all, bread. He learned about a lot of your likes and dislikes too.
Gradually, you found that it was easier to make conversation with him while having dinner so the two of you started having all your meals together. You’d talk about your work and what unruly things your coworkers did to cross you and he’d add in his two cents about them being incompetent. The relationship started to feel more friendly. He was glad his wife was talking to him about something other than the weather!
He also had a new desk moved into his study so you could work alongside him rather than stay holed up in your room. Your desk was adjacent to his (so he could look up to stare at you whenever he wanted).
He started noticing all the little things about you, like the way you liked doing your hair, your favorite spot on the couch, what kind of music you’d hum while doing chores. He was slowly chipping away at the ice and was enjoying every minute of it.
To be loved is to be known. He didn’t know how to show you that he was becoming more and more interested in you without displaying physical touch or being afraid of saying something that you may not be comfortable with. So he’d buy you gifts and try to spend time with you as much as possible. His gifts would be simple yet meaningful, like a record player for your room so you could listen to all your favorite tunes and pilates equipment for your home gym because you had been talking about how you wanted to work out but without leaving the house.
Your heart wasn’t letting you rest either. You started making him lunch for work and would write random notes along with it. It could be a fun fact or a simple motivational message. He would always thank you for them (and save them in a little box he has in his office). Sometimes he’d ask you more about the fact and how you learned about it.
Everything felt stable. It was like living with a best friend.
Until one day, you both were sitting next to each other while watching a horror movie. Separate blankets of course, but you were close enough for your knees to touch while sitting criss cross. A particularly scary scene came up and you jumped, holding on to the sleeve of Nanami’s sweater. He was alarmed, not because you screamed in fear but because you held on to him for comfort! “Can I hold your bicep? I’m sorry, this is just a little too scary.”
He could simply nod. No words or thoughts could form when he felt the warmth of your body against his arm. Your breath would occasionally land on his chest from how you were unintentionally leaning on him and it was driving him insane. Normally things like this would give him sensory overload but with you? Gosh, was it a good feeling. He always thought that that men who bragged about being protective were strange and were trying to prove themselves for no reason but they weren’t wrong. Knowing that you felt safe with him made him feel like a true man. Like he could run into the sunset and scream his lungs out.
After the movie was over you were still shaken up. “Is everything alright?” He looked down at you. You still had his arm in your grip. “Um, no, I’m still a little freaked out from the movie which is weird cause I’m a grown adult. Why am I scared of such movies anyway?” You smack your hand on your forehead. “It’s alright. It was a little too scary than what I’m used to as well.” He then paused, as if, he wanted to say something but he couldn’t. You looked up at him expectantly. “Since you’re scared, would you… like to sleep in my room? And I’m saying this in the most respectful way possible.” He sheepishly smiled as he asked.
Sleep? In the same bed as Nanami? Scratch that, sleep in the same bed as your HUSBAND? Of course, especially when he has been so sweet with flowers, gifts, and even comforting you through a strange movie. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” You whispered. You were afraid that if you spoke any louder you’d be breaking your bubble of comfort with him. “Then, I’ll make the necessary preparations.” He immediately gets up to go straighten up his room (and switch on his diffuser).
By necessary preparations, you didn’t know that he meant getting you a separate blanket and having a divider of pillows between the two of you. This was the opposite of what you wanted. You were still scared and needed some sort of physical touch to be reassured that you weren’t going to be harmed.
“Nanami, are you awake?” You whispered into the dimly lit room. The moonlight through the window acted as a natural night lamp. “I’m up. Do you need anything?” He responded swiftly. “No, everything is great except for one thing.” You turn towards him and remove the pillow between your heads so can make eye contact. “When you suggested sleeping in the same bed I thought we’d be holding hands because I’m scared.”
“Oh.” Was all Nanami could muster up. You were tense. Did you ask for too much? Maybe you should’ve asked his permission before requesting for it. Consent is key. But all your thoughts are silenced when Nanami simply grabs your hand and pulls you close. “Th-Thanks.” Your heart was racing a mile a minute. Nothing really happened after that though. Pure silence engulfed the room again, except for the occasional rustling of the sheets while you moved around.
“Y/N?” Your husband broke the silence. You hummed in response. “Do you know how to cuddle?” What an odd request, not unwelcome but definitely strange as Nanami never really initiated any sort of physical touch with you. It was mostly you either accidentally touching him or squeezing his bicep before work. You were too scared to admit that you had never been in a relationship before. What would he think? He’s a handsome man, so there’s no way he had never been in a relationship before. Maybe he never cuddled with his exes. He did tell you that he used to be very particular about his personal space.
“Yeah, I do.” You said, your knowledge from reading romance novels was finally being used. “Can you teach me? You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” But you turned to your side so you could properly face him. You let go of his hand, missing the warmth provided by them. “I’ll teach you an easy one first. It’s called spooning. Since you’re a beginner, I’ll let you be the little spoon and I’ll be the bigger spoon.” Nanami snorted at your description. But obliged. “Alright, what does the little spoon do?”
You then instructed him to turn, making his back face you and then you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your forehead against his back. “So this is what spooning is. I think I’d much rather prefer being the big spoon. I want to be able to protect you from that ghost in the movie.” You giggle at his words and oblige. When his arms wrap around you, it feels as if everything has fallen into place. The world is in order and you both don’t need anyone else but each other.
Nanami is in ultimate peace with you in his arms. The warmth given to him by your body being pressed against him is a feeling like no other. It felt right. Like you two were meant to be all along. His heart raced at the thought of other cuddling positions. However, a sense of jealousy rose in him as he thought about who you might’ve experienced this with first. Alas, he can still make new memories with you so he comforts himself to sleep.
-•-
Reader and Nanami will kiss in the next one I PROMISE 😭
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simpee9000 · 4 months ago
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Not Just Friends - 4 -
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M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Not edited : 3.8k words
Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.
You've spent the past week working through Katsuki's watch. Only putting it down when handed a time restricted request for a support item fix. Testing the quirk removing feature on Mei and a few others around. Since you couldn't remove your own, at least you wouldn't realize until a week or so.
Once all the kinks were worked out, you placed it in a nice sleek black watch box. Tying it closed with a burnt orange ribbon. You were giving it to him as a gift, just like all the other watches you've given him in the past. This one just a lot more expensive and fully designed by you.
It was already Friday by the time the watch was done, completing two days before you said you would.
Friday's were also the days that Katsuki worked at his own agency a couple blocks away. So after getting a cab to his agency, you walked through the door. Instantly being recognized by the security team for the office and being allowed through with only a quick screening, just in case someone was pretending to be you. You smiled at the receptionist, giving a quick wave before you headed to the elevator.
After pushing in the button for the top floor, the floor that only held him and his closest heroes, you opened your phone to check the time. It was right before his lunch started, which meant he would likely be getting out of the showers. He always took a shower after first patrol and once getting home.
The task of looking at your phone made you think of making yourself a watch, maybe with a support item for yourself incase within. Break-ins for support items were getting a lot more common now days and you couldn't be safe enough. With nanotechnology you could probably make an upgraded suit to the one you've made in high school, that shared many similarities to Iron-man's.
Before you could ramble in your own brain about the idea anymore, you reached Katsuki's floor. Stepping out of the elevator and greeting his manger who was sitting just outside Katsuki's office in his own desk.
"How's your day so far, Tanaka?" you smiled at him.
He looked up at you, "I work with Dynamight," he said plainly and looked back down to his monitor. He reminded you of Shoto that way. Blunt and straight to the point.
You laughed lightly, "Right, he can be a lot." You looked around the office for a moment, "I'm assuming he is still in the showers."
"You'd be correct," his monotone voice would of made you feel stupid if you didn't know him. He's always like this, never changing his tone. He was always one steady mood, it's the main reason Katsuki chose him. Tanaka wouldn't get upset, but rather not take no as an answer. Which Katsuki hated but needed at the same time. It helped his press a lot.
You rocked on your heels for a moment, "Well, I'm going to wait in his office."
"Wait," he paused you, his face slightly paled. He looked stressed.
"What?"
"He told me not to let you in there without him," he answered, face back to normal without the threat of you going in the office.
Your brows furrowed, "Why?"
He shrugged, "Just made it clear to not let you in."
"Okay?" you stood confused on what to do. Kirishima wasn't in the office yet, and neither was Denki or Sero. It was the main reason Katsuki had lunch at this time. "Do you have anything I can help on then?"
He looked at you from over his glasses, "I suppose. Do you think he is more likely to do an interview with Heroes' Gossip or a fan signing at a Hero Expo next week?"
Katsuki hated both those things. Heroes Gossip was exactly that, heroes' gossip, and it got into the nitty gritty details. People who did well on that show were Heroes like Denki and Sero, ones with enough charm to by pass and person questions. Katsuki only went on once, and it was a train wreck, they brought up the details of his childhood with Deku and you. Asking how he felt about the idea of you and Izuku dating. It set him off.
On the other hand, he hated standing or sitting in one area for too long, especially signing things for fans all day long. It was hell on earth for him. He'd have to deal with fan girls trying to grab at him as well as older people criticizing his work.
"I think a Hero Expo might be better, as long as there isn't a hero he hates there and it isn't longer than three hours," you gave your feedback.
"You don't think he's over the last interview?" Tanaka rubbed at his eyes under his glasses.
You hummed, "He likely is, but that doesn't mean that it won't happen again. It'd be another PR nightmare."
"What is?" you looked towards the voice. Giving Katsuki a bright smile.
"Just you," you teased.
"Fuck off," he grumbled, walking past you and to his office door.
"Am I allowed in now?" you stepped alongside him.
Katsuki looked at his manger, giving him rare look of appreciation, and opened his door, "Yeah, Tanaka got food for a us a little bit ago. Should still be warm."
He opened the door for you, letting you walk in first and stepping in behind you, letting the door fall shut.
"What's up with the extra chair?" you pointed towards the chair that sat to the side that matched the one at his desk.
He walked towards the chair, grabbing in at rolling it to sit on the other side of the desk, "Yours, you always fuckin' steal mine."
You flushed at the gift. It was a open invitation into his office. It showed your place next to him. You ran your hand over the top of the chair, spinning it around to see the small details of your favorite color in the stitching. He custom ordered it.
"Thank you," you smiled at him, "You're the best." Finally, you take a seat and rolling it closer to his desk in order to eat. Setting your bag down next to you.
He flushed at the praise. "Tanaka got some of the food you likely from down the street," he pushed a takeout box near you. You instantly opened it, seeing it filled with your favorite order. It was a small sushi bar that you went to often, loving their rolls. Kirishima showed it to you after Fat Gum showed him.
You cracked open a pair of chopsticks that were left on top of the takeout box. Quickly looking to see that he was already digging in, obviously starving from work. "Busy day?" you asked picking up some food and eating a bite.
"Two bank robberies from one group. Pain in my ass," he grumbled, quickly scarfing down more food. After he physically couldn't fit more food in his mouth, he swallowed and drank some water before adding, "Got their asses though."
You nodded along, eating your food at a normal human pace.
"You do anything?" he put picked up another sushi roll in his chopsticks, dipping it in a spicy soy sauce.
The watch in you bag basically burned you with how quickly you remembered about it. Excited to finally give it to him. Before the look could wash over your face, you schooled your features. "Just normal work, Mei blew up some of her new project, so that was something." You were slightly surprised he hasn't brought up his watch to you recently. But you figured it was because his quirk calmed down a little, you haven't seen it act up since Tuesday.
"Isn't she always doing shit like that?" he asked, pointing his chopsticks at you.
"Yeah," you laughed. Looking down at his box you saw he only had two pieces left when he order two full rolls. "God damn vacuum cleaner," you laughed at him.
"Fuck off," Katsuki barked, "I was fucking workin' my ass off today."
"Still, god damn," you often teased him for how fast he eat compare to you. While he was on his last bites, you still had five to go. It wasn't that you were a slow eater, he was just a insane person.
He bit down on the last bites of food. Grumbling and crossing his arms. Proving whatever point he had.
Katsuki went on about his day as you finished up your food, going over how the chase went and what quirks the people had. It was the normal conversation of your lunches. He shared what he could about his job and you did the same.
Once you were done, he grabbed your take-out and threw away your trash. Harshly falling back into his chair, black with orange lining, matching yours.
You looked over his face, idly listening to him go own about his day as you admired him. He had a scar covering the right side of his face. Looking at it too long reminded you of what happened that day. The thought made you want to through up. Quickly, you pinched the fat of your thigh, reminding yourself of the present. You often went into thoughts like these. It was painful but the life of a pro heroes girlfriend.
Rather than dwell on his injury, you looked over the rest of him. His eyes were bright with a fire as he explained how he saved a kid from being buried in cement. You looked over the broad length of his chest, watching it rise with his breathing. Scanning down his arms till you saw his rough fingers drumming across the desk. All the small ways the proved he was alive.
"You good?"
The sudden question knocked you out of thought, you plastered on a smile, "Yeah."
His face scrunched up. before he could call bullshit you moved to reach for your bag.
"I actually brought you something too," you move your hand around your bag before you brought up the watch case. You placed it in the middle of the desk. His face was blank but his eyes were running over the box like crazy. You pushed it towards him when he didn't make a move for it, "Open it."
He glanced up at you, receiving a nod of encouragement, before he grabbed the box. Despite being a rough person, in attitude and everything else, he undid the box as carefully as possible. Sliding the ribbon off and opening the box slowly, as it would shatter.
His hands started shaking at the sight of it. In fear of dropping it, he rushed to place it back on the table. Frantically wiping his hands on his pants.
"Do you like it?" you questioned, worried from his reaction.
"How does it work?" he replied instead, picking it up and putting on his right hand.
Relieved that he liked it enough to immediately wear it, you leaned to point at the watch. "So if you twist this dial to the left one click, then to the right two clicks, and then back to the left for three click, you will have it unlock for identification, " you explained the detailed process. He wanted to make sure that no one else could unlock it and you made sure of it. Even you couldn't activate it once you set passwords in place. "Finally, see how it says 100% that's what your quirk is at right now, so turn it to zero and see how you feel," you sat back in your seat, watching him turn the dial.
He looked like a kid on Christmas as he spun it to 0%, his eyes flicked to you, "So I can try to use my quirk and it won't work?" You nodded.
With the dial at 0% he immediately felt the difference, the constant buzz of his quirk washing away, leaving just the buzz of your presence to warm him. He raised his hand outwards, still weary as he tried to set off his quirk, getting no spark or feeling of it at all. He tested a stronger explosion but received none.
"It fuckin' works," he smiled almost wolfish. You could see the ideas running though his brain at the lack of spark.
He played with the dial a little bit, seeing how the 20% and 40% suppressed his quirk. You glanced at the clock above his desk, seeing your lunch almost up. You'd have to leave soon if you wanted to stay on schedule. "Will this help your quirk training?" you asked, making sure he got what he needed.
"Huh?" he looked down at you from where he was standing and testing his quirk.
"You asked Z' about it for quirk training, that and your quirk's been weird," you filled in the gaps, lost as to how he didn't understand what you were talking about.
He let out a cough followed by a nervous laugh, "Yeah, should work great."
You shot him a look at his odd behavior, picking up your bag and standing to leave.
"What's your plans tonight," he fumbled with his words slightly.
"None?" you hiked the bag better unto your back, grabbing your phone so you could place an uber back to your agency. You didn't have your walking shoes on today. "I was just going to head home and read," you finished answering, "Why?" You quickly finished placing an uber before looking back up at him, confused once again.
His face flushed, " Ramen then? At out favorite spot," he stumbled to add on.
Your face softened. That was your main date spot, only used on highly celebrated dates or anniversaries. "Why there?"
"Just want to have a date with you," he mumbled, face now bright red.
"That happy about the watch? Kats you don't need to take me to dinner, I make you support gear all the time," you stepped closer to him, having been separated by his desk before he stepped around to you as well.
"You wanna go or not?" he huffed, fed up with being embarrassed.
"We don't need to-"
"Do you want to? Cause I want to," he cut you off, he crossed his arms as he leaned into his desk, you standing in front of him.
"Sure," you held back the tease, not wanting to set him off.
"Good, we'll leave home at seven," he pushed off from the desk, walking you out to the door.
You smiled at him, "See you then."
---
The ramen joint was fancy and hidden. Hardly anyone went there if they didn't want extreme privacy. It was something you and Katsuki quickly learned that you needed in your relationship. The public didn't fully know about your relationship, but they did know you two were close and childhood friends. So people speculated off that. So to avoid rumors, Katsuki and you went to hidden gem restaurants.
This ramen joint being a favorite, it was lit purely off candles or warm low lights. It was one of the only, if not the only, romantic restaurants that you two went to. Cozy lights with a dress code of formal.
So the two you walked up to the door, Katsuki offering a hand to help you up the stairs before the restaurant. While your heels and dress didn't make it too difficult, it was nice that it was offered. After grabbing his hand, you expected him to let go at the top of the stairs, but he led you through the restaurant, following the hostess and dragging you along.
Only when at the table he let go. Once the waiter got your drink orders Katsuki fumbled with his hands, "Thanks for the watch."
"Kats, it's nothing," you laughed off, "I've made you many support items, I don't know why you're so happy about this one." His face flushed at the call out. It really confused you, he seemed thrilled that he could turn off his quirk. It was honestly sad. Before you could ask anymore, the waiter gave you your sake and water before taking your food order. The service was great, but annoying for conversation currently.
"Just noticed the detail in this one," he shrugged, "fits me well and shit."
Now he was trying to play it cool? It was all weird.
"Are you sure you're telling me everything?" you accused.
"How was work this week? We spent lunch talkin' 'bout mine," he redirected the conversation.
You shot him another glare at his weird behavior, you'd figure him out eventually. For now you'd have a nice dinner with him.
---
Dinner was just that. Nothing much more. Service was great, so was the food, but conversation was horrible. He dodged any question towards himself, even if it was small. It was all about you and it felt wrong, in a strange way.
The two of you walked the short way back to your apartment. But with looking up at the sky, you regretted that decision. Small water droplets cover the sidewalk slowly. The rain painting it slowly. The streets were empty at only 9pm, you should of taken that as a sign of bad weather. Regardless, the two of you continued walking, him grabbing your hand once out of the restaurant. It was weird, but you let the thought fade at the chance to hold unto him for a little longer.
You swayed in your steps taking up the sidewalk as you stretched your arm to stay linked with Katsuki. He gave you a smile at your behavior. Making you flush and focus more heavily on your step. It reminded you of the romance movies the described this exact situation. A couple walking in the rain, late at night, streets empty as they confessed their love.
Katsuki tugged you towards him, spinning you into his hold, his hand letting go of your and grabbing onto your hips and you leaned into him. Your hands resting on his chest from surprise at the sudden change.
"You got that look on your face again," he smirked down at you. While used to his smile over the years, his smirk still made you weak in the knees.
"Huh?"
"You have a face you make when your thinking on your shitty romance movies," he pointed out.
"I do not," you pouted.
"Yeah it's like this," he scrunched him face to mimic yours horribly.
"Is not," you slapped his chest lightly, "I'd be surprised if you dated me while I made that face."
"Uh huh?" he teased, "cause it was spot on."
You rolled your eyes, face red from being in his hold.
"So what were you thinkin'?" he pushed, squeezing your hips slightly.
"Just all those movies with couples," you dodged until he squeezed again. "Fine, couples kissing in the rain, happy?"
His face flushed, matching the red hue on yours, before he looked up to avoided your stare. You were surprised he was holding you in general, but the fact he hasn't let go truly stunned you. Hugs between you two didn't last longer than a couple seconds. And this was a lot more romantic than a hug.
"Do you wanna?" he looked back down, his eyes tracing over your face between landing on your lips.
"Wh..what?" you stuttered. He looked back up to your eyes.
"Do you want to kiss?" he spelt out for you, face becoming impossibly redder.
"Yeah," you breathed out, looking down to his lips before both your eyes shot to look at each other. Making sure this was okay.
The tension was shooting through your bones. He hasn't offered to kiss since graduation, which was over a year ago.
He pulled his hand away from your waist and up to your face, wiping away the rain that fell on your cheek before he slowly leaned in. You eyes fluttered shut before you felt his lips hit yours. Instantly melting into the new feeling.
Every time before he was either freshly from the hospital or the two of you were excited and let it run you into a kiss that only lasted a moment before you were off running to friends and family during graduation.
Your knees caved slightly, letting you fall even deeper into the kiss, deeper into him, as you tilted your head. The kiss was just like him, explosive. It left you buzzing as he pulled away for a breath.
He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes before breathing out heavily, "I'm sorry we don't do that often enough."
Your once closed eyes shot up, you slightly pushed away from him, "What?"
He furrowed his eyebrows, "I just wish I haven't been holding that out of our relationship."
You pushed yourself out of his hold, stepping back, "Katsuki Bakugo."
"What?" he almost demanded.
"I told you that I was fine without physical touch. I've been fine without it. Yet the second you've found out, you've been weird," you pushed a finger into his chest, "Now your kissing me, saying sorry? How do you think that makes me feel?"
He shook his head, "I don't see the problem."
"Of course you don't," you basically lectured, "Our relationship has been steady. Sure it hasn't been typical, but it's been us. Yet the second someone mentions that I like touch, you've been all weird."
"I want to make you happy? Is that fuckin' horrible?" Katsuki huffed.
You scoff, "No, but you were already making me happy. Now you are doubting our relationship, not telling me about your quirk issues, and worst of all, pushing yourself when I didn't ask. If you aren't ready for things that's fine! If your never ready, that's also fine. I just want you Katsuki. I want the you that doesn't give two fucks about what anyone thinks."
His head hung, his hands coming up to rub at his face. "I don't know how to fuckin' do this shit," he mumbled.
You stepped closer to him, "Just stop worrying about every little thing. I'm with you, you don't have to win me again. Just do what you want and I'll tell you if I have an issue."
"And what if what I want is to kiss you more and other stupid shit," he muttered under his breath.
Your face flamed with the comment, "Well," you cleared you throat, "if that's what you want, then I'd be happy to. But only if it's what you actually want."
"Of fuckin' course it is, why wouldn't I want to kiss my damn girlfriend," his wolfish grin was back quicker than ever as you pulled you into him. Quickly getting over the little spat the two of you just had.
"I don't know, you haven't wanted to before," you shrugged in his hold.
"Oh I've wanted to," he protested.
"Then why haven't you?" you tilted your head.
"Reasons," he took your held tilt as an opening, slotting his lips against yours. You slapped at his shoulder for dodging the question but you quickly moved to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. He hugs you closer as he swayed the two of you in your kiss. Letting the rain soak the two of you to the bone without a second thought. Only worried about the one in front of you. Any worry dripping out of your soul just as the water dripped out of your clothes. Because even though he hated the rain, he loved you more.
-Next Part-
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pedgito · 5 months ago
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𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | Javier Pena x reader
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summary | this is my own entry for the summer lovin' challenge, somehow torturing myself further by writing a fic amongst all my other wips and helping organize this challenge. there's sweaty javi p and office sex, that's all you need to know.
content warning | heavy smut, teasing upon teasing upon teasing, lots of mentions of heat/sweat, perfect use of ice in a situation like this, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, public-ish sex
word count — 5k
You curse quietly over your second paper cut of the day, nursing your pointer finger between your lips and silently reprimanding yourself for agreeing to help Steve—he was good at begging, you could give him that, and a hell of a sweet talker when he wanted to be. He always wore you down, a promise of coffee every day for a week on him, or lunch the following day, anything to sweeten the deal. This time it was neither.
“I rescheduled twice already,” He’s pointed out the reasons on his fingers, extending them out as he numbers them and using his finger to add emphasis as he pressed down on them as he went, “we finally have someone to watch Olivia for us this evening, and you know, you won’t even be alone—Pena’s staying late.”
He wiggled his three fingers like it was the best deal you’ve ever been offered, a smile growing on his face as he attempted to pass over the file that you took with reluctance, blowing out a puff of air and clutching it to your chest, arms crossed over the manila folder as you glance at your dainty watch—four in the afternoon. Not bad. Not great, either. You’ve stayed later—given your commute is only about five minutes. You tended to pick up the slack, for everyone, but mostly those boys. You weren’t sure how it ended up this way, but even Carillo acknowledged it. 
You did grunt work, small and miniscule things in the lives of two DEA agents who were out in the field hunting a notorious cartel leader every day—but you, you were dealing with papercuts and carpal tunnel, it wasn’t nearly as comparable.
And Javier Pena made sure to remind you every chance he had.
You pluck at the group of files labeled La Quica and El Limon, a hefty collection of data that has been compiled for the past several months and felt never ending—you were nearing the point of understanding every piece of information in this room back to front, knowing far too much about the cartel than you originally intended. It was terrifying; even seeing the look on either of the men’s faces when they returned back from a hard day of busts and undercover work.
And, maybe Javier just figured you didn’t care or wouldn’t be able to comprehend half of what was stored away in these files—but he sure wasn’t quiet about it.
It’s been around an hour now, tearing through the unorganized mess that the file room had become.
Mumbling the names under your breath as you drag your finger over the sticky note and kneeling down until your practically on all fours, digging through a box on the floor with your head tucked and oblivious to Javier as he rounds the corner to the secluded room, heavy footsteps falling on deaf ears, too entranced in the task to notice him.
He clears his throat with distinction and your head snaps up, looking clearly disturbed and annoyed—Javier offers a superficial smile and points a finger at the pile on the floor, his shoulder leaned against one of the tall shelves holding boxes upon boxes of crucial information.
Your eyebrows raise in expectation, head shaking slightly at him as you urge him to speak and get on with whatever comment he was dying to make as he continued to stare down, licking his lips briefly before they finally part and—
“Those the files we’ve been asking for?”
That Steve has been asking for—Not Javier, never Javier. He’s too macho and mighty for paperwork and sitting at a desk all day.
“It is part of them,” You say with emphasis, “I still have an entire section to go through. Steve asked me to pull everything we have on those two.”
“Well, everyone’s leaving—and I know where most of the shit is. I got it, you can head out.”
You seethe, jaw clenched and your eyebrow furrows as you stand, a pile of strewn papers in your arms.
“You know, instead of going through Steve to have me fetch the stuff you need—I don’t know, you could just man up and ask me directly.”
He has no idea what you’re talking about.
Except, he does.
He’s shoved off work to Steve who was enough of a pushover for his friend and partner, to pick it up when he had time, but this time it had landed on a busy day, a busy weekend, there just wasn’t enough time for him to handle it. 
“La Quica, El Limon—Carillo was talking to you about them this morning. What’s got you so tied up that you couldn’t handle it yourself?” You ask accusatory, back turned to him as you walk toward the table in the center of the room.
“We’ve got leads to check out, muñequita.” 
Out of your wheelhouse. Yeah—Okay, that explains it.
You roll your eyes at the nickname and drop the stack with a distinct thunk before moving past him, narrowly avoiding his broad shoulders as you walk past him, through the half-open door as you grab for one of the styrofoam cups on the water dispenser before spooning the ice into it and filling it with water, sipping with a distinct look of disdain as you eye Javier up and down, seeing that he’s followed you over, half in the doorway and half out.
“If you’re going to stand there the least you could do is help me,” You tell him, “that way we can both get out of here faster and not have to spend any more time together than we need to.”
“It’ll be faster if I do it myself,” He tells you, a metaphorical shoo-ing away as he nods toward the stairwell at the end of the hall, “I know this room like the back of my hand.”
“Have you been in here lately? It’s a mess. No one ever puts anything back in the right spot.” 
Javier’s got his signature pout on, looking downtrodden and pathetic behind his thick mustache perched on his upper lip, the constant look of being unimpressed by everything.
“I’m not leaving, Javier. You’re welcome to help, stay late, whatever—but I’ve been in this room, in this heat for an hour already and you’re not about to swoop in and snatch the credit for something you couldn’t be bothered doing yourself in the first place, alright?”
Javier looks surprised at that, not as much by the bite in your tone but the lack of snide comment, not calling him an asshole or a prick and storming off. Again, you brush past him with your drink in hand and take your seat, feeling the thin layer of sweat covering your body—it wasn’t that unbearable, but another hour and you would be a hell of a lot more crankier.
“Fine—” You respond, eyes tracking elsewhere as he moves form his place against the open door, only catching the lingering shadow of the door as it closed until it was far too late, “fuck, Javi! The—”
A loud click and Javier’s reaction time, given his ability to pull out a gun and have it propped at the ready in half a second, is far too slow. He turns, seeing the now closed door and turns back to you.
“Door,” You say, voice falling flat.
Javier backtracks and heads for the door, hoping and praying this was one of the days it wouldn’t lock—it was a tricky thing. Only working half of the time. Luckily, any other time it was during the day, surrounded by people who could help. But, now—it’s the two of you and no one else.
If you were pissed at Javier before, you were fuming now.
He jiggles the doorknob. Nothing. Fist pounding against the door. Nothing.
A quick shout out to anyone. Anything. Hoping someone would still be near.
Nothing. Not a sound.
“We’re stuck,” You sneer at him, “—sit down or that jiggling is going to drive me insane.”
He kicks the door for good measure, hoping by some miracle it might actually pop open.
You huff out an exhausted laugh under your breath and spread your hands out over the files, sorting out the important information and pictures from the notes and extra files that weren’t really needed. Javier approaches slowly and you take a sip of the water, thankful that you were at least able to reward yourself with that before you ended up in this mess.
Javier takes a look at his own watch and clicked his tongue before resigning to the fact that things weren’t going to go his way, dancing his fingers along the edge of the table as he took a seat, fingertips pressed into the surface as he settled, watching you casually under the flickering overhead light.
A few minutes slowly turn into several, quiet aside from the occasional shuffling of paper or sips of your water and you find that when no one else is around, Javier isn’t a total asshole. There’s no harsh quip or snide comment being lobbed your way but you can also tell that he’s just as frustrated as you, knowing that he needed to sift through this intel too.
But, the heat was sweltering—so distracting and despite the setting sun outside, had you reaching for a few buttons on your blouse as you leaned back, sighing as you picked up an empty file folder and fanned yourself in earnest, exposing your neck as you hung your head back.
You don’t hear Javier, but you feel him. His eyes on you as you lift your head back up.
Bewilderment. Annoyance. You can’t place it in the moment, he doesn’t even speak. But, you find yourself responding anyway.
“What? It’s hot.”
Javier throws a casual hand up in defense but his eyes follow your hand as they descend into your styrofoam cup, water long gone but the ice standing strong. You take a piece and cup it in your palm before rubbing it over your neck, instantly sighing at the crisp cold touch of it against your skin and aptly ignoring how it drips down the valley of your breasts, looking up to catch Javier at just the right time, his eyes looked on your movements and more pointedly—your chest.
“Here, try it,” You tell him, noticing the sheen of sweat on his neck, “it helps.”
He plucks a cigarette out of his half-empty pack and places it between his lips.
“I’m good.”
“Suit yourself, “ You shrug, but quickly lean forward to pluck the cigarette from his mouth and place it down on the table, “–hey, can you not?”
Javier looks at you in disbelief, snatching the cigarette off the table and tucking it away anyways.
“You smoke in this place all day, you can at least wait until we’re out of here.”
“Do you ever loosen up?” Javier pokes at you daringly, “I mean, what does it really take for you to pull that skirt out of your ass?”
“Not you,” You reply sharply, a smile spreading across your face, “but, putting away the cigarette is a start.”
Javier leans back in the chair with a dignified sigh, scratching at his forehead in frustration at the lack of progress and the fact that he literally has no way out of here.
“You know, he’s been off the grid for three weeks,” You speak out loud, knowing that Javier is well aware, “is there really anything in here that is going to help? Or is it just that all of the leads are dead?”
His demeanor breaks slightly, a shuffle in his shoulders as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Both—maybe. This shit is probably pointless.”
“And that’s why you wanted me to take care of it,” You respond conclusively, “but you’re impatient—you don’t have to argue with me, I know you are.”
“Really, muñequita, you think you know me so well?” Javier asks testingly, tongue swiping over his bottom lip, “What else do you know about me?”
“That you like your ego boosted,” You retort, “and I’m not about to do that. So—”
“I didn’t ask you to,” Javier says with a smirk, eyes glinting with a faint, creeping darkness.
“Shut up,” You say in a clipped town before looking around curiously, “and what are we supposed to do now? Sleep here? I really can’t believe you fucking locked us in.”
“No, no—” Javier's finger wags in a motion that makes you want to bite them off, jaw clenching forcefully, “if you hadn’t wasted so much time then maybe we could have flagged down someone.”
“Okay, but you still let that door close.”
Once again, both arms crossed over your chest, a staredown is initiated. 
It wasn’t the first, it wasn’t the last, but you wanted to ruin him.
Knock him down a beg—hell, kick him off the pedestal and wipe the goddamn floor with him.
That stupid smirk, the boiling tone of cockiness wrapped in self-righteousness.
“Don’t think too hard, cariño.”
You huff out a half-impressed laugh and organize the files after a moment, stacking them to the side and reaching into your cup for another piece of your melting ice, repeating the same motion as earlier as you slide the ice between your breasts, but with the immense amount of eye contact you didn’t give Javier the first time.
Stubborn girl. He knew that much about you.
Javier doesn’t break immediately, but the small flex in his jaw, the slightest of cracks in his hard exterior.
Attack. Attack. Attack.
You wipe your arm against your sleeve, subconsciously pressing your breasts together in the process and Javier looks like he might keel over, eyes flicking up to meet your gaze now—he’s been caught. Gazing. Admiring. Seering to his memory for a later time.
You’re not really sure but you’re not going to let him off easy either.
“Now, Pena—Don’t think too hard.” You tell him in a sickly sweet tone, “It’s just a pair of tits.”
I don’t bite—you want to add. But, you don’t.
Because even if you found Javier attractive…there was just no way. 
No. Not possible.
“What is it?” Javier asks curiously, seemingly snapped out of his stupor, and meeting your gaze like he hadn’t just been staring directly at your breasts for far too long. “About me, I mean?”
You raise an eyebrow, finger circling the styrofoam cup as you center on the table.
“What?” You ask with a soft laugh of disbelief. “It’s—it isn’t your looks, Javier. It’s all of you. You undermine me, you treat me like a fucking lap dog. I might be a bitch but—I am not your bitch.”
He wasn’t expecting that intense of a response, it felt even more eerie as your tone continued on steadily. He considers interrupting but you continue, holding a finger up to stop him.
“You know—I transferred here to help with the assignment, collect the intel and take down Pablo Escobar just like you, but for some reason, you seem to think I’m just a personal assistant. Or one of the few receptionists who all want to throw themselves at you.”
“There something wrong with that?”
You roll your eyes in silence, but the gesture is loud.
“Did I say there was?” You counter, “I think the problem for you is that it isn’t me. That someone might actually find you repulsive, right?”
Javier only looks slightly dumb-founded, following your movements as you stand and fetch the stack of files, returning them to their make-shift home for the moment, buried away on a shelf that could be reorganized later—he turns in his chair, glaring right back at you when you turn on your heels. 
“Your legs don’t work?” You ask him, nodding toward thfew smaller stacks of files scattered about the table, “If you want to get the work done so bad, clean up—or do you want me to—”
“I. Got it.” Javier responds stiffly, standing on his own two feet. He scoops up the remaining files and puts them away opposite of the shelf you had, resting a palm on an empty spot as you lean back to pick up a stray piece of paper. “But, don’t act like I don’t see you kissing Carillo’s—”
You stand and shove the paper into his chest, “Finish that sentence and you will regret it, Javier.”
“It’s alright. No shame in your game and all that.”
Fuck this.
You reach for the cup of melted ice, splashing it promptly in Javier’s face before crushing the cup in your hand out of frustration, a moment of frozen realization coming to you.
Had you actually just done that?
Javier blinks, looking down at his soaked front before promptly removing his jacket in haste watching as you slowly back away, slightly disturbed by his calmness until he’s rearing on you.
Slowly—oh, so fucking slow. 
Your chest rises in slow, deep breaths and is nearly hanging off your shoulders by now, riddled with red, hot rage.
“Tell me I don’t make you even a little bit nervous, muñequita.” 
Is this a challenge? Is this what he’s worried about?
“You don’t.”
Your response is quick, but you find yourself pressed against a file cabinet and a few inches of free space before he’s right there—so close you can feel the heat of his body, your heart races slightly.
Okay, maybe just…a little.
“Again,” Javier beckons, a sneer to his tone as he crowds you in—“Look at me and say it.”
And for the love of god, the words never come.
“You let me flirt with you because you like it. Never correct me when I give you those little nicknames—look at you, you can’t even deny it.”
A half-truth. You didn’t mind it, but it wasn’t some sort of sustenance keeping you alive. Besides, it didn’t make up for half of the times he’s belittled you in front of your shared boss.
The heat is suffocating now and Javier’s eyes follow the trail of sweat down your neck, over your breasts, watching your fingers twitch at your side because—
Why do you feel the need to touch him so badly now?
To receive that touch in return and tenfold. 
“¿Qué pasa, pobrecita?” 
His fingers curl around the edge of the file cabinet behind you, barricading you between the wall and him and if you decided to show any signs of discomfort you knew Javier would back off in a heartbeat—you didn’t even need to say anything.
“Is that what it took?” You ask, voice soft in the small gap he’s created, eyes softening slightly as he hears you speak, “Being locked in here with me, nothing else to do—that’s what it takes for you to see me as anything other than some lowly little assistant to you?”
“You’re so fucking stubborn,” Javier says fondly, holding back a chuckle in his throat before his free hand is reaching for your neck and forcing your chin up and back, his thumb rubbing into the soft spot where your jaw twitches under his touch, swallowing hard.
“I thought you hated me.”
“I can say the same for you,” Javier responds, tilting his head slightly.
You’re so hot under his touch, skin clammy and wet from the ice and broken AC.
“I’m not saying I don’t.”
Javier presses his body against you slowly, your hands reaching for his shirt instinctively, curling into the fabric and feeling it stick to his skin, feel the weight of his chest against yours, and the very obvious strain of his slacks against your thin pencil skirt.
“And I never said I did,” Javier counters, “doesn’t change the fact that you get under my skin, querida.”
Javier leans in slow, that heavy eye contact never breaking until he’s there—nose pressed against your own and you sigh, breathing into his mouth as your eyes fall closed and he knows.
His lips are soft, careful. It feels like a test.
Your resolve melts in an instant, damning Javier for whatever spell he’s placed on you but you want more, hands skirting slowly up his front until they’re molding around his neck, kissing back with a similar eagerness, still laced in trepidation.
Things ramp up quickly, Javier’s fingers finding the edge of your shirt where it’s tucked into your skirt, pulling it free and squeezing at your sides, forcing your ass down against his knee from where it's tucked between your legs, somehow finding its way there in the chaos.
“Jav—Javier,” You breathe, pulling away, “maybe—maybe this isn’t the best place…”
Your eyes trail toward the camera tucked away in the corner of the room, knowing that it had to have some pretty damning evidence by this point—the list was long and you tried not to think about it for too long before Javier’s voice is pulling you back.
“That thing hasn’t worked in weeks,” He reassures and the flickering light above dims slightly, almost on cue, “are you scared of getting caught?”
You shake your head slowly and his smile grows, lips pressed against your own as he speaks and his hands tight at your hips, pressing your core right at the center of his thigh and pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched over your ass. You throb at the pressure, breathing out shakily.
“Then let go, muñequita,” He coos.
You hum, breath catching as he pushes his thigh up, your hips instinctively rocking against the pressure and if the heat weren’t already overwhelming, you would’ve passed out from that alone.
“It’s cute,” His hands aid your movement, a slow but steady rock of your hips as you furrow your brow at his voice, “—yeah that, you do that little thing with your brow whenever I talk to you.”
“Because I can’t s—stand you,” You voice falters, feeling him pick up the pace slightly to match your sudden eagerness, months without a proper sexual partner outside of yourself and you couldn’t help but be just a little bit more open to the idea of fucking someone who wasn’t your first option, or second—not even your last. Javier was nowhere on your list, actually. 
But, here he was. Offering himself over to you.
Besides, you had an entire night stuck alone with him—it wasn’t the worst way to entertain yourselves.
“Doesn’t seem that way right now,” Javier counters, his ego shining through.
“Stop. Talking.” You plead, hands pulling at the seam of buttons on his shirt, pulling at it roughly in two quick, forceful movements until it splits open, mangling some of the buttons in the process but if upsets him, he doesn’t say a word.
Instead, he rips it away just as quick, pulling his leg away to descend to his knees, pushing your blouse up your chest until he can reach bare skin, mouthing at the soft skin of your stomach and—christ, it’s distracting. He yanks at the short zipper on your skirt, making a small noise of happy acknowledgement when he’s able to get it undone and pull your skirt down the rest of the way, breath hot over your underwear as he stares up at you, fingers curled around the thread at your hips.
You nod silently and he presses his mouth against your center, teasing kisses along your inner thighs that slowly turn into playful bites until you’re nearly squirming, begging with a softer version of his name that you never tried to let him catch you using.
“Javi, please.”
He pulls your panties down your legs, over your heels and to the floor with little care, too focused on settling your leg over his shoulder before a hand is curling over the top of your thigh, fingertips digging in as he licks a broad stripe through the center of your pussy, his other hand balled into the fabric of your shirt and you need less—less clothing, less restriction.
You fumble with your buttons, head falling back against the metal of the filing cabinet with a sigh as the tip of his tongue slides over your clit and down, a motion he repeats several times in your poor attempts to undress and chuckles against you when you curse, finally getting your top unbuttoned and letting it sag at your shoulders, your fingers buried in his hair as he groans, lapping at you eagerly as his hand rises blindly until he can squeeze at your breast.
You moan loudly, instinctively covering your mouth at the sound as Javier pulls back in subtle shock himself, surprised that you allowed yourself to be so vocal about how he was affecting you.
“Not a fucking word, Javi.” You berate him, pushing a finger into his forehead gently which he takes in stride, laughing quietly.
“No one is here.” He reminds you, “Listen.”
And you do, Javier slowly rising to his feet and pressing his lips against the side of your neck, working at his belt in time, shucking his pants open just enough for you to slip your hand into his boxers, gripping his cock tight in your hand—still, absolute silence.
“Let me fuck you,” Javier begs—begs with fervor, his breath hot against your ear, “please?”
You nod jerkily, feeling him settle his slacks just low enough that they aren’t a nuisance and pulling the thigh that was resting over his shoulder around his hip, his fingers digging into your ass as you tug at him testingly, enjoying the look on his face when you squeeze a little harder than he’s expecting, enjoying the heavy weight of him in your hand.
“Oh, I can fuck that hate right out, querida ” Javier admonishes, “don’t try me.”
“I dare you,” You challenge him, using your free hand to pull at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a soft grunt in return, “—just remember to pull out, yeah?”
Javier full on snorts at that, a noise muffled into your neck when he leans forward, guiding himself to press against your cunt before he sinks in, both of your momentary hostility turning to full bliss.
His hand curves around the back of your head, a simple gesture but maybe more of a warning, his hips snapping into you suddenly, quickly, jostling you against the hard surface. He was protecting your head from the sharp edge of the cabinet and you almost laughed at the thought, but his impatient, fevered movements are sending you into a spiral, eyes rolling back.
“Stay with me,” He teases softly, lips at the base of your neck,  “want you to look at me while I fuck you.”
And you do, boldly, despite how your heart races. You let your body do the work, shutting your mind off for the moment—the hesitation, the worry, the regret that would hit you five minutes after this was over. 
You don’t remember it feeling like this, either. The full body sensation, his gaze heating you from the inside out, your thumb slipping over his bottom lip curiously, his teeth biting down gently on the digit as he fucks you deeper into the surface of the cabinet, if that was possible. 
There are no words, just sounds—moans that could be heard across the bullpen if someone was close enough and Javier, who is plenty vocal and has shown himself to be, can’t even form words, grunting with every few sharp snaps of his hips, fucking you so thouroughly it aches.
“Touch yourself,” He instructs, “let me see, muñequita. Wanna know.”
It doesn’t matter if he’s thought about it before—or, if somewhere in the deep, dark shadows of your mind that you might have had the same thought about him too.
There is no convincing, feeling yourself so on the edge already that it wouldn’t take much. And it doesn’t, your hand descending until your fingers graze over your clit, steadily bringing yourself closer and closer, legs shaking under Javi’s grip until he has to bear most of your weight as you come, blunt fingernails digging into his shoulder as you cry out. And he’s there too, so close and hanging on by a thread, the unsteady thrust of his hips a tell-tale sign.
Your heart is racing, mind too, and the words that come out aren’t anything of rational thinking.
“In my mouth,” You tell him, sounding more earnest than you ever have.
“You sure?”
You laugh through the exhaustion.
“Are you really questioning that?”
He shakes his head in amusement before he’s patting the back of your neck gently and urging you to your knees, jerking himself into your open mouth a few seconds before he’s coming, somehow managing to keep the moment tender as he holds your chin and squeezes gently, watching you swallow down the heady taste of him with your eyes locked on his.
“So, what now?” You ask jokingly, taking the hand he offers to you after a moment of him tucking himself back into his jeans, cursing when you shoulder bumps a stack of files on the way up, dropping them to the floor in a pile. 
Javier fetches your clothes and hands them over, redressing himself before plucking at the files hastily.
You’re nearly dressed when you hear him curse behind you.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“Hm?” You turn on your heels, busy tucking your shirt back into your skirt when you spot the item in his hands—a small gold key. “Well—don’t fucking stare at it. Try it.”
Javier approaches the door with quick footsteps, followed by your softer ones as you slip on your heels, gasping as the key turns in the lock and suddenly—the past couple of hours dissipates in an instant.
“Look at it this way,” Javier says lightly, “we’d still be stuck in here otherwise.”
Being that, if he hadn’t fucked you against the filing cabinet you’d be spending your night sleeping on the murky carpet of the file room floor—so, as usual, Javier Pena saves the day.
“Let me give you a ride home,” Javier suggests, “it’s the least I could do.”
“I live like three blocks away from—”
“Humor me?”
You chew at your bottom lip hesitantly.
Javier reaches forward suddenly, soothing the worry with his thumb.
“Pobrecita, if it isn’t all gone, we can try again?”
You slap his hand away gently, wordlessly taking his offer as you step past him, watching as his smile grows to a satisfied grin.
“You didn’t say no,” He adds.
Maybe he hadn’t fucked all of the hate out of you, but it was a start.
↝ special thanks to @undercoverpena for taking a look over this for me <3
↝ divider credit: yours truly.
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red-archivist · 4 months ago
Text
TMAGP 23 SPOILERS!
i heard those lines and was immediately inspired to make something sad lol
~
Twenty years ago, Jonathan Sims quits smoking.
Twenty years ago, Martin Blackwood’s mother survives her second stroke.
Twenty years ago, Jonathan Sims quits smoking.
It’s not enough to just stop, the shakes and the headaches nip at him constantly, and he reluctantly concludes that bad habits need to replaced by better ones.
That’s where the cycling comes in, to start with.
It’s exercise, it’s eco-friendly, and he can pretend he is literally leaving his cravings behind him as he pushes hard on the pedals.
He does his homework first, researching what is the best option for city cycling, for his budget, for someone that hasn’t ridden a bike since they were nine.
He plots out his paths to the office, the shops, and the nearest puncture repair centre, just in case. He even makes a spreadsheet to keep track of them.
He is sure Tim would poke fun at him for it, if they were still talking, but the organisation keeps his twitching fingers busy and his roaming mind away from the half-finished box of cigarettes in his desk drawer that he promises he will throw away any day now.
What all that planning fails to account for, as soon as he actually gets onto the road, is the rest of the world moving around him.
Every stereotype he has heard about antagonistic drivers is proven ten-fold as he dodges swerving cars and gets sworn at for whizzing past stalled traffic. He soon learns to sneer through tinted windows.
Pedestrians are almost worse. They seem blind to him, stepping out directly in front of his wheels and making him wobble as he overcorrects. As if a bike can’t still do some damage if he were to actually hit someone. Once, he clips the edge of a pram and stops in the street to shout some sense into the careless father pushing it.
He bitches openly about this during his lunches and his coworkers only roll their eyes at him sometimes.
The cycling becomes a bit of running joke in the office when they spot him coming in with his bike shorts and change of outfit, but he ignores them. The shorts are practical. For some reason, telling them that only makes them laugh harder.
He takes the fastest route into the office and a scenic one home. It winds through quiet well-off estates, before opening out to one of the less well-known urban parks. It’s calming, almost meditative, to roll through the cool shade the cluttered trees offer after another meaningless day of data entry.
In those times, he doesn’t think of his empty flat or his dead-end job, he forgets his sniggering coworkers and his ever-dwindling contact list. It’s just him and the wind.
The only thing that could make those moments better, he admits to himself, is a smoke.
The problem with this particular path is how hard it is to see around corners in the park. There is some national re-wilding initiative in the works and the foliage looms over the roads in a way that block his line of sight.
He checks every turn, even though it is rare to encounter a car in this area. Better safe than sorry.
The night he dies is warm but overcast.
He follows his usual route and cranes his neck to see around the overgrown corner he is approaching. A drooping branch grazes his head and something falls from the tree onto his neck.
It could be a leaf, or a twig, or a ladybird, but Jon feels the whisper-touch of something small at his throat and his only thought is: spider.
He has been afraid of them since he was very young and terrified instinct immediately beats any reason. One hand flies up from the handlebars to bat away at his collar. He swerves. Fear makes him pedal faster and the bike speeds onto the junction.
He is so scared of the potential at his throat that he never even sees the delivery truck.
The bike is sent flying from the impact, Jon falls under the wheels.
The driver, to his credit, calls emergency services immediately, distraught.
The ambulance is there within five minutes, but they needn’t have bothered. Jon is declared dead at the scene with a broken neck.
What few friends he has left comfort each other with that fact.
At least it was quick.
~
Twenty years ago, Martin Blackwood’s mother survives her second stroke.
This is a good thing, Martin reminds himself, more than once. It is Good that his mother is alive.
It doesn’t matter that the nurses need to attend to her around-the-clock now. It doesn’t matter that the care home bills have skyrocketed. He is grateful that she is still with him.
He starts looking for a third job. The admin work during the day and the shelf-stocking at night barely covered his previous bills. He’ll have to look for some flexible positions to cram into his schedule.
In the meantime, he cuts back. Eats cheaply, eats less. Cancels overdue check-ups and doesn’t touch the heating.
His days are a current of constant worry, occasionally breached by a wave of panic that he tries to quell by hiding in the office bathroom and digging his nails into his legs.
Panic won’t pay the rent or keep the lights on or remember to call Mum every Sunday. He smothers it deep in his chest and ignores the spasm of pain he gets whenever he forces it down.
He has been getting those more often; sharp, sudden chest pains, numb fingers, dizzy spells, an aching back, shortness of breath.
He had been going to ask the doctor about it all before he cancelled the appointment but. Well. Needs must.
He has his first heart attack on the evening shift.
Pulling a box of washing up tablets from the top shelf in Aisle 4 causes such a rush of agony in his chest that he dares to ask the manager to take his 15-minute break early.
He doesn’t make it to the back room before he collapses.
In the hospital, after he wakes, the doctors ask if there is a family history of heart problems.
If he didn’t feel so weak he would laugh.
He has more in common with his mother then he likes to admit. Of course they share a bad heart.
Or maybe it came from his father. Mum always said he was heartless. Maybe there’s a hole where Dad’s DNA should be.
When the medical team leaves him to rest, all he can think is how much this will cost him.
The NHS is no charity no matter what their marketing says, not to mention how much money he will lose by recovering. He can’t afford six weeks of not working. His first job doesn’t have that much sick leave and his second doesn’t have any.
He runs the numbers in his head, tries to find what else he can hack out of his life to keep his head above water. Occasionally his thoughts swerve, self-recriminating and barbed. He is so stupid for letting this happen at all.
It’s all his fault.
Mum is going to be so angry with him.
His heart pulses in keen pain, bitter and broken.
Somehow, he drifts off, counting figures instead of sheep.
The second heart attack kills him in his sleep.
~
They die on the same day, at nearly the same time (Jon rushes ahead, always too eager, Martin follows inevitably after him).
Their death certificates are filed away alphabetically by a bored clerk in the dusty management system of the General Register Office.
Twenty years later, Samama Khalid exhumes them and examines them, with more curiosity than sense, only to be disappointed by the mundanity of their ends.
He returns them together, heedless of any organisation.
Jon and Martin meet, in the quiet and the dark.
The filing cabinet is a shared headstone, their names rest side-by-side.
~
Also on AO3
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dietcokegirly12 · 1 month ago
Text
“How Much Did You Eat?”
featuring ranpo edogawa "૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა
⋅ ʚ𖦹ɞ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ʚ𖦹ɞ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ʚ𖦹ɞ ⋅
Tumblr media Tumblr media
art credit: @hanotanoha
⋅ ʚ𖦹ɞ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ʚ𖦹ɞ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ʚ𖦹ɞ ⋅
tags: aphrodisiacs, horny!ranpo, unprotected sex, slight handjob, teasing, masturbation
word count: 1.6k
KINKTOBER OCT. 17 (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
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Ranpo loved snacks, chocolates especially. Everybody in the Detective Agency knew this, you especially, since you'd always had kind of a crush on him.
So nobody questioned anything when he walked in from his lunch break with arms full of various candies, boxes and bags alike.
You also knew better than to ask for any, since he never shared so everyone just left him alone, to nurse his sweet tooth by himself.
It was only when you were passing by his desk to deliver some paperwork to Fukuzawa that you noticed something off.
He was currently indulging in a heart-shaped box of chocolates which was weird, because it was September, not even remotely close to Valentine's Day.
You paused, tilting your head. "Ranpo, what are you eating?"
He turns to you, eyes closed and still chewing, his cheeks full like a squirrel. "Mm.. chofclate."
At first sight, you think maybe it's very expired chocolate from last year, so you quickly take the box from him, eliciting a soft protest.
Turning it over, you squint at the label and it's just then that you notice in small, printed letters the words, Gourmet Sex Chocolate with Herbal Aphrodisiacs.
Ranpo peers over your shoulder. "Huh?"
You whirl around, eyes wide as he stares back at you, unfazed as he continues chewing.
"Ranpo!" You hiss. "Did you read the label before you bought these?"
He looks at you quizzically. "No, why?"
You steer him away from the office, lowering your voice as you say, "Ranpo these are sex chocolates."
You wait for his reaction, expecting him to dramatically spit it out, or gasp, or something, but he simply shrugs, reaching for another. You quickly snatch it out of his hand, throwing the box in the trash.
"Hey!" he complains.
"Did you hear what I just said?"
He laughs. "It's funny how worked up you are over this. You realize those are myths, and a placebo effect at best. They don't actually..."
"How many did you eat?" You interrupt, beginning to get worried.
Distractedly, he reaches for a different box of chocolates. "Huh?"
Snatching it out of his hands, you look down at this one to see a similar packaging. "Ranpo! What kind of candy store did you go to?!"
He lifts one shoulder, unconcerned. "I wanted to try something new, and they had a section in the back I've never seen before with all these expensive chocolates. I thought they were exotic or something."
In a panic, you try to come up with solutions to solve the problem at hand, shaking your head in concern. “Oh no. No. It’s too late. You've already eaten who knows how many."
You turn, wracking your head as you try to figure out what to do. “God! I hope you can’t overdose on those, or you’re going to be in trouble. Ranpo, you have to go home right now, and wait for it to leave your system. I’ll tell Fukuzawa you left early because you felt sick, and have Kunikida clock you out of the system..”
Breaking off when you get no response, sensing something off since Ranpo is never silent, you turn back. “Ranpo?”
He’s looking back at you, cheeks flushed and lips parted. His emerald green eyes are half-lidded and he’s breathing heavily. Looking down, you see he’s sporting an impressive erection, the thick outline of his cock straining against his brown pants.
You lift your gaze, cheeks flushed pink. “Fuck! They work fast! Sorry! I'll leave!"
Quickly, you slam the door behind you, leaning against it heavily as you catch your breath, trying to ignore the arousal pooling between your thighs. This was wrong. He was in a compromising situation, you couldn't take advantage of him when he was like this.
You take a deep breath. You needed to go back to work. You had things to do. And Ranpo... well he could deal with it himself.
After a few moments' hesitation, you get up and walk calmly back to your desk, smoothing your skirt down.
The next half an hour or so passes by, uneventful as you focus. Or, at least, try to. You keep finding your mind wandering to what you think Ranpo might be doing in his office right now. Jerking off, probably.
The thought makes you squirm, but you try to pull yourself together and start working on the graphs for the latest mission at the Agency before Kunikida comes and yells at you.
Suddenly, the door to Ranpo’s office creaks open, and you hear his voice, breathy and slightly ragged. “Can you c’mere?”
You look around, unsure if he’s talking to you but notice you’re the only one in the office at the moment. Everyone’s probably out, running errands.
“Ranpo? Are you..”
“Just come here.” His voice is impatient, but there’s no doubting the unmistakable needy, desperate whine in his tone.
Hesitantly, you walk over, and push the cracked door open.
Nothing can prepare you for the sight you see inside, however.
Ranpo, head lolling back and hair mussed up, his normally closed eyes half-open, and his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously.
You stay completely still, taking in the sight laid out before you. His cock was pretty and long, but most impressive was its girth. He was thick, his shaft pointed like a Cupid’s arrow at the top and sticking up into the air, flushed a pale pink with veins decorating it all the way down.
You don’t move, or make a sound, and impatiently he groans. “Are you just going to stand there?”
You swallow. “You want me to help you?”
“Fuck! Yes, I-I can’t.. it’s n-not working like this, just.. come here.”
You do, shyly, your hands twisting behind your back.
His head tilts back further, his eyebrows furrowing. “Touch me.”
Hesitantly, you come closer, reaching one hand out to take his heavy cock into your hand. It feels like velvet, and pearly precum beads out of the slit.
He shudders as you do, hips desperately thrusting up further.
Instinctively, you slowly pump him, your hand sliding up and down, and his needy whimpers and whines leaving his throat only serve to make your arousal grow.
You break off in a gasp as he suddenly sits up, smashing his lips to yours.
“Ranpo… are you..?” you gasp, as his face nuzzles into your neck, pressing himself to you as he rubs his erection on you, humping into you sloppily.
He breaks away only for a second to ask, “s’ this okay?” and as you give a shocked, affirmative nod, practically shoves you backward into his desk, pinning you down and grinding himself against you as he places messy, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach.
You instantly squirm, bucking upward to pant and let out soft cries of his name, as your hands find their way to his soft, brown hair, tugging him forward closer.
He’s trying to mold himself to your body as he pushes your legs apart with his knee and quickly nestles himself in between, his hard cock pressing right against your entrance, covered only by the thin layer of panties you're wearing beneath your skirt.
In one harsh tugging motion, Ranpo rips them off, and is back on you in a second. "M' so fucking horny. Could cum just from this." He desperately grinds against your drenched cunt, his cock leaking precum and making a mess all over you, as you squirm, arching under him.
At this point, he's so desperately impatient for you, he can't hold out any longer. With messy, uncalculated movements, he lines himself up against your entrance and sloppily thrusts all the way in, wedging himself deep inside you.
You gasp, trying to adjust to the sudden intrusion as your legs automatically close around him, trapping him.
“Fuck baby.. open your legs. I need..” he pants softly over you, his dick twitching faintly.
You can’t help but want to tease him in this state, keeping them locked firmly around him. “Or… what?”
“Fuck!” He cries out, trying to move. “Please I.. oh fuck don’t clench like that.”
You can’t help it as your pussy convulses and flutters around him at his whiny words, trying to suck him in further.
“Pleaseeee!” His dick throbs inside you, and finally you relent, parting your legs slightly, and he wastes no time, nudging them fully open and holding down your thighs with his hands to expose your dripping cunt stuffed full of his cock, and keep you still.
He begins a relentless pace, thrusting into you so hard the desk is rattling, his dick plunging in and out, filling the room with lewd, squelching sounds.
“R-ranpo..” you gasp, clutching onto him tightly as his eyes shut, adjusting himself to a new angle to hit your sweet spot every time, forcing himself deeper into your tight, warm walls. “S-slow down..”
He grunts. “C-can’t.. fucking aphrodisiacs. Never thought.. ah..”
You can feel your stomach tightening, so close you can practically taste it, and your hands come to grip in his mussed-up hair with a moan, cunt clenching desperately around his veiny girth.
“Fuck.. baby you’re.. mm close?”
Before you can even say anything, you feel your clit twitching as the coil in your tummy snaps, warmth drenching his cock as you tighten and spasm around him, your hips twitching up.
He groans, feeling the warmth of your arousal washing over him as he follows suit close behind, spurting thick, warm ropes of cum into you.
For a moment, you just lay there, still trying to process all the events that had just transpired, and the stickiness between your thighs.
Just as you’re about to get up from his desk, you feel the warmth of his hand pushing you back down.
“Ah ah. The aphrodisiacs haven’t worn off yet.”
tagslist: (ask to be tagged!) @kissesmellow21 @rosebluuod @sakui1 @sayyestoheaven00
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