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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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F.I.N.E || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x teacher!reader Summary: When your student gets injured and you can’t get hold of her parents you try call an old contact number hoping he can help. Warnings: slight angst, fluff WC: 3.4K

Max frowned at the unfamiliar number calling him. If it wasn’t for the fact it was a local number he would have ignored it but since few people had his personal number he decided to answer it. Immediately he was hit with the sound of high pitch cries and a soothing voice softly singing a lullaby that eased the knot of anxiety that had formed in an instant.

“Hello, is this Max?” you asked when you realised the dual tone had stopped and the call had been answered. You shifted the child carefully on your lap and grabbed the old enrolment form to see the name again. “Max Verstappen?”

“Maxy?” the girl in your arms echoed with confusion.

“Yes, who is this?”

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m one of Penelope’s teachers. There’s been an incident and I found your number under her emergency contact list.”

“Oh no, sorry, there must be a mistake. You should call her mother or father. I’m not, we’re not, um, I shouldn’t be on that list anymore.”

You cringed as another piercing cry deafened your ear and you rubbed the little girl's back. “It hurts,” she whimpered.

“I know, sweetheart, someone will be here to get you shortly,” you replied softly and you hoped it was the truth. “Look, Max, I’ve tried every other contact number and no one is answering. Is there any way you could come down here? At least until I can get in touch with someone else.”

Max pinched the bridge of his nose but when he heard P’s shuddering cry he knew he had to go. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”

Max didn’t care if he got a parking ticket, he took the loading space right outside the preschool building. He likely would have gotten a speeding ticket too in his rush to cross the city but thankfully there weren’t any police in his path.

“Maxy!”

Penelope wriggled in your arms as she spotted the stranger walking into the classroom. His eyes immediately found her and he crossed the space to where you sat holding her.

“Hey, P,” he greeted with a smile and knelt down at your height. “What’s happened, bug?”

Her little eyes welled up again as she lifted her bandaged wrist. “I fell off the playground.”

“I don’t think anything is broken but I would suggest having her doctor check to be sure.”

“I don’t know who her doctor is. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

“You’re contact details were-”

“Those must have been from when she started. Her mother and I haven’t been together for a while.”

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry to put this on you. I swear I tried every other phone number we have.”

Max nodded and his sigh sounded exhausted as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just need to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute, bug.”

Max walked along the room, looking over the children’s artwork as he pressed his phone to his ear and waited. Eventually the call went to voicemail and his spine straightened tensely. “Kel, I’ve picked up P from daycare and I’m taking her to the hospital. Call me when you get this.”

You could see the man was stressed when he returned and his short hair pointed in all directions from the hand he kept nervously running through it. It was cute.

“Daniil is in Italy this week for work,” Max said as he returned to your side and picked up Penelope’s Prada backpack before opening his arms. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of Kelly. Come on, bug.”

Lunchtime was coming to an end and children were starting to file back into the room, a few of the older ones stopping at staring wide eyed at Max. He was tall but not that tall or formidable to draw such a reaction but your question was answered when one of the boys ran to his picture on the wall. Timothée unpinned the drawing of a race car and ran up to Max, holding it out with a pencil.

“Sir, can you please sign this?”

Max looked used to the attention and took the pen with a polite, “Sure.” He stared at the picture for the moment after signing it and chuckled. “Is the RB20?”

Timothée nodded eagerly. “It’s my favourite.”

“Mine too,” he said as handed the picture back and smiled as it was crushed happily to the boy's chest. Max then carefully picked up Penelope, slowly so she wasn’t jostled, and his arms brushed yours.

“If you need anything you have my number,” you reminded as the weight was lifted from your lap. “Children can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”

Max smiled fondly at Penelope and shook his head. “This isn’t new. I still have her room set up.”

“You do?” Penelope asked hopefully and Max turned his head as he cursed to himself. “Are we going to live with you again?”

“No, no, sorry, P,” he said softly. “I just haven’t had time to redecorate.”

“Oh.” You both winced at the defeated tone and you knew the fresh tears had nothing to do with her arm this time but you were saved by the bell as it spurred Max to toss the bag over his shoulder and look to the door.

“I hope you feel better soon, Penelope.”

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you,” Max echoed with a nod before departing.

All afternoon you were distracted with thoughts of the two of them until the final bell rang and you grabbed your phone. You had sporadically tried to contact Daniil and Kelly again but the calls went straight to voicemail every time and you found no returned calls.

Y/N: How is Penelope? Max: She is happy watching The Little Mermaid. She has a sprained wrist and the nurse complemented the bandaging so you should be proud. Y/N: And how are you? Max: I’m fine.

Max swore as the pot of water boiled over and he hissed as he grabbed the handle to find it was just as hot. He dropped his phone reaching for the teatowel and then P started calling out from the living room complaining that the movie was boring - the same movie she watched a thousand times and she had specifically asked for.

Y/N: My mentor used to tell me that stood for: freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Are you sure you are fine?

After turning the stove down to a simmer and wiping up the mess of water that had splashed across his floor he went and changed the movie to what would hopefully last longer than ten minutes before she changed her mind. Taking another attempt at making dinner, he grabbed a bag of pasta from his pantry and poured its entirety into the pot.

Max: I’m thinking I am definitely neurotic and possibly starting to freak out. Y/N: I couldn’t have that on my conscience. My offer still stands if you need some help. Max: You don’t have anyone you need to get home to? Y/N: My cat prefers his own company unless he’s hungry and he’s already been fed today so no. Max: I don’t want you to go out of your way. Y/N: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to follow through. Let me help. Please?

Max smiled at his phone before sending his address and looking around to see how tidy the place was. His jacket was tossed on the table instead of being hung up and Penelope’s bag was spilled across the entryway floor, not the first impression he wanted to make.

You entered the port address into your phone and locked the classroom behind you, feeling a little unsteady at the thought of seeing Max again. Penelope was a sweet child and she seemed comfortable with Max but you hadn’t really ever heard her talk about him before. You told yourself the only reason you were going there was to check on your student's wellbeing, but a small part of you wanted to see Max again.

You wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard your knock on the door or that you had the wrong apartment and you rapped your knuckles on it again before he called out. There was a crash and then a groan close to the door before it swung open and Max balanced on one leg.

“Uh, is everything okay?” you asked as he clutched his foot.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he rushed before he caught the teasing curl of your brow and he froze before a smile grew on his lips. “Right, freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”

“You’re a quick learner.” You stepped inside at his invitation and he closed the door behind you while you rushed towards the burning smell in the kitchen. “Oh, wow.”

“Fucksake,” Max grumbled as he grabbed a wet tea towel before reaching for the tray of garlic bread in the oven. “Ouch, shit!”

“You said a naughty word,” Penelope called out from the next room like it was something that she regularly commented on. “That's another 20.”

Max sighed heavily as he looked at a jar on the bench that was already filled with cash. “Shit.”

“I heard that.”

“Shouldn’t you be watching your movie?”

You giggled at the amusing conversation before turning the tap to cold and taking Max’s hand. “Wet towels and hot trays make steam.”

He watched you guide his hand under the water and flinched as it hit the burn mark on his palm. “I don’t usually cook, if you couldn’t tell.”

“The life of a bachelor. Keep your hand there.” You moved with ease around his kitchen trying to save what was left of dinner but paused at a huge pot of pasta that had swelled up and pushed the lid half off. “Are you expecting a dozen other people?”

Max shrugged innocently. “I didn’t know how much to put in.”

“Well the good news is the top half is edible,” you stated after finding a colander and draining the pasta until only a thick layer remained stuck to the bottom of the pot. “Do you have any sauce?”

“Sauce?”

“What were you going to have with it?”

“Garlic bread.” You both looked at the charred sticks still smoking on the baking tray.

“Do you mind?” you asked as you pointed to his fridge and the cupboards around the kitchen.

“No, please. Go ahead.”

You checked the fridge first and you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. “Do you live off salads or does all this go to waste?”

“Neither, my nutritionist comes by twice a week and he prepares the meals.”

For a moment you had forgotten his profession. You had googled his name after Timothée couldn’t stop talking about meeting the ‘Max Verstappen’. “That must be intense, and restricting. Does your social life suffer?”

“It’s not so bad. I still get to go out for dinner and have a few drinks when I want.” He started to pull his hand out from under the water but you tutted and caught his wrist, holding it back beneath the cold stream.

“Keep still,” you warned with a voice you saved for children who weren’t listening. “It needs 20 minutes under there.”

“You want me to stand here for twenty minutes?”

“No, science wants you to stay there for twenty minutes.”

“Are you a teacher or a nurse?” he asked with a playful roll of his eyes.

“Depends if it's halloween.”

His loud laugh made you smile and you eased your grip on his hand one finger at a time to see if he would stay where he was. He did. “I’ll behave, Miss Y/L/N.”

“You can call me Y//N.”

“I kind of like calling you Miss Y/L/N.”

You checked to see if he was serious but thankfully there was a teasing smile on his face before you returned to the fridge to gather some ingredients.

By some small miracle dinner can’t have been too bad since everyone cleaned their plates of the pasta, though you thought they were likely being polite since you could still taste the hint of smoke from the bottom of the pan. Penelope had spent most of the meal asking Max if he remembered what they used to do when she lived there, how they used to go travelling and shopping. You got to see first hand how much patience the man had as he answered each question despite how it made him uncomfortable.

“You miss her,” you commented after she had gone back to the tv. Max started to collect the dishes with you and sighed as he placed them in the sink.

“It was a big change when they moved out,” he spoke quietly and you stepped closer so you could hear better. “She kept asking if she did something wrong.”

“That must have been hard for you.” His eyes widened and you wondered what shocked him, but you had a feeling it was the fact someone showed concern for him. Even though you didn’t know the details of the break up, it was clear he had and still did care for Penelope and you felt sorry for him. “Can I hug you? I’m a hugger and I feel like you could really do with one.”

“You want to hug me?”

You tried to shrug it off casually. “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everyone needs a hug sometime.”

“I do,” he said quickly, very quickly, before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I-I wouldn’t mind a hug.”

You smiled at his tentativeness and stepped into his personal space, slipping your hands into the narrow openings between his limp arms and his body to curl around his waist. It took a moment for him to respond before his own arms embraced the comfort and curled around your back too.

“You smell really good, Max,” you complimented as you rested your head on his chest and caught the scent of his cologne.

“Thank you,” he chuckled, the amusement relaxing him even more until his entire body curved into yours. “I think you have playdough in your hair.”

You hummed in agreement. “Highly likely. You wouldn’t believe the places I find that stuff at the end of the day, glitter too.”

His bold laugh made you smile and you didn’t care it was at your own expense, you were just happy to know it was because of you. Unfortunately you didn’t have the chance to hear it again as his phone rang from the countertop and you saw Kelly’s name light up the screen.

“I should let you get that,” you said as you stepped back, instantly missing the warmth and his scent. “I’ll go keep Penelope company.”

Max waited for you to leave the kitchen before he accepted the call, his calm state evaporating in an instant. “What the hell, Kelly? Where have you been?”

“My phone was on flight mode, I was on a plane. Is P okay?”

“Her wrist is sprained but she’s alright now.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself to breathe. “Why would you leave her alone?”

“She wasn’t alone. Maria was meant to pick her up after school and I should have been home in time for dinner but my flight was delayed.”

“Who is Maria?”

“Her nanny.”

Max had to suppress the groan at the news. He knew Daniil hated the idea of a nanny and he had offered to have more custody so that P would be raised by her parents and not a stranger, but Kelly had vetoed that idea.

“Do you want to go out for dinner? I owe you.”

“No, we’ve already eaten.”

“Some other time then.”

Max made a non-committal sound, his eyes darting to the living room where he watched Penelope explain the movie to you. You were so attentive and patient, asking questions that had Penelope thinking deeper and using such a simple interaction as a learning opportunity. He could see why you suited being a teacher.

“Maybe,” he lied, “just let me know when you’re almost here and I’ll bring P out to you, I don’t want to confuse her any more.”

“Right, of course,” Kelly sighed. “I’ll see you soon, Max.”

Max made the most of the time he had left with P, abandoning the dishes so he could sit on the other side of her and watch the movie about a chef rat. She had cozied into his side with a yawn and nudged his arm until he eventually draped it over her shoulder. It was completely innocent but you couldn’t help noticing the heat of his hand touching your arm, the warmth spreading like wildfire.

The fire was doused when his phone vibrated and the moment to leave had come.

While he grabbed Penelope’s backpack, you grabbed your handbag and prepared your own goodbyes. It was silly to feel sad the evening had come to an end but you knew that you would likely never see Max again. You weren’t famous and he didn’t have children, your paths weren’t meant to cross.

“Have a good weekend, Penelope,” you said as you knelt down and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”

“Bye, Miss Y/L/N.”

You rose to your feet wondering where you stood with Max until he opened his arms. “Anytime you need a hug, you have my number,” you offered as you stepped into his embrace, no matter how unlikely that prospect was.

“Or if I’m feeling fine?”

You giggled and nodded against his chest. “Especially if you’re feeling fine.”

The walk to the elevator was slow, as if no one wanted the strange evening to end, but there was no stopping time as it began making its way down from the penthouse to the ground floor. The doors opened and you instantly spotted Kelly in the reception area, her elegant and effortless beauty reminding you that you still had playdough in your hair.

With one last look at the man beside you, you gave him a small smile and stepped away. “Goodbye, Max.”

He didn’t respond as you headed to the valet area but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and yours vibrated a moment later.

Max: Are you okay?

Y/N: I’m fine.

Max: Me too. Emotional, you?

Y/N: Insecure.

Max: Want a hug?

You stopped and turned to see Max hand Penelope’s bag over before struggling to separate the girl from where she clung to his leg. She didn’t know, couldn’t see how it was hurting Max, but you could. So you waited, and when the mother and daughter had departed you stepped into the elevator with the subdued man, slipping your hand into his.

The elevator rose quickly and you watched Max’s throat bounce with the deep swallow he made before he choked out a broken, “Fuck.”

“I feel like I should remind you about the swear jar,” you teased as you bumped your shoulder gently against his arm. “But I’ll let you off this once because I have a soft spot for you.”

He looked down at you from the corner of his eye and you saw some of the sadness fading from them. “Does that make me the teacher's pet?”

You gasped dramatically and clutched your chest with your free hand. “I could never bestow such high praise after just one day.”

“What are your plans tomorrow then?” he asked with a smirk as the doors opened and he pulled his house key out of his pocket.

“I don’t have any.”

“Lovely, now are you going to answer my question?” He stepped inside the apartment and opened his arms. “Did you want a hug?”

Your smile chased away more of the shadows in his eyes and the last of it was erased when you stepped into his arms with an eager nod. “I will never say no to a hug.”

His chest bounced with a laugh and you felt him rest his cheek on your head with a contented sigh. “That is very good to know.”

#max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula one imagine

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dreaming-medium · 1 year ago

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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 10

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Praise Kink - Hyunjin

Word Count: 11.7K

Summary: As a lead detective in the police department, you've been assigned to solve a serial killer case, but you've hit a point where you can no longer work on the case by yourself. Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department and your sworn rival, is assigned as your partner.

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You have officially run out of red string.

The cork board in the conference room doesn’t have any more open spaces for new leads or clues. You can’t even see the brown of the board anymore.

Instead of whittling information down, you’ve only come up with more suspects for the case.

It’s better than the case going cold, sure, but it feels like you’re getting further and further from actually solving the damn thing.

It also doesn’t help that you not only have Chief Bang breathing down your neck, but the entire city as well. You understand, really, everyone wants a killer to be caught.

But these sort of things take time.

And they usually don’t have a million and thirty leads. Typically, you were lucky to have one.

Everyone in the city has a tip. And you have to check each and every single one.

Three sharp knocks draw your exhausted attention away from the board.

“Come in!” You call out.

The door clicks open and dress shoes click on the floor.

“I think you’re going to need another cork board soon, Detective.”

Your mood curdles like milk.

“What do you want, Hwang?”

Hwang Hyunjin, the department’s top detective and your least favorite person in the world.

Every case he touches is solved. Every last one of them. But maybe— just maybe— it’s because he gets to pick and choose which ones he’s assigned to.

The golden child of the police department. The biggest, cockiest pain in the ass you’ve ever met.

He clicks his tongue and walks up to the conference table you’re leaning against.

“I have a whole new stack of tips for you.”

The sound of a thick stack of papers hits the table, you cringe.

You haven’t even finished going through the last stack.

“And I am once again humbly offering my assistance on this case.”

You look over at him for the first time tonight. His long black hair is pulled back with a few strands dangling in front of his face.

He wears a pressed dress shirt, black tie, black vest, and slacks.

Truly, it looks like he popped off a magazine cover and you hate it.

“And I am humbly declining. I can handle this on my own, thank you.”

Your own heels click along the floor as you come around the conference table to sit down in front of the first stack of papers.

Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets and meanders closer to the cork board.

He looks up and down all the different leads, the ever expanding list of suspects, murder weapons, locations. He’s silent for a long moment.

The only sound in the room is the clock ticking on the wall.

What time is it anyway? You’ve been here since 4 AM when a call came in about another victim. The bags under your eyes surely look like bruises at this point.

Since you started on this case two months ago there hasn’t been a single night where you’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep.

Words are blending together on the paper. Is the sun up?

Warily, you turn and eye Hyunjin, who’s still staring at the cork board. His head cocks to the side as he studies all the different clues littering the surface.

He takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. You point an accusatory finger at him.

“No! No, no. You’re not coming in here and solving my case that I’ve been working on for months!”

His mouth shuts, a smirk appears.

Oh, you want to smack it off his face.

“I was only going to say—“

“No! Nothing! I do not need your help! Get out of here!” You shoo him away.

“L/N—“ he tries again.

“Shut it!”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth while making his way to the door.

You glare daggers into the back of his head, praying that a ceiling tile will miraculously fall and crush him.

He grabs the door handle and walks into the hallway. Right before the door closes, he peeks his head in through the crack.

“The killer is ambidextrous,” he says in a sing-songy voice.

A frustrated, muted scream tears from your throat and you hurl the nearest object— which happens to be a metal cup full of pens and pencils— at the door.

It shuts before the cup makes contact.

Hyunjin’s laugh comes through the closed door and it only makes your blood boil more.

You slam your head down onto the wood desk.

“Of course he’s ambidextrous.”

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“Detective L/N,” Chief Bang’s head pokes into the conference room. “Can I see you in my office please?”

You haven’t gone home yet. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday except now they’re more wrinkled.

Nodding, you put down your pen and tell your chief you’ll be there in a minute.

He hums and leaves the room.

You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes to try and get the exhaustion out of them.

About 100 ounces of coffee is flowing through your body but it’s doing nothing to wake you up, all it’s doing is increasing your heart rate.

To anyone else who wanders through your police department, they might think you’ve escaped the morgue.

The walk to Chief Bang’s office was short.

As soon as you step inside, your heart sinks.

The chief sits behind his desk, but that’s not why your stomach turns.

Hyunjin takes up one of the chairs, another freshly pressed suit on his body.

The man is flawless and it makes you want to become a suspect for one of your cases.

“Take a seat, detective.” Chief Bang motions to the other empty chair.

Hyunjin looks up at you, arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk pulls on his lips as he takes in your disheveled appearance.

You tongue your cheek for a moment and flip your hair over your shoulder before sitting down. Your fingers iron out deep wrinkles in your pencil skirt.

You try to maintain some level of pride. It’s comical, really.

“Now, I’ll cut right to the chase here, Y/N, it’s not that I don’t trust your abilities as a detective, I do.”

You deflate.

“But this case is becoming too much for one person.”

Your jaw clenches.

So badly you want to refute that claim, to tell Chief Bang that you have it handled, it’s no big deal. But that’s a lie and you both know it.

And the smug asshole next to you definitely knows it.

“Detective Hwang has kindly offered his assistance on the case, so I’m assigning him as your partner on this.”

You think for a moment. “Can I get a different partner? I think Detective Kim just closed his last case, meaning he’s available to help.”

“Detective Kim started a new case this morning.”

“Detective Lee?”

“Busy.”

“Officer Yang?”

“He’s not even a detective.”

“What about Detective Seo?”

Chief Bang stays silent, deadpan eyes watch you. He cocks his head to the side.

You sink back in the chair.

“I specialize in homicide cases, L/N.” Hyunjin pipes up from next to you. “I’m the best one for the case and you know it.”

“Zip it, Hwang.”

Hyunjin scoffs.

Chief Bang rolls his eyes, his patience obviously wearing thin. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to swallow your pride for the sake of the city. There’s a murderer on the loose, remember? You’re my top detectives, it would be stupid not to partner you together.”

You can’t meet his eyes, you look off to the side, crossing your arms over your chest. Anxiously, your leg begins to bounce.

“Put your personal feelings aside, Y/N.”

Silence falls over the room. Both of the men wait for you.

It really doesn’t feel like you have a choice, here. Obviously, you don’t.

“Fine.”

“Great!” Hyunjin taps his hands on the arms of the chair and then pops up. “I’m going to need access to all the files you’ve been looking at these past two months as well as the extra key to the conference room.”

He grabs his trench coat off the back of the chair.

“I’ll also need you to catch me up to speed on the latest tips from civilians; you did have time to read those last night, right? Additionally, I think we should rearrange our hours so that we’re on duty together until this is solved.”

He makes his way towards the door.

“Come on, L/N! We’ll discuss over coffee.”

You stare at Chief Bang. He offers you a slightly amused, slightly sympathetic smile.

“Best of luck, detectives.”

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The hot mug rests between both of your shaky hands. Hyunjin sat across from you in a large diner booth.

Files littered the entirety of the top of the table. It’s all things you’ve seen before and practically have memorized by now.

You explained everything you knew to him from the beginning, sparing no detail.

College girls were all found murdered in their dorms. No security footage of anyone going in or out of the building that doesn’t belong there.

Each victim is about two weeks apart.

A half eaten fruit cup sits next to your coffee. ‘Fruit cup’ is a loose term since more than half of it was honeydew melon.

Why can’t they just throw a few strawberries in there? Slice up a banana or toss a few blueberries in? They already have the fruit in the back for the pancakes, it would be so easy to—

“I don’t think this victim is from the same killer.”

Your head snaps up and you glare at Hyunjin. “Who?”

He slides the file across the table to you. “Andrea Bowman. She doesn’t fit the same profile as the other victims. All the others were blonde, Andrea has brown hair.”

You sip at your coffee, glazed eyes scanning the file. You’re simply too tired to keep up the anger.

“I had thought the same thing at first. But according to the coroner, her time of death would put her as the first victim of the killer, first victims of serial killers tend to not fit the profile of the rest since it’s the first taste.”

Her autopsy stares up at you.

“Plus, everything else is consistent with the rest, bruised wrists and ankles and a slit throat. They’re all college aged girls who went to the local community college.”

You slide the crime scene photos around, taking in all the details.

“Maybe she wasn’t his victim.” One of her school photos peeks out from the bottom of the stack, you pick it up and look at it solemnly. “But something tells me she was his first.”

Hyunjin watches you closely, any rebuttal he had died on the tip of his tongue.

Plates clatter in the kitchen.

Your nose scrunches and you pack away Andrea’s file.

“You said they all go to the same school?”

“Yeah, the community college.”

“Did they all study the same thing?”

You shake your head, taking another sip of coffee. “Nope, all different fields of study, all different extracurriculars. They didn’t even live in the same dorm building.”

Hyunjin leans back against the booth and picks up his iced coffee, taking a long sip while staring out the window.

Your fingers run through your hair. “I requested their transcripts and class schedules from every year but I’m waiting on all those requests to process. With how slow the registrar’s office is taking you would swear they didn’t want this case solved.”

“Red tape always gets in the way.” Hyunjin reaches down in his pocket and takes his phone out, tapping a few buttons and then holding it up to his ear.

You cock an eyebrow at him, he only holds up a finger at you. You scoff.

“Dianne? Hi, it’s Hyunjin!… I’m doing so well, and you? … That’s great to hear! … Yes, yes those homemade cookies were to die for.”

Your mouth falls open a bit. Who in the hell was he talking to? Homemade cookies?

Throwing your hands up in front of your face, you give him a flabbergasted look.

He narrows his eyes at you and gives you a look that says ‘be quiet’.

“Listen, I was actually calling to cash in a favor, I have a list of students I need transcripts and schedules of for a case. … I can email it over to you, it’s for the— … yes, yes that one.”

You slow blink at him. Does he have a contact at the registrar’s office? Of course he does, why wouldn’t he have one?

The golden child strikes again.

“You’re a darling, Dianne, thank you. I’ll send it to you asap. … of course, say hello to Rob for me. Bye!”

He hangs up and puts his phone back on the table.

Hyunjin takes one look at your face and shrugs. “What? I helped her with a personal matter when I was a P.I.”

If you roll your eyes anymore, they’ll go into the back of your head.

“So do you have a list—“

You interrupt him. “Yeah.”

“Can you—“

“Mhmm.”

You finish your coffee and reach into your purse, digging out a ten dollar bill and tossing it onto the table.

“Where are you going?” He asks you.

“Home,” you respond simply while shuffling out of the booth. “I haven’t slept since Monday.”

Hyunjin looks down at the various files on the table. “What about the list?”

You move the files around and pull out one of the papers and place it in front of him.

“It’s right here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hwang.”

“Tomorrow? But what about—“

“If Dianne gets the list back to you, just forward it to me. I’ll look at it when I wake up.” Your voice is full of venom.

“I really think we should look at it together.” His eyes narrow. “We’re partners on this, remember?”

“As if you would even need my help,” you spit out. “By the time I come in tomorrow, you’ll probably have the entire case solved, the perp arrested, and all the paperwork done before I even pour my coffee.”

The more you talk, the more your anger levels rise. You lean over him in the booth, one of your hands on the back of the seat to keep you balanced.

Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he leans back as you go forward.

“The golden boy will strike again, solving a case that I’ve been working on for months and getting all the credit. Because that’s just how good you are. Mr. Perfect. Everything about you is just amazing.”

He gulps and shifts around. A red tint creeps up on his face.

And for the first time since you met him, Hwang Hyunjin is speechless. His mouth opens to say something several times but no sound comes out.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me.” You stand back up and turn on a heel, leaving the diner and a very flustered detective behind.

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

Knock after knock after knock after knock bangs on your apartment door.

You’re not sure of how long whoever’s been knocking has been at it, but it takes you a solid thirty seconds to wake up fully. You had peacefully drifted into a very deep sleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

The entire bedroom is pitch black, the sun no longer in the sky. The clock on your nightstand displays that it’s around 1 AM.

“What the fuck?” You slur out. It’s so hard to open your eyes right now.

The knocking persists.

With all the grace of a drunken newborn deer, you slither out of bed and make your way to your front door.

You flip on a light on your way there.

Staring through the peephole, a frown pulls at your face as soon as you see who’s banging on your door at this ungodly hour.

You rip the door open, startling Hyunjin. His hand still hangs in the air when you open it.

“Finally!” He shoves past you and into your apartment.

“No, please, come on in.” You growl and shut the door, securing all the locks in place again.

Behind you, you hear him slam a stack of papers onto your kitchen island.

“I forwarded you the transcripts hours ago but you didn’t answer.”

“I told you I would look at them when I woke up.”

He takes in your disheveled appearance with judging eyes. Your hair was all frizzy and out of place, a loose t-shirt hung off one shoulder and was so big you couldn’t see the shorts underneath.

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a swallow.

It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing you in such a relaxed state. He was still wearing his dress pants from earlier, but he only had a dress shirt on with his trench coat over the top.

“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” He looks back down at the stack of files and opens them up, spreading papers everywhere.

You come up to the table and look down at everything.

Semesters of different class schedules stare back at you. Some have highlighted portions, others are still blank. He seems to have given up in the middle of doing it himself, opting to bring it here.

You tongue your cheek, looking over what you can see so far.

It’s going to be a long night.

“I’ll make coffee.”

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

Hours have passed, the sleepiness and weariness of being woken up has been replaced by the delightful thrum of caffeine in your veins.

After about a half an hour of going through the transcripts, you quietly asked Hyunjin if he was alright with you playing music softly.

He stared at you with wide eyes, “Ah, yeah, of course, that’s fine.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m just… not used to you asking for permission before doing something.”

Grumbling, you rolled your eyes and picked your phone up to scroll through playlists. You settled on a calmer one full of music from artists like Lord Huron and Tom Rosenthal.

Since then the two of you have been silently going through each schedule.

Biting the end of the highlighter absentmindedly, you study the class schedule.

“I’m only seeing one similarity.” You say out loud. Hyunjin looks up. “This one class, it’s a gen ed Physics class. But each of these girls took it, all at different times though.”

“Which class?”

“PHYS 100. Same Professor– Dr. Furon.”

“Do you think we should bring the professor in for questioning?” he asks.

“Couldn’t hurt. Right now he’s the only common denominator. Is it anywhere on your transcript?”

Hyunjin flips through the pages. “Yep, right here, her freshman spring semester back in 2020.”

You pull out a sticky note and write down that info.

“Can you go through each one and tell me when they took the course?”

Hyunjin gathers all the stapled packets of papers up. “Yeah.”

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

You and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder looking through the one way glass.

A near ninety year old man sat on the other side.

“So,” Hyunjin says to break the silence.

“So.”

“It can’t be him.”

“Obviously.”

Another long moment of silence.

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to question him or should I?”

You sigh, watching as the professor fidgets with a loose string on his sweater sleeve. The officers had completely forgone the handcuffs, allowing him to sit at the table freely.

They also rolled in a comfier chair and gave him a cup of coffee.

“My case. I’ll do it.”

“ Our case.”

“Shut it, Hwang.”

You make your way into the interrogation room with a notepad tucked under your arm.

The professor looks up as soon as you open the door. He shakily stands up from his seat with proper manners.

You smile gently. “Dr. Furon, thank you so much for taking the time to come down.”

Both of you shake hands before sitting down. His grip is not firm whatsoever.

Arthritis.

“Oh, it’s no matter. Happy to be of help.”

You place the notepad down and scoot your chair in. “I’ll get right to it since I can see you’ll be our best help here. When analyzing the list of victims, we saw that each of them had taken your class before. It’s a small lead, I know, but it’s too much to sweep under the rug.”

He nods, listening carefully. He blanches and leans back. “I didn’t realize I had each of them. There are so many students in each section, there’s not enough time to learn names.”

He shakes his head.

“I had recognized a few in the paper, but I try not to do too much digging, it hurts too much to look into. I don’t know how you detectives do it.”

You reach across the table and grab his hands warmly. “I feel the same way about physics, I don’t know how you do it. All those equations.”

Dr. Furon cracks a smile. “Someone has to. But I do have help with all my courses. Each student has a specific discussion section once a week with a smaller class size, but they’re all taught by graduate students.”

You jot that down on your notebook and lean your chair back. You knock once on the window.

“On it.” Hyunjin’s muffled voice comes through the glass.

“Just one more question, Dr. Furon, I won’t take up any more of your time, this has been very valuable. Are there any students or people that you come in contact with that maybe trigger some alarm bells or a gut instinct?”

He shifts around, he really thinks about it.

“I really can’t think of anything, detective, I’m sorry. The girls’ names that I recognize were normal students too, granted they weren’t the best, but I do know they were doing their very best. Breaks my heart.”

You scribble that down and stand up.

“Thank you very much for your time, Dr. Furon. We greatly appreciate your help.”

He nods and stands up as well. “Of course, if I can do anything else, please give me a call.”

“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.” You reach across the table and hand him a small business card.

You showed the professor out of the room, asking if he needed anything. He patted your arm sweetly before leaving.

When you turn around, Hyunjin is standing there, waving a file around.

You roll your eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

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

Your apartment has become the unofficial meeting place for both you and Hyunjin once your shifts are over. The department wasn’t great for concentration.

They say not to take work home with you, but your home is so much cozier.

It’s only about 8 PM. Takeout containers take up a small portion of the kitchen island.

Another pot of coffee is brewing.

“So, between the victims, there are five different graduate students that taught their discussion sections. And one of them graduated last year.” Hyunjin flips through his notes.

You run your hands through your hair.

“So, four graduate students.”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’.

“Do we have any information on the four students?”

“No, but we have enough cause to bring them down to the station for questioning.”

You sigh and pick up your phone. “Let’s do that, then.”

A message is sent off to Chief Bang, he replies immediately saying he’ll contact them immediately and have them brought in and that he’ll call you when you can come in.

“I just don’t think it was any of the graduate students.” Hyunjin adds, sliding papers around to grab a victim’s file.

“I agree.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you. “Two of the graduate students are women— women don’t commit murders like this, the other two are masters in their field with promising careers.”

“I know, I agree with you, Hwang.”

“And I just don’t think that— wait, you agree?”

You stare at him with a blank expression. “Yes, I agree with you.”

He shifts around on the seat. His mouth opens and closes a few times before actually speaking. “You agree?”

Rolling your eyes, you place the papers down on the table. “Hwang, you know I would rather die than agree with you, but in this case, yes, I agree, I think you’re right.”

“Oh.”

Looking back down at the papers, you absentmindedly read a sentence in one of the witness statements. “I know you get the job done, I’m not going to put personal feelings before a case.”

Hyunjin fidgets more. “So, you think I’m a good detective?”

Is he serious?

You roll your eyes, still not looking up. “Yes, Hwang. Chief Bang has proclaimed you as one of the greatest detectives— everyone at the station knows that.”

“I just didn’t think you thought that way.”

“I’m not here to stroke your ego, Hwang.”

He clears his throat and shifts forward on his chair. “But do you , Y/L L/N, think I’m a good detective?”

Putting the paper down on the counter, you look up at him with a cocked eyebrow and a frown. “Really? Do your work.”

“Not until you say it.” He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest.

Rolling your eyes, you look down once more. What was on this page again?

“Choke.”

Hyunjin takes a breath to say something, but your phone lights up with a call at the same time. Expecting it to be Chief Bang, you answer quickly.

“Detective L/N.”

“Detective!” An old voice comes from the other line. You pull your phone back to look at the unknown number and then bring it back to your ear.

Hyunjin’s attention peaks at your confusion.

“It’s Dr. Furon, I apologize for calling so suddenly.”

“Oh, hi Doctor, it’s no trouble at all.” You look around for your notepad.

“Put it on speaker,” Hyunjin hisses while leaning forward. You shoo him off. He reaches forward to grab the phone from you, you smack his hand.

“I remembered something I didn’t get a chance to say earlier, I’m so sorry I didn’t think of it,” Dr. Furon continues.

“That’s quite alright, it’s the reason I gave you my number. Now, what is it?” You grab a pen and a random piece of paper.

Hyunjin reaches again, you smack his hand once more. “Speaker!” He grumbles again.

Dr. Furon talks, unaware of the petty brawl happening on the other line. “All of the students that are struggling in my class, I point them to the tutoring center in the library. As far as I remember, the names that were in the paper, the ones I recognize at least, they were going to the tutoring center.”

Your eyes widen and you write it down quickly.

Hyunjin’s patience wears out, he stands up from the counter and comes around to your side, his face dipping down to press his ear to the other side of the phone.

“Is there only one tutor available for your class?” you ask, jotting down notes.

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. You know, now that I think of it, on their final exams, I give extra credit if they write down that they went to tutoring and name their tutor.”

“Do you have those exams?” Hyunjin asks into the phone. You reach over and flick his forehead. He swats your hand away.

“Oh, Detective Hwang, how are you?” Dr. Furon says politely.

“I’m doing very well, thank you.”

You go to smack him again, he once more swats your hand away.

The professor comes back to the conversation. “I have them but they’re in my office. Would you two mind coming to campus to get them tomorrow?”

“Of course,” both you and Hyunjin say at the same time.

You sneer and push his face away.

“Great!” Dr. Furon gives you all the details for tomorrow and the two of you hang up.

Placing your phone on the counter, you stand up to get away from Hyunjin.

“You could've put it on speaker.”

“You could’ve been patient!” Grabbing the nearest object— a tissue box— you hurl it at him.

Hyunjin only laughs and catches it.

“Putting more coffee on?”

“Obviously.”

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

“It’s the same one,” you say incredulously, flipping through the exams that Dr. Furon had given the two of you.

While you got the papers from the professor’s office, Hyunjin had gone to the tutoring center for a list of tutors. Apparently he had a connection there as well.

The two of you now sat in the conference room with your original cork board to the side. New leads and pictures right smack in the middle.

You had spent the day questioning the graduate students, but as you suspected, it was a dead end. No one knew anything.

The exams spread over the table were the best lead.

“It is,” he mutters in agreement and disbelief.

“Eric Rowan.”

“Do you think…?” Hyunjin trails off.

“I do,” you state clearly. “I really do.”

Shaking your head, you flip through the exams over and over to make sure you’re right, to make sure you’re not looking past something.

You’re not jumping to conclusions, are you?

Hyunjin suddenly stands up from the table and makes his way to the door. “I’ll have the chief get someone to bring him down to the station.”

He didn’t even give a second thought to your decision.

The door clicks after him. The silence inside the room is deafening.

It would be perfect if you could play music like you do at home.

“Eric Rowan,” you whisper solemnly.

One tutor from the library at the university.

It would make sense.

Hyunjin had managed to get Eric’s entire tutoring log, every student he’s ever tutored had been included.

You were able to highlight each and every one of the girls’ names that were victims of these heinous crimes. There were about two weeks of time between their last tutoring session and when they were found dead.

One name stuck out, one name brought you an endless sigh of relief: Andrea Bowman.

It made your skin crawl, but you instantly noticed she was the first female he tutored during his time.

Slowly, the pieces started clicking. Your throat got a bit tight, it was difficult to swallow the emotions.

You look around and grab her file underneath a huge stack. Her school picture is the top photo paper clipped on the inside.

Andrea’s smiling face will haunt you for a long time.

Hyunjin came back into the room, you didn’t look up.

“Chief just sent someone out to get him, we’re getting interrogation room two ready for him, I think that— L/N?”

Your head snaps up and you sniffle.

“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse.

He shifts his weight in the doorway. “Everything finally hitting?”

You bite your lip and look back at Andrea’s picture. “Yeah.”

Standing up from the table, you close the file and tuck it underneath a few more.

“The guy hasn’t even confessed yet, I’m getting ahead of myself here. It just makes too much sense. These girls stopped going to see him two weeks before he killed— supposedly killed them.

“It just reads so clearly. He probably made a move, they felt uncomfortable so they stopped seeing him for tutoring, he couldn’t face rejection, so he killed them. It’s fucking sick.”

You roll your shoulders and look up at the ceiling. “Am I being too hasty? It just feels right, like … like these girls are cheering for me and telling me I’m right.”

The door shuts behind Hyunjin. He weighs his words carefully and walks up to his jacket, grabbing it off the back of the chair he sat in before.

Those perfectly polished dress shoes click on the floor. It echoes off of each wall.

“There’s one thing I’ve always lacked as a detective.” He folds the trench coat over his arm and walks up to you. “It makes me so mad that I don’t have this, it would help with so many of my cases.”

You watch him warily. There’s a sad smile on his face as he takes in your frazzled mood.

You’ve never worn your heart this freely on your sleeve before.

With a sigh, he reaches up and taps on your forehead. ��Women’s intuition.”

For the first time, you have no response for him.

As far as Hwang Hyunjin goes, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a compliment from him, or even an acknowledgment of your skill.

Your lips stay sealed.

“I’ve never not trusted your judgment. Ever. If your gut is saying this is the guy, then this is him. When have you ever been wrong?”

Your mind is reeling.

Did he just compliment you again?

Heat rises to your cheeks. Your stomach flips.

“I’ve always been so jealous of that. You just… know.” He shrugs and looks around, a small tinge of pink on his cheeks. “When the pieces finally fit into place you’re fucking brilliant at solving everything so fast. What’s that about?”

A sad laugh tumbles from his lips.

“This case would’ve taken any other team months to solve, but you and I did it in two weeks. Maybe we should work together more often, Y/N.”

There’s no way he said that.

He’s jealous of you?

And did he just call you by your first name?

He stares down at you for a couple of seconds. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear that his eyes flickered to your lips more than once.

“Come on then, we have an interrogation to do.”

Hyunjin turns on a heel and makes his way to the door.

“Thank you,” you call after him. Hyunjin’s hand pauses on the door handle. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge what you did— the favor you just returned.

He doesn’t speak on the new level that your relationship just crossed nor the mutual respect that you two just shared.

Nothing.

You don’t even get to see his face when you call him by his name for the first time.

But, by the way his shoulders square and his head twitches, you know it affected him.

Wordlessly, he nods and opens the door, leaving it open for you as he walks into the hallway and towards the interrogation rooms.

Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department, considers you to be on the same level as him. Who would’ve thought?

Maybe he’s right, maybe you should work together more often.

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

Hours and hours and hours have gone by.

Hyunjin as well as other officers have been grilling Eric for what seems like days. But it’s only been about 18 hours.

The bags under your eyes feel like bruises.

Three empty coffee cups and one full one sit next to you as you stare through the one way glass.

Hyunjin’s pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets.

His tie is loose around his neck, the sleeves of his button up are rolled up, his hair is tied up out of his eyes.

He’s been trying to go the good cop route for the last 3 hours. Slowly, that act has been dropping; Eric is getting on his last nerve.

You both let Eric sit in the interrogation room by himself for 4 hours leading up to this to get to his head. It didn’t seem to work. You can only legally keep him here for forty-eight hours.

If anything, he’s only gotten more agitated.

Hyunjin walks up behind Eric, he reaches one arm down to the table.

“You’ve never seen any of these girls before?” Hyunjin slides a few photos towards them on the table.

“No.” Eric answers quickly. “I’ve already told you that.”

“I just think it’s interesting you’ve never seen any of them, Mr. Rowan. You tutored them. All of them.”

“Do you realize how many students I tutor on a daily basis?”

Hyunjin barks a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize you were that popular.” He comes around the table and opens a file.

Hyunjin pulls out one specific page, and reads off the top. “Actually, here we go, I know exactly how many students you tutor. Let’s see here: ‘Eric Rowan works two days a week in the tutoring center, Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ Last week you tutored 3 students total, and they were all returning students— how interesting!”

He slams the paper down onto the metal table. Eric jumps.

“Only three returning faces to your tutoring session, Mr. Popular. And here’s the funniest thing; I’ve noticed that there’s no women on this list. Weird.”

Eric’s eye twitches.

Hyunjin takes a seat across the table, folding his hands on top of a notebook.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend before, Mr. Rowan?”

Eric scoffs and shifts around in his seat.

Your interest is piqued, you sit up straight in your chair and lean forward.

Why did he get so nervous all of a sudden?

Eric picks up the cup of water that he requested and takes a long sip from it. Hyunjin waits patiently.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to anything, Detective.”

Hyunjin laughs and opens the file. “See, I thought you would say that. My chief also asked the same question.”

Said Chief, who has been standing behind you for the better part of 5 hours, most certainly did not ask that. Chief Bang snorts quietly at the lie.

“But you know what, we detectives have to do our due diligence.” Hyunjin opens a file and slides a large printed photo out across the table. “Recognize her?”

So many different emotions fly across Eric’s face: anger, loss, betrayal, depression, rage, hurt. The muscles in his face dance as they try to settle on an expression.

“No,” he grits out.

An obvious lie.

“Interesting.” Hyunjin pulls out another photo and slides it across. “Because just by taking a quick look at your social media profile, I can see how this girl was your girlfriend . Look, here you are together! Leah Miller. Pretty girl.”

Eric says nothing. He can’t look away from the picture.

“Most interesting part I noticed was that you haven’t posted anything with her in about a year. What happened? Breakup? They suck, hm? Sorry, should I have said ‘ex-girlfriend’ before? My bad.”

You can’t help but smile. Hyunjin’s always been brilliant in interrogations, you can’t deny that. You’ve only ever heard rumors about how he is on the other side of the one-way mirror.

Sneaking a peek at the picture of Leah Miller, your eyes widen. She fit the profile: long, blonde hair and sweet, light eyes.

More pieces fall into place.

“It’s none of your business,” Eric grits out between clenched teeth.

Chief Bang shifts behind you and grabs the back of your chair. Obviously he senses it too, a confession, a slip up, anything. It’s showing its head.

“What? What are you saying?” Hyunjin laughs. “It’s exactly my business. That’s quite literally what my job is, you know, to know your business. It’s the same reason I know that you asked out Andrea Bowman during one of your tutoring sessions and she rejected you.”

“That’s not—“

“Oh, sorry, is that not how it happened? Did you maybe try and make a move on her and she rejected you that way? Maybe you put an arm around the back of her chair? Classic.”

“I-I didn’t—“

“Not that one? Understood.” Hyunjin nods and flips through the pictures on the table. “Oh, did you use the old ‘give me your number just in case you need more help’ trick? Used that on a girl in college, myself. Of course, it worked for me.” He winks at Eric.

Eric is fuming, his face is turning redder and redder, the vein in his forehead is popping.

“Here we go,” Chief Bang whispers under his breath.

Your mouth is agape, you’ve heard about Hyunjin in interrogation rooms before but you’ve never actually seen it.

It’s like he’s dancing with fire so beautifully. He’s twirling a flaming sword with a silver tongue.

“I think Andrea rejected you and then when she never came back for more tutoring, you lost it. You looked up her campus address in the internal systems, because guess what, you have access to that as a tutor, and you went to her dorm room, and you killed her.”

“Wh-What? You’re way off base here, Detective.” Eric stutters, his eye twitches again, his leg starts bouncing under the table.

He pulls on the cuffs keeping him to the table.

Hyunjin you’re so close, come on, come on.

“Funny!” Hyunjin exclaims and slides another piece of paper across the table. “Here’s the search history in the library computer with your login credentials!”

Eric gapes, his mouth opens and closes several times.

“You know what, maybe you didn’t go to Andrea’s dorm with the idea of killing her. Maybe it was a grand romantic gesture, yeah, that seems more like it— flowers and everything.” He slams another picture on the table.

A bouquet of flowers was found at Andrea’s crime scene.

“You presented her with the flowers. And she rejected you. Again. ” Hyunjin’s voice is getting louder and louder, crescendoing with Eric’s anger and heart rate.

Your breathing picks up. Both you and Chief Bang stop moving.

“Stop,” Eric suddenly pleads. His hands shoot up to cover his ears but they’re stopped by the cuffs.

The metal clinks and pulls, they dig into his wrists.

“She rejected you twice! To your face! But you couldn’t take that for an answer. God, why did she do that? Why did she turn you down when you were just trying to be nice? ”

Hyunjin stands up slowly from the table, towering over Eric.

“She was just like her, she was just like that bitch that broke up with you? She tore your heart out and spit on it! She was no better than Leah! So, you knocked her out and you tied her down to her own fucking bed in hopes that she would just hear you out!”

“Stop, stop!”

“Because maybe if she just listened she would understand that you’re just a genuine guy trying to be a good boyfriend to someone! You’re so nice, you’re such a good guy, no one likes good guys anymore, huh? And, of course Leah didn’t see that either!”

“ Stop! ”

“She tried to scream for help, so you killed her. You slit her throat without a second fucking thought for anything! And it felt so fucking good, didnt it? It felt so good to finally take power back from her? So, you didn’t stop.”

Tears spring from Eric’s eyes as he squints them shut, his body physically curling in on itself. He writhes around, unable to get far because of the handcuffs.

“So you kept going, and you went after women who looked just like Leah. And it felt amazing because every single time you could picture her face as you slit their throats. Each and every one of them babbling for mercy, crying out for their mothers, to only choke on their own blood—“

“ FINE! ” Eric screams, slamming his fists on the table. “I killed them. I killed each and every one of the fucking bitches. And I fucking wish I could have killed her too!”

The sudden seemingly endless torrent of sentences comes to a screaming halt.

Hyunjin sits down on his chair once more with a huff.

And just like you did yesterday, he leans back on his chair and knocks once on the window.

It takes you a second to find your voice after witnessing the most amazing, jaw dropping interrogation you’ve ever seen.

“G-Got it!” You say loudly through the glass. “We got it. Oh my god!” You stand up quickly from the chair and turn around to Chief Bang, who has an equally surprised expression. “We got it! ”

He stutters for a moment and shakes his head to clear his mind before speed walking out of the side room to get officers to arrest Eric.

Eric Rowan, who is now pathetically sobbing in his chair.

Eric Rowan who signed his confession with the opposite hand that he’d been using to drink his water.

Eric Rowan who is ambidextrous.

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

It’s so weird to see your kitchen island devoid of files and endless stacks of papers after the last few weeks.

Eric was taken in for booking. Your job was over.

Well, it was over for now. Chief Bang gave you and Hyunjin a week off and then you’re due back in the office for the next case.

Plus, you’ll have to be at Eric Rowan’s trial since you were the lead detective on the case.

So maybe ‘over’ isn’t the best way to describe it.

More soft music plays from your speaker as you clean up the rest of the files. A large t-shirt draped over your body, it practically covers the shorts you have underneath.

There’s a couple knocks on your door. His knocks are so distinct. You’ve gotten so used to them over the past two weeks.

“Come in, Hwang!” you call out.

The door opens and shuts.

“I think I left a few things here,” he says kicking his shoes off in your entryway.

You hum in response, gathering up files to stack them neatly.

His soft footsteps pad up behind you.

“I don’t think I ever saw your countertop, is this granite?” he teases over your shoulder.

You snort a laugh. “Yeah, it is. Came with the place, so don’t ask any more questions.”

Putting the stack down, you turn around and come nose to nose with Hyunjin. He is so much closer than you thought he was.

You jump slightly and back up a bit, your hips hitting the countertop.

Hyunjin doesn’t move.

“I didn’t get to see you after the interrogation,” he says with a quieter voice.

Not able to hold his searing gaze, you look off to the side and cross your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, well, you know how the hustle and bustle can wrap someone up after a case closes. Next thing I knew, Bang was sending me home.”

Hyunjin takes a half step closer to you. “What did you think?”

“Hm?”

“What did you think of the interrogation?”

So many sarcastic, sharp retorts die on your tongue when you remember the conversation that the two of you had earlier.

But still, complimenting him was about as easy as petting a cactus.

“I told you I’m not going to stroke your ego, Hwang.”

He takes another step towards you, both of his arms come up to cage you to the counter.

Heat rises on your cheeks more and more with each passing second. You refuse to meet his eyeline.

“Humor me, L/N. How was my performance today?”

Tonguing your cheek, you roll your eyes. Your heart rate picks up at his proximity. Why does he smell so good?

The last time the both of you had an opportunity to shower was two days ago.

He still smells like aftershave and expensive cologne.

“It was good, okay? You got the guy.”

“ We got the guy, L/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, golden boy, we got him.”

He knows your sarcasm is empty. Just by looking at your flushed face he can tell you don’t mean it.

“Come on now, L/N.” Long, lithe fingers grip your chin and turn your head towards him. “You can do better than that.”

Your jaw clenches. Arousal shoots down your spine like an electric shock.

Fuck.

Closer and closer his alarmingly handsome face inches closer to yours. The beauty mark under his eye seems more prominent than ever.

His mind is one of a brilliant detective, but god, that face. He should’ve been a model.

You bite the inside of your cheek and when you try to look away from his deep eyes, the grin on your jaw tightens.

“Come on, L/N.” He smirks. “Tell me how good I did today. Say it.”

The brat inside you decides to surface. So, he wants to go this route, hm? “Why do you need me to say it so badly, Hwang? Everyone else in the department is so far up your ass, they can wear you like a hat.”

He rolls his eyes, his body pressing against you entirely. Your arms uncross and you reach back to grip the countertop next to his hands.

It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You should be shoving him away, slapping him across the face, spitting on his shoes. But instead you relish in the feeling.

“Yes. But they’re not you. ”

Your eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand. He just needs to break you more.

But does he really?

Finally, he brings his lips closer and closer to yours. He pauses right before he makes contact, giving you a chance to say no.

Nothing of the sort tumbles out.

The first kiss he presses to your lips is nothing short of devouring.

His soft, plush lips consume yours like he’s a starving man at a feast. You meet his enthusiasm with fervor.

Hyunjin’s head tilts to get better access to your mouth. His eyebrows pull together in concentration, he almost looks like he’s in pain.

The fingers on your chin move down to your neck, he wraps his hand around it, thumbs on top of your pulse point, but he doesn’t squeeze.

Your hands tentatively reach for him, grabbing at his dress shirt and tie, pulling him even closer to you.

A small moan comes from the base of his throat and through his nose. Hyunjin’s other hand grabs your hip possessively.

“Say it, L/N,” he hushes between kisses, completely out of breath. “Tell me how good I am.”

How is it that he has this sort of possessive grip on you and yet he’s putting the ball in your court?

A small boost of confidence courses through your veins.

“Can’t you just admit it already?” he adds.

Smirking, you say nothing. One of your hands threads into his long hair and yanks his face back to yours for another bruising kiss.

He huffs through his nose once more, but kisses you nonetheless.

Twirl after twirl of his tie around your hand tightens your grip. With the last tug, Hyunjin moans once more into your mouth. The hand on your throat squeezes a bit.

“L/N,” he pleads again against your lips.

You tug hard on his tie. Hyunjin loses his balance slightly, his knuckles turning white from grabbing your countertop so tight.

Bringing your lips to his ear, you blow hot air on the sensitive skin first. He shivers against your hot body.

At the same time, your bare foot travels up the back of his clothed calf, your thigh brushing against his hip.

“If you want my approval that badly, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Hyunjin makes a choked moan, “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. The hand on your hip tightens. The fingers wrapped around your throat twitch.

“How does that sound, Hwang? You be good to me and I’ll let you know how well you’re doing.” You roll your hips against his.

Your words have an obvious effect on him, the hardness that presses to your leg says it all.

Hyunjins lips drop down to your neck, he bites the soft skin where it meets your shoulder. “Fucking hell, L/N, don’t play hard to get.”

Humming, you roll your head back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your skin. “I’m not playing anything, I already told you how to get what you want.”

Licking and sucking his way down your neck, his teeth nip at your exposed collarbone. The hand on your throat slides backwards and into the hair on the back of your head.

Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth to stop a moan from leaking out. You pull Hyunjin’s tie to keep his face there.

“Just like that, golden boy, your mouth feels so good.”

His hips involuntarily buck into yours at the praise, he whimpers against your skin. “ Shit, ” he curses into your neck with a hot exhale.

You wrap your entire leg around his waist and roll against him more. His mouth stutters, but afterwards he sucks hard . A bright purple hickey already surfaces when he detaches.

“L/N,” he murmurs into your neck. You hum in response. “Can I take this off?” He tugs at your shirt.

You smirk. “You can.”

When your hand unwinds from his tie, Hyunjin backs off of you. His face is already so fucked out; eyes are half-lidded and hazy, his lips are so puffy and swollen, spit glistening off them in the soft kitchen light.

From all your pulling, Hyunjin’s hair is all askew and coming out of its usual ponytail.

He wastes no time, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt and yanking it over your head, he throws it behind him carelessly. His eyes light up at the sight of your bare chest, tongue poking out to lick his already slick lips.

You chuckle.

“You gunna touch me or what?” you tease. “Or maybe you don’t want it that badly.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenches and he meets your eyes. The look he’s giving you is dangerous.

He huffs once and grabs your waist tightly, lifting you up off the ground and sitting you on the cold granite. The sharp temperature change against your flushed skin makes you shiver.

Hyunjin parts your legs and stands between your thighs, his head dips down and envelopes one nipple in his mouth.

“Fuck!” you cry out, grabbing a fist full of his hair.

One of Hyunjin’s hands trails up your leg to grab at your exposed thigh while the other comes up to play with your other perky bud.

His eyes shut in his own pleasure. That tongue is absolutely relentless, licking circles around your nipple to flick over it a few times and then sucking.

Your toes are already curling, legs wrapping around his waist to get him closer to you.

“How about now, L/N?” his hoarse voice whines against your spit covered chest. “Is this good for you? Does it feel good?”

The more he talks, the more you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or genuinely asking for his own sanity.

“It feels fucking amazing, Hwang, keep– shit – keep going.”

Hyunjin takes in a shaky breath and switches sides, your fingers yank on his hair and he whines again around your nipple.

You let him continue for a while, relishing in the feeling of his spit dripping down your chest and onto your navel. The wet licks and sucks bouncing off the walls combined with his own small whines and your loud moans.

Roll after roll of your hips grinds against his hard tent in his dress pants. After a few minutes, your hips seem to have a mind of their own, your soaking wet cunt seeking friction against anything to satiate the need for contact.

The more he licks at your chest, the more Hwang Hyunjin continues to drive you insane.

“H-Hwang,” you pull his attention. His eyebrows furrow as you yank him away from your purple marked chest.

When he finally detaches, he looks up at you, panting.

“Touch me, touch me, please . I can’t fucking take it.”

His shoulders curl forward like you knocked the air out of him.

With more strength than you thought he had, he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his waist while smashing your lips together again.

You cling onto him for dear life while letting your tongues slide over one another.

“Hah,” you pant out in between kisses. “You’re doing so fucking well.”

He whines.

“Could’ve made me cum with just that tongue on my tits. Such a shame.”

Hyunjin drops your body onto the couch without a warning. You squeal and bounce on the soft cushions.

“Hwang–” your voice dies in your throat when you catch the sight of him standing on the other side of the sofa arm.

The change in his demeanor gives you whiplash.

His eyes are dark, almost black. His chest is heaving with heavy pants. Those long fingers are tugging at his tie, until it's loose enough for him to rip off his neck.

Your knees tuck up a bit towards your chest as you watch him with wide eyes like prey.

Hyunjin reaches down and snatches your ankle, he tugs on it harshly. You yelp as you’re dragged forward into a lying position.

Coming around the sofa, he swings one knee over you to straddle your hips. One by one he begins to unbutton his dress shirt, never once breaking eye contact.

Each sliver of skin that is revealed is devoured by your eyes greedily. Never once has he so much as undone the top button on his collar at work.

Shamelessly, you rake in his athletic build.

“You want to cum with just my tongue? Okay, L/N, I can do that.”

Your heart thuds in your chest.

He shrugs his shirt off and drops it to the floor. Hands grab at the waistband of your shorts and yank them off with your panties in one swoop. Another article of clothing to hit the floor.

The cold air against your soaking wet folds makes you hiss slightly.

Hyunjin stares down at your arousal, biting his bottom lip. Lower and lower he descends until you can feel his heavy exhales against your cunt.

He pushes your thighs apart, putting one over his shoulder, your heel settles into the dip of his spine. He’s smirking the entire time.

Finally, he tears his eyes away from your folds to look you right in the eye.

Your jaw clenches and you watch as he licks all the way from your entrance, up to your clit, circles around it to go back down to your entrance again.

An immediate shockwave of pleasure shoots through your body down to your toes. You toss your head back with your mouth agape, a silent scream stretching your lips.

Hyunjin keens at your reaction, doing the same maneuver again before focusing his attention on creating the most sinful figure eights with his tongue.

Your hand flies down to grab at his hair, shoulders arching off the couch. “Shit, shit, H-Hwang, feels so– hah – s-so good.”

He moans into you, the vibrations go right through you.

With your heel on his back, you can feel how his back curves as his hips rut into the couch underneath him to relieve some pressure off his aching cock.

Praises fall from your lips like water falling over rock. Each one makes Hyunjin whine and kick it up a notch.

“That fu- uh -cking silver tongue, holy shit .”

Hyunjin moans loudly, he grabs both of your hips, nails digging into your skin with deep scratches. It only makes you cry out louder, pulling on his hair even harder.

The tie in his hair comes out completely. You toss it away from you and gather up his hair in between your fingers to keep it out of his eyes. It feels like silk.

A coil within you begins winding tighter and tighter. The more he licks and sucks, the higher your cries get and the tighter your abdomen feels.

“Feels so good, it feels fucking amazing ! S-So close! Shit, please make me cum, please, shit!”

Each word makes Hyunjin sutter and moan into your folds, his eyebrows pulled like he’s in pain. Harder and harder he ruts into your sofa, his nails digging into you so much you think he might draw blood.

It’s taking every ounce of his will not to spill out in his pants at your praise. At your begging .

One of his hands comes up and kneads at your chest. His thumb rubs over your nipple a few times and that’s all it takes for the band within you to finally snap.

Your orgasm washes over you so hard it’s like being hit by a bus.

With a silent cry, your entire body tenses up. Hyunjin’s movements slow down, but he still coaxes you through your climax with that skilled tongue of his.

He hums into your folds, licking up every last drop of your juices.

You come down from your high slowly, chest heaving up and down, every exhale is paired with a moan. Shockwaves still ripple through your thighs.

Hyunjin’s eyes open and he stares at you, his mouth going over to bite your inner thigh. You squeal and squirm.

Slowly, like a lion, he gets up and crawls over your form, keeping eye contact. Once he’s close enough, he captures your lips greedily. Your arousal is still all over his tongue. It’s swapped between the two of you with your spit.

Your hands reach down and fumble with his belt buckle. Hyunjin makes no move to stop you, instead, he pushes you further.

“Look at that,” he pants, looking down at your fumbling hands. “So desperate for my cock, huh, L/N?”

Your eyebrow twitches. You undo the buckle and reach down to grab his rock hard erection through his pants.

Hyunjin’s elbows buckle at your touch and he grunts, squinting his eyes shut.

“All talk, aren’t you? Once I touch you, you crumble .”

“Shit!” His eyes snap open and he bucks into your hand. “Because– ugh –, like I said, it’s you . Fuck ,” he moans when you squeeze him again over his pants.

“Keep going,” you tease. “Keep going and I’ll keep stroking this fucking monster cock you keep tucked in these pressed dress pants of yours.”

He exhales shakily while you unbutton his trousers.

“When were you ever going to fucking– agh – realize that you drive me fucking insane, L/N?” His eyes start to unfocus when you push down the waistband of his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Fucking hell . Has he always been packing this?

“God damn, Hwang.” Your hand runs up his length. Hyunjin shudders and closes his eyes. Your touch is so featherlight he thinks he’s going insane.

His eyebrows twitch and hips buck forward to try and reach your touch.

“I’m not hearing a lot of talking.” You lean up and attach your lips to his neck, continuing to only trail the gentlest of touches up and down his throbbing cock.

The head is red and angry and weeping precum.

His body trembles. “ Shit – I wanted you for so long, L/N. You drive me– fuck – insane. Every single fucking day I did whatever it fucking took to get your attention.”

Finally, your hand wraps around his length tightly and you start pumping very slowly. The long, pathetic moan that tumbles from Hyunjin’s lips is something of sin.

He sounds so relieved yet even more aroused at the same time.

You continue to suck your own marks onto his perfect skin. Sweat drips down the side of his face and down his now slick back.

“ Ughhh – L-L/N…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hand stops moving when he stops talking.

He cries out into your neck, hips frantically bucking into your touch to chase it. You only chuckle in response.

“ Please! ” He whimpers.

“Keep going then, golden boy.” You suck a sensitive spot underneath his ear.

Another stutter of his hips.

“I begged the chief to put me on your case!”

Your pumping picks up speed again, his entire body rolls into yours. You grip him tighter and jerk him faster.

“I said– ah – I would do whatever case he wanted next if he– ffuuck – let me work with you on this one– oh my god! And I still would, I would do whatever– mmmph – case I need to to fucking work with you every day. Agh! ”

Despite your outwards nonchalant expression, on the inside, his words are fucking killing you. The throb in your cunt that was satiated moments ago comes back with a vengeance.

To hear Hwang Hyunjin at your mercy is going straight to your core. Each noise he makes goes straight to your pussy.

“God, fuck , L/N, I-I’m close. Please, god , shit.”

After a few more pumps, you stop, taking your hand away completely. Hyunjin cries into the crook of your neck again, his body rolling and rutting the air at the loss of contact.

“Please, why, fucking hell , I was so close!”

You grab the hair on the back of his head and yank his head up to look down at you. His eyes are cloudy, ears and cheeks bright red. Sweat drips down the side of his face and over his sharp cheekbones and jawline.

“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?”

His face twists up with another moan.

Hyunjin dives down and captures your lips in the sloppiest kiss of the night. He’s messy and desperate the longer he kisses you.

While trying to stay attached to your lips, Hyunjin fumbles around to kick off his pants and boxers.

Both of you finally naked together, he grabs his cock in his fist.

“I-I’m not going to last–”

You cut him off with a sharp tug to his hair. “Fuck me, golden boy, don’t you think you deserve it after today?”

His eyes practically roll back in his head.

As soon as he’s lined up with your entrance, Hyunjin slides into you slowly. Inch by inch you’re stretched open,

He might not be thick but god, he is long .

With his mouth on yours, he swallows each moan and cry of pleasure. Without wasting any amount of time, he pulls out to slam back into you.

Both of you moan out together.

Your arm wraps around his neck. He rests his weight on one elbow and the other wraps around your shoulders to hug you close to him. His hand splays out between your shoulder blades to keep you anchored against his sweat slicked chest.

The skin to skin contact sends both of you wild.

Over and over again his hips undulate to thrust into you in the most delicious way. The angle of his hips brushes his pelvic bone against your clit with each slam against you.

“You feel so fucking good,” you whine into his ear.

Hyunjin’s next thrust hits a bit harder. If praise makes him fuck you harder, then so be it.

“God, your cock is amazing.” Harder. “Hitting me just right.” Harder. “Never knew you would feel this fucking good.”

With his mouth on your neck, he leaves sloppy hickeys wherever he can reach. His pants fill the room and mix with your whines.

His head suddenly dips down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. You keen and toss your head back, hips canting up. The new angle has his cock slam right into your g-spot.

A loud scream tears from your lips. Hyunjin immediately picks up on this and picks up the pace, making sure he hits that spot every time.

If you thought your first orgasm had a sudden build up, it’s nothing compared to this one. There’s a sudden pressure increasing in your lower stomach.

“Fuck!” Thrust . “So good!” Thrust. “Oh my god!”

Praises and noises fall from you, you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. The pleasure has your mind in the clouds.

“Y/N,” the sudden use of your name grabs your attention. Hyunjin comes up over your face with a pleasure twisted face.

“Say it, please, please , I’m fucking begging you , please, say it.”

Your eyebrows pull together, mouth still hanging open. What does he want you to say that you haven’t said already?

“ My name. Say it, please, please, please, please–”

Oh, fuck.

You smirk and watch as the desperation drives him wild. Even in the deepest throes of pleasure, you string him along for a few more seconds as you approach the edge.

Closer and closer you come to the edge.

He whines, begging louder and louder as his own climax creeps up on him, the muscles in his body tightening more and more.

He needs it so bad.

“Y/N! Please! ”

Just as you’re about to tumble over, your mouth stretches open.

“Fuck, Hyunjin! ”

The loudest moan you’ve ever heard from a man comes falling out of his mouth as he buries his face into your neck. Hot, sticky warmth shoots within you in long, drawn out spurts that match with Hyunjin’s whines and groans.

His hips stutter for another twenty seconds before his moans finally calm down.

Both of you hold onto each other tightly, heaving heavy inhales and exhales to catch your breath.

Absent-mindedly, your hand begins to rub up and down Hyunjin’s clammy back, drawing small circles and lines onto his skin.

He hums into your neck and holds you closer for a moment before collapsing onto the couch on top of you.

Surprisingly, his weight on top of you doesn’t seem to phase you; instead it brings the same comfort as a weighted blanket.

After a few more minutes of you silently rubbing his back, Hyunjin begins to lazily press kisses onto your bruise covered chest, paying extra attention to your collarbones.

The kisses are soft and sweet, nothing like the lust coated ones from before.

“Did you mean it?” you ask him quietly.

He pauses his kisses only to answer you. “Mean what?” He starts kissing you more.

“That you asked Bang to work on the case.”

He chuckles against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. “Oh, yeah. It took entirely too much convincing.”

You laugh with him and keep him close to your body.

In the back of your mind, you know you should get up, that he should pull out and the two of you should shower and drink water, but you can’t seem to distance yourself from him.

There’s no harm in sitting there for a while anyway.

Hyunjin hums into your neck again, “Thank god we have the week off.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic

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dokries · 2 months ago

Text

all my love

pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mentions of drinking (reader is not present), crying drunk hoshi (and seokmin), jeonghan is the devil personified /hj, allusions to the movie drawing closer (2024), love confessions, use of baby

author note: this was a birthday gift for my beloved @m00n1sms ‎♡ eishi, i love you!! thanks for giving me permission to post this :> this was also written shortly after i watched a movie that caused a headache because i cried too much (drawing closer) and i needed to incorporate it in here because i love it <3 lots of love and i hope you enjoy :D

masterlist

seungcheol swears he’s not in love with you.

actually, he’s insistent on it, even when his friends raise an eyebrow and laugh it off…which is what’s happening right now, at their monthly dinner—hey, it’s harder than it looks to gather all thirteen of them for a simple dinner and as the adopted father, he makes sure that there’s always one every single month.

“you’re in love, aren’t you?” soonyoung giggles, and half of the group joins in to laugh at seungcheol’s pouty face.

“hey!” seungcheol protests as he slams down the shot glass of what was once filled with soju down. “stop accusing me of things that aren’t true!”

jeonghan raises an eyebrow beside him and before seungcheol can question his best friend’s actions, soonyoung starts crying.

“how would you feel if you were them, and you didn’t get to see your crush anymore cause he was avoiding you and his feelings for you?” soonyoung sniffles and mingyu wraps an arm around his drunk friend to soothe him, bringing soonyoung into his chest.

seungcheol stares at the two of them before sighing because no matter how many glasses soonyoung had drunk already—which seemed to be way too many—he might have a point, one seungcheol isn't ready to admit.

jeonghan sips his beer quietly before stating bluntly, “you should hang out with them on thursday.”

“what?” seungcheol turns to face him before blinking.

“we were supposed to go to this little flower bouquet workshop on thursday and i really don’t think they would mind if you went instead of me.” jeonghan says casually as he puts down his glass.

he turns to look lazily at his hopelessly in love friend, and sighs. “besides, they think something is up with you…just don’t make it obvious, okay?”

“make what obvious?” seungcheol looks at jeonghan curiously.

“that you love them!” seokmin chimes in from the other end of the long table, getting up so seungcheol can hear him better (he’s drunk as well, just like soonyoung).

seungcheol slumps, pouring himself another drink, already knowing by jeonghan’s evil giggle and glance with joshua that it’s going to be a long night for him especially.

if one thing’s for sure, you weren’t expecting seungcheol to show up at your door with a bouquet of flowers after ghosting you for a week. well, he did say work had become busier but still (it’s easier to be petty than confront your feelings, especially when his hair is all fluffy and his smile is apologetic).

“here,” seungcheol gives you the white orchids with a nervous smile, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that didn’t just brush against yours.

“where’s jeonghan?” you stare down at the bouquet before up at him with a raised eyebrow, ignoring the way your heart beats at the small note that says “i’m sorry :(” tucked into the paper wrap.

confused, seungcheol takes his phone out and points to it. “did he not text you?”

you shake your head before letting seungcheol in so he doesn’t have to stand outside awkwardly any longer, grabbing your phone as you tell him to get comfortable on the couch in your living room.

you ❙

jeonghan where are you and why is s**ngch**l here instead ‎♡

wow that’s a lot of censoring

scum of the earth hellspawn <3 ❙

hehe

you ❙

is that your only response??

i know where you live. do not play with me yoon jeonghan.

scum of the earth hellspawn <3 ❙

fine fine

i’ll explain myself

he’s my replacement for today 😇

just thought you two losers needed to spend time together and you know…actually talk 💀

have fun! thank me later

okay, so basically jeonghan’s being a menace like usual. that’s okay, you’re used to it—but why does he have to involve poor helpless seungcheol in this? you turn to look at the man who’s mindlessly toying with the hem of his blue shirt as he waits for you.

ah, seungcheol. where do you start with him?

originally, you knew him through jeonghan, one of the few mutual friends you had until you got introduced to the whole group after sharing a university class. now out of that hellscape, you’ve stayed somewhat close with all of them, often being invited to the little get-togethers they do once every few months at jeonghan and seungkwan’s shared place, and that is where you met the man of your dreams (all while jeonghan was taking a heavy nap, actually; maybe jeonghan had a vision of bringing his two friends together).

as you sit beside him, seungcheol clears his throat, unsure of where to start. “so…”

you turn your body towards him, encouraging seungcheol to continue with a nod of your head. he blinks before clearing his throat again, though this time his tone is less apprehensive. “i’m sorry i didn’t reply to your texts. i just…”

“…couldn’t handle social contact unless you were forced into it by a certain devil?” you pick up where he pauses, and he cracks a smile at your joke. “yeah i thought so.”

seungcheol’s too scared he’ll accidentally confess if he reveals why he really didn’t say anything back to your numerous well wishes, so he nods with a bittersweet smile, scolding himself in his head for thinking today will be any different from a friend date.

you glance over at the flowers he’s just given you, now secure in a spare vase you had sitting around as you made sure to give them a home before messaging jeonghan, and chuckle, unknowingly lifting seungcheol’s spirits. “you do know we’re going to a flower bouquet making workshop, right?”

“oh. well…” he freezes before pursing his lips and hiding his head in his hands. of course, he completely forgot that you are literally going to the all my love flower shop jeonghan had suggested going to earlier for apology flowers…he did that on purpose, didn’t he?

you smile, shaking your head at his embarrassment. “it’s okay cheol, don’t worry. you can just make me another one to make up for all those days you ghosted me!”

seungcheol winces again but sighs in relief at how casually you mention it; maybe you aren’t that mad after all? he knows he couldn’t be frustrated with you anyway since he is to blame after all, and the little grin on your face as you hold out a hand to help lift him up being one he missed dearly is one he can’t be angry at.

“seungcheol, you’re clipping them all wrong! they’re never gonna last once you put them in water at that rate.”

seungcheol turns to you, his eye twitching at the nagging he’s had to endure once you started the small class. set in the exact same flower shop as the one he entered earlier—the workers gave him a curious glance before noticing you beside him and giving him a wink, making his ears red—the two of you had been led to a small section of the store where there were small pristine tables laid out with newspaper and scissors, as well as things he eventually learned how to use, like the book of flowers and their meanings, which is now serving as a barrier in the middle of the table.

he says your name impatiently before sighing to himself, wondering what jeonghan has gotten him into. “hey, i’m trying my best, okay! besides the instructor said it was fine since it’s my first bouquet anyway.”

“well, i wanna keep it forever since you made it for me, so i need it to be a bouquet that lasts!” you complain, frowning at seungcheol’s dismissive words before immediately turning to your own work in front of you, choosing to ignore your slight slip up.

seungcheol clears his throat before looking over at what you have so far and lets out an begrudgingly appreciative hum. “that’s pretty good actually.”

“aw thanks, cheol!” you smile at him and he suddenly feels like the already vibrant flowers in front of him became so much brighter in just an instant.

he grins to himself, humming softly as he organizes the gerberas in front of him into a small pile; there’s only three of them anyway, all warm colours that match you perfectly.

you had questioned the amount of flowers he had taken and he answered with “it’s easier to handle,” which you thought was a believable excuse. however, he’s taking a page from the book of the movie drunk seokmin had cried about at their gathering the other day, and plans to give you exactly three gerberas, a love confession and one of loyalty, which is something he’s always been to you.

of course, he seems to think you have no idea, and he’s dead wrong. you exhale a shaky breath as you finish up your own bouquet, a collection of the flowers you found pretty while looking at what the shop offers. however, though you’re unaware of it, you also have the same idea to seungcheol’s: using gerberas like in the movie drawing closer to confess your love shyly.

the six gerberas, all ranging from deep reds to cheerful yellows, are arranged in the middle with several other small filler flowers surrounding them, thanks to the help of the instructor who picked them out for you with a wink, knowing what the two of you are up to.

assuming seungcheol is oblivious about the meaning of his own arrangement, you give a content nod to him once he finishes, wrapping up the flowers in probably the prettiest newspaper you’ve ever seen—it’s decorated with flowers and small doodles that match the simplicity of the bouquet he’s created, and he can’t help but smile as you finish up your own with a small bow with twine.

the instructor waves you over to the counter at the front of the store to pay with a smile, and rings you up as seungcheol offers to pay with a sheepish smile, still trying to make up for not being with you for the last week.

“oh my god, these are so cute! i can’t believe you both love each other so much…” the employee points to your hard work and gushes over it as you watch in horror. “like using these to say ‘i’m crazy over you’? that’s genius, especially when you consider how your boyfriend’s bouquet is him confessing he loves you!”

“you two are so versed in the language of flowers, and i’m guessing you watched drawing closer as well! such a tragic love story but i’m guessing it makes you grateful for your own relationship, am i right?” she squeals before handing you your respective bouquets, ushering you out of the all my love flower shop with a “have a nice day, lovebirds!”

you turn to seungcheol and are surprised at how red his face is, his cheeks rivalling your own. maybe…it would be a good idea to just roll with what the nosy shopkeeper was saying, considering it’s true—at least, for you.

you thrust out the bouquet in your shaky hands towards him. “this…is for you, and it’s just like she said.” you clear your throat, since it dries at the sheer adoration in seungcheol’s eyes once you meet them. “i’m crazy in love with you and your short temper, your caring nature and well, just you.”

he takes your bouquet in the hand that’s not holding his own with a smile that’s growing bigger by the second, and you get the courage to continue. “i’ve been holding this off so long because i was scared you didn’t feel the same way, and i…i guess i really hope that lady was right about your flowers.”

seungcheol gulps, giving you the bouquet crafted specifically for you, and sighs, covering the hand you’re using to hold it. “she was totally right…i’m in love with you too, and i’ve already tried denying it.”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “the guys were all right; i was hurting you by not being direct, and i hope that you’ll forgive me for that. this,” he looks down at the three flowers in your now interlocked hands, “is my way of confessing that i want to be by your side, if you’ll let me.”

you grin with him and nod, bringing your heads closer to touch your foreheads together as seungcheol giggles. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, baby.” he replies instantly, leaving no room for hesitation like he has so many times before, and you turn red at the pet name. just before seungcheol can comment on how cute you are, he’s interrupted by a voice from behind you, and the two of you freeze.

“um, so sorry to interrupt your moment but you’re blocking the entryway of the shop,” the employee says, peeking her head out of the building you had just exited with a sheepish smile.

you and seungcheol exchange a glance before apologizing furiously and walking off in search of a bench to rest, with one of your hands holding the other’s, and one holding your now blossomed love.

#dokries works #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #choi seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol scenarios #scoups fluff #scoups x reader #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines

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rangerbarbz · 2 months ago

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Serving Up Romance pt. 3

Author's Note: guys this semester has been raw dogging me tbh. curse my damn zoology classes. anyways love being a woman in stem and I love Stan Pines. I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO COME OUT IVE BEEN SO BUSY. ALSO I AM SO HONORED AND THANKFUL FOR ALL THE KIND RESPONSES YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO ME <3 (If there's typos my bad im running on like 2% capacity and horny)

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this eager to get home. The car ride back to your house was mainly spent in comfortable silence between you and Stan. That was alright, though. His hand was on your knee drawing lazy circles with his thumb while you played with the hair at the nape of his neck. It was pure bliss.

The radio then started to play a love song that you couldn’t remember the name of anymore. You smiled and began to sing along quietly, tapping to the beat of the song on Stan’s skin. You heard him chuckle.

“Sorry, I’m doing a drum solo on your neck,” you joked, increasing the speed of your tapping. He grinned, still looking at the road.

“S’alright.” He then looked over at you fondly. “I like your singing, by the way. Ya got a voice that matches your face” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“I don’t know about that, but thank you,” you replied.

You soon saw the familiar opening of your driveway. Stan parked his Diablo behind your car. He then unbuckled his seatbelt at the speed of light and flung open his door. He jogged to the passenger side to open the door for you. He stood with his back straight like he was your bodyguard.

You giggled, stepping out of the car. “You’re real chivalrous, Pines,” you cooed, patting his cheek.

He winked at you. “I did my homework.”

“Well,” you stood on your tip-toes to whisper in his ear, “let’s see how you do on the final exam.” You swore you could feel the heat from his blush radiating off him.

“Yes, well, I hope, I mean- I will pass,” he stammered as you took hold of his hand. You guided him up your front porch stairs to unlock the door. Once you were inside, you both began to kick your shoes off. “Nice digs you got here, doll. I especially like this thing.” He had walked over to your dining table while you were still unstrapping your sandals to pick up a clay structure you had found at an antique store. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was colorful and was a perfect centerpiece.

You figured he was being sarcastic so you responded, “Aw, leave it alone!”

He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “What? I’m being serious. I like art. There’s a reason I’m banned at museums.” You laughed and threw your shoe on the floor. You crossed over to him as he continued to examine it to wrap yourself around his midsection. He hummed and set the piece down to caress your forearms.

You kissed his back through the fabric of his button-up. “You wanna go to my room?” you asked softly. He turned around and swiftly picked you up, your legs hooking around his waist. Your eyes were as wide as saucers, face beginning to flush. His hands were digging into your thighs to support you; they felt rough against your soft flesh.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he mumbled, planting kisses on your jawline.

“L-last door on the right,” you squeaked. He started to walk carefully with you in his arms to your room before laying you down on your bed. His cheeks were tinged a light pink as his lips met yours once again. He kissed you firmly, his forearms bracing himself on either side of your head. You snaked your arms around his torso to pull him closer to you while your tongue slipped past his lips. He tasted like the cheap cigars he got from the Dusk-2-Dawn in town, but you needed to taste more of him.

Your hands moved to his dark hair, entangling it in your fingers. You groaned as the kiss became more sloppy. His right hand dragged down the side of you, outlining your waist and hip and eventually stopping to grip the outside of your thigh. Stan then broke the kiss to take a look at you. Your makeup had been smudged and your hair was spilling out behind your head. You were a vision.

“Fuck,” Stan groaned, resting his head in the crook of your neck. His finger slipped underneath the strap of your dress. “Can I take this off? Please?” His voice was dripping with lust as he kissed you gently on your cheek. Oh, shit was this really happening? You talked big game outside, but now that it got down to it, you were getting a little nervous.

“Uh, yes. Let me get up real quick.” He rolled off of you to let you stand up, your back facing towards him. You began to unzip your dress, but it got stuck at the top of the zipper.

“Oh, hold on, sweetheart. I got you.” Stan stood up to maneuver the slider so that it went down easier. You bit your lip to suppress the grin forming over something so domestic. “There we go,” he said, unzipping your dress the rest of the way. This was still Stan. You had nothing to be worried about.

“Thank you,” you murmured, turning to face him. His eyebrows lifted as you let the dress fall from your shoulders and crumple on the shoulder. Both of you were blushing from the vulnerability of the situation. You stood before him in a lacy bra push-up bra and matching light pink panties.

He swallowed hard. “I, wow,” he ran his hands through his hair and exhaled, “you’re…beautiful.” You gave him a wide smile.

“Your turn now, handsome.” You kissed him and began to unbutton his shirt one by one while his hands slid down your back. His hands began to wander over your hips, waist, and down to your butt where he squeezed roughly. He swallowed the squeak you made by colliding his lips with yours. His shirt fell to the floor showing off a broad, hairy chest. You ran your fingers through the coarse hair before grasping onto his burly shoulders for balance. His teeth and tongue fought with yours while he sat on the edge of the bed, bringing you into his lap.

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” Stan whispered, fumbling with the hook of your bra. You felt some light pressure as it came undone. He tossed it to the floor with the growing pile of clothes. His eyes then became transfixed on your breasts. You saw him swallow and his face turned an even deeper shade of red.

“Are they okay?” you asked self-consciously.

His eyes met yours immediately. “Okay?” He glanced back down at your breasts and the back at you. “Babe, they’re…” he shook his head, “they’re fucking smokin’.” Your laughter from his blunt compliment was cut off by a sharp inhale. His lips had latched on to your right nipple while he fondled the other breast vigorously. Your fingers weaved into his hair, nails scraping at his scalp, and his tongue swirling over your areola.

“Stan…” you breathed, grinding down on the bulge in his blue jeans. He had started to repeat his same ministrations on your other nipple, giving it a gentle bite. You yelped; he looked up at you with that shit-eating grin that said Ha, I made you make that sound. He then pulled you to him as he laid his back against the comforter of your bed.

“You mind if I take these off, doll?” Stan asked, tugging at the waistband of your panties. You grinned.

“I don’t mind,” you replied. “What are you gonna do when they’re off?”

Stan rolled his eyes playfully. “Not tellin’.” He carefully slid his panties over the globes of your ass. “That’ll ruin the surprise.” He suddenly flipped you over so that your positions were switched. He smirked at the surprised expression on your face. “Learned that from boxing,” he joked, now watching as he removed your panties the rest of the way. He licked his lips; the lacy material grazing your calf. He eventually set them at the end of the bed, eyes never leaving your molten core.

“Stan?” you asked. His eyes darted to meet yours. His pupils were insanely dilated…Hungry even.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just… Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Would you mind if I…” his voice trailed off. He leaned down to peck at your kneecap. Oh.

“Oh, you mean, like oral?” you stammered.

“I mean like eating you out,” Stan clarified. So you were right.

“Y-you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t mind, but don’t you want me to take care of you?” To be honest, you weren’t used to guys putting you first.

Stan frowned. “Toots, I have been thinking about your legs around my head all night. This is for me as much as it is for you.” You felt every part of your body heat up.

“Oh, okay then. Yes, I think that would be very enjoyable,” you replied nervously, unsure of how to respond. Stan laughed before placing his hands at your thighs to gently part your legs further.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he murmured, head moving down to leave open-mouthed kisses up your leg. His hands were splayed on the outside of your thighs; his mouth was slowly inching to where you needed him most. Your breath shuddered, clutching the sheets to brace yourself for his touch.

“So pretty,” Stan groaned, pressing his lips against your labia. You gasped at the contact, making him chuckle. “So wet for me, too.” His big hands moved to your hips while the tip of his tongue teased your slit. He then pulled you closer to his mouth to give your swollen clit the attention it needed so badly. He swirled his tongue around the bud carefully, the pads of his fingers sinking into your hips.

“Oh, God,” you cried out. You quickly covered your mouth with the palms of both your hands out of embarrassment.

“Uh, uh,” Stan chastised. He lifted his head to gently take your wrists and uncover your face. “I want to hear everything.” He then positioned your hands to the back of his head. “And don’t be afraid to take what you want, sweetheart.” Stan delved back into your cunt, not being as tender as he was before. He was fucking you with his tongue, tasting every bit of you that he could.

You gripped his hair and squeezed your thighs around his head. “Stan! Please,” you exclaimed, “don’t stop.” You were now grinding your clit against his strong nose, hips swiveling to their own accord. Stan sighed dreamily, using the flat of his tongue to lick a stripe up your pussy. You accidentally tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck causing him to let out what can only be described as a guttural whimper. That was the cause of your undoing. The build-up developing in your abdomen reached its peak by gushing onto Stan’s mouth and sending shockwaves through your body.

When you came down from your high, Stan was laying there wide-eyed in awe of what he had just witnessed. “That…” he breathed, “was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He laid his head on your stomach and gave it a quick peck. “Ya know, if you’re up to it, I got a rubber in my-”

“Yes,” you interjected. “I need to feel you in me right now.”

“Oh, alright. Hold on let me just,” he fumbled over his words, reaching into his pocket to reveal a worn leather wallet. He pulled out a square golden wrapper and ripped it open with his teeth. You crawled over to him to unbuckle his belt, kneeling at the end of the bed.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this,” you confessed, unzipping his pants and pulling them down.

“Oh, fuck,” Stan groaned as you exposed his throbbing cock form his boxers. It was painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip. You wrapped your lips around it, sucking it slightly before dragging your tongue down his shaft. He threw his head back as you used your fingers to fondle his balls gently and take him further into your mouth. His fingers wove into the hair above your ear, cradling your head. You gazed up at him to see his face flushed and eyelids hooded.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not gonna last much longer like this, and I really want to feel ya,” Stan apologized. You nodded and removed your mouth from his cock so he could slide the condom on. You laid down on the bed and let him hover over you, lining himself up with your entrance. This was really happening.

“Okay, I’m about to put it in. Just, let me know if I hurt ya, okay? Let me know what feels good too,” Stan instructed lovingly. He caged your head in with his forearms and gave you a sweet kiss. You then felt pressure in your lower half of Stan entering you. You and Stan gasped in unison at the feeling.

“Stan,” you breathed. “You feel…so good.” He started to move his hips back and forth, eyes studying your face and how it scrunched up in pleasure.

“You do too, Y/N. Oh, God.” His pace began to pick up. He looked from side to side at your arms in search of something to anchor him. He interlocked your hands in his and put his head in the crook of your neck, grunting into your skin. It was so much. It was so sensual. He made you feel so beautiful. That familiar feeling was approaching as his hips slammed into yours. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and starting to shake.

“I’m almost there, Stan.”

Stan’s eyes met yours, his hair a mess and sweat starting to bead at his temples. “Come on, baby, let me feel it. Give it to me,” he begged. Once again, his gruff voice was the cause of your intense orgasm. You screamed his name while he chased his own. His thrusts were no longer uniform but sloppy.

You felt his body tense up and relax as he came. He pressed his forehead into the valley of your breasts and just breathed. You played with his hair absentmindedly, still feeling the effects of your own orgasms.

He eventually pulled himself from you, making you feel empty. He went to the bathroom to toss the used condom and came back to hold you flush to his chest. He kissed along the shell of your ear and held you by your waist.

“Breakfast is on me in the morning,” Stan whispered. “I’ll make you my special: Stancakes.”

You burst into a fit of giggles as you shifted your body to face him. He was giving you a dopey smile. You planted a kiss on his nose. “Can’t wait.”

People who wanted to be tagged (i love y’all): @lucas1253 @vitality-falls @daniel-meyer-03 @marvelous-maniac @daisysinadarkmedow @lordbelkamort @mayhaps-nerd @ziragus

#gravity falls #ford pines #stanford pines #grunkle ford #grunkle stan #stanley pines #ford pines x reader #imagine #pines family #smut #stan pines x you #stan pines x reader #stan pines #book of bill #fluff #gravity falls fandom #gravity falls fanfiction

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eliorabunny · 4 months ago

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bags

clairo boy no further explanation needed thank u! friend!matt x fem!reader

𐀔⋆✩*｡‧“can you see me / i’m waiting for the right time” ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

𖦹 genre: fluff, friends to lovers ʚ♡ɞ

𖦹 warnings: mentions of alcohol, some swearing, suggestive at the end

𖦹 word count: 769 𖧧

𖦹 a/n: c l a i r o ! b o y ! ur telling me that first pic isn’t him. don’t play ‼️ i may do a continuation of this and get a little nsfw but only if u beg💋 ily xoxo🐇 ᵕ̈ ̤̮

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌❀°✩⋆ʚ♡ɞ⋆✩°❀﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“i don’t wanna watch tv anymore,” she mumbled.

matt looked over, a confused expression drawing his eyebrows together as he reached for the remote. “is everything okay?”

the two had been enjoying dinner and sitcom reruns, but she was growing tired of the unresolved tension. for the past few months, they would get together and share innocent cozy nights. she had reached out to matt after reconnecting at a high school reunion, and they discovered they had much more in common (mainly, a love of red wine and music on vinyl).

“yeah, i just wanna sit for a sec,” she responded idly, her mind in a rose-colored trance. her goal tonight was to confess her blossoming feelings, but nerves were getting the best of her. “maybe some wine?” matt nodded and smiled sweetly at her. fuck, that smile. her shoulders relaxed slightly and she watched as he grabbed the bottle of cabernet and two glasses.

she pulled a pillow to her stomach and brought her foot onto the couch cushion, resting her cheek on her knee and taking in the sight of matt’s fingers curled around the bottle. he pushed up the sleeves of his cream-colored cable knit sweater, and his forearms flexed as he poured their drinks. something in her stomach flipped. she turned her head away, trying to hide the slight blush forming across her cheeks. matt’s rings clinked softly against the bowls of the glasses, and he took care not to grip too harshly.

“do you want me to put on an album?” matt suggested, placing the drinks down gingerly on the coffee table. she inhaled deeply and nodded. “could you get Blue?”

“good pick,” matt murmured as he skimmed through the record crate. he found the classic indigo cover and pulled the vinyl out of its sleeve, setting it carefully on the turntable.

⋆

joni mitchell’s velvety voice skimmed across the room and covered the two in a haze, a reflection of the snowy blanket resting on the streets outside. the radiator worked overtime as the bitter northeast cold snuck in through a cracked window. a biting breeze slid along the stripe of skin between her henley and pajama pants, and she shuddered. matt’s eyes widened as she absentmindedly moved closer to him on the couch.

perhaps it was the multiple refills of wine, or the proximity, but he suddenly felt bolder. he had been avoiding his own burgeoning feelings for her, afraid to taint a healthy friendship. tonight felt different somehow. they had fallen asleep together on the couch many a time, dozing off mid-conversation, but this was more delicate. an unnamed purity shattered; some sort of barrier between them had fallen this time around.

wrapping an arm around her shoulders, matt pulled her towards him and grabbed the throw blanket that was draped along the seat back. “are you cold?” he asked pointlessly, taking her fingers in his. “let me warm you up.”

her heart rate quickened at his words. did he mean to say it like that? she giggled nervously, turning to look him in the eyes, and found a sincerity the color of denim. “c’mere,” he hummed, tugging at her shirt childishly and leaning back so his head rested on the arm of the couch. she obliged, blushing from the wine (or so she’d say), and settled on top of him, resting her ear over his heart. he hoped it wasn’t beating too loudly, and she hoped he couldn’t feel her second heartbeat against his thigh.

one by one, matt removed his rings and placed them on the coffee table next to the empty glasses. she could have sworn he let out a quiet hiss when he leaned over, and she adjusted her hips subconsciously. his hands found their way around her waist, fingertips exploring the bottom hem of her shirt. “is this okay?” he whispered as he slid long fingers beneath the fabric, the contact sending tingles across her lower back. she sighed shakily and managed to breathe out a quiet “yes.”

a relieved smile spread across matt’s face, and he was grateful she couldn’t see him in that moment. he pressed gently on her back, pulling her flush to him and creating a treacherous friction. his other hand squeezed the pillowy flesh above her hip, as if kneading dough.

“what was the name you were talking about the other day?” his question caught her off guard. just yesterday, someone had brought up pet names in conversation, and she’d mentioned that her favorite was “bunny.” he pretended to forget it a little longer, before speaking down into her hair.

“you feel so soft, bunny.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌❀°✩⋆ʚ♡ɞ⋆✩°❀﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #clairo #sturniolo fanfic #bags #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #i know everything about bags sweetheart #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #Spotify #xoxo🐇#friends to lovers #matt x reader #fluff #joni mitchell #bags by clairo

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

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JJK men sharing a bed with (y/n) part lll

In case you haven't read the other parts yet, here they are: JJK men sharing a bed with (y/n) part l Satoru Gojo sharing a bed with (y/n) at a love hotel (part ll)

This is the first time ever that I'm writing for Yu and Choso, so please let me know what you think<3

Pairing: Toji x reader; Geto x reader; Yu Haibara x reader; Choso x reader

Word Count: 3,7k

Warnings: Some language, a loooot of fluff in every part!

Toji Fushiguro

You blink against your heavy lids, head pounding the second you are greeted the dim light of the room. Immediately, your body starts shivering from the cold that prevails wherever you are. What happened? How did you end up here? It looks like you’re in a basement, a stony and dirty one. Your trembling figure lays on top of a bed as it seems, feet chained to the frame. Fuck, how did you end up here?

“Oh, look who’s awake. Did take you quite some time, sweetheart.”

His voice sounds distant and unpromising, the cheeky tone vibrating in it sending shivers down your spine immediately

“Where am I?”, you question with surprisingly firm voice.

“Hm, to be honest I’m not sure. Are you comfy or do you need company?”

He steps into your sight and your breath hitches for a split second. Yes, the man standing in front of you is extremely handsome, with shoulders built like cannonballs and his tight shirt that shows every trained muscle of his body. And that face…oh, what a lovely face. But the darkness that radiates from his eyes makes your stomach drop. This man means nothing but trouble.

“Touch me once with your filthy hands and I’ll slice it off”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Desperately, your worn out body fights against the chains on your ankles as his frame draws closer, but there’s absolutely no chance for you to escape.

“I wonder how long it will take Jujutsu High to get that you’re gone”, he comments, hand gripping your chin firmly so you are forced to stare into his cold eyes.

“Huh, you’re quite handsome. No wonder that Gojo boy likes to spend time with you. You’re quite feisty though.”

You forcefully pull away from him and stare down at your shivering figure. They will find you, right? They just have to…

“Comfy, huh? I’m actually a little worn out myself, would you mind to scoot over a bit?”

“Stay. Away. From. Me.”

Your words are like venom, eyes so dangerously flashing at him that Toji escapes a chuckle.

“Your cold, bet I can warm you up a little.”

He doesn’t give a fuck about your little protest. Instead, he pushes you against the wall and lays besides you, body’s forced to touch inside the small bed.

You can’t help it. Before you get a grip of yourself, your cheeks turn dark red while you gaze at him through glittering eyes. Fuck, why does he have to smell so absolutely delicious? And the heat that radiates from his body seems to warm you through skin and bone.

“Hehe, I knew you’d like that. First time lying next to a real man I guess.”

“No, your just stinky”, you blurt out.

His face drops immediately, as well as what’s left of your sense of humor and spirit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was a bad idea. A really really bad idea.

“You aren’t really in the position to have a big mouth, sweetheart.”

With a swift motion, he lays on top of you, gaze piercing through you as all you can do is to writhe underneath him. Fuck, this feels so good…What? You shake your head, try to calm your hammering heart down. What the hell has gotten into you?

His hand cups your face with a tenderness that you wouldn’t have believed he’s capable of while he eyes you up and down.

“You should be glad. Not many women end up in bed with me on top of them. Today is your lucky day”, he breathes out.

“That I don’t laugh”, you hush.

Your mind and heart are all over your place. Suddenly you aren’t cold anymore but burning hot, the sheer weight of his immense body seems to crush you.

But why on earth does it have to feel so good? This man kidnapped and chained you to this tiny bed. It is obvious that he only causes trouble, not even a gorgeous face can change that. But the way he looks down at you, his firm body pressed against yours makes it harder second by second to not stretch out your arms to investigate the valleys of his tight muscles.

“You don’t seem to mind sharing a bed with me the way you press your legs together.”

Caught. You hold your breath and look at the ceiling. This will end horrible if you don’t start keeping your composure and stop acting like a horny teenager. This man is evil, he kidnapped you, you are his hostage-

Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder tightly, roaming all over his black shirt.

“Maybe just for a minute or two…”, you mumble.

Geto Suguru

Your heart skips a beat when you catch a glimpse of him and he perfectly made man bun through which you recognize him from miles away.

Geto Suguru is back. Finally, after days, he made it back to Jujutsu High. Your feet start running on their own, too impatient to wait another second.

“Woah, easy there (y/n)”, he laughs as you lung yourself at him and burry your face in the crook of his neck.

It was so easy to fall in love with Suguru, especially when the two of you spent so much time together.

“I missed you so much”, you mumble against his uniform, arms tightening around his chest as if your life depends on it.

“I missed you too, (y/n). Heard that Satoru wants to throw a party, do you know anything about it?”

With furrowed brows, you let go of him. A party? Satoru didn’t mention the slightest about it.

“No, I’m completely clueless. But I’m set on an important mission tomorrow anyway, so no alcohol for me”, you reply.

“Fair enough. Let’s get something to eat, okay. I’m starving.”

For the rest of the day, Gojo makes no secret out of the party he will throw that evening in his (and Suguru’s) dorm.

“I really hope you’ll catch some sleep tonight”, you comment while smiling at Gojo, who desperately tries to convince Nanami to come.

“If not, I’ll just sleep at your dorm. Be prepared”, Suguru jokingly remarks.

Your heart skips a beat. Suguru sleeping at your place? The thought alone makes your stomach flutter in excitement and your cheeks go red. Way too many nights you dreamed of this to happen, to experience what it’s like to rest your head against his chest while he wraps an arm around your shoulder while his even breaths brush over face gently. Gojo really doesn’t know how lucky he is to share a room with Suguru.

“I’ll be ready. Just knock on the door twice”, you giggle.

“Check. I have to get going now. See you tomorrow before your mission. Or tonight, who knows.”

Yeah, who knows?

- Later that evening –

Knock knock.

Your eyes snap open immediately. Did you dream that? Your still sleep drunken eyes dart towards the door. Oh, please let it be real. Let it be him.

“Suguru?”, you whisper into the darkness of the room.

No response. Maybe you just desperately hoped it to be him. It’s nothing new that Suguru haunts you even when you sleep after all. Your heart sinks, while you turn to the side. Hopefully he has a great night.

Knock knock.

Instantly, you sit bolt upright in bed. No, this wasn’t a dream. You heard it loud and clearly. Before thinking twice you get up and open the door only to get greeted by his smile.

Oh, that gorgeous smile.

“Is your offer still valid?”, he whispers into the peace of the night.

“Sure, come in…”

You didn’t get the chance to see him like that often, dressed in an oversized grey shirt, shorts and his messy hair let down. But he sure does look breathtaking. So breathtaking that you forget how to move for a moment.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do I look this bed?”, he asks while scratching the back of his head.

“No, not at all. You look absolutely handsome”, you blurt out.

Screw your fast mouth, why can’t you think and then speak?

“Oh, don’t flatter me (y/n). Not when you’re the one that’s looking absolutely gorgeous at the moment.”

Your knees threaten to give in any minute, sleep-drunken eyes just staring at him in disbelieve. This has to be a wonderful dream, right? Like the ones you try to rewatch over and over again. But no, Suguru is standing right in front of you, his soft smell radiating from his stunning figure. This is very real.

He clears his throat.

“Looks like the party won’t end anytime soon and I’m just too worn out to be awake another minute. Would you mind going to sleep? I’ll take the floor.”

“No, absolutely not”, you protest.

No way in hell is Suguru sleeping on your floor after a difficult mission.

“I’ll sleep on the chair”, you suggest.

“No way in hell, (y/n). I’m your guest and you’re leaving for an important mission tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll have to share my bed I guess”, you say your thoughts out loud.

Thick silence hangs in the air. God, you wish the floor would swallow you whole. What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you suggest something so dumb? There is no way that Suguru wants to share a bed with you-

“If you don’t mind, I’m in”, he replies.

You have to blink a few times, did he really just say yes?

“Do you like sleeping on the wall?”

“Y-Yes…”, you stutter.

“Then get in.”

Your feet follow his instruction on their own, carrying you back into bed. The mattress gives in under his weight, causing your arm to slightly brush against his.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, you mutter awkwardly.

“Don’t be. I always liked to be touched by you”, he admits.

Your heart stops.

“(y/n), what I want to say is that…No bed is as comforting as spending my time with you. I just feel like I like you a little more than just as a friend…”

“I love you”, you breathe out without thinking twice.

God, how much you love Suguru Geto. No matter how long he’s gone, no matter how often you told yourself that there will never be more between both of you than a friendship, you always craved more.

You always graved him. Completely, everything from him.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you just know this has to be real. No more dreaming, no more imagining. Suguru is laying right by your side, holding you close to his body.

“Thank god Gojo throws that stupid party tonight”, he comments, hand gently caressing your face.

“Thank god this dream became real…”

Yu Haibara

You jump up and down in joy, giggling loudly at the sight in front of you. Finally, it is this time of the week again. The time of your movie night with Yu.

“I knew you’d love some sushi, so I thought I’d surprise you!”, he announces, smiling widely.

You don’t know how or when it started. Since you’re both in first class of Jujutsu High, you always spent a lot of time together. Right at the beginning you both discovered your passion for good films. One thing lead to another and now you’re having a movie night each Friday.

It’s way more than that for you, though.

“You’re the best!”, you yell in excitement, embracing him in a tight hug.

“No, you’re the best. Come on, let’s waste no time.”

He grabs your hand and pulls you with him into his dorm.

You can’t believe your eyes.

“Oh my”, you breathe out.

This is way too cute. Yu decorated his room with candles and a fairy light, windows completely darkened. His bed is turned into a blanket castle, tv directed towards it. Your heart flutters, tears start stinging in your eyes.

“You didn’t have to do that”, you hush, absolutely mesmerized by how magical the room looks.

“I wanted to do something special for you tonight, (y/n). Since you are so special to me”, he explains briefly.

His chocolate brown eyes stare down at you with nothing but affection in them. If you could, you would melt away in an instant. What a sweet and caring boy he is. Always there for others, careful about putting a smile on the faces of those around him. You can’t help but admire him for his beautiful soul and character. God, you truly don’t deserve this amount of kindness.

“Oh Yu, I think I need to cry.”

Tenderly, you wrap your arms around him once more, take in his soft scent that sticks to his white shirt that you love on him so much.

“Come on, no need to cry. Let’s get into bed instead!”

Gently, he pushes you into the mattress and hands you a pair of chopsticks.

“As it’s my turn to choose a film, I decided on something Ghibli”, he proudly announces.

All you can do is stare at him in awe. He is so breathtakingly gorgeous that you can’t believe you sit next to him on his bed. Every Friday, your heart skips a beat when gazing upon his features. He makes it look so easy to smile in a world that seems hopeless most of the time, always optimistic.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?”

You shake your thoughts away, cheeks redden. Damn, he caught you staring. He smiles softly at you, hand gently brushing against your arm. Oh, you see stars.

“Yeah, just a little overwhelmed I guess…”, you mumble.

“No need to be overwhelmed. You deserve the world! This is a small gesture compared to how great you are!”

By the way his eyes light up you can tell that he truly believes in his own words.

“Hey (y/n), would you mind cuddling a little? I guess I just really love your hugs.”

Time stands still, you fumble for words. If you mind to cuddle, with him? Absolutely not. No, this is what your dreams are made of.

“Not at all.”

“Great!”

Gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and positions the blanket on top of both of you, sushi placed on his lap. You let your head sink against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. Oh, how much you longed for that Friday nights, how much you adore his touch. The unusual sensation of him asking for cuddles sends a shiver down your spine and makes your heart flutter in excitement.

“You know, I love it when we lay in my bed and watch movies. It’s my highlight every week”, he confesses casually between eating some sushi.

“Really?”

“Of course! Your great company and your taste in movies is exquisite.”

You let out a cute little giggle at the way he dramatically pronounces the last word of his sentence, index finger stretched out in front of his nose. Yu never failed to make you smile.

“I just hope this never ends. I really like you, Yu…”

Your confession sounds so strange coming out of your mouth, but you can’t hold it back any longer.

“Well, I really hope you do considering you are my girlfriend!”

Girlfriend!? Your eyes dart at him in shock, mouth hanging open while your mind fumbles for the right words.

Girlfriend? He never mentioned that he’s in a relationship before, especially not with you.

“I mean, you are my girlfriend, right? After all we’re spending so much time together and it’s clear that you like me and I like you”, he adds, confused by the way your expression changed.

“You know that normally, people ask each other out, right?”, you enquire, still staring at him like an idiot.

Yu simply shrugs his shoulders while gifting you with another of his breathtaking smiles.

“Why asking if I already know that we like each other? Seems pretty unnecessary to me. Or do you not want to?”

You can see the way his grin slightly drops at this possibility. No, no, no, this is absolutely not what you wanted.

“Yes, yes, yes. I absolutely want to”, you blabber out.

He lets out a laughter, arms wrapping themselves around you tightly while your heart hammers against his chest. You’ve been imagining a relationship with him for so long while he’s been living in it for what seems like weeks? You giggle into yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. Somehow, this is absolutely typically for him.

“I’m glad you’re with me in this relationship now”, he notes.

“Yeah, me too…”

Choso

“Oh my god, this is just way too exciting!”, you blabber, eyes darting around the dark hallway to soak the moment in.

“You know you’re getting kidnapped, right?”, Choso questions.

“But this is my first time getting kidnapped!”, you clarify.

Wow, this is unusual. You seem so unbothered by the fact that your life is in danger than even Choso himself is too stunned to speak.

“Are you gonna torture me too!?”

“What the hell is wrong with you, woman?”

The enjoyment that lights up your eyes, your hands not even trying to fight against the chains and how you roam around in pure pleasure. This was supposed to be a blackmail attempt in order to tease Satoru Gojo out. After all, you are one of his precious students. But it seems like it doesn’t work out like that at all.

“You aren’t human, right? Hm, let me guess…”

“I’m incarnated, dumbass.”

“Oh, that’s really interesting! Would you mind telling me more about yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Can I touch you?”

“No.”

“What a bummer…”

You sign as you look up to his tall figure.

“You’re actually quite handsome”, you comment casually.

Irritated, Choso grabs your shoulder and pushes you against a nearby wall, absolutely thrown off course by your sudden compliment.

“Aren’t you at least a little scared of me?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I mean, the others told me that you are a special grade and I’m a grade 2, so I’m no match. But you don’t seem like a bad guy to me at all, more like quiet and introverted”, you explain briefly.

Urgh, that spark of innocence in your doe eyes makes it hard for Choso to seem unpromising. Maybe it would have been better to send Mahito after you…

No. Something inside him resists this idea. No way in hell will Mahito get is dirty hands on you.

Choso shakes his head and lets go of your shoulders, continuing to escort you. He has a mission to finish, after all.

“May I ask why you brought me here?”

He stops in his tracks while side-eyeing your frame.

“You’re here to attract Satoru Gojo.”

Even from afar, he can’t help but admire your features. Yes, you are very easy on his eyes, the way you stare at him in nothing but admiration, as if he’s something special apart from his outstanding abilities…

What the hell has gotten into him? He is a half cursed spirit, feelings like affection have no place in his world. You are nothing more than an annoying mission to him.

“I’m sorry about what has happened to your brothers”, you suddenly blurt out.

He can’t believe his ears. Slowly, he turns around to face you, features completely twisted in anger until he looks in your eyes.

Your eyes of innocence that are filled with nothing but sadness and sincerity.

“That’s none of your business”, he spits at you.

“Oh, but it is. My people are responsible for you being miserable and you seem like a genuinely nice guy”, you remark.

How ironically, he thinks to himself. To be called nice by a jujutsu sorcerer. You two couldn’t be more different. It’s your job to exorcise curses like him, curses that threaten humanity.

“Get in there”, he instructs you.

You follow the direction of his stretched out finger without thinking twice into the small room on the end of the hallway.

“Pretty nice for a prison, wow, there’s even a bed!”, you cry out and jump on the mattress.

It’s pretty hard, you have to admit. But better than what you’d imagined being held hostage would be like.

“Are you staying here with me?”

“I have no other choice. You’re my mission and I’m in no mood for trouble.”

“Oh, that’s cool! I’d love to chit chat with you!”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at you. After talking non-sense for half an hour, you now lay passed out on bed, snoring softly. How are you even able to close an eye when your life is in danger? If he wanted to, he could kill you without blinking. He signs to himself.

He wouldn’t do that though. Not when something about you seems so mesmerizing. Is it the way your hair falls so perfectly and frames your face? Or how you carry yourself with so much confidence that not even a cursed spirit can break your optimism? Maybe your effortless beauty is the source of all evil.

It’s just…you. He allows himself to get closer, sitting next to your passed out body on the bed. You look so peaceful, as if you’re just lying in bed, waiting for another day to arrive. He wished he could be so carefree, so cheerful.

Gently, his hand caresses your cheek. Why do you have to look so damn lovely, even to him?

“Can you hold me?”, you mumble sleep drunken.

He holds his breath. Fuck, did you just catch him stroking you? No, your eyes are still closed and a few seconds after those words escaped your lips, a soft snoring is heard again. You talked in your sleep. You asked him to…cuddle you.

Carefully, he places himself besides you on this way too small bed, arm hesitantly wrapping itself around your waist. Oh, you feel so warm, your sweet perfume tingling in his nose. What a truly lovely human being you are, so different from all the other people he has met yet. Maybe…Maybe you are indeed different. Maybe not all humans have to be killed.

“Can you scratch my head?”, your acquitted voice requests.

“Don’t get greedy”, Choso warns you, before massaging your head.

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blushingreid · 5 months ago

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Temporary Parents

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: hi bbs, it’s been so so long & I’m sorry :( Here’s a longer fic that’s been in the drafts for YEARS NOW LMAOOOOO (disclaimer: this was written before my like 3 yr hiatus, no proof read, just straight posted for y'alls enjoyment) Giving some type of dad vibes I think might've been a request, but enjoy & slide me some feedback ! <3

Gun drawn, Spencer cautiously entered the house and into the child’s bedroom. Y/n followed closely behind, her gun out, ready for any outcome. Hearing a shuffle coming from the closet, y/n grasped Spencer’s bicep to get his attention before silently signaling to the closet. Spencer slowly approached the closet and whipped the door open.

“FBI! Put your hands up!”

Regret instantly hit Spencer as he holstered his gun when he saw a crying child crawl out of the closet. It was Jayden, Jordan Richard’s five-year-old son.

Y/n holstered her gun and approached him, arms outstretched. “Hey there, you don’t have to be scared anymore, we’re the good guys,” she quietly explained as she motioned for Jayden to come closer to her.

He hesitated and looked between y/n and Spencer before running into y/n’s arms. After they left the house, Y/n brought him to the ambulance in the driveway to get checked out, while the team talked about the next steps.

They had been called to a small town in Virginia to investigate a series of families murdered with the same m.o. The team had gone to arrest the unsub, Jordan Richard, well the person they originally thought was the unsub. What they didn’t expect was for the alleged unsub and his family to have been the next victims. This meant the real unsub was still out there and the team was back to square one.

The only miracle was that the unsub had gotten sloppy and overconfident that he had just assumed that “missing” Jayden must’ve been sleeping over someone else’s house. Now this child would be the unsub’s demise.

Y/n was about to go join the team when Jayden grabbed her hand, silently pleading for her not to leave them. She gave him a small smile and sat down next to him in the ambulance.

“He’s lucky. There are no signs of any physical abuse,” the EMT said while placing a small band-aid on Jayden’s finger.

“Y/l/n, we need to take Jayden to headquarters and see if he can remember anything that can help us,” Hotch said before getting into one of the SUVs.

Y/n explained to Jayden the plan to head back to headquarters for the day. He didn’t seem to entirely understand the plan, except that he would get to spend the day with y/n, so he nodded and followed her into the SUV.

When they finally arrived at the bullpen, y/n led Jayden into one of the lounges. JJ came in to drop off some drawing supplies and snacks to help him feel more comfortable. The two of them spent the rest of the day attempting to get Jayden to open up about anything he might remember from last night. To everyone’s disappointment, Jayden was still too traumatized and only responded with nods and shakes of his head. Penelope had tried to find out if Jayden has any other family near, but she couldn’t find any. The social worker permitted Jayden to stay with y/n and Spencer, given that he’s a key witness and potentially still in danger. Actually, he wouldn’t let go of y/n’s leg when the social worker tried to take him for the night, so the social worker permitted him to stay with them until the case was solved.

Once the three of them arrived at Spencer and y/n’s shared apartment, Spencer quickly went to childproof the guest bedroom. After tucking him in, y/n slid into bed next to Spencer, his arms instantly wrapping around her.

“You know you always wanted kids,... so here you go,” y/n joked.

“I guess you could say this is our trial period for parenting,” Spencer laughed and placed a kiss goodnight to y/n’s forehead.

The multiple late nights and early mornings for this case, had tired them out so much that soon they were bother knocked out for the night. So knocked out, that neither felt Jayden crawl into bed with them.

The next morning, y/n rolled over in bed to find that it was empty. She didn’t plan to leave her comfortable bed, until she heard Spencer scream. Running out of bed, she stopped once she saw Spencer covered in some type of food, Jayden no where to be seen.

“Spence what happened to you?” Y/n laughed, walking into the kitchen.

“JAYDEN THREW HIS YOGURT AT ME!”

“What’d you do to get him to do that?” She teased, looking around the apartment for Jayden. Y/n eventually found him watching tv in the guest room.

“Absolutely nothing. All I did was join him at the table and the next thing I knew he launched his yogurt at me. This is my favorite sweater too,” Spencer pouted, trying to wipe off the yogurt.

“It could be because the first time you met, you had a gun pointed at him. He could still feel threatened by you,” y/n sighed before grabbing Spencer a new shirt.

“By the end of this case, I swear to you, Jayden and I are gonna be best friends,” Spencer promised.

Y/n didn’t doubt it one bit. She knew Spencer would be the best dad in the world.

The next two days had gone quick, Spencer and y/n stayed with Jayden to keep him safe and were there once he was comfortable enough to give them more information about that night.

Y/n had left Spencer and Jayden alone in the apartment, while her and Emily checked out some leads. She hoped, the two of them wouldn’t tear apart the apartment by the time she got back. They’d seemed to be getting along together the past two days.

After checking out the leads, y/n headed back to her apartment to check on Spencer and Jayden before heading back to headquarters. She mentally braced herself for whatever she would be walking into as she unlocked the apartment door. To her surprise, she heard Jayden and Spencer laughing together. As she entered the apartment, she saw Spencer and Jayden running and ducking behind furniture with nerf guns. She giggled at the scene in front of her.

Suddenly, she was hit in the forehead by a foam dart. Y/n looked in the direction the dart came from to see a guilty Spencer emerge from behind the kitchen counter.

“Sorry love, I thought you were Jayden,” Spencer said as he jogged to the door to greet her with a kiss.

“I see you two have been keeping yourselves entertained,” y/n laughed as she went to go sit on the couch. Spencer followed, wrapping an arm around her.

Jayden finally emerged from their bedroom, nerf gun in one hand and a piece of paper in his other. He ran and jumped onto the couch in between Spencer and y/n. Y/n examined the paper Jayden had handed her. It seemed to be a drawing of a logo.

“This looks familiar Spence, like a company logo,” y/n said as she handed the drawing to him.

“T-th-the scary m-man,” Jayden said, pointing to a mean stick figure he’d drawn on the bottom corner of the paper.

“Is this how you know the man who hurt your family?” Y/n softly asked. Jayden quickly nodded his head before jumping off the couch and running into the other room.

“This might just be what we need to finally catch the unsub,” y/n exclaimed as she gave Spencer a quick kiss and ran out the door to tell the team.

Spencer wanted to be there with y/n and the rest of the team when they went to go arrest the unsub, but he knew he had to stay and keep Jayden safe. A small part of him was actually happy he stayed, that way he’d be able to spend more time with Jayden before a foster family takes him.

“Ok kid, how do we convince my wife to start trying for our own kid?”

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #lauren's writing #blushingreid

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doromoni · 1 year ago

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I hate you , right? | GR63

George Russell x Red Bull Driver! y/n

warnings : swearing

Summary : George was a little too attractive after the summer break.

“Oh fuck off Russell! Are you blind? Side mirrors are there for a reason! Learn to fucking use it! You almost cost me my race, dickhead!”

Y/N L/N the first ever female driver for the Red Bull racing team, only through sheer determination and hardheadedness was she able to achieve such an amazing feat.

Being the only female on the grid was hard enough as it is with misogyny and sexism biting at her rear , but adding a British asshole really did put the cherry on top on the cake of ass-hattery that Formula 1 offered.

“Not my fault you drive like a fucking lunatic, that turn was mine and you know it L/N! maybe next time learn how to actually drive rather than depending on your car”

The two drivers are at each other’s faces yet again . This had been a normal event, that even the teams have grown accustomed to the shouts and curses of each driver — whether its swearing at each other in the Red Bull garage or nearly pouncing and succumbing to physicalities at Mercedes. Y/N L/N and George Russell are sworn enemies in and off the racing track.

They used to be friends, best friends even. Both driving for the Mercedes driver academy with George racing in F2 while Y/N in F3. When George won the F2 championship, earning himself a seat at Williams ; Y/N then was promoted to a seat in F2 . A year later Y/N had won her own F2 championship, but no F1 seat was offered in Williams nor in Mercedes to the female driver. Another year had passed, George was offered a seat at Mercedes while Mercedes had no news for Y/N L/N. That was until a seat was offered by Red Bull — giving a shock to the whole motorsport world. As Y/N raced for the Red and Blue team , she had flourished and proved everyone who doubted her wrong.

No one knew how George and Y/N’s rivalry exactly started , but all hell broke loose when George collided with Y/N during the 1st lap and both had DNFed the race.

Y/N was furious and snapped , storming into the Mercedes garage straight to where the English driver was standing still holding onto his racing helmet— shoving him with all her strength into the garage wall. Their faces almost touching as unpleasant words were exchanged ; rendering both teams speechless and leaving them with a horrendous PR mess to clean up.

This time was no different. Y/N and George were at each other’s throat, only this time it was Y/N pinned to the wall inside George’s driver room . George tightening his grip on the Red Bull driver’s waist, leaning his full body weight on the girl who was squirming for release.

“What even is the problem Y/N? We’re both on the podium and you’re team got a 1-2. Stop being a child, it’s racing! What do you expect”

“My problem is you Russell! You’re so careless and aggressive, we could’ve crashed again. You never changed, George , you’re still the fucking same!”

George’s eyes darken as his face drew even closer to the female driver— his voice like honey, dripping as it lowered an octave.

“Yeah?!And you changed so fucking much, I don’t even recognize you anymore Y/N! Now all I see is a bitch obsessed with winning. Tough luck! You’re Verstappen’s teammate, you will always be second.”

Not backing down , Y/n drew herself closer to the english driver ,enough that their noses where touching. A teasing yet derisive smirk formed on her lip, tongue darting out wetting her lips. Catching George’s eyes , as it glanced down towards y/n lips.

“Oh how rich! Coming from the guy who’s living in Lewis Hamilton’s bloody shadow. Like I care what you see me as , you were blind from the very beginning.“

A deep chuckle vibrated in George’s chest , drawing shivers up Y/N’s back , as he said

“ I hate you”

“No, duh Sherlock. I hate you more”

His eyes quickly darting from her eyes to her lips , as if contemplating something. Having enough of his antics and taking matters into her own hands, Y/N fisted his Fireproofs as she brought him down to her level. As their Lips almost touched , rapid knocks on the door distracted them from their daze.

Suddenly realizing their positions , Y/n pushed George away from her. Fuming, the female driver parted ways and left the Mercedes garage with a huff ; wrapping up the first race of the seond half of the season with glares and silent threats. Not realizing what was on each other’s mind

“ Such a rude mouth, what i’d do to shut that up and get a taste”

“I need to control myself. I was ready to pounce on George and have my way with him. Damn him and his perfect hair and golden skin”

The Red Bull and Mercedes driver starting the other half season with pent up anger and sexual tension thick enough to suffocate.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #george russel x reader #mercedes #george russel imagine #george russell #gr63 #red bull formula 1 #red bull racing #f1 imagine #mercedes amg f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 2023 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #george russell x reader #george russell imagine

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yanderelionwrites · 20 days ago

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I'll Stay Here - Yandere!Leona x Reader

Content Warning: (soft) yandere, implied kidnapping/captivity, I fear the Stockholm Syndrome has ARRIVED

Word Count: 607

(Again, kind of a part 3 to this, but can be read on its own)

You really need to stop forgetting your things in Leona’s room. Luckily, he doesn’t mind you coming and going, but it’s still a pain to have to walk all through the palace to get there.

You’ve been keeping him company as of late, just sitting in his room while he naps or plays chess, meaning you like to bring your own stuff over to entertain yourself. Today, you left behind a book you were reading earlier, so you thought you would pop by really quick and take it back. Even though it was late in the evening, Leona would most likely be taking a nap right now, so he wouldn’t even bother with trying to engage with you.

Poking your head into his room, you confirm that he’s asleep before tip-toeing over to the table you left your book at. You grab it and turn to sneak back out, but you stop yourself when you glance at Leona’s face.

His expression appears so…soft. Free of the stresses his family, the servants, or even you sometimes cause him. He looks the most at peace he’s ever been…

It makes your heart swell, which is very alarming because you’re supposed to hate this man. And yet, despite it all, you still find yourself drawing nearer to him. Just to get a better look.

Leona sleeps soundlessly on his stomach, with his arms hugging the pillow his head is buried in. You can’t help but smile at the way his ear twitches; he looks like a napping kitty. It’s such a stark contrast to how he acts when he’s awake.

This is so frustrating… One minute you feel like you wish you never met Leona, and other times, you’re thinking it’s not so bad staying here with him. You have everything you need, and anything you want (other than freedom) can be given to you when asked. And Leona himself isn’t awful to be with… He makes sure you’re taken care of and remains respectful around you.

But do you love him enough to want to stay?

…You don’t want to admit you don’t hate him anymore.

Inching ever so closer to his sleeping body, you tentatively reach out to brush a strand of hair out of his face.

You shouldn’t…

Hesitantly, you lean down so that your face is hovering right over the crown of Leona’s head. You place the quickest and gentlest kiss on top of his hair, before immediately withdrawing from him. Trying to leave like you were never there, you turn towards the exit, but jump when a hand grabs your wrist.

A small yelp escapes your lips as you’re pulled backward onto Leona’s bed. Arms wrap around your waist, not too tight but firm enough to let you know that you won’t be leaving anytime soon.

“L-Leona?!” is all you can stutter out, hands uselessly pushing at his arms.

“Just stay here…please,” he utters into your ear, voice husky and surprisingly pleading.

“...Only for a few minutes,” you relent, letting him pull you against his chest.

A few minutes is all Leona needs. He’ll take what he can get.

He feels you relax next to him, and he couldn’t be more content. This was only a small step towards the future he envisions for you both, but it was still important progress. Leona bets you don’t even know how much he’s been holding back, how much of his feelings he’s repressed to make sure you’re comfortable here first. But with this small gesture, you’ve opened the doors to so much more.

You’ve walked into the lion’s enclosure, and there’s no getting out of it now.

~~~

Probably the last part to this little series. I've been cooking up something Savanaclaw related though, so stay tuned for that 👀

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

#yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere leona kingscholar x reader #soft yandere #yandere twisted wonderland x reader

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kiyomitakada · 1 month ago

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okay fuck it i went to a leonardo da vinci exhibit today and now i have a leonardo da vinci death note AU in my head because i am a parody of myself so you can fucking have it i guess what do i even do with this

light yagami: young genius polymath who is good at literally everything

unfortunately for him he is a foreigner in italia (his family immigrated) so the government is not letting him anywhere near their weaponry projects. instead he does art. yes light yagami painted the mona lisa no i do not take criticism i’m in too deep

his portraits are predictably amazing. smash hit. soon aristocracy from all over italy is contacting him to draw them and their mother. this means he doesnt even have time in the day to draw giant fuckoff warship designs anymore. what point is there to life, he sulks.

eventually he accepts a commission from one kyosuke higuchi! we’re italianizing him because i really don’t think this AU works otherwise but let’s call him higuchi anyway. higuchi is a fifty-something duke of something or other who has recently married one misa amane who is twenty-something (the same age as light). misa is the subject of the portrait because higuchi just loves his darling wife so much (read: they had a shotgun wedding and higuchi needs to keep up appearances)

light is like wow someone who isn’t white it’s been like five years. i kind of feel bad for her, this situation is very suspicious. hello miss amane if you’ll just sit down over there while i get my brushes

misa (seeing the first person who has been even remotely sympathetic to her absolutely horrific life, noticing he hasn’t tried to make any advances on her at all [this is a good thing]): I AM DRASTICALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU.

light: what

misa’s plan of seducing light predictably fails because he’s light, so she explains she has to get the fuck away from higuchi somehow

light is like okay well i am sorry to hear that but what does this have to do with me.

misa, tearing up: im a damsel in distress! also i can get you information about his court

light: whats his job

misa: financial advisor

light: oh fuck yes okay

so light’s plan is now to worm into the yotsuba court to get funding and hopefully sway them enough to let him pitch his cool weaponry ideas so he can Change The World. he does need income in general too (both for himself and his family; expected lifespan was way shorter then obviously).

misa’s plan is to kill higuchi somehow which will be much easier with light as backup she thinks

so. light packs up and moves to the yotsuba court which is thrilled to have THE light yagami portrait artist (i do more than portraits…) in their employ

oh yeah, misa mentions, the prince of the yotsuba court is kind of… weird

light: you could have told me this before

misa: ehe. dont worry about it!! it’s just um. he had a weird personality shift a few years ago? and now he refuses to wear royal attire. he always dresses like a peasant.

light: well it’s not like i’m going to be there to judge him on fashion am i.

THAT’S RIGHT. SIKE THIS IS AN ISEKAI NOW. yes L does remember light killing him <3 he (L) woke up in fifteenth century renaissance italy in a twenty-something-year-old body immediately after the heart attack. by some miracle he already knew italian.

so everything is going swell until one day light walks into his workshop to find the prince flipping through his notebook

light, sleep deprived: hey what the fu—i mean. uh. good morning your highness

there’s no need for that formality. call me L.

(…but your name doesn’t start with an L?) thank you, your highness L. um. sorry i know my handwriting’s messy.

on the contrary i find it completely readable, as long as one reads backwards and caesar shifts it three letters forward.

(oh SHIT he’s onto me) haha what are you talking about?

in fact i think this mechanical dragonfly contraption is rather ingenious.

oh aha that’s not important, just a passing fancy honestly

[ignoring him] if only you had some better way of providing torque, because as it stands the spring engine is extremely poorly designed.

what the fuck did you just say to me

[they end up physically fighting over the notebook because of course they do. meet cute!]

some more details:

ryuk is the patron light eventually gets after being in higuchi’s court for a bit

rem is higuchi’s personal assistant, who was disowned by her own royal-blooded family because her family sucks. she hates her job. if it weren’t for misa she’d probably be on the other side of the country by now

i don’t know where the wammy kids are. they’re definitely competing to be the heir to L’s throne but also they’re not related because there is no way that all the wammy kids (the whole orphanage of wammy kids) could have come from the same person. maybe some kind of insufferably high collar royal boarding school? did they even have those? help me

kiyomi and teru are both advisors in other courts (which are extremely corrupt, light seethes, in his perfect world there wont be any of those anymore) (you work for a court light) (thats different)

okay i’m done for today. you never know about tomorrow though. /threat.

[ @deathnotetober day 12: isekai ]

#i think theres so much you could do with canon L meeting au light but i cant fucking write renaissance dialogue so here you go #death note #light yagami #misa amane #l lawliet #our three major players!#lawlight #deathnotetober #higuchi is here too but i dont know if this is enough of a him post to warrant the tag #DISCLAIMER: i know nothing about leonardo da vinci outside of the exhibition i went to today #sorry for any historical inaccuracies #on the plus side if you spot any you probably have enough knowledge to write this

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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

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7.2k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: Joel whisks you away to Houston for the weekend under the guise of a work trip. You keep a secret from him to try and keep your fling undetected from your parents. warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (shower sex hehe), a little overstim if you squint

A/N: sorry not sorry this chapter took a month+, but I hope you like it! A little drammaaaa. and a reminder, they still have all day saturday and sunday together ;)

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You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-” “Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles. You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat. “There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,”

June 23rd 7:48 P.M.

I’ve had some time to think about Joel, and how much I like to think about him, and how things aren’t an accident.

Thinking about how unlikely it is that we sparked.

How Joel could have turned left, and I could have turned right. But we didn’t.

Instead of running away, I said yes, and so did he.

The impossibility of us seems so incredible, almost unbelievable.

I love that so many things had to happen for us to be where we are right now.

I saw the sun melt his eyes into amber, and he liked the way I smiled in the moonlight.

This feeling was radical, unnerving, scary.

I didn’t know why it was called falling or crashing into love. Perhaps I do now.

“You could sit there and read all day, huh?” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he starts to guide his truck off the freeway, passing a large aluminum Welcome to Houston! sign lit up by the truck’s headlights.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, cheeks squished from smiling as his hand settles on your upper thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles on your sweet skin.

“I’m not reading anymore. Got too dark.” He’s referring to the novel you brought for the trip from your to-be-read pile that you started when you first got on the road.

The drive from Austin to Houston was two-and-a-half hours long, so you decided to saddle the passenger seat with different activities and snacks to keep yourself busy and out of Joel’s hair, much to his behest. He said he enjoyed letting you ramble on about whatever you were thinking about; said it was like listening to a podcast.

“But I am writing.” You hum quietly, penning in your last thought before it gets lost in the black of night.

“What’cha writin’, then?” Joel's curious eyes wander to the nest you had made for yourself in the passenger seat as he tilts his chin up to try and read beyond your journal cover.

You snap it closed and slip the pen in somewhere between the pages. “Keep your eyes on the road, old man.” Your tone is teasing, making you grin even more as he grumbles in annoyance under his breath as the truck slowly approaches a stop light.

Once off the freeway and down to the local roads, you roll the window down. You watch the moon start to rise in the sky, feeling goosebumps grow on your arms and exposed legs while the wind lazily flows through your hair. The gentle night breeze is welcome to air out Joel’s stuffy truck.

You were supposed to be his navigator once he got off the freeway, but you were a bit preoccupied looking around yourself.

You and Joel left Friday evening as soon as he was done with work, and now you were lightly coasting the streets of Houston as the sun finished setting. You could see the diverse architecture of downtown, the skyline of skyscrapers and high-rises were all crowded together. As you moved further into midtown, Joel drove past small businesses and parks. You let your hand float out the window, surfing the wind like a wave.

“Hey, space cadet, if you’re not gonna give me the directions to the motel, the least you can do is toss me a french fry.”

Your head cocks back to him, curiously smiling as you reach your hand aimlessly into the fast food bag, retrieving a fry and bringing it up to his lips. You settled on McDonald’s before you left Danbury, partially because Joel felt like being a little cheap, and you agreed they had the best, saltiest french fries.

You feed it to him, and he teasingly sucks the salt off your fingers.

“Gross, Joel.”

He sneers as he watches you wipe your hands on your thighs to rid yourself of his saliva. “You like it.”

He’s not wrong. You force yourself to look back out the window again to hide the heat creeping up the back of your neck.

Joel smirks and squeezes your thigh to bring you back to him. When you look over to the handsome man donning his usual green flannel, the wind furles your hair in messy, unkempt streaks.

He hesitates for a moment, but now that you’re no longer preoccupied with reading or writing, he holds your hand. You feel him test the waters, settling for just lightly clasping it in your lap, but it’s not enough for him. His thick fingers and calloused hand meets the heart of your palm as his fingers weave with your own. He lets out a little sigh and settles himself there.

You feel like teasing him. You’re afraid to hold my hand but not to fuck my throat in your woodshed with a party right outside? But then you remember how difficult it was to kiss him. It still felt like a slip-up, you had to admit. Especially if this was supposed to be just a casual relationship. It felt intimate and emotionally charged. But it was just kissing, right? And this was just holding hands.

Your thoughts wrestle around your head a bit. Joel feels it. You’re not sure how he always seems to know what you’re thinking, but he does. His thumb strokes a gentle line up and down the muscle of your thumb, a silent way of saying stop thinking for once. It’s appreciated, the sense of care and thoughtfulness he provided without even speaking a word.

Ever since he took you to that bar, Past Lives, all you could think about was Joel. Joel on repeat. Joel taking you away from the distracted environment of the lakehouse. Joel showing you the map, saying there was more to the world than Texas. Joel kissing you. Joel touching you. Joel fucking you. Joel protecting you. Joel saving you.

As much as you’ve had time to reflect on Joel, you’ve also reflected on your parents. They were hardly bad people, but they didn’t respect your adult choices. You came to tearfully realize that your relationship with them had slowly deteriorated since leaving for university. You grew independent, and that was especially hard for them. Something you had trouble understanding, something Joel didn’t understand either.

You called Joel Thursday night before your trip under the guise of asking if you should pack any specifics, but the conversation ended up landing on his relationship and parenting with Sarah. You told him how you appreciated the way he let Sarah grow and experience things, that it was good for her.

“She’s a tough girl, and I trust’er. Nothin’ much left to say.”

“So, what-” you stumble and scoff over the phone. “My parents don’t trust me? Or think I’m not tough enough to tackle the world?”

“S’not what I’m sayin’, darlin’. I don’t know what’s up with your folks. But you don’t need their approval, you’re an adult. All you need is t’… t’ trust yourself. Sounds fuckin’ cheesy, but it’s true.”

You pause, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as your eyebrows furrow, thinking over his words. “Y’think if I act a little more confident about it, they’ll start believing it too?”

Joel’s chuckle is a little crackle-ey on the line as he wanders around his house talking to you, going in and out of good reception. “Gotta start somewhere, buttercup. At the end of the day, it’s about your happiness, not theirs. Don’t gotta be such a people pleaser all the time.”

Yes, I do, you think.

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Sure thing, hon’.”

Dusk on the outskirts of Houston. The houses become few and far between. There’s more green grass and flourished trees. Joel slowly pulls into a small driveway, a large blue neon-lit sign designated that you were at your motel for the weekend. The entire truck is highlighted in a pale blue from the illumination, you nearly have to squint. There were no more than two or three cars parked outside. It was a two-level motel, with an outside staircase to navigate the different floors.

“The Blue Swallow Motel.” Your attention strays to Joel with furrowed brows. “Why here?”

Joel shrugs and navigates himself into a parking spot with ease. “Don’t know. Like blue swallows.”

Curiosity sparks you.

“You like blue swallows? You’ve seen one in person?”

He shakes his head and says nothing for a moment, but it almost looks like he can’t help himself to dispel some information. “They’re native to Africa, only ever seen the North American variants ‘round here.” He lets the engine grumble down once he pulls the key from the ignition, but you’re still awestruck in his passenger seat.

“I’m sorry- Joel Miller Bird Enthusiast?” The eager tone in your voice gives away your excitement, and Joel seems to despise it when you get too excited about him. He has to close his eyes and hang his head, wishing he never said anything.

“Oh, Joel Miller, don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen those bird guides on your bookshelf, you’re a birder.”

His neck swivels, eyes wide and defensive. “I am not a birder.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and eventually, he cracks a smile. “They’re interestin’, okay?”

You playfully pat his shoulder with reassurance, nodding in agreement. The two of you settle down from your fits of laughter and look over the exterior of the motel once more.

“Y’said you wanted somethin’ quaint? Small?”

Being with Joel and having no other distractions was your goal for this weekend. Since this trip was coming out of Joel’s pocket, you insisted you didn’t need some fancy hotel. You’ve traveled to Houston a handful of times before, and the last thing you wanted was for your view outside some high-rise hotel to be Danbury in the distance.

You squeeze his hand once more and nod, stars lighting up behind your eyes. “It’s perfect. Thanks for finding something simple.”

Joel teeters on your appreciation but ultimately ends up shaking his head. “Could’ve gotten something a little nicer for ya, maybe closer to downtown-”

You stop him right there and bring his rough knuckles to your plush lips, adding a kiss to each one. “I said it’s perfect, so it’s perfect. I like it, it’s got charm, chutzpah even. Plus, looks like we’ll have the pool to ourselves.” You hum with a devious little smirk. You hop out of the truck and open the backdoor to grab your things.

“Pool, you say?” He retorts, an eyebrow raised with narrow eyes on you. You lightly shrug as you grab your backpack.

“Might have forgotten my swimsuit, though. Shame.”

You brush past Joel, who is scoffing lightly under his breath in disbelief, duffel bag brushing against his calves as he walks with you towards the motel office. You would be the death of this man.

“Damn shame.” He mutters, a smirk hanging low on his lips.

---

Room 135 was marked on the dark chestnut door, a small white plate with black numbering decked on.

There wasn’t much to be said about the motel room itself. You tried to stifle a laugh when you and Joel both walked in to see two separate queen beds. The sheets were white, but the top cover was an extravagant red pattern that looked like it got lost in the 80s. A side table was resting against the wall towards the headboards with a beige telephone placed on top, resting over a few local restaurant menus. Two small lamps were attached to the wall above the beds, perfectly opposite of the television sat on top of a tall dresser.

“Is this your idea of a romantic getaway?” You teased as you walked further inside over the beige carpet. “Two beds don’t exactly scream romantic.” You set your backpack down on the foot of the bed furthest from the door and closest to the bathroom around the corner. You assume this bed will just be used to hold both of your luggage, not a person.

“No,” Joel said through a tight gruff as he strained to lift his bag of tools and luggage onto the edge of his own bed. “S’a work trip. Not a romantic getaway.”

Your smile falters as you purse your lips and fiddle with your hands behind your back.

“So, this really is a work trip?” You clarify, to which Joel looks at you a bit confused.

“Course it is.”

A light boil simmers through your chest. Maybe you will be sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel could sense your flattened mood, and he quickly felt the need to sweep up the pieces of what he broke. He was bad with words, terrible really, but he tried to find the right ones for you.

“I said that wrong. It’s a work trip but,” he trails off and falters as he saddles his hands on his hips for a moment and sighs, your doe eyes looking up to his own. “But I brought you here to spend some real time with ya. Didn’t wanna,” he shrugs and rolls his eyes. A classic Joel Miller sign that he wants to say something a little personally emotional.

“What?” You probe him, a smile tickling your lips as you loop your hands to rest just above the ones on his hips. “You didn’t want to what, Joel?” You ask, setting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a goofy grin.

He sighs and rolls his eyes again, having a hard time looking at you. “I didn’t wanna go on this trip alone. Didn’t want to leave you at home when I could bring ya with.”

Joel wasn’t a social man. In fact, if the world went to shit, you think he might really enjoy the solitude. But for him to admit that he would rather have you in his space than out of it, it’s quite endearing.

Now you’re the one who's hiding a blush. You settle your cheek against his chest and sigh, soaking in his scent and his warmth. Joel’s hand comes to rest on the side of your head, gently stroking your hair away from your face as the two of you relax into a gentle hug.

“Were you serious about that no bathin’ suit thing?” He asks after a moment of silence, causing you to roll your eyes and shove him a good distance away.

“As serious as a heart attack.” You sneer as you round the bed to the bathroom, needing desperately to relieve yourself after the drive. Of all colors, it’s a beautiful mint green. Incredibly retro, you think as you use the toilet and stare at the shower absentmindedly. You roll your phone around in your hands once you finish washing them, a lump rising in your throat.

Your mother’s words echoed in your ear.

“If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.”

There was no young man. The young man your mother referred to was really Joel. Panic was spreading through your body just at the thought of trying to fix this situation. They figured out you were seeing someone, they just didn’t quite know who. A few heavy breaths labor out of you, anxiety nestling in your chest.

“You okay, buttercup? Been a minute.” Joel asks cautiously from the opposite side of the door, his knuckles offering a few polite knocks.

Your chest surges. You didn’t want him to know you’d slipped up, half-told your parents the truth. You didn’t want him to end things out of fear of them finding out. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Joel. Just.. gimme a minute.”

His feet don’t move on the other side of the door. He doesn’t want to leave you, feeling something slightly wrong.

“Really, Joel, just- checking out the facilities.” God.

He sighs before you hear him back off. “Alright. Lemme know f’you need anythin’.”

You need to act, or else this feeling will eat you alive. Finally, with some accurate cell service, you text the first person you think of. Nathan. Remember that childhood crush of yours? You hadn’t seen him in years, and with how gorgeous he was growing up, there was a scary feeling that you might be texting a man who had a girlfriend. But he was your only hope to cover up the mess you had made.

Growing up with Nathan and his parents being friends with your own always felt like a setup. Your mothers always cooed that you two just might end up marrying one another. At the time, you wished it was true, that all this exposure with him would lead to something romantic. But then you grew up, saw each other a little less over the summers, and grew apart. You still kept in contact via social media, but not often. You saw his life in pictures. One from a homecoming dance, a group picture of him and his friends, an action shot of him playing basketball, a high school graduation picture, and a similar one for college graduation. He was still alive somewhere out there, you just didn’t know him like you used to.

Nathan was always kind, goofy, very golden retriever-like. Summers spent apart created a rift, but he was your childhood best friend and crush once upon a time. If he was willing to help you out, you owed him big time. So you shoot him a text and cross your fingers that this is still his number. The last thing logged in your messages was a silly conversation about cheetahs versus jaguars. You were team cheetahs, obviously.

You felt a slight sense of relief once you came up with a plan. Talk to Nathan. See if he can act as your fake boyfriend for your parents. See if he doesn’t think you’re damn crazy for concealing your forty-something-year-old fuck buddy.

You’re not really sure how to reignite the conversation, it’s been so damn long. You stare at the blank screen before you craft the brilliant message:

A sigh leaves your parted, anxious lips, and you shove your phone away.

---

You really did bring a bathing suit, much to Joel’s eagerness for the rumor to be true. You change into it with your back turned to him. You feel his eyes boring holes into you, sending a small dash of goosebumps up your arms. “I’m going for a dip before bed.” You say as you fiddle with the strings of your bikini top, struggling for a moment before you feel a warm presence step in behind you and fuss away with the strings himself.

You hum softly as he fastens the strings, making a bow at your midback. Joel’s lips brush against your shoulder before they start sponging gentle kisses up your neck. The hair you tied up into a loose bun tickles his nose.

“Such’a pretty girl.” He hums against your skin, a soft shiver trickling up your spine, lips parting in pleasure. “Too bad you’re not a very good girl.” Joel murmured as his hands slipped lower, past your hips, past the curve of your ass, until he was cupping both cheeks in his large palms. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his fingers squeeze at your flesh. A moan escapes your lips, you just can’t help it. You love it when Joel is handsy for you, the needy one.

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn in his arms, eagerly kissing him as you cup his cheeks. He fights for control instantly, pulling you in at your hips so your back arches backward out of habit. You let your head dip back, eyes dipping closed as his lips trail down your neck, then between the valley of your breasts, all while his wiry beard creates scratches in his wake.

“Do you have swim trunks?” You ask breathily, shoving him lightly by the top of the head further down your body. He drops to his knees and continues to trail kisses down your stomach.

The question catches him off guard.

“Do I- what?” He asks breathily, looking up at you as he sponges kisses over your clothed center.

“If you don’t have swim trunks,” you try to continue, “you can’t go swimming with me.” You say with a teasing smirk, stepping around Joel, who was awestruck kneeling on the ground, his hands still in place where he was cupping the backs of your thighs before he slaps them down on his own to show annoyance.

He was probably thinking how you just up and disappeared when you were just standing in front of him a moment ago. Joel grumbles something, but you’re already out the door of the motel room.

---

The pool is glowing in its blue hue, lit by dim lights around the perimeter and the silver moon in the sky.

In a world so vast, you couldn’t help but feel a little lost in wanting to explore it.

You take a breath in through your nose and test the water with a dip of your toe. A bit cold for your liking, but the warm Texas summers make your skin sticky and the air a bit stale. So you dive in.

The cool water is a shock to your system at first, with goosebumps growing on your skin like wildfire. Your face breaks the seal of the water, emerging over the light ripples you created upon diving in, catching your breath. You take a few leisurely laps along the outskirts, feeling weightless, free.

“Nice night.” Joel’s brassy voice breaks the gentle chorus of the summer cicadas. You hum as you carve your way through the water until you meet the pool’s edge. You rest your arms on the lip of the pool, bringing your breasts just above the surface of the water.

“Get. In.” You say with an authoritative voice, despite your eager smile.

He cocks his head a few degrees to the right, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No. You look like a shivering chihuahua.”

His joke elicits a giggle from you.

“It’s only cold for the first few minutes. You’ll warm up.” You’re only half-lying, the pool was so fucking cold.

Joel merely shakes his head. “You’re crazy, buttercup.”

You hum as you push off the edge of the pool, moving towards the center, letting the water dance around you as your arms glide back and forth to keep you afloat.

“Sounds like you need some motivation.” Your eyes lock on Joel’s as your fingers navigate to the back of your bikini strings, slowly pulling the tie loose, feeling the water aid you in floating the material off your upper half. The top strings around your neck are still tied, concealing the full reveal of your breasts.

Joel’s once secure face fizzled, eyes straying and lips parting. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he kneels down, pointer finger curling towards him impatiently. “Get over here.”

You shake your head disobediently. “Now.” His barking urgency makes you stifle a smirk.

“Joel Miller afraid of a little cold water.” You shrug and move your fingers to the strings tied behind your neck, slowly tugging loose the threads. The material falls limp into the water, floating in front of you free from your body.

Joel watches with impatience, the spill of your breasts making his cock twitch inside his swim trunks. The mesh material was forgiving, allowing him to swell at the sight of you. The cold water has your nipples taut, drawn into sweet peaks. You’re just out of his fucking reach, too far into the pool for him to grab you.

He grunts quietly, jaw tight as you slowly swim closer to him. You shiver at his glance alone.

“If you want me,” your voice drops innocently, doe eyes making their appearance to reel him in, “you’ll get in the pool, Mr. Miller.”

Just out of his reach once more, you swim back to the center and push your thumbs into the band of your bikini bottoms, down your legs, leaving you bare in the pool for anyone to see from the highway or their own motel rooms. You must admit, Joel’s desperate gaze filled with want makes you squirm with excitement. Disobeying him lights that explosive even more.

He offers you his hand, one final offer. “Last chance, angel, get out of the pool.”

“Why do you even have swim trunks on if you aren’t going to get in?” You ask, eyes gazing over the tangled hair he has scattered across his chest.

“I was hoping these would appease you alone. Now come here,” he juts his hand out as an offering one last time.

You roll your eyes and swim closer, your breasts lapping in the water as you take Joel’s hand. And tug with all your strength.

His feet skid to try and hold him back, but he ultimately summersaults into the pool. You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to conceal your laughs as Joel emerges, sopping wet, cold, angry.

“Y-You-” He chatters his teeth, eyes screwed tight on you as he pushes his hand back through his soaked curls and down his face, grazing his wiry beard. “You’re gonna get it.”

Joel’s threat makes you squeal. You attempt to doggy paddle away, but the grip he catches on your arm is iron. He pulls you back to him, and your body glides through the water, arms securing on his biceps once you’re locked in his hold. He’s threatening, but not as much so when you wrap your legs around his waist and feel his half-hard length.

You raise your eyebrow at him, and he half-chuckles.

“Such a fuckin’ piece of work you are.” He grunts out, hands searing the flesh of your hips as he skirts his hand down lower, cupping the globes of your ass.

A hum tickles your throat as you lean in and press your lips to his jawline in a tempting kiss, smiling as Joel’s nose playfully nudges yours, leaning in for more.

It’s stomach-twisting how you feel so comfortable with Joel, how you sink into his body, and how he warms your core. You kiss him until your lips feel bruised, and he grips your beautiful curves with eagerness. The two of you kiss like hungry teenagers, finally outside the watchful eyeline of your parents. Joel’s cock is hardening against your naked core.

He forces himself off of you, groaning lightly as he strays from your eyes. Cupping his jawline, you angle him back to you, resting your foreheads together.

“Makin’ me get all riled up like a damn teenager.” His warm breath puffs across your face, his words make your bundle of nerves tingle.

��I like that I’m the one causing it.”

Joel chews at the inside of his cheek before giving you a tight little nod. “Me too, buttercup.”

---

Joel decides pool play is over. He gets out first, snags your bikini pieces that floated to the edge of the pool and starts walking leisurely back into the motel room.

He only hears your cursing and belligerent rambling after he returns from turning on the shower, piping hot.

“Can’t hear ya when you’re chatterin’ your teeth.”

Joel returns to the bathroom and strips his swim trunks off, still half-hard. He tests the water with his hand, giving you an affirming nod it was okay to step in.

You’re still angry and seething, having to streak your way back to the room naked and freezing your bare ass off. He looks at your crossed arms and playfully tuts. “You’re the one that thought t’drag me in there with ya, princess.”

Joel follows you into the shower, the water splashing searing hot droplets. It only feels that hot because you’re readjusting from the pool’s temperature. You find yourself huddling into Joel’s warmth.

He finds it endearing, the way your head settles on his chest, your ear to his heart, too chilled to let him go. He angles the showerhead downwards, letting it focus on your body first. He could wait.

You gently release your crossed arms, letting them wrap low around his hips. He had a few extra pounds of flesh low on his tummy and on the sides of his waist. You gently pinch the area and smile.

“Stop that.” He hisses, eyebrows knitted together.

“But I like it. You’re my favorite person to hug.”

The sentiment splashed warmth on the back of his neck. Joel has picked up a few extra pounds from town barbeques, and beers tossed back during football games. He used to not like it, the way he had to loosen his belt after a big meal, or having to purchase his new t-shirts in a size up. He didn’t think about it much, but naked with you in the shower, feeling you admire his ever-changing body, was a comfort.

You look up after a few moments of silence, setting your chin on his chest and feeling his chest hair graze against your skin.

Joel wants to warm you up, get you to relax under the showerhead. He presses a nimble kiss to your lips, pitter-pattering kisses along the extent of your body before he is down on his knees, angling your back to rest against the shower wall.

Tired after your car ride and melting under the shower’s sprinkling water, you ache for a relief that will come from your head hitting a pillow. But Joel had other things in mind, things that would make you forget you were tired in an instant.

Now under his watchful eye, lips and wiry beard scratching at your soft skin, you lightly part your legs for his entrance. God, please don’t let me slip and embarrass myself right now. Let me have this one good thing, this man’s tongue against my pussy would make me a God-willing woman.

Joel can feel your exhausted body, begging to find a bed. But he had you where he wanted you, and his mouth was watering to taste your sweet musky arousal. His hands settle themselves on the backs of your thighs, supporting your weight as his head leans into your warmth.

He brings two fingers forward, parting your center, licking a slow draw up your core. His tongue flicks off your clit, your bundle of nerves twitches. Something flips in his stomach, and his cock grows heavy against his thigh.

You taste sweet and serene, something he’s grown an appetite for. With several days apart awaiting your weekend trip away, he often found himself at night, spilling into his hand thinking about your young, beautiful pussy flushed against his mouth. He takes this opportunity to relish in you moaning his name, without any curious ears.

His tongue sinks lower, swirling around your tense entrance. The swell of his tongue gushes more arousal from you, and he gets a proper taste that isn’t mixed with water from the shower.

Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, and he laps at your clit like a famished man.

The constant flicks have you gasping for air in the all-too-warm shower. Your fingers weave into his soaking wet curls, still finding a grip as your thigh twitches against his hand.

Joel’s two fingers parting your center gently massage at your entrance, wiggling in gently as he suckles on your clit, and you mewl weakly.

His tongue and teeth lightly graze your sensitivity, feeling stars clouding your vision as his fingers set a gentle pace.

“Ooh,” you sigh weakly, feeling his fingers hit the perfect spot, one that makes you shake.

Joel knows that sound, knows the feeling. He looks up, admires the way your pretty lips are parted in bliss. The hand on your thigh is brought to your stomach, gently stroking over the flesh.

You watch him a little curiously, a little fucked. His mouth returns to your clit, but his hand still falters on your lower abdomen. You whimper as he adds a little pressure, and quickens his fingers. It’s jaw-dropping, the friction and pressure, piling on top of each other.

You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-”

“Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles.

You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat.

“There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,” he grunts, jaw tight, and teeth clenched as he watches your cum-arousal mixture glide down his fingers in a sticky mess. He slowly stands, watching you pant for air, as he sucks his digits clean with an evil smirk.

The temperature in here is too much, heat consumes your body as you weakly grip his biceps.

“God damn, Mr. Miller.” You say breathlessly. You take him in a quick kiss, moaning weakly into his mouth at your taste. His tongue tangles with you, and he keeps his fingers on your core. His first two fingers start to slowly circle your clit again, but it’s entirely too soon.

You whimper weakly into his mouth, your clit aching and still recovering from your oral orgasm.

“Mmm- can’t do it, Joel.”

Joel snarls as he swiftly turns you around, his foot hitting the insides of both of your ankles to spread your legs. Your face is plastered against the shower wall, watching him out of the corner of your eye with your jaw dropped.

“Be good for me, baby girl, show how thankful you are.”

You whine at his raspy voice, feeling its timbre bounce against the walls.

“Please,” you beg in a whisper, inching your feet farther apart for him to take you in the shower.

Joel strokes his cock, seething through his teeth at the desperate relief he’s feeling. His swollen tip vies for your attention. He lines himself up, his other hand on your hip as he notches himself inside.

You visibly flinch away, Joel hushing you softly as he tries again.

“Gotta relax for me, pretty girl.”

You sigh weakly and let yourself melt with the warm water, fluttering your eyes closed as you gently jut your hips back into this, needing to be filled.

Joel tries again after lining his tip up and down your slit and gathering your arousal. He notches inside of you once more, causing your eyelashes to flutter. He slowly presses on.

The drinks must have really loosened you up since the last time the two of you fooled around in his truck. He wasn’t so hard to take then, but now he feels thicker, rounder. You could feel the thick vein on the underside of his cock as he ruts his hips into your ass.

Finally, you will yourself to breathe, moaning his name in desperation.

Joel’s trying to contract his lungs, but you’re gripping onto him so tight, the heat of the shower going to his head.

You hum and purposely grip your walls around him, squeezing for his last breath.

Joel snarls and smacks your ass from below, watching the fatty flesh jiggle. It stings, but you like it, thinking about his large handprint marking you red. He winds his hips back up and presses in, groaning lowly as he fills you to the brim.

He sets a decent pace, one that robs you of what air you have left in your lungs. Your entire body feels sensitive, your cheek growing sore from being fucked against the shower wall. But it feels entirely too good, a certain itch that only Joel Miller can scratch.

Every thrust he makes, you moan his name like a broken record. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you moan and grunt it so much, that it starts to sound like it’s not a real word anymore.

You reach back an arm blindly, gripping his bicep and stitching your nails into his skin.

Joel grunts out weakly, the burning sensation you caused on his arm making him go wild. He reaches for both of your wrists and plants them at the base of your back, forcing your face to be your only weight to keep you up against the shower.

But it unlocks a new angle, one that has you crying out curses and his heavenly name.

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck- fuck your favorite little pussy,” you mewl out, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

“God dammit, fuck me good like that, like that,” your eyes clench close, panting heavily. “Right there, daddy, please, Mr. Miller, touch my clit, please,” you beg, the pet name rolling off your tongue.

It makes him snarl. He sets a hellish pace. His chest puffs up, his broad biceps locking around you as his fingers stroke over your pussy.

He loves the way you wind him up. Because you are his favorite young pussy, one he’s made his own, railing you so good that you forget about anyone else that may have had you before.

All you know is Joel Miller.

His thighs and lower tummy smack your ass cheeks, a distinct slapping sound filling the shower and pinging off the walls right back into your ears.

Stars flutter behind your eyes, you feel light-headed. The water splashes warm across your back, allowing Joel even more slip.

The harder he fucks you, the closer he moves in. Now he has his entire torso flushed against your back, flicking his hips up into you with precision.

Suddenly he’s grabbing your leg by the underside of your knee, hiking it up, and planting it against the shower wall as he exposes a whole new sensation.

You can’t last any longer. His fingers circle dangerously around your clit, and now he’s pounding you into the wall, forcing friction against his glorious thrusts. You whimper loudly as his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, feeling your walls clench around him as you come.

It’s jaw-dropping, heart-surging, mind-fucking how good he feels coming inside of you. It’s warm, warmer than the water still raining over you. It’s comforting the way his seed spreads throughout your core, his grunts filling the shower as he drops his last load inside of you.

And goddamn, he loves how you milk him dry.

You weakly slide down the wall, tiredly dropping your leg once he pulls out.

“No ya’don’t.” Joel quickly says, snagging a strong arm around your waist and hauling you up. You whimper as he peels your face off the wall, blinking rapidly as he spins you to face him. “C’mere.” Joel embraces you, and you lean weakly into his front like a bear hug.

“Water,” you whisper against his pec. He turns the shower temperature down, a more comforting heat surrounding you now.

“You’re alright.” He assures.

After time to recuperate, Joel reaches for the shampoo bottle, squirting a small amount into his palm and lathering it between his hands. You feel a little better standing, but you still stay wrapped up in his arms, in his hug.

He massages the shampoo into your locks, gently massaging it against your scalp, before he gently washes the bubbles out. He gathers conditioner next, letting it soak into your ends.

You hide your smile against his chest, knowing that he probably had to learn this type of stuff for Sarah. Hair care, skin care, tampons and pads, all the sort of stuff single dads fear. You wonder whatever could have been in Sarah’s mother’s mind to leave a guy like Joel Miller. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to fit into your life like a glove right now. For however long that perfect fit would be.

A weak sigh leaves your lips as he strokes your head sweetly, his fingers then grazing your cheek.

“Y’alright? Feel good?”

You nod weakly and smile, letting your arms drop gently as you pull away. “M’tired.”

Joel stifles a chuckle and nods. “Me too, baby. Sit tight.”

Once Joel is assured you’re not going to lose your strength standing up on your own, he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel low on his waist. You gaze at the lines around his hips, and how they dip down into his towel.

You clear your throat as you quickly look away once he approaches you with two towels. He wraps one around your shoulders, gently moving his warm hands up and down the sides of your arms.

You look so sweet, warm and cozy, cum-filled, at ease. The stress he usually sees you carrying around is wiped away. He hoped he had something to do with it.

Joel leans down and presses a light kiss to your lips. Not hungry, not desperate, not chasing. Delicate. Assuring.

You smile tiredly and shyly evade his eye contact, something that he hates to admit is goddamn adorable on you.

Both of you towel dry off any remaining droplets of water. Joel forces you to show him how you even get the towel you wrap around your hair on your head.

“This is girlhood, Joel Miller.” You say once you secure it on, watching him shake his head in disbelief.

“A mystery to me.” He says with a boyish grin.

You both exit the steamy bathroom and search your bags for pajamas. You packed a few comfy shirts for bed. And only one extra pair of panties. You better be damn careful with your one last sacred pair. You toss it back into your pack for now, deciding that they would probably be taken off in the morning anyway. You slip under the covers of Joel’s bed, saving him a space you hope he fills. Of course, he does.

Joel flips off the light switch, indulging the room in a black and blue hue. He grunts quietly as he slips into the covers. The both of you just melt into the mattress.

You nuzzle into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He makes gentle circles into your back as your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You sigh and turn your back to Joel to retrieve it from the charger.

“Your parents askin’ if we made it okay?” Joel murmurs tiredly, eyes closed, waiting for you to return to his side.

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s a text message from Nathan.

Hey stranger

“Yeah,” you lie, your fingers gliding across the keyboard to configure a response. “They uh.. They’re tellin’ me to not bug you too much on the trip.” You awkwardly chuckle, your back still turned to him as you stare at Nathan’s message.

Joel dryly chuckles as he reaches a hand out and settles it on your hip. “Quite the opposite.”

You feel terrible concealing this from Joel. But you don’t want him to think you were young and foolish letting your secret fling slip. This was to make things work, to keep the secret buried from your parents.

Another message from Nathan makes your phone buzz in your hand.

Heard you’re in Danbury for the summer with your folks. Wanna catch up?

Your heart sits in your throat, shocked by his ask.

You flip over your phone, opting to reply in the morning. You’re beat. You sigh weakly and return to Joel’s side, hiding your face in his shoulder as you gently kiss along the muscle. He was already passed out.

As messy as this felt, being with Joel felt like being tossed a life jacket in open water. And you weren’t going to lose that safety, not if you could help it.

---

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stargirlygirl · 19 days ago

Text

Upgrade pt. 2

Pro Hero Midoriya Izuku x fem!reader

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Epilogue

Summary: Izuku gets severely injured during a rescue mission. As a result, most of his left arm is amputated. You, being a mechanical and biomedical engineer (and his loyal girlfriend), decide to build him a cybernetic arm to replace the arm he's lost.

Word count: 6.7k

Other character appearances: Todoroki Shouto + Bakugou Katsuki

🚨Disclaimer & Warnings: Izuku has most of his left arm amputated and it is emotional + swearing

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It’s 8am and you’re in the elevator riding up to level 3. You’ve taken the next week off to see your pookie. And you’re anxious to see him, but not yet. There’s someone you need to speak to first. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. You walk down the white linoleum corridor, eyes peeled for that tall, lanky doctor. There! He has his back to you, speaking with a nurse outside of the recovery room.

You come up behind him, keeping a respectful distance of course, and wait patiently. The nurse acknowledges you with a nod. Once she leaves, Dr Kita turns around and gives you a lazy smile.

“What can I do for you, Miss [L/n]?” You notice how dark his under-eyes are and wonder if he’s been here all night. Wouldn’t be much different to you, for you’ve been up the whole night drawing up plans that you’re about the show him, if he gives you the time of day. “I’ve been thinking about Midoriya’s surgery and I wanted to know what kind of prosthetic you were going to give him.”

He raises a thick, black eyebrow, “I don’t choose, Miss [L/n]. Mr Midoriya will choose his prosthetic from a list of accredited providers.” You gulp. Okay, not exactly where you were hoping this conversation would head. Your palms begin to get sweaty. You open and close them, hoping to loosen up some of your nerves over what you’re going to ask.

“Miss [L/n].” Your heart pounds. You can hear it thumping. The blood rushing. “Mhmm.”

“I’m rather busy, so please, just ask me what you want to ask.” He stares at you shrewdly over the rim of his metal frames. “Okay, so, I’m a biomedical engineer and I was thinking that because Izuku’s amputation was open, then I could build him a cybernetic arm and we could attach it surgically.”

He sighs, “Miss [L/n].”

Fuck, he thinks this is really weird, doesn’t he? “Cybernetic arms work by—”

“I know how cybernetic arms work.” His mouth is pressed into a hard line as he stares you down.

“Izuku is Japan’s Number One hero. Give this man a regular bionic arm and he could never be that again. Look at all the heroes that lost their limbs in the Final War. Replace what’s missing of his left arm with a cybernetic arm and he could continue his hero work. Maybe not as number one anymore, but he could still make a difference in society as a hero.”

Dr Kita just looks at you and you stare right back. This isn’t the first time a man has looked down on you and your ideas as an engineer because you’re a woman. You know that you just have to stick it out. Be confident in your argument, your design, and keep pushing until he relents and takes you seriously.

Just when it looks like he’s about to tell you to get lost, he surprises you with, “Can you build a robot?”

He doesn’t mean it sarcastically. He means it genuinely. Fair question. Most of your colleagues can’t. “Of course I can build a robot. I did mechanical before specialising in biomed.”

“Have you ever built a prosthetic arm before?” He’s got a half-smile on his face, perfect teeth barely visible.

You have to look away momentarily from that intense gaze, “I’ve built a robotic arm before. I built Izu’s current hero suit. And, I know how One For All works. How hard can it be?”

Dr Kita sighs again and looks down at his clip board. It’s quiet for a few moments before he speaks again, “I assume you’ve got the designs.” You automatically reach for your bag on your shoulder, pulling it down and grabbing out your folded and coffee-stained designs. You begin opening them up to show him when he places his slender finger on the folded edge. “I finish in thirty. You’ll be in Mr Midoriya’s room, I assume. I’ll come over and you can show me then.” You nod in response and smile. “Thanks, doctor.” You bow and turn to leave, but he adds, “Run it by him first, yea?” You hum in agreement before returning to the elevator and taking it up to level 5, where Izuku’s been moved to for his stay at the hospital.

You knock on his door (as they’ve given him a room to himself) and let yourself in once you hear his permission. He’s sitting upright, stocking and drainage tubes on his left, cannula on his right. The sunlight kisses his pale skin, illuminating his freckles and bringing out those flecks in his dark green hair and eyes. He smiles once he sees you, inviting you to come over to him. You pull out the bento box you made for him this morning, setting it on the table next to his bed before you grab a chair and sit at his side.

“I missed you. How have you been holding up?” You place your hand just above his knee that’s covered by the thin blankets. He gives you a small smile. You can see how the skin around his eyes are puffy and red. Not well, you take it. “I brought you some of the curry I made. Do you want some?” He hums softly.

You grab the travel case from your bag, whipping out a pair of wooden chopsticks and a rice spoon. You place the bento on your lap. It’s still warm from the fresh rice you placed in it before leaving for the station. You open the lid, slipping it beneath the box. “Mhmm, it smells good, honey.”

“I got you some curry,” you say, pointing to the little compartment with the curry, “some rice, pickled onions, strawberries, and some hard-boiled eggs.” You grab one of the egg-halves with the chopsticks and bring it to Izuku’s mouth. “Honey, I can feed myself,” he says quietly. “Shhhh, here comes the aeroplane.” You begin winding and swerving the egg through air. Izuku chuckles and lets you feed it to him. He smiles warmly as he chews on the egg.

“Mhmm yummy. You want another one?” You’re already grabbing another egg. He stares lovingly at you and let’s you feed him this one too. Actually, you end up feeding him the curry and rice too as you don’t want them to get cold before he’s tried any.

You place the bento back on the table and look down. Sensing your sudden nervousness, Izuku rests his right hand on top of yours, on his thigh. It’s scarred from years of pro hero training and work, warm, and large, enveloping your own baby hands. He smiles gently at you, silently urging you to tell him what’s on your mind.

You let out a shaky breath. “Izu-chan…” He gazes back at you with those puppy eyes. “Mhmm.”

You look down, focusing on the back of his hand. “I want to replace most of your left arm with a cybernetic one.”

You trace the scars on his hand. The peaks soft beneath your fingertips. You can feel hardness of the tendons just beneath the delicate skin. “So, I’ll be like… part robot?” You look back up, seeing the confused look on his face, “Um, yea, pretty much. I’ve already spoken to Dr Kita about it. He’ll be coming in shortly and we’ll go through the designs I’ve drawn.”

“You already drew designs. Don’t those take hours hours, love? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night.” You bite the side of your lip before laughing a bit, more to yourself. “I thought you could tell now when I’ve pulled an all-nighter, pookie.”

Izu moves what’s left of his left arm, groaning in pain once again. You’re immediately on alert, leaning over him. “You okay?”

“Yea, I just keep forgetting… about that.” You sit back down, grabbing his right hand with both of yours. You smile at him reassuringly, seeing that sheepish look on his face. A comfortable silence hangs in the air for the next couple of minutes. You both thinking over what’s just been said. You start to think that he doesn’t like your idea when he pipes up, “Okay, I trust you, honey.”

You’re literally gob-smacked, jaw open wide, eyes even wider. “What? You mean,” you fumble your next words as you stare at him, dumbfounded. “You mean, you’ll actually let me build you an arm? And like, attach it you? Like, ‘you can’t easily get rid of it’ attach it to you? Seriously?”

He chuckles at your rambling. “Of course I will. You know a lot more about this kinda thing than I do, sweetheart. If you think it’s for the best, then I trust you. But…”

You’re on the edge of your seat, anxious for that objection. “But?”

“I’ll be able to be hero again, right? With a robotic arm, I mean.” He looks at you curiously, hand squeezing yours again. You sigh, “Izu-chan, you are a hero. Even with a robotic arm, you’ll still be a hero.” He nods, hand leaving yours to rub the back of his neck. “Thanks hon—” You’ve already leaned over him again, and this time, you cut him off mid-sentence with a brief kiss.

Well, it was supposed to be, but it became much deeper once he cups your right cheek, angling your head just right for him to slide his tongue over your bottom lip. You moan into him, granting him access. Your hands come to the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the stray curls. Tongues swirl in a flurry of longing and ecstasy. How long had it been since you two kissed? Like, kissed.

You’re already straddling him. Saliva beginning to drip down from the corners of your mouth. Izuku groans as you tug harder at his curls, his large hand slipping to hold the back of your neck, beneath the curtain of loose [h/c] locks.

The sound of throat-clearing catches your attention. You’re pulling away from each other instinctually. The culprit stands at the door, long fingers still wrapped around the door knob. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You quickly get off of Izuku, sitting back in your chair at his bedside. You fiddle with your hair and wipe the saliva from your lips. Dr Kita sets a second chair next to yours. You shuffle so that you can easily look at him and Izuku.

You notice Izuku’s cheeks have gone red, as well as the tops of his ears and his chest. You giggle, realising how embarrassed he must be. You’re pretty embarrassed too, but it’s to be expected. You’re both pretty touch starved after being separated for a month.

“So, where are these designs you wanted to show me?” Dr Kita begins, seated, calm and poised as ever. You grab your bag which lies against the hospital bed, pulling out your designs and laying them on top of Izuku’s legs. You begin explaining them to Dr Kita, not holding back as you get into the nitty gritty of what materials you’re intending to use, estimated costs, mechanics, electrode implantation, as well as having transformative features if you’ve got time like a cannon or rifle. You pause a few times to look back at Izuku. His blush goes down fairly quickly and, he just nods as you speak. He’s probably got no clue what you’re on about.

“And how are you going to test this arm?” Dr Kita asks. You look at Izuku, the same train of thought passing through you. He nods gently, urging you to continue on. You take a deep breath in, “You do know about my quirk, don’t you?”

And now it’s your turn to raise your eyebrow at Dr Kita. He just stares back at you, seeming mildly perplexed. “Am I supposed to?” You chuckle, “You seriously don’t know? The media couldn’t shut up about it when they found out.” You look back at Izuku and he’s just staring at you with that content expression on his face again. You turn back to the tired doctor beside you.

“My quirk is called ‘quirk stealer’ but it’s more like ‘quirk borrower’. But that doesn’t sound very cool, does it? My quirk allows me to ‘steal’ the quirk of others for up to 24 hours at a time by kissing them. I intend to ‘steal’ Izuku’s quirk, One For All, for a day so I can test how the arm holds up against his quirk and make any necessary adjustments.”

Dr Kita just stares at you disbelief. His mouth hangs slightly open, browheads sloping upwards. It takes him a few moments before he chuckles. He shakes his head as he does so, sunlight catching on loose black strands slipping from his low bun.

“Of course you do.” He re-adjusts, crossing one slim leg over the other. “Fine. Your design sounds good. Plan is thorough enough. Your only issue is that we can only keep his wound—” His boney finger points to what’s left of Izuku’s left arm, “open for a week, maximum. You’ll be, well not you, Mr Midoriya will be very lucky if his wound hasn’t become infected by the time you’ve finished construction and final testing of the arm.”

Your brows furrow at this. It was something you’ve considered but had avoided thinking about. You lean forwards slightly towards Dr Kita, saying in a low voice, “Realistically, how long do you think I have before infection sets in?”

“It all depends really.” Dr Kita pushes his glasses up, from resting on the bump of his nose to the space just before that. He looks over at Izuku, studying him carefully. “Some patients’ wounds become infected within hours. For others, it takes days.” His gaze flickers back over to you. “You’ll want to get him back in theatre and attach the arm as soon as possible.”

You nod. “Umm,” Izuku starts, his voice is quiet and hesitant, “just to clarify, honey, you’re not attaching it, are you?”

You tilt your head to the side, pouting, you say in a serious and saddened tone, “I thought you trusted me.” Your boyfriend shakes his head, “I do—”

“I’m kidding. Of course I’m not?” That wasn’t supposed to be a question, but it turns into one as you look back to Dr Kita and he nods. “You think I’d just let you operate without any qualifications or training? I hope you know what you’ll find beneath that dressing.” You laughing nervously, unable to tell if Dr Kita is joking or if he’ll actually make you operate on Izuku “Of course I do.”

Dr Kita agrees to speak to one of the orthopaedic surgeons to arrange Izuku’s prosthetic attachment, clearing up that you in fact WILL NOT be performing surgery on your boyfriend (as you shouldn’t be). You both thank him profusely and soon, it’s just the two of you again.

You two settle into a comfortable conversation, talking about everything that’s happened over the past month. You find out that it wasn’t until last week that Shoto and Ingenium had been brought onto the mission because of how close they were getting to the organisation orchestrating the sale of young women for quirk breeding.

“I still can’t believe that that still exists in this day and age.” You’re utterly discussed by this and it’s apparent in your voice. Izuku nods in agreement.

He continues on, telling you how he’s been rooming with Dynamight in this abandoned apartment overlooking a series of night clubs since the mission started. It’s been filled with lots of teasing and arguing. Getting older, going off on their own, Midoriya and Bakugou’s relationship isn’t as… explosive (like what I did there?) as it was at UA. Being high-ranking pro heroes now, the competition between them is friendlier. Not friendly. But, friendlier. There was a healthy rivalry between them now.

“If I’m being honest though,” Izuku lowered his voice to a whisper as he leaned closer to you, “I’m glad that it’ll be back to the two of us from now on.”

“WHAT WAS THAT DIPSHIT?!”

You turn in shock as Dynamight bursts into the room, door slamming into the wall, hinges shaking. He’s in a hospital gown, bandaged arms peaking out.

“Kacchan!” Izuku says, surprised by his visit. You were surprised that Dynamight could still hear Izuku despite how loud his explosions are. You thought he would have hearing aids by now. Or does he? Fuck, his spiky ass hair is in the way so you can’t see clearly.

“The fuck happened to you?” Bakugou questions, stopping right next to you and pointing at where Izuku’s left arm should have been.

Okay, you’re not having that. “Hey!” You stand up, puffing up your chest and getting in the ash blond’s face. Not that you can cause he literally towers over you, but you get an A for effort girlie. “None of this would of happened if you weren’t such a hothead!”

Fun fact, you’ve actually met Bakugou. You met him last year at the annual pro hero conference afterparty. It was brief, but you already knew from Izuku’s stories that this man was quite… rough. Your meeting then only confirmed such beliefs when he was shouting at Izuku for having a girlfriend and not bringing her around to meet his friends sooner.

“OI, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO, PIPSQUEAK?!” He yells in back in your face. His breath is hot as it hits your face. “YOU FUCKFACE! You’re the reason my boyfriend lost his arm.” Your fingertips jab his chest. Holy truck he’s hard. This man is built like a fridge.

“Tch. YOUR BOYFRIEND IS THE REASON HE LOST HIS ARM! IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE CAN’T EVEN CONTROL HIS QUIRK.” Bakugou’s hands grab your upper shoulders, gripping them tight. They’re sweaty and stick to your baggy graphic tee. “OI! GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME before you start going off.” Your fingers grasp his wrists. They’re hotter than you’ve ever felt before. You can feel his pulse beating.

“Kacchan, that’s enough.” Izuku says like a primary school teacher scolding a child.

“I’LL DECIDE WHEN IT’S ENOUGH!” Bakugou’s fingers squeeze into the flesh of your biceps. You yelp reflexively.

“Kacchan!”

“ALRIGHT ALRIGHT.” He releases you from his grasp. Now leaning close to you, almost touching, to point at Izuku. But before he can get a word out, Izuku tells him off, “Can you at least apologise for hurting my girlfriend?”

“FINE.” Bakugou looks down you, not moving an inch. “I’m sorry, okay?” You just nod, leaning slightly backwards to keep you two from touching. This man really has no hold on personal space, does he?

Bakugou energetically points at Izuku, yelling “LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE DEKU! HOW ARE YOU GOING TO BE A HERO NOW?! Tch. And I thought you were my equal. I WOULD NEVER GO N’ GET MY ARM CUT OFF LIKE THAT!”

You end sitting back down once Bakugou leaned even further in. This isn’t really any better though. His hips are very close to your face so, you’ve settled for just turning away from him to look at Izuku. And broccoli boy just takes it. He doesn’t try to stop Bakugou from having his little tantrum. It’s probably better this way anyways. Bakugou can just get it off his chest and be done with it.

I guess he made a good choice for his hero name though, ‘Dynamight’, cause this guy really explodes. Sorry. That could of been sexual if I made it sexual. I meant his anger. Anyways…

After a while, Bakugou just stops hurling insult after insult. He finally huffs and sits down on Izuku’s bed.

“You’re such a dumbfuck, you know that?”

Izuku chuckles, “Yes, I know.”

“WHOSE GONNA BE MY COMPETITION NOW, HUH? WHAT? WHAT ICYHOT? IS THAT BASTARD REALLY GONNA BE MY RIVAL NOW?” Don’t tell me he’s gonna go at it again, you think. He really is just angry, like, limitlessly angry, isn’t he?

“Kacchan, you should keep your voice down. Shoto might—”

“YOU THINK I GIVE A FUCK IF THAT HALF N’ HALF BRAT HEARS ME—”

“I care, Kacchan,” Izuku sighs. He looks tired. Really tired.

You gently touch Bakugou on the arm. He looks at you with hostility, as if you’ve just committed an offence. “Bakugou, Izuku’s exhausted after everything that’s happened last night. Why don’t we give him some space so he can rest?”

The blond scoffs and shrugs you off, “Tch. As if. YOU.” He points at Izuku again as he stands up. “YOU BETTER FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT. I’M NOT LOSING MY NUMBER ONE RIVAL SO YOU BETTER GROW ANOTHER ARM OR SOMETHIN’!” He grabs you by the elbow, dragging you out of the room. You wave back at Izuku before sticking your thumb up and smiling, letting him know that it’s going to be okay and he can just rest. Izuku nods at this.

Bakugou doesn’t just take you out of the room, but continues to ‘guide’ you by the elbow, taking you down the hallway with him. You turn a corner and a café comes into view. “Um, Bakugou, where are we going?”

“Tch. Are you actually that dumb?” He drags you into the café and you just let him. You considered fighting back, at least just for your elbow, but it didn’t seem very promising given the ripples of muscles that are exaggerated by the bandages around his arms. He’s leading you to a table at the back where you see a head of half red and half white hair. OMG! IS THAT SHOTO?!

Of course, you were Izuku’s number one fan, but before meeting Izuku, you were actually a huge Shoto fan. Not that you didn’t like Izuku, but the half and half boy had caught your attention. You didn’t have a shrine dedicated to Shoto like Izuku has to All Might, but you would always stay up-to-date with his interviews, any new missions he’s on or news buzz he was involved in. He was quite popular back in your home country so it wasn’t too hard to find translations of media he was in. Actually, watching his interviews in Japanese had been revolutionary when you first started learning the language.

And now, you were about to meet him.

“Wait!!”You stopped suddenly, a few steps from the table, causing Bakugou to stumble-stop with you. “WHAT?!” He turned back to you, frowning hard. He’s gonna get some seriously deep wrinkles if he keeps making such expressions, you think. “I’m nervous, okay? Are we really going to go sit with Shoto?”

He barked out a laugh, “OF COURSE NOT. WOW, YOU REALLY ARE DUMB. I don’t know how Deku puts up with you.”

“Hey! That’s just mean,” you pout at him. He scoffs, “I’M ‘JUST MEAN’! GET OVER IT!” Bakugou’s face lowers down to yours just to yell at it. People were starting to stare. You could feel your cheeks beginning to flare up. “Bakugou,” you put your hand on the arm that was still holding onto your elbow, drawing another look of absolute offence and disgust from the blond. “People are staring.”

“Tch. OF COURSE THEY ARE. I’M DYNAMIGHT.”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s why—” He continues on, dragging you over to the table Shoto’s seated at. He shifts to make room on booth seat, seeing you two coming over. Bakugou throws you down onto the booth side of the table. You fall onto Shoto clumsily, repeating how sorry you are as you push up from him. He grasps your forearms, helping you sit upright, muttering, “It’s fine.”

Your [e/c] eyes meet his heterochromatic ones and for a moment, you forget to breathe. Wow… he’s so pretty. Those long lashes, clear skin, full lips. Even his scar is perfect. You notice the bandages wrapped around his head like a zumba headband. They loop through his dual-coloured locks. They look so soft from this angle. You giggle nervously once he draws his hands — one hot, the other icy — back to himself.

Your admiration of the hero is interrupted by the ear-scrapping sound of Bakugou pulling out the chair opposite and sitting in it unceremoniously. None of you speak for the next few minutes, and you notice that in this time, most of the onlookers return to what they’re doing.

“So…” You start, tapping your fingers on your clothed thighs.

“Deku told me you were ‘n engineer or somethin’. You’re gonna fix his arm, right?” Bakugou’s red eyes pierce through you with their intensity.

“What’s wrong with Izuku’s arm?” Shoto’s voice is so smooth. Honestly. It’s even nicer than in all of the interviews you’ve seen. You stutter on your inhale, hearing him speak. It’s low and fairly quiet, but confident at the same time.

“Tch. That bastard—”

“Oi,” you cut in, “that ‘bastard’ is my boyfriend. You better con—”

“Deku,” Bakugou glares at you, “got his arm ripped off.”

You sigh, turning slightly to Shoto. Oh my gosh! You’re heartbeat is pumping like you run up a flight of stairs. Are you about to talk to your favourite hero? Ahem, your second favourite hero. “Izu-chan didn’t ‘get his arm ripped off’. The surgeon amputated most of it as the damage was beyond his healing capabilities.”

“Oh.” Shoto looked down momentarily.

“Tch. What a baby. IF THAT WAS ME—”

“I KNOW BAKUGOU! Oh my god I know, we all know. You’re the fucking best hero ever. You would never let anything stop you or hurt you or whatever. We know, okay? Can you please give it a rest?” Your brows are knit together as you glare at him. He glares back. “Tch,” Bakugou leaned back in his seat, looking off to the side now, face in a scowl.

The table fell into silence again. You didn’t mean to go off at him, and now you must look really bad in front of Shoto. Fuck. You only had one chance and you blew it. You probably can’t even ask for his autograph anymore. Jeez, this is embarrassing. But you were feeling really stressed out by Bakugou and his attitude toward this whole thing. You’re pretty sure that if Izuku were here, that he would tell you that this is just how Bakugou is dealing with his emotions. But seriously like, does he ever shut the fu—

“You didn’t answer my question. Are you gonna fix ‘is arm or not?” Bakugou addresses you with less aggression this time. At least he’s trying. That’s really nice of him.

“Y-yea,” you mutter, looking down at your hands. It takes a few moments for you gather up some confidence, but when you do, you look back up at him, meeting his fiery gaze. “I’m going to build him a cybernetic arm which we’re going to surgically attach to his wound.”

“The fuck is ‘cyber… cyb… cyb’ fuck I DON’T KNOW. WHAT IS IT?”

“Cybernetic?” You raise your eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. “Yea, hurry up n’ spit it out already.” He’s glaring you down softly this time.

“Cybernetic is the same as bionic or prosthetic. Basically, I’m going to build him a robotic arm and replace what’s missing of his left arm with it.”

“So,” Shoto says, “Midoriya-kun will be part robot?”

You notice how perfect his posture is, how stoic the expression is on his face. Amazing… You nod, “That’s the plan. We don’t have much time, so I need to build and test it as soon as possible.”

“Then get the fuck out ‘ere. Seriously,” he’s leaning over the table now, “go build that shit.”

“Baku—”

“YOU HEARD ME! I’M NOT HAVING THIS—” Bakugou points vigorously to Shoto, “AS MY SOLE COMPETITION. YOU BETTER FIX HIM! ROBOT, NOT ROBOT, I DON’T CARE.” He’s standing at this point, palms on the table, leaning over mockingly to Shoto. “YOU AIN’T SHIT COMPARED TO ME ICYHOT!” Shoto turns to you, unfazed by Bakugou’s outburst. “Please excuse Bakugou’s behaviour. He’s upset over Midoriya-kun’s inju—”

“I’M NOT UPSET! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!” Bakugou’s hands begin to spark on the table, leaving scorch marks in their midst. He quickly wipes his palms on his hospital gown, muttering about how he’s going to have to pay for that.

You sigh, his words resonating with you. “You’re right. I need to get back to my place and start now. Thanks Bakugou.”

You stand up, ready to leave when Shoto catches you off guard. “We should at least get you a coffee then. I assume you’ll have a long night ahead of you?”

Oh my gosh! Is THE pro hero ‘Shoto’ offering to buy me, ME, a coffee? Oh my gosh! Yes! Yes sir!

You laugh nervously, trying to play it cool but you obviously fail, “O-oh, um, yea, okay, yea, that sounds good. Yea…” You meet his gaze. It’s soft. You might actually pass out from how excited you are right now.

“Tch. FINE. I’m not paying though.” Bakugou crosses his arms, shifting his weight onto one leg. Shoto dismisses the blond’s lack of enthusiasm with a wave of his hand. “I’ll pay.”

“Really?! Like, you-you’ll actually pay for my coffee?!” Fuck. That sounded so fangirl-y didn’t it? Shit. He’s gonna know. “Of course.” Shoto places his credit card on the circular table. Where did he get that from? “What would you like?”

You think for a moment. Maybe he brought his wallet. That makes sense. From what you’ve seen of Bakugou’s behaviour, he didn’t seem to be the type to pay for the date. Not this was a date. Concerning the coffee, you usually get a double shot oat milk cappuccino but you know that the answer that won’t make you seem like even more of a weirdo is probably an iced coffee.

“Um, I haven’t seen the menu.” A safe choice.

Shoto chuckles at this, shaking his head slightly. “Of course, sorry.” He rises from his spot on the booth and you notice that SOMEHOW he’s even taller than Bakugou. Oh… so is this why Bakugou’s so mad? Height is pretty sensitive subject for men, right? He’s also in a hospital gown with a few bandages wrapped around his arms at different sites. He motions for you to start walking and so you do. He follows you as you walk over to the counter.

You notice that they have oat milk and cappuccinos on the menu. What you don’t notice is that Bakugou ended up following you two over to the counter and was standing just behind you, off to your side, watching you intensely. His sudden “tch” alerts you to his presence.

“One large cappuccino with oat milk. And one egg salad sandwich. And a three of the ichigo daifuku. You want anythin’ else?” Bakugou looks down at you.

You lean up, whispering close to his ear, “Can you make it a double shot?”

“Make that a double shot for the cap. OI! ICYHOT, what do you want?”

Shoto’s heterochromatic eyes widen for a moment before he chuckles softly. “I’ll have an iced coffee. Medium please.” He looks back at the explosive blond who clicks his tongue. Bakugou rolls his eyes, telling the server, “Two iced coffees. Both Medium.”

Bakugou ends up paying for your order and shooing you and Shoto back to your seats while he waits for it to be ready. You laugh and Shoto smiles lightly, seeing your good mood. “What is it?” He asks, looking at you curiously. You giggle, “He’s such a softie, huh?” You playfully elbow Shoto’s side. His brows furrow slightly, revealing his confusion. “Bakugou?” You nod in agreement, still smiling stupidly. “He’s all—” you puff up your chest and curl your arms like a tough guy, “rawr I’m Dynamight I’m so tough when really, he’s quite caring, isn’t he?” Shoto nods slowly, “Sometimes.”

You two stay quiet for a minute or two before Shoto says, “Midoriya-kun talks a lot about you.” You look back at him like he just grew a second head. “Really?” I mean, it made sense. You two had been together for about three years now. Shoto nods, “He could talk about you for hours. He could barely contain himself during the mission.” You giggle, “You make it sound like he loves me as much as All Might.” At this, Shoto gives you a small smile. “Maybe he does.”

“Ahh don’t start putting ideas in my head or I won’t be able to concentrate.” You dramatically place the back of your hand on your forehead, sighing in feigned distress. “My apologies…” He regains this neutral-curious look on his face. “I hope you don’t mind but, he told me that you were a big fan of mine.”

Oh fuck. Okay, it’s not funny anymore. “He what?” You stare wide-eyed at Shoto. He meets your gaze with a slight smirk. “You knew? Like, this entire time, you knew?” He offers you another nod. You let out a sigh, seeing Bakugou returning with your coffee and food. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“Why?” Shoto tilts his head at this. You whine, “Because, I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you. Did he tell you that I’ve seen ALL of your interviews? Like, every single one? Even when you were still at UA?”

Bakugou places the coffee tray on the table before setting the sandwich and daifuku in front of you. He distributes drinks. You have to admit, yours looks so good! The foam is so fluffy, just the way you like it. “Thank you, Bakugouuuuuu.” You draw out the last syllable of his name. You take a sip, moaning softly at how yummy your coffee tasted. The two heroes just stare at you. One slightly embarrassed and the other pleased. “Yea, I know right. The barista here makes a mean as fuck coffee.”

“Mhmm, this is so good! They don’t disappoint.” Bakugou watches you as he sips on his own coffee, a shit eating grin on his face. Provider Bakugou unlocked?

You look down at the food in front of you, tearing the paper bag that the daifuku came in into three pieces. As you put one of the snacks on each piece, you say, “Yea, I’m like seriously a huge fan. I have a lot of your merch too. BUT, my number one hero is Izuku. You’re my number two hero.” You wink at Shoto as you slide the daifuku over to him.

Bakugou chokes on his sip. He starts coughing furiously. On instinct, you stand up and are about to go to his side and pat his back when he holds up his hand, “I cough I-I’m cough fine cough.” You sit back down, watching him ride out the wave that is his coughing fit. Seeing him coming to the end of it, you ask, “You okay?”

“LOOK AT ME! OF COURSE I’M FINE.” Shoto laughs, watching Bakugou trying to shake off the blush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. “Are you surprised that I’m her second favourite and your not?” Shoto provoking Bakugou? You never thought the day would come when you would see this holy sight.

“OI! DON’T START SOME SHIT YOU CAN’T FINISH YOU HALF AND HALF BASTARD!!” You start laughing hard as you slide Bakugou’s daifuku over to him. “OI! WHAT’S SO FUNNY?” You start laughing even harder, leaning back in your seat, arms wrapping around your belly. “Y-you are,” you laugh out. Your tummy begins to hurt, tears of joy gathering in your eyes. You watch through glassy eyes as Bakugou shoves the dessert whole in his mouth angrily.

“Oi. Shut it.” But it sounds more like “Shuf ip” as he speaks while chewing. You salute, giggling, “Yes sir.” At this, Bakugou rolls his eyes.

You have a moment of clarity. Or delusion, you decide. Actually, he’s quite handsome too. You couldn’t really see it before because of his rather… energetic personality. But, there’s something quite attractive about the sharpness of his features. You can see why so many of your friends like him so much.

“I’M WAY BETTER THAN THIS FUCKWIT—”

“Oi, there could be kids around—”

“I should be your second favourite instead.” Bakugou crosses his arms again, with one large hand enveloping at least half of his drink. You shake your head, giggling again, “Oh yea.” You meet his gaze. “Prove it.”

Shoto looks with wide eyes between you two. “PROVE WHAT?” Bakugou’s leaning forward and so do you. “Prove that you’re a way better hero than Shoto.” He barks out his laughter once again in your face, it’s sharp and short. “HAVE YOU SEEN MY TRACK RECORD? Tch. AS IF I HAVE TO PROVE ANYTHING TO YOU, PIPSQUEAK.” He rolls his eyes, leaning back and sipping his coffee down inhumanly fast. “You right? You’ll get a tummy ache if you drink it that fast.” You look down at his quickly emptying drink before looking back up into his red eyes. He stops sipping, only ice left, “SHUT UP.”

You decide now that you’ll stop riling him up. Dynamight is a pretty cool hero. And to be honest, you do wear his merch because Izuku owns a significant amount of it. Being a pro hero, Izuku usually got discounts or free merch from other heroes. Being his girlfriend, he usually got you any merch you wanted. You feel kinda bad for pissing Bakugou off after he’s been so nice to you. Well, as nice as Bakugou gets for a someone he’s just met (the first time doesn’t really count as it was so brief).

“I’m sorry for suggesting that you’re not a cool hero, Dynamight. You are a cool hero and I’ll tell Izuku how nice you’ve been to me.” You smile at him. But this seems to have the opposite intended effect of soothing the tension.

“SHUT UP YOU DUMMY!” He looks away from you, getting up abruptly to throw his cup in the bin. He takes the torn pieces of the paper bag with him as you pop the daifuku into your mouth. Mhmmm, it’s so yummy too! The fresh strawberry is so sweet!

“He’s flattered,” Shoto chimes in. You look at him confused. “Are you sure?” He nods before asking, “Do you really own my merch? That must make Midoriya-kun uncomfortable.”

“Hmm,” you think about it for a few seconds, hearing Bakugou scrape his chair against the floor again. “Not really, I mean, have you seen how much All Might merch he owns?” You raise your brows in exaggeration. Giggling, you add, “I should be uncomfortable.” Shoto just looks at you, wating for you to continue while Bakugou begins picking at the chips of the table.

“We actually talked about it when we started dating. Izu-chan knows that I’m your fan. I’m not like in love with you or something, you know? I like what you stand for, I think you’re pretty attractive, and I admire how hard you work in your career. I do wear your merch a lot though. That makes Izu-chan jealous sometimes.” You ramble on mindlessly. Shoto looks down, “O-oh.”

It’s true. You couldn’t fathom the idea of being in love with a man you’ve never met, like you know some girls are with the respective objects of their affection. I say object because what they’re in love with is a commodity, an image, not a person. That would be super awkward if you were infatuated with Shoto. Especially since Izuku and Shoto work together sometimes.

“Stop talking and eat your sandwich.” Bakugou points to the untouched egg salad sandwich on the table. He’s right, if you’re gonna be up all night building a cybernetic arm, you had better eat up.

“Thanks Bakugou!” He rolls his eyes. “Don’t thank me, just hurry up and eat before I make you.” His voice was gruff as he stared hard at you. You giggle one last time before unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite.

This place has seriously good food.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #established relationship #x female reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku x y/n #shoto todoroki #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bnha midoriya #bnha todoroki #fem!reader #amputee midoriya #izuku angst

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