#but the fact that he could still do them with my added weight would make me 😳😳

[guzmapkmn-archive]

g.uzma does pushups while i sit on his back. yeah.

[nanaminokanojo]

Honey, Oh Sugar, Sugar

JJK men as your sugar daddies and what happens when you tell them you're breaking​ things off cause you've secretly fallen for them and "breached" the contract. Or me just being hung up on the whole concept of sugar daddies cause I don’t wanna work anymore and I need Nanami in my life.

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo x you/afab reader TW/CW: angst | smut/implied smut | sorta dubcon | age gaps | aged up characters | kind fluffy | mentions of alcohol/drugs | some mafia stuff | mdni Word Count: 8.1k

MASTERLIST

NANAMI

'I can't see you right now.'

Those words glared at you, sharp black slashes that marred the white backdrop of your screen. They may not carry much weight without context, but they broke you a thousand times weighed on you like the sky had fallen over, crushing you as you heard the voice behind the words, making you regret every other choice you've made so far.

They blurred out as tears started to flood your eyes, falling on the device in your hand, but the pain they caused didn't fade in the least. If anything, you felt exponentially worse, enough to make you wish for death. It was more for the fact that you knew it was your fault, a result of your weakness and lack of prudence, your over-estimation of yourself and biting off more than you can chew. 

Still, how were you to know back then? How the fuck were you supposed to know that things would end up making you feel as miserable as you did? How the fuck could you have been able to tell that you'd be wishing to tear yourself away from the only thing that seemed to make your life make sense? 

If you were told that gods existed and walked in Prussian blue button-downs and khaki shorts as they surveyed their domain from the balcony of their private beach houses, you wouldn't have believed it. But Nanami Kento came into your life in that same exact form, a stoic, tall blonde, ten years your senior, successful in all his endeavors but always too busy for anything. 

Nanami Kento was your best friend's neighbor – at least at their beach-front rest house. It was funny how he was supposed to be this well-known yet aloof individual in the community. And yet, the moment you were introduced to him, he purposefully made a way to be around you where you fell into easy conversation with him. Your friend told you their neighbor hardly ever stayed at his summer retreat for longer than two days, popping out one day only to be replaced by the caretakers who would then tell them that "Nanami-san had an emergency business trip." On top of that, he never really showed up when your friend's parents would invite him for whatever, consistently declining politely, but because of you, he finally honored one of their invitations. 

However, it made you wonder what he found so interesting in a university student like you when his life was so much more exciting, being the founder of his own company. He was a bachelor at thirty two, and he's got everything figured out while you were in the final year of your higher education, and you still didn't know what to do with your life. 

The reason became evident when you met him again after insisting that you should before you parted that evening at the beach, even leaving you his calling card. 

How your conversation went from how his work was going and how your studies were to his proposition for you to be basically his sugar baby was something you couldn't fathom at that time. He just went on about coming clean and expressing his real intentions, then later asked you to think about it before dishing out a conversation about how the two of you should meet again to draft the parameters of your arrangement. Nanami later apologized, smiling apologetically for startling you – the biggest understatement of the century – adding that he wasn't one to beat around the bush. 

"I hope I didn't scare you away," he said when dropping you off to campus.

A week later, you signed a contract with him, and then he kissed you, taking your breath away instead of shaking your hand to seal your pact. Everything went smoothly. It seemed a good idea back then. Boy you wished there was a time when you could have been more mistaken in your life. 

You let out a mirthless laugh as you realized you were at the end of the rope regarding Nanami. You cannot handle it anymore when, for the past half year, you've been putting off talking to him about the state of matters from your end. You know you're breaching your agreement, which is a testament to the reality of your liaisons. You failed at keeping it emotionless, evidently, and every single time you think about coming clean and facing rejection, you felt like cowering in fear. 

You already know how binding those agreements were. Nanami had been clear about what he wanted, and you also agreed because you thought you wanted precisely that – an arrangement without commitment, one you can easily get out of without issues. He would not want you if he knew the truth, and although it took far too much strength and courage to accept it, you managed. But now that you have finally decided to speak to him, he tells you he can't be there. Then again, you didn't even have the right to demand his time. 

It came in a cocktail of emotions when you realized you didn't want his money or anything else he had to offer. You only wanted one thing: his heart. Too bad it was off the table. It's not something he offered to ever be in your contract. 

You hated yourself for being weak, for opening up when you should have remained frozen even towards him. But you couldn't help it when your heart started confusing his caring side for actual feelings over his usual acts of reminding you that he was still the older one between you and actually had the responsibility to take care of you whether you've got an arrangement or not.

You sure as hell didn't regret the perks that came with it – trips to any place you could name, things you get with just one word, and the amazing love-making that came with it. Nanami was a great lover. It never just felt like sex in a transactional manner. It always showed how much of a sensitive soul he is, how much he cared for you. But it's not exactly in the way you wanted it.

"I like you, and I enjoy your company, but being me, this is all I can offer at the moment."

Those were his words, and though it's not explicitly written in the contract, you knew it was over when you started perceiving him as the center of your universe. That was no good, and maybe he knew, considering how he had been "too preoccupied" when you said you wanted to talk. Suddenly, he didn't have time for you, but you wanted to tell him of your decision to end matters in person. He deserved that, at least. Nanami was just too good, and you didn't want him to do the guesswork.

That same night, you walked out of the luxury flat he rented for you, packing a bottle of wine, which you ended up drinking at your best friend's house.

You woke up the next day, still groggy from all the alcohol you drank, to the sound of your best friend speaking angrily to someone in hushed tones. She was telling someone off and threatening them about answering if something ends badly, but then you hear your name.

"Y/N's a really sensitive person underneath regardless of what she says," she tells whoever she is talking to. You don't hear the response to her statement, but there was a long pause, and then you hear the front door open and close with her declaration to give this person their space.

It wasn't long before the guest room door opened, and you found yourself face-to-face with Nanami. You motioned to get up, but he shook his head and sat beside you on the bed.

"Why did you leave?" he asked, straight to the point as always. You didn't expect anything less, but you couldn't look him in the eye as you said, "I can't do this anymore." 

Much to his surprise, you started crying the moment you spoke. It was so atypical of you to show him any kind of weakness, always so independent in your actions and words that he felt useless at times, so he found the need to reach out and hold you.

You flinched. "Please don't."

Nanami sighed, running his fingers through his usually perfect hair. For the first time, you notice how it's not fixed the way it should be and how he has dark rings under his eyes, his cheeks a bit sunken. He looked at you, expressions unfathomable, but you saw how he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Why not?"

His question angered you, that much he could tell, and it was obvious how you were trying your very best to calm down. You sat up and he felt the need to brace himself for whatever you will say.

"I'm ending this...this..."

"Arrangement," he supplied for you, to which you nodded, the sting of that word evident on your face. "Yes, that."

He nodded in understanding, but he stared you down with a pensive look on his handsome face, and you wanted just to run before you fell even harder. "May I at least know why?"

You bit your lower lip, looking elsewhere but him as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You didn't know how on earth you were going to explain it to him in detail, but as he gave it to you straight and simple, you thought it best to do the same. It would be self-explanatory anyway.

Wringing your fingers, you all but whispered, "Kento, I'm in love with you." When he didn't speak, you started rambling on about how you knew things wouldn't change if you said it and that he's got more important things to deal with over your "childish feelings" but that you can't help it.

"Say that again," he told you.

"What?" You didn't realize he had moved closer, his face merely inches from yours and his other arm caging you on your spot.

"The first thing you said. Say it again." He sounded commanding as he was used to, but then he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, feeling defeated. "Please?" he said, sounding small, unsure.

You wiped the tears off your face, sniffling. You've resigned yourself to the bad outcomes of your actions. "I'm in love with you."

"If that's the case, wouldn't you want to be with me?"

"Because you said you could only offer me this arrangement."

At that, he looked up at you, cupping your face with his hands and staring you straight in the eyes, eyes you couldn't lie to. You were somewhat surprised that he didn't have a single clue as to what had been ailing you as perceptive as he was. Then again, maybe you were just too good at hiding it until you weren't, everything hidden behind the smokescreen of your physical intimacy and the pretty smiles you would offer his way.

"Be honest with me. Did it ever feel like it's just that?" he asked cautiously, groping for words.

This time, you couldn't hold back and began tearing up again, your anger finally rearing itself on the surface. "That's exactly the problem!" You pried his hands off of you and stood up. "I can't figure you out, and I don't want to be confused anymore. We had an agreement, I know that, and I'm sorry, but it hurts too much knowing you can give me anything I ask for but not what I want the most."

He also stood up, invading your space and pulling you towards him. He wasn't about to just lose you, not without a fight. Nanami made you look at him, his arm around your waist tight as he commanded your attention but still gentle and giving you your leeway to run if you wanted. You, on the other hand, didn't need much restraining nor convincing as you found yourself looking into his eyes and wanting nothing but to be close and be able to hold him, own him and all that he is, love him, and love him hard, love him over and over again, surrender your heart and let him have you even if you knew he could never give it back.

But all your notions were dispelled with a few choice words. "You never asked."

"I – what?"

"The thing you want the most that you claimed I can't give you. You never asked for it."

Ah. You chuckled without humor. Of course, it's on you for not asking. "Because I can't! That's not how it works. It's not my place to ask. I've no place of that nature in your life."

"Really now, Y/N?" Nanami looked stung, annoyed even, when typically, he wouldn't even show you a disapproving look at your worst behavior around him.

"It's okay. This is on me." You stepped back from him, resigning yourself to the idea of not seeing him again and saying goodbye. "And I know you're busy, so don't worry about me. I just really wanted to tell you personally, at least. I'll be fine."

"I won't be..."

"Stop it! You said so yourself –"

"I said 'at the moment' back then if I remember it correctly?"

You shrugged. "Kento, you don't have to hyper-analyze what you said back then. Don't stress –"

At that, his expressions changed, and he appeared manic, so different from his calm and composed demeanor. "This is stressing me out."

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

You shook your head. Pity was the last thing you needed, and hearing those words in such a context, even less so. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. You can't just assume things like that. And though I detest confrontations like this, I'm prepared to be in conflict with you for it if it means you stay with me."

You smiled ruefully at him, coming closer to hug him, holding onto whatever you could while you still had time, taking in the way he smelled, the way his hair felt against your palms. "You're really too nice. Don't say things like that even if you feel bad for me. You don't have to."

Nanami sighed again, looking absolutely tired, but had it in him to smile despite your words. "Y/N, I just got the shovel talk with your best friend after I told her I love you – rather graphic, too – and you're telling me you don't have a place in my life? I would not even be here if you didn't matter to me. You, of all people, should know that I don't waste my time on things I don't find worthwhile, but I am here, am I not?"

You felt your heart thundering in your chest as you minced his words, unable to process everything at the moment, but you found yourself overwhelmed with joy that your feelings weren't one-sided. "You are."

"But you're right, so let's end this arrangement."

Swallowing hard, you nodded.

"Let's make this the real thing without agreements and roles. What do you say about that?" He tilted his head to have a closer look at you. 

Everything be damned, but you were taking your chances. "Okay," you whispered.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, too. If it's my heart you want, you can have it. It's yours. All yours, my sweet."

You bit your lower lip, fighting a smile as you glanced at him from under your lashes, not trusting yourself to speak.

Nanami leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he held you closer. "I love you," he repeated.

"I know."

He chuckled. "Now you know. But that's not what I want to hear, Y/N. I said, I love you."

Instead of a response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as you stood on your toes to claim his lips with yours, your toes curling as he reciprocated in kind. This one felt different, not like some sort of transaction or a thank you for the things he provides for you. It felt like the real thing...like love.

"Then I love you, too."

TOJI

"She's an associate, Y/N. Stop being such a brat," Toji tells you the moment he arrived at the penthouse where he was housing you a good hour after you stormed out of the party he was hosting. You looked over your shoulder to find his tall, broad form leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed and...smirking.

"Or are you doing this on purpose 'cause you want daddy to punish you, hmm?"

You scoffed as you angrily wiped your tears, entering the walk-in wardrobe and slamming the door shut. You just wanted to be away from him, be able to think without him influencing your thoughts. If Fushiguro Toji was a drug, he'd most certainly be heroin – absolutely addictive with slim chances to none in terms of recovery, but you still wanted more, more, and some more. And you fell right into that trap, very much aware of it all.

You were a budding freelance journalist who got into a tangle with his organization after a wrong lead. He had been nice to you on the get-go, the understanding and very accommodating kumicho letting Miss Nosey off the hook. You kept running into him after that until one drunken evening at one of his clubs, where he had to rescue you from a guy who couldn't take no for an answer.

He drove you home, and instead of getting out of his car, the two of you got talking, and he started showing you pictures of his adorable son. And after fucking you senseless in that same car, he offered you an arrangement you thought you couldn't refuse at that time.

Slowly, you found yourself weaving into Toji's complicated life and seeing beyond just the ruthless gang leader who showered you with everything and anything he could give. The sky is the limit where Toji was concerned, and he was outrageous about the presents he would give you. But that always came with a catch. He took as much as he gave, probably more, and he was possessive of you. It wasn't healthy how he could do whatever the fuck he wanted while your rewards came with limitations attached to them.

Still, you stayed and got lost in the maze that was the workings of his mind and his personal life, which was just about his little boy. You instantly fell in love with Megumi and, in the process, with Toji himself. You know that now without a doubt, and it scared the living daylights out of you.

That realization came gradually. At first, you chalked it up to just a physical response, inducing chemicals in your head that gave you the illusion and delusion of emotional affection. What's love got to do with it, right? At first, it was little things like wanting to see him at the most random times of the day, missing him, and such. Then it escalated into incremental degrees of possessiveness, which you thought was fair given his inclination to call you his, be that in words while he's balls-deep in you or the way he would suddenly hold onto you with those large hands in the presence of others.

And quite frankly, you seemed to have picked up on that habit the wrong way, learning to reciprocate in the same way. It was messy business at best, but then again, it started just as messy.

The thought and reality of it hadn't felt as real as it did when you saw another woman clutching just as possessively at his arm. It seemed innocent, but seeing those blood-red nails brushing on his muscled arms as if their owner had any right to do it or had probably staked their claim made your blood boil, and your heart break. All the while, in your head, you were repetitively saying, "He's mine. I had him first."

You're in love with him, and that's a fact. Because why else would you be having such intense emotional outbursts over the fact that he was dangling another woman in his arms? It's a fact you didn't want to face anyway. He's supposed to be your sugar daddy, nothing else. It came with its perks, but you're human, and Toji is irresistible in more ways than one and never limited to just how he satisfies you physically. You loved him, his son and everything that he is included.

And you thought it had to stop. He didn't see you that way.

You emerged from the wardrobe, pulling a suitcase behind you, and suddenly, tension filled the air as Toji straightened to his full height, sapphire eyes shifting between you and the luggage. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. Gone was his playful mood from earlier, replaced by something darker. He wasn't expressive, almost always looking bored out of his wits, and his facial muscles only rearranging in minute details to convey change, but it was enough to tell you to be on guard.

You walked towards him, mustering all your courage as you said, "I think we should end this."

"Because you're jealous?" He arched a brow at you. "I already told you –"

You shook your head, reaching up to touch his cheek, smiling as you traced downward before running your thumb against the scar at the side of his lips. While it made him look like a hooligan, you always thought it was a part of his charm. "That's hardly the issue here. As cliché as it is, it's not you; it's me. Thank you for everything, Toji. Give my love to Megumi."

At that, he chuckled. "And you expect me to just sit back with that sorry excuse? What do you take me for?"

Your eyes flashed in anger at the way he was undermining the circumstances. "Toji, I'm serious. It may be a sorry excuse for you, but it's not the same for me."

He stepped closer, looming over you. "So, speak up. Do I look like I'm playing here, sweetheart?"

"I...I can't..."

"What now?" He smirked, but you saw hurt cross his features, making you hesitate. It was too late when you realized you were stuck between a hard place and Toji, literally and figuratively. Your back hit the wall, and a second after, he slammed a palm just beside your head, staring you down. "I'm just a lowlife so I don't even deserve any proper explanation, is that it?"

"What? No! That's the last thing on my mind!" you retorted.

"So what? You're done writing your little reveal-all piece on me, so you're cutting me loose?"

How dare he, you thought. You were faithful to your agreement with him, and not once did you ever think of betraying him like that. Again, you were overwhelmed by the intensity of how you felt for him. You shook your head, trying to hold it in when your feelings were close to slipping out of your lips from the tip of your tongue. You didn't like the way he was looking at you as if you murdered his son and only family, but why were you making him angrier?

"If that's what you want to think, then fine."

"So fucking tell me, woman!"

"You should know by now that your intimidation tactic doesn't work on me," you told him dryly.

"You really are my woman," he says proudly, almost love-struck, but you weren't about to buy it.

"Let me go."

"And if I don't?"

"You wouldn't like what I will do, Toji."

"Oh, is that so?" Toji wasn't a patient man, but he always took his time with you, and that trait of his was proven to you for the first time when, in the next moment, you found yourself upside down after he hauled you onto his shoulder and easily carried you to the bed.

Before you knew it, you were on the mattress, but upon realizing what he was about to do, you started beating him on the chest with your fists, tears spilling out of your eyes. It was futile, you knew that, but you still wanted to get away from him. He easily pinned your hands down, silencing your protests with his lips as he took possession of yours. And just like that, you were docile as a kitten under his mercy and the heat of his touch.

"Do you still wanna leave me?" You just glared at him, your lack of response making him grit his teeth and tear the dress you were wearing off of you.

"Toji, what the – mmph!"

Again, he swallowed your words, his hands roaming over your now naked body. He pulled back only to say, "I'm giving you a chance to talk now, darling. Don't waste it." He then started kissing your neck, going lower and lower, the sounds he was making distracting you. "I'm listening, Y/N. And don't give me another bullshit excuse."

Your misery mingled with the carnal pleasure he was pulling out of you, coming in rivulets of tears as you half-sobbed, half-moaned at the way he was touching everything his hands could reach while he ground his crotch against yours.

"Toji, please stop," you pleaded, and he did, flashing you a pained look. For the first time, it seems that he was showing you the real person behind all the facade, the version of Fushiguro Toji exclusively reserved for Megumi.

He sat on his haunches, looking down at your vulnerable form as you covered your face with your arms and continued to sob. "I-I'm sorry..."

"No. I'm sorry," you answered between deep draws of breath. You weren't crying because of what he was doing. It was more for the fact that you were hurting him as much as your arrangement was hurting you. "But what the hell can I do?"

He hovered over you, prying your hands away from your face as gently as he could and peppering your face with kisses. "What is it, darling? Come on, tell me."

"I broke our agreement..." You looked away from him.

He eyed you quizzically. "And how did you do that?"

"By falling in love with you." You finally met his gaze. "I know you said our liaisons will not go beyond just what we really are to each other, but I couldn't help it. I care for you and Megumi, so much so that I want to be a genuine part of your lives. And it's not my place to ask, so I'm sorry."

To your surprise, he laughed, like really laughed, and you haven't felt so embarrassed in your life after pouring your heart out to him. You wanted the whole place to crumble into a pit and take you with it. 

When he was calm enough, he said, "Fucking finally!"

"What?"

He sighed, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to say that to me?"

You paled but at the same time, you felt your face getting hot, realizing what he meant. "You knew?"

"From the moment it happened, yes. You think you can just walk out on me like that?" He shook his head. "Don't act like you don't know me at all."

"Y-you –" You didn't know what to say, getting up halfway only to be met with a scorching kiss that left you breathless.

Toji undid his pants, letting his cock spring free, and then lifted you onto his lap, holding you close. "I knew you were made for me the moment Megumi's eyes lit up the first time he asked if you were gonna be his new mommy."

"He did?" you asked in muffled tones against the crook of his neck.

"So what do you say? 'Cause I was dying to say yes." He kissed your temple, and underneath, you could feel him preparing to align himself with you.

You pulled away, holding his head between your hands as you looked at him in disbelief. "You were?"

He rolled his eyes. He really wasn't good at this. "Yes, darling. Now, are you still gonna leave me? Us?"

You pouted. "You're not just using Megumi to make me stay, right?" You gasped when he nudged your entrance, knowing he's got you in the bag. "I won't even let you near my son if I didn't want you as much as I do. But I got the best wingman, no?"

You just stared at him in disbelief but he prompted you by thrusting upward and breaking you away from your reverie, a high-pitched moan ripping out of your throat.

"Come on, Y/N. Decide so I can love you as much as you want me to." He grinned deviously at you. "Not that I plan to do otherwise if you decide to go."

"And if I go anyway?"

He smirked. "I don't know, love. I'm yakuza after all."

"Is that a threat?!" You smacked him on the chest, earning you a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. "Yes. Can I love you now?" he asked and you swore he looked just like Megumi when he would beg you for goodies. So, how can you say no to that?

~*~

GOJO

"Where have you been?"

The silence you expected to arrive to at the penthouse was broken the moment you walked by the vast living room. You almost dropped the red heels you held when you heard that familiar voice echo through the room, quiet yet deadly.

You visibly froze before turning around to see the owner of the voice. He looked upset, those usually bright orbs of aquamarine having turned into cold, hard gems as they regarded you. The darkness of the room that surrounded him like a miasma didn't help in quelling the tension in the room. If there was one thing Gojo Satoru hated, it's when he is disobeyed, and you flouting his orders and going out to party wasn't an exception. Sure, he doted on you and always showered you with gifts and affection, but being part of his world meant you needed to follow strict rules in exchange for the lavish life he provided for you.

You knew you should not have gone anywhere apart from your university and the place you called home. You knew you should not have given his men trouble by thinking you were at home after you snuck out, but you thought, why not? Gojo wasn't supposed to be back until the following day anyway, "Negotiations," he called them. You didn't want to feel alone in such an empty space, which was becoming more frequent as of late. You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you refused to and you wanted to act out.

Choosing to aggravate his foul mood further, you shrugged and attempted to walk past without saying anything, but you effectively stopped when he said, "Stop right there. We're not done talking."

Veering to look at him with the coldest expression you could muster, you retorted, "I went out with my friends. What's the big deal?"

He stood up from his seat, evidently pissed off at your attitude. "I thought I told you. It's dangerous, Y/N. I'm just trying to protect you. What if something happened to you?"

"They're your enemies, Satoru, not mine."

"It doesn't change the fact that they will hurt you if they can!" He had such a menacing look on his face when he was angry which you thought never belonged with those easy smiles and generally perfect visage of his. Someone so beautiful being shrouded in darkness was a violation to nature, and Gojo was just so.

"Well then, maybe I shouldn't have gotten together with you!" you shouted back, throwing your expensive shoes on the floor, imagining it was an extension of him you wished to hurt. "I could be in danger; I understand that. I'm not stupid, but I never cared for any of that as long as I have you, but you're never there! Why should I stay put when you tell me to?"

Gojo was evidently taken aback at your outburst, not believing that this was the welcome he gets after being away. At the same time, he felt guilty and deserving of your harsh treatment of him, feeling his heart sinking at your words. "You'll be safer that way," was all he could say.

You smirked at him, shaking your head. "And lonely. You forgot lonely." You shrugged, walking away from him. "I'm tired."

Having ended up in the bathroom where you found solace from Gojo, you leaned your arms and propped your chin on the rim of the huge tub, staring at the city lights through the glass walls. It seemed like a good idea to get tangled up with an older male who wanted to take care of you at your darkest moments, having been fired from your job and thrown out of your apartment which made you resort to sleeping in your car. 

That's how you met in the first place, making the mistake of parking around the outskirts of the city, hugging a can of pepper spray in your sleep when Gojo and his men decided to make an exchange at the empty parking lot of the warehouse nearby. Safe to say, it went awry when men started to pull out guns.

He took you home after his right-hand man spotted you in the car when your phone lit up at the wrong time. At first, he was suspicious of you, thinking you were an asset for an enemy clan. You were probably traumatized or in utter shock when your first reaction to him after seeing him break someone's neck a few yards from your car was to tell him he was beautiful while also shivering at the thought of how easily those gloved hands could murder you.

Gojo had been straightforward from the get-go, never hiding his intentions the moment he thumbed at your chin, forcing you to behold his beauty in all its glory which was just a bonus with how gentle, kind and caring he was towards you. And you clung to the dark angel who offered you a comfortable life away from the dangers of the streets, even offering to pay for your studies when he found out just how well you did in them. It seemed you were embroiled in more danger than you anticipated, however.

To say that you didn't know what kind of life you have entangled yourself in would be a lie. You knew just what kind of person Gojo Satoru is, his pretty hands and his very name stained in blood. The tattoos that adorned his beautiful alabaster skin were a dead ringer of just what kind of clan he belonged to, and it didn't help that he was surrounded by ruffians like a lone rose in a sea of thorns all the time.

They called him The Prince, even his enemies, and what a fitting name, at least to you with whom he showed his better side and true self underneath the emotionally constipated yakuza overlord that he is. But that was the very thing that broke your heart.

You had an agreement. Blatantly put, you are his pet, and he is your owner who poured money on trinkets he thought would make you happy in exchange for favors. That's it. You give him your body, and you get to have him for all those moments he is available. You wouldn't deny that it was an economically good proposition and beggars probably can never be choosers as was the case for you, but you never anticipated just what a lonely existence it would be on top of it being dangerous when you were deemed his weakness.

What a laugh. You weren't his weakness, not even remotely close. It was all for naught when your life is being put in line because of stupid assumptions his enemies resorted to. You will die if you don't toe the line according to Gojo's standards, and for what? They'd probably think they hurt him, but really, they're just giving him an excuse to go on a rampage, which will be for reasons vastly different from their thoughts.

But more than anything, the most significant matter at stake was your heart, if not your sanity. Letting that information out during your outburst was a faux pas on your part, and you emotionally prepared yourself to leave the kind of life Gojo granted you in the first place. You've fallen for him, and that wasn't a good thing when he made it clear just what purpose you served for him.

The sound of water droplets from the faucet was suddenly interrupted by the glass doors sliding open to accommodate Gojo, who had already changed into a fluffy, white robe, shedding it off as he approached you. You didn't acknowledge his presence and merely watched his reflection through the wall. That didn't deter him from coming into the bathtub behind you and pulling you close.

"Would you please look at me, sweetheart?" he asked, his melodious voice making every fiber of your being tense. He wrapped an arm around you, his breath ghosting over your nape. "Did I make you that upset while I was away? I'm sorry, my pet."

His apology always came with a catch. You didn't have to enumerate them when you're only supposed to understand.

"Still mad at me? What does my Y/N want, hmm?" Gojo started placing kisses on your shoulder, moving upwards to your neck, but before it could cloud your judgment, you moved forward, gently taking his arm off of you, much to his dissatisfaction. He sighed, letting you have your space. "What's the problem?"

You hugged your knees to yourself, feeling the coldness of the air when you lost contact with him. "It's not something you could fix by kissing me." As if on cue, you absently scooped some soapy water and rubbed it over the areas he touched.

Being the brat used to having his way, Gojo scoffed. "Are you literally washing away my kisses?" It's just like him to ask about the trivial things when he feels like it. He reached out to touch you when you didn't answer but stopped when you flinched. He immediately turned serious, the air around you becoming charged with tension. "Y/N, will you please tell me what's bothering you?"

"You are."

"What?"

You leaned your forehead on your knees, feeling vulnerable to the whole world as you calmed your inner turmoil and tried to put in words how you felt, how things would end by your hand before he casts you away.

"I breached our contract."

Silence followed your words, and those mere seconds of pause felt like an eternity as you feared the worst. But then he said, "Will you elaborate on that?"

You lifted your head, throwing it back as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know I don't have any right to be demanding things from you, least of all hold it against you when I miss you in your absence."

"You miss me?"

"But I have no control over how I started feeling the way I do, becoming more pronounced whenever you're not with me. We had an agreement, I know that, but because I broke it, I guess I'll have to take it upon myself to end this."

"End what?" He straightened up, his blue eyes filling with dread. "What – what are you talking about?" He sounded angry this time but like that of an animal cornered as opposed to being the hunter.

You looked at him from over your shoulder. "I'm leaving you, Satoru."

A mix of emotions started to take shape with every nuance in his expression, as if he could not make up his mind about how he would feel about what you just said. For a split second, he looked at you as if you had obliterated his whole being, but then he calmed down, massaging the point between his blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I know my role, and I should just walk away before it gets out of hand."

"What role?"

You laughed without humor. "I am, in essence, just your sugar baby, Satoru. You give me things that you see fit. I don't get to demand anything from you."

"Is that how you see yourself?" His tone was scathing but calming at the same time. It makes things easier for you.

"Let's not pretend anymore, okay?"

"So what exactly are you telling me?"

"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" you asked in exasperation, your tears finally dripping from your eyes.

He let up on the harsh expression on his face upon seeing them. "Y/N, baby, don't cry. Please. I just need you to explain. I deserve at least that when you're telling me you want to –"

"I love you, Satoru." You smiled at him through your tears, the most sincere one you gave his way since you realized how you felt.

"You do?"

"I don't regret it regardless of the consequences."

"Y/N, I'm confused."

You didn't address that. Gojo was probably one of the most brilliant people you knew, but it was always easy to feign ignorance, regardless of that. Without addressing it, you motioned to get out of the tub, wondering where you'll start with packing, but then almost everything you owned was technically Gojo's. It would be easy, you thought.

"Anyway, you know now. I should go." 

Gojo wasn't having any of it. He stopped you, pulling you towards him. "You just told me you love me, and you're leaving me behind?"

You blinked. "Am I...not supposed to?"

Gojo smirked at you. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?"

You sank into the water, creating splashes in your wake. You didn't know how to feel about that. It was a choice between succumbing to that false sense of security you learned to accept during the three years you've been with him or relief over the possibility that he reciprocated your feelings. However, before you could even decide, Gojo chose to addle your brain by leaning in and taking possession of your lips, giving you no choice but to melt and submit to his touches.

It was passionate as usual, setting every ounce of your existence aflame while his hands roamed around every inch of your skin, marking his territory. You appreciated that about him, not holding back and giving you what you wanted without inhibitions, but you've always accepted that what you wanted the most, he could never ever give. You've resigned yourself to that fact, and yet, whenever he touches you, you are convinced otherwise because his actions always contrast his words. You hated how hope started to grow in your chest, and although he quickly turned you on, you fought against it and pulled away from him.

"N-no. Stop."

"Why?" He looked at you, kiss-drunk and dazed.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to force you to be beholden to me." You inched backward. "Just let me go."

Gojo clucked his tongue, sighing profoundly and covering his face with his hands in utter frustration. "What have I done?"

You shook your head. "It's not your fault."

"No..."

It was your turn to reach out to him, forcing his hands off of his face as you kneeled before him. "Satoru, you can hardly be blamed for how I feel. It's okay. I am not mad at you."

"Yeah, but I sure as hell am mad at myself." He let you take his hands but immediately reversed roles and held your hand in his. "Oh, Y/N. My sweet, sweet Y/N." His broad shoulders drooped down. "It's my fault why you're doing this right now for making you feel like you had to toe boundaries with me where your emotions are concerned."

"We signed a contract..."

He lifted his hand to tenderly graze your cheek, his icy blue eyes showing that misplaced warmth you've become familiar with even when he made someone beg for mercy. Gojo Satoru always shone brilliantly amid the darkness that surrounded him. You gravitated towards that light no matter how twisted it was.

"This is my doing."

"No –"

"But it's true." He smiled sadly at you. "I know what I am, and I am so deep in it that nothing could right the wrongs I've done. That contract was supposed to be a shield for you against me, Y/N, not the other way around."

"What?" Now you're confused.

"The moment you called me beautiful despite seeing what you did all those years ago, I knew I had to have you with me to have someone to see past the fear I instill in anyone who crosses paths with me." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to feel for me, nor did I want you to feel responsible for anything that involves me. I'm not so cruel that I'll subject you to that, but it's too late, no? I put you in danger, and you don't owe it to me that I am protecting you or giving you everything I thought you would want while keeping a safe distance. Turns out I've hurt you more."

You were taken aback, to say the least.

"But I do care for you more than I can admit or fathom." He beamed disarmingly as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I am in too deep, and maybe I should just accept that I do love you."

"Satoru..." 

"I love you, Y/N. Words are cheap, and it may be too late, but I really do." He placed his head on your shoulder as he embraced you, holding you tight, skin on skin. "But if you want to leave, I will let you. I will not be selfish and ask you to stay with me. I want you to do whatever you think is best for you without thinking of me."

Laughter wanted to escape from your throat, not because of mirth but from relief. But with that came the realization that you weren't free anymore, not where Gojo was concerned. He's setting you free, but the lock to your prison wasn't his to hold in the first place. You held yourself captive to him in the first place, locked yourself in, and threw the key away. Knowing he reciprocated your affection towards him just sealed you in a reinforced vault, dunked into the deepest trenches of the ocean that was his warmth. How the hell were you supposed to leave him now when you mistakenly thought you were grasping at straws when he was shackled to you all along?

Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around him, shaking your head at your foolishness. At this point, saying you didn't know what you were getting yourself into is a big, fat lie, and it was probably one you will never make the mistake of doing anyway, unable to deny yourself of what you wanted...what you needed.

"You really are a piece of work," you muttered.

"What did I do?" he whined like a child. In such moments, you almost always forget he was shy of a year to a decade older than you.

You chuckled, returning his words to him. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?" 

Gojo's head snapped up, now wearing a cheeky grin as he regarded you, his hands climbing up the back of your thighs before cupping your bare ass. "Is that so? I'm letting you do what you want, Y/N."

You scoffed. He's back to his usual self, toying with you, but you see the subtle difference in how he deals with you. "I am doing what I want right now."

"Going once..."

You relaxed in his hold.

"Twice?"

"No."

His expression turned dark, eyes hazy with lust as he drew you closer, making you sit directly on his half-hard cock. "You can't complain after this, you are aware, my love?"

Ah, the sound of that endearment rolling out of his tongue was music to your ears. Winding your arms around his neck, you leaned forward and ground your hips against his, relishing the soft groan that escaped his lips at the pressure. "Where do I sign?"

He pointed at his lips. "It's a lifetime agreement, mind you."

You wasted no time sealing your new pact, crashing your lips against his, a kiss that was sloppy at best, excitement and a mix of love and lust heavy on your tongue as you sought his, reveling in the taste of him which felt like the first time. Gojo was almost always dominant, but he didn't seem to mind that you were taking the lead this time, asserting your claim over him, unable to resist now that you've both gotten what you wanted from each other.

"Lucky for you, I don't want out."

~*~

I had fun with these. Wonder if I should do Geto, Sukuna and Choso as well... A little treat to quell the time I'm taking off of writing my ongoing Gojo smau cause I lost all my fucking files. Yay, me!

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20231019]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[rispwr]

If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 1

pairingsfuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn

contents/warnings rich! oc, nepo! oc, fuckboy! jk, rich! jk, slight love triangle, degrading, smut, unprotected xxx, spoiled! oc, tit lover! jk, big c! jk, missionary, fingering, semi-public xxx

taglist> comment if yall wanna be added

contextJungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

two or three part series

The lecture hall buzzed with low murmurs and the shuffling of papers as students settled into their seats. I sat quietly, tapping my pen against the edge of my notebook, my thoughts drifting in and out as I half-listened to the professor’s voice at the front of the room. My mind kept wandering, anticipating who I would be grouped with for this project. Please, please let it be Namjoon.

Namjoon had been my quiet crush since the first day of university. He was everything you’d want in a guy: smart, kind, and effortlessly hot. The kind of guy who always knew the answer to the professor’s most complicated questions, who smiled in that soft, unassuming way that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. It didn’t help that he had these deep dimples that appeared whenever he smiled, making my heart race just a little faster each time I saw them.

But as the professor continued to rattle off group assignments, I was growing more nervous. He hadn’t mentioned my name yet, and that gnawing anxiety at the pit of my stomach told me I wasn’t going to get lucky.

“And next,” Professor Lee announced, glancing at the list on his clipboard. “Y/N, you’ll be partnered with Jeon Jungkook.”

The room seemed to freeze for a moment. My eyes widened in disbelief, and a heavy weight dropped in my chest. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

I glanced to my left where Jungkook sat, his usual cocky grin plastered across his annoyingly handsome face. He caught my eye and, as if on cue, that grin widened into a playful smirk. My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand, nearly snapping it in two. Of all the people on this campus, I had to be grouped with him.

Jungkook was notorious around the university for being a player. His reputation for breaking hearts and leaving a trail of jilted girls behind him was almost as well-known as his stupidly good looks. Muscular build, sharp jawline, tattooed arm—it was no wonder girls threw themselves at him. But I wasn’t interested. In fact, I despised him. He was always teasing me, always pushing my buttons in the worst ways possible. We couldn’t be more different.

And yet, fate—or Professor Lee—had thrown us together for this project.

I could already feel the irritation bubbling up in me as I forced myself to break eye contact with Jungkook, turning my attention back to the professor, hoping against hope for something—anything—that would make this less of a nightmare.

“And Namjoon,” Professor Lee continued, reading the next name on his list. “You’ll be in the same group as well.”

For a moment, I blinked, my brain taking a second to catch up. Wait—what?

I couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at my lips. Namjoon. Namjoon was in my group. Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a disaster after all.

I glanced over at Namjoon, who was sitting a couple of rows ahead of me. He turned in his seat, meeting my eyes, and gave me that warm, dimpled smile that never failed to make my heart skip a beat. I smiled back, feeling a tiny spark of hope. Maybe Jungkook’s presence wouldn’t be so unbearable if Namjoon was around.

Still, the fact that I had to work with Jungkook was an annoyance I couldn’t shake. As the class continued and Professor Lee finished the assignments, I couldn’t help but shoot a glare in Jungkook’s direction. He, of course, was still smirking at me, clearly enjoying the fact that this was bothering me.

Once the professor dismissed the class, I packed up my things slowly, waiting for Namjoon to come over. I didn’t want to seem too eager, but my heart was already beating faster at the thought of spending time with him.

“Hey, Y/N,” Namjoon said as he approached, his voice soft and warm. “I’m really sorry, but I’m not free to meet today. I’ve got some meetings and a lot on my plate.”

My smile faltered, but I quickly masked it with a nod. “That’s okay! We can always work on it later this week.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Namjoon said, flashing me that kind smile again before turning to leave. I watched him go, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. I’d been looking forward to spending more time with him, but at least we’d have other days.

As Namjoon left the room, I turned back to gather my things, fully expecting to leave right after. But then I noticed that the room had grown strangely quiet. Too quiet. Everyone else had left, except for one person.

Jungkook.

I looked up, and there he was, still sitting at his desk, his eyes locked on me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. For a moment, we just stared at each other in silence. I tried to ignore the flutter of nervous energy building in my stomach.

Without warning, Jungkook stood up and began walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. My pulse quickened. There was something about the way he moved, something almost predatory, that made my breath catch in my throat.

I forced myself to stand my ground, even as he came closer, his presence almost suffocating in its intensity. When he stopped just inches away from me, I found myself pressed back against the wall without even realizing it. My heart was pounding in my chest now, and I could feel a flush rising to my cheeks.

“What do you want, Jungkook?” I asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, though my voice came out shakier than I’d like.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. His lips curved into that maddeningly cocky smile I hated so much, the one that made it seem like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Not happy about being paired with me?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was an edge to it that I couldn’t quite place.

I glared at him, trying to keep my cool despite the sudden closeness of his body to mine. “You know exactly why I’m not happy.”

He chuckled, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?”

“Maybe because you act like a player, Jungkook.”

The smile on his face faltered just slightly, but only for a brief second before it was back again, even more infuriating than before. “If you think I’m going to fuck you like I do with the others, you’re wrong.” He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “Though, I have to admit… you’re already thinking about me, aren’t you?”

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. The audacity of him. I hated how he was getting under my skin, how my body was reacting even though my mind was screaming at me to push him away.

“You’ve been fucking me with your eyes all day, Jeon,” I shot back, trying to regain some control over the situation, though my voice betrayed me.

He let out a low chuckle, his hand coming up to gently brush a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch was soft, intimate, and it sent a ripple of heat through me. “Hm, bratty. I like that,” he muttered, his voice laced with amusement.

Jungkook’s gaze dropped to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes again, and his next words sent a shockwave of tension through the room. “One day, Y/N. One day.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the rush of emotions flooding through me. “You wish,” I muttered, pushing past him, my heart racing as I left the room.

But even as I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze lingering on me, and the dangerous promise hanging in the air between us.

I had barely drifted off to sleep when the sharp buzz of my phone jolted me awake. I groaned, blinking at the clock. It was 2 a.m. Who could possibly be texting me at this hour?

Reaching over to grab my phone, I squinted at the screen. Of course.

it's jungkook

The morning sun filtered through the campus as I made my way toward class, still fuming from Jungkook’s obnoxious texts the night before. I hadn't replied after his last message, but it had taken everything in me to resist throwing my phone across the room. I couldn’t afford any more distractions today—I had to focus on this group project.

After class, I sent a message to both Namjoon and Jungkook, asking them to meet me at the library. They both replied with a quick "yes," but I couldn't shake the feeling that this was not gonna go well

The library was a sea of activity, but our corner was a bubble of escalating tension. Namjoon and I had been discussing some preliminary ideas when Jungkook strolled in, his usual confident swagger in full display. He slid into the chair next to me with a grin that made me feel both anxious and irritated.

“Morning, everyone,” Jungkook said, looking around the table. He glanced at Namjoon with a challenge in his eyes before turning his attention to me. “Let’s get this project rolling.”

Namjoon’s expression shifted subtly from polite to guarded. “Morning, Jungkook. We were just about to outline our approach. We thought starting with a structured plan would be best.”

Jungkook smirked. “Structured plan? Sounds like a surefire way to kill any chance of creativity. Why don’t we start by brainstorming some wild ideas and see where that takes us?”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “Brainstorming is great, but if we just dive in without a plan, we’ll end up with a mess. You need structure to keep things on track. Or are you just trying to avoid putting in the actual work?”

Jungkook leaned back, crossing his arms. “Avoiding work? That’s rich coming from you. Your idea of structure is basically setting up a boring checklist. Creativity doesn’t fit into a neat little box.”

Namjoon scoffed. “And your approach is just to throw ideas at the wall and see what sticks? That’s not exactly groundbreaking. It’s like hoping for a miracle instead of actually planning for success.”

I felt my frustration bubbling up as their argument intensified. They were clearly not going to back down, and their petty comments were only making things worse.

Jungkook’s tone was mocking. “Oh, right. Because your idea is so much better. Let’s just stick to the same old formula and hope for a pat on the back. How original.”

Namjoon shot back with equal disdain. “Better than relying on vague, half-baked ideas that have no real direction. At least with structure, we can ensure everything’s covered. But I guess you wouldn’t understand that because you’re too busy chasing after girls."

Their barbed comments continued to fly, and I could see their tempers rising. The petty back-and-forth was not only unproductive but also frustrating. I needed to step in before things got out of hand.

“Enough!” I said, my voice cutting through their argument. “This is a fucking group project, not a battleground for your egos. I’m tired of listening to you two trash each other’s ideas. We need to find a way to work together, not tear each other down.”

Jungkook and Namjoon looked at me, surprised by my outburst. Jungkook’s smirk had faded, replaced by a look of frustration, while Namjoon’s expression softened into a more serious one.

“I get that you both have strong opinions,” I continued, “but this constant fighting isn’t helping us. We need to find a middle ground and actually get something done.”

Namjoon nodded, though his frustration was still evident. “Alright. We can start with a basic outline and then use brainstorming to refine our ideas. But we need to work together and stop comparing our approaches in a negative way.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, but he agreed. “Fine. We’ll try to blend the ideas. But let’s not pretend that sticking to a rigid structure is the only way to succeed.”

With a sigh, I turned my attention to the project, hoping that their petty arguments would finally subside. The atmosphere was tense, but we needed to focus on making progress.

As we began to work, Jungkook and Namjoon continued to exchange glances, but the competitive edge had softened, if only slightly. The project started to come together, despite the earlier conflict. Their combined skills and knowledge were proving valuable, even if the process had been rocky.

The tension between them didn’t disappear completely, but the focus shifted back to the project. I hoped that, with time, we could find a way to collaborate more effectively and leave the petty arguments behind. For now, though, I was just relieved that we were making some progress.

As the afternoon wore on, we finally wrapped up our work on the project. The tension had eased somewhat, and while Jungkook and Namjoon were still exchanging occasional glances, the project was moving in the right direction. I packed up my things, exhausted and ready to collapse on my bed.

As I was about to leave, both Jungkook and Namjoon approached me at the same time. Their expressions were hopeful, clearly looking for a way to end the day on a positive note.

"Hey, Y/N," Jungkook said, flashing a charming smile. "How about we grab dinner together? I know this great new place nearby."

Namjoon chimed in almost simultaneously. "Actually, Y/N, I was thinking we could go out for dinner too. It'd be nice to unwind and talk more about the project."

I sighed, feeling the exhaustion hit me hard. The last thing I wanted was to deal with more socializing, especially given how the day had gone. I just wanted to go home, eat something simple, and crash.

"Thanks, but I'm really not up for it," I said, trying to keep my tone as polite as possible despite my irritation. "I'm tired and just want to head home."

Jungkook's smile faltered slightly. "Come on, Y/N. It'll be fun. We can relax and enjoy ourselves."

Namjoon, noticing Jungkook's persistence, added, "Yeah, it'll be a good break from all the work. Plus, we can discuss the project more informally."

I looked at both of them, feeling a surge of frustration. Their attitudes today had been less than stellar, and I was fed up with their petty arguing. I shook my head, turning on my heel and heading towards the exit.

"I'm really not interested," I said over my shoulder. "You two figure it out yourselves."

As I walked away, I could hear Jungkook and Namjoon start to bicker. Their voices carried through the library, each of them blaming the other for my refusal.

"See what you did?" Jungkook's voice was laced with annoyance. "You pushed her away with your rigid attitude. She was already pissed off before you even said anything."

Namjoon shot back, his tone sharp. "My attitude? You're the one who couldn't stop acting like a fuckboy all day. Maybe if you had been a little more respectful, things wouldn't have ended up this way."

Jungkook's eyes flashed with anger. "Oh, that's rich coming from you. At least I'm not some nerd who can't get out of his own head. You think you're so superior with your so-called 'structure' and 'organization.'"

Namjoon's face reddened. "Better to be a 'nerd' than a shallow idiot who only knows how to fuck his way through life. Maybe if you took things more seriously, you wouldn't be in this mess."

The argument escalated quickly, with Jungkook and Namjoon exchanging heated insults. I could hear them accusing each other of ruining the evening, each blaming the other for my decision to leave. Their pettiness was almost comical, but I had no intention of sticking around to watch their drama unfold.

I finally made it home, the familiar comfort of my apartment offering a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the day. I dropped my bag by the door and headed straight for my room, craving the solace of my bed. To my surprise, I found Hoseok, my best friend, lounging on my bed with a relaxed grin on his face.

“Hoseok? What are you doing here?” I asked, my frustration from the day still bubbling beneath the surface.

Hoseok looked up, his smile widening. “Surprise! I thought I’d drop by and hang out. actually your mom called me to hang out with her. we ended up shopping and getting spa today. but anyways why do u look sad? want me to cheer you up?”

I sank onto the edge of my bed, letting out a heavy sigh. “Cheer me up? I think I need to vent first. You have no idea how frustrating today was.”

Hoseok sat up, giving me his full attention. “Alright, let it out. What happened?”

I started pacing the room, my frustration pouring out in a torrent. “It’s Jungkook. He’s been driving me insane. The guy’s a total fuckboy, and he’s so full of himself. I can’t stand how he just ignores everything and acts like he’s the only one who knows what’s best. And then Namjoon—he’s been acting so stuck up too, but at least he’s not as infuriating as Jungkook. I just wish Jungkook would disappear.”

Hoseok listened intently, nodding sympathetically. “You know what they say? The more you hate, the more you love.”

I stopped mid-sentence, turning to him with a look of confusion. “What? Are you serious right now? I like Namjoon. Jungkook is the last person I’d ever want to be involved with.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye. “Then why is Jungkook the only one you talk about? It sounds to me like he’s really getting under your skin.”

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Because he’s impossible! He’s always around, always stirring up trouble. I’m just so done with him.”

Hoseok chuckled, leaning back against the pillows. “It’s funny how the people we argue with the most are often the ones who matter to us the most. You and Jungkook seem to have this weird dynamic. Maybe it’s not just hatred.”

I shook my head, still trying to make sense of Hoseok’s words. “I don’t know, Hoseok. I just want things to be simple. I don’t want to be tangled up in all this mess. Namjoon’s straightforward, and I can actually see a future with him.”

Hoseok’s expression softened, and he gave me a reassuring smile. “I get it. It’s easier to focus on the people who seem like they’re a better fit, like Namjoon. But sometimes, those people who challenge us and push our buttons are the ones who end up being more significant than we realize.”

I sat down next to Hoseok, feeling a bit more grounded. “I guess you have a point. It’s just hard to deal with all this drama. I need some space from Jungkook and just want to focus on what makes me happy.”

Hoseok reached over and patted my shoulder. “Well, I’m here for you. If you need to vent or just hang out and not think about any of this, I’m your guy. We can order some takeout, watch a movie, and just talk shit i don't know.”

I smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. “That sounds good. Thanks for being here, Hoseok. I really needed this.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Okay wait! Luke and y/n sneaking out of their cabins to go to their hiding spot to watch the stars while kissing and cuddling.

Being a Demi-god didn’t allow for you to experience many of the oftentimes mundane or meaningful moments in life, especially when you were thrusted into life threatening quests for godly parents that probably didn’t care to even remember any of your or your half siblings names; never less remember to claim them unless it proved beneficial for their own agenda.

However there was one exception to this answer his name was Luke Castellan. The goddess Aphrodite must’ve took pity on you by sending the charming and dashing son of Hermes your way, allowing you to befriend and then later on, fall in love with him and you’ve never been more happier then you were whenever you were with Luke Castellan.

Or Golden Boy as you’ve playfully called him, much to his dismay but the small smile that’d tug at lips told you otherwise.

As ironic as it might sound but any moment you got with Luke felt like pure magic with the way they make your insides grow homely and warm like a hearth, warming you throughout your entire body as your face was stuck in a perpetual state of dopey and lovesick.

Tonight was no different then any other night as you and Luke -hand in hand- ventured from the beds of your respective cabins and began making your way towards the lake all the while poorly concealing your bouts of laughter, some would manage to slip out now and then but you couldn’t help it! It had been awhile since you and Luke had some time to spend together, especially not without your siblings and or friends coming to get either of you to settle some disputes, and then not see each other until you were all called to the dinning pavilion; but even then you were seated at your tables, still unable to see each other.

To say that this moment was long overdue for both of you was the understatement of the century.

‘I don’t think that I’ll ever get over how beautiful the stars really are.’ You told Luke in awe, completely captivated by the starry sky that hung over camp.

‘That’s what I always say to myself whenever I get to see you.’ Luke says as he then drew your back until you were was fully pressed against his chest, solely for the fact that he could comfortably put his head upon your shoulder and rest his cheek to yours, humming in content when satisfied with the end result.

You snorted, readjusting the blanket you had brought with you to keep warm from the cold breeze that would occur every so often. ‘Yeah, I’m sure you do golden boy.’ You chuckled upon hearing Luke groan dramatically, only to then squeal in surprise when you felt him burrow his head into your neck, the ends of his hair kissed your skin with the weight of a feather while his own lips coated your neck in kisses of his own before stoping. ‘Don’t you ever get bored of calling me that? Golden boy?’ He asks and you moved your head to press a kiss against his hair. ‘Nope,’ you chirped, pressing another kiss but this time to his nose when Luke lifted his head from your neck to look you in the eye, ‘I for one think it suits you.’ You added, flashing him a cheeky smile.

‘I do often think about you, you know, in the same way you spoke about the beauty of the stars just now.’ Luke confessed and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

‘I didn’t say any-‘

‘You didn’t need to.’ Luke cuts you off. ‘I’d like to think the reason I know you as well as I do is because you hold the other half of my soul, as I hold the other half of yours.’ He says softly as his eyes then looked up to the stars in a form of hope, stars that now twinkled within his eyes as though they had finally broken free from the veil of endless hopelessness that often came with being a half-blood. ‘I also wonder that if I’m another lifetime, another universe where we’re not cursed to be demi-gods….If that’s even plausible.’ He adds sarcastically, his features contorted in pain and anger before it all faded away as quickly as it came. ‘If we ever get to find each other again or are destined to wonder our entire lives, lost in the hope of trying to fill the void we’re seemingly born with from this lifetime.’

You wordlessly buried yourself into his neck, pressing soft kisses there in hopes of soothing him somewhat. ‘I’m sure we find each other, no I’m certain that we find each other.’ You murmured reassuringly, feeling his arms tighten on your waist. ‘You wanna know why?’ Luke looked away from the stars to look at you, intrigued. ‘Why?’ You moved yourself from your cosy place against his chest, causing him to whine at the loss of your warmth, only to stop upon feeling you hold either sides of his face between your hands; caressing his cheeks as you stared lovingly into his eyes as he welcomed your touch by sinking into it.

‘Because what we do in this lifetime will echo throughout the others, we defy the gods today and we will defy the gods in every single lifetime afterwards.’ You said, pressing your forehead against his as you moved one of your hands from Luke’s cheek to hold him by the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair there. ‘The same can be said for when we love each other as much as we do right now, we will always find ourselves falling in love with each other in the other lifetimes too.’ You pressed a kiss to his scar before continuing. ‘For we’re fated to be soulmates, even if means having the odds stacked against us, we’ll always find each other again. No matter what.’

Luke stared at you for a while before he pressed his lips against yours passionately, his hands keeping you close to him as he poured everything he had into the kiss, not so secretly wishing that you were right about your love echoing throughout all your other lifetimes, to the point it disrupts their originally intended fates to pursue one another, not caring how long it would take because you both knew that the wait would’ve been entirely worth it.

[suashii]

୨♡୧ SWEET POTATO — iwaizumi hajime x f!reader. sfw. fluff. reader is pregnant.

“you know, i’m perfectly capable of going to the grocery store on my own,” you tell iwaizumi, lingering a step behind him as he walks down the aisle, scanning the items neatly lined up on the shelves. he only hums in acknowledgement. you click your tongue in mock annoyance because, despite your resistance to his assistance, you don’t mind having him around. still, you’re not used to being coddled like this. “being pregnant doesn’t mean i can’t walk. my feet aren’t defective.”

“just hush and let me help,” hajime speaks, resting one hand on the top of your head while the other reaches for a bag of brown rice. the weight on your head is comforting, a reminder of why iwaizumi is really here. ever since you read the positive test and the man who was meant to be with you walked out, iwaizumi, your best friend, stepped up and became your lifeline—attended all of your appointments, started reading baby books in his free time, calmed you down whenever you were feeling overwhelmed. he made sure you weren’t making this journey alone.

“can i at least push the cart?” you attempt to negotiate. you may not mind having him here with you, but you’d be lying if you said that following him around while he did all the work wasn’t getting boring. “wouldn’t it be safer to have something in front of me in case i trip?”

“how could you trip?” he asks, more humor in his voice than usual. “you just told me that your feet work fine.”

you groan at the way he twists your words, hands coming up to unconsciously rub at your belly. it’s become a habit of yours, caressing the steadily growing bump whenever you’re stressed or bored. it gives you something to do and floods you with an immeasurable amount of contentment.

“oh, congratulations, dear.” you turn at the sound of a frail voice. an elderly woman on the opposite side of the aisle looks at you through squinted eyes, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. you figure she’s referring to your stomach.

“thank you.”

“how far along are you?”

“eighteen weeks.” you smile. iwaizumi intently watches your interaction—the way your eyes light up and how your hands protectively cradle the little bulge. “this little one is the size of a sweet potato.”

the fruit and vegetable comparison was always a little silly to you but it came in handy during moments like these. this specific week actually helped you remember something that slipped your mind while you were making the list of items you needed.

“oh!” you snap and point at iwaizumi. “that’s what i forgot earlier. i’m going to go grab a few.”

“hold on, i’ll-” your hand shoots up, palm out, to stop him from finishing his sentence—one that you’re positive would include him insisting on joining you.

“hajime.” you’re more than grateful to have someone to lean on but at this rate, you’re going to forget how to live as an independent being. “i can walk a couple aisles down and bag some vegetables on my own.”

“right,” he curtly nods, “i’ll stay and wait for you here.”

you hurry off to grab the sweet potatoes your obstetrician recommended adding to your diet and leave iwaizumi to aimlessly shift back and forth on his feet.

“you must be excited.” the familiar voice catches the man’s attention, leading him to face the nice old woman.

“i’m sorry?”

“about becoming a father,” she clarifies.

his lips part in understanding and he nods. there’s no harm in letting one woman neither of you will see again think that he was the baby’s dad. it happened quite often but you always brush off the assumptions by jokingly saying “i wish.” it’s never bothered iwaizumi—people’s first thought being that he was the father or the fact that you corrected them. he expected as much when he offered a helping hand. what he didn’t expect was that his heart would jump every time he heard any variation of the word. he kept that to himself, though.

the woman slowly approaches iwaizumi and places a soothing hand on his arm. he has to look down to meet her eye but when he does, he’s met with nothing but warmth. her eyes crinkle with her smile. “i’m sure you and your wife will be great parents.”

she continues down the aisle, leaving iwaizumi with her words. his arms rest on the handle of the cart as the woman’s statement echoes in his head. parents. at the moment, hajime’s a support system—driving you around on errands and helping with chores around the house. the two of you haven’t discussed what his role will be after you’ve given birth, but, despite that, he knows he wants to be there for you and your baby every step of the way if you’ll have him.

“i’m back and bearing potatoes,” you announce your arrival, dropping the vegetables in the cart. your gaze falls to iwaizumi who’s staring ahead, his eyebrows knit together in deep thought. you reach out to smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb. “what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing.” what’s on his mind is a conversation better had not in a supermarket. “come on. let’s wrap this up and get you home for lunch.”

“gosh, you sound just like a dad,” you comment through a laugh, hooking your arm around one of his.

like clockwork, iwaizumi’s heart skips another beat. it feels different this time; he figures it’s because you’re the one who said it.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[mochegato]

Devil of the Narrows

Marinette burst through the door, pulling a bubbling Adrien behind her.  “So smart.  So sexy.  That dress…” he paused to picture it and got lost for a few seconds.  “My heart can’t handle it.”

“Go on,” Marinette purred, “tell me more.”

Out of the fog filled abyss, a deep voice floated toward them.  “I would very much appreciate if you didn’t.”

Marinette let out a small scream and jumped away from the ledge just a bit further than Adrien who jumped then immediately lowered into a defensive position and glared at the edge, prepared for whatever came over the side.  When nothing happened for a few long seconds, they looked at each other apprehensively and back to the edge, not wanting to take their eyes off the threat for too long.

Finally, Adrien bobbed his head toward the door back to the building and safety, but Marinette scrunched her nose and removed her shoe, wielding it like a bat as she inched toward the edge of the building.  Adrien groaned quietly, dropping his head back in annoyance, but followed her grudgingly.  If she was going to try to threaten someone with a shoe, the least she could do was have a stiletto on, at the very least a platform shoe, something with a bit of weight or a sharp heel, not a flat.

When they got to the ledge, he held up three fingers, slowly lowering them one at a time until they were all dropped and they poked their heads over the edge, freezing at the sight.  Whatever they were expecting to see on the other side of the ledge, a man, clearly one of the vigilantes, sitting back against a rather macabre looking gargoyle and eating a burger was not it.

Alya would never forgive Marinette for not knowing which of the vigilantes it was.  He was obviously one of the bats, because there was a rather large red bat splayed across his broad, armored chest.  She just couldn’t tell which one it was. There were like twenty of them.  It was hard to keep track.

What she could tell was he was easily as large as her papa, which meant he would absolutely tower over her if he stood and could knock her out with one punch if he decided to get violent.  He was probably an amazing vigilante.  She couldn’t imagine anyone seeing him and wanting to continue whatever felonious activity they were committing rather than running away as quickly and cowardly as possible.

“What the f…” Adrien muttered.

“Who are you?  What are you doing up here?” Marinette called out before she could stop herself.

“How did you get up here?” Adrien added, more rhetorically than actually expecting an answer.

He gave them a flat look and held up a grappling gun in one hand and his burger in the other.  “Saving the day makes you hungry.”  He motioned toward her with his burger.  “Is that a shoe?  What were you planning on doing?  Cobbling me to death?”

Marinette slowly turned to her arm, seemingly as surprised as them to see it still upraised and ready to throw.  She looked away as she lowered her arm, refusing to make eye contact with anyone as she lowered it and put it back on her foot.  “I used what I had.  It’s not like we were expecting to have to defend ourselves while on top of a skyscraper,” she grumbled.  “We were expecting it to be creepy but deserted like it usually is.  We were not expecting any cryptids skulking on top of buildings.”

He ran his tongue over his canine and clicked it as he studied her.  “Didn't mean to disturb your make out session.  But please... do not ignore me and continue.  In fact, feel free to go somewhere else for that.  I’d prefer you not besmirch my favorite spot and desecrate my friend to your depraved behavior.”

“We were not coming up to make out!” Marinette exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch and volume.

“Besmirch?” Adrien asked.

The man gave her an exceptionally unimpressed look and kept eye contact as he took another bite.  “We weren't!” she insisted in utter affront.  “We were coming up to discuss the best approach to him asking out his crush, if you must know.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked between the two of them.  “I did not.”

"Interesting that you thought he did," Adrien noted, his mouth quirked up in an amused smirk.

Marinette gave him a wide-eyed, pointed look.  “Shut.  Up,” she hissed.

“But, just do it.”  The vigilante leaned forward, bringing his face into a sliver of light cast by the roof lights.  “You’re probably overthinking it.  It doesn’t have to be a grand gesture or choreographed.  The result is almost definitely going to be the same whether you do something over the top or simple and simple is almost always from the heart, which is usually appreciated.”

“Yes!” Marinette exclaimed.  She motioned toward the vigilante.  “See?  I tol…”  She turned back to him instantly, trying to make sure she was seeing what she thought she saw.  “Are you… are you wearing a scarf as a mask?”

He leaned back into the shadows.  “…Yeah.  Gotta protect the identity, sweetheart.”

She continued to stare at him incredulously for a few more moments.  “Who are you supposed to be?  Daredevil?”

He scrunched his nose and bobbed back in surprise.  “Who?”

Adrien leaned over the ledge and quirked his head to the side to check him out from a better angle.  “Charlie Cox was hotter.”

She quirked her head to the side in exact imitation of Adrien to study the vigilante.  After a moment she shook her head and glanced back at Adrien.  “That is objectively false… but very funny.”

The vigilante leaned forward again; face scrunched in annoyance.  “Who the f…”  He jumped up instantly when the skyline was rocked with an explosion.  “Get home,” he ordered firmly as he pulled out his grappling hook.  “And ask them out.  Life is short,” he added just before he jumped into the void.

><><><><><><><><>< 

The aftermath of the explosion kept the entire team busy for the next few days; chasing down leads, tracking henchmen, finally capturing the Penguin, returning him to Arkham again, and keeping a heavy watch on other criminals trying to take advantage of the distraction.  So it was a while before he was able to return to his spot, but as soon as he settled in, full meal in hand, a voice floated over to him.

“Daredevil!  You're back.”

He let out a long sigh and shook his head as though his lips weren’t already quirking up in amusement.  “This is my spot.”

There were a few moments of silence during which he was able to take his first bite before he looked up to meet her arched eyebrow.  “I've been coming up here every night for the past few weeks.  You’ve only been here once. This is not your spot.”

“I've been coming up here since I was 13,” he scoffed, cheeks puffed out from his bites of hotdog.  “This is my spot.”

“That seems like you abandoned it,” she shrugged.  “I found it, nurtured it.  So now it's my spot.”

He narrowed his eyes and pointed his hotdog at her.  “I was on a mission.  And I didn't abandon it.”  He motioned behind himself.  “It was being watched over until I returned.”

She hummed and examined him closely, eyes skimming him over from mask to boot before returning to meet his eyes with an accepting nod.  “Glad it turned out well...I guess.  It was a good thing, right?  Your mission helped not the jerks?”

He snorted a laugh, almost spitting out half his hotdog.  “Yes.  The mission was to stop some very bad guys.”  He leaned toward her with a smirk.  “And we succeeded.”

She smiled back but then let her gaze drift to the skyline, allowing them to sit with each other in silence, only the wind whispering between them for a while before she returned her attention to him.  When he’d finished with his first hotdog, a self-satisfied grin spread across his lips.  “You just going to keep staring at me?  I mean if you do, I understand.”

Instead of scoffing or stuttering like he had expected, she cocked her head to the side.  “I don’t understand,” she stated, motioning toward him.

He looked down at his armor and especially the bat emblem on his chest and nodded in understanding.  “Not everyone understands becoming a vigilante.”

“Oh no, that I understand,” she waved him off like the assumption was ridiculous.  “I mean,” she motioned toward him again, or more specifically, motioned toward his head, “it doesn’t make sense.  It’s contradictory vibes.  You have,” she motioned toward his suit.  “And then you have,” she motioned more pointedly toward his head.

“Like,” she indicated his suit, “high tech,” she indicated his scarf, “low tech.”  She pointed to his suit, “impeccably made,” his scarf, “I think the person was drunk,” his suit, “thoroughly thought out,” his scarf, “I honestly think you might have just grabbed that as you ran past some tourist.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times until he finally huffed out a breath through his nose.  “I have a mask, you know.”

“You do?  Where is it?  Can I see it?” she demanded more than asked.  She was almost jumping in excitement as she looked all around him to try to catch a glimpse of it, only settling when he held it up for her to see.

“But as you can see, it doesn’t allow for things like eating or drinking.”  He looked at her from the side.  “Doesn’t really facilitate conversations either.”

She couldn’t stop the eyeroll she gave him.  “You’d hardly come up here if you wanted conversation.”

“Maybe I came up to converse with you.”  His smile was just on the right side of teasing, infectiously so.

Marinette shook her head with a brilliant grin.  “You said you’ve been coming here for years and a week ago was the only time you’ve seen me.”

“I’m an optimist,” he shrugged.

“You’re certainly something,” she chuckled as she looked away to collect herself.  When she looked back at him, her gaze was curious.  “I know why I come up here.  I work here and the roof is the only place to get away from people.  But why do you come here?  Why this spot, I mean.”

His grin shone even in the dim evening.  “Best gargoyle in the city right here,” he crowed, patting the gargoyle behind him.  “He kept me company many a night when I was a teen.  One of the best conversationalists I’ve ever met.”

She looked at him, amused by how proud he was of his gargoyle friend.  “So you did come up here for a conversation after all.  Should I leave so you two can get to it?”

He snickered and took a bite of his second hotdog.  “He is a marvelous conversation partner and listener,” he acknowledged.  “It might be hard for you to compete.”

“Not to ruin a friendship, but technically, that's a grotesque,” she corrected.  Her eyes were narrowed, but her voice teasing.   His eyes shot to her, lips pinched and brow scrunched in disapproval.  "Gargoyles have waterspouts.  That's where they got their name," she elucidated, adding in a gurgling sound to solidify her point.  "No waterspout means it's a grotesque.  Just a statue meant to look creepy."

He turned to look at the grotesque like it had personally betrayed him before returning attention to her.  “Expert huh?  That what you do?  Architecture?”  His voice was slightly grousey but still polite.

“No,” she acknowledged, “not an architect.”

He harumphed and finished the rest of his second hotdog in one bite.  “Not an expert then.  I’ll keep my faith in my friend.”

“Kind of an expert,” she shrugged as she tried to cover her snort at his boyish pout.  “From Paris so I know a thing or two about gargoyles and grotesques.”

He took a large bite of fries, chewing it noisily while shooting her a heatless glare.  “What do you do then?” he asked when he’d finally swallowed.  “You said you work here, yeah?”

“Graphic design.  I just started at an office on the 40th floor a few months ago,” she answered with a smile.

“Ahh, a tortured artist,” he nodded knowingly.

She gasped dramatically.  “I'm not tortured.”

“Pixie Pop, you chose to live in Gotham,” he pointed out, his voice and look both equally flat.  “You're tortured.”

“You run around in a poorly tied scarf and an attitude,” she groused.  “You're tortured.”

“Never said I wasn't,” he shrugged completely unbothered as he took a long drink of his soda.

They stayed in a comfortable silence for a while, the wind whistling quietly between them until Marinette finally broke the silence.  “You lied.  He’s a terrible conversationalist.  Hasn’t contributed at all.”

His snicker at her comment quickly become a full blown laugh, head thrown back, eyes closed and all making him miss her amused, contented smile at his reaction.  When he finally looked back at her, the portion of his face that was visible was bright.  “With all your criticisms of my mask, I almost expected you to say fashion designer.”

Her smile strained slightly and her eyes slid from his to the horizon.  “Once upon a time, another lifetime ago,” she answered flippantly.

He watched her, wanting desperately to get the story that was hiding there, but held himself back.  He was just going to have to keep visiting her until he felt like they knew each other well enough to ask her.  But until then, he needed a distraction.  “How's it going with blondie?  He man up and ask his crush out?”

All the light returned to her face.  Her lips eased into an excited smile.  “He did!  They're going on a date tonight!  You should have seen it.  He was freaking out after she said yes.  It's adorable.  But he took your advice, well, our advice because I told him the same thing, but he actually listened when you said it, to just ask her out and not overthink it.  Overthinking is my job.  His job is to look cute.  He keeps forgetting that.”

“Does he ever get upset you’re trying to take his job?” he asked before his brain caught up with his mouth.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, now wishing he still had one of his hotdogs he could shove in his mouth.

She scrunched her nose and shook her head.  “I couldn’t do his job, any of the jobs he’s done.  I love kids but I don’t think I could handle an entire classroom of them, and I definitely wouldn’t have been a good model.”

“Ohhh.  He was actually a…” he stopped mid-word and his hand flew to his ear.  “Copy.  I’ll get on it.  I’m only a few blocks away.”  He stood and shot her a two-finger salute, “Have a good night, Pixie Pop.”

She nodded.  “Be safe, Daredevil.”

He glared back at her over his shoulder, lips pursed into a thin line and maintained eye contact as he put his full face mask on with a harumph.  “You too, Pixie Pop.”

><><><><><><><><>< 

It didn’t take her long to do the exact opposite.  Less than two hours, in fact.  But it wasn’t her fault.  It was just Gotham.  It was bound to happen eventually.  And for Marinette, the inevitable happened on her walk home from work that night.

And, okay, maybe it was her fault a little bit, because she should have known better than to walk home so late at night, especially all alone.  But the time with Red Hood had pushed back her work until she had to stay late to get to where she needed to be on the project.  But in her defense, most muggers could see she didn’t have any money and left her alone.  This one clearly wasn’t as bright as the others.

“We’re going to do this quick and easy, right, darling,” the man jeered.  His knife glinted in the streetlight.

It wasn’t nearly as scary as he thought it was and she didn’t have any money on her anyway, so this was really a wasted effort on all sides.  “It would have been quicker if you hadn’t started,” she droned.  “Do I look like I have money?”

Her skin crawled at the leering, lingering looks he was giving her.  “I can take it out in other ways.”

She wrinkled her nose and stepped back.  “Ew.  No.”

“It wasn’t a question.”  There was a menacing curve to his lips as he slowly stalked toward her.

“And yet you got your answer,” a deep, chilling voice crept from the shadows.

The man whipped around; knife poised to attack right up until he saw who stepped out.  As soon as the light hit Red Hood’s mask, the mugger held his hands up and backed away slowly.  “Hey man, nothing happened.  No need to…”

He tried to dart away mid-word but ended up running head first into Nightwing’s chest.  “There’s definitely a need to,” Nightwing responded smugly.  He grabbed the mugger by the jacket and tied him up quickly, stepping purposefully between Red Hood and the mugger.  “I’ll take him in,” he said pointedly, mistaking Hood’s anger for his general hatred toward anyone who preyed on women rather than fury over the mugger having threatened this particular woman.

“You make sure the civilian gets home safe.”  He didn’t bother to wait for Hood’s acknowledgement before he nodded toward Marinette and shoved the mugger toward the other end of the street.  “Have a good night, ma’am.”

“Thank you!” she called after him, but she kept her eyes on Red Hood as she spoke.  She continued to watch him as he examined her intently, his eyes running over her, lifting her arms to verify she wasn’t hiding anything.  “I’m okay,” she promised quietly.

After a few more moments of examination, he finally released her arms and motioned for her to lead, only moving when she started walking.  She snuck a peek at him from the corner of her eye until she couldn’t take the silence anymore.  It wasn’t a comfortable silence.  He was walking far too stiffly.  “Thank you, Daredevil.”

She could hear him let out a long, tortured breath before shaking his head.  But her comment had the desired effect.  His whole body relaxed and eased into a lighter gait.  “Not daredevil.”  He might have been trying for stern but didn’t make it.

“Debatable,” she shrugged, shooting him an easy smile.

He stopped walking to turn towards her and cross his arms over his chest, almost obscuring his red bat.  “It is not.  And you can thank me by calling me by my name.”

“Oh, please don’t give me your real name,” she sighed in mock exasperation.

“I meant ‘Red Hood’.”

“Red Hood…” she repeated slowly like she was feeling how the name sounded on her tongue.

“Red Hood,” he confirmed.

She quirked her head back and forth a few times examining his upper body.  “You call that a hood?  Shouldn’t it be like Red Mask or Red Scarf?”

“No, not like…” he flustered.  “Like Robin Hood.”

A dangerously excited smile spread on her lips.  “Please tell me you also have one of those hats, the,” she motioned vaguely around her head, “bycocket hats he supposedly wore.  He wouldn’t have, by the way.  That was just a Hollywood costume designer’s idea.”

He snorted and started walking again, almost chuckling as she fell into step beside him but only coming up to his shoulder.  “Sorry to break your heart but no.”

She pouted and slumped down.  “That’s unfortunate.”

“But,” he leaned toward her and she could feel the smile hidden beneath his mask, “my best friend did.”

She gasped and perked back up, eyes wide in excitement.  “No!”

“Yep.”

She was almost bouncing.  “Show me!”

He chuckled and shook his head.  “Let’s get you home and you can look it up yourself.  His name is Arsenal, but at the time he was called Speedy.”  They walked next to each other quietly for a full block, Marinette happily swinging her arms and shooting him covert looks every few seconds, Hood, unable to see her in his periphery due to the mask, looking over at her almost as frequently, before Marinette looked a bit too hard and ended up tripping.  Hood snorted at the show of clumsiness but instantly reached out to keep her from falling, not letting go until he could verify her shoes were firmly on the ground.  “So, what happened back there?”

She looked up at him, confusion clear on her face.  He was a vigilante in Gotham, surely an attempted mugging wasn’t an unfamiliar sight.  And his tone was far too teasing for it to be a straightforward question.  “Hmm?”

He nodded toward her feet.  “The guy came at you and yet both of your shoes are firmly on your feet.  What?  Are sneakers not as good weapons as flats?”

She barked out a laugh so loud the sound echoed off the buildings around them.  “You’ve seen Gotham streets.”  She gave a dramatic shiver.  “Rather be mugged than take off my shoes.”

Hood chuckled and shook his head.  “Fair.”

They continued walking again, the comfortable silence descending upon them for a few more steps until her racing heart demanded she speak.  “You know, usually, I get a date before someone walks me home.”

“Usually, you aren’t getting walked home by a vigilante,” he pointed out smugly but all his confidence dropped when Marinette snorted.  “What was that for?”

“Happens more often than you would think,” she snarked back.  His steps faltered slightly, and he whipped his questioning eyes to her.  “Heroes though,” she added as though lost in thought and turning to face him, though she gazed into space as she spoke, “not vigilantes, and back in Paris when Paris had heroes. They at least knew my name though.”

He scoffed.  “I know your name.”  She could feel his grin under his mask.  “Pixie Pop.”

She groaned and swung ahead of him.  “That’s what you’re sticking with, huh?”

“Unless you can give me something better,” he shrugged.

“Marinette.  My name is Marinette,” she replied.

“Marinette,” he repeated, almost reverently.  “Nice to meet you, Marinette.”

She had to stop walking before her knees gave out on her.  She somehow managed to turn to face him, eyes wide at that one word and the devotion he was able to convey even through the voice changer.  It took quite a few moments before she was able to recover enough to note where she was.  “Oh, this is me.”

She walked up the first few steps to her apartment building, knees still shaking slightly, but suddenly turned back toward Red Hood before he could step up, leaving them on the same level, which she took advantage of to lean forward and kiss him on the cheek of his mask.  “I can’t believe I miss the scarf,” she grumbled playfully as she looked up at him through her lashes.  “Thank you for walking me home.”

He nodded a bit dazed.  “Right, of course,” he agreed breathlessly.  He cleared his throat lightly and shook out his shoulders, continuing on with a lot more confidence.  “Wouldn’t be much of a vigilante if I let the fair citizens of Gotham get hurt.”

She hummed and rolled her eyes.  “Just business, huh?”

She was clearly being playful, but she was now leaning away from him like she was unsure, and he couldn’t have that.  He leaned into her space to whisper, “Maybe a bit more.”

She grinned.  “See you tomorrow at the grotesque?”

“I will never call him that…” he groused playfully for just a moment before brushing a strand of hair behind her shoulder, fingers brushing along her shoulder and upper arm before falling back by his side. “But yes.  It’s a date.  I’ll bring something to eat.”

“I’ll bring dessert and some wine,” she rasped, only able to form the words after swallowing thickly.

“Can’t wait,” he nodded and forced himself to take a step back.  “Have a good night, Marinette.”  He kept looking at her for another few moments before taking another step back and grappling away.

“Have a good night, Red Hood,” she whispered into the empty night.  She then twirled around with a squeal.  She had a dessert to overthink.  She was definitely going to have to have a group conversation to plan the perfect dessert and wine combination for a date with a vigilante.

Inspired by this image. Not even sure where the person got it from

[wolfchanslover69]

The fight

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In which y/n has a fight with Chan.

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Pairing: Bang Chan x reader | slight angst with a happy ending

A/N: Hii guys, I hope you enjoy reading this oneshot, I know it's a bit short but I haven't had inspiration for a while. If I made any mistakes do tell me because I won't realise it :D.

Warning: Mentions of the word fuck.

Word count: 1,3k

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Great, it was raining and I didn’t have an umbrella with me. The whole day had been shitty, and this was like a cherry on top of a cake. I usually loved how calming rain was and how it would make me feel like a new person, but not today. Today it felt depressing, heavy, like it was just adding more weight on my shoulders, making me feel suffocated. All the times I had for the past few months been alone, stressed, and tired, came back all together, double the usual.

I stepped out of the office building, starting to walk rather fast to my nearest bus stop while trying not to slip on the wet ground. I hadn’t prepared for rain today and was wearing my everyday work heels and a thin trench coat. The coat got wet fast, and the coldness of the water got into my bones making me freeze. The bus stop wasn’t far away from the building, and as I heard it, I could see my bus driving past my stop. I halted my walking and stood there in the middle of the rain, angrily staring at the stop. Of course, it has to be today that I miss my bus when it’s heavily raining and I have heels in which I cannot walk home. I can already feel the pain starting to form on my feet. Even my toes were starting to feel numb.

I started walking home as there wasn’t anything else to do. I did not want to, and would not call my boyfriend, whom I was ignoring at the moment due to my anger for his behaviour lately. He had been busy doing god knows what for the last two months, and when I asked him about it, I would get an annoyed answer for me to stop questioning and bothering him. 

As I walk, I see cars drive past me; some of them intentionally drive into puddles of water to splash me even more. At some point, I hear a motorcycle nearing me. The sound of the too familiar engine makes me walk faster and ignore the sound.

“What are you doing in the rain?” I hear his voice but don’t want to show him any reaction. I keep walking, ignoring him with an angry frown on my face.

“Hey, baby, can you stop?” I hear him ask with a soft and slightly worried voice. I wanted to yell at him that I, in fact, do not want to stop. I still pretend to not hear him and keep my pace.

“Hey, c’mon y/n! You’ll get sick if you continue like this!” He sounds a bit annoyed this time.

I try to resist myself but give in at the end and stop my walking, turning to face him. He’s driving his motorcycle with his famous black and red leather jacket on. He looked handsome, but I wouldn’t admit it to him now when I’m still pissed off at how he talked to me when I was just trying to figure out if everything was okay. He didn't have his helmet on, so I could see his wet hair sticking to his forehead. I saw how his eyes were filled with worry but how he tried to cover it up with annoyance and anger.

“You haven’t answered me for days,” he matter-of-factly told me, but I knew it already.

“And I wonder why. It didn’t seem important to you for the past few months,” I snapped at him while turning around to keep walking. I huffed in annoyance, trying to get myself to calm down.

“Hey, that’s not fair! You know how my work is, so you can’t blame me for being busy!” He drove a little past me stopping right in front of me. I stared into his eyes while trying to walk past him, but he wouldn’t let me. Chris drove a bit forward, blocking my way completely, and took a hold of my arm.

“Can you fucking stop walking? I’m trying to talk to you,” he angrily told me. 

“Oh yeah, Christopher? But did you stop working when I tried to ask if everything was okay? No, so let the fuck go of me and let me walk.” I tried to shrug my arm away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let me.

“I’m sorry about it, but I can’t fucking help my job,” he angrily told me.

“Well, I don’t actually care if you are fucking sorry or not or if it’s your fucking job.” I knew I didn’t actually mean it, but I was just so frustrated and angry at him that I ended up taking it out on him.

 He still didn’t let go of my arm, and we spent a while breathing heavily and just staring at each other angrily. During this, I noticed that the rain had started pouring harder than before. I was starting to get really cold, and I soon noticed myself shaking from the cold. Chris seemed to notice this too as he let go of my arm and started to take off his leather jacket.

“Put this on, you are shaking from the rain.” He handed me his jacket. He had a tight-fitting, long-sleeved turtleneck underneath his jacket, but I knew it wouldn’t keep him warm.

“No, put it back on, you’ll get cold fast,”I tried to tell him, pushing his hand holding the jacket back towards him.

“No, baby, it’s okay. I know you get cold easier than me and have been in the rain longer than me, so please just take it.” He reasoned with me. 

I ended up giving up and took the jacket, putting it on. It felt weird to have a wet trench coat and, on top of it, a warm leather jacket. I knew by taking the jacket from him, I had silently agreed to go home with him, and maybe it was better like that. Chris offered me a helmet after I had put the jacket on.

“Hey, why don’t you have a helmet on?” I asked him. He averted my eyes, trying to hide away from my question.

“Uhh well, I may or may not have forgotten to put it on as I saw that it was heavily raining and got a feeling you were going to walk home…” I just stared at him in silence as he told me that. I know we just fought about the silliest thing ever, and we both could have acted like adults and talked this out, but the fact that he still was worried for me warmed my heart.

“You should put your spare helmet on then,” I told him with a calm and neutral voice as I didn’t want to fight anymore.

“No, I saved it for you. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he told me while turning his head slightly to the side.

“Well, I don’t want anything to happen to you either, you know,” I wanted him to understand my point and the reason why I had even been ignoring him; maybe this would make him realise it. We both were silent, and I started staring at my hands, which were covered with his jacket’s long sleeves. I didn’t want to talk about these kinds of topics anymore this evening.

“Now get on the bike; let’s get out of here,” he told me after a while, nudging his head to the seat behind him. I hummed as an answer as I threw my leg over the bike to sit behind him. I took a tight hold of him and hugged him from behind, trying to squeeze my gratitude into the hug. I may not say it at the moment as I’m still trying to act mad, but I am thankful for him.

“I love you, you know,” he told me silently.

“I love you too,” I answered him, knowing our fight was partly over.

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A/n: If you want to request something please do! (I don't write smut and do only Chan ff :])

[theprettynosferatu]

Unit Commander John Heinlein was a simple man. Above all, he valued order. Order kept the world safe, functional, understandable. Everyone and everything had its proper place and proper role: like different organs in a body, they all contributed to the overall health of society as long as they did what they were supposed to do and didn’t get any stupid ideas. In that gigantic body, John Heinlen was a fist, and stupid ideas were what he punched into oblivion. Reality was simple, and if it wasn’t, the higher-ups pointed him to the complication and he pummeled it back into simplicity.

As usual, intelligence was spotty. Why exactly this club was a Stupid Idea, John did not know nor did he care. What the informant had revealed was something about women going against their conditioning, although they had not revealed how or why. It seemed patently ridiculous to John Heinlein. Conditioned women were happy, and they made their men happy. Simple, proper. Everything in its natural place. If Fulgrim’s was messing with that, it deserved to be squashed.

Looking at the rest of the Unit, he felt sending them was perhaps a waste of resources. If the informant was correct, they would be facing women and whatever deviants might be attending off-hours, if any; but it was not his call to make, and he liked it that way. His purpose was to punch, not to decide who deserved to be punched.

The six men stood in front of the gaudy purple door. As much as he wanted to kick the door down and be done with it, John played it by the book. He made the signal to place the breaching device and got into the correct position, ingrained in him by hundreds of hours of training. Still, no matter how many times the device blasted the door open, John always felt underwhelmed. Part of him seemed to expect a big thunderous sound, instead of the measured, barely audible “pop” designed not to alert the criminals.

Like a perfect machine, they went in, weapons ready. They were all running on autopilot, relying on their modified genetics and exhaustive drilling. It took only a few seconds for them to reach the same, obvious conclusion. No threats present. Instead, two women stood by the door, as if expecting them. John felt a deep revulsion, something primal stirring within him. It was wrong.

The women weren’t blonde. They weren’t smiling. They didn’t seem pleasant, or demure, or bubbly. In fact, they looked like wolves on the prowl. One had blood-red hair, a leather corset, fishnet stockings and boots that ended in the sort of spiked heels that could kill a man. The other was, to John Heinlein, even worse. She seemed shy, wearing a short skirt and trying to cover up… but her eyes spoke of a deep hunger, a devious intelligence and a depraved longing he couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” said the redhead with mock gratitude. “You see, I’ve been trying to train this sweet little creature right here…” she added as her hand went under the other girl’s skirt. “But I’m afraid she needs a bit of… male guidance. A strong hand to show her the way”

John frowned. There was something strange in the air. A subtle smell he couldn’t fully detect. As he turned to ask his comrades about it, he noticed Johnson shifting his weight slightly. It was a small thing, but utterly out of place for a man of their training. And he could tell the women saw it too. Slowly, seductively the redhead walked toward Johnson, leading the other girl by her wrist. It was surreal, unsettling. But they couldn’t just open fire on females.

“Johnson, step away from the females, now!”, barked Commander Heinlein.

For the first time in his illustrious career, the Commander’s order went unheeded. He watched in horror as the petite woman placed a slender hand on the soldier’s chest and, with a look designed to melt hearts and break down barriers at the same time, pouted like a mischievous child.

“Please, Sir. I’ve been bad. So, so bad… Won’t you teach me? I’m a very good learner… if I’m put in my place”

Meanwhile, the woman in the spiked heels had gone around Johnson, and whispered in his ear as her hand caressed his perfectly sculpted abs and kept moving downwards…

“She can be so good… we both can be so good… but are you man enough to show us you can handle us? Tame us? Mold us into your perfect good girls?”

Johnson was breathing heavily, paralyzed by a million conflicting impulses. He had a job to do. He was a soldier. He was…

And just then, he broke. Johnson grabbed the smaller woman by the neck, and in a swift movement turned her around and bent her over. He couldn’t see the devilish smile on her face, but John Henlein sure did. There was victory in that lustful look, a triumph only magnified when, cock hard as metal, Johnson railed her from behind as hard as he possibly could, his mind gone in a frenzy of half-formed sentences and grunts, the redhead woman rubbing her pussy as she now shouted encouragement.

“Do it! Pound that little slut! Show her what she really is! Fucking break her like the stupid fuckdoll she dresses as! Punish that pussy with your cock! Make her scream for me… make her beg! Make. Her. Yours!”

“Johnson!”, shouted Heinlein in vain. The soldier was gone, and all that remained was a beast, a bundle of muscles determined to conquer the females before it, to claim them and mark them as his. And worse, whoever was behind it all remained unseen, deeper inside the club.

“Fuck! Everyone else! On me! We press on!”

“What about Johnson?”, asked a rookie soldier by the name of Phillips.

“We lost him! Now, move!”

They stormed the place, kicking down doors- no time to play it straight, as much as it pained Unit Commander John Heinlein, for whom standard procedure was akin to a biblical dogma. With every hallway they crossed, every room they breached, the air seemed to get heavier, denser somehow. Sweeter, perhaps.

They entered a room covered in black velvet. It caused a strange effect, almost as if the walls themselves devoured the light. And there, sitting in the middle of the room, long legs crossed, was another female. Like the ones before, she didn’t look like the blonde, obedient women that had undergone the mandatory conditioning. Horror gripped Heinlein. This person went against every conceivable notion of what a woman should be. Clad in a leather corset and thigh-high boots, she stared the five soldiers down with a look of disgust and clear disapproval. Even the sight of their guns was to her just another gauche shortcoming, one in a very long list of inadequacies clamored without words by her deep, green eyes.

“Did I say you could come in?”, she asked.

The question was ridiculous. They were Soldiers. They didn’t ask, they acted. And yet, two of Heinlein’s men started moving their heads, something between shaking off a creeping mental fog and answering the woman’s question. No, she had not said they could come in.

“Get on the ground, and-” started barking Heinlein before the woman cut him off.

“No. it’s not your turn to speak. You don’t talk unless I tell you to, is that clear?”

Unit Commander Heinlein froze. Her tone, firm, in total control, was something he recognized very well. For a moment he was a raw recruit again, undergoing basic training. A part of him, a part of all Soldiers knew to obey that sort of utterance, that confident command. It was part of the crucial training that made any warrior more than a brawler. It was the core of discipline. He knew, at that moment, they were all in grave danger.

“Now, that sort of rude entrance needs to be punished. You all know it, don’t you my toys? But I’ll be kind…ish. How about you start by being a pack of good dogs and kneel?”

Heinlein felt his legs almost give in. He managed to stay on his feet… barely. He watched as most of his squad went on their knees, their eyes wide, fixed on that beautiful woman, seeking every ounce of validation she could give them. Ready to obey.

“Crawl to me, pets”

They did. With a few words, she had made them love her. Adore her. Obey her. Their sense of duty twisted, molded, corrupted. And Heinlein felt himself wanting to join them, wanting so badly to be one of her favorite pets… no, her very favorite. The alpha of the pack. Perfect for her. Obedient for her. 

It took a superhuman effort to turn away from her perfect silhouette, her beckoning curves, her voice of absolute command and dominion. The last thing he saw before sprinting away from that goddess of a woman was his once proud squad almost fighting like dogs for the privilege of kissing her heels. How he hated the fact that he wanted to join them…

He tried to push it all away as he ran through hallways, deeper into the club, down stairs, through room after room. Deeper and deeper… the air getting heavier and sweeter… his mind getting fuzzier…

How long did he run? How deep did he go? He couldn’t tell. Different themes passed him by like a blur, and he felt almost as if he was just running in place, the facility moving around him, assaulting him with perverted ideas, digesting him like some monstrous organism designed to destroy everything that was right and natural in the world… but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. Stopping, he felt, would mean the end.

And then, he stopped.

The woman looked like no one he had ever seen. Every part of her seemed designed to short-circuit his understanding of reality, his very core, and he found himself frozen before her, his brain trying to catch up to what his eyes were seeing. She looked like something out of some strange, fae world: she wore her hair in dancing ponytails, one dyed blue, one pink. Her makeup was a striking mixture of neon colors punctuated by tiny drawn hearts scattered over a face that spoke at once of innocence and mischief. She had a single fishnet glove on, mismatched thigh-high socks, a pink and black nighty that hovered between dark and slutty and the most pure chastity… Even her eyes, he noticed, refused to follow any notion of order: one was a deep blue, while the other was an inhuman, alluring red. She was something he couldn’t comprehend, and yet couldn’t stop watching. She moved with a strange liquid freedom, as if gravity and anatomy were vague suggestions she very much didn’t intend to follow. And her smile… he couldn’t quite place what it was: it was joyful, yes, but also shy and yet it had a hint of a predator somewhere deep inside it…

“Oh, hi!” she chirped and bounced out of her purple sofa. “I was fingering myself!” she declared, almost with pride.

Unit Commander Heinlein found himself unable to respond. This… being was not a woman. Not as he understood them, at least. And yet he could feel something stirring inside, something he had forgotten about long, long ago…

“Who are you?”, she asked, her face becoming almost a caricature of confusion before snapping back into a jubilant smile. “I’m Alara! Nice to meet you!”

She ran to him. Normally such an action would call for tactical evasion, or a well-practiced takedown. Instead, Heinlein found himself frozen in place as the girl hugged him. She smelled sweet, like the air around them.

“Are you okay, dude?”, she asked with a look of genuine concern. 

“I… this establishment has been deemed… unsuitable and against the… proper conditioning of females… get on the ground, and…”

“Ooooh, the ground? I can go to the ground for you, Daddy! Or do you prefer Sir? Or Joe? You know what? Joe it is! Is your name Joe? You look like a Joe to me. So, the ground! Ass up? Or maybe on my back, legs open? Which one do you want, Joe?”

Heinlein, whose first name was most certainly not Joe, watched as the girl seemed to flow from one pose to another: one second she was on all fours, looking over her shoulder with an inviting smile; the next she was on her back, legs open, her eyes shocked like a virgin about to feel a man inside her for the very first time… then she bounced back to her feet and pouted.

“Come on, Joe, make up your mind! Or do you want me to take charge? Wait! I should have it… here!”. The girl beamed, brandishing a gigantic, double-sided dildo. “Want me to use this on you, Joe? Come on, give me a little something to work with here!”

“Please stay still. Do you understand the situation? You have been… altered. You’re not a normal…”

“Normal? Normal?! Joe, how boring are you? Seriously, how many times can you fuck a blonde big-titty bimbo before it gets so fucking samey? Fuck ‘normal’, Joe! Let your freaky self out to play for once!”

“I do not have a freaky self”

Alara tripped on her own legs and landed sprawled on the carpeted ground before shooting Heinlein a look that might as well have been directed at a two-headed alien, before turning into an expression of pure, profound pity.

“Oh, Joe… of course you do! We all have our freaky sides… don’t think for a second they’ve drilled yours completely dead. It’s there… I can feel it. And so can you, can’t you? Growing inside you. Getting stronger. Don’t you get tired of following orders? Of everything being always in the same place? Of loving the same woman? The world isn’t like that, Joe! People aren’t like that! We are insane, contradictory, fucking twisted messes… and that’s perfect! Come on, Joe… don’t you ever think about doing… the wrong thing?”

Her words dripped inside his head like honey, so much so that he didn’t notice her approaching him, rubbing him through his pants as she playfully made him so confused, so mixed up, so fuzzy and…

“Mmmm… tell me Joe… what’s that thing you’d like to do, that wrong, wrong thing you dream of in the dark, swearing to yourself you’ll never say a word of it?”

“Non-regulation shoes” 

His mouth had spoken before his brain had even registered it.

“Oh, don’t like the uniform shoes?”, she teased.

“Uncomfortable”, he mumbled.

“So… why don’t you take them off?”

“On mission. Tactical shoes. Reinforced. Useful”

“Are you going to tactically kick me, Joe? Of course not! No one would kick pretty little me… well, unless I asked… but not with those shoes! Who’s gonna know, Joe? No one’s gonna spank you for letting your feet out for a bit! So… take them off!”

“Can’t. On a mission”

“Oh, for fuck’s- come here, you big dummy”

Alara lunged for his shoes, and made a big show of pulling with all her might. Heinlein watched her, entranced.

“A little help here, Joe? These fucking things are tighter than your ass! I mean, I’m just guessing there”

He moved as if in a dream. He released the lock on one boot, then the other. Alara flew back, boot in hand, before jumping up, holding the black boot in the air like a trophy.

“Victory! Look, Joe! You have one boot off and the world hasn’t ended!”

It was true. He looked down at his feet. He had gone against standard procedure. In fact, he had flat-out broken a strict, simple rule. No one was screaming at him. Nothing bad had happened. If anything, he was overcome by childish elation. Suddenly, his world had shifted. Rules were words. Only that. No more solid than millions of other words spoken every single day. 

“Sooooo? How do you feel, you rebel?”

“It’s… good”

Alara smiled and bent over.

“I’m guessing there’s a rule against using a suspect as a living fleshlight, isn’t there? A rule against pounding pussy when on a mission? A rule against using little me as your own personal, depraved fuckdoll?”

“There are many such rules”

“And how do you feel about them now?”

“I don’t give a fuck”

Her screams of ecstasy echoes through the entire club. She pushed him further, and he only growled and, for once, did exactly as he pleased. Alara could only cum, and cum again in victory. Every act was a testament to her triumph. He used her throat, not caring if she gagged, if she choked. He slapped her face and she laughed. He spit on her mouth, grabbed her neck, took her tight asshole. He came once deep inside her, but it wasn’t enough. Alara knew the aphrodisiac in the air gave some… special endurance as well, and she intended to see exactly how long they could go. 

By the end her clothes had been ripped off her, her tits were covered in cum, her pussy pumped full three times, her ass abused, her buttocks red with spankings, her makeup ruined. And by the end, he had become anything but a Soldier.

The following day a meeting was called at the highest levels of the government. An elite unit had gone into Fulgrim’s, never to return. 

They would have to take drastic measures if they hoped to contain the corruption now growing in their city.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[catiuskaa]

putting to good use

a short sub!jisung smut because he has been going crazy this comeback and I know it for a fact.

posting bc i have 33 drafts and its making me and tumblr a bit crazy lol

MY MAN NEEDS TO CHILL BECAUSE WOW MAN I CAN HANDLE UP TO A POINT

WC: 0.9k

you had always been Jisung’s utmost supporter, his number 1 fan, and with the last comeback, who could blame his partner for wanting to reward all his hard effort?

“Jagi, i’m home!” He greeted, the smile on his face rolling off on his cheeky tone of voice. Jisung giggled softly at the loud hum you let out as a greeting.

He left his coat on the entrance and then walked to the small office/studio you had both created in the apartment so you two could work from home, soundproof panels adding to the vibe and making it clear that there was an artist among you two.

“Oh, hi baby, how was your day? Aww, it was good, jagi, thanks for asking!” He mocked, resting his shoulder on the doorframe.

You stared at him from above the computer screen, your hand fidgeting with your lips, then just nibbling on them, quickly eyeing back to the device.

Han’s eyebrows shot up. He chewed on his lip, wondering if maybe he had done something to annoy you?

What would normally happen was that you'd smile at him, take your headphones off, and hug him tightly. Not just acknowledge his presence with a hum and a nod, your eyes glued to your computer.

Lost in thought, he went over to the kitchen and took a pack of instant noodles for himself. But he hadn´t finished setting up the pot to heat up the water when your arms slithered their way to his waist, turning him and caging him against the countertop, bodies tight against one another.

"J-Jagi?" He stuttered, flustered from head to toe.

"Thought I wouldn't do anything about it, huh?" Your sly snicker sent chills all over his body, and he gasped when your hips pushed him further against the counter. "You, looking hot, and sweaty, and all bothered on stage..."

Each aspect numbered had been accompanied by a gentle thrust of your hips, and Jisung couldn't —wouldn't— dare to hide the little whimpers that came out of his mouth. You smirked, pressing soft kisses on the corner of his mouth.

"And, that silly little video... taking your jacket off your shoulders... and sticking your tongue out, breathless?" Whispers followed the trail of open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his shoulders, leaving lipstick stains on the way, and Han's legs wobbled in place, still trying to process what was happening.

He panted when you moved away slightly, almost failing to hold his weight on the counter behind him, feeling the cold marble pressed on his lower back, in contrast to how hot you had made him feel in the blink of an eye.

"I- I just..." he muttered, trying to get back his mind, which turned blank at your movements but was quickly silenced when you bit his lip.

You had never done anything like this. Yes, you liked to talk in bed sometimes, but never so dominating, never making him feel like he was yours to touch, and yours only.

He needed more. Now.

"Oh, baby." You cooed at him. He was seeing stars already, his body reacting to your touch and your whispers in a way he had never felt before. "If you stick your tongue out, you might as well be prepared to use it."

The kiss that followed was messy, like a flame that burned its way down his body, a mix of teeth and tongue that made him crazy. You then cradled his face in your hands and pressed his lips against yours, pulling him tightly against you. His mouth was fierce and eager, kissing you deeply, as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world. He didn't want to stop, so he kept pushing you against him, his fingers tangled in your hair as he held you close, his other hand weakly helping his body stay in place.

"I'm going to put that little mouth of yours to good use. Would you like that, baby?"

He was blushing furiously when you nibbled on his ear, waiting for him to reply, but you laughed when he nodded eagerly.

"Speak, baby. If we're going to do this, I need you to say what you want."

He panted, arousal flooding his body, his mind only able to focus on your body and your voice.

"F-Fuck, darling, please–"

You moved away from him, and he almost fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

You softly took his cheek in your hand, his skin hot and red.

"Such a good boy."

He couldn't help but groan now as he felt the anticipation build up inside him. He felt he was going to wake up at any moment because whatever was going on right now felt like a motherfucking dream.

Jisung let out a flustered sigh when you pushed him to the couch, your thigh spreading his legs open just enough to make him suddenly crave more.

"Be a good boy and don't move now, yeah?"

You felt his body tensing underneath your touch when you bent over, your hands resting on his thighs.

"Are you getting shy, baby?" You whispered tenderly at him, your tone completely different from before. He blushed deeply, not able to look at you when he nodded.

You raised your body and kissed him softly, a loving gesture that made Jisung feel butterflies not only on his belly, but all over his body.

“You are absolutely and undeniably beautiful, and you have no reason to worry about how you look or sound right now. Just enjoy it, baby.”

He cradled your face and kissed you tenderly.

You smiled. "Sit back and relax. I'll have my fun now."

~Kats, who had to stop because she got blocked and started laughing and giggling.

[l1tw1ck]

The Worst Boss on Earth

Haitham signs a contract with his boss to keep his job

Bottom!FtM Haitham x Top!Masc Reader

[Event] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Extreme Dub-Con, Titjob, Nipple Play, Squirting, Desk Sex

📝 W.C: 1,354

Al Haitham, your secretary, saunters into your office with a short stack of papers in his hands. He drops them onto your desk. "These are from the clients." He clarifies.

You sigh. "Why do you always give me more work when I'm already swamped?"

Al Haitham crosses his arms, shifting his weight to one foot. "It's not my fault, Mr. [Surname]."

"Still. Every time I see you I get annoyed." You shake your head. "I'll probably lay you off one of these days."

Haitham frowns. You're the type of boss to fire your secretary after a year or two —if they're lucky— of working. Most candidates are aware and apply for the job for the experience knowing they won't last long, quitting the job before You fire them. But Haitham didn't know until his coworker told him, and he needs this job. It's the second highest position anyone could get in Sumeru, and it's surprisingly simple and has a small workload, something Haitham prefers.

"Isn't it a hassle? To fire and hire constantly?"

"I would rather not have negative feelings towards my workers, especially my secretary." You shrug. "It's not like you need this job, you could probably find something better."

"Maybe." Haitham mutters. "When will you fire me?"

"Not today." You shrug again.

Haitham walks into the office wearing a pretty long coat, hiding his outfit up until he reaches the top floor.

He knocks on the door before entering.

"Ugh." You sigh, mostly joking to annoy him.

Haitham rolls his eyes, taking his coat off and setting it down somewhere. The sight immediately catches your attention.

"You- What is this?" You ask, exasperated and sporting a boner.

Al Haitham's wearing a button up, the bottom tied up to turn it into a crop top, it's mostly unbuttoned to show his cleavage. Underneath is a black lace bra. Further down, he's wearing a pencil skirt with a slit, matching lace panties, black stockings held up with matching black garters and black heels to top it off.

You wonder if you're still asleep and having a weird wet dream based off of a porn video.

Haitham walks to the other side of the desk, swiveling your chair around to face him. "You're hard." He says plainly.

"You don't say."

"If you want to have sex with me, you can't fire me." Al Haitham says.

You stare at Haitham's chest for a while. "Fine."

Al Haitham takes out a folded piece of paper from in between his breasts, something he learned from an exchange student back in his school days, and hands it to you.

You bite your lip, your boner getting harder to ignore, and unfolds the paper. A contract and a string of condoms.

"How about I add one more thing?"

"What?"

"You have to do what I ask of you."

Haitham makes an annoyed face. "Absolutely not."

"Then I won't sign. You think I don't have tons of candidates waiting to take your job?"

Al Haitham sighs and begrudgingly agrees, but not before listing his "hard no"s.

You sign the contract with the new additions added and turn back to your secretary. "Get on your knees." You order, unbuckling your belt.

Haitham takes a deep breath and sinks down to his knees. Your hard dick flops out, bigger than Haitham expected.

"Give me a titjob." You smirk. He would've refused if it weren't for the fact that he had to give up his autonomy for the contract. He hates that you have this power over him, but he's left without a choice.

Haitham frowns and unbuttons his shirt. He holds up his breasts, keeping his bra on, and slides them down and sandwiches your aching length.

You let out a low groan. "Start moving, pretty boy."

It takes everything in Haitham to not spit on or slap your face. He instead chooses to do as he's told and slides his tits up and down the hot shaft.

You grin at the wonderful feeling of your secretary's soft breasts hugging your length. "I should've threatened to fire you earlier." You marvel.

Haitham grimaces. "Are you going to come yet?" He asks, not wanting to do this any longer.

"A little more, don't talk. And don't make that face."

Al Haitham's face softens as much as he can manage to and speeds up his movements.

It's not much longer before you shoot your load onto your secretary's face, causing him to recoil and gag.

Haitham pulls away from you and stands up to get a tissue from your desk.

"Are you happy?" Haitham asks, more attitude in his tone than is called for.

"No, not yet. Take your skirt off and sit on my lap."

He frowns and slides his skirt off before climbing on top of you, avoiding your mostly flaccid cock.

You unhook his bra and hold his breasts in your hands, admiring the weight. "These are perfect."

"Pervert."

You scoff. "You're the one who came up with having sex in exchange for your job, you're more of a pervert than I am."

Haitham frowns. He can't really argue with that.

"Gods..." You stare at his puffy nipples. "Do you play with your nipples a lot?"

He looks away, not wanting to answer.

You chuckle. "So you do." You smirk, making his cheeks grow dark with blush. You drag your tongue up one of his nipples, swirling it around the almost swollen bud. Al Haitham covers his moans with his hand while unconsciously rolling his hips.

You choose to ignore it for the sake of sucking his nipple, your hand playing around with the other.

"Mmf-" Haitham throws his head back, a familiar and usually welcomed feeling crawls up his skin. "Wait- wait- ah~" He tries to pull you away but you're dead-set on sucking on his chest. "No- no-"

He tries to hold back but with the way you're working his sensitive nipples it's impossible for him to not squirt.

You finally pull away and look at the spectacle in front of you, amused at how quick and hard he came. "You liked it that much, sweetheart?"

Haitham looks at you with an extremely embarrassed expression.

You slide his wet panties to the side and turn him around, bending him over on the desk. You quickly slip a condom on, thankful he brought some. "I forgot to ask," You slide yourself inside him without warning. "Are you a virgin?"

He chokes out a gasp, your cock stretching out his previously virgin pussy. "I- I was-" He hisses.

You grin. "How does it feel, Haitham? Having your boss take your virginity?" You slowly slide out of him.

"It hurts–" He responds, cut off by you slamming into his g spot. "Ah~!" Haitham moans.

"Your pussy takes my cock so well, baby." You spank him. "So tight too."

He doesn't say anything, he's too busy wishing it didn't feel this good. Wishing he didn't love the feeling of your cock sliding in and out of him.

"I don't think I'll ever get rid of you, sweetheart." You grin.

"Too- too slow-" He breathes out.

"I'm going too slow, huh?" You move even slower. "Tell me that you love my cock, and I'll go faster."

"I- I love your cock, sir-" He gasps as you fuck him faster and ruthlessly.

"Good boy." You praise, hand running through his hair before grabbing it and pulling his head back. "Moan louder for me."

"Buh- but- Aah~!" Al Haitham chokes out a moan thanks to you spanking his ass. He gives up on holding back, moaning loudly and almost shamelessly.

"That's right, let everyone hear you."

"Clo- close–" He cries out, pussy squeezing you tightly and his body shaking as he comes.

You come shortly after, slowing down and filling up the condom. You pull out and have Al Haitham turn around and sit up.

You slide the condom off of you and bring it to his face. "Swallow." You order.

He grimaces before opening his mouth and letting you pour it down his throat.

"...Are you happy now?" He asks hoarsely.

"Very happy." You reply.

[pineappleciders]

sp main 4 with a reader who has an eating disorder; platonic headcanons

includes: stan, kyle, cartman, and kenny

A/N: kyles and kennys look so much longer than the rest oops LOL, also the ed is restrictive n implied as anorexia but others could fit it too 🤫

stan marsh

he notices when you don't eat your lunch, and how you tend to leave after meals. he doesn't think it's weird though, acknowledging that it's normal to have something not agree with your stomach or just not being hungry.

but, it started to worry him a little as it became more frequent, and how you were losing weight rapidly

he probably doesn't ask about it at first, but sometimes he'll mention little things or try to subtly express concern

"do you not like your lunch? you can have my fries, if you want."

he might confront you about it, and assumes that there's something else going on in your life that's been affecting you. he figures that would explain the lethargy, the dizziness, and how pre-occupied you are.

he has no idea what an eating disorder is.

you have to explain it, and he probably does some research online about what your disorder is and it just kinda. clicks for him. like the puzzle pieces snap into place

he thinks of all the times you've shown symptoms and warning signs, and he feels like a complete asshole for ignoring them

he keeps it in mind afterwards. he'll offer you pieces of his lunch, and invite your family over for dinner. he also reminds you that he's there for you, whatever that means.

he tries to spend more time with you, sort of as a way to ease his mind that you're safe. and he has his mom make your favorite snacks when you two hang out!!

stan tries to be more mindful of his words, and takes other peoples mental health more into consideration. it's kind of a wake-up call to him

"damn, Y/N, you got sand in your vagina? you look awful."

"lay off, cartman."

"what?! i'm just saying! we were all thinking it!"

if you get really dizzy and nearly faint he gets really scared and immediately takes you to the school nurse. like he's very concerned that you're dying or something and falls asleep in the nurses office waiting for you to recover

he doesn't fully understand the disorder, but he still feels really bad about it!!!! he hopes that one day you'll have a better relationship with food. until then, he's happy to do everything he can to make it easier on you

kyle broflovski

he's probably a little ignorant of your symptoms at first, like he'll tell himself in his head that it's probably nothing.

in fact, he probably thinks you're sick. puking, not eating, always tired. he assumes it's just the common cold, and doesn't pry.

he can't help but worry though. bringing your own lunch with barely anything in it, never staying still, always drinking diet drinks. it was little things that added up and made him suspicious

he wants to mind his own business, but he figures he would be a bad friend if he just let you go through whatever you're going through on your own. he has to be there for his friends.

"Y/N? dude, can i talk to you? over here." kyle pulls you out of the hall into a secluded area.

"uhh, yeah, what's up?"

"uh, listen dude, are you sick or something? like, you haven't been eating any of your lunches, and to be honest... you look terrible."

"gee, thanks."

"ah, i didn't mean it like that. you look exhausted, i mean look at your eyebags! is.. is something wrong?"

you struggle to find words.

"yeah, no, i'm.. i've been fine. a cold, is all."

".. are you sure?"

"...yyyeah."

he keeps an eye on you after that, giving a worried look and furrowed brow when you refuse to eat, but you dismiss it every time.

he starts to research online about what could possibly be going on. not eating, always tired, low-energy, regurgitation...

he comes to the conclusion you might have an eating disorder, and he's honestly super lost on where to go from there. does he confront you about it? does he say nothing and leave you alone? is it any of his business?

he decides to start trying to ease his way into conversation by packing you a lunch one day. that way, you have to eat it!

he does little things like that, like following you to the bathroom after lunch or stopping you during laps around the school. it's... a little manipulative, trying to pressure you into cracking or stopping your bad habits. but, he really doesn't know how else to approach this.

once he talks to you about it, he tries his best to be emotionally available for you. he tries to keep his mouth shut and listen to you talk.

afterwards, he'll give you little pats on the shoulder as encouragement, or bring little chocolates from home for you in his lunchbox. he knows he isn't the best with stuff like this, so he tries to show his care by inviting you to play video games at his house.

to him, quality time can be one of the best ways to bond with someone. he's always inviting you to hang out or go out for dinner with his family!

eric cartman

"you gonna eat that?"

"like you need anymore food, fat-boy."

he's mainly confused on why you're acting so weird. it's sloppy joe day, dude. what the fuck are you doing staring at the wall??

most definitely takes the food you don't eat

"dude, Y/N, what crawled up your ass and died? you've been picking at your food all period."

"..nothing."

he huffs and turns back to his tray, mumbling under his breath. "well, fine, be a dick."

if you were to ever pass out, he'd assume you didn't sleep enough or have like. heart issues or something. which wouldn't be that far off

he only really cares if it causes some sort of medical problem or something. like heart disease, fainting and hitting your bead. then atp it gets him a little nervous. mostly because he isn't prepared to rush anyone to the er anytime soon

it bugs him. like it gradually gets more and more under his skin how you're obviously starving yourself. yeah, he knows. and he wish he didn't, because it's so confusing to him

why???? what is the purpose??????

honestly might subtly try to talk to stan or kenny about it. not cuz he cares. definitely not

"have you noticed Y/N lately??"

"what about them?"

he sighs. "god, you really haven't noticed? they're totally ana-recks-it or whatever it's called. they hurl in the bathroom after lunch every day."

it's kind of hard for him to grasp his mind around,,,, so he chooses to ignore it. it still pisses him off though to no avail

he knows a bit about eating disorders from the internet and stuff, and that you're probably doing it out of insecurity or something. he really doesn't care about that part, but your habits gradually annoy him more and more

sometimes he'll just. push food to you at the lunch table. and when you ask why he's like huffing and reaches to take it back like "well damn i'll have it myself then"

he does get actually concerned if you get super light-headed or something. like if you stand up from your seat and fall back gripping your head he'll look at you from across the room all curious

and might take you to the nurse if nobody else will. maybe

kenny mccormick

yeah, he notices. he doesn't bring it up very often, how you don't eat a lot at lunch, mainly to save you any embarrassment.

he honestly just assumes you don't eat around him in particular out of sympathy. he thinks that you see his measly sandwich and apple and don't eat out of guilt. which he himself feels really bad about

tries to ask you what's wrong and ask if you don't want your food,, but tries not to make a big deal out of it

observes you a little closer, taking mental note of your weird little behaviors. going to the bathroom frequently, always walking, never quite seeming comfortable at your lunch table. he couldn't put his finger on it!

it was one day when you fainted and had to be sent to the nurses office that he pieced it together. he hadn't learned a lot about eating disorders, only a few bits and pieces off the web.

he felt guilty, for some reason. like he had failed you as a friend

i feel like if he were to confront you about it, he'd do it in a subtle way, not like an interrogation. he already feels like he's invading your privacy by mentioning it!!

he might bring it up while you're playing video games in your room. "mmph, mmmph? mm mm mmph mph mmphph? (hey, Y/N? can i ask you something?")

you pause the split-screen game you two were playing and look at him. "sure dude, go for it."

he looks around a little before his eyes land back on you. "mmphh.... mph mmphph mph mmph mph mmph mmphph mppphpm mmph mmmph. (so, i wanted to talk to you about something really important.")

you raise your eyebrow a little. "ookay."

he fidgets a little. "mph... mph mph mmphph? mmph.. mp mmph mph mphph mhp mmfmf mmphph mmphph. mmph mph? (well... are you okay? i've noticed you've been kinda distant lately. what's up?")

you feel your heart drop a bit, anxiety starting to swell. "uh.. i've been fine, i don't know what you're talking about."

his eyes look a little rejected, but he keeps trying. "mm.. mphm mph mphph mmf mm mph mph mmph mph. mp.. mp mph mmf mmf.. mphpmf mphhfm? mph mmmphph?(uh.. i'm just gonna say it. do.. do you have like.. eating problems? a disorder?")

he appreciates that you're talking to him about it, even if you're being honest or not.

he won't treat you differently afterwards. he'll give you a good pat on the back and a smile (you can only tell by the crinkle of his eyes), but he treats you the same.

he'll point out your funky mannerisms even less, and reminds you that you can talk to him. he isn't great at talking but he's great at listening!!!! also tries to be nicer to you. but he doesn't do it consciously, he just feels more of an urge to help you out and even protect you. specifically from cartman.

[storytowrite]

Love Untold (OT8 x F! Reader)

Chapter 23

Paring: BangChan x Y/N

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+, blowjob, overstimulation

Word Count: 3873

Masterlist

Due to the work of your parents, you are forcet to constantly move. However, this time moving houses let to interesting and unusual events. You met 8 handsome boys at school and somehow you managed to move in with them. How will your fate go?

……………………………..

Your parents' text messages were becoming more and more persistent. It was getting harder and harder for you to hide it from the boys. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to keep your emotions in check. You often locked yourself in your room, covered yourself with a blanket and cried. You felt powerless, you were afraid that you would have to go back to the people who hurt you so much.

And today was just such a day when you felt particularly shitty. Tonight was sleepless and hard. There was a huge confusion in your mind, your parents' messages showed that they were getting closer to finding you. You didn't know who to turn to. Contact with Sebastian seemed too risky since your parents could control him. But you also didn't want to bother any of the boys. After all, they had enough of their own problems.

You looked lazily at your phone, it was 2 p.m. You decided it was the right time to finally get out of bed and leave the room where you had been staying for several days. You put on some stretched out sweatpants and tied your hair in a messy bun. You didn't pay attention to your appearance at all, you didn't care if you looked beautiful or like a total bum.

You reluctantly left the room, blinded by the bright light that wasn't in your room. Squinting slightly, you headed towards the kitchen to eat whatever you could find in the fridge. All the time you were locked in your room, you weren't eating well, in fact, you could almost say you weren't eating at all.

You were only one thing away from starving yourself because Minho brought you home-cooked meals every day. The boy must have guessed that something was wrong, because often when you didn't open the door for him, he left food at your door, with a note attached with some nice words written on it.

Stretching, you crossed the threshold of the living room, but stopped mid-step to look around the room. Surprise was evident on your face as your eyes fell on the walls decorated with colorful garlands and balloons, and the table groaning under the weight of gifts caught your attention.

You were confused and started to wonder what was happening and who this celebration was organized for. You repeated all the boys' birthdays in your head, but none of them had even close birthdays. Unless you couldn't keep track of time and got the dates wrong. However, before you could comprehend the situation, a group of your close friends entered the living room.

"Surprise!" They shouted at the same time, causing surprise to appear on your face.

The boys smiled brightly as they stood in front of you, ready to wish you a happy birthday.

As the initial shock left your body, you felt your entire body warm up from the warmth of their gesture.

"I completely forgot it was my birthday today!" You laughed lightly, still unable to believe what the boys had prepared. "Thank you very much. It makes my day.”

"No problem, Y/n! We're here to support you and make you feel special!" Chan smiled, coming to hug you.

“We will do everything to make you feel special every day. “ Minho placed a sweet kiss on your cheek.

Their words brought tears to your eyes. You were touched by their kind gesture, but you were also sad that you distanced yourself from them so much and they would steal the moon for you.

"We have prepared something special for you." Changbin added, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

At this time, Felix entered the room, holding a huge handmade cake. This made you completely fall apart. You made a wish “ That this moment would last forever and that you would never have to leave them.” And you blew out the candle.

You lived this beautiful moment, you were happy to have them next to you. The boys were racing to give you gifts you never dreamed of having. You got a big teddy bear, beautiful perfume and much more. Finally, it was Hyunjin's turn, and he was the only one waiting calmly for his turn.

He brought you a beautifully packaged, quite large but narrow gift. You had absolutely no idea what it was. You carefully tore the decorative paper and saw a hand-painted picture of all 9 of you. Tears flooded your eyes again, you didn't know what to say, you were touched. You simply snuggled tightly into Hyunjin's chest, who hugged you back and gently rubbed your back, assuring you that your emotions were normal.

“I really don't know what to say. I love you guys. I love you so much. I'm sorry I've been acting like this lately, but my parents are getting me down. “ The smile on the boys' faces quickly turned into consternation. After all, you didn't tell them anything about the increasingly frequent threatening messages from your parents.

“Y/n, you can always tell us if something is bothering you. You know we will always listen to you and try our best to help you.” Han said, sitting down next to you and wrapping his arms around you.

You looked at all the boys who were waiting for your answer. You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts and began to speak.

“My parents started texting me more and more often, threatening to find me and force me to marry the guy who molested me at one of their parties. They chose him only because he is the son of an influential businessman who can strengthen their position on the market. Recently their messages have become more and more detailed and it seems to me that they are already close to finding me. I'm afraid they'll take me away from here and I'll never see you again." Just at the mention of your parents, you started shaking.

Han and Minho immediately hugged you, trying to calm you down. Of course, their touch, their warmth helped and I felt unpleasant shivers.

“You don't have to worry Y/n, we won't let anyone take you from us. Hyunjin assured you, gently circling your hand with his finger.

You looked around the room, seeing all the boys standing close to you, assuring you that everything would be okay, it made your body fill with peace and warmth. You trusted them, you trusted that they would do everything to make you feel good, like the most important person in the world. You were theirs and they were yours.

Your mood improved slightly and you decided that there was no point in wasting time and that you should celebrate.

“Let's celebrate! “ You screamed, and all eight of them followed you.

The next thing you could hear were cheers and the sounds of opening bottles and cans full of various alcohols echoing around the room. You had a great time listening to great music. The time for drinking new drinks made by Hyunjin was interrupted by dancing with each of the boys.

After a few drinks and you don't know how long, you danced with everyone except Chan, who was sitting on the couch watching you all. The boy was by far the most sober person in the entire house and he was having a great time watching his friends behave after drinking too much alcohol.

You had to admit that it must have looked funny when everyone was tripping over their feet, falling and rolling on the ground laughing. You felt like you were about halfway there when it came to your level of intoxication. The clear winner was Han, who was close to dying, but Minho was already taking care of him to prevent that from happening.

You took a few sips of another drink and felt a great need to dance with someone. You looked around the room and everyone seemed to be busy. Minho was keeping an eye on Han, Changbin was practicing with Felix, and Hyunjin was preparing more drinks for Jeongin and Seungmin. The only person who was doing nothing was Chan, who was sitting in the men's spread, leaning against the backrest, one hand between his legs. His posture exuded confidence.

He looked hot and you swore he had been staring at you for a long time. His gaze was deep and full of mystery, radiating sensuality, like the flames of a fire in the dark. His lips were slightly parted, revealing the spark of unbridled lust that danced in his eyes. His breathing was almost palpable, and every movement of his muscles focused your attention on him. He looked at you as if he wanted to dive into the ocean of your existence.

You took a few steps towards him, keeping your eyes on him and started dancing. It wasn't a very difficult dance, you focused more on sensuality than skill. You squirmed to the rhythm of the music, gently pulling up your shirt every now and then, exposing your belly.

Chan wasn't reacting the way you wanted him to, he was just looking at you, so you decided to get closer. Your movements were bold, full of sex appeal. You stood between his legs, turned your back to him and leaned up, exposing your round buttocks. You felt his hands on your thighs, moving slowly upwards. And after a while, your buttock burned from the boy's strong slap.

You turned to him, a slight smirk on his face. He licked his lips slowly, grabbing the back of your legs and pulling you towards him so that you were now straddling his lap. Chan squeezed your buttocks and you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music.

You were about to press a kiss to his plump, full lips when you felt the cold, sticky drink spread over your body. You jumped away from Chan and saw Han lying on the ground with an empty glass in his hand. Minho was already standing near him and trying to pick him up, apologizing to you at the same time.

You weren't mad at your friend, you even laughed when you noticed how bad his condition was. You wiped your face from the drops of drink running down your cheeks. You looked down at yourself and realized that you needed to take a bath, and quickly, before your hair got unresolvable tangles.

You went to your room, grabbed your towel and went to the bathroom. You took off your soaking wet clothes and stepped into the shower. Water flowed from the ceiling shower, creating a cascade of pearl drops that resounded melodiously in harmony with the gentle noise. Steam filled the bathroom, enveloping you in a mist of humidity, creating an intimate atmosphere.

You sank into yours, standing under the stream of warm water that enveloped you like a soothing touch. Your skin reacted to the heat, and you squinted slightly as the drops flowed down your body like pearls on velvet fabric. This pleasant feeling brought to mind the situation from a moment ago.

Thinking about Chan, you started caressing your body. Your hands glided over your skin and you melted into the pleasant massage that dissipated the tension and made you feel relaxed. You imagined that every movement of your hands was replaced by Chan's, as if he was standing with you in the shower and caressing your body.

You were starting to get aroused, heat filling every inch of your body. You slowly rubbed your thighs together, trying to satisfy your needs in any way possible. You placed two fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Every now and then you sucked on one of them, you really wanted your fingers to be something else, but for now it had to be enough.

You moved your saliva-moistened fingers to your crotch. You painted in circular motions on your clit. Your mouth involuntarily opened in pleasure, letting out a soft moan. You grabbed your breast with your other hand and slowly started caressing it. A wave of pleasure spreads through your body. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to take a full breath, and the drops of water hitting the ground drowned out your moans.

Your imagination began to work even better, behind your closed eyes you knew Chan was touching you where you liked it best. Drops of water replaced his lips as they glided over your body, leaving wet marks made with his tongue.

“Agh…Chan…Yes…that's right…” You couldn't hold back your words.

Suddenly you heard loud clapping. Your eyes immediately opened, moving towards the sound. Chan was standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the wall and shaking his head slightly. As usual, he had that smirk on his face.

“ Oh well, someone's having fun here. “He went inside and closed the door behind him.

His voice was calm, slightly throaty, pleasantly teasing to your ears. You were shocked and quickly stopped doing what you were just doing. You got out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel. The boy immediately pinned you to the wall, lifting your arms up. The quick movement caused your towel to slide to the ground.

You stood completely naked in front of him, his thigh between your legs, pressing against your still sensitive pussy. His body was close enough to you that you could feel the warmth radiating from it. The boy leaned towards you, closing the distance between you even more.

“Let me show you what a real pleasure is, baby girl.” He whispered into your ear, pressing even harder against your crotch.

His movement made you bite your lip, holding back the release of the moan that was hiding just beyond your lips. As soon as he loosened his grip, your hands fell limply to his shoulders. Your fingers dug into his neck as his full lips placed their first kiss on your neck.

You felt every move he made, every breath he took, with double the force. Your body was very sensitive to everything he did. You closed your eyes, completely surrendering to his touch. You drown in his kisses, which lightly tickle your neck. Chan knew exactly what to do to give you as much pleasure as possible.

His lips traveled all over your neck, leaving wet marks in their wake. Every now and then he would lightly suck on your neck and your body would respond with a beautiful arch, allowing him even better access. They don't want to let you rest for a moment, the boy ran his tongue along your collarbones, lightly biting your skin.

You dug your fingers into his skin even harder, to the point that your fingertips turned white. You couldn't hold back your moans any longer as his hands cupped the underside of your breasts, lifting them slightly. Before you knew it, his mouth was around your nipple, sucking on it. Moments later, Chan added his tongue, rubbing small circles around your hard nipple.

“Agh…Channie…” It fell from your lips, causing a smile to appear on Chan's face, but he didn't stop playing with your breasts. His tongue swirled nimbly between one nipple and the other, biting them from time to time.

While he was giving you an enormous amount of pleasure, you didn't want to be left indebted to him, so you slid one hand down his body, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and in one swift movement, took it off him. The boy was now standing topless in front of you, and even though it wasn't the first time you had seen him without a shirt, you were always amazed by the sight of his well-built body.

The other hand went to his already swollen crotch. You moved it around, adapting to the rhythm Chan gave you with his tongue. The atmosphere in the bathroom was getting hotter and the air was getting thicker, making it difficult for you to breathe.

Finally, Chan stopped playing with your breasts and in a fluid movement he sat you down on the counter next to the sink. He moved between your legs, cupping your buttocks in his hands and planted a luscious kiss on your lips. Your tongues fought against each other in a romantic dance, your saliva mixing together in thin threads as you broke apart for a moment to breathe.

You felt that you wouldn't last long until Chan filled you from the inside, so you slightly pushed him away from you, knelt right in front of him and took off his pants and panties. The boy knew exactly what you were planning, he inserted his fingers between your hair and gripped it hard.

Without further ado, you took his cock into your mouth and deepthroated him. Tiny drops of tears formed in your eyes as Chan pushed his cock even harder down your throat. But you didn't move away, you just looked at him from below and started moving your head. Chan towered over you, looking at you with great desire, but at the same time carefully making sure he didn't overdo his movements.

His cock grew even bigger in your mouth, revealing his thick veins. Your legs were already starting to shake. You couldn't hold in any longer the arousal that was inside you. Your juices flowed out of you, more and more.

Chan lifted you off his lap, bending you down and resting you against the bathroom counter. You were facing the mirror and you were leaning towards it. Your breasts were pressed against the cold stone. The boy spread your legs, immediately placing the first, not too hard, slap on your buttock.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, but you liked it. A moment later you felt Chan guide his fully erect cock towards your hole. You couldn't wait for him to fill you, for him to start fucking you. You were ready to fulfill every one of his deepest fantasies.

Chan immediately pushed his full length into you and waited for you to get used to his size. Only when he was sure everything was okay did he start moving. His movements were strong and confident, hitting your sweet spot perfectly. Your legs went slightly weak under you, but Chan quickly caught you and supported you so that you wouldn't run away from him.

The force of Chan's movements was so strong that you placed your hand on the mirror to give yourself better support. You were now looking directly at your reflection and seeing what you looked like when Chan was fucking you from behind.

Your earlier play had brought you close to your climax, and now you didn't have to wait long for a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. The orgasm was very strong, your whole body was shaking and you were glad that Chan was holding you because you would definitely fall.

The boy didn't stop moving his hips the whole time, maintaining the same rhythm. When you reached the end of your fulfillment, you felt another slap, this time harder, on your buttock. Your bottom stung and the raspberry red imprint of his hand appeared on it.

“I'll make you scream my name.” Chan's voice resonated in your ears, but you didn't fully understand what he said because the post-orgasmic emotions hadn't left you yet.

“Chan more, more please.” Was all you could say as your eyes rolled back in pleasure.

You lowered your head, but the boy grabbed your hair and pulled you up so you could see what he was doing to you.

“Look how you look while I'm fucking you. Watch you act like a whore, demanding more.” His movements became even more aggressive.

A few movements and your body experienced a pleasant feeling again. Your pussy throbbed and the feeling became almost unbearable. Two such intense orgasms in a matter of minutes exhausted you, but Chan had no intention of stopping.

“Chan I…I can't take it anymore.” Your voice was shaky and very quiet.

“Hold on for me just a little longer, baby girl.” He placed a few kisses along your spine and continued in the same rhythm again.

He gripped your hips even tighter, digging his fingers into your skin. His movements were strong, and he moved you to double the force of his blows to your sweet spot. After two powerful orgasms, you were overstimulated and your eyes were glazed over with tears gathering in them.

You don't know how long it took until you felt the pleasure approaching again, but for you it felt like an eternity. And your mirror image showed it perfectly. You were all wet, your hair was sticking to your forehead, your eyes were red and your body felt like jelly.

"Chhan! Agh! Chan! I can't handle it anymore. I can't stand it.” You shouted without lowering your voice at all.

“Just a moment. You can do it." His voice was airy and heavy, as if he was approaching fulfillment himself.

“Agh…Chan!!!” You couldn't take it any longer and a third orgasm took over your body.

Your walls tightened around Chan's cock as it began to throb inside you.

“Ugh…You're tightening on me. It feels so good.” The boy sped up his movements and a moment later you felt warm sperm shooting inside you.

Your legs were shaking mercilessly and felt like cotton. You dropped your body onto the cold countertop and were glad that Chan was holding you, because you would have been on the ground a long time ago. When he finished cumming inside you, he pulled out of you and placed a sweet kiss on your ass where his handprint was.

While you were recovering on the bathroom counter, Chan ran a bath for you. Once the water filled the tub, he lifted you up like a princess and gently placed you in, then sat down right behind you and wrapped his arms around you tenderly.

“Happy birthday Y/n. You did well.” He said, pulling you closer to him and placing a small kiss on your shoulder.

Your cheeks flushed and you don't know why you felt embarrassed.

“Thank you Chan.” You rested your head on his shoulder and snuggled in as much as you could.

You spent some time in the water, your fingers started to wrinkle and the water slowly became cold but you felt blissful. You immersed yourself in the moment, your moment together.

“Y/n.” You turned to face Chan. “Back to what you told us. You have nothing to worry about, we won't let you be taken away, you have nothing to worry about. You belong to us and your place is here, with us. We all love you and we won't give it up for anything in the world.” His words made you emotional and you placed a kiss on his lips.

Suddenly you heard a bang coming from behind the door and then you remembered that there were 7 very drunk guys in the living room. You quickly got out of the bathtub, got dressed and went to take care of the revolution that was taking place in the living room.

<- Part 22 | Part 24 ->

[mpregandproud]

Isaac II (Part 7)

Once Isaac and I got back to fucking all the pieces of my life were back in order. There was something missing in my life and that was to feel my husband skin to skin. Yes, we've been together for 20 years, but living each other to the fullest again made all of this make sense again. With my previous pregnancies, the sex was one of the biggest attractions, so something was missing here.

Fewer kids around the house made things easier for Isaac and I to make up for lost time. My rest forced me to be home practically all day, added to the fact that the boys were practically out of the house all day between school and extracurriculars and that Isaac works from home, meant that in just a few days we were more than catching up.

So much cumming inside me made my belly start to grow at a much faster rate. I guess it also affects that the caloric expenditure of all this exercise we are practicing is leading me to eat a lot more. Not to mention that between months 5 and 7 the fastest growth usually occurs, and I'm right in the middle of it. Nothing I haven't experienced before.

As for our children, Sandra and Cal informed us that they wanted to travel to his parents' home country soon. Although we thought it might be risky going into their fifth month of pregnancy, they were really looking forward to sharing this moment with Cal's grandparents before she gave birth.

As for Patrick and Isaac, they are somewhere between scared and very horny. If my hormones are raging, they, in the midst of adolescence, are unbearable. This situation got a little tricky when the high school principal called Lucas and I into his office because the boys were caught having sex during a break between classes in the student restrooms.

Lucas and I didn't know where to jump in when we got there and saw the two boys waiting to go into the principal's office. They both stood up with a start and looked very embarrassed. They had better be embarrassed, they had been caught making love in a bathroom, what less to be embarrassed about. Two guys with bellies that rival mine doing this kind of dirty stuff in a public place, it can't be right. We went into the principal's office with them.

“Gentlemen, we know that your children are a couple, and we have no problem with that, but it can't be that they are having intercourse in the bathroom,” said this elderly gentleman with incredible seriousness.

The moment was very serious but Lucas and I couldn't help but laugh. I remember that in our student days Frank was caught having sex with half the school. In one of those encounters he conceived his first child, Frances. We both remember when he and Stephania were pulled out by the ear in front of the whole school.

“Excuse me Mr. Principal, it's just that we experienced this in our student days and we couldn't help but remember our friend Frank. You are absolutely right, this can not be repeated, we will talk to them,” Lucas told him, as I was still laughing at the situation.

Both were expelled for a week and had to commit not to repeat this behavior. At home we talked to them and agreed that they would not do it again, that at home they could let off steam as much as they wanted, but outside the house they could only hold hands or kiss each other. Deep down I feel sorry for them, because they are living their adolescence to the fullest and without barriers. The madness of youth, who could live it again.

A month after their trip to Africa, Sandra and Cal sent us a beautiful photo of the two of them. She already had a huge belly and they looked happy and radiant. Isaac and Patrick have entered into a kind of competition to see how many times a day they can fuck. Blessed youth, not even the fact that they were already huge at six months pregnant didn't stop them.

In my case, at eight months, I am starting to feel the weight of pregnancy. If before I could go for walks around the house, now I was locked in my room practically all day long, lying in bed. Isaac often came to give me his medicine, although not as much as I wanted.

The last month of pregnancy went really slowly, but I guess that's what happens when you can only eat, watch TV and fuck sporadically when your husband isn't working or taking care of a house full of minors.

The thing is that with a week to go before my due date, I started to feel intense discomfort. My belly dropped, it became hard as a rock and the contractions started to be too intense. The problem was that this situation didn't improve for three days, and my water wouldn't break for any reason. So it was time to resort to extreme measures. “Isaac, honey, it's your turn to get these four out of me like you did with the previous ones, like only you know how.” He nodded and started to take off his clothes, already my man was coming to save me.

Go to Part 8

[azaliyas]

Hi! I saw this cute tik tok where Alhaitham is autistic and his weighted blanket was being washed so he was very grumpy snd couldn’t fall asleep so like kaveh decided to lay on top of him to try and emulate the blanket.

If it’s ok can you do that but alhaitham x reader, romantic and established relationship? Sorry if it’s confusing 😭

summary : alhaitham is a man of simple requests and simple needs, but when they're not met, like his precious blanket not being on him for the night, it can become quite the problem. luckily for him you, his amazing lover, have a solution that he will gladly enjoy (but he will never admit it).

word count : [ to be added later ]

genre : fluff.

cw / tw : none.

characters : alhaitham.

note : omg me?? posting?? what a rare occasion 💀 yes i'm not dead and i'm still writing! i just forget to post '^' anyway anon i'm sorry for the delay 😭 you have the right to bonk me if you want, i deserve it anyway ;-; this idea was so cute tho, i need to see that tiktok even if i don't ship haikaveh lol // i have more pieces ready they just need proofreading (if i can find the will to, otherwise to hell with that :D). on a serious note 1) i didn't understand much about weighted blankets so if this piece is off eeeeehhhh i tried 2) internet said that habibti was the right word, but if habibi is the one let me know please! hope you can enjoy this, sorry my sporadic appearances 🫠❤️

a few years into your relationship with alhaitham you learned quite the number of curious facts about the scribe that many didn't know — not because alhaitham kept them a secret, but only because of his reserved personality that didn't make him open up to the first person that was in front of him.

the scribe liked his coffee burning hot with no sugar and just a little sip of milk, enjoying it sitting at the same spot of the kitchen table every morning. he also liked working out mostly in the evening and take a shower right after. alhaitham loved sleeping on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat a comforting lullaby.

speaking of sleeping habits, alhaitham could only sleep with his weighted blanket wrapped around his body. because of this, the scribe was very attentive in washing it during the day so it would be dry for the evening. that was one of the first things you taught yourself to do in order to help your boyfriend, a gesture that had the dendro user fall harder for you.

at least, that's what you succeeded to do until today. the rain didn't allow the blanket to dry during the whole day, and so by the evening it was still dump. impossible to let it be used, even when you had hung out the blanket before starting cooking dinner for tonight. by the time you and alhaitham had to turn in for the night, it was still wet. and cold. defeated, you had to put the weighted blanket aside.

you found alhaitham standing near the mattress in your shared bedroom, pyjama on and ready to crash the bed and fall asleep. that was, but his blanket was amiss.

your groan came out sounding more like a whine noticing this scene. you cursed the rain while scrambling your thoughts trying to find a solution.

«it's fine.» alhaitham said, turning on his feet to look at you. you knew he was lying.

«it's not! how are you supposed to fall asleep without your blanket?!» you whined again, a sound of exasperation leaving your throat right after.

«i can put more blankets on top of each other. it's not a problem.» your boyfriend rebutted, walking toward the wardrobe.

alhaitham pulled out some blankets and started laying them on the bed one after the other. deep down the scribe knew it wasn't the exact same thing, but a weighted blanket had its purpose in the deep-pressure touch that brought calmness and comfort. and that deep-pressure touch was given by the heavy weight. by logic, more blankets on top of each other had to be enough heavy.

but for once in his life, alhaitham was wrong. it was a weird feeling, but not as weird as tossing around back and forth, incapable of sleeping for more than five minutes before waking up again. his movements and his grumbling had you waking up.

you turned on your side and faced your boyfriend, just in time to meet his gaze. he furrowed his brows as soon as he noticed you staring at him.

«sorry for waking you up.» he murmured, annoyance clear in his voice. not at you, of course, but at his incapacity of falling asleep.

you looked at him, eyes focused, and alhaitham knew you were thinking hard about something, but what that something was he didn't know.

without a word you dragged yourself on top of alhaitham, who laid on his back as you took place on his chest, your blanket wrapping around both your bodies. your head rested in the crook of his neck, your hands gently pressed on his chest, right above where his heart was.

«habibti... what are you doing?» alhaitham looked at you like you just grew a second head on your shoulders.

«well, the comfort of a weighted blanket is in its weight, right?» you asked, raising your head to look at him. alhaitham slowly nodded. «hence my position: i will act as your blanket for the night.»

to say the scribe was flabbergasted was an euphemism. he didn't mind your wonderful mind and colorful ideas, after all it was one of the reasons why he fell in love with you, but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if you the hamster running on your wheel wasn't actually high on something.

«it doesn't make sense.» he rebutted.

«this is where you're wrong, haitham. it does. weighted blankets have their purpose in their weight, that brings comfort thanks to the fact they mimic a hug, helping you release serotonin and dopamine, hormones that soothe you and help you sleep.»

you concluded your explanation with a satisfied smile, chin resting on your knuckles while you looked at your speechless boyfriend. it was a very rare occurrence to leave the scribe without anything to say, and almost all of the times it was because of you.

sighing and subtly rolling his eyes, alhaitham decided at last to try your idea and sleep like that — although, your chest was a much better pillow than the feather ones his head was currently laying on.

...

oh what a delight was to see your boyfriend's stunned face the next morning, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to his god-touched features as he was blinking away from the sun rays pouring from the window.

«don't.» he grumbled.

your smile turned into a knowing smirk.

«told ya!» you happily chimed.

© azaliyas 2023 do not copy repost translate or feed to ai

[runnning-outof-time]

Ohh hi❤️ blurb requests yeah!! Can I please request Back Hugs back hugs back hugs with Tommy? (Maybe with the added addition of nuzzling the nose into the back of his neck?😂) have a great night!

Hello anon!! 👋🏻👋🏻 thanks so much for sending this in! This idea came to me almost immediately. I hope you enjoy it! Also quick shoutout to @thomashelbyswhore who also sent this one in!

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! :)

———

Some Motivation

Tommy Shelby

Warnings: none

(Y/N) lets Tommy know that he’s doing exactly what he’s supposed to be.

Tommy stood at the front side of his desk. He’d just come back from a meeting and was feeling the pressures of everyone’s expectations weighing down on him. Piles of papers were scattered around his desk. He didn’t know what he should do first. Instead of making any moves to get started on it, he rested his hands on the desk and let out a sigh.

He was so encompassed by the thoughts in his head that he didn’t hear the office door open, or the footsteps coming his way. He tensed up at the feeling of arms encirling his torso, and was about to act when he looked down and saw the glimmer coming from the wedding ring that he immediately recognized as (Y/N)’s. How could he forget the ring he’d shakily placed onto her finger a handful of years ago now? He offered many times to buy her a newer, bigger, one, but each time she refused. Another sigh escaped his lips, this one of content, as he felt her rest her cheek against his shoulderblades.

“That could’ve been dangerous, love,” he remarked, his hands dropping to gently hold onto her wrists as she hugged him tightly.

“I’ll take my chances with you, Tom,” she whispered back, not making any moves to let go of him. Instead of trying to break out, Tommy accepted the hug and let her stay pressed against his back. “You seemed stressed after that meeting,” she commented after a few quiet moments had passed.

“There’s a lot on my plate,” he answered her, his eyes falling onto the piles of papers again. I should get started on them, he thought. “A lot of people are coming to me; needing me to do things.”

“You’ll get them done in due time,” she assured him, craning her head upwards so that she could nuzzle her face into his neck. His scent immediately overcame her senses, and she let out a content sigh as she breathed it in. He always smelt like home.

“Maybe I’ve taken on more than I can handle,” he said after a few more moments had passed.

This sentence made (Y/N) lift her face from his neck and finally unwrap her arms from his middle. This allowed Tommy to turn and face her. He was only able to hold her gaze for a moment before he looked to the ground. (Y/N) pursed her lips as she studied his features. It was obvious that he was stressed; that he was overwhelmed by the amount of work that needed to be done, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly happy at the fact that he was willing to show her these emotions. He usually kept them bottled up and close to the chest.

“I don’t think you have,” she said to him, her voice making him look up again, “you know what you can handle. You’ve dealt with much more before, and you’ve came out of that successful. This time will be the same,” she assured him, hoping that her little speech would spark some motivation within him. He said nothing in response to her pep talk, the solemn expression still lingering on his features. “I could help you with the papers, if you’d want,” she offered then.

“You wouldn’t want to be dealing with that,” Tommy was quick to point out.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t…” (Y/N) responded, not masking her true feelings. She hated doing paperwork of any sort, but it was part of the nature of the job, “but I’d do it for you. Anything to take some of the weight off of your shoulders,” she ended her statement with a smile.

Tommy tried his hardest not to let the smile break through onto his straight faced expression. He knew he was lucky to have (Y/N) in his life, but it was days like today, and moments like this, that just hammered that sentiment home. “I’ll give you the papers I’m finished with…to make sure that they check out,” he told her the plan, and she nodded before grabbing one of the chairs facing his desk so that she could drag it around to where his chair was.

They both sat down and got to work; Tommy filling out the papers and (Y/N) checking over them. Time went by quietly for a bit before Tommy stopped and looked at (Y/N). Feeling his eyes on her, she also stopped to look at him.

“What?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Thanks for this,” he told her, his words coming out quietly.

But she heard them loud and clear. “You’re welcome,” she smiled at him, the expression alone telling Tommy that he shouldn’t be worrying so much about all of this. Things would be ok.

———

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @sunsetbeachesandwriting @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel

MASTERLIST

[thepremedthatwrites]

On the House (pt. 3)

Summary: The Pevensies have decided to run a cafe together, a cafe that the reader has come to frequent every Saturday like clockwork. As time goes on, it becomes evident that a certain blond has started to catch feelings for the reader.

requested by @theonottsbxtch

part 1 | part 2

(Y/n) found her job boring. This was alarming because she had never felt this way before. In fact, she loved her job. The publishing industry was one of stiff competition and having a passion for the work was the bare minimum in order to be considered a competitive candidate. She loved being able to witness the process of a book being made, especially the beginning when the authors she worked with pulsated with excitement, knowing their life’s work was finally going to be revealed to the masses.

But she couldn’t focus on her work anymore. Instead, she went through the motions, unable to focus on anything except for the anticipation of the weekend. All her mind was set on was one thing. The Lamppost Cafe. Every Saturday all she could think about was going into the cafe at one o’clock and getting to see Peter again. Some days she even considered going earlier than her regular time but stopped herself, not wanting to see desperate in any way.

Ever since she learned his name, she kept repeating it to herself. She would say it to herself while making her morning coffee, or while she was showering. It was like a mantra for her. She even found herself waking up sometimes with the name still fresh on the tip of her tongue. As if she expected him to be laying on the other side of the bed, responding to her call. 

Saturday came at an agonizing pace but soon enough she was grabbing her bag and book before heading for the cafe. After slugging through the week, the walk energized her. She felt the wind blow through her hair as she went, her eyes wide with excitement as the cafe came into view. She didn’t hesitate to walk up to the register where Peter was waiting for her. She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but it felt as though his smile brightened as she neared him. “The usual?” he asked, already ringing her up.

“How did you know?” (y/n) joked, flashing him a smile. There was a pause as their eyes caught each other. He broke first, looking down at the register to read out the total. (Y/n) blinked a few times, as if it would flush away the pink that had started to grow on her cheeks. She began digging through her bag to find her wallet. “Actually, you know what, it’s on the house.”

“Really?” (y/n) responded. Behind Peter, she could his siblings pausing what they were doing and stealing quick glances at them. “Is there a certain sale today?”

“Oh no, it’s just you always come here. Think of it as us showing you our thanks for your support.” He let out a chuckle before flashing a quick smile. He was now rocking his weight back and forth and his eyes were back on the register. 

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you guys!” she responded, a bright smile growing on her face. “Thank you so much!” Peter looked up at her and she could tell his face was a shade redder than it had been when she first entered the cafe. 

“It’s my pleasure,” he said. (Y/n) let out a small giggle, remembering the first time he had said the strange phrase when he had brought out her order. “I’ll bring over your order once it’s ready.” She nodded before making her way to her usual table. 

As Peter walked towards the back, Susan said in a low voice, “I hope you’re planning on covering the cost for your girlfriend.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah whatever. And she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yet,” Lucy added, chuckling as she started to steep the tea. Peter only scoffed before stealing a glance at (y/n). He hoped his face felt much more warm than it actually looked. If she had noticed his blush, he wouldn’t be able to face her again. How unprofessional it would be for a customer to believe he was flirting with her! Of course, he was only offering free food and drink because she was a regular. It wasn’t anything with romantic undertones. At least that’s what he would say if his siblings questioned him. But deep down, he knew the truth. He knew that he spent a bit longer getting ready on Saturdays and that as the clock neared one o’clock he took his place at the register even though he hated dealing with the confusing machinery that somehow always malfunctioned when he used it. 

“Well, are you going to give your girlfriend her order?” Susan asked, already putting the cup and plate into his hands.

“Quit calling her that, will you?” 

“Oh, do you prefer future Mrs. Pevensie?” 

“Very funny.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to do my job.” He walked away before his sister could add one last remark. As he neared (y/n)’s table, he could feel his face warming once again. “Here’s your order,” he said, placing the stuff down onto the table.

“Oh, thank you,” (y/n) replied, putting down her book. 

“Haven’t you already read that one?” Peter felt his face become even warmer as he said that, realizing he had given away the fact that he had been watching her for the past few weeks. She let out a small laugh and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. 

“I fear I don’t have many books, so I cycle through them constantly.”

“Well, there’s a bookstore right down the street. Their prices are pretty low and they have a pretty wide variety of books.”

“Oh that’s sound wonderful. I should definitely check them out some time.” There was a pause. The girl looked up at him, the smile she was wearing turning somewhat playful. “This is the part where you suggest taking me to the bookstore.” She wasn’t sure where the confidence had come from but she was glad she said it as a wide smile grew on Peter’s face.

“I’m off tomorrow, does that work?”

“Perfect. We’ll meet here?”

“Is one o’clock good for you?”

“It always is,” she replied, smiling into her cup of tea as she took a long sip, the honey warming her throat on the way down.