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elliaze · 3 years ago

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GODS WARRIOR - CHAPTER TWO

A/N: New chapter is here! Enjoy you're reading!

Pairings: Steven Grant x fem!reader x Marc Spector

Warnings: age gape (everyone is an adult, nothing illegal) , fluff?

Words Count: 2900+

MASTERLIST

UNSCHEDULED DATE?

A FLEETING VISIT TO THE MUSEUM HAD GIVEN HER ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

Y/N wanted to pull her hair out of her head as she sat overbooks of Egyptian legends and legends and wondered how she was even supposed to find Khonshu's avatar. She had no information, she didn't even know whether it was male or female.

She was frustrated, Poseidon wasn't answering her calls, and she felt like quitting this all.

The only problem was that she couldn't. She felt like just a few years ago at university she had to prepare for a particularly hard exam the day before it was due and couldn't even concentrate on the notes she was reading. Now, with the passage of time, she wondered how she had managed to get a Master's degree while also working a half-part time job in a bar and being at every call of the deities.

She needed a moment to rest, so she closed her laptop and walked out of her small studio flat, practically slamming the door. Spinning her keys around her fingers, she headed towards the stairs without a second thought, which she began to run down. A few minutes later and nine floors below, Y/N stepped out into the cool London evening air and almost breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to forget for a moment about what awaited her in the flat, but the truth was that her task was still swirling around in her mind. It wasn't the first time she had to do something where she had virtually no information. And while she was used to the Olympians adoring her, they also loved to tease her about it, which meant she had to deal with getting basic information on her own.

She stopped at a traffic light, tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and plunged into her thoughts for a brief moment. Following Poseidon's advice, she went to the museum to see an exhibition about Ancient Egypt and even paid for the guide, who turned out to be a complete loser and a bore. She regretted not seeing Steven in the gift shop that day, and as soon as she asked about him, the blonde woman behind the counter so measured her with her eyes from top to bottom and muttered something unintelligible under her breath. Then Y/N decided to go back to her flat and try another way to find out something. The problem was that so far she hadn't found that other way and wasn't moving forward with her task one bit. She knew she was playing with time and probably fate, because she knew Poseidon well enough to know that this was all extremely important. She preferred not to even think about what would happen if something went wrong. One surviving disaster, where half the world was wiped out and then restored after five years, was definitely enough for her.

The lights changed to green, and she set off ahead. She didn't actually know where she was going, but when she recognized the alley where one of her favourite restaurants was located, she decided that there was no harm in having dinner out. She had the choice of spending some money on a good steak, or going home, where she would have to spend another forty minutes preparing her favourite pasta. The choice was easy.

Y/N directed her steps towards the entrance of the restaurant, but quickly stopped when she recognized Steven from the library at one of the tables in the garden. She had a feeling that he looked even worse than the last time she had seen him. He was completely broken up about something, and on the table was a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. He was dressed in an elegant black shirt, and she had to admit that he looked handsome. She knew from the start that he must have been older than her, but the truth was that during those few days, she thought about him occasionally. She didn't quite understand it, especially since she had only spoken to him once, but the man was clearly in her memory.

I hope I don't make a fool of myself.

She fixed her hair and then walked over to the table where Steven was sitting.

“Steven?” She asked uncertainty, and the man lifted his gaze to her. “I don't know if you remember me…”

“Yes, I remember,” he interrupted her. “Y/N. You work in the library.”

“That's right”- she nodded. “Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, but are you alright?”

Steven sighed heavily, looking briefly at the empty chair opposite.

“Yeah, I just had” he paused for a moment, and she smiled softly at him. “I was supposed to have a date, but apparently I got the wrong days.”

“I don't know much about it, but it seems to me that you are not the first or the last one to get the wrong day” she winked at him. “It can happen even to the best ones.”

“It is very nice of you to say so,” he answered and lifted his gaze to her. “Maybe this will be stupid, but would you like to...?” Steven pointed his hand at the empty chair, sending her a questioning look. She wrinkled her eyebrows, surprised by this proposal. “Until now, people have been staring at me like I'm an idiot for getting the wrong day.”

“You shouldn't worry about them,” she said simply, sitting down on a chair in front of him. “Unfortunately, it is the nature of people to judge others.”

Y/N hoped that she didn't betray the fact that she knew a lot more than she would have liked in this matter. Until now, she remembered how everyone had pointed fingers at her in her hometown right after the accident. Some were surprised that she was the only survivor, but glad that she had made it out of it. Others blamed her for everything, even if it wasn't her who drove the damned car, and the autopsy showed exactly that the driver was drunk, which she knew very well.

“So you like steaks?” She asked after a moment, and could almost hear the amused laughter of Apollo and Aphrodite if they saw her at that moment.

“Actually, no,” Steven confessed, and she raised an eyebrow. “'I'm a vegan. I don't even know why I planned a date to a steak restaurant,” he shook his head, glancing at her, laughing briefly. “In fact, I don't even remember how it came about that I was supposed to have a date.”

Y/N felt sorry, hearing all this. She had already had the impression in the library that Steven must have been suffering from insomnia, but what he was telling her now indicated that it wasn't his only problem. Probably, if she hadn't been herself, she would have almost immediately drawn attention to that red flag that was almost flying before her eyes, but it didn't even cross her mind that Steven could do her any harm. Evidently he was lost, broken and tired.

“In that case, I know the perfect place where they serve food for vegans” Y/N stood up from chair and gave him her hand. ”Come on, while they're still closed.”

Steven looked first at her, then at her outstretched hand, and then at her again. She thought that maybe this was a bad idea, and he was about to refuse her, but he grabbed her hand and rose from his seat. He reached for the flowers and box of chocolates, smiling at her.

“I'm taking you for the best vegan meal in the whole city,” Y/N joked, and they started along the street.

She didn't pay attention to how quickly time passed in Steven's company. She felt good talking and laughing together with him. For a brief moment, she felt as if she had detached herself from all that surrounded her and rested on her shoulders. She felt almost as carefree as she had that memorable evening before the accident. And it was hard for her to understand that for so many years she had never for a moment felt as calm and easy as she did now. Maybe she missed the real company of people, or someone to talk to other than the gods and her closest family.

After several minutes of walking, they stopped at a booth selling baked chips.

“Voilà!” She called out cheerfully, pointing at the stall with both hands. “I told you I'd take you out for the best vegan meal, and there's nothing better than fries.”

Steven laughed sincerely, and she had to congratulate herself that he somehow seemed much more relaxed than when she'd seen him. It was as if all the stress had come off him, and she was coming to the conclusion that maybe they were more alike than she might have thought. Moments later, they were both sitting on a bench near the booth, each eating chips.

“You know, the other day I went to the museum after work to see the exhibition, but I guess I wasn't so lucky, and I didn't find you” Y/N grabbed a chip between her fingers and then dipped it in garlic sauce. “Some bored man was telling me about Egypt, but I had the impression that he didn't want to be there himself.”

She popped the fry into her mouth and Steven snorted quietly.

“Oh, I had the day off then,” he explained, and she smiled at him. “'But tomorrow... Umm, I'm working tomorrow, so if you have time, I'd love to show you around.”

“In that case I will definitely come” she agreed without hesitation. “This time I'm the one with the day off tomorrow, so I just found myself entertained.”

For a while, neither of them spoke, and Y/N tried to enjoy this blissful moment as much as possible. She knew that as soon as she crossed the threshold of her flat, she would have to face reality again.

“Can I ask you a question?” Steven spoke up, breaking the silence between them. She murmured encouragingly and looked at him with interest. “Why did you approach me there in the restaurant? After all, we don't know each other.”

“I don't know, instinct, I guess,” she shrugged her shoulders. “It seemed to me that you needed someone's company.”

Steven didn't reply, going back to eating his portion of fries.

Y/N knew that sooner or later they would have to part and go back to their flats, but she still felt some kind of pain in her heart when they stood together at the bus stop in the middle of the night and talked while eating chocolates. Because of the way she talked and joked with the Greek gods more often, she had the feeling that she was no longer capable of normal discussions with humans, and yet she managed to convince herself that maybe things were different.

She laughed merrily at the story Steven was telling about a group of kids who almost trashed the museum, and then a bus arrived at the bus stop. Y/N checked the number and realised it was the one she herself was supposed to take.

“My limousine has arrived” she joked briefly, not hurrying to say goodbye. The bus had a few minutes stop anyway. “It was a wonderful evening, Steven.”

“Was it?

“Definitely” she reassured him, nodding her head. “I'll see you tomorrow, or maybe I should say tonight, because it's well after midnight.”

“Oh, that's right,” he laughed. He lifted the bouquet of flowers that he was still holding and then handed it to her. “I think it would be best if you take them.”

“Thank you” Y/N accepted the bouquet. “See you later, Steven.”

She kissed him quickly on the cheek, and before she realised what she had really done, she got on the bus and took one of the empty seats by the window. For a moment, she watched him with a smile as he gently waved at her. Y/N did the same, and then her gaze was drawn to a tall bandaged figure with a bird skull and a cane ending in a crescent moon that stood behind Steven. She blinked twice, but when she looked at the same spot again, the only person she saw was Steven.

Y/N knew, however, that she had definitely not imagined it. She had seen a lot of different things over the past few years, and seeing gods was no longer something new to her. The only thing she wondered was if she had actually been lucky enough to find who she was looking for and why it was that Steven Grant, probably the nicest person she had ever met, was the avatar of one of the gods.

☾☾☾

She spent the night staring dully at the images of the god Khonshu that she had found on the internet. She was completely sleep-deprived, but after breakfast and a cup of her favourite tea, she gathered herself and headed to the museum. She didn't know how much time she was going to spend there, but she had to study the whole situation carefully. She felt that this day could prove to be a particularly crucial one for her.

Y/N grabbed the straps from her backpack and then ran up the stairs and entered the museum. There were already quite a few people inside, despite the fact that the museum had just opened, and it was Monday. On the right side there was a station for the security guards, but the man sitting on the swivel chair was much more interested in his phone than in the visitors coming in. She shook her head, not believing what she was seeing. With such an attitude, she was not at all surprised that later she was the one who had to do the dirty work for everyone who did not know how to maintain safety properly.

She looked around for a gift shop, but before she could spot it, the first thing she saw was Steven. She moved towards him almost immediately, and as she was about to wave at him to get his attention, she noticed that there was an older man with longer hair and a shiny cane standing next to him, which he used to touch Steven's arm. Y/N squinted and didn't need to have a sixth sense to know that something wasn't right here.

“He's the one who wants to resurrect Ammit,” a male voice spoke up beside her, and she sent a hateful glance at Poseidon, who had materialised beside her.

“I told you not to just show up and scare me” she muttered quietly, looking away from the deity. “So, Steven is the avatar of Khonshu? Why doesn't he look like him to me at all?”

She looked to the side, but there was no one next to her any more. Y/N rolled her eyes and hurriedly moved towards Steven and the unfamiliar man.

Don't let yourself be seen through, Y/N. No one can know we're involved.

Poseidon's voice echoed in her head, but she didn't care that much. She knew there wasn't much she could do anyway, especially since she was in the middle of a museum with a whole crowd of people. She couldn't use any of the abilities the Olympians had given her, but she could still show courage and react.

“Hey!” she called out, drawing the attention of the three men. She pointed a finger at them, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw how Steven had managed to escape and probably hadn't even noticed her. Maybe, that was even better. “What's going on here?”

“Everything's under control, ma'am,” one of the men spoke up, and Y/N noticed that he was wearing a distinctive security jumper. “Please return to your sightseeing.”

“It seemed to me that security should be keeping order in the museum, not ignoring disturbing behaviour” she pointed out quickly. The second man standing next to her moved restlessly and clenched his fists, glancing fleetingly at the one who stood in the middle, wielding a cane.

“Girly, there's nothing unusual going on here,” the bodyguard said somewhat nervously, but quieted down when the man with the cane raised one hand, saying the name of the guard, and then looked at her.

“It’s astounding to see someone showing such concern towards a stranger” the man with the cane said finally, and Y/N had the impression that he was trying to scan her with his eyes and find out her innermost secrets. She was glad that her dolphin pendant, which was the most likely to indicate her connection with the Olympians, was under her blouse. “What's your name, child?”

For a moment she had the impression that she had overheard, but when she saw the quite serious look in the man's eyes, she decided that it was all very real.

“I'm not revealing my name to a randomly met Gandalf with a walking stick” she answered finally, and then she turned tense and turned into one of the corridors leading to another part of the exhibition.

Y/N bit her lower lip as she stopped at one of the paintings by some famous painter, but she did not look at it even once. She took a few breaths and then touched her pendant through the material of her blouse, just to be sure. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the familiar warmth and shape under her fingers.

Standing in the corridor and pretending to admire the painting, she had a strange feeling that this task might cost her much more than everything she had done before.

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x y/n #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x y/n #marvel #fanfic #oscar isaac #elliaze

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full-cowlings · 3 years ago

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Vibrator Torture - Adult! Izuku Midoriya x Reader SMUT

For legal purposes, the characters will be old enough that they graduated U.A and are now pro heroes.

NSFW Content ahead.

“You want me to use what!?” Y/N exclaimed, looking at her green haired lover.

“I want to use this on you in public…” Izuku explained shyly, holding up a small pink remote controlled vibrator.

“B-but why?!” She exclaimed again.

“Please, Y/N, just this once. If you don’t like it, we never has to do this again!” He pleaded, looking at her with ‘innocent’ eyes.

The girl sighed and nodded in defeat. “Fine… just this once!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He peppered her face in small, gentle kisses. His lover laughed softly, “our safe word will be ‘red light’, that way it’s like a traffic light.” He smiled.

“O-okay.” Y/N agreed, still slightly hesitant with this whole idea.

She took the toy from him, walking into the washroom to insert it into herself. She came out from the washroom to see Izuku already ready to leave.

They were going to a café to meet up with their old friends from school, Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki.

“Ready?” Izuku asked, “yeah, I am.” Y/N replied, slipping her shoes on.

Izuku nodded, taking the remote to the vibrator off the counter and slipped it into his pocket.

“Lets go then.” He smiled, offering her his hand.

She gladly took it and they walked out the door, locking it behind them and started walking in the direction of the café.

“I still can’t believe you let me do this.” Izuku chuckled in slight disbelief.

Y/N looked over at him and quickly kissed his cheek, “that’s because I love and trust you… and I’m willing to give it a try if you really want to.” She smiled softly. Izuku beamed an adorable flashy grin in reply.

They soon arrived at their destination, seeing their friends sitting inside already. They walked into the small café at the corner of the street, the smell of coffee and different small baked treats filled their noses as soon as they entered.

“Hey guys!” Izuku called out to the booth, sliding in with Y/N.

“L/N! Deku!” It feels like it’s been so long since we saw you last!” Uraraka exclaimed, looking at them with a bright smile.

“It has been a while has…” Y/N was mid sentence when she felt the vibrator turn on, starting to stimulate her clit.

“Hasn’t it?” She finished. The three of them looked at her, slightly confused but Izuku paid no attention to it.

The small talk went on for a while, the vibrator only on the first setting, before Todoroki turned to Y/N.

“So L/N, how has your agency been going? I heard you started one of your own, yes?” He asked.

Y/N nodded, “it’s been going fairly well! I’ve been told they are a few students interested in going to my agency for their own work agency!” She exclaimed, her eyes shining.

As her and Todoroki kept talking, Izuku slipped his hand back into his pocket, gripping the remote and turning it up a notch again.

Y/N started to shift in her seat, starting to feel more arousal and the need to release more than before now.

“Are you okay, L/N?” Iida asked her. She went to reply, but Izuku turned the toy up again to the max speed.

This caused her to let a small moan slip and she immediately closed her mouth, nodding to signal she was okay.

They all looked at her, confused and worried, while Izuku just smirked. To make matters worse, Izuku slowly started bring his fingers closer to her cunt, slowly rubbing her from outside her clothing.

Y/N started squirming again, luckily they were talking amongst themselves so they didn’t notice this time.

Y/N sent a glare towards Izuku, to which he just beamed seemingly innocently. Soon the others started talking to them again, it was becoming harder and harder for Y/N to stay still, so desperately wanting a release.

Suddenly, the teasing of Izuku's fingers and the vibrator got to much for her. “Red light! Red light!” She called up, standing up and grabbing Izuku’s hand.

Izuku smirked in victory as she finally broke, “sorry guys, I just got a text message from my agency, we have to go.” Izuku said calmly, knowing exactly what he was doing.

The others looked at them confused, however they nodded and they bid the couple farewell.

Y/N walked into the washroom, shutting the door and locking it. “Please Izuku, I need to release! Please let me!” She cried, clearly sexually frustrated.

“Okay, you’ve been a good girl, come here.” He said softly, picking her up and placing her on the counter of the sink.

Izuku stood in between her legs, kissing her passionately. Y/N whimpered against his lips, sloppily grinding against his thigh, trying to relief the sexual frustration she was in.

Izuku brought his one hand down to her clothed clit, rubbing it roughly, the other arm groping her breast.

Y/N moaned in ecstasy, feeling the knot starting to form in her stomach. “P-please, let me cum!” She moaned.

“Cum for me baby girl.” He whispered into her ear, biting and sucking on her neck and collarbone, leaving several dark hickeys.

That was enough to push her over the edge, she moaned loudly, clasping a hand over her mouth to try to quiet herself down as she rode out her orgasm.

Her vision doubled as she started to see stars as she came down from her high.

Her juices seeped through her underwear and down her thighs, the skirt she was wearing not concealing it at all.

“Good girl.” He whispered hastily. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can leave.” She nodded, her breath ragged and knees shaky from the intense orgasm.

Izuku turned the vibrator off, grabbing tissue and cleaning her thighs. “You were such a good girl for me, baby.” He smiled.

She only nodded in reply. Izuku helped her get off the counter and held her hand. “Lets go home.” She nodded again, heading towards the door.

Izuku stopped her before leaning into her ear, “then I can give you a better orgasm then that silly toy could ever.” He smirked, leaving her a blushing mess as he walked out the café washroom.

#izuku midoriya #izuku smut #bnha deku #deku x y/n #deku smut #deku x fem!reader #midoriya izuku #bnha izuku #Izuku #izuku x reader #izuku midoria x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha smut #my hero academia #mha #mha smut

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hobisfavoritespritecan · 3 years ago

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Coffee?

HENDERY X READER

The cute guy you met at a coffee shop offers to pay for your drink....and your attention.

The autumn breeze stung your face as you pulled your knit scarf closer to your mouth to trap in the warmth of your breath. The leaves made crunching noises as your feet collided with the ground, picking up the wet ones with the soles of your shoes as you walked. Your plaid knit skirt and black shirt weren't any combat against the cold, even with your beige trenchcoat wrapped around you like a blanket. Thankfully, the familiar aroma of your coffee shoppe filled your senses as you got closer and closer to the warmth inside of the building.

With a resounding bell from the top of the door, you made your entrance known with the gust of wind that came with it. Sighing in contempt as you noticed the shoppe was almost entirely empty, you made your way to the counter and removed the scarf from your face to give your order. Your best friend, Doyoung was working the night shift for today and he had complained about how bored he would be since no one would come in. He also complained about being too physically and emotionally exhausted the next day at classes.

"(Y/N)!" He said, placing his fingers on the counter and tapping them in a drumming motion against the slab surface, "What can I getcha?"

You smiled. "The usual."

You watched as he went to busy himself in the back, struggling to get the cups from the top shelf by the sinks. Of course you had ordered a cold drink in cold weather, just when they had put away all the summer cups.

Looking around, you noticed that the couple at the table in the back just made their exit out the front door of the shoppe; the bell ringing once more overhead. They walked towards the edge of the street and waited for the traffic to pass before walking off into the dark distance ahead. Turning back to the counter, you place a two dollar tip in the tip jar and busy yourself with organizing the complementary straws by color.

"What's wrong with the way they were before?"

A deep sounding voice came from behind and startled you slightly. The man who had entered extremely quietly was tall and thin with sharp, angular features that any model or movie star would kill for. He had box dye black hair and earrings that ran all the way up his ears and a nose ring to match. Clad in a black cashmere sweater and dark jeans, he was very beautiful and oh so very close to where you were standing.

"Oh! Uhm, well they seemed to be a bit out of order. The orange ones go in the back and the green in the front." Blushing, you occupy yourself with staring in any direction that he was not in.

He giggled. "Why's that?"

"Well no one would voluntarily go for the orange ones first." You said in retaliation to which he found the funniest statement ever. A couple awkward seconds pass and Doyoung returns with your iced caramel latte in one hand and a napkin in the other. Placing them down in front of you he checks the guy out behind you and you give him a knowing glance.

"Anything else?" He asked you as you fumbled around for your credit card. Suddenly, a hand stops you from behind and a card is handed over to Doyoung before you could seemingly blink.

"I'll get one of those too, please." The man says with a smirk as he pays for the both of your drinks.

"Why, thank you." You walk over to the nearest table and sit down while you watched Doyoung finish processing the stranger's card. Noticing you forgot a straw, you see the man grab two of them- two of the orange ones.

He sits down across from you and the light refracts off of the biggest earring on the right of his ear. His eyes find their way to yours as he smiles once more and hands you an orange straw.

"I figured that we could switch it up a bit and use the ugly straws." He states, holding his hands up in a fake surrender.

You were completely hooked on his persona now, and you knew that all attempt at forgetting him would be futile. He was just too goddamn pretty and too goddamn charismatic.

"I guess I'll let it slide since you did pay for my coffee." You said teasingly, as you worked on removing your hair from the braid it was pulled back in. Your bracelets jangled as your arms moved up to touch the delicately woven hair atop your head and you shook it out back to its full and natural state.

"Garnier?" He asks, stabbing the whipped topping with the straw and taking a long gulp of the gooey coffee tasting goodness. For a split second, you caught a flash of silver on his tongue before his mouth clamped down around the plastic.

"Garnier?" You asked, wondering what he could be referring to.

He smiled once more. "Your hair dye. It's a similar black to mine."

Damn, this boy was good. You nodded and let out a breathy laugh as you remembered the green box you'd picked out last week. The dye was the best for making sure the college dorm bathroom wasn't disgusting by the time you were done. Ryujin would have your head if she saw the caulking of the tiles stained black.

"Yes, it is," you said, watching the drinks disappear between the two of you, "How did you know that?"

He put down his cup and let out a soft exhale as he clapped his hands together in a cute way, watching you from across the table. "So glad you asked! I'm a hairdresser!"

"A hairdresser?" You asked with a blush starting to creep up onto your cheeks. That was cute. The thought of this stranger being paid to run his hands through your hair made your stomach ignite with butterflies.

"Yes!" He said, taking another sip of his coffee. It was just then that you asked him for his name, remembering that you didn't get one upon his first entrance.

"Hendery," He said with a mouth full of cream, "but you can just call me H."

"H? Why H?" You asked.

"Because it sounds edgier that way." He leans back in his booth and puts his arms up against the padding of the seat, trying to look cool and ridiculous at the same time. It looked much more like the latter to you, though.

"You're kidding?"

"Oh, 100%. That would be stupid."

His teeth flashed in your direction once more and you saw the tongue piercing that had been hidden from view. "What's your name?" He asks with a kind tone. He seemed to stop the entire world and focused solely on you. Time seemed to have stopped.

"(Y/N)." You said, intently gazing at his eyes.

"(Y/N)." He repeated, taking your name in like the drag of a cigarette. The word seemed to rest on his tongue like the piercing and then swallow down into the very fiber of his being. It was like a fish on a hook and damn, did he fall for you hook, line, and sinker.

The shared laughter between the two of you filled the entirety of the coffee Shoppe, and Doyoung eventually joined the both of you. He had whipped himself up a hot cocoa and you eyed the amount of whipped cream he had put on the top; sprinkles starting to melt into odd colors and the drink running down the sides of the cup onto the saucer. He totally had a whipped cream mustache above his upper lip and to say that he was enjoying the drink would be an understatement.

Eventually, Hendery had ordered one too and the secret came out that he really didn't like coffee, he had just come in to escape the cold and decided to stay for you. It was sweet and romantic and your heart filled with excitement as adrenaline coursed through your veins. This stranger was so enticing, yet so familiar. He couldn't have been a stranger anymore, however, he had introduced himself.

"Allow me to walk you home?" He motioned for the door as you threw away your cups. You looked back towards Doyoung and saw him motioning a blowjob with his hand in the air. Flipping him off silently, you agree and follow Hendery into the cold night air. It hasn't gotten any warmer, much to your dismay. The skirt seemed entirely ridiculous now as you grasped to hold onto any warmth.

"Hey, Hendery?" You asked, stopping along the sidewalk and looking up at the tall dark haired man. He smiled down on you with his teeth in a dorky manner and pushed away the hair from his eyes.

"Ye-es?" He said, glancing up at the streetlight that shone overhead. It was like a spotlight at a theatre and you were Romeo and Juliet. Just without the death and stuff.

"I-I think I'd like to do this again sometime." You said, reaching for his hand. Taking it from you, he spins you around and you turn in surprise, falling into his chest upon doing a 360.

"I'd like that too." His warm and minty breath fanned over your face and you knew you were done for.

"May I kiss you?"

"Why certainly."

With his lips against yours, you finally understood what people meant when they said they felt fireworks go off in their brains. It was safe and happy between the two of you as you leaned into each other, taking in one another's company. This whole scene was like something out of a movie and you thought back to the time you convinced yourself it wouldn't be possible for love at first sight.

Pulling away, Hendery rested his head against yours. "You taste like coffee." He says, leaning in for another kiss.

"I thought you said you didn't care for coffee?" You asked.

"I very much care for it now."

#nct fanfic #nct scenarios #hendery #wayv hendery #nct hendery #nct x y/n #nct x reader #wayv scenarios #wayv #wayv fanfic #wayv x reader #wayv x y/n #kpop imagines #kpop #hobisfavoritespritecan

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ask-dametagala · 2 years ago

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Infiltrating the castle!

▪︎Prologue:

▪︎Chapter 1: Stay in line!

At the grand entrance of the castle, a waddle dee wearing a blue bandana and fluffy coat stands guard, holding a tall spear wrapped with a red ribbon. Every year, King Dedede would always throw huge extravagant parties and carelessly invite anybody in to flaunt his grandeur. Because of this, Bandana Dee had to make sure security was top notch! No one suspicious was allowed in, no matter what they did. It was important that this Necromas party went on smoothly with no troubles. However, there were guests coming from all corners of the galaxy this time, meaning that there's a lot more traffic than usual. The waddle dees worry that the castle may not have enough space for everyone…

"Bandana Dee! Bandana Dee!"

"Kirby! You came!"

Kirby came running up to Bandana among the sea of people, waiting to be checked in. Shouts erupt among the crowd, yelling at Kirby for skipping the line. Bandana quickly shushes them and notifying the crowd that Kirby had special access. Those in Dedede's special access list were allowed to head straight in without going through security.

"Thank goodness, I thought you weren't going to come! Most of the others already went in hours ago."

"Sorry Dee, I was looking for Gooey! But I couldn't find them..."

Kirby turned around to look at the extremely long line of guests.

"Bleh, who are all these people?"

"They're travelers from many different stars, Kirby….and I don't know if I can deal with all of them…..there's just so many!"

"Gee, King Dedede must be real popular!"

"Y-yeah…that must be it! His majesty has galaxy wide fame!"

"Hmph, I couldn't care less for your king. Mortals!"

"Who's there?!?" Banana Dee immediately points his spear towards the direction of the noise. Kirby notices and also takes guard. They both looked up to see a cloaked stranger with bandages wearing luxurious pearls and jewels, swirling a wine glass as she looked down on the two.

"I am the QUEEN of Cappy town, conqueror and overlord of many realms! You shall call me….THE NECROMANCER!!"

"Cappy Town? GASP!! Isn't that Chef Kawasaki's home town?!"

"I do not know of the Kawasaki you speak of, pink puffball."

"Bandana Dee! You should let this mysterious lady in!"

"KIRBY THIS IS LITERALLY THE MOST SUSPICIOUS PERSON I'VE SEEN UP TO THIS POINT."

"How rude! You dare speak to royalty with such an unrefined tongue?! Ohohohoh! I oughta report this to your KING!"

Hearing his king being mentioned so casually, Bandana's brow twitched.

"Miss. I would appreciate it if you went back to the line like everybody else."

"What?! I have to wait in line?! BUT I'M A QUEEN!"

"Do you have any proof of that, miss?"

"Shouldn't my super swaggers crown be proof enough?"

"That's a skull with a missing jaw, missy…."

"So?"

Bandana scowls and gives warning jabs his spear at the suspicious woman, clearly not showing any signs of letting her in. Not until she waits back at the line.

"Fine, fine! I have enough time. Consider your life spared, mortal!"

The Necromancer begrudgingly flies off to her old spot, which was being reserved by a light green astral with blue eyes, wearing a veiny dark cloak. His antennae twitched as he tilted his head, noticing the return of The Necromancer.

"how did it go?"

"Awful! They didn't believe me!"

"did you show them your super swaggers crown?"

"YES! I even held my glass much more fashionable than usual! The way scheming kings would do! I even used the rich people laugh and flaunted my jewelry shamelessly!"

"aw dang i totally thought that would work. guess we're playing the waiting game…..the buffet better be good.

hey, speaking of which, why did you want to come here in the first place?"

"Because, Limos, the legendary hero will be there. The greatest warrior in all of the galaxy! AND I WILL BIND HIM TO MY UNDEAD CONTRACT, MAKING HIM MY SLAVE!!! MUUUUAAAHAHAHAHA-"

The entire line freezes and turns towards the two, glaring at them with murderous intent. The mood immediately changed, bloodthirst was present in the air. Everyone looked like they were about to pounce at Necromancer at any second if she didn't explain herself. Until….

"excuse my niece, she's just an angsty teenager desperate for attention."

Instantly, the soon-to-be angry mob calmed down and the atmosphere reverted back to what it originally was. Casual whispers and mumbles emitted from the line, seemingly to be in agreement to what Limos said.

"Limos. I hate you…SO much."

Meanwhile, at the entrance, Kirby's still standing beside Bandana, wanting to keep him company until all of the guests are checked in.

"Don't you want to go in and eat first? Standing out here in the cold won't be fun you know…"

"It's okay! I have this warm hat! And Taranza knitted these fluffy mittens for my little nubs. Besides, I wanna party with you! It won't be fun if you're stuck out here…"

"Kirby…."

"Now this is just BEAUTIFUL! *sniff* I'm truly heart touched by yer display of kinship, I truly am! Brings a tear to my eye!"

Out of nowhere, an individual wearing a large cowboy hat with a leather jacket shows up. They wipe off a solitary tear off their cheek, looking at Kirby and Bandana Dee with shining orange eyes. Immediately, the two assume a defensive stance again.

"Hey! What are you doing here??"

"Who are you?! Your hat looks really funny!"

"Oh come on lil' peach, I ain't no stranger. Don't ya remember Benny?"

"I don't KNOW you!"

"Hey hey wait, Is yer name Sailor?"

"Sailor? No…everyone calls me Bandana….you know Sailor?"

"Oh 'scuse myself! Yer ain't Sailor! It's hard to tell you peaches apart! Let me do introductions then! The name's Eggs, Eggs Benedict! I got one of yer special passes to this party. Mind if I let myself in?"

"Oh! S-sure! Eggs Benedict! Your name was on the list….sorry…I thought you were a bandit looking to steal the King's stuff…that happens a lot."

"No sonny, you guessed right. I AM a bandit, but I ain't interested in stealin' tonight. It's Necromas!! Gotta celebrate the birth of…..the birth of….."

"NECRODEUS!!!"

Someone shouted at the back of the line.

"RIGHT! Whoever that is!! ✨️"

"Mister Eggs Benedict....."

"Just call me Ben, peach."

"Right, mister Ben! You may go in!"

"Enjoy the party! And your name sounds delicious!"

"That I am told, my pink friend. That I am told."

The mysterious bandit was about to step inside, but suddenly stopped and turned around.

"Hey, by chance, didja anyone by the name of "Lundi" check in?"

"Hmmm…let me think…..yeah, someone called the "Lundi Swordsman" did go in an hour earlier!"

"Thanks peach! I'll be on my way then!"

"I would appreciate it if you stop calling me that too!- aand he's gone."

"Heheh, your name sounds delicious too!"

"Kirby….."

"Hey, Bandana! Why do you think that eggs guy was on the list? He doesn't look like he'd be friends with Dedede…."

"Well, he even added friends of Meta Knight on the list and Ben did mention Sailor! I wonder what kind of relationship they have?"

"Oaaa…."

"Bandana!!!" A waddle dee holding a spear quickly rushes towards him, panting heavily.

"Hm? What is it?"

"We're….*huff*....out of room….*huff*"

"Well I guess we should tell these people the bad news….."

"But what if a riot breaks out?! Everybody here went through so many troubles just to see his majesty!"

"I'm not sure if they're actually here for our king….."

"What was that?"

"Nothing! Nothing! We prepared for this, Spear Dee number 12345….if they dare attack us, we will fight back!"

"Yes sir!"

Seeing how much his friend had changed ever since he was a normal waddle dee, Kirby's eyes light up.

"Wow, you've really become a great leader, Bandee!"

"Oh stop it Kirby…I'm not that good." Bandana bashfully looks away and scratches his head. Despite his improvement, he still seems so insecure.

"But you are! Hehehe!" He grabs ahold of Bandana's hand and gives him a warm hug, nuzzling in the waddle dee's fluffy coat.

"Yeah...you're right Kirby! I should be proud of myself for once!"

"Yeah!!"

Just as they were getting comfortable, loud complaints erupt from the crowd.

"Oh come on! You can't kick us out like this!!"

"I had to steal my dad's spaceship to get here!!"

"I WANNA SEE GALACTA KNIGHT!!!! WAAAAAAAA!!"

After staying in line for so long just to be denied entry, the people went out of control, the situation was severely dangerous. They threw rocks, dirt, anything they could find at the waddle dees. The much tamer travellers left, but their numbers weren't many.

"I should…really deal with this.."

"Sheesh, tough crowd! Bandana Dee, I think you're gonna need my help!"

"Me too…let's go, Kirby!"

"Mm!"

Bandana readies his spear as Kirby playfully jabs at the air, the both give each other a nod before charging straight into the angry mob.

[Extra]

[Next]

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x-infernhoes-x · 3 years ago

Text

She’s My Collar- Basilio x Reader

Title: She’s My Collar

Genre: Romance, Smut, Porn with Plot

Warning(s): Mentions of Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Implied Consent, Basilio nearly murdering someone because they spoke badly about you

Description: KAI IF YOU’RE READING THIS, THIS ONE’S FOR YOU AND ALL OF YOU BASILIO SIMPS

NOTE SOMETIME AROUND 3:00 AM YESTERDAY NAWALA YUNG ORIGINAL PUTANG INA I WAS THIS CLOSE ON FINISHING IT SHDJGFHJBDKJBSEDVGSJHGBKHGSFKJBGBKJGBJGLJBGWL AN HOUR’S WORTH OF WRITING G O N E AND I HAD TO REWRITE EVERYTHING I AM STRESSED AND DSBJKGBKJFSDGNB SO ENJOY.

4:31 AM NOTE UPDATE YESTERDAY: langya ayoko na. matutulog na nga ako, sakit na ng likod ko.

6:50 PM NOTE TODAY: I’M GOING TO FINISH THIS BEFORE MIDNIGHT COMES. ALSO, DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS!!

12:10 AM NOTE TODAY: The note above this one is a lie. I managed to continue this after family night lmao but enjoy still. Tried my best to make it gender-neutral as possible but yeah :’) I kinda failed successfully I think???

You and Basilio have been dating for quite some time now. Although he was a messy guy you made sure that you had his back and helped him out to work on how to keep his sloppy tendencies at bay and in turn he would shower you with love and affection that you would usually get from the demi-god of war. Basilio was the perfect guy, he was a sweet lad who made your lonely days better, he made sure that you were cared for in any shape or form and he always had your back in everything and he would give you anything you would ask for in the world. The two of you barely even fought and if you were to fight, it would be more of a joke one than an all-out screaming match. He was the best thing that has ever happened to you and you constantly thank Bathala for it and Basilio thought the same. The two of you were a match made in heaven.

Although despite your busy schedules keeping the two of you apart, you both made sure that you and your loving boyfriend would get the chance to hang out together. Often, you and Basilio would frequent the Diabolical together, just basking in each other's presence, tucked away in some booth Hank had reserved for the two of you, or sitting by the bar just chatting about each other’s day. You could recall Hank telling you that whenever you were around or that when someone ever mentions your name, Basilio seemed to calm down and would eagerly listen into whatever conversation had said your name. There was a time where Basilio nearly knocked someone’s teeth out because they were talking badly of you and it took Crispin, Maliksi, Hannah, Amie, Alex, and Hank himself to hold back the younger twin and prevent him from punching someone’s lights or teeth out or even prevent a murder from ever happening.

“Alam mo, (Y/N) pag naririnig ni Basilio na dadaan ka rito, parang siyang aso na di mapakali. Kulang nalang na magkaroon siya ng buntot e.” Hank joked as he was cleaning the freshly washed glass, watching Basilio flush red, face buried into his forearm as he groaned in response while you let out a small chuckle.

Now looking back, that memory seemed to be far away from you. Tonight happened to be your anniversary with Basilio and instead of a cozy night in, he wanted to do something different. Basilio wanted to take you out dancing and bar hopping around Bonifacio Global City’s luxurious bars (sometimes you wondered to yourself how the hell can Basilio afford this.) and maybe take you sight seeing around the place when you got the time. Pacing around your living room in your apartment, you were about to shoot him a text message when a knock at your door had interrupted you from doing so, nearly dropping your phone in the process. “Sandali lang!” you yelled to whoever was outside the door. If there was one thing you learned from dating Basilio, it was being vigilant. You had to make sure that the person on the other side of your door was your boyfriend and not some kind of Aswang or any malicious person who had a personal grudge against the twins and Alex. Taking a peek at the pee hole your door had, you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend, Basilio grinning up at you as he waved. Instead of wearing his suit, Basilio was in his casual clothing for tonight, his long silken locks pulled back in a half-up, half-down man-bun.

Opening the door, you then welcomed him with open arms before proceeding to smack him playfully on his arm, an amused smirk on your lips as you opened your mouth to speak, your tone light and teasing, “Took you long enough! Siguro na-traffic ka no?” Basilio could only roll his dark eyes at you as he placed a loving kiss upon your head. “Hindi a, si Kuya Crispin kasi e, sobrang tagal niya sa banyo kaya ayun.” Pulling himself away from you, he then offered his arm for you to take with a grin, his head tilting towards the direction of the door as he spoke, “So ano? Tara na?” “Siyempre naman.”

After making sure your apartment was locked, the two of you went down towards the direction of the parking lot and took a couple few selfies inside the elevator, you and Basilio were off. While in the car, the both of you would scream along to the lyrics of Ang Huling El Bimbo by Eraserheads while in traffic. On your way to BGC, both of you were surprised to see Maliksi and his significant by the stoplight, taking the advantage of the long-ass stop to chat with the Prince of the Tikbalangs and his fiancé. Your conversation was cut short when the stoplight had changed from red to green, saying your goodbyes to each other as Basilio drove away to your very first destination, which was none other than XYLO at The Palace.

In all honesty, you’ve heard about this bar but it was the first time you got to enter the place itself. The both of you got lucky that the place wasn’t as packed and that you got there early before the actual party had started. Both you and Basilio then made your way over to the bar to grab your first drinks of the night. The two of you chatted for a while, occasionally nodding your heads to the beat of the song. After a while, the night seemed to kick in and both of you were already at what seemed to be your 3rd or 4th bar of the night, this time you and Basilio were jumping up and down to DJ Khalid’s song ‘All I Do Is Win’ before the both of you screamed along with the rest of the patrons, “Putang Ina, Alak Pa!” and time seemed to flow faster than ever as you and your loving boyfriend went in and about around BGC’s classiest bars, downing every single drink you two could manage and take or even dance along to the songs the bars provided while occasionally sharing a kiss here and there, not minding the reek of alcohol and sweat clinging on each other’s bodies as the two of you laughed.

Sometime around 10:30, you and Basilio were shitfaced to oblivion but both of you were used to it. You had lost count on how many drinks you’ve managed to down yet you and Basilio couldn’t care less, you were certain that you heard your phones ring but you two never got the chance to answer them because Basilio was busy doing body shots on you or you making out with your boyfriend in some hidden corner of the bar. You were starting to get the hint that after your little make-out session at Club Haze, he was focused on one thing and you knew what that meant, despite being inebriated out of your wits. So what do you do? Put on a show for him of course.

You knew Basilio was sitting by the bar because you told him you were going to use the bathroom to freshen up a little bit since the club felt a little bit humid. What he didn’t expect was you sashaying over to where the dance floor, the last notes of Nelly Furtado’s Maneater fading away only to be replaced by Doja Cat’s Streets. To you, the sound seemed to have slowed down and you weren’t sure because it was the alcohol’s effects taking over, nobody else in the club mattered but your boyfriend alone. The figures around you seemed to blur and Basilio was the only one you had your eyes on as your body moved to the beat, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted, and even from afar, you could see your demi-god of a boyfriend shuffle in his seat, his cheeks brightly flushed even under the lights of the dark club (yes, Basilio even tried to hide his raging boner from everyone but he was failing miserably). You knew that he was watching you closely like a predator ready to strike and even from afar you can tell that he was getting impatient with your games and that made you smirk. You knew that Basilio had a thing for Semi-Public sex and your several other experiences with him were proof of that, hell the two of you almost got caught one time and you were internally thankful that you weren’t. But tonight, Basilio’s going to abide by the rules of your own game and not his.

The opening bass beat from Beyonce’s Yonce/Partition was your cue to take things up a notch by making your way over to the bar where you had stood upon the counter (you had asked the bartender and the rest of the patrons who hung around the bar save for Basilio in advance and they seemed to agree with it just as long as you were careful) and made your way down the counter, hips sashaying and your body with every beat and drop before stopping to where he was, a smirk on your face, your hands running up from your thighs and right past your chest in a sensual manner, leaning in just so you could ghost your lips over Basilio’s eagerly waiting ones before pulling away with a wink. Once your little show was done and you had gone down from your counter with the help of the bartender you had just spoken to before making your way over to the dance floor once more to dance just as your song, She’s My Collar by Gorillaz began to play only to be caught short when you felt a hand grab you by the wrist.

Despite being drunk you were still smart and quick to retaliate towards whoever had grabbed you only to be surprised to be looking right directly at your boyfriend’s dark obsidian gaze, his breath slow and ragged and you knew you were in it for real this time the moment he said, “We’re leaving.” In a tone, you’ve never heard from him before and that seemed to send shivers and chills up your spine as he dragged you away from the bar to head right outside.

Honestly, the whole trip back to the car seemed to pass you by like a blur, you would occasionally stumble on your own feet, which prompted Basilio to sling you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a sack of potatoes (at least it gave you a perfect view of his ass). The moment you arrived at your car, however, you were thrown haphazardly into the backseat after Basilio had unlocked the door with ease and then entered the vehicle as well, quickly pulling you up on his lap where he locked his lips with you in a heated kiss, hands roaming around your body with such need and you could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his dark jeans. You were surprised at first but once the initial shock and surprise had worn off, you kissed him back as well with the same passion and need that he emulated from his kiss, your fingers and hands made a quick undo of his man-bun and top, hastily unbuttoning them, eager to touch the skin underneath it and leave marks on it. Basilio could only groan in response to your touches, his tongue exploring your mouth like uncharted territory, his hands groping your behind with such force that made you moan out his name, a quiet hiss of “Tangina.” Soon followed your surprise.

In your mayhem of desire and lust, you didn’t notice Basilio play Chase Atlantic’s song Devilish on the radio.

Clothes were thrown around and about in the space of the car and in that blur of clothing being discarded around, you were honestly surprised when Basilio had lifted up your lower half towards him, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach and thighs before his head disappeared in between your legs, bestowing you the best oral you’ve ever had received from him in your years of dating. You couldn’t thrash around with him holding you so tightly against his face as he went down on you but your hands were free to roam and tug at his long silken locks, his name spoken like a prayer and just as you were about to reach your peak, he had pulled away from you, a sadistic yet innocent smirk placed upon his now glistening chin and lips coated in your slick as he spoke, “Not yet, babe.” Winking at you, he gingerly set you down before he leaned over to where his now discarded jeans were as he pulled out his wallet, fishing out a condom and a small pack of lube for him to use. Once the foil was open and the rubber was on his already hard dick, he then proceeded to open the pack of lube, rubbing it on his length before instructing you to get on your hands and your ass up for him.

And by Bathala you began to see stars the moment he had entered you. Your nails seemed to dig on the dark leather surface of the car’s upholstery, your back arched to the extreme and you were certain that you could feel Basilio trailing kisses along the expanse of your neck, shoulders, and back, his hands guiding you on his length while yours snaked around to reach for him, tilting your head sidewards to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, his manhood still relentless at fucking you senseless and in between the thrusts and moans, you were thankful that the windows were tinted from the outside or else the two of you would’ve been caught. Throughout the whole night, you two spent it by doing it on every single surface inside the car, doing every single position the two of you could think of, taking each other to new heights with every pose the two of you did, and yes, let’s just say you were sore the morning after that.

Once the morning came around, the two of you were still naked and you were sure that after your last round with your loving boyfriend, you felt the waves of your hang-over wash over you like a wave, making you groan out in pain. Everything was sore with you and your body was littered with hickies, bruises, and scratch marks while Basilio, who had his healing factor with him thanks to his demi-god status, was relatively unscathed but he did have some hickies of his own to present to the world. Shuffling, you gently nudged Basilio awake as you spoke, “Babe, anong oras na??”

At your action, your boyfriend, still groggy from sleep, could only groan at this, his hand reaching out to search for his mobile phone to check the time. Squinting, he then saw the time on his phone but the color on his face seemed to drain the moment he saw several missed calls and messages from his twin brother and the Babaylan-Mandirigma herself. “SHIT!” Basilio managed to cry out of sheer panic, his head accidentally hitting against the roof of the car, making him hiss even more, hands holding the spot where he had hit his head. “Lagot tayo kay Bossing, (Y/N), kagabi pa niya tayo tinatwagan kasama ni Kuya Crispin.” At the mere mention of Alex and Crispin’s name, you seemed to understand the sense of urgency before the two of you began to clean up the car, dressing up as you did so, attempting to make yourselves look more presentable and cover the tracks from yesterday’s events. Once done, Basilio was driving like a speeding madman in a rush to head back where his brother and Alex were at.

It took him at least an hour to arrive at their destination with Alex taking the role as today’s designated driver while Basilio sat in the back with his brother. “San ba kayo galing? Kagabi pa namin kayo tinatawagan ni Crispin, (Y/N), Basilio. Ano ba nangyare, ha?” Alex spoke, her eyes flickering over to where Basilio was, sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he spoke, “Sensya na ho, Bossing. Nag-sight seeing kasi kami ni (Y/N) kagabi tas nag-bar hoping kami tas pagkatapos nakatulog kami dito sa kotse.” A little doubtful of this, Alex could only glance at you from the corner of her eye, expecting for you to react but you held your emotions close to your heart as you spoke, “Totoo po yung sinasabi ni Basilio, bossing. Di po naming sadya na di kayo replyan ni Crispin. Di na po mauulit.” Nodding, Alex then excused the both of you and the car ride was silent, save for the fact that the radio was playing Last Friday Night by Katy Perry. You did feel a little bit cold however and you couldn’t help the fact that something was missing until Crispin screamed out in surprise, horror, and disgust, finally noticing the thing you were missing. Ah shit. “TANGINA BASILIO, ANO TO!?!?!” Crispin managed to yell out, holding up your lace underwear for everyone in the car to see with Basilio quickly snatching the piece of clothing away from his brother, tucking it in his pocket before he responded, “ANONG-ANO KA DIYAN KUYA!?! WALA KANG NAKITA!!”

You silently prayed to Bathala for him to forgive you but you were sure as hell Alex won’t. You made a mental note to not ever do it in the car you guys use for missions ever again.

#trese #trese netflix #trese x reader #trese fanfic #basilio #basilio x reader #basilio trese #alexandra trese #crispin #crispin trese #maliksi trese #maliksi #smut #AWIT I CANT BELIEVE I'VE MANAGED TO FINISH THIS UP AT 3:24 AM #SAKIT NG LIKOD KO #GOOD LUCK TO YOU BASILIO SIMPS

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capricorn-stark · 3 years ago

Text

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read!

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of.

Ever.

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave.

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets.

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you.

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you.

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.”

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere.

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.”

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?”

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.”

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.”

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.”

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand.

“And what about it?”

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama.

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.”

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts.

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.”

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?”

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching.

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little.

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.”

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps.

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea.

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you.

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.”

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually.

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing.

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung.

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branded-witha-j · 4 years ago

Text

This request started one way and then took a whole other turn that I'm going to blame on the pain meds they gave me. I hope you enjoy it, anon reader. 😘💚💚💚

♤♡◇♧☆

Something went horribly wrong. It wasn't expected and no one saw it coming despite weeks of planning. The coppers showed up as expected, but something fell through when someone didn't do their job. A post that should have been manned was left wide open and that's how the GCPD got the upperhand.

You were there, holding your own, the armored truck on its side and smoking. The bags you helped carry were heavy and you were distracted, not noticing the officer until he had you restrained. They didn't make a fuss, pulling you away from the scene as discreetly as possible, but it didn't take J long to notice your absence.

He wheeled in place, scanning the street, and that's when he saw them dragging you away, his rage palpable. They thought you were a hostage, surely a nice, rich girl like you forced to commit such heinous crimes. They had no idea that you were important to The Joker or that you were madly in love with your so-called captor.

You fought and clawed to get back to him, but the cops threw you into a police van, the back empty except for you. Now that they had you in their custody, they intended to get you away from the scene, your father waiting for the phone call that you were safe.

You were a Daddy's girl, growing up privileged and rich. Things were planned out for you, your father the puppeteer. It didn't take long for you to tire of his control, a new Daddy altogether pulling your attention and keeping you captivated.

The Joker was just as rich, but dangerous and unpredictable. The night you met him at the annual Gotham Gala was the best of your life and you never looked back.

The van shifted as it pulled away from the curb, a single police car following while the others stayed behind to deal with and round up J and his crew. At least that was their plan. But the cops would fair no better, The Joker's men creating such a scene that J managed to slip away in your pursuit.

He wasn't alone, a handful of goons tagging along, and they were the ones to open fire. The tailing cruiser caught the first wave of bullets, the back tires popping and sending it into an uncontrollable spin. A row of parked cars cushioned the wreck, but the car was inoperable and left behind as the van tried to race for the station.

You were in the back, unable to hang on as a curve was taken too fast, crying out as you were thrown against the bare, metal wall. You found yourself on the floor, clutching for the bench leg that was bolted down, using it to pull yourself under for coverage as bullets ricocheted outside. You could hear shouting from the front, returning fire sounding close and making you scream as a bullet tore through the metal above you.

You rolled yourself into a ball and braced, not seeing the collision coming, but safe as the van slammed to a stop. It was no longer moving, but the shouting continued, eventually two single gun shots marking the silence.

Nothing happened, the van whining as someone cranked the engine and finally got it to start. You stayed under the bench shaking, beams of light shining through the bullet holes as the van started to move again. Even as the ride continued on for what felt like an eternity, you stayed on the floor unable to move out of some fear that The Joker had been hurt, or even worse, killed.

Eventually the van came to a stop and you held your breath, hearing the front door open, and approaching footsteps. They crunched in what sounded like gravel and stopped at the back doors. Then there was unnerving silence. You continued to hold your breath, eyes closing as the screech of metal unlocked the doors and light flooded over you. It took you a moment to open your eyes, the sunlight blotting out the figure that peered inside. You blinked, trying to clear your vision, and a hand at your ankle made you lash out. You kicked hard, snarling in anger as they avoided your booted defense and dragged you closer.

Hands groped at you, pulling you upright, and that's when you were finally able to focus. The Joker leaned over you, a gash at his forehead sending a steady stream of blood down the side of his chiseled cheek. He was bleeding, but seemed unharmed and very much alive. With a gasp, you clutched for him, anchoring your hands at his face and kissing him hard.

His metal teeth hurt against your own, but you didn't care, deepening it until you felt certain you could drown. He was the one to break the kiss, eyes darting and taking inventory. You were unharmed, maybe a little bruised, but not hurt. The relief made him purr and he pushed forward, kneeling at the metal floor and hovering over you.

You let him lay you back and didn't protest as his hands slid over your body, making sure you weren't damaged or in pain. As his exploration continued, you reached for him, pulling him on top of you, your arms and legs trapping him. He grimaced, a single droplet of blood falling on your cheek, and you couldn't stop yourself from kissing him. He tasted like blood and gunpowder and you savored it.

In the distance, you could hear approaching sirens, your moment ending almost as quickly as it had started. Surely the van could be tracked and they would be here soon, both of your hearts racing as you fled the scene. You took back alleyways, hiding in the shadows, ducking into dark doorways as police cruisers rolled past.

It was in one of these doors that J cornered you, smiling in his mischievous way. You smiled back, head tilting as he leaned in for a kiss. It was slow and deep, ending with a purr.

"Are you my girl?" You nodded to his question, feeling his hands on you, fingertips digging into your hips. You let out a gasp of surprise as he slid a hand over, cupping you and pushing you harder against the door. It creaked with your weight but held as J frantically pulled at the waistband of your leggings. You joined in, flipping his belt loose, and popping the button to pull down his zipper.

A single slam against the door made you both groan, The Joker not stopping until he was buried deep. He burned and stretched you in the most delicious way, his face burying at your neck. Another thrust of his hips made you cry out, the sound echoing around the alley and building as his movement grew frantic.

Voices yelled out nearby, causing you to tense, and a shift of your hips sent you over a dangerous edge. Your cries of pleasure bounced off the walls, dissolving into the air and mixing with the sounds of the city. The Joker had reached his end, as well, and held you in place, nuzzling at your neck until he left a purple mark with his mouth.

For a long moment, nothing else existed, the sounds of the city fading away. You relished in his touch and taste, his crimson smeared lips leaving no doubt that you belonged to him. It was a bubble of happiness that you lived in precariously, not ready for it to pop so soon.

But pop it did, and you were both on the run again, dragging your pants up with laughs and tripping away. The cop that discovered you was close, but not enough to catch you, both of you sliding out onto the crowded sidewalk, people rushing out of your way as you ran.

You felt like Bonnie and The Joker was your Clyde, hands joining as you ran, more fits of laughter falling from your lips as you veered off the sidewalk and into traffic to avoid another cop.

You didn't see it coming, so lost in your delirious happiness that the delivery truck went unnoticed. Brakes squealed as the large vehicle tried to stop, but too much weight and speed kept it coming in your direction, both of you freezing on the spot.

There was a second where you realized you were about to die, turning towards J, but feeling yourself lifted and flung in the opposite direction. You waited for the pain, but it didn't come, instead air whipping past and making your hair swirl. And then your ride was abruptly over, Batman releasing you on the far sidewalk.

Stunned to see him this close up, it took a moment for you to wheel back in search of The Joker, horror making you cry out at his still form on the road. You pulled and screamed, tearing yourself away from your savior to run to your lover.

No one tried to stop you, everyone frozen and watching as you collapsed by his side, hands shaking and touching him. You were frantic, pulling at him, screaming his name, but getting no response. He was gone, his body broken and bleeding before you like a living nightmare.

You tried to revive him, performing CPR, pushing and thumping at his chest until Batman pulled you away. His arms locked around you like a vice and carried you from the horrible scene, your pleas falling on deaf ears.

Your eyes pinched shut, your cries turning into begging, everything fading until you jolted awake in a cell you couldn't remember. The pressure around you that had once been Batman's arms was a straitjacket keeping you secure. It was an embrace you could never escape, eyes heavy and sweeping the empty, dim room.

Who knows how long you had been here, time meaning nothing. Who knows if anything was real, the pain in your heart the only reminder that something had been taken from you.

The ground vibrated but you barely noticed it, the extinguished lights above you swaying and sending dust down upon you. Your neck was stiff as you slowly looked up, the hanging light swaying back and forth. Another much harder vibration caused it to pick up momentum and you were mesmerized by it, not hearing the screams in the hallway.

A fresh explosion buckled the door, leaving a gaping hole filled with smoke. You stared at it, unable to move even if you felt the desire, a single figure stepping through as a floating silhouette. They crossed the room, kneeling before you, and a tug at the helmet they wore revealed a shock of green hair and icy blue eyes.

He smiled at you, your own lips twitching and pulling until the corners lifted and mirrored him. His laugh came next, eerie and almost mournful, but your own joining in until it was deafening and terrifying to all that could hear it.

Again you felt yourself lifted, this time in the arms you wanted more than anything, The Joker carrying you from the cell and into the fiery hallway. Bodies lay before you, framing your escape route, and J didn't let you go until he reached the getaway vehicle, slowly placing you in the backseat. Leaning down, his lips ghosted over yours, a new scar across his cheek catching your eye. His kiss was brief, a peck at your lips, and then he spoke the words you had been dying to hear for so long.

"Let's go home."

#jared leto #leto joker #jared leto joker #reader request #leto joker fanfiction #the joker x reader #jared leto fanfiction

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years ago

Text

for auld lang syne

“And then I woke up in the hospital alone, and I saw the doctor alone and took a taxi home alone. I went to physical therapy alone and saw my counsellor alone. Whatever you thought, Katsuki, whatever you believed made me spend six months staring at my phone and thinking I’d ruined everything.”

It’s time for your agency’s extravagant New Years’ Eve party. But after a little sabbatical, there are some things you’re not ready to come back to.

characters: katsuki bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.2k

warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, pro hero!bakugou and pro hero!reader, mentions of injury, near-death experiences and gunshots, smoking, drinking, angst with a (filthy) happy ending, me being a whore for glamorous new years’ parties

notes: This fic has been dragging me across the coals since Christmas- I could not get it out of my head, despite how much work I knew it would be to get it out on time. Still, it feels supremely worth it. I have a metric ton of love to give to @hoe-doroki for beta-ing this mammoth on such short notice (I dumped it in her lap at 4am) because she really helped me whip it into shape. As always. 💖

Happy New Year, everyone.

(MASTERLIST)

“Won’t be long now.”

Anxiety bleeds into the already-nervous voice of your driver, muffled by the plexiglass divider that separates you. You’ve been sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for the past four red lights, barely inching toward the intersection with every green.

You’re well past fashionably late at this point. You’re sure that the commissioned driver’s fearing for his job at this point, knowing exactly how long ago you were supposed to have arrived at your own party.

But you couldn’t care less. The longer it takes you to get there, the better. The vodka you’d downed neat, standing over the bar cart in your polished apartment, sours in the pit of your stomach. And the fact that your outfit barely allows a spare breath isn’t exactly cooling your nerves, either.

You’re draped over the door, resting one elbow on its edge to cushion your jaw as you lay your forehead against the chilly glass. Outside, the crowded traffic casts a golden warmth over the bluish urban night, betraying the slow swirl of fluffy snowflakes that drift lazily into the street.

Tonight has all the makings for an ideal, albeit bitterly cold, New Year’s Eve. But if it were up to you, you’d be watching all the wonder unfold from the comfort of your own bed.

You’ve been away long enough, though, says your agent. It’s time, says your manager. You stay away from the spotlight for too long and we’re going to forget about you, says the Internet.

The glittering gold fabric your stylist presented you with would’ve swelled your heart on any other occasion. He knows your taste to the button. And after breaking into exhausted sobs at your first fitting together, you’d been able to tell him that the outfit was perfect.

At long last, the glossy windows of your agency loom outside. You push the backseat door open before your driver can even kill the engine, stepping out as gracefully as you can muster and pulling the folds of your designer coat demurely closed around your glamorous party clothes. You’re greeted by swaths of flashbulbs and determined shouts of your hero name, and suddenly the practiced gracious smile that you’ve always saved for the cameras is stretching your lips one more time.

You used to love something about this. But you’ve almost never had to face it alone.

Inside, the party’s taken off without you. Your coat’s taken before you can even see who’s hands are slipping it deftly off your shoulders, but by the time you’re ushered into the elevator and sent all the way to the top floor, you’re already sweating with the anticipation of all that’s waiting for you.

The doors open to a rush of guests, each noticing you simultaneously and pushing in to greet you.

Arriving late does absolutely nothing to dissolve the grandness of your entrance. Your attention is immediately pulled in a handful of different directions as celebrities and dignitaries and politicians shake your hands and congratulate you. People you’ve never met are telling you how good it is to see you on your feet again and, despite the overwhelming distractions, you can’t stop searching the crowd.

You don’t want to let yourself search for somebody in particular, but you spot him long before your shame catches up with you.

It’s not a glimpse of his mussed hair you catch, bobbing through the crowd. Nor is it a slip of the edge of his suit, the most devastating shade of midnight blue you could have possibly imagined.

Your eyes, like magnets, are drawn right to his crimson gaze. Lightning shoots through your chest, and you look away so fast you nearly pull a muscle in your neck. You cast your gaze immediately to the red-faced MP in front of you and let yourself stare. Still, from the corner of your eye, you can see the way he lingers, still facing you.

You haven’t seen Katsuki in months. Luckily, your ability to multitask has not faded, and you make easy small talk with the mayor and his wife while you sense him, in all his midnight splendor, disappearing into the crowd again.

A close call. Too close, in fact, not to warrant a drink. You excuse yourself kindly from the mayor’s attention, cutting through the glamorous partygoers until you reach the bar at the center of the room. It’s crowded, but you grab the bartender’s attention quick enough and order the first of many glasses of Dom Perignon.

The agency knows how to spend, for a special occasion.

It’s while you’re trapped at the bar, waiting for that imperative first drink, that he corners you. You spot him an instant too late, sidling between two dancing couples and crossing the short distance between you. There’s no way to skirt subtly away from him now. Instead, you lean more fervently across the bar and immerse yourself in an intense examination of the liquor, shelved decoratively behind the working bartenders.

He hesitates—possibly for the first time ever—but you’re determined not to watch as he searches for the right way to bridge the silence. You spot the way he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and when he finally speaks it’s low and sharp and bitter.

“That’s a nice dress.”

He has to lean too close to make his voice heard, speaking low and gruff to you in a way he never used to. You’re too anxious to care whether he sees the way you close your eyes to dull the fervent ache that flares in your chest.

He’s not allowed to say things like that to you. Not now.

“Listen.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, pushing ahead.

In the throes of closeness, it’s easy to pick up the tremor in his voice. That kind of shake used to scare you. It’s the way he’s always spoken to you when he’s keeping his temper at bay in public.

He’s opening his mouth to say something else, something deeper and far more expository perhaps, but your champagne arrives with no moment to spare. You pluck it eagerly from the bartender’s fingers with an exceedingly gracious smile and turn quickly in the direction you swear Katsuki’s not blocking.

“Watch it.” He grabs your wrist to keep you from sloshing half your fresh champagne down your front. His touch sears hotter than you’d dreaded, and you can’t stop yourself from flinching at the rough brush of his calloused fingers over your tender inner wrist.

Fuck.

“Don’t run off,” he insists, squeezing your wrist just a little tighter. Your entire body is drawn tight like a bow, but you’re not actively searching for an escape route at this point. Sensing this, he slowly unwraps his fingers, dropping your hand and letting you down half your drink in a couple of parched gulps.

“You look…” you start to say, letting your eyes wander his immaculate form one more time. Whoever cut that suit for him knew his shape well. It fits perfectly. Contrasts his golden hair like the night behind a harvest moon.

Absence has not culled your feelings for him. Especially not when he comes back to you like this.

You take another long, slow sip, ignoring the way Katsuki’s brows shoot toward his hairline when you nearly empty the glass. His gaze darts to the narrow flute in your hand, the prints of peachy lipstick that mar it.

With your heart beating a touch slower, you try again.

“You look good.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“I can’t—” he starts, shaking his head as his eyes swim the crowd. “I’m not doing this.”

“What?” Your stomach drops. When he looks at you again it’s dead straight, burgundy and blazing in that way that used to make you molten.

Now it makes you want to cut and run.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ play nice, like this,” he pushes. He takes a step toward you, letting your name—your real name—fall from his lips as tender and soft as a prayer. “Explain to me why my agent had to tell me you were gonna be here tonight.”

“Katsuki,” you plead quietly, backing away from him a touch. “I don’t want to—I can’t. Here. Please.”

For a million other people he might press on. He might get angry and demand an answer, threaten anything it takes to solve the puzzles in his brain. For you, his strong jaw ticks and he shoves clenched fists back into his ironed pockets.

“Let’s just,” you begin, “make it through to midnight, okay?”

“Fine,” he bites, but he doesn’t like folding to you. He gets you back by clearing his throat and extending you a palm, drawing the attention of the people around you. They turn, charmed by the agency’s finest reappearing as the duo they’ve always adored.

There’s a glint of something in his eyes as he gives his chin a little jut toward the dance floor.

“Dance with me, then.”

You’ve been to hundreds of opulent agency spectacles together. Charity benefits, galas, holiday parties and the like have always been studded by your presence. But no matter how many times you’ve entered the party together, you never managed to get him onto the dance floor. Despite your whining and pleading and fussing, he’s never ever let you drag him out there.

So this feels like a particularly low blow. But the orchestra’s struck up a dreamy rendition of The Way You Look Tonight and there are too many people watching for you to turn him down.

Instead, you down the rest of your champagne, set it on the bar behind you, and slip your hand defiantly into his.

“Fine.”

His fingers close gently around your palm and he gives it a lingering squeeze that turns your blood to venom.

You’re already racing through a complex plan to survive this attention as he walks you onto the dance floor. Some of the other couples pause in their swaying to send a smattering of applause over the crowd. You can feel the winning smile tugging at your mouth, forcing you to swallow the panicked ache in your chest.

Katsuki pauses at the center of the dance floor and pulls you slowly closer. The low dip of your gown places his warm hand on bare skin when he settles it in the small of your back, and you’re sure he doesn’t miss the sharp little suck of breath that you’re not prepared to hide.

He does not try to speak, so you’re silent as you settle a shaky hand on the shoulder of his perfect suit. He’s as perfect a dancer as you’ve always known he’d be, and he leads you into a smooth little sway that’s easy enough to navigate in your precarious gold heels but sweeps you into the music like a scene from years gone by.

“Hey,” he grunts a few bars in, ducking a little closer as his fingers press into the bare skin of your spine. He pulls you against him, forcing your tense body against his. The gentle dip of his hairstyle brushes your temple as he leans forward to murmur in your ear. “You’re holding your breath.”

You deflate against him, letting your eyes fall shut. When you take your next careful inhale, your head is filled by the heady, smoky scent of him. Your heart pounds so forcefully it’s practically blinding you. But above all else you hate yourself for still feeling all of this, after so many months of promising to force it away.

Katsuki knows you well enough not to try and trap you in conversation in public. But he doesn’t pull back any further, continuing to hold you flush against him, letting your soft cheek brush his with every couple of steps.

Despite your best efforts, you’re drowning in him: the strength of his touch, the fluidity in his movements. His thumb strokes the base of your spine with an easy rhythm that you’re trying hard not to notice. It’s becoming too much. He’s holding you closer than a colleague should, tucking his nose too attentively against the side of your head for a courtesy dance. You’re overthinking too many of the signs. You’re letting yourself believe what should have been thoroughly dashed to pieces so many months ago.

It’s when tears well behind your glittery eyelids that you put a stop to it.

“Katsuki, I—” You can’t finish, pushing yourself sharply away from his chest. Whatever expression of dreamlike peace that had touched his eyes fades quickly as he sees the telltale wet sparkle in yours, and he reaches for you an instant too late.

He calls your name softly, fingertips brushing the edge of your upper arm. But your tears are spilling over and you’re backing away and you cannot be here anymore, not when people are starting to see.

“I can’t do this,” you plead. “I can’t pre—I’m sorry.”

With a final shake of your head, you turn and hurry clumsily from the dance floor, pulling up the beaded skirt of your heavy gown and sweeping, as quickly as possible, to the glass doors shut tightly against the imposing snow on the terrace.

It’s bitterly cold, nearly fifty storeys up, and the wind whips mercilessly past your bare arms with biting chill. You can’t stay out here long, but it still feels better than the alternative.

With shaking fingers, you dip into the tiny bag you’ve been wearing over one shoulder. You’ve stashed exactly one emergency cigarette in its silky depths. You haven’t smoked in weeks, but something told you that tonight would beg one.

You have to back away from the railing to even light it in the wind, but you’re barely two puffs in before the door behind you opens carefully.

It’s the last person in the world you hoped for. And the only one you can imagine finding you out here. He’s got a glass of something neat in each hand—amber in one, clear in the other. He spies the cigarette in your fingers and his soft, concerned expression melts into a scowl.

“You’re still smoking?”

You take a defiant drag, blowing the smoke in his direction. The wind catches it, carrying it in a sharp curve back over your head. Katsuki licks his lower lip, but you can tell by the way his nose twitches that he’s trying not to chuckle.

You nod toward the whiskey in his right hand. “How many of those have you had tonight?”

“Not enough,” he quips. He nods toward the cigarette. “Put it out.”

“You don’t get to order me around anymore.”

“I said put it out.”

Your livid soul wants to defy him. You’re craving the conflict that inevitably comes when you both dig in your heels. But you’ve got no energy left to fight, so you flick the smoke dejectedly onto the wet pavement and crush it under one delicate pump.

“Better?” The attitude cuts cruelly through your voice. Katsuki just pushes the other glass into your hand and you know that it’s gin before you even have to smell it. You roll your eyes.

“The healthier alternative,” you snarl, but he’s finished with your games.

“Come inside,” he prompts. “You’re gonna lose your nose out here.”

“I’m not sure that’s your problem any longer.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you? Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Katsuki, I wanna hear you say it.”

He’s throwing back an irritated slug of his drink, but he bristles, gesturing wildly with the cup.

“Like we’re not gonna be partners anymore.”

His voice is punctuated by a horrible, involuntary sob that breaks from your lips. He’s always been able to read you so well, picking up on things that you’re not even ready to acknowledge. But he’s right. That is how you’ve been speaking, because you can’t even imagine standing next to him in a photo right now, let alone letting him take your life into his hands.

Katsuki moves forward, shocked by your tears, but you hold your empty palm out straight and, like he would only for you, he relents.

“Because I don’t think we can be anymore.”

“Shut up. Look at you. You’re fine. You look…” his eyes cast briefly over your form, “fine.”

You clap a hand protectively to your abdomen, remembering the painful tug and knowing that he’s missing the point.

“That’s not why,” you snap through your tears. “That’s not even…close to why. Katsuki, don’t be dense.” Your voice is breaking because you’re about to say it, the thing you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel as you were zipped into your gown earlier tonight. And if you’re going to say it, there’s no point in doing it with gusto.

Might as well go out like the whimpering fool you are.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whine, “because somehow, despite my best efforts, Katsuki, I fell fucking in love with you, so hard, and you knew I did, and so you…you don’t. You don’t, and I’ve ruined everything, and that’s fine, but I—”

He pulls your name from the very depths of his chest. If you were expecting fire and brimstone, you’re met with an even more harrowing sight—soft, somber, remorseful Katsuki, looking at you like he’d stop the world on its axis if it would make things better.

The memories are too easy to reconjure, and the sunshine of that sticky summer afternoon that changed everything lights up behind his gaze.

There was a crime syndicate you’d been uprooting for months. An underground hideout tucked well away from the prying eyes of hero society. A stray spray of bullets—bullets, of all things, finding the gaps in your shattered armour and nearly taking you from him.

You’d been sure. Both of you. There were too many shots. There was too much blood. The hideout was too well-hidden for anybody to find you in time. Your vision was bleeding out around the edges, and you saw Katsuki cry real tears for the first time.

In a slurred heap of breathless prose, you’d unloaded everything. The most important secret you’d ever kept from him came spilling from your blood-tinged lips.

You were glad to go, if it meant you never had to lose him. Glad to be the one to selfishly leave him behind. You were going to be okay if you never had to face a world without him in it. Because—and you’d choked this on a fresh wave of blood and ungraceful spittle—you’d loved him as long as you’d ever known him.

Six days later, you woke up alone in the ICU. And that was the last you’d seen or heard or known of the man who’d once promised to have your back, always.

Katsuki silently finishes his drink. His cheeks and nose have flushed deeply from the ruthless chill, and he turns to give the city one last glance before moving toward the door.

“Come inside,” he gruffs. Deep shivers have broken out along the column of your spine, but you wrap your frigid arms around yourself in protest.

“I’m not going back in there.” Not like this.

“Idiot,” he snaps softly. “Look at you. You’re gonna die for real if you stay out here.” He tightens his jaw and slams the empty glass down on the windowsill. Then he looks at you with all the lights of the night blazing in his crimson stare.

“Let me take you somewhere quiet. No one’s gonna see.” His chest rises and falls with a deep breath and he reaches carefully for your arm. “I promise.”

Even with a breaking heart, you’re a fucking sucker for him. Your voice is teary and pathetic but pinched by cold.

“Fine.”

He slips an arm around your shoulders—making your chest lurch—and you duck back inside. Immediately he takes you to the wall, putting himself between you and the rest of the party. With the breadth of his chest he shields you from prying eyes that grow drunker by the minute.

You skirt the edge of the party, making it to the stairwell door on the opposite wall. Somebody by the bar looks up just in time to see Bakugou tugging fiercely down on the handle, but you slip onto the fluorescent-lit landing and the silver door falls shut behind you without consequence.

You’re turning around to grab for the door that isn’t closing fast enough as he slips through it, colliding gently with his chest. Bakugou grabs your wrists to stop you, and for an instant you’re nose-to-nose, smelling him and the whiskey on his breath and the faint odour of paint that never quite faded from the concrete walls.

If not for the tears leaving streaks in your makeup, you might let yourself believe he’s lingering in front of you on purpose.

You pull from his grip and turn back toward the stairs before either of you have the chance to imagine more.

Your office is at the end of the hall on the next floor down. It’s a corner office studded with windows, far too lovely for someone who spends as much time in the field as you do. But you’d worked hard to make it a personable space, with plants and artwork and a couple of very comfortable guest chairs in emerald velvet.

Katsuki rolls his eyes every time he has to wave off the odour of your favourite scented candle, but you’ve caught him admiring what you’ve done with his office, too.

Now, the space is too tidy for either of your tastes, a little dusty from so many months of neglect. You’ve been out of commission for six months, and nursing a heartbreak far too immense to allow any casual visits to the agency.

He closes the door behind the both of you. Locks it, just in case. You’re already pacing across the rug and perching on the edge of the desk, gratefully taking some of the weight off your aching feet.

He keeps his back to you for a long moment, fingers lingering on the brass doorknob. His shoulders bob with a deep, harrowing sigh.

“You were dying.”

He turns around, and in the quiet dark of your office his eyes are lit up with a deeper fear than you’ve ever seen in him. He comes toward you and sits in one of your squishy little chairs, steepling his fingers and settling his elbows on his knees.

“You don’t–” he shakes his head and lowers it, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. “You don’t understand. You weren’t making any sense.”

“I was,” you bite back, gripping at the edge of your desk. “I meant everything I said to you, Katsuki; I remember every word.”

He flinches. He looks so sorry it’s starting to genuinely scare you.

“That’s not it,” he demands, straightening. “You didn’t. I did.” He slapped a hand against his chest, the dull thud reverberating through your own heart.

“You said those things and I didn’t believe you. They couldn’t have been true. Not when I’d spent so much fucking time wishing they could be. I couldn’t tell myself you felt that way about me. I couldn’t hope. Not when I’d come so fucking close to losing you so easily, I—”

His voice breaks and he looks away, and you might be crazy but his chin gives a telltale little shake like he’s holding back tears.

“So you thought it would be easier to what? Fucking ghost me like a bad Tinder date?”

That hurts more than it should. You’ve seen Bakugou at his very worst, bleeding and soot-streaked and showing you feelings he never means to. For a very brief period in your lives, you believed yourself to be special.

“Don’t play the innocent,” he snarls. “You never talked to me, either. I had to find out from my fucking manager that you were outta the hospital.”

“So you never thought to drop by? Bring some fucking… flowers?” You can feel the venom filling your mouth and you’re not altogether certain you’re strong enough to swallow it this time.

“And tell you what? That I was in love with you and, maybe I heard you wrong, but you said something while you were dying in my fuckin’ arms and I was hoping for some goddamned clarification?”

“Yes!” You sob, the word ripping itself from your chest and landing wet and heavy on the floor between you. “That! Anything would have been better than radio fucking silence. Katsuki, I was sure you hated me.”

“Well I fucking love you, okay?” He rises from his chair, taking one step forward. It lands him almost right between your thighs and you hate how close he is, but you have no power to pull away. He cups your jaw in strong, gentle fingers, forcing your eyes to his.

“I fucked up,” he presses. He leans down and presses his forehead to yours and this time his proximity is on purpose. You drink it down in eager gulps.

“I missed you,” he murmurs. Despite your tears and the ache in your heart, you give a wet little laugh and nuzzle your nose against his.

“I missed you, too.”

He takes your hands and pulls them both to his chest. And for a long moment you just sit there, curled over one another in the dark and growing accustomed to the idea of being okay again.

“Did you just…” you start after a long moment of silence. His eyelashes flutter against your cheek as he tucks his cheek against yours, but the grin that pulls your mouth is enough for him to stand back and look at you.

“Did you just admit to making a mistake?”

You’re laughing at your own joke before Katsuki can even roll his eyes. But he’s scowling good-naturedly and tugging himself against you by the hips.

“C’mere, you brat.”

He’s leaning in to close the distance between you when muffled chanting from upstairs makes you pause. You tilt an ear toward the window and light up, easily recognizing the five, four, three, two, one as the magnitude builds.

Bright flashes of gold and red light up the sky outside your window in a brilliant display. And all at once the lingering ache drains from your chest and you shoot Katsuki a fond little smile.

“I guess it’s midnight.”

“We missed the fireworks,” he notes, nodding toward the window as he edges back toward you.

“Not really,” you confess, and the first real big smile breaks through the pain when he steps up between your knees again, nice and tight and deliberate.

He cups your jaw in one hand again, settling the other palm on your knee, where it peeks through the golden slip of your dress.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, eyes falling shut. You hear the way he smiles, that bare little chuckle that used to make your heart light up like stars.

He leans in and kisses you without another word. It’s soft but firm and so loving, so much better than any brush of the hand or lingering glance. Better, even, than the way he danced you into a stupor upstairs. This is yours and nobody else’s.

And you’re not letting him go anytime soon.

You let the kiss deepen as naturally as you can, dropping your jaw and letting the bare press of his tongue roll against your teeth. You reach up and grab his jacket by its lapels, hitching him even closer as the fireworks die out behind you.

He’s not backing down, either. Katsuki draws his hands from your body to unbutton his jacket, shrugging it away easily without breaking the kiss. He’s pressing his mouth to yours in long, lingering spells, tasting you eagerly while his hands have to stay busy. But as soon as he can he’s touching you again, teasing his fingers under the slit of your dress and brushing them over your bare thighs.

“Katsuki…” you whine into his mouth, turning your head to gasp and fill your empty lungs. He finds the next bare patch of skin, kissing down the side of your jaw. He finds your earring where it lays against your tender neck, sucking the crystal into his mouth and giving it a gentle tug.

“Fuck,” you gasp, and he grins into your skin.

“Don’t tell me you’ve had enough already.”

“Not a chance,” you growl. There are millions of questions flooding your subconscious. But years of tension and desire spiral more fiercely between you. It’s energy that demands release. And you don’t want to wait another second.

“God,” he groans hard, collapsing gently into you. As he presses forward against you, the twitching swell of his erection pushes into your bare thigh. You slide your palms down the meat of his chest and find his mouth again, kissing him with searing intent.

“Look at you,” he rasps into your mouth, gripping hard at the weighty skirt of your beaded gown. “You’re a goddamned vision in this, you know that?”

You pull back to look at him, raw sexual energy briefly dispersed by his tender confession. For a long moment you sit there, panting at each other, remembering how much this is about to mean.

Fuck it. If he’s in, so are you.

“Help me get it off.”

You slide to your feet, pushing him back a couple of steps to accommodate you. As soon as you turn around he’s sliding a palm up your side, thumbing at the fabric to find its zipper.

“God damn,” he growls, leaning in to kiss a path down the column of your spine. He drops to one knee as he works the zipper down the back of the dress—sitting low, thanks to its open back—letting his mouth trail all the way to the waistband of your underwear. All the while, you brace a palm on the edge of your desk, trying your best not to implode.

This is more attention than you ever could have prayed for.

He peels the thin straps down your arms and shoves the whole mess to your feet. You’re bending down to unbuckle the straps on your heels, but he stops you with a hand on the back of your thigh.

“Leave ‘em on.”

His voice sends a sharp pang of arousal through your entire body. When he stands, trailing his fingers all the way up the back of your naked thigh and over the swell of your ass, the arousal disperses into a dull ache that settles in the pit of your stomach and throbs incessantly.

He digs his fingers into the flesh of your hip and turns you to face him. Your nipples are already peaking in the chill of your office, and he sucks a deep breath through his teeth as he slides his palms up your tummy.

There’s puckered scar tissue and new ridges on your abdomen, but there’s no pain when he traces brushes over them.

He pauses, looking down with dull shock tugging his brow. You’re holding your breath again, watching him circle the roughest part of your new scars with one tender thumb.

“It’s okay,” you plead, cupping his cheeks and forcing his eyes back to yours. There’s pain littering his gaze that you’re determined to dissolve, and you lean in to kiss him until he’s groaning into your mouth and drawing his hands toward your chest.

“God,” you breathe, goosebumps betraying you as they race beneath his fingers. Katsuki watches your face as he dips his head, pushing your breasts together and laying kisses between them.

“Please,” you whimper, reaching forward and settling a hand over the front of his pants. You palm the shape of his cock through the pressed wool and he flinches, biting gently into your tender flesh.

“Katsuki,” you pant, squeezing and rubbing the hard swell in a gentle, heady rhythm as you set your ass on the edge of your desk again. “I need you.”

“Jesus,” he curses, dropping his hands and reaching desperately for his tie. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me before I even get my cock out, sweetness.”

It’s the dirtiest thing he’s ever said to you. And it shows. You’re a shivering, lustblown mess already, but the petname that falls from his lips is enough to make you whimper.

He shrugs out of his shirt and pushes you further onto the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you and pushing your thighs apart with strong fingers.

“Always kinda wanted to do this in here,” he confesses with that cocky smirk that’s always made a hummingbird out of your heart.

But Katsuki doesn’t give you too much time to swoon over his pretty words, kissing a path up the inside of one plush thigh and nipping at your sensitive flesh. He helps you brace your heels against the rug and lift your hips, peeling your underwear off and rucking it down your knees. There’s something very naughty about the way it feels to settle your bare ass on your polished desk.

But there’s something even naughtier about the way it feels to have Katsuki on his knees in front of you.

He pushes your thighs apart again, harsher this time, and settles your knees over his shoulders. You’d like to ride the wave of self-consciousness that threatens to crest when his breath ghosts over the folds of your heated sex.

He pushes higher for a moment, taking your sides in his hands and drawing lovely little kisses down the rough length of your scar. You push self-consciously at his head, making him pull pack and settle a hand over the flesh instead. He tilts his chin up, shooting you a look so filled with guilt and sorrow it nearly shatters the moment.

He wasn’t there for the pain. And as he kisses back down to your hips and thighs, you let yourself hope that this will be enough to make up for it on both sides.

But then he leans in and licks a long stripe up your cunt and the groan that echoes from his chest makes it hard to do anything but cum on the spot.

“Fuck,” you sigh wantonly, letting your head fall back as you brace your palms on the wood behind you. Your fingertips dig into the surface and he settles into an easy rhythm, slipping his arms under your thighs and tugging you tight to his face.

He’s not shy with his voice, either, grunting and sighing into your pussy with every stroke of his tongue. The noises double your pleasure almost immediately, coupled with the obscene slurps that vibrate all the way up your spine.

It doesn’t take long at all for him to find that tender little spot, the perfect direction from which to swirl his tongue against your clit. It’s obvious in the way your legs go tight around the sides of his head, the way you shiver and cry and clap a hand to the back of his head.

He grunts hard into your body when your fingers rake through his hair, harder still when your tense thighs press the narrow points of your heels into the flesh of his back.

“Katsu,” you whimper, already fucked out and tender like you’ve never been for him, “I’m gonna cum. Fucking shit, I-I’m gonna…”

He takes your warning like a hit, leaning more fiercely into you, keeping his rhythm with intense precision. Later, you’ll try not to think about why he’s so good at this. But right now, all you can think about is the way your pleasure rears up and crashes over you, sending loud gasps and breathy mewls of ecstasy from your chest as you squeeze his head and pull his hair and roll your hips shakily into his persistent mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” he snarls, sitting back on his haunches and swiping a palm over his flushed lips. He looks up at you, rubbing your thigh with one free hand as you come down panting from your ecstatic high. Between his legs, his cock juts obscenely down one thigh of his suit pants, and he palms himself shamelessly as he gets to his feet, taking in every inch of your pleasure-soaked self.

“You’re gonna make me cream my fuckin’ pants someday,” he chides, fumbling with his belt and impatiently shucking his pants. His undershorts follow closely, and you’re barely on your feet again before he takes you by the shoulders and turns your back to him.

“C’mere.” He slides a hand under one of your thighs, hitching it gently onto the edge of your desk and coming up tightly behind you. The brush of his knuckle against your ass proves that he’s stroking himself, and the tip of his stiff cock leaves a little print of wet precum on the back of your leg.

“Please,” you moan, still hazy and shaken from your first orgasm. Still endlessly needy, though, when Katsuki’s involved. “God, baby, just fuck me already.”

“Fuckin’ hell, you can’t say shit like that,” he groans, twitching behind you. “It’s like you don’t know how fuckin’ sexy you are.”

He braces a hand on your bare hip and then you feel it, the tip of his drooling cock pressing up between your slippery folds. It’s enough to make you whine and arch your back, wiggling your hips impatiently against his.

It’s enough to make Katsuki lose it.

“Shit,” he growls, gripping the fat of your hip and pushing forward, sliding home with one smooth thrust. He bottoms out inside you right away, buried perfectly in your belly and making you feel every inch.

“Baby—” you start to breathe, but he doesn’t waste time. Katsuki reaches around and lays his palm flat on your sternum, pulling you back against him. He keeps his other hand braced on your hip for leverage, dropping his mouth to the crook of your shoulder while he starts to thrust.

All you can do is keep your knee planted on the edge of your desk and try not to scream as he fucks you in steady, long thrusts, lapping and sucking all along the side of your neck while his hand roams over your chest and thumbs your nipple. Whatever hairstyle you’d left the house with has come long undone by now and you’re sure that if your makeup wasn’t smudged before, it’s certainly not going to survive the drool and sweat and heat that he’s forcing through you with every push of his hips.

The slap of his body against yours fills the space, punctuated only by your harsh pants and quiet whines of pleasure. Katsuki’s fingers dig harshly into your hip, gripping you tighter each time he anchors himself back into your fluttering cunt. Your walls are clamping ruthlessly around him, but he doesn’t miss a beat, slipping that free palm away from your nipples and down your belly to strum rhythmically at the swell of your stiff clit.

“I love you,” he grunts breathlessly behind you, and the raw truth behind it brings a rush of warmth to your chest you can’t ignore. You turn your head sharply towards him, pushing your forehead to his and feeling every beat as his breathing becomes laboured.

His body’s growing tight behind yours, his thrusts losing some of their impeccable rhythm as his brow knits against yours. He’s concentrating hard—holding back, you realize—and you reach down to cover his hand that braces your hip, giving it a relenting squeeze.

“Baby,” you plead. “Let go for me, baby, I can feel it.”

“God,” he mutters. “No—fuck, gonna make you—with me, sweetness.” Your body is clenching in preparation for your own climax already, and the fact that he can even pick up on it shouldn’t surprise you.

“I’m there,” you promise. “I’m there, Katsuki, fuck, just cum for me. Please.”

His arms tighten around you, seizing you hard against his heaving chest. You lean forward and seal your mouth against his, kissing him as he loses control and cums with a shout that echoes at the back of your throat.

He grabs your ass in one hand and fucks madly into you, spurting warm handfuls of cum into your belly and biting down hard on your lower lip. The erratic twitch of his fingers on your still-aching clit and the warm release inside you is enough to bring you to another tight, simpering little peak—not as powerful as the first one, but just as significant.

He stays behind you for a long moment, pinning you to the desk while he goes soft inside you. Finally he peppers kisses down the back of one shoulder and steps away from you, already smoothing his hair and taking in the image of you, in nothing but your heels, dripping with his cum.

The first of many, you let yourself hope, as you turn to carefully face him.

“I guess we missed the countdown,” you quip, reaching for your discarded panties. Navigating the strappy thing seems a great deal more complicated now that it’s not Katsuki tearing them off you.

He smirks at you in a way that does not make it easier to concentrate on the task at hand. Especially since he’s watching you struggle, easily buttoning himself into his now-creased shirt.

“I didn’t miss a thing.”

He’s already half-clothed by the time you get your underwear on again, stooping to collect your delicate dress from the floor and thumbing the sequins that pepper its surface. His smirk has dissolved into another pensive look as he examines the cloth.

“If I’d known,” he tells you, pressing the scratchy fabric into your hands, “I never would’ve—”

You lean up and push your mouth to his, soft and loving and just enough to silence him.

“I know.”

Once Katsuki’s got the rest of his clothes on, he helps you carefully into your dress and gets behind you one more time to help you zip it. He can’t stop kissing you even for a minute, peppering his lips over your back, neck, arms. He turns you around and takes your hands, kissing the backs of each palm with devotion that, if you stop and think about it, you’ve seen in his eyes a thousand times before.

“You’ll make it up to me,” you promise good naturedly, letting him slide his arms around your waist. He looks at you again, diligent and honest.

“I will.”

“Good.”

You slide your hands up his sleeves of heart-stealing midnight blue, smiling so big it ought to hurt. You tilt your head toward the door, giving your chin a little jerk as you squeeze his biceps through the pressed wool.

“For a start,” you say, daring to lean a little closer while he’s still feeling tender, “how about another dance?”

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo #my hero academia #bakugou #bnha #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo #it's new years eeeeeeve and i am not #spending it with him #sigh #;.;

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bangteamhyuk · 4 years ago

Text

Seesaw (II)

Genre: Mature/Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors with benefits/Fuck buddies, Producer! Min Yoongi, Fuck girl! OC Y/N, Neighbors AU (a Spin-Off to “Moving On”)

Warning: (NSFW! 18+) Car fingering while Yoongi drives, handjob, blowjob, cum licking/ spitting, Producer! Min Yoongi practicing SAFE SEX and ya’ll kids should do it too, mentions of bullying, suggestive abuse of power/ office boss being a d*ck, alcohol drinking and getting hammered, mention of sexist remarks, Seokjin being damn handsome AF just by walking in OC Y/N’s life like it’s okay because clearly it isn’t (I’m Jimin bias btw, I know you aren’t asking but I’m serving still) OC Y/N basically being unapologetically herself (living life in debauchery) and Yoongi knowing exactly what he needs in his damn life and he isn’t taking no for an answer.

Word count: 10,977k

SYNOPSIS: For months, you’ve been trying to hide your little crush on your neighbor who lives on the 18th floor. Until one night, you saw him drunk on the elevator with an empty bottle of Scotch, you asked if he maybe wants to have more of those in your place. And he did more than just agreeing.

Also thank you to these wonderful people: @flowerblu00 @milkyshoooky @sugaaddiction

“Of course, I’d love to….” you spoke low while taking a glass of water to drink. From the rims of the glass, you swore you could see Yoongi trying his best not to smile, playing it cool by pretending to struggle in picking the cooked meat from the grill. You bit the chopsticks to fight a smile, you must admit, that was pretty cute.

But Rush Hour. Of all the days you two choose to get laid was on Friday evening—a time where, unfortunately by default, everyone collectively decides to get laid as well. Thus, getting stuck in a sea of red lights. Needless to say, you two were bummed.

The traffic was so terrible, that it sucked you dry… literally. It’s as if a Dementor went around Yoongi’s car, found its way in, and unfashionably sucking you from underneath your seat. (Which by the way doesn’t look sexy at all. Seriously, who gets turned-on from that idea? Clearly not you) You were damn fine damp a minute ago, and now it felt uneventfully dry.

“You know what? This is ridiculous. I can see a motel nearby, why don’t we go there in the meantime?” you dramatically lamented from your seat. Yoongi, who was drinking iced coffee, almost choked to hear you declare your frustration so casually.

“Well, um…” he peered through the windshield “I can see the cars are moving in the next lane…”

“The motel is right over there” you pointed, emphasizing the short distance between the car and the building to his left.

He gulped “I uh-- I don’t like to take you to some sleazy motel. Besides, we have our own place” he starts counting by the finger “One, we don’t have to lie down on dirty sheets. Two, won’t clearly hear people moaning next door, and lastly no one’s gonna charge us by the hour…” facing you and concern

“Tell that to your friend who’s waning by the minute…” you pursed your lip pointing in his nether region. He instinctively closed his legs at your retort and chuckled “It’s fine, we’ll be fine… thanks for the genuine concern. Oh look, the light turned green! See, we’re moving? I think the next lane is pretty lax...”

You can only huff as your dry reply.

As much as he wanted to leave with you right away and get to the nearest subway station the very moment you agreed, he couldn’t. Because of all the days he decided to feel horny, he chose to go out with his car. He shut his eyes and dropped his head on the steering wheel to express his blowing resentment towards the cars, gradually becoming stationary on the said next lane. Thus, extinguishing any glimpse of hope that you two would arrive at his place, at an earlier time.

With an aching face, he wished that he could turn back the time and just to leave his damn car at the apartment building. Just so he could save his own balls from turning blue by the minute.

It was obvious that he was frustrated too, like you. Who wouldn’t? Being jammed in almost half an hour already? Still on the city street, barely moving? You had to deal with it.

Then it hit you: Yeah, why not deal with it?

However, you quickly realized that this may be a hit or miss. Not all people share the same interest or kink, but you were dying to have your back scratched, and so is he. So fuck it, you’re doing it.

You began to move your legs, slowly brushing it against Yoongi’s hand which was resting on the gear. He reacted, naturally. In fact, when the traffic light changed colors from red to green, he accidentally stepped on the gas pretty abruptly which partly shoved you down from your seat “Sorry…” furrowing his eyebrow apologetically, deep enough to find your pardon.

“It’s okay” fixing your hair from the center, and tucking it securely on your ears. Thankfully, you didn’t forget to put on a seatbelt, or else the plan you had in mind would have backfired. He sighed in relief, grateful that you accepted his apology.

Uncontented, you then pressed your hand on top of his. His hands suddenly turned cold as he tightened his grip on the gear, right before your touch. While you were certain that most men reacted positively to it, being open to a semi-public tryst, your expectations were not met. Instead, he cleared his throat and held your hands... held your damn hands.

He gently hit the brake as he approached another mob of halted cars on the next lane. Obviously flustered, he quickly moved his head to the side taking glimpses of whatever there was on his side mirror while withholding his smile. He momentarily pulled his hands away from you to shift his gear to neutral, then held your hands back. He even pushed his own finger in between its gaps and locked it. Locked your damn hands.

Slowly you closed your eyes and took one deep breath, not because your heart started to flutter, but because of your utmost disappointment at his response. This is clearly different from what you wanted to happen.

You took a mental note of the events and Yoongi’s actions, concluding that he was clearly a man who disliked beating around the bush. So, for the sake of being clear on your intention, you aggressively pulled his hand, opened his palms and let it slowly brush the skin hiding underneath your skirt.

He froze. Now you got his attention.

Nervously, he coughed on impulse. While his one hand remained clutched on the steering wheel and his eyes still focused on the road, the other hand was busy grazing your inner thigh. Surprisingly, he didn’t budge. He lets you take control, directing him where you want him to be while touching you gently. You then took his wrist, and guided his fingertips towards where you wanted it from the very beginning.

“Y/N, I just think it’s better if we wai---” for a moment, he had forgotten what he wanted to say to you next, because suddenly he felt his finger move to a place where he is afraid you'll lead it to-- your wet slit.

He swallowed, his mouth left ajar and brows lifted in absolute surprise. “Oh shit” was the only thing he could say.

Whining softly from your seat, he reluctantly moved his head to watch you introduce his fingers to the pleasure of your flesh. You then extended your arms, cautiously reaching for his legs and caressed it intently. His eyes blinked rapidly, as he turned his head back to face the road, refusing to look back. His mouth is still hanging from the air, as his head floats in uncertainty mixed with pure ecstacy.

No one asked but, really, this is what you meant by taking matters into your own hand.

It took him a minute to process what was happening, and as such, he began to return the favor. Now free from your control, he started pressing his finger on your sensitive bud and stroked it gently. He bit his lip right after he heard you moaned, “...Yoongi”

“Fuck” he suddenly saw the traffic light turn red to green. He slowly stepped on the gas pedal, careful enough to prevent you being thrown from your seat again. He was now steering the wheel with one hand as he flicked your clit with the other at a steady pace. As acknowledgement on being gratified, you opened your legs wider.

He was game.

Yoongi briefly pulled his hands away from you to maneuver the car smoothly on the highway. He grunted at the view of another sight of flooded red lights. He wanted to get home so bad. All he could think of was to get on the bed with you with his cock finally warmed. But the highway had led this poor man’s dreams down in an instant.

Though, you refused to concede to the situation. You are willing to put up a fight against the status quo, ready to deny the world from preventing yours and Yoongi’s happiness from dying each second. Thus, like a good employee of this capitalistic world, you turn this deplorable event from liability to an asset: making this a great opportunity for you and Yoongi to bond closer. (Albeit, a different kind of bonding, that is)

As soon as he stepped on the brakes, you pulled out your seatbelt and moved towards his direction “Your car is heavily tinted right?” you asked while probing the cars around you from your window.

“Yeah, why?” He asked while putting back his hands to your slit, continuing to flick your bud, now significantly fast. You decided to turn it up a notch as you reached for the button of his pants. Slowly, unbuttoning it and pulling his zipper down. He started to pant, nervous to hear you reply.

“Safety first…” You then helped him shift the gear to neutral, and began pulling his pants and boxer roughly half way.

He groaned as he watched you grasp his stiff length, stroking it slow. “Is this what you meant when you asked if my car is tinted?” he quickly jerked his head up to check if the vicinity is safe, then briefly saw you nod your head to a ‘Yes’.

He choked when he sensed his tip poke on to your lips. It didn’t take a while for you to hear him moan when he felt his tip finally pressed the entrance of your mouth, gradually moving down on your tongue and on to your inner cheek. The warmth and wetness you’re giving him puts him in immediate joy.

He hissed at the sight of you taking him whole, and helped you fix your hair by putting it to the side, letting you breathe easy while you bob your head “Nngh… Y/N”

“Like that?” you part a bit and kissed his tip.

“Why do you keep asking the obvious?” he faintly chuckled as he tossed his head from his seat, right when he felt your tongue move from the bottom shaft and up to its head. Then quickly downed on him entirely again. His eyebrow creased automatically, as if contemplating today’s wisdom from the universe that all ‘good things come to those who wait’. He concentrated on that note like a mantra, as he shut his eyes tight.

Even when you were giving him a head, he was still kind enough to help you keep your hair away from your face. Holding it fairly light, trying not to pull. If this isn’t a gentleman thing to do, then I do not know what is.

“Y/N” He began sliding his two fingers in, which left you half giggling and panting at the immediate contact.

“Mm, you are doing me good hm?” you asked while stroking him slowly and watching his eyes closed, barely breathing as he mentally called to thank the universe for being blessed by you “You can add another finger if you want…”

“Damn, you are so hot…” His eyes then lit up, biting his lip and grinning with pride, thus displaying his perfect gummy smile that takes you to greater heights every time he does. “Yeah… I really appreciate your honesty, thank you for telling me you are horny” he replied as he prods his fingers in, progressively fast. Candidly making you clench and moan his name at the same time.

And like a good co-worker, you went back to hustle. Starting from the bottom to his top.

The tightness of your mouth in his shaft, the smell of your sweet perfume, the sound of his fingers squelching inside your very core, and the sight of you taking him whole, like a prized lollipop. Oh, and the fact that he pulled his (now) three fingers out from you to have a little taste…Yes, he nodded to himself. Licking every side of his fingers as if eating at KFC. Indeed, ‘it is finger licking good’.

It became apparent that all his senses were being satisfied when you finally felt him start to shiver. Everything was met, everything was good, everything became so overwhelming for Yoongi that even with his lids close, he can still see the light shine from heaven.

He gasped, leaving him marveled at your greatness by giving him a very good head. In fact, he found it so admirable that you start to feel him throb. Evidently, he is coming.

You were so good, that he barely withholds himself from coming. Along with the fact that he became unaware that his elbow accidentally hit the switch to dwindle down the window. “Fuck!” he writhed, thrusting his hip up spurting hard in your mouth.

“Yo, Casanova! Your windows are down!” The driver on the other side shouted.

His eyes widened, still sporadically shuddering from his high. “Shit!” He quickly pushed the button to raise his windows while his other hand pulled his pants and boxers up (at the least he managed to put his boxers up while in hurry, now 80% covering his ass) only it was too late.

Resisting to swallow his cum, you began to pull yourself up from your seat and look for a tissue stashed somewhere inside your bag. Upon seeing your head pop from below though, it didn’t take long for the other driver to discern what just happened.

“Nasty” was the last thing Yoongi heard from the grinning stranger before he finally put his window back up. Now completely shielded from his embarrassment.

Just then the traffic light turned red to green. Yoongi quickly hit the gas. Staying in this traffic was definitely the last thing he wanted to be in. He then thoughtfully swore to be mindful of his surroundings next time when another opportunity like this came, or maybe he would never (It’s too soon to decide)

But one thing is for sure, he swore he can never drive and see this road the same way ever again. Thanks to you.

A lilac lacy bra resting on his lampshade, matched silken panty hanging on the side of his headboard, black pants stuck in the middle of his bedroom door, an empty packet of condom on the edge of the bed, and his brief dangling, which managed somehow to reach on top his his TV.

Sitting with his legs crossed, his back resting on a pile of pillows with his hands supporting your weight. He happily watched you grind on him with great effort for a full whole blown minute. “Y/N” humming your name, in between his grunt.

“Yoongi” you recited his name in return like litany, hands gripping on his bare shoulders as you tossed your head back in trance.

“Fuck…” he began to propel his hips against you, meeting your every movement. One of his hands sneaked its way to your breasts cupping each and kneading it gently.

“Yoongi” you repeated, calling his name, spreading your legs wider to find your balance and continuing to roll your hips in synchrony with his. For a moment, the sound of slapping skin was all you could hear until it syncopated by his heavy breathing. He pushed himself close to you, hands now reaching towards your clit. Stroking and flicking it concurrently in full earnest.

His head suddenly fell on to your shoulder, his gasp becoming audibly clear sending you into utter frenzy. In response, you pulled yourself back and began nibbling his ear, light and soft. He moaned. Yes, the kind that reverberates, delivering you to the edge. Thus reaching your high.

He snickered after hearing you whimper “For someone who initiated everything, I honestly thought you could last. I didn’t know just the sound of me moaning can send you to peak?”

With your mouth still open, you grimaced at his snide remark “Lie down, why don’t you? Let’s see if I can take you with me?”

“No need to, I’ll come any time soon” he tilts his head to the side and kisses you, simultaneously thrusting in haste. His sudden reflex jolts you in another course of delirium. As his movements became erratic, you held on tight to his shoulders taking it as a cue to give each other one final push to reach both your climax.

“Y/N…” He gagged as he squinted his eyes hard. Together, you both curse at the sensation, and deeply sighing together after hitting the zenith. You both lie down at the same time, panting. For a while it was silent, as if both of you were taking time to ponder on life in general like a hermit sage.

“…. Is this going to be a regular thing?” he suddenly asked, shifting on his bed to face the ceiling. Finally, he was asking the important question.

“Sure. You mean no strings attached right?” moving your body to face him.

He then pursed his lip to say something but quickly retracted. He figured he needed to ask it, so he just let it roll. A necessary query, he thought. “Is this going to be exclusive or….”

“Let’s not kid ourselves and make things easier for us, so no. Exclusive is quite foreign territory for me. Although I can still be monogamous, that is if you want it to… but don’t push okay? I can only go for a short period” you stretched your arm and rolled to the edge, taking the liberty to take his bottled water from the bedside table and drink.

“No, no, it’s okay. As long as we keep using protection, I guess that’s fine. We can see other people on the side, while we keep in touch? I think it’s a pretty fair deal…”

“It’s a good deal” you pointed out as he nodded in agreement.

“But what if one of us isn’t up for it any longer? Do we tell or do we not tell? Because honestly I’ll hope you’d pick the forme-- ”

“Latter” you quickly replied before he finished the word ‘Former’

He chuckled, and shook his head in disbelief with your reply.

“Fine, I can adjust. I totally understand that this isn’t just about me, so in all fairness, I’ll agree to your demands. But you have to agree with mine”

“That is?” He sat back up and pulled out his soiled condom, knotted it first before throwing it in the trash bin.

“Give me your number” you opened your palm to his direction

“Well, I thought you’d never ask” he picked up his cellphone he left from the edge of his bed, while you combed down on the floor to find yours. You two then exchange phones and enter each other’s number, and return it back. “That was easy” he raised one eyebrow smirking at you.

“With that, we can um… reach each other wherever, whenever” you pressed your lips together and gave him a smile.

He nodded “Sure, but only if you wanted”

“Only if you wanted it too” you replied, cordially mimicking his head.

“Everything sound’s good to me” he shrugged “So, Deal?” he stuck his hand out to you and you took it. “Deal” you both shook it, sealing the agreement.

Seesaw. It is one of your favorite playground activities. You enjoy the momentary high and the unpredictability of being dropped down. Although more than anything, you adore the power play. You get the euphoria from being intrigued, guessing each time who gets to take the upper hand.

You love taking predictions, you love calculating, but above all you love to wager. You wanted a brief scare from losing, only to shift the leverage to your favor. For you, Seesaw is a game of dominance. And in the game of dominance, of course you like to be the one in control.

Even when you were little you were so engrossed at that thought, obsessing to declare yourself to be the winner. You were so competitive, that it made you fall on a sandbox one time, when you were playing with your next-door neighbor, Hee-joon.

Seeing from afar, your father quickly ran to you and held you close for comfort. Although when he was dressing your bruises, you remember vividly how he warns you not to cry in front of boys, because little boys always relish seeing a weak girl cry. You always have to emerge as the victor at all times. Hence, you never did. Even now as an adult. You fight back, you always do.

That’s why Hee-joon grew up hating you, because the last time you two played Seesaw again, you managed to put him up above and watched him revel in the air. Until he realized you refused to put him back down, not until he cried. You watched him weep and plead above you. Only then you decided to put him down when his mother came. To say the least, your mother was upset with your action, but your father felt proud.

Seesaw is the game that taught you how to take the highs and lows, but more than anything, it taught you how to be the one in supreme.

Every time you deal with men, you remember every word your father told you. As such, when you reached the epiphany that love is nothing but just an illusion, you decided to take things to the sheets instead. You’d rather be engulfed with pleasure rather than unnecessary emotions under the guise of romance.

And yet, somehow deep within you, you were too scared to admit the rationale why you vehemently refuse to lose. Because at the time when you fell and your father ran to you, you saw it in his eyes. He was looking at you, fearful to see someone he loves dearly be in so much pain. He was terrified to let you know how far the depths of a wound can go, until you can no longer feel… and you’re afraid to know it too.

It is the precise reason why, right now, you are watching Yoongi cover his face on a Sunday morning. Leading him to his high, watching him revel in absolute bliss, under him… literally. Yoongi pleaded for you to stop giving him another god-tier head, and let him breathe easy, before you could deliver him any further to his overdrive. While you indeed followed his plea by halting, you decided to tease him a little by pulling yourself up from the covers and went on top of him. You took his wrist and pressed his palms against your bare chest.

“Wait” he paused as he sat up and furtively looked for a condom in his drawer. “Thank God, we still have one last…” he pulled out the shiny foil packet. You took it from his hand and helped him put the rubber on.

And just like that, Yoongi again was on a roll. For the past few weeks, neither of you resisted sex. Monday night? On your couch. Wednesday? On his kitchen counter. Friday after work? Inside his car on a dark alleyway. Saturday night? Inside his shower. Now Sunday, back on his bed.

Sex with Yoongi is great, but you already expect that.

But just like a play of Seesaw, you know that this kind of arrangement will definitely have some highs and lows. You know that one day, you and Yoongi’s sex drive will decline, frequent calls will become rare, until it’s gone. So, keep them coming right? Not that you are worried, but really what is there to lose? Especially if the sex is good and you two are on an equilibrium, like that in the game.

Well, not until Friday.

---

“Hey, good work!” someone tapped your shoulder lightly after closing the meeting room, you turned around to see who it was.

“Oh, Hoseok. Thanks!” you grinned, happy to see one of your best friends attend your team’s presentation for a Cereal Company. You’ve known Hoseok since college, and even worked with him on your first job. Even if both of you left and went to a different company now, you two still find time to catch up. It just so happens that you two are now working on the same project.

Dipping your head a little low, you whispered to his direction “I was genuinely surprised to know you work for this company, I thought you hated their cereals?”

“Unfortunately, beggars can’t choose” he replied softly as you nodded in agreement, while walking with him on the office hallway towards the elevator lobby “Great to know they promoted you as the Event’s Manager huh?”

“As long as they pay me well, I can manage whatever shit the world throws at me,” you said, twitching your lip to the side and shrugging, making Hoseok hysterical.

“Cheers to being a slave for money”

“Cheers” you both tossed an imaginary goblet from each of your hands when suddenly, you heard your phone buzzing, so did his. Both of you stopped from the elevator lobby to read the message. You rolled your eyes “Seems your boss and my boss are going to announce their engagement?”

He chuckled, “I’m pretty sure they’re straight, Y/N. But I can’t come to this ‘Night After-Work Drink’…” he put his phone back in his pocket after reading it.

“Aw, C’mon it’s going to be the weekend tomorrow! Plus, I’m going to introduce you to my colleagues, we’ll have fun! Just come, let’s go Hoseok! Don’t leave me alone, please?” you whined before him, trying your hardest to convince one of your closest friends to come by using your pleading charm.

Hoseok just stared at you and breathed.

“Why? Have you not forgiven me for that time I accidentally left my hairbrush on your car and your ex thought you were cheating on her? Hence, leaving me now on my own to suffer?”

You stepped forward to face Hoseok before he could enter the elevator with you.

He rolls his eyes “Still dramatic as always. I told you, that’s been long forgotten. Besides, I am dating someone new”

“Oh” you said inaudibly, finding Hoseok slightly displeased with your overly critical reaction.

“Hey, I know that face!” he narrowed his eyes while expressing his distaste to see your silent retort “And no, I have no plans in introducing you to her… Yet! Not until we’ve established whatever we are” he continued while pressing the elevator to the ground floor.

“Hm, still sounds trouble to me”

“We’ve only known each other for a week, Y/N. Give her some slack.”

“Then why are you cancelling extra working hours? When can you drink to your heart's content, hm? Beer will taste good, especially if you’re not the one paying” you bobbed your brows and smug “Just admit it Hoseok, she got you wrapped around her fingers. I told you, you can’t do this on a regular. Women like a little chase…”

“First of all, we’re not paid to kiss ass. Second, you also hated the idea of having to go there too and third, she’s not like you…”

You opened your mouth, clearly taken aback to hear his remark. Hoseok quickly clarified “I meant to say, you’re frighteningly the almost perfect girl…but she’s not the fooling type.”

“That’s what we all say, that’s what we all want you to believe Hoseok...” You retort incredulously “it’s better be uncompromising forthright than give you false hope. Go choose!”

Hoseok sighed deeply “Look, one day you are going to meet someone who will probably prove to you that not all men are shit.” he said while crossing his arms and stared at you, admonishingly.

“I already did. I have you” you pouted. The elevator stopped as Hoseok waited for you to step out first then followed.

“Besides me” leading you now to his car in the parking lot. His eyes flickered as he remembered something… or someone “Know what? there’s Seokjin-hyung”

“Oh, you mean Seokjin the half-god from the Film Department, in our Uni? Seokjin is infinitely out of question. Have you seen his latest drama on TV? Park Bo-gum even sent a coffee truck to congratulate him” You sighed resentfully.

“How’d you know?”

“Instagram. Okay don’t judge”

Hoseok chuckled, stopping at his car to turn it open with his car keys “I clearly am doing it right now”

“Technically, he is untouchable. You’ve seen how the girls reacted then when they saw me and him together on a couch? When we were literally just talking about Chinese Philosophy class during that frat party. And like some teen-romcom movie, rumors started to fly the next day and they multiplied by the hour” You opened the door to his passenger seat and secured yourself with a seatbelt.

“Easy A. It’s Easy A.” He stressed as he entered and adjusted the side mirror’s on the driver’s seat .

“The difference between you and Seokjin are that we’re friends… and he and I just happened to be in one class”

He starts the engine of his car, offering to drive you all the way to the bar where your team is having this week’s celebration “My point is… theoretically speaking, that there are men who are as nice, like he is. Plus, he knows those nasty rumors weren’t true. Won’t you forgive those girls?”

“They’re basically my creators? Shouldn’t this present slut thank them instead?”

“You and I both know you were once a college prude, and you never slept with any of those rumored men… Seokjin-hyung knows the truth. Even if he was conscripted to the list, unlike other men who took advantage of that, he fervently denied”

“Because that’s the truth. We never slept, Hoseok. Above every one, you know I didn’t have the guts. Wow, I am still not sure whether to feel offended or happy about it. Am I not worth it?”

“Y/N, seriously? Seokjin’s a true gentleman, that’s it. That’s the tea. I can even swear he was into you that time, until her groupies held an emergency meeting to evilly conspire against you… I’m actually glad they’ve been dealt with. This is why we can’t have nice things”

“Hoseok, okay, granted that he and I ended up dating each other back then… It is still going to fail because lov-- ”

He started to turn on the radio, loudly “What? I can’t hear you! Know what? Have a talk with your pessimism when you get to the bar. Here, I’ll even give you extra money so you could offer it a few more drinks” he pulled a few coins from his pocket and handed it over to you.

You chuckled, batting your eyes to his direction “Aw, ever the romantic Hoseok. Well, keep them I’ll collect it soon enough”

“She is going to be great, Y/N. Don’t jinx it!”

“Fuck capitalism!” your boss shouted.

“Fuck capitalism!” you all repeated and shouted it while drinking another shot all together.

“Y/N! Lara! Do that soju bomb thing together!” Your boss suddenly made his way to sourpuss the night by ordering you two to do a party trick which is gravely against your will.

Lara gave you a look and you just shrugged, telepathically and ironically accepting defeat from capitalism itself, by giving in at your boss’s request. You two were compelled to act normal as if nothing happened. Honestly, no one really needs to know about you, her, and canker Joe. As a matter of fact, you don’t want anyone to know that you tried to sleep with canker Joe from your office. Besides, didn’t Lara hide the fact that he was seeing Joe too? Maybe she was too embarrassed about him as well. Regardless, he is definitely a thing in the past and should be kept inside a box, six-feet underground for good.

“Hey!” Lara plastered a smile and handed you the glasses, as usual, to prepare both your famous tricks.

“Hey, hey!” you faked cheered as well as you helped her open more beers to spray on each glass, half filling the glass. Lara then filled each shot glass with a fair amount of soju, while you meticulously placed them strategically close so by the time you shove one, the other shot glass would follow like dominoes (dropping to beer glass like a bomb).

This never fails to amaze your boss for some reason, to see you two do it each time, much to you and Lara’s chagrin. Truthfully, if you’re being asked, you two would wish you weren’t forced to entertain anyone outside office just to have a favorable treatment by the day.

“Y/N” your boss called as he pulled out a newly opened bottle of soju to your direction, handing out your glass politely to him as a reflex. “You really did a great job with your presentation; I really like it! Don’t be too shy alright? You deserve to celebrate!”

“Thank you, sir,” you turned away from his direction and downed the alcohol in one go, respectfully showing everyone on the table that you’ve accepted the harsh reality of the need to kiss ass so you could get cash.

“Too bad, Hoseok’s not here. He’ll probably have fun” Hoseok’s boss, who joined your team, commented while watching you have another at your boss’s behest. You nodded to his direction, to feign agreement. Considering the amount of alcohol he could bear in a single night, of course not, he definitely would not have fun.

“Y/N” someone murmured on the table, after your boss moved his attention to the recently hired employees. You turned around and saw Lara staring at you “Y/N” she repeated.

“Yeah?” you raised an eyebrow clearly befuddled to hear her and have your attention.

“I know you can’t handle alcohol well, just gently decline next time he offers. He has more people to oppress now” she lowered herself so you could hear her clearer and puck her lips subtly to point at the poor new recruits.

“Oh, I thought you said you didn’t want to be friends with a slut like me? Are we also going to pretend I didn’t hear that too?” you whispered back

“Whatever, just don’t come hurling at everybody and then throw up”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you”

She was right. She’s always right. By the time you downed an nth shot of soju or whatever it is they gave you (and add that fancy cocktail you wanted to try on their menu) your surroundings gradually revolve and appeared hazy. Somehow, you decided to take drunken shots of the bar and record random moments for you to post something on your social media account. Nothing too wild or nasty, just enough to flash for your friends online that you were having a great time on another Friday night.

“Y/N, is it okay if you come with me to the restroom and help with something?” Lara asked distinctly from her seat, loud enough to hear your superiors to cut you lose from drinking.

You nodded submissively, plopping down from the stool and followed Lara. By the time you two arrived at the girl’s restroom you quickly went into the nearest cubicle and threw yourself against the toilet and vomited.

“I told you so, even Hannah Montana can’t get the best of both worlds. Y/N, stop acting tough.” She crouched down and held your hair up while patting your back.

“I’m feeling fantastic Lara!” you deadpan reply while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Okay, you are welcome” she rolled her eyes while burrowing something from your bag, then you heard something thud. Suddenly everything went blank.

The smell of musk, leather and a little bit of smoke. The feeling of the heat of a skin nudging on your nose. Your hands pressed against someone else’s chest, and the air breezing under the soles of your feet, as if you were levitating. You blinked your eyes twice and opened it wide from your stupor… finding yourself in the middle of the busy street of Itaewon.

You shook your head a little and realized you were resting on someone’s back. “Don’t move too much, you are starting to get heavy?” said someone in a timbre filled with objection.

You knew that voice, and you knew that scent too well too “Yoongi?” you asked weakly.

“Are you gonna throw up? Just tell me…”

“Yoongi, why are you…” you shook your head, that wasn’t the right question “Why are we here?”

“You butt-dialled me, it’s been so long since you called so I thought you’d invite me over but I only heard random noises then it ended… Until you began sending me weird pictures in the dark. So, I was kind of worried and called… But it was your officemate who answered and just told me to come pick you up”

“My what?” you asked, trying to process everything you heard.

“Know what? You’re too drunk to have this conversation and so I’m just going to take you home. Don’t move too much, you are slipping” he paused for a moment while he jerked to keep him adjusted to the weight that he is carrying. “Cutie from the 18th floor huh?” you heard him snickered as he asked.

“You saw my phone?”

“No, your officemate told me. Actually she asked me if I was ‘Cutie from the 18th floor?’ She apologized instantly because she didn’t know how to address me when I came to the bar to pick you up”

“Okay, that’s it. Put me down!” you tried to shimmy your body away from him

“Are you sure about that? She took your shoes from you; said she’ll leave it on your desk tomorrow”

“God…Must be Lara…”

“Is she the best friend you told me about before?”

“Yeah…”

“She’s worried about you”

“Mmm. Right.” You shut your eyes from the blinding neon lights passing from your sight.

“…Hold on to me tight” he reminded, as you reluctantly wrapped your arms around him while he trudged with you on his back.

In clear disorientation, right in the midst of the crowd, you wonder—why above all things, he is carrying you home without any question. Slowly, you closed your eyes and sighed while clutching on his chest a little bit tighter. You rest your head again on his shoulder, burrowing your nose on the fabric of his shirt. (Not to be weird, but if someone demanded what you’re doing at a gun point you wouldn’t think twice confessing that he genuinely smells so good, and that’s the whole reason) Somehow, whatever this was, it made you feel at ease.

And he wasn’t complaining.

“Y/N…Y/N” Yoongi rouse you from your mini-slumber “We’re here, we’re at your front door” He gently put you down on the floor and help you stand upright, waiting for you to enter your apartment so he could drop you home with his conscience at peace.

You crouched down and narrowed your eyes while pressing on the numbers on your door lock, offering it with great effort.

‘Access Denied’ it buzzed.

“Shit!” cursing on your poor concentration to get it right.

Yoongi sighed “Whisper me the number code, and I’ll do it for you”

“What? And enter any time while I’m sleeping?” you replied while unnecessarily glaring at him.

“Okay, that’s it… I can leave you here or you can stay at my place…” he put his waist on each side of his waist, like an old lady giving you an ultimatum.

“Fine... it’s wait…” You pointed a finger to Yoongi and pulled out your phone, pressing down the number sequence on the screen but in full labor. Yoongi, who was losing the endmost ounce of his patience, finally pulled you up to drag you back to the elevator lobby of your floor.

“Okay, okay, it’s 5991!” you spoke harshly, demanding him to put you down. Yoongi quickly turned around, to see if anyone heard. Fortunately, no one was around your hallway to hear you blurt your code so casually. He then swiftly pressed the numbers and opened your door and pulled you in.

“Oh! I forgot my RFID is on my wallet” you raised your hand belatedly after being dragged by Yoongi inside your apartment “Wait, what? You could’ve told me this earlier!” he groaned in utmost frustration, while helping pull your blazer off and beginning to question his choices in life.

“Yoongi” you grin at him with your eyes barely open “it’s been a while yeah? I miss your cock! Let’s have sex!” you squeaked quite happily. He then dropped you pretty harshly on the bed, not that you mind since you were too inebriated to care. “Mmm. Are you into rough play tonight Mr. Hit-song Producer, sir?” You reached for him, tracing your fingers against his shirt.

“I’m not…” he replied directly, rejecting your advances while he turned away from you busily searching for something. “… unfortunately for you miss, I don’t get turned on with drunken girls on the bed. Scurry over and try to seat on your back on the head board”

Obediently, you followed his demands despite not making sense, or at least because you are too drunk to comprehend anything. You shut your eyes waiting for him to do something to you until you felt something damp on your face “Yoongi?” you slowly opened your eyes.

“I am taking the liberty…Close your eyes” he asked sternly. It was beginning to make sense now.

“Are you helping me clean up?” you asked, feeling him gently brush your eyes with a damp facial cotton. “How’d you know which one is a makeup remover?”

“I’m not dumb, Y/N. I can read” he adjusted himself to mildly take your mascara off you. Flustered, you begin to turn your head slightly away from him. As if in a snap, the effect of alcohol was beginning to wane. Just because of the thought that Yoongi was doing things for you that you never expected. “Y/N, look I’m trying!” he clicked his tongue by pressing his thumb and index finger on your chin, securing you steadily “I heard, it’s not good to sleep with a makeup on… there’s a good chance you’ll turn blind from bacteria build-up if this is left unclean for hours”

“Says, who?” trying to dissipate the towering feeling of being embarrassed. “Your ex?”

“No, the idols I get to work with who came in late. They were trying to justify their tardiness because of their face after a night of drinking. Honestly, who cares? They have a lot of fans who love them”

“It’s a girl thing, you’ll never understand”

Smoothing another batch of damp cotton on your cheeks, he finished the conversation by telling you “Well, I do. You are pretty even without it…” he said while dabbing one last time on the side of your lips until you felt his thumb pressed on the edge of your lips.

Yoongi froze, did he just? He started to wonder. You slowly opened your eyes to see his face close to yours, just a few inches away from each other's lips. He cleared his throat and immediately shifted himself away from you again, keeping distance. “Good night, Y/N”

You watched him turn his back and dimmed the lights off your room, leaving only with a soft glimmer from your bedside lamp. Feeling stunned at the chain of events, you cowered down to see your clothes still on and your chest beating heavily. You jerked and shook your head reminding yourself that ‘No, we refuse to be your victim, Yoongi’. Then you felt it, clearly your body is still jaded, realizing on its own that you still had too much alcohol in your system. So, you tried to hurry over to your bathroom, only to find your face falling flat on the floor.

Gratefully, Yoongi hasn’t completely left you yet. When he heard, he abruptly went to check on you in your room. “Just how many have you had?” he helped you up and hiked you over to the toilet. You immediately hurled yourself to it and threw whatever you had in you. He groaned mournfully, while patting your back. He knew the answer to his queries, he’s going to need to stay by your place for the night.

And he did, but on your couch. He thought, it would be awkward to be placing himself beside you on your bed if you two are not having sex. Thankfully, your couch had enough space for him to lie down, yet he couldn’t seem to find his sleep. Not when he began questioning himself as to why you had him worried for the night, he shifts to the side staring blankly on your ceiling deeply sighing at the thought. He wished he knew.

The sound of fizzle, the touch of your dried lips, and the scent of butter, emanating from the kitchen towards your room. All of those, woke your senses. You looked at your phone and find it’s 7am on Saturday. Normally, Hoseok would gladly walk into your apartment to send you over hung-over foods, but guessing at the fact that he’d be with a lady friend you assumed he’d be unavailable for you in a time of need…. And cooking? Hoseok cooking? For the longest time you two had been together as friends, he never once attempted to put himself in the kitchen. So what changes?

You took your satin robe and swiftly wrapped it around to see who it was in your kitchen. You ran out of your room with a pillow on your hand and shrieked at the familiar figure. It was Yoongi cooking in your kitchen

He pulled out his airpods and asked “What, were you calling me?”

“No, I just… I didn’t expect you’d still... be here…Are you cooking?”

“Um, yeah, why are you always asking the obvious?” he knitted his brows, eyes darting from left to right, perplexed to even answer your query. “Look, why don’t you sit down and let Chef Min do the cooking for today”

You silently sat on your island stool and watched him prepare food. “Is this what you do to everyone you sleep with?”

He stifled a smile and pursed his lips to think. “I wish I did. Unfortunately, no. Just you, for now”

You folded your arm and poked your tongue from the inside of your cheek “Well you can’t do this…”

“Huh?” He asked with his back to you, busily chopping more onions and garlic then mixing it to the cooking pan.

“Rules.”

“Rules? What part of the agreement is cooking prohibited? If my memory serves me right, you failed to mention it, so I guess this is pretty legal”

“Okay, fair point. Then why are you doing this? On my apartment, on my kitchen, on my food? Is it all for me?”

Yoongi was taken aback, but he needed to answer promptly “What, you think I’m starting to like you more than a neighbor�� with benefits?” he scoffed “Such confidence, woman” he turned around to snicker, playfully flailing his arm with a cooking chopstick on hand.

“I’m sorry but I can’t help it” you merrily bemoan in retrospect and shrugged. “Didn’t you say you’ve always fancied me?”

“Naked, I fancied you naked” he corrected.

“I don’t know, sounds the same to me” You watched him perfectly toss the food while cooking, like a pro. “Hmm, impressive. Are you trying to make me weak on my knees?”

“Well, are you?” he asked stoically, as he turned the stove off and finally served you a hung-over breakfast he made out from the ingredients available in your refrigerator.

“Almost, but not quite” you playfully bite your lip, fretfully eating your smile.

“You’re welcome for the breakfast Y/N” he winked, putting his share on a plate and sat on a stool right in front of you.

“Thank you, Chef Min Yoongi” you ducked your head, to tamper down whatever you were feeling in the morning. You weren’t a prayerful person but today you decided to whisper one from your seat. You needed it, a whole of it, before chowing down your freshly cooked food made by the Chef himself in front of you. Testing you by the minute.

He watched you while you shut your eyes and chant something inaudibly, and without you knowing-- he smiled.

“Min PD nim?” one of the staff knocked on his door. Yoongi, as usual, was busy listening to the tracks he made from last week now that it is back to being Monday again.

“Han Young-woo-ssi said he wanted to talk to you sir…”

“Oh, what about?” He abruptly stopped and turned to face her.

“It sounded like it’s a personal matter sir… so I didn’t ask him any further. He is waiting outside your office sir, would you like me to tell him to come back after lunch?”

He shook his head “No-no, it’s fine. I am a little bit stressed too, I was just looking for the right lyrics to the melody but maybe talking to him might help” he went out from his seat and decided to see his visitor from the same company but in the Accounting department. Was it about his demands against the company for paying for his daily coffee needs? Or was it about denying his request to fund him for another set stereos?

“Yoongi! My friend!” Young-woo delightedly extends his arm to give him a quick hug and pat on his back.

“Hey Han!” he sat on the couch and Young-woo followed, sitting on a chair adjacent to Yoongi.

“What brings you here?”

“Well, I saw you last Saturday night in the streets of Itaewon”

He chuckled “Yeah, I decided to do some carrying as part of my daily workout routine”

Young-woo nods solemnly “I know the person you were carrying. She’s bad news…”

He furrowed his eyebrows, pausing for a moment to comprehend the sudden change of his tone.

“I knew her from college, she’s been sleeping with a lot of men... maybe until now. Just avoid her if you can. She might give you STDs or something… Just stop Yoongi. I don’t know if it’s because she slept with Seokjin? Which probably made her impertinently bold and decides to slut around”

Yoongi thwarted him from finishing his sentence. “Seokjin? You mean Kim Seokjin?”

“Yes, your high school best friend and my frat brother, Seokjin. Did he never tell you about her?”

“He mentioned a few girls, but I don’t remember her being mentioned at all.”

“Well, I guess it’s because she’s not worth mentioning”

Yoongi pressed his fingers on his temple “Do you really see girls that way, Young-woo?”

Young-woo was left fazed at his question “I-Uh…”

“Cut to the chase Young-woo, I have a lot of things on my table. It’s not my cup of tea to entertain sexist conversation especially during working hours…”

“I’m just warning you. As friend, that’s it”

“Well, if that’s all there is” He stood up and tilted his head, locking his gaze against Young-woo fervently “I’m an adult who knows exactly what I’m doing. It’s none of your business who I want to deal with day and night, unless it’s about work. I appreciate you being worried and all, but clearly at the end of the day I’ll be responsible with who and when I’ll be fucked and who gets to fuck me over.”

Young-woo conceded and sighs from his seat “I love your tenacity, my friend. But she is different from the girls you used to date, especially your ex” he stood up and walked towards the hallway

Yoongi just nodded. “Okay, but that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Past remains in the past. Live in the present brother, worry about your future... not mine. Well there goes the exit door, if that’s really all you have to say to me. I don’t like entertaining sexism as a visitor” he points him through the exit door as he watches Young-woo leave.

He rolled his eyes, regretting the fact that he gave Young-woo his precious time so conveniently, just to listen to a back story he was clearly uninterested in. What’s the point really? If everyone is living now in the present, what’s there to huddle over in the past? One thing’s for sure, he’s going to spend a few more minutes at the receiving area to look at his phone and find some inspiration over his social media.

Randomly scrolling, he ended up in Seokjin’s profile, entertaining himself with his random pictures with witty captions, illustrations of cute alpacas and his daily dad jokes on his Instagram stories. His eyes suddenly widened when he shifted it to the next photograph and saw a familiar face from Seokjin’s story.

“Was it true?” he breathed.

“Yeah, that sounds about right, I assure you Madame Song. Tomorrow is going to be epic” you nodded.

“I’m looking forward to it Ms. Y/N” she giggled, standing up from her seat, ready to leave.

You did the same and bowed before your client, displaying your gratitude and respect. You took a quick glance from the window beside the seat and saw the sun glaring hard on the pavement “Are you sure, is it really okay if you leave right now? Didn’t you say you just had your facial? The sun is pretty hard. Do you at least have an umbrella?”

“Oh, do you? Sorry I forgot mine, can I borrow? I promise to return it to you tomorrow” she asked a bit warily. Of course, they never do.

“Sure” you pulled out your foldable umbrella from your bag and handed it to her.

“Thanks dear. Oh, if you must, bring your plus one” she winked.

You dropped your head and chuckled “C’mon Madame Song, you know I don’t do plus one. I’ll ask Lara to cover that for me instead”

She paused. Her attention was momentarily stolen by something, or someone in front of the cafe window “Well, why don’t you go ask him?” she puckered her lips and pointed out towards the man entering inside the café from its door way.

“What?” you chuckled in disbelief “I can’t just go ask a random stranger and tell-- ” you turned around to see who she was referring to, until you stopped mid-sentence choking on your words.

A man in black shirt, black leather jacket, and a black baseball cap? It must be….

“Seokjin?”

He turned around to see who was calling him “Y/N?” He raised both his brows in genuine surprise.

“Mm...Seems, everything’s pretty planned out now don’t you think?” Madame Song whispered to you close before leaving you on your own. Grinning from ear to ear, knowing she made a lucky guess to find you a prospect date, who isn’t after all a stranger.

“Hey, it’s been so long! It’s nice to see you here!”

“Must be cupid’s work, huh?” Madame Song winked at you both as she left the cafe with your umbrella. You shook your head a little, embarrassed to hear her tease. Then faced the half-god handsome man before you.

You sat back on your chair and offered Seokjin the vacant seat on the front.

“Hm, I honestly don’t know what to say to that, are you working? Was she a client?” he watched you write something down on your planner for a moment.

“Yeah, and we just finished” you clicked the pen and threw your arms up to stretch “and now I can relax. What’s up Kim?”

“Ikseon-dong is where I usually take my walk for coffee and look for inspiration.I like it here, it’s traditional and yet still a very relevant place” he turned around to look at the menu board, attached above on the counter.

“Ah, I see you’re working too…” you nodded. “You know their dirty chai latte is pretty good.” You pointed it out. “So, how’s your agency treating you? I’ve seen you in TDN channel the other night, and got to the scene where you were crying after being left by Park Shin Hye… that was pretty moving”

He laughed with his eyes wrinkling, charming as always. “It was hard convincing myself to cry over a fictional argument revolving over me leaving a Peanut Butter open for long...”

“In her defense, she thought you were cheating on her over Yoon Eun Hye. But before replying to that, tell me who you will end up with, is it her or Yoon Eun Hye? Because if you asked me Yoon Eun Hye might be evil, but I totally understand where she's coming from. So yeah, I’m Team Yoon Eun Hye all the way!” You lowered yourself on the table and leaned towards him.

He squints his eyes and went forward “Not if you watch until the last episode, or you could bribe me with the most expensive thing on the menu”

You shot at him and sighed “Fine, you leave me no choice Mister Celebrity, sir. One Eggs Benedict and House Coffee, on me” he chuckled, knowing fully that those were the cheapest on the menu.

“It’s nice to know you didn’t change at all, Y/N” he gulped and smiled at you.

“Oh yeah? Don’t be disappointed if you found it to be untrue.” You stood up and ordered something for your old flame, well almost… or so you would like to think, if it wasn’t for his groupies who extinguished before it even began.

You two tried to catch on a lot of things, while taking a few photos together. Seokjin has an insane amount of following, compared to the number he had back in college (but was still considerably huge). Yet he wasn’t bothered at all, he still posted whatever he pleased.

Although he was now hyper-aware of everything online, especially the fact that some things might get him in trouble or even getting others into trouble. He made sure to explain things about what was happening in his caption before posting anything. Just to spare them from unnecessary and unfounded hate from his fans.

“Fancy bumping to a college friend *insert smiley emoji*” he said out loud while mindlessly typing it as he hit the post button.

“Why didn’t you put a sticker on my face?”

“Why should I? I already spare you from being tagged. That way, you can still keep your identity hidden, but this face?” He pouts “Too pretty to be kept away”

You blushed, abruptly shaking your head ready to say something as your defense retorted “Is this your way to get in my pants, now that you’re some big shot?”

He folds his arms and twitches his lips to the corner “You thought so lowly of me, I could’ve dated you. Should’ve asked you out 11 years ago, but I didn’t because I was afraid you’d get in to trouble because of me… yet, still you did”

You paused for a moment. “Seokjin. I—”

He batted his eyes and smiled “That night at the frat party, I was about to ask you... but chickened out last minute. I should be the one saying sorry, Y/N. I wish I was there for you; I could only imagine what your college life might have been. How are you holding it?”

You croaked, left momentarily speechless at the sudden revelation that was gradually unfolding before you “I—I’m fine. Thanks to Hoseok, my life from there became bearable. I’m sure he’s the one who shut all the people who were spreading rumors, he just wouldn’t tell”

He nods. “What if he truly wasn’t? Like maybe, somebody other than Hoseok did it for you?”

“You?” you opened your mouth in disbelief.

“It’s the least I could do. Besides, I’m partly to blame '' His phone suddenly buzzed as he pointed a finger to excuse himself for a moment to receive it. “Hey baby, yeah. I’m just here in Ikseon-dong? I’m in “Flower Yard Cafe” Meet? Where?... Okay. I love you, see you in a bit”

You lump on your lips, suppressing a chuckle. For a moment you thought you had a chance with Mr. WorldWide Handsome himself, but man you were eons late. Certainly, there are many times you want to hurl yourself over him regardless if he actually wants you too.

You were then so close to not giving any more damn to the ladies who would build a fort to push any of his prospects away. Yet maybe that’s how the world works, maybe you don’t deserve all the nice things because that’s how you were designed to live your life… or maybe it’s how the world chastises you for choosing to live a life in debauchery. Either way, You and Seokjin will never happen. That’s pretty much engraved in your destiny, if that’s not obvious enough.

“I’m sorry I got to go, my girlfriend’s having a fit”

“Hm, maybe you should delete your post about us?”

“Girl, you think I’m doing this for you? I want to annoy the girls who shit on my chance with you…”

You laughed. “Hm. Openly flirting with me still? You are playing on dangerous water, sir… How about we try next life Kim, yeah?”

“Ofcourse, just don’t get swoon with my face alone when that happens.”

You nodded in between chuckles as you bid goodbye and watched him leave the cafe. You began fixing your things and putting everything on your handbag when suddenly you heard the sound of drizzle.

“Ugh, should’ve known! That blaring sun definitely looks like it’s gonna invite rain soon... I gave my umbrella to Mrs. Song!” you complained to no one, whining softly from your seat.

Not wanting to spend another hour inside, especially when you needed to send a few paperwork to your boss for a report, you decided to just throw yourselves over the harsh rain “Know what? Fuck it, let’s just run and get wet again” you pushed the door away from you, ready to run while holding on to your handbag that was barely covering your head.

As the door swiveled far, you began to notice that the rain that was supposed to be falling over your head wasn’t just…there. You turned around and found Yoongi. His arms extended to you, holding an umbrella for you. You watched him smile despite slightly getting showered.

“Yoongi?”

“Why are you always asking the obvious? Hey Y/N” He scooted over inside the umbrella, arms pressing and pulling you close to him. His free hand held on to the handle slightly tilted, making sure you remained dry than he is. You stood there, completely frozen. Too stunned to see him at a time when you needed someone.

“You certainly like to get wet often, huh?” he snickered, trying to diffuse the momentary silence.

“It depends on the situation… I-uh… what are you doing here?”

“I was just having a walk. The weather looks good” he subtly gulped, eating his lie. After seeing you on Seokjin’s instagram, he immediately called and asked where he was. Seokjin, knowing Yoongi fully for years, did not bother to ask any more questions as he simply answered where he is currently located.

“Oh yeah?” you tilt your head to look at the dark sky.

“Well, it was, until it suddenly started to rain. Where are you headed?”

“Back in my office, just a few blocks from here. You?”

“What a coincidence, I am too”

“You also work there?” you chuckled

He rolled his eyes and sighed “Okay you got me, just let me take you there unscathed. I’ll go back to strolling around the city looking for inspiration for the song I am working on. But until then, I have to see you get there, so that I could put myself at ease knowing you went to your work completely dry.”

“Aw, that is so gentleman of you. You better credit me when you find that inspiration you were saying” you playfully teased, knowing fully well you’ll give zero contribution to his work.

He chuckled. Making you suck an air to see another gummy smile from him, which he is very frugal of him to do.

“Perhaps I will,” he shrugged, smiling weakly as he faced the street. You swiftly turn to face him, bewildered to see his sincere intent. Will he really? Thoughts were starting to run around your head.

Clearly, when was the last time you’ve been held by a man? Was it yesterday during sex with Jinyoung a fellow regular from the cafe next to your office? Or was it during a dodgeball game during 8th grade where Taecyeon, your crush pulled you away from getting hit by a ball? Or perhaps the time when your father took you in his arms when you got bruised? You could no longer remember, because right in the middle of the rain, underneath the transparent umbrella, you watched the rain fall while Yoongi was there holding you in his arms…and that was all you could think.

For the very first time, you felt safe and secured. It was warm and seemed full of ardent affection. You failed to put words into what you were feeling, because evidently you had nothing on it from your catalog for inner feelings. Yoongi remains to hold onto you close, while continuing to walk on the streets under the heavy rain... And you yielded unto him.

The feeling was so foreign and novel that you were starting to feel scared. You are so afraid of the feeling of this unfamiliarity, and perhaps the thought of it that it might one day become … too familiar.

Suddenly it dawned on you, in this seemingly game of feelings like seesaw, he was now taking the leverage because you were starting to get your high.

And for the first time in years, you were unsure how this would turn out.

A/N: Ahhhh THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GIVING TIME! I can finally share my song inspo for this chapter. I know the lyrics isn’t appropriate to the story, but I was just vibing to this while I was watching this video when I was doing my cardio on a machine. I quickly thought of THAT scene and I was all too UwU the whole time. Anyway, hope you all have a great day! THANKING MY BETA READER FOR GIVING HER PRECIOUS TIME FOR THIS 🙃 love you! you know who you are 😉

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years ago

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Hope (Ethan x f!MC)

Summary: Ethan and Pooja's thoughts before and after the first time Pooja goes to his home (Set in Book 1, Chapter 8)

A/N: Never thought I would be able to complete this, but here we are! Honestly it is a mess, but I still hope it is an enjoyable mess😃

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Rating: General

Word Count: around 1.7K

Category: Kinda angsty (??)

Trope(s): And there’s some good ol’ Pining

Warnings: None that I noticed

Ethan:

There was a strange calm in the sky, the moon sparkling milky white. Seconds seemed to drift slowly with gentle ripples, like rose petals floating on a calm pond.

And amidst this ataraxy, was a restless, defeated heart. Every pass of a second seemed like a stab in his already wounded soul, breaking him, making him lose in the game which he thought he had mastered.

The red glare of the traffic light felt like a warning but he was too tired to notice.

He let his mind recall the moments the day brought, throat tightening at one and mind filling with surprise at the other.

How easy it was to tell her about Naveen.

As if it wasn't a conscious decision, just him uttering words prophecied. And how naturally she had offered to help him.

As if they were words practised. Repeated a hundred times in front of a mirror.

In a time when one hand was slowly leaving him, another one was gently lending hers.

Never in years had he thought he would be this enamoured by an intern.

Every word she uttered, every task she accomplished, every case she handled. It felt like she was climbing a staircase of differences, slowly cracking the image of doe-eyed amateurs idolizing him.

An image that had become a constant in front of him.

It was a ploy of the universe, surely, that had twisted the circumstances to be like they were now. Otherwise what would have had the power to unite three generations of mentors and mentees together like that in a single motion?

As the sand from the sand clock kept drifting away slowly, he started to arrange the strings of thoughts in his mind into a neat yarn, all ready to knit the cardigan of recounting the disaster that he had stored like a dried leaf from fall in between yellow pages of an old journal.

There was a chilling silence around him, even if the traffic shrieked chaos outside.

It made him second guess everything, making him think as if he was supposedly making the biggest mistake of his life.

The glare of red seemed to get stronger, almost blinding, painful. He tried to place convincing statements, that he was just letting a doctor know the nitty-gritty of a medical case seemingly impossible to solve. So that he can dream of that ray of sunshine filtering through large boulder-like grey clouds.

So that he can hope.

And every time it struck him that he had been choosing to look at that sparkle instead of the black gloom spread all around because she was in this with him, he felt a numb spread through his soul.

He knew he was letting her in, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Rather, there was nothing he wanted to do about it.

It frightened him, this closeness, this letting go of a cloak of seclusion that he had been wearing for years now.

Why did life have to make him stand at crossroads, make a choice he didn't want to?

It felt as if somebody had made a path of clouds for him to reach the sun, and every time he took a step, he fell. He had never complained about it, living silently in the piercing darkness that held him within its confines.

But this one while, he wanted to shriek. He wanted to complain. He wanted to go against every force of nature that stopped him. Because this time it wasn't just a wish.

It was a need for him.

Unbeknownst to him, the lights flickered and change positions. The red seized to exist and the green came into existence, and it was a glare from behind him that finally made him notice the change.

Barely stopping the overflowing dam of heartfelt emotions, that had finally managed to break the walls he had built piece by piece, with precision, over the years, he rushed past blurry sky-risers, taking a step towards whatever destiny had in store for him.

-----

Pooja:

When she opens her wardrobe, her first instinct is to go for that chic dress she bought some time ago. The thought is quickly followed by a mental forehead smack, and she goes for a casual, everyday outfit instead.

When she followed him into the area of repairs, she would have never guessed that a simple follow of curiosity would spiral into this. She, an intern, going to the home of Dr Ethan Ramsey.

She wondered if it has ever happened before & if it would ever happen again. The answer flashed before she even had the time to ponder. It was a No.

Tying her hair in a casual ponytail, she let out a yawn, a reminder of the long day at work, and of the secret that was trapped in the labyrinths of her mind, threatening to come out anytime.

Bits of the conversation that had got imprinted on the film rolls of her mind, played continuously in a loop, reminding her of the responsibility that rested on her shoulder. The trust that he had placed on her.

She couldn't let him down.

When in hushed, muted tones, he had asked her for the promise, she had given it to him without a thought. She couldn't let him break. She couldn't let him lose.

She couldn't let him down.

Like a mantra, she let the words repeat over and over and over again until they got etched in her heart. And then, with an attempt to centre herself, she walked on to the destination she was supposed to reach.

-----

Ethan:

The cool for the air-conditioning unit covered the entire area, as the clock pleasantly ticked in a monotonous harmony.

The blue ocean of his eyes was in turmoil, waves of reason and feelings crashing against each other, ravaging a storm. The ship of his stood through it all, but he was afraid that any moment now, it would reach its breaking point.

In the distance was a clearing in the sky. A stray ray of gold attracted him, and he went on, never stopping for once. It was her presence.

He couldn't tell if they were words knitted with excruciating perfection with yarns of her heart, or a piece of cloth she had bought and handed over to him, neatly so that he doesn't notice.

But for once, he wanted to believe in the words her mellifluous voice scribbled in the air. For once, he wanted to hold on to that ray, which the clouds of fate threatened to hide.

For once, he wanted to hope.

It felt as if his search was over. A wind had finally gained the power to carry away the blanket of misery and pain that had been surrounding him for years now.

Maybe the forces of nature had finally decided to grant him the wish he made to a shooting star when he was a kid and gifted him with the most precious treasure anyone could ever ask for.

All she did was place a hand on his thigh, but it felt as if she had dragged him from the darkness to the bright sunshine, holding his hand in hers, making him relish the soft touches of flowers petals and rustle of hair along with the gentle breeze.

Is this how it felt to slowly travel through the meadows of affection, gathering flowers of trust, hope and respect to make the bouquet of his heart? One that he had given to her without telling her anything, today?

Is this how it felt to fall in love?

He closed his eyes as if to stop the circle of thoughts that had taken a direction he had been avoiding for a long time without his permission. The gardens his soul was paying a visit to, was dangerous tranquillity, a threatening calm.

And he was afraid, that one wrong step could burn down the entire world of two lives that had got intertwined without each other's knowledge.

He was not ready to take the risk.

-----

Pooja:

The pages of her journal rustled in neglect as she continued twirling the pen in her hand.

She was supposed to be writing in the details of this day, but instead all she could do was recollect fragments of all the conversations she had had during the past hours. A few tendrils of her hair playfully danced in the wind, as she got up and went to stand on the balcony.

She let the milky white shimmer dress her, soothe her as the future stood in a tangled yarn of uncertainty, too difficult to reach.

There was a pain getting etched in her heart, as it sobbed silently for her mentor and grand mentor. Was there really no way out?

A quick whisper from the demon of self-doubt told her that if The Ethan Ramsey could not solve the mystery, how could she, a doe-eyed intern?

She shook her head as if to throw the thought away. This wasn't the time of comparing whose skill set was better than whose. If she had dared to awake a lamp of hope in Dr Ramsey's heart, how could she give up on attempts herself?

In tumultuous times, when there were more chances of defeat than success, she wanted to bear the flambeau of hope that can light even the darkest of nights. She wanted to be the force that would make him rethink his abilities and try again after every failure.

She wanted to be the picture that could fill his heart with hope.

And she knew that it would take every ounce of her strength. Keeping the situation a secret from friends who had always had her back. Always looking at the bright side. Always bearing optimism.

When she had uttered "Promise" to him in the hallway in the morning, she knew what she was signing up for. This time, she would have to be the strength of herself and him. She would have to be the ear he could always whisper to. The shoulder he could always lay his head on. The hand he could always hold when he felt like letting go and giving up.

But she was ready to give it all. No matter how threatening, no matter how dangerous.

She was ready to take the risk.

PS: If you are reading this, I am very grateful for you. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day🤎

Tags🤎 (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @izzyourresidentlawyer @phoenixrising308 @adiehardfan @quixoticdreamer16 @a-crepusculo @cordonianruby @gryffindordaughterofathena

Ethan x Pooja: @aleynareads @choicesaddict5 @stygianflood @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey @takemyopenheart @mm2305 @kit-rookie-princess

Open Heart (All fics and edits): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010 @headoverheelsforramsey @estellaelysian @shanzay44 @mysticalgalaxysstuff

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

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lahyene · 4 years ago

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Chemistry Read.

Pairing: chris evans x celeb!reader

Summary: You’ve been casted as Chris’ love interest in an upcoming movie he’s not only acting in but directing himself. He calls you over to run lines, but you soon find out he wants to do a little more than that to prepare for filming.

Themes: smut

Word count: 1537

Your heart is racing as you knock on the door of the upscale LA apartment owned by none other than Chris Evans himself, the director and lead actor of the upcoming movie you’ve been selected to play the female lead in.

You only met him a handful of times. He was there during the casting process, of course, and you had to have a chemistry read with him. You could still remember the way he gazed at you with those perfect blue eyes, as if you were the only girl in the world- he’s dangerous, and you’re reminding yourself of that now as you hear the footsteps approach the front door.

But when he opens it and looks down at you with those rugged features and charming smile, any warning from your conscience is thrown out the window. If this was a cartoon, you would have a puddle of drool at your feet by now. He looks ridiculously handsome in a steel grey henley that fits his muscle just right, a pair of dark jeans, and a Red Sox cap atop his fluffy brown hair.

“Hey,” you greet with a smile, barely tugging on your lower lip with your teeth. “Sorry I’m a little late. LA traffic, you know how it is.”

“Oh, do I.” He scoffs, gesturing for you to come inside. “Just another reason as to why I miss Boston everyday. I mean, sure, we get a little road rage from time to time, but at least we know how to keep it movin’.” He laughs softly and you do too, already feeling at ease despite his intimidatingly good looks. “Thanks for coming here to run lines, though. Can I get ya a drink or anything?”

“Just a water is fine, thanks.” You reply with a smile, unzipping your purse to take your script out. “So, uh, was there any scene in particular you wanted to go over?”

“Honestly, I was thinking we should go over the more intimate scenes.” He answers truthfully, going into the kitchen to retrieve your water from the fridge. “I mean, it’s clear we’re killing it with the light, romantic, sugary sweet stuff, ya know?” He comes back with a small grin, handing you the bottle. “And I hear it’s your first time doing more... explicit scenes in a movie?”

Your heart is beating faster solely from the thought of doing anything explicit with Chris, but you force yourself to look composed, smiling slightly. “To be honest, this movie has a lot of firsts for me. I’m more used to modeling than acting, but I’m so grateful to have this chance. I’ve wanted to be an actress ever since I was little.”

“That’s right, that’s right,” Chris nods, and you swear you notice his pacific hues rake over your body. “I remember seeing your pictures during casting. You mainly model lingerie, right?” He smiles, head tilting slightly. “So you’ll probably already feel more comfortable in front of the camera in... well, next to nothing.” He laughs, but you don’t miss the way he bites his lip, the sight in itself making you feel thirsty for more than just water.

Did he really call you here just to run lines?

“Yeah, I’m pretty used to it.” You answer, your voice a little softer than before as your mind begins plotting. After taking a sip of the water, you set it down on the table. “But it’s not just about the camera, right? It’s also important to be comfortable with the person you’re working with.” You look up at him innocently, barely raising an eyebrow. “So maybe we should really get into character, huh?”

Chris blinks, but the corner of his lips tug upwards ever-so-slightly into a tiny smirk as he looks at you with intrigue and curiosity. “What exactly were you thinking?”

You pick up the script again, flipping to the right page. “Well, for instance,” you answer nonchalantly, “there’s a scene where our characters are making out- but we’re both naked, because we just went skinny dipping.”

Chris’ smirk is getting slightly wider as he walks backwards, sitting down on the couch with his jean clad legs barely spread, his thick thighs looking more welcoming than ever as if waiting for you to sit upon them. “Right. So what are you proposing here?”

You bite your lip as you admire his manly stature before placing the script down, taking hold of the hem of your tank top and pulling it up over your head. You’re making a bold move here, but Hollywood likes bold. And from the way Chris is staring at you in complete awe and hunger, it appears he likes bold too. You’re not done yet, though- you reach behind to unhook your bra, letting it drop to the floor. His blue-green eyes widen slightly before a husky curse escapes from under his breath, his large hands immediately reaching to yank his own shirt off, his hat falling off with it. “C’mere,” he mutters hastily, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you to his lap, eliciting a delighted squeal from your lips.

“I don’t think that’s how the script goes,” you barely have time to tease before he pulls you in for a kiss, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck with his fingers tangled in your hair.

He chuckles darkly in between steamy kisses, moving his other hand up to squeeze and grope your breasts as if practically worshiping them. “You said we should get comfortable with each other first, right? I think that’s exactly what we’re doing here...”

You can’t help but hum and whimper in satisfaction as he plays with your breasts, your hands moving up so you can run your fingers through his hair as you continue your heated make out session. It isn’t long before you find his belt, unbuckling it and tossing it aside, lifting your hips so both of you can remove your pants and underwear.

“Did you actually intend on running lines, Chris?” you ask with a breathless giggle, curling your fingers around his thick shaft as you rub it up and down.

He lets out a deep and guttural groan, tilting his head back while he bucks his hips slightly. “I... really did want to, for at least a little bit... but... fuck,” he’s practically panting, teeth tugging at his lip harshly from the enjoyment your hand is giving him, “Ever since we first cast you, and since I saw your pictures... shit, I needed you. You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever fuckin’ seen...”

“Little ol’ me?” you whisper, rubbing faster and enjoying the pleasured expressions twisting his handsome face. “Well, I’m flattered, seeing how many A-listers you know...”

“Shit, baby.” He growls, giving you an urgent look of desperation. “I need to be inside you right fuckin’ now.”

As much as you want to tease, you’re only torturing yourself here. You look around, breathing out, “Do you have a-”

“First drawer,” he immediately answers, nodding towards the chest beside the couch. You giggle slightly and lean over, opening it and taking out a condom, removing the wrapper and slowly sliding it along his impressive shaft.

“You’re so big,” you murmur, lifting your hips and teasing him by rubbing your wet core against his tip. “You’re going to stretch me out so much...”

“Fuck,” he groans, gripping your waist, “I can’t wait, baby girl.”

You sink yourself down onto his swollen head, a moan erupting from your throat as you grip his biceps tightly, eyes closing as you feel him already enter deep inside you. “Holy... holy fuck, Chris...!”

He smirks breathlessly as he watches you bounce on his cock, his massive hands supporting your waist and helping you move as well, his chest heaving with his breaths. “Shit, it’s like your pussy was fuckin’ made for me, honey. You feel so goddamn good!”

Your moans grow louder as his hands find your ass, squeezing and groping and smacking every chance he gets. You can’t help but marvel over the beautiful sight underneath you, from his perfect facial hair, lust filled blue eyes, huge arms, and toned abdomen. You arch your back to get a better angle, leaning forward as your breasts bounce right under his nose- he gladly begins to kiss and suck on them as he thrusts himself upwards, wanting to fill you up as much as he possibly can.

“Fuck....! Chris, I’m gonna....”

“Me too, baby, holy fuck, me too!”

You both find your release, your mouth open as you practically gasp for breath, running a hand through your slightly dampened hair as you slowly lift yourself off him. He helps you steady yourself before removing the condom, walking away to dispose of it- you can’t help but stare at his beautiful frame, eyes lingering over the chiseled muscle of his back and dropping to his infamous nude ass. You lean back against the couch, trying to catch your breath again.

He comes back and chuckles, picking up your water bottle and handing it to you, shaking the sweat out of his brown hair. “You know, I think this was way more productive than any chemistry read or rehearsal I’ve ever had...”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut

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capondi · 3 years ago

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In love there are two things– bodies and words

I didn't think I was going to write anything for Valentine's, because I just couldn't think of anything. But I wanted to put something out there, and since I've never written for James Lewis before... So have some James x F!reader fluff!

TW: Slight mention of canon alcoholism

James added another bullet-point to the board to keep his discussion of The Canterbury Tales on track as a student read their assigned excerpt in a gripping monotone. Finished, he turned around to look out over the room.

Subtle movements caught his eye, and he spied a note being passed beneath the desks toward the front of the class. He sighed quietly. Would they ever realize that he was even more aware of their shenanigans when he had nothing to do but watch and listen? He walked casually down the aisle until he was a couple of feet from a girl who took the note from the person behind her, and, reading the name on the front, smiled privately to herself.

“Anything to share with the rest of the class?”

The girl jumped, embarrassed, and shook her head as she hid the note in her lap. He wasn’t trying to be mean, and he certainly wasn’t going to read her love letter to the class, but he was quite frankly so very tired of the distraction running rampant in his classes.

“Mm-hm. Listen, if I catch anyone else not paying attention then all of you will be receiving an extra assignment, is that understood?” He directed the last part to the entire class, who now all avoided his eyes. Good.

He gestured for the student to keep reading, and returned to his spot behind his desk.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He watched the students file out after the bell, nodding and smiling at those who acknowledged him. The second the room had emptied he allowed himself a moment to bury his head in his hands and squeeze his eyes shut. He was exhausted. The past couple of weeks had been trying to say the least: working over revisions with his editor had reignited his insecurities as a writer, which had done nothing to ease his AA sessions. Last week he had found himself staring at his old go-to liquor store for so long that the traffic light had turned green, and the car behind him had to honk to get his attention.

That day had been a toughie, to say the least. When he got home he quietly wrapped his arms around you until you walked him to the sofa, holding him close and stroking his hair. He was lucky to have you as his rock- even though you had made him stop saying he was “lucky” out loud, he still said it in his head.

One more class, and he could leave, he consoled himself. He looked out at the hall teeming with students, some holding single red roses. Really, how was he supposed to keep a room of hormonal teenagers engaged with Chaucer on Valentine’s of all days?

Something clicked in his head and suddenly it was like his every bodily function had frozen.

Valentine’s Day.

He picked up his phone and stared at the February 14 on his lock screen like a man staring at the date of his own execution.

How had he forgotten about Valentine’s Day? But it wasn’t like he had forgotten it, really, just that it had left as little impact on his otherwise-occupied mind than fucking Arbor Day. He had gone two straight years without acknowledging it, and even in his last year with Sarah their relationship had been so on the rocks that it had been a token gesture, if that.

But now he had truly fucked up. Wasn’t he supposed to be intelligent?

He knew what a crapshow last-minute Valentine’s plans were. Beginning to panic, he started by calling for a reservation at the first place you and James had ever dined out. Booked solid. He tried four more restaurants with the same result (one had even laughed at him).

He went through the motions of his last class mechanically, and all but bolted to his car. He checked his phone for local florists, and found them all closed for the day. Made sense. He drove to the more high-end grocery store in town, and found himself in a queue of other sad saps who were eyeing up the wilted remains of the floral section. The candy aisle was similarly wiped out.

He could probably search every grocery store and gift shop until nightfall and still find nothing better.

He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. He decided that nothing at all was better than a thoughtless, rushed, half-assed gift. You didn’t deserve that from him. If only he was a half-way decent cook he might be able to make something work there. He would just have to apologize, and promise to make it up to you later.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Pulling up his driveway as the sun started to set, James tried to run through the words he would use to salvage this trainwreck. Some wordsmith he was. He got out of his car and slowly approached the door. He had almost reached the handle when the panic began to set in again. He should have gotten something. Idiot. He nearly turned back around when the sound of the television reached him from inside. It was from that cheesy sitcom the two of you had started watching together as a guilty pleasure. His heart swelled at the thought of putting his arm around your shoulder and laughing at the predictable gags together.

So he opened the door.

He found you on the sofa, your legs curled up on the seat and holding a bowl of cereal. It wasn’t far from dinner time, and neither of you were strict about eating your meals together with your sometimes clashing schedules. But he felt guilty to think that you hadn’t even expected to be treated to a fancy dinner tonight.

You turned your head to look up at him briefly. “Hey, sweetie,” you greeted him with a smile, before facing the TV again. He walked up to the back of the couch, hands fidgeting. His mouth refused to form words, so he leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

He was quiet for so long that you sensed something was up, and you turned a little.

“What’s wrong?” Concern laced your voice, too familiar with his bad days.

His voice was muffled in your neck. “I’m sorry, babe.”

You muted the TV. “Sorry for what?”

“IforgotaboutValentine’sDay.”

“What?”

James took a breath, bit the bullet: “I forgot about Valentine’s Day.”

“James-” you turned around so you were on your knees on the couch, hands reaching for his shoulders. “It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting anything.”

His eyes dropped guiltily. You really had lowered your expectations for him. Of course. You tilted his head back up to look at you, clearly desperate to reassure him.

“It’s just one stupid day. Y’know, a capitalist holiday designed to get people to waste their money…” You laughed, but James grimaced.

“That’s what single people and people with shitty boyfriends say.”

A silence followed for a few moments. He gulped, and looked away again. He was thinking of how he had mostly avoided the words “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”. For a man his age, once a husband, to be a “boyfriend” was a kind of regression. Maybe he just wasn’t any good at this relationship thing.

“James.” You waited until he looked back up to continue, your tone now more serious.

“You are not a shitty boyfriend. I wasn’t expecting anything because I don’t need anything but you.”

Before he could make another negative retort you pulled him forward and kissed him, and you didn’t stop until you had him leaning part-way over the back of the couch. At this point you grabbed him by his tie and pulled him inelegantly over onto the seats, where he sprawled on top of you. You both laughed, and when you reached for the remote to presumably unmute the TV, he snatched it from your hands and turned it off instead.

He might not have flowers and candy and steak dinners to offer, but he still had a few ideas of how to make the night special

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Thank you for reading!

#james lewis #james lewis teacher #james lewis x reader #my fic #my writing #david dastmalchian

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star-lemonade · 4 years ago

Text

Summer Rain

Astro Jinjin x f!Reader

Genre: smut, a bit of angst

CW: smut

Rating: R

Word count: 3 k

A/N: Not beta-ed. Little bit more angsty than my usual stuff but with a happy end ;)

Written for @whipped-kpop-creators event

“Let’s go to the beach.”

Jinwoo’s voice cut the deafening silence between you. The tone of his voice told you that he was insecure. Of course he was. You were still surprised that he had the audacity to ask you on a date after what he did, and now he asked to take you on a vacation? In the moment where you did not say anything the silence returned, amplified by the distant traffic and the conversations other people were having around you. The plastic table in front of the convenience store was really not the best date you had had.

“The beach?”

He nodded and stabbed at his noodles. The mostly full paper bowl was his excuse to not meet your eyes.

“My uncle has a small vacation home by the sea. Let’s go there next weekend.”

The last week had been the hottest week of this year. You had barely slept at night and you felt even more pissed at Jinwoo because of it. Jumping into the cold, salty water sounded like a dream. It had been ages since you had even seen the sea. Why not get something good out of a bad situation? You could just ignore him while you were at the beach. You sighed.

“Okay.”

A small smile followed the initial shock on Jinwoo’s face. You ate the last bites of your ramen.

“Awesome!”

Jinwoo beamed at you. His barely contained delight would have been cute at any other time. You stood up. Well tried to. The shorts you were wearing did not play well with the plastic chair and you stuck uncomfortably to it. You pushed it off and it felt back to the ground clattering.

“See you then. I will leave first.”

You did not care that much about anniversaries, but this was the first one. One year. Who would have thought you and Jinwoo would still be together? He was the friend of a former school classmate. The two had met at the company that they both worked at. Jinwoo smiled a lot. That is what had pulled you in in the first place.

When you had gone out for dates he always paid. It was so consistent that it was almost annoying.

“I have money too, you know?” You had half-jokingly said one occasion outside the restaurant. No need to have a scene inside with all people watching.

“I know and you can spend that on whatever you want. I want to spend mine on buying you the food you like.”

One time you actually managed to pay before he did. At the end of a meal he went to the bathroom and you seized the opportunity. You felt very accomplished afterwards. Jinwoo was surprised, but laughed at your mischievous grin.

“Jinwoo, it's our anniversary soon. You wanna go out?”

The message stayed on your phone unanswered for a day. Usually he texted back in a few hours. You began to wonder. Had something happened? Was he okay? You tried to go about your day as usual but you found your eyes wandering to your phone. No new messages.

“Everything okay?”

Maybe it was not the best thing you could do, but you just texted him again. This time you got an answer.

“Sorry, I was really busy at work and fell into bed afterwards. Yes, we can do something for our anniversary”

For the next few weeks you did not see or hear much from him. Your friend had told you that Jinwoo had been roped into a project by one of the high ups.

“I'm worried about you. You work too much :((”

You knew that the message would not get through to him. He was obsessed.

“I could get the promotion. Just a little longer.”

You did not believe that it would be done soon but it was not worth fighting over. After all you would see him in person soon. It would be easier to talk some sense into him when you were face to face.

On your anniversary you waited in front of the restaurant. The agreed upon time came and went. You called Jinwoo, but his phone was off. He had stood you up.

Friday afternoon had arrived and you had gotten off work early to pack. The weather forecast said warm temperatures were to be expected. So you packed shorts, a swimming suit and other light clothes. Sunscreen would also be important. A sunburn was the last thing you wanted to have right now. You suspected that Jinwoo would try to make it up to you with this vacation. After your anniversary he had apologized constantly, but you still felt hurt. Indeed it seemed more like this vacation would be a crossroads. Would you stay with Jinwoo or break up. Yes, you liked him a lot but he was so absent these days.

At 6 pm the door rang and you almost dropped the sun cream. You opened the door to shorts wearing Jinwoo. His smile greeted you from the hallway.

You took your bag and followed him to the car. Jinwoo had borrowed his brother’s car. In the trunk were some white plastic bags from the supermarket.

“I bought something to eat.”

Jinwoo smiled shyly. This trip was him trying to make it up to you for sure. You knew that, but you were not sure if you could forgive him. The day of fast paced working, trying to do as much as possible in the given time had left you exhausted. The sun warmed the car and with the sunglasses covering your eyes you fell asleep in the passenger seat. It felt as if only a minute had passed, when Jinwoo gently shook you awake.

“We are here. You can sleep in the house.”

It took you a moment to really arrive in the land of consciousness. The car was parked in a dirt driveway. Green grass covered the ground in front of the house. Jinwoo had already unloaded your bags and locked the car once you got out. The sun was still up and it was warm. You had expected to be able to smell the sea, but the air only carried the scent of freshly cut grass. The car was parked in the backyard of the house that was surrounded by other houses and gardens.

The house was smaller and bigger than you had imagined. It was a two story building but the floor area was not very big. On the inside the air was cool and you had the impression that the windows had not been opened in some time. Jinwoo gave you a tour of the house. The ground floor was the kitchen, the living room and a small bathroom. A door led into the garden that was basically a terrace with a narrow strip of grass in front of it. A fence separates the garden from the neighbors property. Upstairs were two bedrooms. The room Jinwoo had chosen as your room answered the question you had had about where the sea was. You could see the blue band on the ocean behind two rows of houses.

“It’s not exactly a beach house.”

“The beach is three minutes away on foot,” Jinwoo protested. He looked out the window at the sea over your shoulder.

“Do you want to go there?”

You looked at him, then at the water in the distance. It was getting late and the sun would set soon. You were a bit hungry already but the urge to see the big puddle was stronger.

“Yes, let’s go.”

The blue sky was obscured by clouds, when you left the house. A path lead between the houses down to the beach. You saw some people in the water and lying on the beach. As you got closer the smell of deep fried food caught your nose. A few restaurants and shops lined the promenade that separated the beach from the city. You turned right and walked along the cobbled promenade. Jinwoo walked beside you, not saying anything. In the distance you could see a few boats gliding on the sparkling water. Further towards the direction you were walking in was the harbor. A lot of smaller boats and yachts waited for their owners.

“I got the promotion.”

You tensed. As a good girlfriend you should be happy for him but you only managed a forced smile. Great, now he will be gone even more. I don’t want your money Jinwoo, I want you to spend time with me.

“But I got it under a condition.”

When you did not ask what the condition was, he just continued: “I asked for reduced hours.”

You stopped in the middle of the promenade and looked at him. He stopped too. The person who walked behind you almost crashed into you and cursed.

“Look, I’m sorry.”

Jinwoo took your hands. You met his eyes for the first time today. They were still the warm brown that you remembered. It reminded you of the good times you and Jinwoo had had together. He pressed his lips into a thin line before speaking again.

“I know, I wasn’t there for you enough. Forgive me. Please”

You did not know what you should say. If it was true that he had taken steps to spend more time outside work.. Your heart skipped a beat. His thumbs ran over the back of your hands. A gesture so soft, it made your anger melt away.

“I love you.”

The words hit you like a truck. He said it like he meant it. Indeed there was no doubt in your head that he meant it.

“Jinwoo…”

You wiggled your hands free and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your lips met in a desperate kiss. All your frustration with him and loneliness was released through it. Warm rain began to fall. The drops hit the dry ground, the tiled roofs and your head. You pulled back. A drop hit your neck and you started to move. Covering your head, you took off in the direction of the nearest restaurant and Jinwoo followed behind you.

The cozy restaurant was perfect for this evening. You laughed more than you had had in some time. The weight of your unresolved problems had been lifted off you and it felt like you had your Jinwoo back.

After you ate and drank it was time to return to the house. You said goodbye to the waiter and went to the door. Jinwoo froze in the doorway.

“We should have brought an umbrella.”

He said it in a matter of fact way. You looked out into the night where rain was still going strong. The air had cooled down, but it was still warm. The sun had completely disappeared behind the horizont and the only light came from a few streetlamps. You looked at Jinwoo and said:

“It's not far, we can run home and take a warm shower.”

Jinwoo smiled at you. You took his hand and began running. Your laughter and curses were swallowed by the white noise of the rain.

At the house you saw an umbrella standing next to the door as you took off your soaked shoes. Your clothes clung to your body, making it harder to move. You wanted nothing more than to take them off. You showered first in the small bathroom. The hot water warmed you up again and you were reluctant to leave. It just felt too good. Eventually you had mercy with Jinwoo who was still waiting for his turn.

You put on your light pjs and went to the bedroom. You found blankets and pillows in the closet and changed the sheets on the bed. The fresh sheets too smelled a bit like they had been in the closet for some time, but they would have to do. You lay down under the thin blanket. With the rain the house had cooled down and you felt the need to cover yourself for the night.

Jinwoo came back from the shower wearing only his underwear. He looked fantastic. You wanted to rest your head on his sculpted chest. It had been some time since you had seen him shirtless and he looked buffer than you remembered. He had always been one who liked going to the gym, so he had always looked fit, but now his arms and chest were bigger than before. If he saw you staring, he did not comment on it.

Jinwoo slipped under the blanket next to you, but he kept his distance. Lying on his side he rested his head on his arm. He studied your face and you stared back. His lips were full and soft looking. It had been a while since you had noticed how handsome Jinwoo was. You leaned closer.

“Do you need anything right now?”

His voice was soft and so were his eyes. You could not stop thinking about his chest and arms and abs. The desire was clouding your mind.

“Can I touch you?”

An amused smile appeared on his face, but he pushed the blanket down to expose his upper body. You ran your hands over his chest and your eyes followed. The curves and planes of his muscles were slowly driving you mad. How could anyone look this good?

You looked up and met Jinwoo’s warm eyes. He smirked, not even trying to appear modest. The effect he had on you was very obvious and Jinwoo loved it.

“I missed you.”

He said it like he meant it. His hand covered your hand on his chest. You thought you could feel his heart beating under it. Yes, you had missed your Jinwoo too. You nodded and whispered: “I missed you too.”

You leaned in and he met you halfway. The kiss made your insides churn. He had always been a good kisser, that had not changed. Imagining what his tongue could do between your legs, was getting you riled up. He pulled you closer until your bellies touched and you were flush against him. You swung a leg over his hips and his hand wandered from your waist to your thigh. He was getting hard under the thin fabric of his underwear. You rocked your hips against his and Jinwoo sighed into the kiss. Looks like he missed this too.

He broke the kiss and you almost whined. With an apologetic look on his face he untangled himself from you.

“Let me get the condoms. I’ll be right back, promise.”

The good thing was you got a good look at him again. But you also had a moment to think. He came back with a bunch of packages and slipped under the blanket again.

“I was worried about you.”

He froze and looked at you. It must have startled him.

“About me?”

You nodded and pouted a little.

“Yes. You worked way too much and I was worried and sad about that. Please take care of yourself.”

Your pent up frustration made your tone almost whiny. With sincerity you added: “I love you.”

Jinwoo reached up and caressed your cheek.

“I love you too. I’m sorry.”

You kissed and he pulled you closer. Being pressed against his hard body was exactly what you needed right now. It was the assurance that he was here and with you.

Your leg was draped over his hips and he reached between your bodies to align himself with your entrance. He gently pushed in, stretching you nicely. You moaned into the kiss. Him in you was just as good as you remembered. He did not move and you savored the intimacy of the moment.

“How do you want me today?”

Jinwoo whispered in your ear and sucked on your neck for emphasis.

“I ate too much for what i want.”

He chuckled and his breath tickled your skin.

“You ate a lot. Have you been starving?”

You lightly slapped him and pouted. It wasn’t even that much.

“It tasted good.”

He nodded in agreement. You thought about what would be nice right now. Some position that was intimate but did not require much moving.

“How about like this?”

You moved away until he slipped out and turned around. With his arm around you and his front pressed against your back it felt like the perfect position for the night. Jinwoo pushed in and it was just as good as you had hoped.

He kissed your shoulders and neck as he set a slow pace. The thrusts grazed your g spot from time to time, making you moan. You held his hand to your chest with fingers intertwined. His hot breath tickled your neck. It was heartbreakingly intimate to be with him like this. You kissed his fingers and he gasped without making a sound. His trusts came faster now, it was not the slow fuck from before. But you were ready for your release.

Jinwoo untangled his hand from your grip and reached between your legs. He circled your clit in time with his thrusts. By instinct you clenched around him, wanting to shut your legs close. It limited his motion on your clit, but he did all he could. Rubbing you faster as his thrusts speed up too. You gasped and moaned, moving your hips for more. Your whole body tensed in anticipation. The steady rhythm of Jinwoo’s thrusts faltered, but they were harder now, hitting inside you just right.

“A little more, please!”

It was more a whine than understandable words, but Jinwoo groaned and struggled for more controlled movements. You did not have to worry about anyone hearing you and a moment later you also did not care, if anyone did. Jinwoo let you ride out your orgasm with his fingers still pressed against your sensitive clit. You turned your head so you could see him over your shoulder. His hair stuck to his forehead, but he looked pleased. You planted a sloppy kiss on his lips.

“I think I need another shower.”

#AWhippedSummer #ksmutclub #wkcnet #noonasinnetwork #Astro smut #Astro Jinjin smut # jinjin x reader #Astro x reader #kpop x reader #Astro fanfic #Astro fics #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #star writing #request #queue for the lemonade stand

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