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leviathanleva · 2 months ago

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Caffè Crema

[Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!FemReader]

Excitement for your morning coffee turns to panic when you bump into a mountainous stranger in a grey hoodie, sporting a skull mask. Sputtered apologies become a conversation in a corner of the café. And he’s so beat up, battered and bruised and scarred that you can’t help the words that leave your lips:

“Do you want to come home with me?”

[5k words ]

Chapter 1 "Caffeine Rush"

Airpods in your ears, music vibrating through your soul, you were ready for the world outside.

Sweet Saturday morning, after a week of work and barely any time for yourself, you’d decided on a treat to start off the weekend. You’d slept in late, phone alarm turned off and sleeping mask tugged on, new sheets prepared the night before because it was so comforting to wake up to the subtle smell of detergent. And once you were finally up, you’d decided fuck it, go out and get a nice steaming hot coffee in a cute paper cup from the local café, listen to Lofi or Lana Del Rey or whatever Spotify had prepared for your daily suggestions on the way, cozy up in a warm winter jacket and a thick scarf. Bless the crisp December air, it nipped at your cheeks and filled your lungs with sharp frosty air. It numbed your nose too and made your eyes water, but those weren’t as positive as the previous two affixes.

The streets were buzzing, a rare sight of the sun peeking through a blanket of grey clouds was shining down on you.

All in all, it was going to be a good day.

You waited impatiently for the light to turn green before crossing the street with a horde of nameless individuals, keeping in tandem with them.

Snow was still a no-show, you could only hope for its appearance at least on Christmas. The holidays without a fluffy coat of white powdering over everything from trees to rooftops just didn’t sit well with you, but at the end of the day, it was up to Mother Nature, not you. Anything but the ice rain you’d had the week prior; you weren’t ready to skate to the store again.

The bell above the café door shakes to life, signaling your entrance. You tuck one airpod in your pocket to listen in on the chatter in the comfy, coffee bean scented establishment, and also because you didn’t want to miss anything the cashier said. You were the anxious type after all, didn’t wanna miss a thing ever.

The heating system is blasting, cranked to the max, steam comes in large waves from behind the oak counter, be it from warm beverages or baked goods fresh from the oven, it lingers long enough for you to get a whiff before being diligently sucked away by the range hood. You unzip the top part of your jacket before getting too stuffy, loosen your scarf and take off your gloves. The staff, donned in their creamy yellow aprons, zip back and forth between tables like worker ants and you step into the line of waiting customers to keep out of their way.

The hardwood floor is licked spotless, looking down, you can almost see your reflection staring back at you. The hum of the large coffee grinder fills your exposed ear and you decide to turn off Spotify for the moment and bask in the café’s ambience instead.

The line moves, it’s almost your turn and you glance up at the display monitors listing off all the choices on the menu for today. Lattes, milkshakes, espressos, you decide on a large cappuccino, leave experimenting with unfamiliar drinks for another day when you’re feeling more courageous.

“Large cappuccino, please.” You say with a polite smile and fish out your wallet from your pocket.

Coffee is cheap here, cheaper than in most cafés and that’s one of the things that keeps you coming back to this place. It’s not easy to afford treats when you live on your own and have to pay the bills and groceries alone. However, you manage, and being able to afford a coffee or takeout once in a while is all the sweeter when knowing you owe nothing to nobody.

You take your cup and nudge your chin for the barista to keep the change before stepping away to the sidebar littered with plastic lids, sugar packets, and cheap wooden teaspoons for stirring your drink. After a brief consideration, you decide not to sweeten your coffee and only take a large lid, pop it over your cup and after zipping your jacket back up, you’re about to turn and walk out.

A walk through the park where you can sit down and enjoy your drink suggestively passes by your mind. Deciding that’s exactly what you will do, you palm through your pocket for your discarded airpods while nursing your paper cup to your chest.

And maybe it was your fault for not paying enough attention because you were buzzed to have a nice relaxing weekend. Or that you’d already achieved your first goal of the day and you were about to have a nice vibey stroll while hurrying to stuff your ears with music before you left the café. Maybe you’d jinxed your Saturday by confidently thinking it would be a swell time and nothing wrong would happen for once.

You should have known better. You should have suspected something would go wrong.

Something always goes wrong.

You whirl around with the intent of being on your way, expecting the glass doors to be in view, but they aren’t. A mountain of flesh and muscle stands before you. And your reaction time is too slow to save yourself or your coffee.

You jump, your hand flinches and the paper cup goes flying, a gasp upon your lips so loud it turns heads. You can only watch in horror as it makes contact with a wide chest clad in a grey hoodie, the lid pops off from the force of the impact and the hot contents inside go in every direction.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my freaking God.”

One hand goes up to cover your agape mouth while the other clutches at the zipper of your jacket as panic crawls up your neck and prickles your scalp.

The worst part is that your coffee wasn’t the only casualty. The poor guy had dropped his beverage to pull his hoodie off his chest the moment your scalding beverage had soaked it.

There was steam coming off it. It was boiling and you’d spilled it on him.

You wanted to die.

And he’s fucking terrifying too. Easily two heads over you and built like a truck. The intricate skull mask obscures the lower half of his face and you can’t discern if he’s absolutely pissed or just mildly uncomfortable with the large stain plastered on his top.

His eyes are sharp, trained on his ruined hoodie, crow’s feet crinkled, and you’re grateful they’re not directed at you because you were a step away from breaking down on the spot.

A stone lodged itself in your throat.

If he didn’t curse you to oblivion, he’d either break you in half, or worse, sue you.

You can’t get fucking sued. You don’t have the money to get sued.

So much for having a good day…

“Oh my God, I’m sorry.” You sputter out and grab a handful of paper towels from the counter. You’re glancing up at him every now and again for fear of his patience running out. “I’m so so sorry.”

Shaky hands are tapping away at his top, soaking in the liquid as best you can while trying to keep from breaking down. Your tongue is arrested between your teeth, bitten down on hard in a self-soothing attempt. Your fingertips are stained with coffee because there‘s so much of it that it’s turning the paper towels to mush. You couldn’t care less about that or that you were practically sweating bullets under your jacket.

All you hoped for was that you hadn’t caused the poor guy a burn.

“ ‘s okay.” He murmurs in a thick British accent while watching you fuss over him with growing anxiety. The jitter in your movements would be almost comical if not for you practically hyperventilating on him.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

“No.” You whine, before you can stifle your voice to normalcy, and turn to the cashier peeking from behind the counter with watery eyes and a deeply carved frown. “No. I’m so sorry, we spilled our drinks. I mean, I spilled - ” You take in a breath to compose yourself and brush a hand over your forehead, shoulders slumping. You’re giving your best apologetic expression, practically mourning over the mess you’d made at your feet and of the man looming next to you.“ – I’m sorry. I can clean it up if you have a mop.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, miss. We’ll mop it up.” The cashier replies, bless her, and signals for one of the waiters to fetch the cleaning supplies. The friendly smile never wavers from her balmed lips; neither does the caffeinated twinkle in her eyes.

She’s most likely seen this sort of thing plenty of times, but for you, it’s a first and it’s your fault to top it off. It’s not an easy pill to swallow and despite the atmosphere being anything but hostile, you can’t help but still feel guilty.

Of course, this had to happen to you of all people. You weren’t allowed a single day of peace and tranquility.

With the main cause of disturbance taken care of, you turn back to your victim, who’s joined you in trying to dry off his hoodie. Your stomach churns at the sight, and you’re afraid to look around in case all eyes are on you two. You can’t bear the scrutiny, even though most people have probably resumed their dwellings by now.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? I’m so sorry, sir.” You ask and reach for more paper towels, pressing them against his chest more so to show you’re very apologetic and trying to fix the situation rather than actually fixing it because most of the coffee has already come out.

You glance up at him after mustering up the courage, curious as to what awaited you next. He returns your gaze with one of indifference or calmness, you can’t tell, blinks at you slowly, as if he’s just now taking your flustered form for the first time, then he speaks, more clearly this time.

“It’s fine.”

A server arrives with a mop in hand and you both step away from the mess to let them clean it up. You take the lead unintentionally and guide the stranger towards one of the vacant tables in the corner of the café, away from prying stares.

You pick the chair next to the wall that has a large ficus partially looming over the seat. Maybe with enough luck, you can disappear inside it.

Finally, unzipping your jacket because you’re about to faint from the stuffiness, you lay it on the cushioned backrest of the chair and pat it down to make sure you’d not accidentally dropped any of your belongings during the accident. You tug at your sweater to air out the thin sheen of nervous sweat that’s formed over your skin, brush off the strands of hair that have come to stick to your face and take off your scarf.

The stranger sits on the opposite chair, paper towel still to his chest and sucking out any leftover residue. The stain won’t leave your vision no matter how hard you try to rip the two separate. It’s the worry gnawing at your gut that keeps you rooted to your spot, wanting to approach but too afraid to do so.

But so far he’s been a nice guy, hasn’t said one single bad word to you.

Your mind reels with how red and irritated his skin must be, praying it hadn’t blistered up already. You have half a mind to ask him to take off his hoodie so you can take a look.

A fresh wave of panic wraps its dainty fingers around your neck in squeezes, sends needles to prick over random places on your body.

And all this time, you’ve been sputtering out apologies like a broken record, his dismissal of your regret not even reaching your ears let alone registering.

“Should I call an ambulance? Oh my God, I’ve never had to call an ambulance in my life…” You ask, mumbling the last part to yourself as the realization hits you square in the face. For a brief moment, you forget how to dial the emergency line because you’ve never had to use that number before. “I’m sorry, sir – I – I didn’t mean – ”

You continue to blabber while searching your jacket pocket for your phone. The guy might have said nothing at your suggestion, but you wanted to be safe and have your phone at the ready anyway. And you’re too preoccupied going ballistic with panic in your own little world to hear him repeatedly tell you that everything is fine and you’ve done no big deal, he doesn’t need an ambulance and that he’s fine.

“Hey!” He grabs the crux of your elbow and pulls you before him, a large knee on either side of your thighs. A startled noise crawls up your throat but you make no move to step away. You’re staring at him as your hands disappear inside his and he jerks them slightly, his voice lowering now that he’s caught your attention finally. “Relax. It’s alright. Happens.” His comfort is rough. His voice gruff and sounding more like a scold than anything. He shakes you a bit too hard, not used to handling something as delicate as you, and pulls you down enough to make solid eye contact. “Alright?”

You nod and avert your gaze away, soggy paper towels left in a pile on the table making your fingers twitch with the need to do more. Apologies simply aren’t enough, not when he’d probably need to apply ointment on his chest for a few days after your little fiasco.

Why did have to be such a hot mess all the time?

“At least…Let me buy you another drink. On me? It’ll make me feel better.” The frown is still tugging on your lips as you speak, shyly looking at him from under your lashes. “Please?”

He sighs softly at your relentlessness and shrugs before letting your hands slip from him, having kept them in his grasp for longer than he should.

“Sure.”

He leans back in his chair and readjusts both his hood and the cap poking beneath it before resting his elbows on the table.

“What did you order?” You question while fetching your wallet.

The innocent look you toss him has him forcing himself to stop staring at you like a creep. He clears his throat and rubs over his tired eyes tenderly before answering.

“Black tea with milk.”

And so you reorder your cappuccino, get him his tea and decide that a simple butter croissant as an apology is enough for the moment. Every time you turn around to glance at him, nervous that he’d simply slip away from your overbearing presence, he catches your stare without fail. Heat gathers around your ears and your lips purse unintentionally every single time and you quickly turn back to the cashier, pretending you hadn’t just been discovered ogling him.

The chair looks too small to encompass his hulking frame comfortably, the table is no different, but you guess he’s used to it by now. A man of his stature isn’t a common occurrence here. Poor thing probably has to bow to enter through most doorways and have his shirts custom-made with how wide his shoulders were. If he wore shirts at all that is.

He looks like he’s brooding when you return with the order, fingers linked together and thumbs dancing around each other.

You set the tea by his side, note the callouses and scarring around his knuckles, the roughness of his skin. Your first thought is that he’s a construction worker, it would explain his size, the biceps that are as big as your head and straining against the stitches of his hoodie, the casual clothes, and the dark circles under his eyes that make it easy for anyone to guess that he doesn’t rest enough. But then he pulls his mask down and lets it rest under his chin as he takes a prolonged sip from his drink. You note the crookedly mended nose after a trauma so potent it made your eyes water at the thought of what pain he’d endured. There’s a gash running along his thin lips, multiple ones that stand out from the light stubble peppering the lower part of his face, deep ones, ones that you guessed had needed stitches and took forever to properly heal.

Now you’re not so sure he’s a construction worker.

“So what do you do for a living?” It rolls off your tongue before you can stop it. You laugh nervously and raise a hand in a soothing motion before he even has a chance to answer. “You don’t have to tell if you’re not comfortable. I’m just curious.”

The mug of tea pauses before his lips and he gives you a skeptical look.

“Military.”

“Oh.” You blurt out and awkwardly take a sip from your coffee, nearly choking at how hot it is.

And that’s precisely the answer Ghost expected. It was a big turnoff for many people when they learned his career path, mostly because the news only displayed the bad outcomes of his work and never the good. He might have saved this entire city a week ago from a bombing and nobody would know.

It came with the territory and he half expected you to think up some lousy explanation as to why you suddenly had to go.

But you aren’t like that at all because of course, you aren’t. Why would it be made easy for him to forget you and move on with his day when you could be sweet and open and give him more reason to burn you into the crevices of his conscience instead? Why would you make an excuse and leave when you could stay and kindle the embers of his humanity and make yourself space to be a permanent memory?

That’s just his typical luck.

“Must be tough.” You muse, absentmindedly taking a napkin and wiping off the milk and tea mustache staining his upper lip, as if tending to a messy toddler. It comes instinctively and you don’t fight it until your fingers are already being poked by his stubble. “But thanks for keeping us normal folk safe.” You give his wide-eyed stare a warm smile, and tilt your head slightly to one side.

You notice the subtle way in which he moves his chin towards your hand, apprehensive of you pulling away. As if he’s fighting his demons to lean into your touch, to rest his cheek against your palm and close his eyes because he hasn’t been offered softness in so long that he doesn’t remember what it feels like anymore.

You don’t mind that his large hand reaches to try and still your wrist, aching for more delicate touches, but stops before coming in contact with your flesh, pulled back by self-deprecating restrain. You almost want to encourage him, he looks visibly altered by your simple gesture, like a dog who’d been beaten all his life and was given a treat for the first time.

“What happened to you, old soldier?” You want to ask gently, pry a little while you cup his face and let him rest on the softness of your palm, close his eyes for a brief moment of respite.

Your heart aches for him.

But then you remember he’s a stranger and the moment shatters.

The smile vanishes from your face, the warmth dissipates and you flinch back.

“Sorry.” You rush to say and crumble up the napkin in your hand before tossing it on the table and trying to brush off the suffocating awkwardness. “You had something there.” You motion to your upper lip before drowning in more coffee, hoping it will ease the discomfort.

Just what the hell had you been thinking?

And he’s not far behind you on that note. The flicker of softness dies in his chocolate browns and the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth stills and dips into neutrality. The exhaustion returns to his features and his gaze flits away from you as he gathers himself back together.

“You should eat tha’ ‘fore it gets cold.”

Your eyes trail to where he’d nudged his chin and you see the butter croissant you’d purchased along with your drinks. You giggle, it turns into a light laugh when his head cocks to the side in confusion because he’s yet to realize you’d gotten it for him.

Because why would he? He’s a soldier, he gets bullets and grenades, not tea and croissants.

Poor creature, sweet scarred sufferer, with so much weight on his shoulders you couldn’t imagine bearing.

“It’s for you.” You push the small plate closer to him and flick your hand for him to dig in, treat himself on your behalf if he won’t do it on his own accord.

“What?” He reels back in his seat slightly at your words, sets down his drink and tenses up. There’s so much disbelief there that it’s almost comical.

It’s like he’d never been treated before.

Maybe he hadn’t been.

Jesus Christ, what if he actually hadn’t been?

“I mean it’s the least I can do after drenching you in coffee.” You say and press the lid of your cup to your lips, hiding the sympathetic smile from view lest he takes it as pity.

You didn’t pity the man, not in the slightest, but from the tired eyes to the worn clothes, sunk-in shoulders and need for anonymity, you guessed he’d not seen much kindness.

It was easily discernable that he wasn’t used to taking care of himself. Coming to a café to get a drink was probably the maximum self-indulgence he’d permit himself.

“Didn’t ‘ave to.” He grumbles out, voice hoarse and cutting off at the end.

“I wanted to.” You say and wave off his meager comment.

Gods, you wanted to bathe him in sugar and softness.

He tugs the plate before him hesitantly, looking over the croissant as if not trusting it or you, then he picks it up. A small bite at first, one of apprehension before the treat melts on his tongue and awakens his taste buds. He finishes it in two mouthfuls, barely chews and you’re inclined to ask if he wants another, you’re ready to feed him the whole bakery stand if he so wishes. But he declines, whether from embarrassment or mistrust, you didn’t know.

You just know he’s hungry.

You give him your name while he’s washing down the croissant with his leftover tea, just throw it out there in the hopes that he’ll give you his. And he does after heaving a sigh.

“Simon.”

“Pretty name.” You note, toss him a friendly smile that’s a silent invitation for him to say more. “Nice to meet you then, Simon.”

But your friendliness doesn’t breach his defenses a second time. He eyes you with an unreadable expression, watches you slurp your coffee while you’re left to wonder if your compliment had been a mistake.

You might have been coming off as too friendly, trying to suck up to him after ruining his top and that was the reason why you were so nice. Or maybe he thought that there was a hidden agenda behind your acts, that you’d want something in return for your kindness and that’s why he kept his guard up.

Action without a need for reciprocation didn’t exist in his world. Nobody was stupidly selfless enough to just give and not want anything in return. But you were right there, proving him wrong and he wasn’t sure that fact was a fact anymore.

Throughout his internal debate, you’re doing your best to remain casual but it’s difficult with those dark orbs boring into your soul. It’s even more difficult when the silence settles, so you decide to ramble and keep the spirits up until he feels comfortable enough to join.

It might come off as annoying, but you’re sure he’ll stop you if you’re becoming too much to handle.

You tell him about your job, a brief summary of how rough your week had been that that was the reason why you’d come here this morning to treat yourself. You tell him you’re clumsier than you’d like to admit, that you can’t imagine drinking tea first thing in the morning. You tell him that you’d love to have a pet one day, but your landlord doesn’t permit any, ask him if he has pets or would want any. Then you ask if he’s more a cat or a dog person.

And throughout the entire time, he’s staring at you with this undigestible look and you have no idea what to make of it.

The caffeine pumping in your veins helps keep your monologue going until finally he speaks up.

��Bothering you?”

“What?” You spit out, cease your rambling and scrunch your brows at him in confusion.

“The face.” He says, motioning towards his partly obscured face like it’s so obvious. “Ain’t a pretty mug to look at.”

You blink at him silently, at a loss for words at his not-so-kind statement. Your mouth parts, struggling to form a coherent reply because you’re absolutely thunderstruck that he thinks so lowly of you as to believe you’d be affected by such a thing.

Then again, he doesn’t know you, and neither do you him.

But the fact that he’s polite enough to ask while already anticipating the answer tells you that he might have had this conversation one too many times already. Or maybe he hadn’t, maybe the mean comments and ugly remarks were all in his head and he hid his face to stifle those rather than hide from other people.

You don’t know which alternative is sadder.

“No! Not at all.” You say slowly, accenting every word that comes out of your mouth, with eyes trained on his and refusing to blink in case you missed anything. “You’re handsome, really.” You dare to reach out for him and rest your hand atop his, gentle and ready to pull back in case his features portrayed any hint of discomfort with your actions. “Plus your scars mean you put yourself before me to keep me safe, right? Can’t judge you for that.”

Now he’s the one left speechless.

Wordlessly, he twists his wrist, rolls his hand around and slowly unclenches his fingers to let yours through. And your hand is so soft and warm when it slips over his mauled palm, even the skin is a stark contrast because yours is so smooth, spotless, perfect, compared to his.

He runs his large thumb over your knuckles, relishes the tingly feeling it gives him, watches intently because he’s sure that as soon as his eyes move to somewhere else, you’ll vanish and it’ll all be over. Your fingers fall against his wrist where his pulse leisurely beats, only quickening when you shift in your seat because he thinks you’ll pull away.

Manicured nails trace over the scars poking from beneath the sleeve of his hoodie and he shivers, the hairs on his arms rising. He lets you tug the sleeve back, wanting to know how far the violent marks go. Soon enough black and grey ink peeks from under the fabric and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips at how delighted you seem.

“Oh, I love tattoos…” You hum while tracing the tips of your fingers over it.

“Got any?” He asks absentmindedly, almost mechanically as all his attention is focused on the little hand exploring his own.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” You giggle, eyes closing briefly in delight as you bask in the fuzzy atmosphere.

He bites his tongue at that, decides now isn’t the time for flirty remarks, bids you too esteemed to fall for a sleazy comeback that might result in him naked in your bed. No, you were made to be courted, won over with effort and flowers and all the things he hasn’t bothered with in the past.

You were the type of woman that he avoided for fear of messing things up, someone who deserved better than him and he wasn’t ashamed of admitting that. Yet here you were, practically thrust in his arms by chance.

“Do you want another tea?” You ask because his drink is gone and what’s left at the bottom of your cup is two sips at most. And you don’t end this to end, you don’t want him to leave just yet.

“I’m good.” He answers and retracts his arm before standing. “Gonna ‘ave a smoke outside. Cheers for the tea.”

It’s not a goodbye, but it still makes your heart ache and your mind switches to turbo mode to try and think of something.

Your next question doesn’t come from a place of desire or lust. You’ve no intent of trying to get the battered soldier into your bed and use him for selfish pleasure. You’d never let yourself be so cruel.

“Do you want to come home with me?”

You ask because to you, he’s a stray in need of a home, someone to take care of him a little and nurse him back into a better shape before his next big military mission. It’s naïve, stupid really, to think a grown man such as himself can’t take care of himself.

But the way he looks tells you a sad story and you’d spoken before thinking. Now you’re left with a hot face and a fluttering stomach as he stares at you over his shoulder with something akin to surprise.

“I mean…for lunch, sometime. My treat of course.” You say next, trying to salvage the moment before it got too awkward and you were forced to go to the toilets and hyperventilate while beating yourself up internally. “You don’t have to – ”

“ – Yeah.”

And you swear you saw his eyes squint with a smile hidden somewhere behind the bulk of his shoulder.

Chapter 2 >>>

Masterlist

#x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod mw2

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okaylikeschaewon · 8 months ago

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Exchange Part 4: Deal

~5k words, smut, male reader, barely proofread so be nice

It was only a month later before your modest life had turned incredibly lavish. Jisoo not only succeeded in landing you a fantastic promotion, but she also went above and beyond to make sure you got compensated more than you could have ever imagined - frankly more than you probably deserved, but who were you to complain?

What used to be your humble flat had been replaced by what was essentially an estate in an affluent South Korean neighborhood. People could work their entire lives and never be able to afford this, but for the most part, one evening was the reason you were here. Normally, living in a house this size would be rather lonely - fortunately for you there was company.

“You see Jennie’s latest CK ads?” The small girl asked casually as she scrolled through her phone, a cup of coffee in her other hand.

“Hard not to,” you replied. “They’re plastered all over my feed.”

“Girl would rather try convincing people to buy panties over being an idol at this point,” she sighed.

“Clearly it’s not working on you,” you commented as your eyes explored Lisa’s bare legs.

“Do you want me to put on some of Jennie’s panties?” Lisa smirked, putting down her coffee and uncrossing her legs. “I thought you preferred this,” she added as she spread her legs and started rubbing between her legs, using her fingers to cover herself up.

“I do, that’s why you’re still forbidden to wear pants when you’re in my house.”

“Is that right?” Lisa chuckled, crossing her legs again. “Since when is my body your property?”

“It goes both ways,” you replied, cocking an eyebrow in her direction. “Remember last weekend?”

“That’s different!” she whined, crossing her arms after tossing her phone onto the table. “I told you not to cum in her.”

“Baby it was one time, you-”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” Lisa growled. “We had a deal that night.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized sarcastically before getting down on your knees in front of Lisa’s crossed legs. “Baby,” you teased, gently spreading her legs again.

“Shut up,” Lisa rolled her eyes, failing to hide her smile as she stood up from the chair and hopped onto the table. “Just hurry up, this coffee sucks.”

“Hey, I like this coffee…” you mumbled as you stood up from your knees and lowered your pants, tossing your shirt to the side.

“I’m just kidding,” Lisa chuckled. “It’s actually pretty good. I just want something else right now.”

“You’re always in the mood for that something else.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Does it look like I’m complaining?”

“Just hurry up and fuck me baby boy,” she groaned, losing any semblance of subtly, putting her heels up on the table.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” you grunted as you pressed your tip against her pussy.

She was already somewhat wet - the girl always had sex on her mind. You lathered up her slick onto your shift, working quickly because you knew Lisa could get impatient. At times she enjoyed a bit of teasing, but you knew when she wanted to get on with it - this morning was one of those times.

Lisa’s pussy never failed to impress you with how tight it was. Even after weeks of fucking her little pussy, weeks of sex being a nearly daily activity for the two of you, it still surprised you each and every time your cock entered her body.

“Oh fuck yes, it’s been too long,” Lisa moaned softly, tilting her head back as your cock slid slowly into her tight pussy.

“It’s been less than half a day,” you moaned back, wrapping your arms around her lower back for leverage as you pushed all the way into her slowly.

“Too long,” she groaned, bringing one hand between her legs and rubbing her clit.

Even though you were worried that you would start to grow tired of Lisa's body, those fears never came to fruition. It turned out that depriving an idol of any sexual outlet for an extended period of time led to a great deal of stress, and Lisa was taking full advantage of you to make up for lost time. Even if she was just using you, it didn't particularly matter to you because the arrangement worked out well regardless.

Luckily for you, that made the sex amazing. Even now, with Lisa leaning back on the table, with your hips pushing into her pussy, she managed to move her body back and forth alongside you. Laziness was not in her vocabulary - no matter what position she was in she was able to make it that much better for you through sheer physical talent. It motivated you, drove you to new levels. It made you want to fuck her harder every single time your cock blessed her soft body.

“Harder baby,” Lisa groaned softly, closing her eyes, hands gripping the edge of the table to support her shaking body. “Fuck me harder.”

Satisfying the tight Thai girl was your favorite activity. Her pleasure became your only goal. Your motivation. Your balls slapped against her skin each time your cock dove into her pussy. The combination of her dripping pussy and the beads of sweat forming on her skin was a recipe for the most mind-boggling elation.

Her pussy eventually began to gush all over your cock, adding more of her natural lubricant which somehow barely made it easier to fuck her. She was tight. Each thrust took effort - true conviction. The wet slapping of skin on skin fueled your urges, kept you going, pushed you deeper than you thought possible, aided by her drenched body.

A singular word escaped her lips, a whisper that could be heard across the room and in every room, as her body fell backwards onto the table.

“Fuck.”

The readjustment of her position gave you the tiniest pause which you used to regain some semblance of control over your own orgasm. You took both of her ankles in your palms and lifted her legs up, resting them on your shoulders, before leaning forward slightly. With her legs to the roof, body bent almost in half, you resumed your work.

This new angle was perfect - evident by Lisa’s sudden onset of squeals. The barrage of shrieks attacked your ears as your cock rubbed against her most sensitive spot. You had learned what worked best on Lisa thanks to the excessive amount of experience the two of you had together, and this was exactly what she needed right now.

“I’m…”

“Me too,” you grunted in response before leaning forward, bending her body entirely in half, her thighs pressing against her abs. You leaned forward a bit more until your lips found her mouth.

As your tongue entered her mouth, you immediately realized your mistake; Her body had become too much for you. The sensation of her tight pussy had already pushed you dangerously close, but Lisa’s kiss launched you right over the edge with no chance for you to hold back. The last thing you could consciously do was latch onto Lisa’s body, allowing her vibrations to be felt directly on your skin.

The satisfaction of your cock filling Lisa’s pussy numbed your mind, your cum gushing deep inside her body. It was becoming difficult to continue, yet your hips kept thrusting on autopilot. Each spurt of cum was proceeded with another thrust. It almost felt embarrassing finishing this abruptly - but then you felt her.

Lisa’s pussy began squeezing your shaft. Perfectly timed, you thought to yourself as your hips tried their hardest to desperately continue pumping her tight pussy. It was, however, futile. Physically you had nothing left, and all you could do was lay there as Lisa’s pussy convulsed. It was like all your energy flew into Lisa’s body through your cum, now it was time to just enjoy Lisa’s body while having no control over your own.

Thankfully, based on the breaths she let into your mouth, she was in her own little world now. She rode it out for what felt like minutes, maybe even hours, probably not, pressing each individual nerve in your cock over and over with her tight warmth. When you eventually felt her body finally start to relax, finally start to calm down, you very carefully and slowly withdrew your cock, her pussy squeezing your exit, fighting to keep your softening shaft inside her.

Both of you desperately tried to catch your breath, gasping as if you ran marathons, still holding onto each other, your cum slowly leaking out of her. It took a moment, time you used to gently press your mouth against her warm skin.

“Can you… come with me… to the�� office…?” Lisa panted, her chest heaving up and down on the table.

“Sure,” you answered between the kisses you were planting over Lisa’s neck, taking the second your lips left her neck to speak. “You’ve. Been. Excessively. Horny.”

“It’s…” Lisa sighed before mustering up the strength to pull herself up and sit straight. “It’s for Jisoo, she needs to tell you something.”

“Huh? Why didn’t she send me a message directly?” you asked while backing up slightly so that Lisa could hop off the table.

“Because it was my suggestion,” Lisa answered while taking a seat and pulling you closer to her.

“Suggestion for what?”

Lisa ignored the question as she became occupied with using your cock to probe the inside of her mouth.

“Lisa, what suggestion?” you repeated, flinching as your extremely sensitive tip hit the inside of her cheek.

“Can a girl suck some cock in peace?” she whined, brows furrowed in frustration as she glared up at you.

All you could do was chuckle at the absurdity.

“Thank you,” Lisa added cheerily before putting her lips against your shaft, licking up whatever combination of fluids had accumulated.

Her lust for your cock was probably one of her most endearing qualities. She could never have enough, once a day wasn’t even enough. Rarely did you sleep without Lisa at least giving you a blowjob, it was like she needed your cum to survive. You couldn’t help but feel your insides warm up at the sight of her cute little tongue poking away at your tip.

“Mwah!” she exaggerated a final kiss on your cock before smiling brightly up at you, finally content. “Now, what were you asking me?”

“The suggestion?”

“Oh, here let me show you,” she replied before opening her mouth wide and leaning over to throat your cock again.

“Lisa, seriously,” you stopped her with your hands.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted, crossing her arms. “Fine, she’ll tell you herself.”

“When do you have to get to the office?”

“Whenever I want, it’s not like we make music anymore.”

“Alright,” you sighed. “Since you already got me hard again…”

She laughed loudly before grabbing your cock in one hand and moving her lips forward.

“Now who’s excessively horny?” Lisa chuckled before slipping your cock down her neck in a single movement.

—

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Loving the suit.”

“Rosie, it’s great to see you again,” you smiled as you entered the room. You gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before looking around. “Did Lisa send me to the wrong room? Where’s Jisoo?”

“Oh she’ll be right back,” Rosé replied. “I think she’s changing her dress.”

“Speaking of dresses, you look absolutely stunning right now,” you admired her long, strapless, black dress which showcased her frame beautifully with plenty of skin showing around her chest and hips as the fabric made an “x” across her torso.

“I decided I’d show myself off tonight, hopefully inspire some of the useless men to stop being so useless.”

“What’s happening tonight, why are you all getting so dressed up anyway?” you asked as you took her hand and made her twirl for you.

“Says the guy literally wearing a three piece,” Rosé shook her head playfully. “Did Lisa not tell you?”

“Nope, in her defense her mouth was pretty preoccupied this morning,” you replied. “All she said was to get dressed up.”

“Cheeky bastard,” Rosé laughed. “We’re going to another party tonight, to celebrate Jisoo’s news.”

“Oh right, I forgot they moved it to Friday,” you said, remembering the invite you received earlier this week. After getting your promotion, you were invited to the weekly party with full VIP access, but you haven’t attended one ever since that night you met Lisa. According to the girls, they generally weren’t worth it most of the time, not unless there was a special occasion.

Before the conversation could continue, the door swung open and Jisoo barged in. She had her head tilted while adjusting her earring, completely flustered but also unrealistically beautiful in her black and red dress.

“One simple request is all-” Jisoo began ranting before stopping in her tracks at the sight of you. She immediately forgot about whatever she was upset about and ran up to you, jumping into your arms. “Thank you for coming!”

“It’s my pleasure,” you said as her perfume hit your nose. She smelled even better than she looked right now, and you refused to let go of her as the flowery scent engulfed your senses.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Rosé giggled before leaving the room, finally bringing you back to your senses and ending the embrace.

“I heard you had some news to share,” you said softly while holding Jisoo’s arms.

“The songs are done,” she beamed up at you, that contagious smile making your heart flutter.

“Songs? As in multiple? Already?”

“Two,” she announced happily.

“Jisoo, that's amazing!” you pulled her into another hug and started patting her back. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I still owe credit to you,” she giggled.

“Absolutely not,” you pulled apart and took hold of her hands. “This was all you.”

“Either way, you helped inspire the title track’s name,” she smiled warmly, giving your hands a little squeeze.

“How so?”

“You’ll find out when they come out,” she replied before leaning closer to you.

It was instinctual, for the first time since that party, your body met with Jisoo’s. Your lips pressed effortlessly against each other’s, the beautiful aroma she wore blessing your senses once more. It felt so right kissing Jisoo, an oddly unexplainable passion between your bond.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered right in front of her face as your lips parted.

She answered by leaning forward again, kissing you softly, her hand wrapping around the back of your shoulders, forcing your own hands to naturally grab her waist. The two of you kept the kiss going, even as you pushed back, now making her lean slightly backwards, keeping her body up with your hands.

The beautiful moment was shattered as the two of you jolted away from each other at the sound of a loud crash in the room. You both turned towards the noise to see Rosé awkwardly standing in front of a tipped chair.

“Oops,” she giggled, holding up her purse. “My bad, forgot my bag.”

Jisoo chuckled before letting go of your shoulders and walking over to the dresser in the corner of the room.

“Thanks again for coming, I’ll see you later tonight?” Jisoo asked, turning her head just slightly enough for you to see her side profile.

“Absolutely.”

—

“No random whores.”

“I would never.”

“If I find a single one putting her hands on you-”

“Sweetie, you’re the only whore I want,” you whispered mockingly, giving Lisa a small poke in the ribs.

“Not funny.”

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean it,” you teased, leaning into her until she was on her back.

“Call me that again and you won’t be touching any girls tonight,” Lisa glared at you, trying to stop herself from laughing as your fingers attacked her sides.

“Don’t worry, if she won’t let you have fun, you can always spend time with me,” Jennie interjected from across the limo.

“Is that so?” you chuckled, sitting back up and turning to look at Jennie. “You make it sound like you’re the one doing me the favor, as if it’s not the other way around?”

“Please, I’ll have a line of men waiting for me the second I enter this stupid event,” Jennie scoffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t need you.”

“Sure, but we both know you’re going to be complaining about each and every one of them.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You will,” Rosé chimed in from her seat next to Jennie. “We’ve all heard it before, and then you’re probably going to be begging for him to put it in your ass again.”

“What are you-” Jennie’s face turned bright red.

“You wouldn’t stop talking about that night for days after the last party we went to,” Rosé continued nonchalantly, taking a sip of champagne. “Oh Lisa when are you bringing him around again… Lisa is he coming tonight… Lisa-”

“Shut up,” Jennie cut her off, trying to hide her embarrassment desperately, but even in the dimly lit limo it was clear as day. “You complain about them just as much as I do.”

“Begging, you say?” your lips curled up at the sides, trying to stifle your laughs. “I like the sound of that.”

“I was not begging.”

“She was,” Rosé and Lisa both said in unison.

“That’s adorable,” you teased, holding your hand against your chest. “I’m touched.”

“Not begging.”

“So you’re saying you don’t want me to spend time with you tonight?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Jennie quickly replied, perhaps a bit too quickly, the blush on her cheeks burning redder.

“What are you saying exactly?” you smirked at her.

“I…” she froze, too embarrassed to finish her sentence.

“I wanna hear this begging, maybe then you’ll get what you want,” you laughed, enjoying every second of Jennie’s embarrassment. “Maybe.”

Jennie’s shoulders slumped forward as she left out a hefty sigh before mustering up some strength and sitting up straight.

“Oh my God, pick literally anyone else, why do you have to take my entertainment,” Lisa laughed, sitting back up and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Is that what I am, your entertainment?” you responded while reaching your arm around her body, moving her face from your shoulder to your chest.

“Yes, exactly,” she replied immediately before turning back to Jennie. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Go on,” Jennie leaned back against her seat, just as curious as you were about what Lisa had in mind.

“He can have my blessing to do whatever he wants with you tonight,” Lisa continued. “If you let him finish on your face before we enter tonight.”

Rosé nearly threw her flute in an attempt to prevent a spill as she burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth.

“Lisa! There are always cameras waiting outside, I can’t do that,” Jennie protested.

“Then keep your head down,” Lisa giggled, rubbing her hand on your crotch. “As long as there’s a fresh load plastered all over your face, I’m happy.”

“It’s not like it’ll be the only load on your face tonight,” Rosé snickered, finally composing herself enough to speak up. “Lisa, I think it’s a great idea.”

“Thanks Rosie,” Lisa smiled. “So, what do you say?”

“I am not leaving this limo with cum on my face.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to find your own entertainment tonight,” Lisa taunted, rubbing her hand on your crotch. “This one’s all mine.”

“Oh come on, it’s like a two second walk to the door and we all try to hide our faces anyway,” Rosé attempted to convince her. “No one’s even going to see anything.”

“It just feels so wrong,” Jennie sighed, looking directly at you. “You’re fine with this? Knowing if people see me leave this limo with my face plastered and only one man gets out with me…”

Without even responding, you turned to Lisa and gave her a kiss.

“That answers that,” Rosé giggled.

“Lisa are you fucking serious, this is what you want?”

“I don’t remember stuttering,” Lisa replied casually. “Come on, we’re not even that far, the clock is ticking.”

“Unbelievable,” Jennie muttered as she got off her seat and onto her knees in front of you. She reached forward for your buckle when your hands instinctively grabbed her. “How can you possibly be shy, you have literally fucked each of us,” Jennie laughed.

“Multiple times,” Rosé chimed in, leaning back, all excited for the upcoming show.

“I’m not shy, I just-”

“Look at me,” Lisa whispered, each syllable dripping with sensualism, as she gently used her hand to turn your face towards her. “Keep your eyes on mine the whole time,” she commanded, eye contact locked on you. With one hand she motioned for Jennie to get started. “Don’t look at her even a single time.”

As Jennie started to undo your pants and pull them down to your knees, you followed Lisa's instructions and kept your eyes locked on hers. You didn't even look when you felt fingers clutch your shaft or when Jennie's tongue made contact with your cock a second later.

Her eyes remained fixed on you. That expression, so dispassionate, gave you the impression that she was in charge - not the girl sucking your cock. You met her gaze with a direct stare. Only when you weren't actively pushing your cock into her could you see the sweet, loving, and caring side of Lisa. The side of Lisa you could see behind her warm eyes.

It seemed as though you raised your hands to her face in silence. The infrequent slurps from Jennie's mouth were less noticeable than Lisa's lips, which were what truly captured your attention. Those velvety lips that begged for more. She leaned forward into you as you leaned forward - something Lisa never instructed you to do, something she didn’t need to tell you.

When your lips met, your eyes instinctively closed. Lisa didn't object; she kissed you back with the same fervor. Your whole body started to heat up, whether it was the kiss, the girl on her knees between your legs, or perhaps the alcohol was catching up to you. In reality, you knew Lisa’s passion was the cause.

Jennie’s slurps were becoming overwhelmingly loud. Your cock was completely covered in her saliva as she used her mouth to play with your tip while her hand stroked you as fast as she could. She knew you were getting close, she could feel it, and she was right.

There was no way your cock would hold on much longer, especially not while Lisa’s tongue invaded your mouth. For the second time today, kissing Lisa was going to launch you right over the edge, shattering any hopes of extending the current situation. You waved your arm in Jenne’s direction, barely making contact with her head.

She understood the cue and took her mouth off your tip, keeping pace with her hand as she tilted her face towards the roof of the limo. She held herself perfectly steady in your peripheral vision, struggling to keep a solid grip on your cock thanks to all the spit she had left on it.

Lisa could also feel your climax coming as she let go of you and went back to staring directly into your eyes. Her hand reached down, joining Jennie’s hand, and started to fondle your balls.

That was it, that did it for you.

Even without seeing it, you knew that first gush of cum made a line all the way across Jennie’s face. The shocked squeal she let out also confirmed it. Your cock started pulsing, unloading the warm cum presumably all over Jennie’s face. You kept pumping away, while staring Lisa in the eyes, her deadly gaze had softened considerably and she was even smiling warmly now. As the final dribbles of cum spilled out of your cock, you felt Jennie’s hand leave your shaft.

“Go ahead and look at your masterpiece,” Lisa whispered, her hand still fondling your balls.

In front of you, with her eyes still closed, was Jennie with her face shining. There were linear streaks of white all over her face, with a considerable amount getting into her hair. You didn’t realize just how big of a load you blew onto her face it was until now.

“Wow,” you muttered softly, earning a laugh from Rosé who you just now noticed was using a tissue to wipe her arm. “Did I?”

“Yes you did,” Rosé snapped immediately before laughing again.

“Don’t wipe any of it off,” Lisa instructed Jennie before bending over your lap and going for any of the white mess that didn’t make it onto Jennie’s face.

“I fucking hate you,” Jennie whined, looking at herself on her phone. “You got so much into my hair.”

“S-Sorry,” you gasped, Lisa’s tongue offering no reprieve as it attacked your sensitive tip.

“He’s not sorry at all,” Rosé added between laughs. “Look at him, he’s ready to give you round two.”

“My fault,” Lisa smirked as she sat back up, holding your once-again erect cock in her hand. “We’ll have to deal with this later, we’re here.”

“That was humiliating,” Jennie whined, touching up her makeup after tossing away the tissues she used to wipe her face clean. “I think one of them saw.”

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Rosé giggled, handing Jennie a brush for her hair. “And there’s no way anyone saw, I’ve never seen you run that fast in my life.”

“Are you kidding? Did you hear the shit they were saying,” Jennie grumbled. “It’s fine when I’m inside, but who knows who those people out there are, they don’t get to see me like that.”

“They weren’t saying anything, calm down.”

“I’m sorry babe,” Lisa purred as she gently stroked your cock. “I know what can make you feel better though.”

“I’m not even in the mood anymore,” Jennie scoffed, putting the brush down.

“Jennie? Are you actually upset?” Lisa asked, pausing her handjob, suddenly full of concern.

“She’s just being dramatic,” Rosé chuckled before grabbing Jennie’s hand. “Come on, let’s go get you some alcohol,” she added as she pulled Jennie out of the room. She paused at the door to look back at you and Lisa with a wink.

“She’s fine,” you tried to reassure Lisa as she looked at you.

“You’re probably right,” she sighed. “But you should not be able to speak right now,” she added before replacing her graceful strokes with aggressive pumps. “Come on baby, cum for me.”

The next couple of minutes were a blur. You remembered her hand, you remembered her kissing your neck, but nothing else was in your head right until you felt warmth shooting out of your cock.

“Lisa,” you huffed, turning to the girl as she wiped her hand clean. “You sure you’re okay with me fooling around with her tonight?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” she cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Just making sure, I’ve never done anything without your permission before.”

“Right… and you have my permission tonight,” Lisa replied slowly, smiling in a confused manner at you. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but really I wouldn’t put you in this situation if I wasn’t okay with it.”

“Unorthodox…” you repeated slowly. “Sometimes I wonder how I lucked out so hard to have such a wild life,” you laughed, grabbing Lisa by her waist.

“It’s not that wild,” Lisa giggled as you pulled her close. “A bit of meaningless fucking never hurt anyone.”

“Speaking of meaningless fucking…”

“Not yet,” Lisa stopped you as you kissed her neck.

“Whoa, did baby girl just say no to sex? There’s really a first for everything.”

“I did not say no,” Lisa scoffed. “I just don’t want my makeup all messed up just yet,” she added coyly.

“Who said I have to mess up your makeup?”

“I did, because that’s exactly what you’re going to do later tonight when you fuck my throat.”

“You’re going to say that and then keep me waiting.”

“You just came twice in like fifteen minutes, a break wouldn’t hurt,” Lisa laughed as she wiped you clean with a tissue.

“As if that’s out of the norm,” you chuckled. “How about I eat you out.”

“That’s a nice offer, but we’ll do all that properly later tonight,” Lisa giggled before getting up and running to the door. “Go find where those two just went, or look for Jisoo, she’s probably bored out of her mind being here all alone for so long. I gotta meet up with a couple of my friends, they said they’d be here.”

“Wait, you want me… without you?”

“Why are you pretending like you forgot how to use your dick,” Lisa chuckled, wearing a confused expression again as she looked at you.

“Lisa…” you paused to stand up and walk over to her. “Ever since that night I met you, I’ve never touched any of them without you being there.”

She gave you a small bend of her head and the cutest eyes in the world.

“Baby,” she hesitated. “I’ve never thought about that, but you’re right.”

“Are you still fine with it?”

“Of course,” Lisa smiled warmly. “I guess you’re unofficially joining our agreement, nothing that happens at these parties can be held against you. Only my bandmates though, I meant what I said about no random whores.”

“I’m fine with that,” you leaned forward and kissed her cheek before grabbing a handful of her ass. “I’m going to be thinking of you the whole time though.”“Awhh baby, that sounds so wrong, but it’s strangely sweet,” Lisa giggled, wrapping her arms around your neck. “And all night I’m going to be thinking of how you’re going to fuck my throat later.”

---

A/N:

Honestly, ending this chapter way earlier than I had planned because I want to try staying near that 5k word mark, and there wouldn't be a better place to pause. I have the entire plan for the next chapter already good to go, just gotta finish writing it, all I'll say is next chapter will most likely be when some stupid romantic lovey-dovey bs happens, and obviously more smut.

Now the thing that everyone keeps asking me. "WHEN ARE YOU UPDATING, WHEN IS NEW CONTENT COMING, WHERE ARE YOU". I am still alive <3, I've been trying to update you guys when I can, I'm still just busy with life. I don't have much time to work on my writing nowadays, but let me try giving you an update. I know this chapter is going to feel kinda short, just bear with me! Hopefully the next chapter will come out with a shorter break!

Currently still working on like 5 different pieces. My next upload might just be the next chapter of this story. If not this story, my guess would be Karina (+Winter). Very unlikely the Twice story will get an update next, and somewhat unlikely the LSFM story will get an update next. It's possible, but those two stories get a bit more effort on my end in terms of long-term plot, so it'll depend on how much time and energy I have to write.

As always, feel free to give any feedback you feel like giving. I still value it, even though this hobby is taking a bit of a back seat for me. I am fairly certain the quality of writing is not as good, but it's okay, I know I'm busy and it's just a casual way for me to release some of my horniness into the world. I don't take this hobby too seriously!

#kpop smut #smut #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #male reader #blackpink smut

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kurogxrix · 6 months ago

Text

Fallin’ For Ya

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

IN WHICH Bucky finds himself standing in front of your door with a bouquet of roses, wondering when he’s ever allowed his stone-cold mafia heart to fall in love with you .

WC: 2k

Warnings: FLUFF, suggestive innuendos, mentions of violence, nervous Bucky.

Being part of the mafia had led Bucky to abandon things a younger version of himself had once dreamt of. Nothing was easy about the violence and constant crashing that was now a normal part of his daily routine, which was why now, it had Bucky wondering why and when had he ever allowed things to get this way.

By the time he’d fully emerged himself in this type of lifestyle, he’d sworn that he’d never get affiliated with any women. To keep himself and them safe, he’d said. The only women he’d had during these years had been there solely to satisfy needs, romance never really had a place in his relations. Now, as he stood right in front of your front door, feet tucked neatly in the perimeters of your ‘welcome’ mat, he knew that he was done for.

He’d met you months ago in some fancy restaurant downtown, somehow hanging in one that wasn’t in his own branch of businesses. You’d been a waitress there, the only one amongst the endless list of waiters. Just to your luck, you’d been assigned the table in the VIP lounge, and to your horror, you were met face-to-face with the city’s renowned mob. You wondered what he’d been doing here when he probably owned half of the business in the city. For all you knew, this restaurant wasn’t one of his branches, but it could as well be if he’d wished for it.

Trying to pretend like you weren’t about to shit yourself shitless, you’d entered the room with a masked confidence that had Bucky grinning behind his glass of whisky. He’d approached you that night, pretended to be interested in the cocktail you’d been assembling for one of his mates behind the bar, wondering why you were doing all of this when all you were was a simple waitress.

You couldn’t tell what had taken you that night, and why you’d decided to strike a conversation with New York's most dicey mafia boss, but you had nevertheless. You’d told him how they practically had you doing everything here whilst the rest of the crew just lazed around, how your pay was just quite enough to afford some shitty apartment a few blocks from here despite’s the restaurants reputation.

Conversation flowed easily from there on, and anyone with eyes could see that Bucky had taken a liking to you instantly, even going as far as offering you a spot as a worker of his own. You’d work in one of his bars, or one of his own restaurants and you’d get paid above what he believed was a decent amount. You’d refused at first, afraid of what consequences could evolve from linking yourself with the mafia.

He didn’t let that discourage him, and before you even knew it, the mob boss had become one of your favourite visitors at the restaurant, even when it was just him coming to meet you in the alley beside the establishment after your shift. You’d grown fond of the man, despite his reputation, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see some romantic undertone to your newfound friendship.

Back at your door, Bucky looked like he did most of the time, clad in his dark suit with his hair neatly slicked back with an unhealthy amount of gel that he somehow always managed to pull off. Minus the few days where he’d be drenched in blood, crimson droplets ruining the crisp white fabric of his shirt just as it tainted his hands. The occasional bruises and black eyes were also kept at bay, much to Bucky’s relief.

He couldn’t quite stand still, unlike the calm and reserved man that’d be present even in the most disastrous situations. Bucky never had any issues putting a front on before, so why the fuck was it so hard to do so now?

He had a feeling that it had something to do with the fact that he had rung your doorbell about a minute ago, and the shuffling that he could hear inside was getting louder and louder by the second. Perhaps it was because of that comical large bouquet that he so happened to have laying in his arms. It was so big that he had had a few issues squeezing it past the tight corridors of your apartment complex, but nothing to worry about.

Bucky was suddenly hit with an unexpected

feeling of discomfiture, still unaware of why his palms felt so sweaty. It was nearly 1 in the morning as the dim lights of the corridors attempted to illuminate him pathetically. The mob boss shuffled nervously on his feet, wondering if he should make a run for it while he still had time.

‘Yes, run like a coward’ a strange voice resounded in the back of his mind, and the thought had him sucking in his breath and planting his feet back firmly on the mat. The door suddenly bustling open left him short of time for anymore unwanted thoughts to resurface, and instead, he snapped his eyes towards the opening of the apartment, where in return he met your own gaze.

It didn’t take a genius for him to notice that something was different with you, only by looking at your eyes. Your eyelashes were laying lower, lighter and absent of the pigmented paste you’d always have coating them. Then his eyes drifted further down your face, noting the confused look you had plastered on. Your bare face greeted him, free of the makeup he’d always see you in when you were outside of the comfort of your little home.

Your home, if he could even call it that. It looked like a studio at best, and he’d be damned trying to understand how you were able to live in such a cramped place. The concept of money wasn't necessarily something that boys who grew up rich understood, especially not when he harboured a mansion in a nice neighbourhood with body guards patrolling his house day and night.

“James? Can I help you?” the sound of your voice, as angelic as he found it, had been drowned somewhere in the back of Bucky’s mind as he took you in fully. The huge assortment of flowers shifted in his arms as he did so on his feet, eyes roaming the way your hair was down and unkept, large and baggy sweatpants adorning the legs he’d usually see solely in short pencil skirts while you worked the day and evening off.

Your arms were spread out, hands holding each side of the door frame as you leaned your

body weight onto them, waiting for an answer from the seemingly baffled mob boss. Baby blue eyes drifted down to your torso, where your usually blouse-clad chest was now wrapped solely in a thin tank top that served you as a sleep shirt. The straps were tiny, and the sight of your bare shoulders made him feel like a man in the Victorian era catching sight of an ankle for the first time.

Against his own will, his eyes remained trained on your chest for longer than he’d liked to admit. You’d probably kick him in disgust if you knew of the sinful images that were running wildly through Bucky’s mind at the moment, and all that took was you in an excuse of a top, and a little bit of untamed imagination on his part. It was hard to keep on pretending like he didn’t feel for you in the way he’d been trying to keep at bay, especially now that he was face to face with you, and his mind would not

give him a break.

Admisdt everything, Bucky had the sudden realisation that seeing you so comfortable and out of your work customary attire raised an unwanted feeling of domesticity inside of him that brewed and threatened to explode. He didn’t mind seeing you bare faced, clad in oversized garments that most likely did little justice to the body you hid beneath.

In fact he knew he was screwed by the way his heart raced with the need to see you in such a way more often, like something he’d crave for at the end of each gruelling day of work. He knew he couldn’t afford to wish for it, yet his heart ached at the lack.

“Hey, are you okay?” The concern in your voice had Bucky snapping back to reality, a shudder running down his back at the ungodly thoughts he’d just had of you. Suddenly aware of how idiotic he looked standing there idly with a humorous bouquet in his hands, he knew he had to justify his presence before you freaked out and just closed the door on him.

“Just passing by, checking how you were.” he shrugged, acting as nonchalant as he could with his heart beating so fast at the simple sight of you. Bucky still felt tense, awkward as he stood in the cramped hallway, wishing he’d thought twice before going to the florist and heading here with no second thought.

You’d seemed to have noticed his discomfort, stepping away from the door slightly as you nodded softly towards the opening behind you. “Come in, we can talk there.” you offered, ever so the kind being.

Bucky had noticed the way your eyes had been switching from the array of roses in his hands and back to his gaze as you spoke to him, trying to act like you weren’t dying to know if he’d gotten them for you.

He gathered the courage that he never guessed he should have to as the man that he was, before extending an arm to you. It took him all but a solid minute to gather up the courage he didn’t know he’d have to gather, before extending an arm to you, the beautiful arrangement of flowers standing now right before your face.

“I’ve uhm…i’ve brought these for you.” he muttered.

Words couldn’t start to express the way Bucky felt the second he saw that smile raise up on your lips, one that you reserved for shy moments like these. He couldn’t help the way the corner of his own tilted up into a grin, your joy was infectious. He felt the air getting stuck in his airway as you tilted your head slightly to the side, muttering a shy ‘thank you’ before grabbing the bouquet with both hands.

Bucky rejoiced in the way the bouquet dwarfed you, looking absolutely silly beside the arrangement that most likely measured thrice the size of your head. He’d wondered now that he was standing before your home, of how and where you’d even store the flowers, but that didn’t matter. He’d buy you a whole mansion now if you’d asked him, even if it was just to fit the flowers.

Bucky watched as you started walking back in, but not without turning your head back and signalling him to enter after you. Then, you’d made your way inside without a second look at the flustered man at your doorstep.

He wasn’t sure how the night was going to go, if he’d wake up tomorrow to his suit scattered across the wooden flooring of your home, or if the night would end young and he’d see himself driving back home in just a few hours. Either way, the mafia boss just couldn’t quite seem to care, because as long as he’d get to spend the moment with you, he’d be rejoiced.

You, the woman who’d managed to incrust herself in the tiny crevices of his hardened heart without having to do much but be herself. He’d realised then, making his way into your home as he shrugged his suit jacket off of his now relaxed shoulders, that he was truly, falling for you.

short and sweet just like me. lol. Anyways hope y’all liked it😚

#bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader

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swanimagines · 8 months ago

Note

Hey! Could you write headcanons for Being the Peaky Blinders’ nurse? Thanks so much!

When you first got one of the Shelby’s to your little clinic, you were surprised instead of being afraid.

The Shelbys weren’t exactly good people, but they were kind to those who lived in the area, helping them in exchange for not snitching on them.

So you didn’t think twice when you ushered them to lay the man on your table and started examining him.

It was John - bruises covering his body, him groaning in pain as you twisted and pressed around him to find any broken bones.

He had a nasty gash on his side and bruises, but nothing more serious.

So you disinfected his gash and wrapped it up, before you called out to his brothers to come and pick him up.

“A week of rest and lots of water helps a lot,” you instructed them. “But if he gets a fever, bring him back immediately.”

And that was that, they thanked you and left.

You thought it was the last time you’d see them, at least for a while – but then they kept coming back.

You didn’t really understand why, your little clinic at the corner of two backstreets, on the verge of bankruptcy, when they could afford going to one of the fancier places near where the injury happened.

Not that you complained of course, they paid you handsomely.

But to your surprise, those payments weren’t enough as a large company bought the building complex where you had your clinic, and you were forced to close it.

You wandered around Birmingham for a week or two, trying to make up a way to feed yourself and pay the rent for your flat.

And then…

Tommy Shelby himself appeared at your door.

“I have a proposition,” he started, handing you an envelope. “We have a free room at the Garrison, you could practice your clinic there. In exchange, you would take care of our gang.”

You eyed him for a moment before you peeked into the envelope. Hundreds of pounds laid there, enough to pay off months of rent in advance. You frowned.

“Why me?”

He was quiet for a moment. “You help without questions, are good at what you do and are currently struggling.”

You stared at him for a moment longer, fiddling with the envelope, before you nodded. “Let me get my suitcase.”

The room at the Garrison was bigger than you expected—not as big as at your clinic, but plenty of room to do whatever you needed. And you remembered occasionally thinking that you could get by with a smaller room.

So, you began your work.

The gang was your priority, but you were allowed to take other customers for extra coin.

Not that there were many, but you were content treating the gang only too - they paid you well, you had money to live comfortably.

Sometimes, they invited you to have a drink or two with them.

In case you fell sick, Polly and Ada took care of you.

Hot tea, warm blankets, soup.

They fell like they were your mother and sister those times, by how caring they were.

Eventually, you moved to live closer to Garrison, Tommy pitching in to help you with costlier rent.

Finn growing up meant he spent time at your clinic a lot. He got into trouble almost daily and came back with bruised or bleeding knees, and you were constantly patching him up.

And Arthur needed your help after he returned from fighting rings, or when he had wandered around and got into trouble while drunk.

You grew to be an important part of the gang, something you didn’t expect.

And they, in turn, grew to be important to you too.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S)

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #john shelby #polly gray #arthur shelby #finn shelby #tommy shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #polly gray x reader #arthur shelby x reader #finn shelby x reader #reader insert #my works

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monster-effer · 13 days ago

Note

Could I request head canon where the LADS guys find out reader/mc smokes? It’s a bad habit but she’s trying to stop 🙈🙈

Absolutely! Here you go <3

Sylus

You are taking a smoke break on your balcony after a very stressful mission. And Mephisto is doing his daily surveillance of you and your apartment building. When he gets enough footage of your new smoking habit, he reports back to Sylus.

After he’s informed, Sylus gives you a call “You know, smoking is a very unhealthy habit kitten.”

“How do you know that I smoke?”

“A little birdie told me.”

From then on, when you buy a carton of cigarettes they mysteriously go missing from your balcony, living room table and even from your purse?!?

Sylus arranges the periodic delivery of nicotine gum to your apartment for 2 months straight.

He also makes more of an effort to reach out to you. Both you and Sylus have busy schedules, but he always will make room in his schedule for you.

After a few months of these shenanigans you realize that you haven’t smoked in a while. Your craving for cigarettes has diminished to almost nothing. And even when you do feel that urge, you don’t hesitate to call Sylus. Because you know he will always be there for you.

Caleb

After the explosion where you assumed both Caleb and granny passed away you were emotionally in shambles. But you are a hunter now and it is your responsibility to protect the public from wanderers and wrong doers alike. In effort to suppress your emotions you picked up a bad habit, which happened to be smoking. It began with you trying out a cigarette one day, then it evolved into you going through one carton per week.

You don’t think you’ll ever get over losing Caleb and your grandma in one fell swoop. But when he makes his way back into your life you are shook to say the least. You really want to kick your smoking habit mainly because you don’t want Caleb to find out about it. But it has a hold on you now.

Since you’ve been spending time at Caleb’s Skyhaven apartment you tend to leave things behind. One time, you leave behind a lone cigarette which leads to Caleb discovering your new habit.

Caleb does not hesitate to confront you about it “Princess is this really a habit conducive to being a hunter? And…what if something happens to you? I don’t know what I’d do if you developed cancer from this.”

Once you two have a heart to heart about why you started smoking, Caleb starts to take advantage of the amount of leave afforded to him from the from the DAA. He is spending more quality time with you after work and on the weekends to make sure you don’t have to resort to smoking when you’re feeling down.

He purchases out an old gaming system so you two can play co-op games together like you did in your childhood. He cooks you whatever meal you request to keep you happy and well fed.

You start to spend more time at his Skyhaven apartment than your own. One day while you lounge in the living room and Caleb cooks in the kitchen, the sudden realization that you haven’t even thought about smoking in weeks pops into your mind. You don’t know how to thank Caleb for helping you break this habit. But what you do know is from today forward, you no longer need to fill the void in your heart with cigarettes because you have him.

Zayne

He majorly disapproves of your smoking habit. He goes straight into doctor mode and lectures you on the multiple risks that come with smoking including:

Slowed wound healing Cancer risk Increased risks of heart disease and stroke Osteoporosis COPD

He gives you tips on quitting like sucking on hard candy, chewing gum or eating fruit when you feel that urge. He frequently goes on walks with you to reduce your stress because you started smoking due to your heavy work schedule as a hunter.

He helps keep you accountable by checking the ash tray at your home for any evidence of smoking and offering to test you for smoking when you come in for annual doctor visits.

Although his approach may seem strict, your health and wellbeing means the world to him. You are the love of his life and he wants you to be healthy.

Xavier

Since he lives a floor above you he is on his balcony one evening and looks down to see you smoking a cigarette. Xavier is surprised because he’s never noticed this habit of yours.

To confirm that this wasn’t his tired mind playing tricks on him he decides to spy on you some more. Over the next 3 weeks Xavier makes it a habit to peak down towards your balcony. And so far he’s seen witnessed you smoking 3 times a week, at minimum.

He softly brings it up to you as you two laze around on your couch after a session of stuffing your faces together.

“So…when did you become a smoker?”

You feel a bit ashamed because you’ve been trying hard to break this habit. But you won’t lie to him.

“Honestly, I picked up the habit one day after a stressful mission. And I’ve been smoking ever since.”

Xavier tilts his head to the side as he listens to your explanation. “If I can help you relieve stress in a different way, will you give up cigarettes?”

You look towards Xavier in confusion. His beautiful cerulean eyes have darkened like they do when he is feeling lustful. Your breath hitches in your throat at what he’s suggesting.

“Hmm I’m not sure. Why don’t we try it out a few times to see if it helps,” you reply cheekily.

By the time Xavier is done with you, you are worn out and noticeably less stressed. This just may work, and if it doesn’t, you’re going to enjoy trying.

Rafayel

When Rafayel finds out that you smoke cigarettes he is surprised about it. But that surprise morphs into concerns for your health. He broaches the topic by saying “Ms. Bodyguard, how can I expect you to protect me if you start wheezing during cardio because you smoke cigarettes?”

When that teasing remark doesn’t seem to get through to you, he brings out the big guns. He begins to pout and gives you puppy dog eyes. “What would Reddie think?”

After you two talked about why you started smoking and what it does for you, Rafayel makes it his mission to pester you (with love) more than usual.

text: [pic] Here’s a pic of Reddie, he says he hopes you’ve been smoke free today.

“Hey, I was in the neighborhood and I decided to drop off some nicotine gum.”

“Why am I here? You texted me about how stressed you are. So I will be your personal masseuse for the evening.”

text: EMERGENCY, COME ASAP. You arrive at his home just to find out that Rafayel wanted your opinion on his most recent painting and wanted to get seafood together.

You’re enjoying the increased quality time with Rafayel and although it pains you to admit it, it has been helping. You have not had the time nor energy to think of let alone go out to buy cigarettes since you confided in him about your smoking habit. Both him and Reddie are your little family and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #caleb x reader #zayne x reader #headcannons #anonies #asks #monster-effer

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jwanniie · 10 months ago

Text

Pairings: Huh Yunjin x Ceo fem reader!

Warnings: Yunjin is a pervert, tit job, subby Yunjin, reader has kinda big boobs, body worship, not proofread, use of straps, mention of pregnancy and breeding, breeding kink, filthy smut, basically porn with plot!!!!

word count: about 1,2 k

request!

꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱꒰꒰⁐

The first time Yunjin met you was in her first ever job interview, and poor girl forgot her whole speech that she was last night trying so hard to memorize. She was a little bit early for the interview so your secretary let her sit in your office, waiting for you on the black leather chair in front of your expensive looking desk. Your name was written on a name tag on the desk.

“Y/n L/n!” Yunjin tasted the name few times, it was a unique and memorable name, not many people having it.

She took a big gulp of the fancy welcome drink, even the free welcome fucking drink was something an average employee wouldn’t afford, but here you are giving them daily for free.It seemed like money was like rice to you.

Yunjin got out of her thoughts when hearing a door getting unlocked, she saw your curves from your silhouette, you stepped in the room before locking the door behind you.

You studied Yunjins features while she just sat there mouth in an o:shape and eyes wide. Your eyes traveled to the drink that was in front of her, on the small table in front of the leather chair and it was almost empty.

“You must have liked the welcome drink!” You said, flashing a sweet sincere smile towards her way before sitting down on your chair.

Yunjin was awestruck, no, flabbergasted. In a good way of course, you were the sexiest woman she has ever saw and in the most beautiful way.

Your aura alone could make anyone fall in love, the type of femme fatale but the sweet version, expensive old money, and the little bit older type of woman.

Your tight skirt complimenting your curves and ass, the first two buttons from your blouse unbuttoned, the valley of your boobs slightly showing while your hair was down your shoulders. And the most gorgeous genuine smile on your face. She had literal heart eyes staring at you, and you noticed.

You damn well know you are good looking, in fact you, yourself think that you are gorgeous and sexy. The vibe of your confidence was being sensed and that also made you even more attractive.

You immediately noticed that Yunjin was slightly out of it, pupils blown and eyes having sparkles while only humming at your question.

“I asked you a question miss Yunjin!” You said timidly, eyes looking at her and as soon as she processed what you said she looked embarrassed.

“Excuse me?” Her voice was low and she looked at you in hopes you could repeat the question.

“I don’t really like to repeat myself miss Yunjin.” You stood from your chair walked towards where she was sitting and sat on the other leather chair that was in front of her chair.

She gulped nervously. Her eyes couldn’t help but to travel to your chest, her mouth watered at the way your elbows were pushing your plushy tits together.

The only thought in her head was to suck on those like a baby, only if she had a dick she swore she would breed you till those tits were spilling milk.

She didn’t notice how you moved towards one of your drawers and took one of your favorite pink glitter straps, and sat again in front of her the strap in your hand.

Her eyes looked at it and you swore her jaw could have went out of place. Her eyes looking at you curiously but there was a hint of excitement. That made you excited to have her bounce this gummy material.

“Come here” you demanded and in her whole life she wasn’t this fast to follow orders, she was in front of you standing looking eyes full of hope and excitement. Arousal was gushing down her panties that you almost could smell it. While she fiddled with her hands.

“Undress me.” You said giving her a smug grin. She looked slightly hesitant of what you said. Rethinking did she heard you correctly but at the end her hand found your blouse buttons.

Buttoning them so fast that she almost ripped them. Her eyes were all over your chest. From the lacy bra straps to your nipples. You wore a sexy black lace bra, just like what she could have imagined someone like you wearing, but oh this was ten times better now that she’s seeing it in real life.

Her hand squeezed your boob without even asking and you couldn’t even deny her, at the end this felt heavenly. She went towards your back and unclasped the bra. The lacy material falling to the ground. Her wet muscle licked your sensitive bud, a shiver running down your spine while she let out a loud moan of satisfaction.

Her hand traveled down to your skirt, sliding it down revealing the lacy black panties that were matching with your bra. Your own wetness slightly damping the leather chair while she was dangerously close to your core, she licked a stripe your wetness, the intoxicating taste filling her taste buds.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” She mumbled, her head falling back. You wore the strap and signaled Yunjin to come. She tossed her clothes somewhere in your office before sinking down on the glittery material.

You held her hips firmly and your touch made her melt, she was all smily and giggly, jumping up and down on the pink strap. Curses falling out of her mouth while loud whimpers found their way from her vocal cords.

It was the hottest sight indeed, she was fucking herself so desperately. She took one of your boobs before trying to make it fit in her mouth, even after knowing that no way that would fit in her mouth. She sucked so hard, that you felt your nipples being sore and your chest was full of red-ish and purple-ish marks. She continued thrusting herself down your length.

The pad of your finger went towards her clit rubbing it roughly, helping her to cum faster. High pitched moans now louder while your other hand gripped her waist to ease her down on the strap.

She felt in cloud nine, anytime soon she would be splashing her juices down your core. Her eyes rolled back deeply every time your strap reached a sensitive toe curling point. Hitting every spot perfectly.

Her hand was grasping your hair harshly, her nails sinking down your scalp.

“I-I’m..c-cumming!” She screamed out before her juices ran down her thighs and the strap, soaking your stomach.

She pounded herself on the material slowly but deeply. Riding out her orgasm.

“I should hire you, you impressed me!” You combed her hair with your free hand while her head was on the crook of your neck.

“But before that, you should show me how good you can do.” You continued and she looked at you all smily while nodding her head fast. Getting off your lap and taking off the strap from you, wearing it herself.

She definitely would be your favorite worker!

#huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin x reader smut #huh yunjin x you #huh yunjin x fem reader #huh yunjin x reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim yunjin smut #le sserafim yunjin #yunjin smut #yunjin x reader #yunjin x fem reader #le sserafim #le sserafim huh yunjin #jennifer huh #jennifer smut #huh yunjin #yunjin

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kumasakka · 3 months ago

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. a.shin x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. he laid his eyes on you the first time you stepped into the shop and you were a different kind of beauty .

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~0.8k .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. eesome — (adj.) pleasing to the eye. written to be fluff, kinda plantonic though. f!reader. crack. written in 3rd pov. spoiler - free. safe for minors! crappy writing ( when was the last time I wrote? ). edited.

　BEAUTIFUL. That was the only thought that crossed Asakura Shin's mind as soon as a beautiful girl set a foot into the store, Sakamoto's store, the self-proclaimed no. 1 safest shop in Japan. It was kinda true though with the legendary, ex-hitman Sakamoto Taro working here, assisted by Asakura Shin himself, it must be the safest shop. Well but come back to the present.

His black eyes followed her figure, unfortunately not being able to catch a glimpse of her face and yet he could already tell that she was a different kind of beauty. She wore an old-fashioned white dress, matching her big white hat made out of sinamay that covered her face while she gracefully carried herself in those cinderella high heels through the whole shop.

Shin would bet that she could probably afford other luxuries in those expensive, extravagant shops, so why was she here? Nonetheless he won't judge. After all, here is a pretty customer. As much as he wanted to ask for her number, he didn't dare to be near her, only waiting behind the counter while gripping onto the wooden table with his sweaty hands. God. He wants to read her mind, but he also didn't want to read her mind.

What if she thinks he's ugly? What if she was thinking bad about him in general? No, no. He will not hear those thoughts voluntarily.

"Excuse me?"

Not wasting a second, Shin immediately lifted his head and parted his lips to answer. "W— hi." he stuttered and greeted her with an easy-going hi as if they were good friends. Not once did Shin feel more embarrassed than right now. Oh god. The heck? He shuts his eyes for a second to calm himself down before opening his eyes again. What was your expression? How he would've loved to finally see her face.

"How can I help you?"

"Oh umm... I'm here to pay for my things, but I assumed you spaced out." her voice was smooth.

But he didn't have much time to think about that fact as his gaze sank down to the counter. Right. "S-Sorry..." he apologized, beet red because of the downright embarrassment while taking the scanner into one hand and the other grabbed the items. The silence was loud. His mind was racing with multiple thoughts while he silently hoped to see her face, wishing that she would lift her head anytime soon before she leaves the shop.

And somehow, god heard his prayers. The woman looked up the next moment, the shadow of her hat covered the upper part of her face. His black eyes met stoic, [e/c] ones. Wow. 'Beautiful.' was his thought—the thought he quietly whispered under his breath. And as soon as he realized that he said it out loud, he quickly looked down to your items again, his face red again, too shy to meet your gaze again.

"T-That makes 3.550¥ in dollar!" Shin said.

The sound of bills and coins being placed on the small silver tray and the rustling of the plastic bag being taken into hands echoed in his ears. "...Thank you for your purchase! Please visit us again." it's a line he says everyday, yet somehow it felt heavier than usual to let those daily words out of his mouth today. Shin didn't dare to meet her gaze again, leaving his head down as he waited for her to leave the shop.

'Cute.' ah, seems like he couldn't help himself but peek into her mind to get a taste of her thoughts. Short after hearing her thoughts, he looked up with slightly widened eyes. Did she just call him cute? "Could you please ring this up too?" she asked and placed a cat keychain on the counter, getting out her purse again. Lost in thoughts, he stood there for a while and stared at the woman. Well, he was staring for too long now.

　BEEP !

"Huh?!" Shin blinked rapidly and watched how she scanned the item herself. "W-What are you doing, ma'am?!"

"I helped myself..." she placed the money on the small silver tray again before she pointed the scanner at him and—

　BEEP !

"Ring yourself up too." he cannot take her serious even though her face showed him plain plainness, the keychain already attached to her keys. "You look like this keychain."

"EHHH?!"

'SHE THINKS I'M CUTE?'

a/n — shin is such a cutie <33

#❨🎐❩ 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 :: shitpost.#sakamoto days #sakamoto days x reader #shin asakura #shin asakura x reader #shin x reader

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exhaslo · 1 year ago

Note

Hi love! How are you? I’m so in love with your writing and I wanted to see if you could write something for me? 🥺 (only if your requests are open.)

I was wondering if you could write a Sugar daddy!Miguel? The reader is working at little club and notices her one night working, running all over the place serving drinks to other drunk people. Miguel calls her over for a drink and talks to her for a bit. He tells her “someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t be working in a place like this?” And offers her to be his sugar baby, she’s surprised at his request but takes it. After he spoils her she realizes she starts to have feelings for him and he does too. 🫶🏻💗

Sure thing! This might be late from when you originally requested, but I finally got it done! Haha. I won't do too much of a age difference, since I'm not too comfortable with large age gaps, but hell, sugar daddies can be the same age too!

Right??

Warning: Fluff, language, teasing, fluff fluff and fluff

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

Another day, another dollar. That's how you tried to keep motivated. Did it work? No, but your bills sure did play a part in getting your ass off the bed. Being an adult sucked. Where you worked, also sucked; but were you going to quit...Not yet.

Although, you were desperate for something new.

You hated your job. Working at a stripe club, serving drinks to drunk and perverts. It wasn't your ideal choice, but it was the only place that was willing to give you a chance. You couldn't afford to go to college and your bills were too high to wait for anything else.

You had been told by your boss that you'd make more money as a stripper, but to hell with that. You knew the risks and quite frankly, you were afraid to dance half naked in front of so many men. Though, it didn't stop you from getting some tips here and there.

"Another round over here, sweet cheeks!" One of your regulars called out.

You let out a huff, pouring more beers into glasses. Before hitting the floor, you fixed your booty shorts once more and hurried to him. The drinks hit their mouths before you even put them on the table.

"Geez, trying to hit a record? At least let me get them on the table before inhaling them," You teased.

"Drinks from you are too good to not have, baby. I'll take it nice and slow next round if you get on that stage."

"Not even in your dreams, pal." You huffed, walking to the next table.

You hated this place. You hated the customers. Hell, sometimes you hated the pay. It was not enough for the shit you had to deal with on a daily bases.

"(Y/N), VIP guest is requesting you from bring them a popular drink. Doesn't care which one, he just wants you to deliver it. Don't fuck this up." Your shitty manager said over the radio.

"Great."

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

Miguel let out an obvious sigh, signaling to his brother that he was not happy to be there. He would groan and grunt, but unfortunally Gabriel had gotten used to those noises and somehow tuned Miguel off. Honestly, it was a talent.

Since Miguel was forced to come to the club, he might as well have made the best of it. Miguel grabbed the VIP room and made himself comfortable. His sunglasses making him the center of attention sure did help with keeping Miguel seated in his seat.

He watched the crowds of men cheer towards the strippers, begging for more and throwing their money. Miguel exhaled softly, looking at his private stage. There was no need for him to be here. He should be outside, stopping crime.

"Miggy! Stop being such a brood and have fun!" Gabriel huffed, poking his head into the room. Miguel shrugged,

"I am having fun. See? I'm here."

"Such a bore."

Miguel rolled his eyes towards his brother. He hummed lowly, watching the people in the club. He furrowed his brows, spotting you run around with a scowl on your face. He couldn't help but smile. To think there was someone else in here who was just as unhappy as him.

Miguel pondered to himself. He had been wanting to do something risky lately. That and he was touch starved. Perhaps he could save someone tonight, but in a different matter. Hell, it could be fun too.

Requesting for you, Miguel leaned back in his seat and waited. With his heighten senses, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he heard you cuss under your breathe. By the time you arrived, you had a obvious fake smile against your lips and a tall, colorful drink in your hand,

"Hello! You requested me?" You asked sweetly. Miguel raised a brow as he took a sip of his drink,

"Couldn't help but noticed you working too hard out there," He said smoothly and motioned to the seat across from here, "Your boss can't see us from here. Take a break."

"Ha, you trying to get me fired?"

"Perhaps, if you're willing to listen and take my offer," Miguel said, continuing to force the sweet drink down his throat.

Miguel watched you hesitate before taking a seat. Your clothes were obviously too tight for you.

"So, what's your offer?"

"It's obvious that you're too good and beautiful for this job. So, hear this bored man out," Miguel tried to get you to smile, "I have too much money and not enough to spend it on. Would you allow me to waste it on you?"

"Huh? Like...Have you as my sugar daddy?" You questioned, observing him, "You only look a few years older than me. How can you be that rich?"

"Plenty of ways. I won't have you do anything you don't want. Just a date here or there, and in return you can spend as much money as possible on whatever you want."

"So....just a date in return?" You hesitated and glanced at the club, "I am being punked right?"

"Why would I lie?"

You glanced at the club once more, honestly considering the man's offer. You were desperate and what was the harm in just playing along for a date or two? If you can pay off your bills and get enough money, you could run away if things got too scary.

"Deal, I'm (Y/N)"

"Miguel."

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

Part of you still doubted Miguel and his offer. Even as you quit on the spot and held his card in your hand, you still doubted it. It was only until you officially paid off a bill and was asked on a date that it hit you. This was real. You nabbed yourself a Sugar Daddy.

And a hot one at that.

Honestly, you weren't too disappointed with your situation. Miguel was really kind to you and didn't ask for much. Your first few dates were honestly some of the best you've ever had. The most you did was hold hands and a small peck on the cheek here and there. It was sweet and simple.

You really only used his money to pay off your bills and do some small groceries here and there. Honestly, you were more into having another date with Miguel. He actually listened to you and took care of you. Something that made your heart flutter.

"Hey, Miguel, want to come over to my place tonight? I'll make dinner." You asked him over the phone.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I want you to come over," You said with a smile as you cleaned your apartment, "I want you to try my cooking for once."

"Then I'll be there."

---------

Miguel was honestly surprised by your request. He was new to this whole Sugar Daddy business and was enjoying it for what it was. Your little dates gave him energy after a long day of Alchemax and the Spider Society.

Your little touches made him want more. Honestly, Miguel was having a hard time holding back. He was enjoying this too much and wanted more from you, but that was not part of the deal. Miguel didn't want to push you away.

Swinging around the city, Miguel tried to think of ways to approach you in the matter. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to tell you that he liked you, but what if you didn't? Miguel only approached you because of how beautiful you were and how much you looked like you needed a break.

This wasn't part of the deal.

"But please say yes."

----------

You could feel the sweat on your palms as you finished prepping dinner. You even wore a sexy dress to get Miguel's attention. Hearing your door bell, you hurried over and let Miguel inside. You greeted Miguel and pecked his cheek, hiding your blush.

"Um, don't mind the mess." You motioned him inside. Miguel tried his best to keep his hands to himself,

"It looks fine. You on the other hand, beautiful." He hummed. You hurried to the table, placing the plate before him, "Smells amazing. You truly didn't have too."

"Like I said...I wanted too." You sat beside Miguel, watching his reaction, "I can only thank you for much. I want to show more of my appreciation."

"You don't have too, baby," Miguel rubbed your head, "I chose to take care of you."

"And if...I want more?"

"Money?"

"No!" You nearly yelled and inhaled deeply, "Sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice, but I'm not that greedy. I was wondering if maybe, I can give you more....affection."

"I don't want to force you to-"

"I want too!" You told Miguel, grabbing his hand, "Miguel, we've been in this relationship for about two months now. You've done so much for me and honestly...I really, really like you. I want to be with you and kiss you and-"

Miguel was the one to interrupted you this time as he pulled you into a kiss. Both of his hands cupped your cheeks, holding you in place. He could feel shivers run down his spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

This was what he needed. What he wanted. Thank whatever God listened, but Miguel was grateful that you shared his feelings in return. Breaking the kiss, Miguel stroked your lips and hummed in response,

"You are such a good girl for me," He whispered. You rested your forehead against his,

"You know, I never mentioned how much of a turn on that is whenever you say it."

You couldn't help but laugh as Miguel immediately grew flustered. He nudged his side and signaled towards his plate. Miguel cleared his throat and finished his meal alongside you. Once the two of you were done, you both decided to watch a movie.

More like make out on the couch.

Your Sugar Daddy soon turned into your 'Daddy' really quick. You now had new bills to worry about, aka pain killers and muscle relaxers because Miguel was a beast in bed.

But hell, it was worth quitting your job for him.

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

Waaaaaah, I hope you liked it!!!!

@tojishugetiddies

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n

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oimitocat · 2 months ago

Text

MANEATER — CHAPTER 1

lee heesung x m!reader

chapter summary; heesung finds out his grandmother’s restaurant is in danger. his path seems cloudy until a strange man opens a new one that seems partly cloudy.

chapter warning; violence + flirting + crying

content genre; minor angst

wc. – 3.6 k | m.list | likes n comments appreciated

“thank you for your help,” the old man says with a bow.

“you’re welcome, i really hope everything goes well now,” heesung says with a bright smile.

he stares up at the sky, it’s a chilly morning. his cheeks are flushed with a red hue as he walks down the street. another case closed, he’s thankful. he’s barely making ends meet and now he’ll be in a decent financial spot for a while.

once he’s home he’ll be on to the next case. he’s making a twenty minute walk home, plus the ten it takes him to stop by the store.

by the time he’s home it’s dark. the street light flickers and he happily announces his arrival.

“ma! i won the case!” he announces happily.

his grandmother claps her hands as he exits the kitchen. “oh sung! your mother would be so proud if she were here!”

heesung’s smile tightens. he never really answers those remarks. there’s no point. he loved his mother when she was alive, same for his father. yet, they weren’t very supportive of his career choice.

“it’s expensive, sung-ah,” they’d say. “why not choose something else?”

maybe they would be supportive to see he actually did make it. the fact that they would’ve only when he is being successful is what hurts. they would’ve complained about it even when the tuition money came out of his own pockets. his whole life he’s grown up thinking he had to limit himself within the hole in their pockets.

he had enough. growth is done out of sheer will, desperation and self worth. survival is done by your own merits alone.

“we had a good day today at the restaurant,” his grandmother says. she must have been talking the whole time heesung zoned out. “but i’m afraid i’m going to have to let go of your friend jay. i can’t afford to pay for his hours anymore, business isn’t doing as good as it did back then…” she says sadly, “most of the earnings go to the bills…”

heesung stares at her, heart heavy. if only he had enough money to help her.

“i know ma…” he takes her hand and soothes her with a small rub from his thumb, “jay won’t mind, he was planning on getting a job closer to his place. he technically has been working with you since we’ve been in high school… it’s been almost 8 years?”

she sniffles, “well… i’ll talk to him tomorrow… i guess i’m just sad since the first one to leave was you… he’s almost like a son to me too…”

his heart throbs. “i’ll go shower, okay?”

she nods, “alrighty…”

she watches him leave with a saddened smile. knowing he’s starving, she makes him a plate of food. heesung comes back out a few minutes later, freshened up and hair damp still. he has a few folders under his arm.

“you’re going to keep working? aren’t you tired?”

“i’m okay ma, the shower freshened me up,” he says with a smile and settle’s everything on the table. “i get off early from the office tomorrow, i’ll pass by the restaurant for my lunch and i’ll help you out if you want.”

she stares at him, “only if you can.”

“i can and i want to.” he says before digging in to the files.

the problem with heesung is that when he starts his filing or researching, he does it for hours. at some point his grandmother wishes him good night and he’s still swarming in his own choice. it’s around 1 AM when he finally wraps it up. he washes the dishes, not wishing for his grandmother to worry about that when she wakes and then heads to bed.

he’s used to the lack of sleep, normally running on 4 to 5 hours of sleep daily and either coffee or an energy drink.

he’s running late to the office too. a natural occurrence. running short on cash normally causes him to walk… in this case run, to the office.

“ah, you’re a little over ten minutes,” sunoo teases when he walks inside the office.

“if jungwon fires me i wouldn’t hold it against him,” heesung breathes out as he wipes away the bead of sweat on his forehead.

“jungwon would rather you work from home than come here, even he hates it here.”

“i don’t want to work at home yet,” heesung argues, walking to his office, sunoo following suit. “i know i have to care for my grandma but she’s perfectly capable of herself right now. he already lets me leave for a few hours here and there to check on her at the restaurant.”

“that reminds me,” sunoo says, sitting on the chair opposite of heesung. “i want her bulgogi with lettuce. when am i getting that.”

heesung pauses, looking over at him with a look. “do you have bulgogi money?”

“grandma lee never charges me! how dare you take advantage of a broke receptionist.”

“well then tell her, not me!” heesung huffs, “aish. and get out, i have a few works to do before leaving at twelve.”

“i doubt you’ll leave at twelve, you always leave about an hour later-“

“out!”

sunoo sticks out his tongue before leaving.

heesung shakes his head, smiling a bit as he logs in to his computer to start his work. later, after hours of investing into it, he wraps it up at around 12:10. the time bitters his mood, realizing sunoo is indeed right. not exactly an hour later but still not on time.

still, leaving early is a privilege no one else has here, so he packs up his things and heads out.

he’s walking down the busy street, lunch rush evident outside the block just as it is when he enters it. he bows politely at some of the market people before calling his grandmother.

“ma~,” he sing songs when she picks up.

“yes?” she asks softly, almost as if she were whispering.

“i’m on my way, do you need me to pick up anything-“

“heesung maybe you should head back to the office.” she says, her tone strange.

“ah, but i said i’d help you today-“

“heesung just listen to me and get back to the office. i don’t need to here today, my love,” she catches a sweet tone quickly, as if seeking any way to convince him.

“huh? ma, why are you being so-“ heesung trails off as he nears the restaurant. there’s suspicious men out, he panics. “ma i’m already here, why are there so many men-“

“who are you talking to?” a rough voice says.

without a shred of hesitation, heesung sprints. he pushes past the men at the gates. when one of them pulls at his bag strap, he throws a punch at their nose before continuing his path. his heart is rabbiting in his ribcage. he truly is taken aback by what’s happening.

“ma? are you-“ he gets punched from the side.

if it weren’t for his quick reflexes he’d probably be on the floor, but he throws a punch right back the guy. a kick to the stomach and throat is what gets the guy on the floor. yet, before he can turn to his sweet grandmother, a cold metal item is pressed against his nape. he freezes.

“now tell me who the hell are you and why you knocked out two of my men already.”

heesung would’ve peed himself from fear if it weren’t for the anger and adrenaline. “your men fucking suck at taking a punch.”

“he’s my grandson!” mrs.lee cries out from a table.

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t shoot him right now.” the man gruffs, a rough hand grabbing heesung’s arm, the grip painful.he moves heesung around to face the elder woman, “you got one minute.”

she’s practically pale from fear. “he’s a lawyer! he’ll help me pay the amount you're asking of me. h-he can double it if you’d even like.”

the fuck? heesung looks at her like she’s insane.

“a lawyer eh?” the man shoves heesung forward, harshly knocking him into the bench seats on the table his grandmother is in.

heesung catches himself and glares back at the man.

“listen, the rent for the restaurant is already five grand, bills and utilities included. but we won over this turf already, so you have to pay us to keep your little restaurant around. sadly, we don’t really want you to pay it, we’re buying this place and putting someone who works under us to have this as our meeting place. plus, your grandmother is old, she should retire already.”

heesung grits his teeth.

“you’ve got a few days to pay this months rent, our tax included, before we kick you out. and you either get kicked out without owing us money or you get licked out owing us the money, your choice.” he glares down at heesung, “and careful trying to go against us, it won’t be pretty.” he turns towards his men and gestures for their leave.

“they want to close the restaurant,” she says with teary eyes as soon as her and heesung are alone.

heesung stares at her before ripping the paper out of her hands. the demand is absurd. it’s sketchy but oh so believable. they know what they’re doing and exactly how to do it too. a few days? how many exactly? they don’t seem very lenient, if anything heesung is assuming three days at most.

“ma, this is…” he pauses, he can’t be brutal to her. “i’ll take care of it ma, remember, i’m the best lawyer you have ever met.”

she grabs his hand and rubs his knuckles with the pad of her thumb, her tears dripping down her face. “oh heesung…”

heesung is running to the office again. he had missed the bus, having checked and double, triple, quadruple checked the demand and whatever else is in that stupid paper they received last night. he looks horrendous, barely put together.

his grandmother had woken up as soon as she heard him cruse and run around to get ready. despite her emotional state, she prepared him a cup of coffee and cut him a slice of cake (she said it’s for sunoo but heesung doesn’t think the guy deserves it-)

heesung crashes face forward into a wall. actually, the wall isn’t that hard. he curses and almost loses his balance when he bounces back-

“woah there, you okay?” a voice asks, a hand coming behind his lower back to help him regain his balance.

“ah, my bad, i didn’t mean to!” heesung winces, seeing how the guy’s shirt is stained with coffee. the cake he was carrying in a small plate flew out to the floor but not without smearing itself on the man’s shirt.

all worry and panic leaves heesung when a few fingers grab his chin and force him to look to the side. is the guy fucking inspecting him?!

“that’s a nasty bruise you have there,” you say, darkened eyes gazing upon the purple thing.

heesung slaps your hand away, “couldn’t tell. please step aside, i have places to be.”

“oh? where would a pretty thing like you go in such a hurry?”

“none of your business,” heesung grits out.

this guy, heesung thinks bitterly in his mind.

“well i do have to remind you that you spilled coffee over my very expensive shirt. not just coffee, look i have chocolate smeared over right here-“

“okay i get it!” heesung groans as he watches you point out the very obvious. “i don’t got money though-“

“yet, you have coffee to go and-“

“my grandmother has a restaurant, i can get these things you know,” heesung grumbles, looking around in thought. “i could invite you to dinner.”

“oh a date,” you grin stupidly.

“forget it-“

“ah but you see this stain won’t let me forget-“

“argh!” heesung groans, slamming his head against the wall.

you watch him with amusement, “hey, now. don’t go messing up your whole face, i like what i see.”

“you’re an ass,” heesung huffs, “look, i really can’t entertain you for long. this is my grandmother’s restaurant,” he takes out a card and hands it to him, heesung always carries them around, never wasting an opportunity to promote. “just go there and tell her i invited you and she’ll understand.”

“oh? i won’t have the pleasure of seeing you?” you frown.

“hell no,” heesung blurts out. “i mean-“ ugh, maybe he should you look sketchy as fuck. “fine. i get off late today though.”

“just give me an estimated time,” you say casually, putting the card away in the pocket of your shirt. “and your name.”

“eight thirty,” he says. he eyes you before going, “heesung.”

you hum, eyeing him. he really is beautiful, how sad that he has a bruise on his cheek. cute too, with his furrowed brows and glare. “quite late for dinner, but i’ll take it.”

whatever, heesung huffs. “now if you excuse me i have to go.”

he walks around you before jogging back his path to the office. he’s so glad the coffee fell on you and not on him, as much as that sounds horrible. he can’t help it.

by the time heesung snaps out of all the work he’s in, it’s when his grandmother calls him. he curses through his teeth, realizing itself 9 PM already. is the guy there? shit, did he do something? he really was sketchy wasn’t he-

“heesung, my dear,” she says sweetly, “will you come by the restaurant?”

“is everything okay ma?” he asks immediately, ready to stand and run out without putting anything away.

“yes, yes. all good, but there’s a man that walked in earlier and asked if you were here already,” she says.

he swallows, “what did he look like?”

damn it, why is he asking? he doesn’t even remember what you look like, just that you’re a little taller than him but it’s not exactly by much. at least he doesn’t think so. yeah, he really can’t remember.

“mm, he was rather short, boxy and had a suit on.”

okay that definitely isn’t you though. “uh, i’ll head out right now.” there’s a silence on the other side of the phone after he announces that. he stops packing and questions her. “ma?”

“it’s… going to be hard isn’t it?” grandmother asks.

heesung fidgets, “don’t worry about it ma, i’m coming back to the office tomorrow. i’ll leave really early, this will be over as soon as possible.”

“okay, be safe on your way.”

“will do.”

would the men really try anything outside the restaurant? he genuinely doesn’t know. he can’t help but glance around every now and then as he goes down the street. it’s crowded tonight but even in movies a crowd is the best distraction. ah, he really is screwed isn’t he? he has no evidence, no information.

he really won’t be of any use, will he? even for his grandmother?

heesung stares at his shoes as they walk on the pavement. what will he do? what can he do?

he looks up when he’s finally close to the restaurant, turning the corner. seems like no customers tonight- his heart drops when he’s yanked from behind. he expected a knife or a gun pressed against him but when his eyes catch your devilish smile, he gets angry.

“FUCK,” heesung gasps, looking at you like you’re insane. he shoves you before yelling, “the fuck you scared me for?”

you chuckle, amused at his reaction. “you must have a lot on your mind to have not noticed you even pushed me aside a minute ago.”

“what?” he goes droopy, looking back at the path he came. there’s a car parked down the street there. did he really not see you? “well, whatever. come on, let’s get something to eat.”

“you’re hungry?” you ask, enjoying his personality already.

he guides you past the gates, but something catches your eye when he pushes one of the gate doors to a complete openness.

“oh heesung! you’re here!” a voice chirps happily from a few feet away.

“ah, ma i brought someone with me and we’ll get something to eat if you don’t mind.” he says, bowing at her figure that pops up at the door.

“of course, you don’t have to ask for permission.”

heesung smiles brightly at her before turning to you. you take him aback, however.

“may i speak with you out here for a moment?” you say, cold and with a dark expression.

heesung stares at you, confused at how quickly your mood changed. “uh, sure?” he turns to his grandmother who’s sweeping, “ma, we’ll be outside, give us a minute!”

“okay, love,” she says, continuing her way to sweep away.

heesung follows you when you take a few steps away. “what is it? my grandmas cooking is good, don’t tell me you’re backing out just because it’s not a high end restaurant-“

“did you get that bruise from a man named si-hyeong?”

everything shifts under heesung. what the hell are you talking about? he takes a moment to eye you up and down. one; he doesn’t know your name. two; who the hell is si-hyeong? three; what the fuck.

“uh…”

“better yet, did one of his men hurt you?”

“i don’t know who your talking about- and, why are you asking-“

you point at a small graffiti design on the floor, just under the gate door and extremely close to its hinges. how the hell you saw that, he doesn’t know. even he can’t exactly see it that well.

“tell me, did they threaten your grandmother?”

heesung snaps his eyes back at you. “i… yeah…”

with a nod, you look around. “may i ask what you work as?”

heesung narrows his eyes. “first, tell me your name. don’t lie to me either.”

you stare at him, “my name is l/n y/n.”

“okay, and before i tell you what i do depends on what you tell me.”

a small smile plays on your lips. “i’m simply from an organization that can help you keep your grandmother’s restaurant and get those men off your necks depending on your answer.”

heesung chews on the inside of his cheek. you really are sketchy. “i’m a lawyer.”

“who’s barely making ends meet if i remember correctly,” you tease.

“fuck you,” heesung huffs.

“well, lawyer heesung,” you say, stepping real close to heesung’s personal bubble. “if you help me, i’ll help you. i’m assuming they’ve given you a short amount of time to pay whatever absurd thing they’ve requested.”

heesung eyes you before nodding, for some reason he feels like you’re decently trustworthy. “yeah… but what is it?” you raise a brow, he elaborates. “what do you need?”

“a couple of things,” you smile, “but first i need to speak to the sweet lady that owns this place.”

heesung grants you just that.

“you’re quite the handsome man, are you a friend of heesung?” grandmother lee asks.

you stare at the elderly lady, eyes narrow. “you could say that.”

she smiles, placing a cup of coffee in front of you. you watch the steam before gently taking it, bowing respectfully at her in thanks. heesung sighs, sitting next to you on the small couch.

“mrs.lee, i’m working with heesung in your case, i had a question to make.” you say decisively.

she looks at you with a startled expression. “oh! go ahead,” she smiles.

“when did they come to threaten you about paying more in your bills?” you eye her, hands on the coffee mug. “on your rent?”

heesung looks at you annoyingly before facing his sweet grandmother with a soft expression. he doesn’t know why a knot forms in his throat when she stops smiling.

“yes… a man came in a few weeks ago, maybe even a month or two ago, saying i had to pay more. an absurd price….” she looks down.

heesung’s brows furrow. when did this happen? why hasn’t she told him? he naturally looks over at you, who has an indecipherable expression.

“and did you pay it?”

her eyes water, “i had to… he and his men said if i didn’t then they’d hurt my boys.”

“your boys?” you ask, unsure of who she means other than heesung.

“my best friend works with her, she technically raised us both,” he elaborates gently. “ma, why didn’t you tell me? is that why you told jay to-“

“you won’t have to worry about those men coming to threaten you anymore,” you say, eyes boring into her. “because i know they have.”

she nods, confessing the issue. heesung can’t believe this. his poor grandmother has been suffering from such goading. he won’t stand by it. with a kiss of reassurance on the forehead he sends her to bed, staying back to watch you go. you ended up not getting a meal, requesting a coffee instead. you had promised her to return soon for a meal though.

“so we start tomorrow, right?” he says as he guides you out the house.

the height difference is a little noticeable as you stand by the gate and look down at him. the street light casting a shadow on heesung from your frame. your eyes are intense, he realizes they always are.

“i’ll pick you up?” you smile, expression changing.

he’s unsure if it’s creepy or amusing. “uh, i’ll get there on bus. just send me the address.”

“it’s really far.”

“yeah.”

“you could get lost, it’s also really secluded.”

“okay.”

“it would be more efficient if i send someone to pick you up-“

“i don’t care! just send me the address! i’ll be there at 9 exact! don’t look down on me you piece of shit.” he huffs before spinning around and leaving you outside the house gates.

you smile as his figure disappears inside the house. it might seem you’ll get more than what you’re looking for.

🏷️ TAG LIST — @horijiro @lionzyon

©OIMITOCAT

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bokutoko · 6 months ago

Note

Helloo! I saw your request open so I thought to myself let's ask something bout shoyoo!! I want to see how shoyo looks like in ur cute writing hehe, So may I ask for hinata shoyo with anything domestic related? I would love to live in a world where he's my husband. SORRY FOR THEBLONG ASK I hope you're alright with it, have a great day!

late nights

character: shoyo hinata

wc: 707

content: hinata’s new training schedule makes for long days, and you, as his biggest fan, try to wait up for him. does it work? (it doesn’t.)

a/n: MY SWEET ANON!!! i’m so sorry i’m answering this so late—writer’s block was eating me alive pls forgive me. in return, here’s some sweet shoyo <3

Everyone knew Hinata Shoyo was a hard worker—he put blood, sweat, and tears into his sport, gave 100% effort into everything he did. So when he was chosen to represent the Japan Men’s National Volleyball Team in the Olympics, he knew he had to start giving 120% daily. Even earlier mornings, later nights, longer practice days—he took it all in strides, just honored to be afforded this monumental opportunity as a pro-player.

His muscles ached from practice, his hair still damp from the quick locker-room shower. It began curling slightly at the ends as occasional droplets of water fell onto his shirt. A tired sigh left his lips as he opened the door to his humble little one-bedroom apartment.

He quietly entered and slipped off his shoes, the only noise in the apartment being the ticking of the clock. Though in his peripheral, he noticed a light on in the main room—were you still awake??

Entering the living room, the TV had Netflix’s “Are you still watching?” on the screen, and a bowl of what used to be popcorn—only a couple kernels left—sat on the table. He rounded the corner to find you lying on the couch, sleeping soundly, despite the bright TV casting a glow on your face.

Taking in the sight of you, he suddenly felt his cheeks grow hot. You were sporting one of his MSBY shirts—even now, he always reverted into a goofy, lovesick boy at the smallest actions and in the most innocent moments. A simple little kiss? His cheeks are scarlet. You whispering a soft I love you every night before bed? The tips of his ears burn. Just looking at him with a small smile and hearts in your eyes? With a stutter, he’d turn so red that you wouldn’t help but laugh.

By the state of your uncomfortable position on the couch, it was obvious you tried to stay awake to see his return, and his heart ached at the thought. He wished he could stay with you every day and never leave the comfort of your arms.

But of course, you understood the importance of this new adventure—you’d never want to get in way of his dreams. You knew just how hard your husband worked for this very moment, and here it was, staring him in the face and holding out a welcoming hand.

Hinata knelt down, his face level with yours as he studied your sleeping face. Your mouth was slightly parted, causing you to have the softest snore that he found so adorable. Your face was slightly smushed in one of the throw pillows that you picked out. He couldn’t help but smile as he reached a gentle hand to your face, gently tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Wakey wakey,” he whispered as he intertwined his fingers with yours and lightly squeezed your hand. Your eyes barely cracked open, and you let out a soft whine from the awkward position now leaving a crick in your back.

After blinking a couple times and making out some striking orange hair, you mumbled out a soft, “Sho?”

He smiled, his eyes soft with love. “Hey there, sunshine. C’mere,” he scooped you up and carried you like you were weightless, “let’s get you to bed.” You nuzzled into his neck, smelling the subtle citrus scent of his body wash. In the mere seconds it took to walk from the couch to your shared bed, Hinata figured you slipped back into dreamland again. While tucking you into bed, his voice was low and soothing as he whispered how he missed you, how he loved you.

Slipping between the bedsheets, his eyes caught your sleepy gaze. Turns out, you were awake. “I’m sorry I’m home so late,” he whispered, his fingers carding through your hair, “Go on back to sleep, pretty girl. I love you.”

With the moonlight slipping through the curtains, Hinata saw your cheek meet his wrist as you leaned into his touch. You hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his skin and mumbling, “Just glad you’re here now. I love you.”

And with that last declaration of unconditional love, Hinata fell asleep knowing he could do absolutely anything, so long as he had you by his side.

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lostinlovingrevery · 1 month ago

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Let Me Wash Your Sins Away (Let me Love You)

Old Man Logan X Reader Drabble

Plot: You love him, but he won't let you. Until one day he comes home, nearly on his deathbed, and he finally lets you take care of him the way you always craved

A/N: A drabble of an idea that popped in my head, this came out more angsty than I originally planned, and I also started getting tired towards as it's almost 1 in the morning for me, but I really wanted to finish it tonight, so it probably sound a little rushed towards the end. but I hope ya'll enjoy! I just wanna take care of Old Man Logan <3

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and gunshot wounds, kinda angsty, talks of worshiping, mentions of dirty thoughts and just being horny towards Logan in general but he won't let you (go to horny jail)

Word Count: 3113

You sat at a table, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor, as you glanced at the clock, for the tenth time in a row in the last five minutes. You pressed your palms to the table, in an attempt to ground yourself from the nausea-induced anxiety you were experiencing. Your brows were creased in worry, your lips pulled back tightly in a grimace.

You were waiting for someone. Someone who somehow manages to fill you with an intense rush of emotions, both love-

And fear.

Not of him, but of what is happening to him, what could happen to him.

You met Logan a little less than a year ago, and he had managed to carve a space out in your

heart, the quiet, reserved, and sometimes cranky old man that he is.

He had found you and asked you for your help in taking care of Charles, your powers and excellent knowledge in handling mutants who couldn’t control- or lost control of their abilities had made you perfect for the job. You, of course, jumped at the opportunity to help. You didn’t know Charles Xavier personally, but you admired the work he’s done and quickly grew fond of the old man. Throughout the year, you attempted to get to know Logan, since you had to put your trust in him to keep you, Charles, and Caliban fed, sheltered, and safe. Logan was initially dismissive of you, and it wasn’t because he was a jerk but because he saw something with you he hadn’t felt in a long time and it terrified him, especially after 200 years of living and losing anyone and everyone he’s ever cared for. Life had beaten him to a pulp on the ground, yet he was still pushing himself up, not ready to give in just yet- and you were there, helping him up every time. You were persistent though, and you had carved a way into his heart as well. Yet it all remained unspoken. Logan was stubborn as a bull but so were you. You both carried on your daily routine, you took care of Charles, and you cooked and cleaned as well, while Logan worked, making money to keep food on the table, and afford Charles medicine.

There were moments though, soft moments with Logan that filled your heart. You always tried to make things easier on him, so that when he wasn’t working, he could truly rest. Sometimes, while you were preparing dinner, he’d come out of his room and sit with you, albeit silently. You could always feel his eyes on you even with your back turned but if you looked at him he’d look away. If you were in the living space, he’d sit out there with you, and if you caught him on a good day, you’d get some semblance of a conversation out of him.

One day, out of the blue, he had come up behind you, closer than you ever felt him before, so close that you could feel his breath on your neck and the heat radiating off of him. His hand came around you, resting on the hand that was holding a pepper that you were dicing. His hand was rough and dry, covered in calluses- yet it was so careful and so gentle as he rested it over yours. You’d stop, your breath hitching and your heart pounding in your chest at his proximity. Your eyes would flit to his hand on yours, and you would see the deep scars resting on his knuckles where the sharp, killer adamantium claws would unsheathe themselves, and you felt yourself having to resist the urge to kiss each scar. His thumb would brush over your hand, and he would lower his lips to your ear, his breath sending waves of goosebumps over your skin.

“Thank you.” He’d say in a low voice, deep and mesmerizing. “For all that you do around here.”

His scratchy beard would brush against your ear, as he turned his head, and pressed a kiss to your temple. He removed his hand from yours and left the area that was designated a kitchen in this old factory. You’d be left shaking, trying to catch your breath, not from fear, but just at the intimate moment he’d bless you with.

There were many moments like that, but he’d never talk about it, because anytime you bring it up, he’d make you shut up with just a firm stare, and it led to something unspoken. There were countless moments similar to that you shared with him, each one never leading into anything more. You never kissed (on the lips), you never had sex, you barely even had a hug from him. Logan though, the sly dog he was, always found a way to get his lips on you, whether it was the top of your head, your cheek, the palm of your hand, your shoulder- hell he even got the back of your neck once. It was teasing, giving you just barely a taste of what it could be like. You picked up on it not long ago. He’d come up when you were distracted, say something sweet, and get his lips on you somewhere, and then walk away. It filled you to the brim with frustration because it always made you want more, yet he’d never allow you to do anything to him. You tried. You’ve tried to peck his cheek, his hand, anything. You’ve tried to initiate conversations and intimacy, you tried to be as sly as he was- but he’d always shut you down. The point is, that he’s stubborn, and he refuses to accept any affection from you, in any shape, way, or form.

You practically worshipped Logan. He knew it too, there was no way he didn’t, with the yearning glances he catches from you, the way you’re so eager to help him, how you’d make his favorite meals, you’d pick up his favorite brand of cigars and leave it on his pillow for him to find when he comes home from work. You’d go out of your way to please him, and you knew him in every way that mattered. You didn’t need him to tell you how he was feeling because you could read his eyes easily. You knew that you could take good care of him. If only he’d let you.

It’s okay though. With the way you felt about him, you didn’t mind his stubborn ways. You didn’t mind everything being unspoken. You knew that you would slowly chip away at his adamantium skeleton eventually. He would break finally, and let you love him the way he deserves, the way he always deserved. You’ve come to the acceptance that Logan had been through years of hurt, and that he wasn’t going to open up overnight. So as much as you desired him, physically, emotionally, spiritually, you just hoped and you prayed to whoever was listening- that you’d get the chance to make him happy before the man got himself killed. Or being the adamantium killed him first

You stared at the door, willing it to open, for Logan to walk in, his usual self, exhausted and grumpy as he shed his jacket. You’d ask him about his night, and he’d answer gruffly on whether it was good or bad. If you were lucky, he’d tell you about some annoying ass customer he had, and you’d smile and laugh, and then he’d barely crack a smile, because he got to make you laugh, even if it was just a moment. There were a few times you’d seen a hint of that beautiful smile breaking through, and every single time it took your breath away.

You heard heavy footsteps, and you jumped up from your chair, almost knocking it down with how fast you moved, as you quickly ran to open the door and greet him.

You weren’t expecting this.

He looked terrible. Worse than you've ever seen him. His usually nice suit was practically torn to shreds, blood, and dirt staining the white dress shirt. The bags under his eyes were deeper and darker than they were when he left hours ago. His salt and pepper hair was a mess. You could see his hands were shaking terribly, and he was leaning to one side, barely able to put his full weight on the other side. He looked at you, exhausted, and almost desperate as he stepped inside. You covered your mouth with your hand.

“Lo- Logan! What happened?” You finally exclaimed, quickly going to his side, and helping him walk further into the room. You pulled out a chair from the table and helped him sit- pulling off his jacket- making him groan in pain just from moving his shoulders and arms as you slid the jacket down his arms. You discarded it to the side, still focused on him. He just leaned forward, not responding to your question. You could see the bruises along his neck- and that’s when you spotted the holes- bullet holes that littered through his torso, have created torn holes throughout. “Logan-” You gasped as you observed his whole self. He barely grunted in acknowledgement to you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, some days, he’d come home fine, just cranky, and others-...This was the worst you’d seen him, and it made you fear the worst, terrified now that even if he gets through this, what will happen next time? You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes, but you quickly swallowed them back, you couldn’t allow yourself to be overcome with emotion right now, especially since he needed you now. “Lo, C’mon.” You encourage, grabbing his arm to get him to stand. He wouldn’t at first, either because he was too weak, or he didn’t want to move. “Lo, baby, come on. Work with me here.” You said softly to him, and that seemed to reach him- as grunted, pushing himself off the chair- and you led him to the bathroom. You sat him on the toilet, while you turned to turn on the tap, letting it run to get warm, as you turned your attention back to Logan.

He had tipped his head back, leaning against the back of the toilet, arms hanging limply over his thighs. His mouth hung open just a bit, as he took shallow breaths, his chest rising and falling with each, an occasional grunt of pain escaping him. You clenched your fists, pushing back the emotion you felt, as you moved to unbutton his dress shirt. His hand came up quickly, grabbing your wrists- somehow managing to still be so gentle as he grabbed you, and stopped you from continuing, and you looked up at him. His eyes hung half open, looking down at you

“Lo, let me take care of you.” You say firmly, your eyes staring back piercingly at him. “Please-” You brought your free hand to his cheek. Your thumb softly stroked over his cheekbone, where a small bruise was painted, his eyes fluttered shut at your touch, and slowly he released his grip on your wrist.

You continued your mission. Carefully unbuttoning his dress shirt, you slid it down his arms in a similar fashion to his jacket. Next, you worked on the wife beater he wore underneath. You gently encouraged him to lift his arms upwards, allowing you to tear the ruined shirt from his skin. It made you gasp, seeing just how wrecked his torso was. You placed a hand over his chest gently, and his muscles flexed at your touch.

“Did you…Expel the bullets already?” You asked quietly. He grunted and nodded quietly. You nodded with him. Then you looked down at his pants and took a deep breath. You brought your hand down, resting it on his knee. “Is it okay if I… help take these off of you?” You ask quietly.

You could see his muscles flexing, tensing up, and holding like that. Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly, and for a moment you wondered if you had gone too far, but then he nodded, flooding you with relief that you hadn’t pushed his boundaries. You brought your hands to his buckle, slowly unbuckling it, pulling the leather belt open, and then you moved to unbutton his pants. Your hands were practically shaking as you did so, your mind was going far off into places it shouldn’t. To be honest, this wasn’t quite how you imagined taking his belt- or pants off for the first time. Yet the moment, while not quite what you imagined, felt intimate nonetheless. You looked up at him. His eyes were shut tight, and his breathing was deeper, but more practiced like he was telling himself to breathe, it almost seemed that his nerves at your actions matched your own. That’s when it hit you. Nothing about this was sexual. You and Logan had your feelings for each other, both physical and emotional, but that was something to be addressed at another time. At this moment, he just needed you, to be what you’ve always been for him so you came into his life- his reason to keep going. You kneeled, working on his shoes, pulling each one off, and then his socks. You helped him stand, as he leaned against you, and you pulled down his pants- and his boxers.

You kept your eyes away from that part of him, purely to be respectful. He hasn’t said anything, and you know he ain’t exactly shy. You wouldn’t want someone oogling at your body when you’re already in pain, and vulnerable, having to put your trust in someone taking care of you. Trust already wasn’t easy for Logan, and you weren’t about to break it or take advantage of it.

He stepped into the tub and lowered inside it with your help. He did his best to silence his grunts and groans, trying not to be loud for your sake, but the warm water both soothed and stunned his body. His open wounds, only just now starting to heal, began to bleed into the water, as well as the dirt that clung to the lower half of his body slowly washed off. You grabbed a rag, dunked it into the water, and looked at him. You knew this moment was pivotal to your relationship with Logan, and it wasn’t because he was sitting here naked in front of you, or that he allowed you to undress him. It was because he was finally, finally allowing you to take care of him, the way you always wanted. You knew you needed to be slow, and gentle with him, as you began to wash over him, starting with his face, then his shoulders, his back, and finally his chest. Slow, soft circles as you began to wash the blood, the dirt, and the sins off of him. The water had become so dirty, that you had to drain the bathtub and refill it again, just to wash over him once more, this time with soap, as you ran your hands through his hair, scrubbing his scalp, before moving down to his shoulders, massaging at the tense knots you felt there. Logan had leaned his entire body towards you as you worked him over, eyes closed, an occasional pleased groan escaping him, whenever your fingers ran through his hair, or your hands brushed soothingly over an aching spot.

“We’re almost done.” You say soothingly to him, as you squeeze the rag over his chest, excess water pouring out, washing away another layer of soap. “Then you can dry off, and get into bed, and rest. Okay?”

He turned his head to you. His eyes were more alert but relaxed.

“You shouldn’t have to do this.” He muttered lowly, examining the details of your face. “This isn’t right. You…You shouldn’t be taking care of me, sweetheart. I don’t deserve it.”

You looked at him, your expression turning into something soft. That’s why Logan refused you. He rejected your advances, all your attempts at getting close to him, because he didn’t believe he deserved it. You knew he struggled looking at himself like he was a good man, and you never understood why, because the Logan you knew, was a hero. Not because he served in wars, was a part of the xmen, and did all the glorious things that heroes did. He was a hero because despite all he went through, all the heartbreak and hurt- he still got up every day, and he took care of you. He took care of Charles. He kept enduring the hardships life threw at him- all for the sake of helping this one man, who saw potential in him and changed his whole life around. Logan could have left, he could have moved on from everything like he had for 200 years, but he stuck around for Charles, and you wondered if you’ve become a part of that reason too.

You brought your hand to his cheek, looking him in the eyes. “Yes, you do Lo.” You say softly. There was so much more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He looked so exhausted, and so vulnerable. Now wasn’t the time for admitting feelings. “I want to do this. I want to take care of you, because you take care of me.”

There was a moment of silence.

Logan brought his hand up to yours that cupped your cheek, and closed his eyes as he savored your touch. You kept him going. He avoided letting you reciprocate his affections because he believed you deserved better, that he didn’t deserve you and the worship he saw in your eyes every time you looked at him. How many nights has he resisted the urge to go into your room, climb into your bed, and show you how he really felt for you; Even tonight, as he got the shit beaten out of him, he thought about you- and he knew he had to make it back because the idea of leaving you alone in this world was too much to bear. He couldn’t let your hands touch him, your lips on his skin because he carried too many sins with him, and he wouldn’t want to ruin the good he sees in you. Now though, as you carefully wash him, gentle, caring, worshiping with every brush of the washrag against his skin, he felt that maybe he got it wrong. Maybe, instead of him protecting you from his sins…You could wash away his sins, and create something new, all for you to do as you please.

Maybe now, he'll finally let you love him.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fic #old man logan x reader #old man logan #xmen wolverine #logan wolverine

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libingan · 6 months ago

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— wolf’s den. (3)

summary: after finding yourself lost in the forest, you accidentally stumble across a wolf’s den. unfortunately for you, his intentions are dark and possessive—he's chosen you to be his mate, dragging you into a nightmarish world where escape seems impossible.

cw: kidnapping, dark content, noncon/dubcon, wolf hybrid! ghost x bunny hybrid! reader, sex is mentioned lol

a/n: i keep forgetting to add the fuckin summary yall HAHSHWSHW this chapter is p short bc i got errands to run and i wanted to finish my idea before i went out

i alr have the entire story plotted out, it has five chapters lololol

part two | part four

simon's relentless determination became a daily ordeal. every night, and often during the day, he would take you, his desire insatiable, his possessiveness unyielding. he claimed you whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted, showing no regard for your feelings or your pleas. the wolf hybrid had you in every position imaginable, on every surface of the house. the bed, the kitchen table, the floor, even against the walls – no place was off-limits. each encounter left you more exhausted and hopeless than the last.

you found yourself falling into a routine, your days blending into a cycle of submission and survival. simon’s dominance was overwhelming, his presence a constant reminder of your captivity. the way he looked at you, his intense gaze always watching, always assessing, sent shivers down your spine. his touch, though rough and possessive, had a way of igniting a primal part of you, a part that you despised.

your feelings were a whirlwind of confusion and despair. you hated him for what he was doing to you, for the way he had taken away your freedom. yet, a small part of you, the part that craved touch and connection, found itself responding to his relentless advances. you felt disgusted with yourself, your mind and body at war with each other.

it wasn’t long before you started noticing changes in your body. nausea in the mornings, heightened sensitivity to smells, and an unfamiliar heaviness settling in your lower abdomen. you knew the signs all too well – you were pregnant. the realization sent a wave of fear through you. the idea of carrying simon’s pups, of raising his children, was too much to bear.

the days stretched into a monotonous blur. you spent your time tending to the chores simon assigned you, his voice a constant, commanding presence in your life. “clean this,” he’d say, his tone leaving no room for argument. “cook me something to eat.” his orders were simple, but the way he delivered them, the way he watched you with that predatory gaze, made your skin crawl.

you had learned to grow accustomed to his routines, his expectations. despite how helpless you felt, you had to survive. there were moments when you almost forgot the fear, when you focused solely on the tasks at hand, blocking out everything else. but then simon would touch you, his hands rough and demanding, and the reality of your situation would come crashing back.

desperation clawed at you as you tried to find a way out. you couldn’t live like this, couldn’t subject your future offspring to the same fate. you had to escape, for their sake and yours. you waited for the right moment, for simon to leave on one of his hunting trips, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination.

the day finally came. simon left early, his usual routine, and you knew this was your chance. you packed what little you could carry, your hands trembling as you moved swiftly and silently. every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the trees outside, made your heart skip a beat. you couldn’t afford to be caught this time.

you slipped out of the house, your bunny ears twitching with every sound, your heart pounding in your chest. the forest seemed darker, more foreboding than before, but you pressed on, driven by a desperate need for freedom. you ran, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your legs aching with the effort.

hours passed, the forest blurring around you as you pushed forward. you didn’t stop until you were sure you had put enough distance between yourself and simon’s den. you collapsed against a tree, your body trembling with exhaustion and relief. you were free. for now.

simon returned home to an unsettling silence. his senses immediately told him something was wrong. he called out for you, his voice echoing through the empty house. there was no response. his heart raced as he began searching each room, his movements becoming more frantic with each empty space he found.

“where the fuck are you?” he growled, his temper rising. the realization that you had escaped dawned on him slowly, his anger boiling over. he tore through the house, overturning furniture, breaking anything in his path. his fury was palpable, a dangerous storm brewing within him.

by the time he reached the final room, his patience had snapped. he stood amidst the wreckage, his breath coming in harsh pants, his fists clenched at his sides. you were gone, and he knew he couldn’t easily find you in the vast expanse of the forest. he roared in frustration, the sound echoing through the empty house, a promise that he wouldn’t stop until he found you.

you might have escaped for now, but simon riley was a relentless hunter. and he would never rest until he had his mate back in his grasp.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #cod x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #x fem reader #ghost x reader #cw dark content #cw kidnapping #cw power imbalance

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tokoyamisstuff · 6 months ago

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Sweet Tooth

Homelander x GN! Reader

Summary: Homelander is a regular customer at your little coffeeshop, visiting anytime he craves something sweet - you, in particular. Warnings: Canon-typical violence, cussing, HL is horny and also a douche Words: 1,575

"Seriously, Y/N? Who the fuck drinks a milkshake at 8am?"

Ah, there he is. You almost got worried because he ran late today.

"What are you, five? Grow the fuck up." That said, the gruff man in front of you pulled out a few loose dollar bills, cheekily slamming them on the counter. "One for me too, please."

You smirk, putting the cup down after slurping it in one go. Ouch, brainfreeze. "Good morning to you too, sunshine."

That's what he likes most about you: Finally someone that can take a fucking joke. People he usually surrounds himself with are either afraid of him, or got a damn stick up their asses.

Communication wasn't really his forte without someone dictating the lines he'd have to say. But with you it came refreshingly easy, that back and forth was so enjoyable that he almost felt human.

"Coming right away" you chant, already busying yourself with the ingredients. "With how often you're ordering this drink, I should name it after you."

Homelander snorts at the well-deserved mockery, unable to keep his mouth shut since you look so adorable when irritated. "As you should, considering I basically fund this place."

"Hey!" you put a warning finger in the air, lighthearted voice earnest now. "I can tolerate a lot, but that's no joking matter."

Okay, the location you were able to afford was neither central nor in a remotely good part of the town. It was so small that there was only space for two tables, and the interior honestly decaying.

But at least it was honest work, and you did the best you could.

"With the new Starbucks across the street I'm basically bancrupt." Oh godfuckingdamnit, he fucked up. Homelander here to unwind, and certainly not to listen to you whining about your insignificant little life.

Maybe Vought should send you a check, though - losing this spot would be annoying.

Initially Homelander came to your café out of sheer coincidence, wanting to calm his nerves after his first encounter with Sister Sage. He took a longer stroll through some shady alleyways, hoping to run into some lowlife to rip apart...

...instead, he found you. A pathetic excuse of business and surely not even remotely close to achieving the American Dream, but whatever.

John had found himself entranced with the cheesy decoration, a desperate attempt to make a place like this feel cozy. He secretly admired people with the ability to make anywhere feel like home.

Well, the menu looked good enough that he decided to treat himself with something sweet as matter of exception - and now it had become part of his daily routine.

Things had just settled like this, with you offering him your sincere company while he'd cryptically vent about anything on his mind.

"Here: For my favourite customer!" you cheered proudly as you presented him the shake. "Made with extra love."

"Secret ingredient, huh? You're just nice to get an extra tip" he tries to hide the insecurity behind a sassy remark, but you instantly parry his claim. "What, why, because you're so generous? Nonsense. You're just lucky you're so cute."

It was no lie, really. John had a rough shell and wore his heart on his tongue, but you appreciated his honesty and the good conversations you shared.

As you were rummaging in the kitchen counter, he couldn't help but notice how you turn down the radio despite continuing to hum the song it was playing. He once told you about having misophonia, and how much he hates modern pop music. You actually listen to him, consider his feelings unlike the imbeciles he's used to.

"Woah, maybe tune it down with the sugar, darling" he thought aloud as you poured yourself a coffe. Damn, he needs to save himself after this one - but the only thing he comes up with sounded more like a backhanded compliment at max. "You're already sweet enough, don't ya think?"

"Charming as always, I see." Your face contorts into a mixture of confusion and amusement at his words, and feeling bold you turn around, giving a provocating slap to your own ass. "As long as the fat goes into the right places."

John bites his bottom lip at the sight of your tight leggings framing your curves too well. Yeah, that'd be a great place to dig his fingers into. Some cushion wouldn't bruise or make you whine if he'd become a little rougher. Shit, his pants feel awfully tight right now.

"You're staring." Seeing him being the flustered one for a change sure was a great feeling, considering that he was very aware of his own good looks. So you decide to get him off the high horse, playfully poking his soft belly. "Also, you're one to talk."

Homelander shifts on the barstool, closing his legs so you wouldn't notice his cock twitching in anticipation at the sudden proximity. God knows how often he had daydreamed about slamming you onto the next best surface and fucking you stupid.

"You really shouldn't be mean to someone that could spit in your drink." He smirks, a predatory glint in his eyes as he leaned forwards until his unfairly handsome face was just inches from yours. "Joke's on you - I'd savour every last drop."

The audacity. You physically fight rolling your eyes at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of reacting. "Sometimes I think you're the most obnoxious person in the world, John."

Liar, he thinks to himself.

Nothing is hidden from his abilities, neither your raised bloodpressure nor the scent of the wet spot forming between your legs. He prided himself on that fact. And yet you stand there all taken aback, trying to play coy. Cute.

Well, it wasn't as if you had no interest in him. He's been coming here for weeks and you're still working up the courage to at least give him your number - but he was so incredibly out of your fucking league that you never considered actually going through with it.

Homelander on the other hand decided he had let the opportunity slip for way too long already. Except for both of you the shop was empty as always, and even if it wasn't he wouldn't care. Hell, he'd already imagined what it would be like pounding you naked against the display window to show every passenger who you'd belong to from now on.

"John, I-"

"Shh" he hushed you, his silencing finger lingering on your lips. You pulled away, just to be caught by a firm hand on the back of your neck. "Tell me if I should stop - but we both know what you want me to do to you."

Oh, he's insufferable.

Honestly, you should just slap him and tell him to go fuck himself - but a primal need had already shut down the rational part of your brain. "Damnit John, will you kiss me now or do I need to fuck that shiteating grin out of your face?"

Shit, what's not to love about you?

"Hands up in the air you two shitheads, this is a robbery!"

Un-fucking-believable.

While you immediately went into panic mode, seeing a weapon up close for the first time in your whole life, John nonchalantly leaned against the counter, an aggravated groan escaping his throat. "Dude, worst fucking timing."

"John, don't provoke him-" He threw a hand up in the air, signalizing you to be quiet. "Stay behind and let me handle this, sweetheart."

You nod quietly, John shielding you with his body as you shakily paced behind the counter. A shot was fired and you shrieked at the sound, apparently the criminal wasn't exactly patient or he just didn't like your customer's tone.

"John! God John, are you alri-" Your words got caught in your throat as you saw the shell fall to the ground. Must be the adrenaline clouding your view, but there seemed to be not a scratch on his body. He winks cockily at you before turning around, using the lasers in his eyes to make a quick end to this before you'd involuntarily get caught into the crossfire.

"So, is the drink on the house or what?" The hero jokes unfazed after just having spread literal brain matter on your tiles.

You were still trembling when he squatted in front of your cowering self, reassuringly patting your back. This shit is like second nature to him, and sadly the little empathy he possessed had dulled over time. "I told you to stay down, silly."

As soon as you've calmed down to a certain extend, you pulled your savior's baseball cap from his head, revealing disheveled blonde hair.

"Are you the fucking Homelander?!"

"Can't deny that after what you've just witnessed" he answers truthfully, offering you a hand to get up. "Took you long enough to figure out, though."

Your strained pants turned into hysterical laughter, probably due to the shock. "I-I honestly have no words."

That means he wins today's banter, he jubilates internally. You could've been a little more thrilled about the reveal of his identity, though - but hey, you can show him your gratitude later on.

"Thank you, I guess." You finally release the breath you were holding, tension leaving your body as you collapsed into his arms. Police sirens could already be heard fast approaching. "I- could you please bring me home after the investigation is over?"

"Sure" he tries to hide his excitement, cradling your exhausted self against his chest. "If you don't mind, I'll take you to go."

#the boys #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander / reader #john gillman #self insert #writing #fanfiction

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