#hidden in the tags because hot take?

[everythingdestroyingme]

I never thought this would happen. I thought for someone not to leave me, abandon me, I’d have to carve away at myself, like a whittled wooden cube or an amateur’s apprentice’s marble statue.

But here I am, still me, still myself, but with opened eyes and a heart that might just have made space for myself.

I always thought if I were to have a longterm partner, I would need to become something I’m not, pretend to feel something I couldn’t, deal with things I once thought were normal. I’ve found that’s not the case at all.

I never thought I’d feel love. I never thought I’d understand it’s hearts pull. I was comfortable in my aromanticism. I accepted it, and myself. But I wanted desperately, enough to claw at the mud lined walls of the pit I called my home, to find someone who wouldn’t leave me. It didn’t have to romantic, it just needed to last.

Eight months ago I met a boy. I never expected much, boys only really interested me in my head. I’d always imagined myself with a woman because then she’d understand what I couldn’t give her and what I could.

But six months ago this boys told me he loved me and hasn’t let go of my hand.

I met a boy with toasted marshmallows for his eyes and hair made of winter mountain cabins and slow dancing in refracted moonlight. I met a boy whose mind complements mine. Our mouths can jabber on in our sleep in our wake in our new apartment just down the line.

He taught me to love, showed me the motions showed me the rush and the flush and then tender touch of someone who’s world has become yours.

At the end of it all he’s made me understand myself and my feelings more than I ever could. I’m still asexual, I’m still biromantic, and I’m certain I’m still on the aro-spectrum. But I’ve found that one person that showed me what love feels like and I’m more comfortable than I have ever been with myself and who I am.

[thoughtssvt]

O.F. COUPLE

nanami kento x fem! reader

cw: filmed sex, creampies, cunnilingus, vaginal sex (tagged as fem reader because kento refers to you as his wife, but aside from that & genitalia there are no specific fem descriptions), cum eating

It wasn’t like your page blew up over night, but the rise was definitely quick.

Turns out a lot of people were drawn to a couple who played no gimmicks. Didn’t put on a show. Hell, didn’t even do this for money. Nowhere in your eight videos posted to the hub did you splice enough content together to reel in engagement only to direct watchers to another platform hidden behind a paywall.

Not that your viewers wouldn’t use one hand to punch in their credit card information if that was the case.

It was impulsive at first, the filming of it.

A steamy night that started in the living room, lingering touches and hot kisses. Always followed up by grinding that had you both struggling to decide whether or not that’s how you wanted to finish or if those handful of seconds away from each other to undress was worth the high. You two ultimately chose the latter. A trail of clothes leading to the bedroom, Kento fishing his phone out of his pocket before dropping his pants and for some reason it felt oddly heavy in his hands.

He gave you a look, the look. It wasn’t unfamiliar to you, there had been plenty of times in the past where you’d filmed short videos of your intimate moments. Kento’s head between your legs, looking up at you with pussy drunk, half-lidded eyes. Hands flexing around your thighs as he licked his lips. Or awkward overhead angles of a makeout session so hot that it almost left your lips raw. Most videos were the last few seconds of Kento’s orgasm– you already delirious in your high– his breathy grunt cracking through the speakers before the microphone had time to adjust, recording the delicious squelch of your cunt letting him go as he pulled out. A thick glob of cum followed a few seconds after. His thumbnail white as he pulled one of your cheeks to the side to show the camera how you gaped for him.

You didn’t upload those videos, though. Those were a keepsake for your eyes only.

The videos that you posted to your account were always filmed at one of three angles. Atop the dresser that stood right across your bed or propped up on the lamp housed on your bedside table. The third angle was rare. One that was seen in a singular video.

Wife Rides Husband’s Cock, Begging To Be Filled After Two Weeks Apart - Close Up Creampie

The only video that had any cuts in it. Just one cut from the first wide angle, your figures backlit by the window behind you as you sat on his upper thighs, Kento’s head propped up against the headboard. Hot hands smoothing up and down your sides. Just enough light hitting your faces for the viewers to see your whispers, the phone far enough away that the only murmur his phone’s microphone could pick up was the bubbling giggled that had you lurching forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. There was just something so genuine about you two that drew the readers in. How, besides capturing an inherently intimate moment, they could see how much you cared for each other once the cameras were off.

Half the comments always swooned about how sweet the two of you were no matter how rough or intense the content was. The other half of them comments on this video in particular was songs of praises and gratitude for the second angle.

Filmed from Kento's POV everyone got to see how you bounced and grinded, the way your thighs flexed and your hips wiggled. Everyone commenting the timestamp 21:06 when your fingernails dug into Kento's toned stomach, scratching the expanse as you huffed about how close you were. Kento's hand wrapped around your waist tight enough for your flesh to deliciously spill over the edges. god, did he love that. He would've commented on it if he wasn't more concerned about your comfort, asking if you wanted him to take over. You shook your head wanting to do it to the end, knowing you could. Begging Kento to cum with you because you were so, so close. Dragging him practically by the neck to join you as you whispered dirty pleas for him to fill you up. How you felt so empty while he was away.

This second angle was a godsend. Propelling the video to the top rank of verified couples. The way you fell over the edge together in itself already had most of your viewers making a mess on their own end, but the way you leaned back exposing the creamy ring that adorned the base of Kento's cock. Your glistening cunt so puffy and loved. The way you slowly rose up despite the fatigue in your thighs, previewing the mess between your legs as it streaked down Kento's cock. That had your watchers groaning, kicking themselves as the need for their hand to drift back to their crotches grew. The groan that reverberated from Kento's chest and the soft gasp that left your lips as you rose high enough for his heavy length to slip out of you, slapping his pelvis with a thick squelch was what made most, if not all, of them continue through the overstimulation.

No matter how much time had passed since posting that video, you still had comments coming in every day of people on their knees begging, offering ridiculous sums of money to get just a taste of that third angle. Just one more video where they could watch Kento's cum drip out of you and back onto his cock. Hell, even just a split second of your cum soaked cunt before the screen blackened to reflect their pathetic faces as Kento dropped his phone onto the mattress, unable to hold himself back from licking you clean. A lot of your viewers having confessed that they return to this video just to hear him devour you, sloppy smacks of his lips, heated groans and your weak mewls enough for a quick session.

You had devout watchers. People who never even ventured the amateur category had notifications on for your posts. People who longed for the impromptu videos that came according to no schedule or pretext whatsoever. Most of which who couldn't believe you'd give them this content for free. They could tell how much you loved each other and how much fun you had during these moments. Their hearts aching and fluttering for the whispers and smiles and the soft kisses that never managed to interrupt the flow that would lead to the signature plaps just minutes later.

They'd given and continued to give you so much love, the two of you figured it wouldn't hurt to plan a celebratory milestone video and maybe, just maybe you could convince Kento to film that third angle again.

A/N: i kinda wanna write more of this

nanami kento x reader master list

[noxiwrites]

Forbidden

Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class.You're not too bothered by him, he's just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It's every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.

Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.

Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

2.9k

Add yourself to my tag list | Masterlist

I II III IV V

You’re going out. You’re not quite sure how you’ve let Molly drag you out, convincing you that you just need to drink a bit and clear up some head space from what’s been happening recently. Once you told her what had happened, and how you’d stopped again, she’d be adamant that you just needed to see what ‘competition’ was out there- aka, all the ‘ugly boys in town have nothing on Rafe’ and then you’d be okay shagging him.

“Do I look okay?” You ask her, standing in front of the mirror as she applies the final bit of her lipstick. Molly scoffs, rolling her eyes at you.

“Are you kidding? It’s any girls wet dream to look like you, yes you look okay.”

She finishes her lipstick and you take a step back, looking at your outfit one final time before you’re being dragged out of your apartment and to Ryan’s car outside. He doesn’t drink, you’ve discovered, so he’ll happily drop you and Molly off and pick you up once you’re finished. You both clamber into the back seat, adjusting your skirt once you’re sat and listening to Molly talk her boyfriends ear off.

It’s not long before he pulls up at the side of the road, wishing you both a fun time as Molly is practically dragging you out of the car and into the bar right next to it. It’s Friday night, loud, lots of people pushing around and you eye the crowd.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You yell over the music, as Molly looks over at you, gaze hardened. She’s still got her hand wrapped around your arm as she drags you up to the bar, waiting to be served.

You have a look around. There’s plenty of guys here who aren’t that bad looking, yet you’re just not interested. Molly hands you a glass of something that you don’t bother to question as she leads to over to a table in a far corner, a bit further away from the crowds. You take a seat, face crinkling when you take a sip of your drink and it’s straight vodka.

Molly giggles at you spluttering, taking a sip of her own drink. “So, you need to tell me more about Rafe. You can’t just tell me you’ve kissed him and think I’m okay not knowing more,” she leans forward on the palm of her hand.

“It literally was just a kiss, Mol. He touched me a little but I froze up before he could do anything else,” she nods, staring at you like she’s expecting more.

“Go on,” she says, and you’re not quite sure what else she wants from you, so you say the only thing that comes to mind.

“When I told him to stop, he turned 60 degrees on me, like he thought I regretted it or something,”

Molly takes another sip of her drink. “Doll, that man is totally obsessed with you! Of course he’s gonna be upset when you tell him to stop something he thought you were both enjoying.”

You were enjoying it, you think- the way you reacted to him would tell you exactly that. You can’t, though, get it out of your head that he’s your teacher.

“I don’t know Mol, it just seems weird because he’s our teacher,” she raises an eyebrow at you.

“Teaching assistant. Maybe that’s what’s stopping you, the thought of shagging a teaching assistant even though he’s hot,” the crowd gets especially loud after her statement and you look up, half expecting everyone in the bar to be listening in and judging you- but they’re just watching some sport on the tv.

You sigh, swirling your straw in your drink as you think about it. If that’s the bit that’s holding you back, then how do you get around it? Molly reaches over the table, grabbing your hand.

“Girl, don’t worry. Tonight I’m gonna convince you that it’s okay to shag him, hand on heart,” she smirks at you, raising her glass and clinking it against your own. The notion brings a smile to your face.

So far, Molly has had a great time convincing you that all the other guys in town aren’t worth your time- and so far, it’s working. You’ve had three guys try their luck and each time, you’ve turned them down.

You’re sat in the fifth bar of the night, feeling a little tipsy from whatever Molly has been passing you to drink, and you’re actually enjoying yourself. You're thinking more and more about Rafe- about how he looks, how he smells, how he acts.

It’s confusing you, you’ll admit- you’re not sure what exactly it is about him that makes you so nervous. You’re not grabbing for his attention like everyone else in class- yet you find yourself slowly wishing to see him more and more. You’re not quite sure what to make of those feelings, or how to even put them into words for Molly to give you advice.

Five minutes later, Molly comes back from the bathroom, phone in hand. “I’m so sorry babe, I’ve got to go- Ryan’s had a bit of an emergency.” You nod your head, downing your drink with her before hugging her goodbye. She turns to leave, before turning back to you.

“Are you gonna get home okay?” She asks, and you swallow, standing on shaky legs. You’re a little more drunk than you thought.

“Yeah- I- I should be fine,” you muster out, smiling at your friend. She raises an eyebrow, contemplating, before giving you a kiss on the cheek and rushing out the bar.

You decide to wait a few minutes before exiting yourself, pushing the bar door and being blasted by the cold night air. It makes you regret wearing so little, as you pull your phone out of your bag and opening Uber.

Molly is already long gone, the sidewalk littered with other drunk people. It’s currently seven o’clock, already dark- and people are drunk. You scoff, realising you’re just as bad as everyone else.

You stand, looking at the prices to go to your home when an idea pops into your head. Campus is still open, and most of the teachers stay late on Friday so they don’t have to work weekends.

You could, in theory, go see Rafe. While you’re not level headed- while you’re not thinking straight, because you’ll be able to speak easier and maybe even move a little further with him.

Maybe. Maybe doesn’t stop drunk you from selecting your building on campus, and climbing inside the Uber when he pulls up in front of you. You hiccup as the Uber pulls away, and he looks at you through the rear view mirror.

“Fun night love?” He asks and you smile.

“Yeah, not been bad,”

He clears his throat, turning onto the Main Street that leads to campus. “And you’re headed to the university now? Why’s that?”

You smile again, looking down at your nails. “I’m going to see my boyfriend, he’s working late,”

The words fall from your lips and you don’t even mind them, drunken stupor fueling you along. The driver nods as he pulls into the campus, navigating the windy roads before you see your building and he pulls into the car park. You thank him as he stops and he wishes you a goodnight as you shut the door and watch him drive away.

You breath out, wrapping your flimsy little cardigan around you as you turn to face the building. You’ve no time for normal thoughts as you see Rafe’s classroom light is on and you grin, slightly stumbling as you walk towards the front doors of the building.

The hallways are quiet, apart from the clicking of your heels as you make your way towards the door of your class. You’re thinking about all the possibilities, all the outcomes of what might happen. You know you’re tipsy, but you’d remember every second of tonight.

You hiccup, giggling as you think about Rafe’s biceps, hand hovering above the handle of the door, when you finally look through the little window on the door.

And your heart stops. You think this is the fastest you’ve sobered up, blinking your eyes a few times to make sure you’re seeing what you’re seeing. It’s not a mirage. No smoke screens.

Rafe’s sat in his chair, legs spread, chin resting on the palm of his hand as Kendra sits cross legged on his desk, holding something out of your view. You can see her twirling her hair around her finger, and Rafe laughs at something she says. You can’t swallow. You breathe out, shallow and ragged, the all too familiar feeling of bile rising in your throat.

Why does this bother you so much? Why do you want to cry, want to scream, want to rip her head off her shoulders? You’re not sure.

You’re frozen on the spot, watching as she pushes his shoulder back and he swings around in his chair, smile on his face. You’re locked onto the two of them, unable to shift your eyes- until you see the smile drop from Rafe’s face, his eyes gazing directly back into your own. Kendra turns, looking at what Rafe is looking at, and when she sees you, she smirks.

Like she’s proud.

“I won, bitch,” she mouths, and you finally unfreeze. A tear slips down your cheek and you’re mad you’re crying over a guy you’ve kissed once. Once. And he started it. That, somehow, makes it worse. You turn, setting a quick pace back down the hall. You hear the door open behind you, barely, but nothing else when your ears are ringing this loud.

Why is it bothering you that much? Why?

You swing the front doors of the building open, out into the cold, which has started a spout of pelting rain, really adding to the way you feel. Your ears are blaring at you as you walk down the sidewalk, pulling your phone out of your bag and tapping the screen, ordering an Uber to pick you up at the end of the block.

A hand reaches for you, grasping your arm and spinning you. It’s Rafe, to your displeasure, saying something to you. His mouth is moving, but you’re not hearing him.

“Will you just stop? It’s not what it looks like,” you make out and you scoff, ripping your arm from his grasp. You shrug, ignoring the way you want to cry, trying to act indifferent. You should have known better.

The ringing subsides as you continue to walk down the sidewalk, hearing Rafe’s footsteps behind you, his voice sounding like background noise. You turn.

“I’m not bothered about what you’re got to say, to be honest. You can go,” you say, turning around again. You can see your Uber from where you are and you speed up a little, hoping to make it to the car before you’re completely soaked.

“Look- let me explain, please,” he all but begs, and you’re sure you can hear the desperation in his tone. You don’t give him the pleasure of seeing your face crumple, wanting to give in.

“I don’t care Rafe. It’s not like we’re together, you can see who you want.” You reach your Uber and feel his fingers slide against your arm, leaving a tingle- but you’re too quick, opening the door and sliding inside the backseat, telling the driver you’re ready to go.

When you’re pulling away, you look over your shoulder out of the window to see him still stood in the rain, watching the car pull away.

You can’t believe you could have been so stupid. How could you have not seen? It should have been so obvious to you, so fucking obvious- but you were gullible, stupid. You let yourself believe tonight that he wanted you, and for the first time, you knew you wanted him too.

The Uber pulls up outside your estate and you thank the driver, using your card to get into the side gate as you walk around to your flat. With shaky hands, you open the door and are greeted by whiskers, who meows at you from the hallway table. You smile down at him, scratching between his ears.

“You’re the only guy who won’t let me down, huh?” He blinks up at you slowly as you sigh, giving him a final scratch before dropping your keys into the bowl and taking your heels off, padding down the hall.

Whiskers follows as you head into your bedroom, taking off your soaked clothes and wrapping yourself in a towel to dry off, finding some old clothes to change into.

You chuck your phone onto your bed, taking a seat on the edge. Your head falls into your hands, breathing deeply as the scene flashes through your mind again. And again. And again.

Even when you try to sleep, it plays. Kendra’s mocking words haunt you, even in deep sleep- and you wake up in the morning, feeling heavy. Despite the lack of good sleep, you get up, getting yourself ready for work.

You feed whiskers, wishing him a good day before leaving the house. You see a flash of red on your doorstep and you back up, pulling your key from the lock.

Red roses. A dozen, along with a box with a bow on the top. They’re wet, a card stuck in the top of the roses soggy as you pick them up and read the card.

All it says is sorry, but somehow, you know who they’re from- and it makes you wonder how he knows where you live. Or how he got in. You scoff, walking down your front path to the bin and chucking it all in, before unlocking your car and heading to work.

It’s a slow day in the coffee shop, despite it being a Saturday. You’re exhausted, messing up orders and just being overall clumsy. Lots of familiar faces come and go, and you hate seeing people you know when you’re at work.

You’re stood at the counter, drawing up some signs for some new treats when the bell above the door chimes.

“Welcome in, what can I get for you?” You ask, out of instinct, not looking up as you finish the last parts of the last sign.

“I’ll have a black coffee and your number, please,” you recognise the voice and flutter your eyes up, to see Tobey stood at the counter, smiling down at you. You blush, processing his order.

“Six dollars, please,” he plucks his wallet from his pocket and hands you a twenty, and you give him his change before making his coffee. When you hand it to him, he inspects the cup before looking back at you.

“My order is wrong,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows, confused. “Oh? How so?”

He grins down at you. “I haven’t got your number yet.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to slot the sign into the baking tray with the right sweets. “Have a nice day, Tobey,” you sigh, picking the tray up and walking it over to the big display. You don’t hear the door bell again and glance over to see him watching you.

You observe him back. He’s not bad looking, dark brown hair falling in a neat fringe over his forehead, green eyes and a fairly sharp jaw. Today, he’s wearing some sweats and a hoodie, different from the jeans you remember last time.

You sigh, walking back to the counter and looking up at him expectantly. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Let me take you out,” he responds straight away, taking a sip of his coffee. He smiles, holding it out. “This is good, thank you.”

You’ll admit, this is a different side to him from what you saw in class that time. Yeah, he’s still as persistent, but he’s been nicer about it this time.

“I don’t know,” you begin, trailing off as you stare out of the window, images of last night flashing through your head again. It angers you, pisses you off, to even think about thinking about it.

“Cmon, just one? If you don’t like it, then fair enough. I’ll back off.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair. You weigh out your options, contemplating what could happen. And then you remember last night again.

“Okay, what the hell. I’ll give you my number and you can pick me up sometime.”

Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Helloooooo 🫶🏻 sorry this took me so long I’ve been at work 😪 anyway, I’ve just watched the new Noah beck movie, Sidelined, and was wondering if any of you guys would be interested in me writing something for Rafe inspired by that? Love yas, let me know what you think 🥰

Check out a teaser for a new series here <3

Tags ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

4Everything

@dudenhaaa27 @outerbankspov @ayy1234567 @rxfecameronsslut @potter-head-phanatic @lilithblackkk @akobx @nina357 @percysley @kundaquarius @elyseesarchive @purplerose291 @saturneni @rafedaddy01 @cnnamongrl @blowbunny @hoelesslyt @rafesdoe @ilovefiction4lmen @supernaturalwriter @wh0re4drewstarkeu @fals3-g0d @unsaidjaelinrose

Just forbidden

@masonmountme69 @noobmazter69 @amaranth-writing @rafecameronswifeyy @hwaaholic @slutxuall @innocentmindedgirl @casoro1626 @hugposey @rafesgiirl @jaymesmaud @littlewhiterose @vanngguk @yeslifeofateen @trapistani @pillowprincess4him @jodecivantee @10ava01

[eternalguk]

Checked Out | jjk. (M) — teaser

Your touch blurred my vision, it’s your world and I’m just in it

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : When your best friend asks you to cover her shift at the campus library, you reluctantly agree, figuring it’ll be a quiet night of reshelving books and dodging overdue fees. What you don’t expect is Jeon Jungkook, the star of your shared lectures and the subject of your most distracted daydreams, walking in with a cocky smile and a book to return. Flirty banter turns into suggestive glances, and when Jungkook offers to help you “restock” in the back storeroom, the air grows thick with more than just dust. Alone, pressed between shelves of forgotten novels, you realise some things are worth being overdue for. After all, who needs silence in the library when the tension is this loud?

↠ Genre : pwp, university au, fluff, smut, mutuals (?) to lovers

↠ Word count : tbc.

↠ Warnings : explicit sexual content (more detail will be provided when the fic is released!)

↠ A/n : Hi there ; as promised, here’s a little oneshot featuring the man who drives me absolutely insane (and I know I’m not alone in that)! I promised an anon I’d share this before dropping chapter two of my new series, so here’s a teaser to tide you over! Expect plenty of tension, stolen glances, and maybe a little trouble in the backroom. The full story will be out next weekend, so let me know if you’d like to be tagged - I’d love to hear what you think 🦢!

“I was just thinking…” Jungkook leans against the counter again, his eyes never leaving yours. “You might need some help after all.” His voice is a low, but the hint of amusement cannot be hidden. “Can’t leave you stuck here all night, can I?”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat when he steps closer, the heat of Jungkook’s body radiating through the air between you.

“I-”you begin, but your voice falters as he reached across the counter, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. Jungkook’s touch is featherlight, but it is strong enough t send a ripple of warmth down your spine. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping,” he says simply, his voice dropping yet another octave. There was no mistaking the intention in his eyes now, the way they darkened with something more primal, more intense. “I’m good at helping. You should know that by now.”

Your heart pounds as Jungkook’s fingers slide along the edge of the desk, closer to where you are standing. His body is a mere inch away, and you can feel the pulse of his presence, his scent mixing with the dusty air.

You are acutely aware of the space between you shrinking, the tension building with each step the handsome man takes.

“You should really get back to work,” you mutter, but it is more out of instinct than actual desire to stop him.

Jungkook’s proximity is suffocating in the best way, and all the rational thoughts in your mind are crumbling under the weight of how badly you want him.

How badly you need him.

Jungkook chuckles, a soft sound that makes something in your chest tighten. “You’re still pretending this is about work?”

His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking gently over the sensitive skin there.

You inhale sharply, your pulse racing.

“No, I’m-” The words are lost as Jungkook leans in, lips brushing against your ear.

“Good,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “Because I’ve been thinking about you ever since I saw you across the lecture theatre.”

Your breath hitches, and you turned your head just enough for your lips to brush his jaw.

The heat between you is electric, palpable. It is more than just words or flirty exchanges now - it is the space you’d been unwilling to acknowledge. The space that is now pulling you in with irresistible force.

Here it is! Do let me know if you want to be tagged :)

[lale-txt]

❦ IDLE HANDS (Kuroo x f!reader)

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two.

a/n: little something for @husbandograveyard ♡ writing this made me a Kuroo girlie. i get it now. i really, REALLY do. also when i started writing this i was aiming for 1k or so idk what possessed me but here we are. maybe listening to bouncy while writing this wasn't the best idea (lie)

tags: f!reader, mild enemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, shameless flirting, food mention, bit of a slow burn, they're so in love your honor

wc: 3.7k

Kuroo Tetsuro is a heartthrob.

With his stupid messy hair and his stupid rolled up sleeves, showing off his stupid toned arms while he’s mumbling stupid sweet things to your favorite cat that’s currently coiling underneath his stupid big hand, getting the best belly rubs of her life from the looks of it. 

It’s not like you’re jealous or something, no; it’s just that you’ve been coming to this cat café for a year now and you thought you and the calico shared a special bond. Maru, who is just as her name implies, very round and very soft, has been sitting and purring by your side while you spend hours typing page after page of your next book. She’d also stretch out all over your laptop and remind you to take a break when you’ve been going at it for hours. Yes, it took you some bribery to win her heart but over the past months she really warmed up to you. Wow, she usually isn’t this friendly with people, you remember the café owner say once. 

What a blatant lie. 

Your peace has been disturbed. A slight shift in the universe when he showed up for the first time merely a week ago. It was easy to remember him, because he was sitting in your spot with your favorite cat purring in his lap, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world except maybe that untamed hair of his (and even this was kind of charming, you had to admit begrudgingly).

Sharing usually wasn’t a big deal for you–until it was. You come to this cat café almost every day, feeling much more inspired to write here than in the shoebox you call your apartment at the other end of town. Your landlady doesn’t allow pets, so this place has been a lifeline in the tiring times of deadlines and rejected book deals. At the end of the day there was always a cat rubbing against your legs, reminding you that not everything was bad and that no matter how severe things got, there was always a kitty waiting to be picked up.

You hold this place very dear to your heart, a secret gem you felt a need to protect. It is hidden away in a side street, far from the hectic buzz of the city. The interior is cozy, it isn’t too big and the owner, an elderly lady with candy cotton hair and knuckle tattoos, lives upstairs and treats the place like her second living room with all six of her cats. There’s never too many other guests around and in the corner seat by the window you can unravel your thoughts quietly. It feels homey, something you haven’t felt in a long time.

But now there is an intruder in a business suit and you didn’t really know how to deal with that new found irritation.

“That’s my spot.”

Balancing your laptop, notebook, a slice of carrot cake and a hot drink in one hand, all manners aside, you point at the stranger with your other. In your right mind you know it is rude to point at people, but to be fair he kinda started it by sitting where you rightfully belong. His eyes, a certain gleam in them, follow your movement down to the cat curled up on top of his thighs. With the amount of cat hair sticking to his suit pants you could only pray for him that he had a lint roller somewhere at his desk. 

He cocks his head to the side, giving you a boyish smirk that maybe would make your heart skip a beat if it wasn’t for his audacity. 

“Usually I ask someone’s name first and take them on a few dates before I let them sit in my lap, but I guess I can make an exception,” he replies and you never in your life before wanted to strangle someone so badly. If that wasn’t already worse enough, the tuxedo cat lifts its small head and slowly blinks at you before jumping down from his lap, as if it was trying to make space for you. My bad, didn’t know this seat was taken. Here, girl, you have it.

For once in your life you’re too stunned to speak. You watch the stranger check his watch and let out an almost inaudible sigh before he grabs his backpack (one that looks like he has had it since high school) and stands up to full height. He’s in your space now and you have to crank your neck slightly to meet his eyes. Mentally you’re adding stupidly tall to your list of things you hate about him. 

“Gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

True to his words he is there the next day, too. This time around you managed to secure your spot by the window, three cats idly sleeping next to you on. You’ve been stuck on a paragraph for almost an hour now when the doorbell chimes and his figure appears at the counter. The cats look up with interest but you force yourself not to pay any attention to him, which is hard when his order is literally “I’ll have whatever she is having”, followed by a nod in your direction and this cheeky smile again. 

This damn smile.

“You didn’t strike me as a dirty chai drinker,” you deadpan when he takes a seat at the table next to yours. The café is almost empty around this time of the day, which is no surprise since most of the workers in this district are having a hearty meal for lunch and not whatever sweet delicacies this place is offering. 

He peels himself out of his suit jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. The same cat as yesterday jumps into his lap immediately after he sits down, giving you a look of “if you don’t want him, I’ll take him” and you almost roll your eyes. Kuroo (you learn his name from the ID he is wearing around his neck) seems to notice and he grins at you. 

“Then what did I strike you as?” he asks, his chin resting in one hand while his other finds the soft fur of the kitty, stroking it gently. 

You look him up and down, now taking your time while stretching out the silence between you two. Only the purring of the cats and the soft music in the background could be heard. At first glance he seems like your typical office worker in the three piece suit who spends his time filling out spreadsheets and drinking cheap vending-machine coffee from the conbini next door. Everything a little rumpled, himself included, someone so used to tristesse he doesn’t even notice it anymore. 

Only at second glance do you notice the small wrinkles around his eyes, not from age but from laughter. The dimples when he smiles down at the tuxedo cat in his lap, now showing off its belly. His calloused hands, atypical for an office worker, more like you’d see them at craftsmen or athletes. Something in his eyes that radiates warmth and an air of calm confidence. None of it is unpleasant.

“If I had to guess, maybe three espresso with a pump of caramel and honey,” you say, more to yourself than to him. Kuroo looks at you in surprise before barking out a laugh. You hate how you like the sound of it.

It’s the beginning of spring and you award Kuroo Tetsuro the title of the greatest nuisance you’ve ever met.

In the midst of summer, you pity him. 

“I’m just saying that maybe you radiate a natural fragrance of catnip,” you say as you stir your iced oat milk latte. Kuroo got you that one when he popped in during his lunch break and saw that your glass must have been empty for a while. By that time you were hunched over your laptop, trying to decipher your notes from last night. You had saved him a seat at your table, but if he asked you, you’d say you just happened to put all your belongings on one chair and nothing more.

The man is swarmed by the cats of the café. They didn’t even bother to hide who their favorite is, rubbing around his legs, sitting pressed to his side or just straight up climbing his shoulders. It would’ve been enviable if he wasn’t already sweating from wearing a suit in the humid heat of the summer month alone. 

“Can you get at least one or two off me?” he asks and his tone is close to pleading. It makes you laugh as you stretch out in your light sundress, giving him a look as if you’re contemplating his question. 

“I could, but it’s really much funnier seeing you struggle like that. Serves you well,” you chime and pull out your phone, snapping a photo of this moment. You hold it up for him to see, a kitty phone charm dangling from it (they just happened to come in a pack of two and you gifted him one out of generosity, nothing more). He snatches it from your hands and makes a face.

“So you like seeing me suffer, is that how it is?” he snarls at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His slender fingers fly over the screen of your phone and you let out a small gasp.

“Don’t you dare delete it,” you huff and grab the orange tabby mercifully off his shoulders so you can lean over him better. 

“Relax. I’m only saving my contact info since you never bothered asking me for it despite being my constant for the past three months.”  

There was this cheeky smile again. You blame the flutter of your heart on the caffeine and not the way his pupils are dilating when he gazes at you. 

He loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. Suddenly you’re very aware of how close you’re leaning over at him. Kuroo gives you a little glance from the corner of his eyes and taps the now revealed side of his neck. 

“What do you say? Do I really smell like catnip?” 

Shameless, you think. Unsure if you mean him or yourself when you narrow the distance between you two. You can feel the heat radiating off him and for a brief moment you wonder what it would feel like to press open mouth kisses on his skin. Your eyes flutter shut as you engrave this moment into your heart. 

“Definitely irresistible,” you murmur once you pull back–reluctantly, as if a hidden part of you ached to be in his proximity, in the inside of his soul.  

By autumn you miss him on the days when he was gone. 

He traveled quite a lot. You didn’t know one would need to be on the road so much for something as simple as volleyball (you can imagine the look he’d give you over this). But he was passionate about it and that’s also something you liked about him. The way he talks about the sport holds so much love and you wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Kuroo Tetsuro.

Gentle, you think. Honest. Treasured.

A tap against the window pulls you out of your thoughts and when you look up, you're met with a pair of honey glazed eyes. Whatever he sees when he looks at you, it’s making him grin from ear to ear before he hurries towards the entry door, eager to meet you again.

Kuroo is holding up a bag, some brand of sweets from Hokkaido he’s been texting you about, but you didn’t think he’d actually go so far and bring you some. He sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he rushed all the way to get here and when he keeps on rambling, you order him and yourself a hot matcha boba and a chocolate mousse to share. 

The cats are happy to see him back too, and you laugh when you help him take his scarf off before some kitty claws can tangle up in it. It was a precious gift after all, one you knitted for him, under the feeble excuse of “keeping my hands busy helps me come up with ideas for my writing process”. It makes you happy to see him wearing it, and the color makes you feel as if you took the red string of fate connecting you two and turned it into something to help him stay warm.

You think a lot about kissing him now. Sometimes your hands would brush against each other on the table, neither of you pulling away. He spends his lunch breaks with you and comes to pick you up from the café in the evening, walking you to your station. The two of you still bicker at each other, but underneath lies a certain kind of softness, one that feels too fickle to put it into words just yet but also too bright to ignore. The leaves of the trees are falling and so are you. 

With winter comes snow and the quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, it’s unadulterated love. 

You spend a lot of time huddled together in the corner by the window now. He looks over your shoulder when you type on your laptop, one arm resting idly on the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your spine sometimes. You don’t think he even notices when he lets them run up and down there. Often you forget which cups on the table belong to who but it doesn’t matter since you order the same things anyway and because this could count as an indirect kiss, right? 

On some days he’d just close his eyes and laze next to you, with his head resting on his folded arms on the table and your fingers idly weaving through his hair, before he had to hurry back to work. On others he would tell you excitedly about a special match he was organizing and you can hear the pure joy in his voice. It’s contagious.You get them now, the cats. How drawn they are to him, like chasing sunbeams. 

He spells L-O-V-E on your back with his fingertips and something inside of you softens. 

Then there’s snow, more snow than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and Kuroo comes to pick you up early, the tip of his ears bright red and his cold hands seeking yours to warm them up. 

“I’m really sorry but I’m closing the shop early today,” the café owner apologizes and puts a box of cinnamon rolls for you on your table. “You two kittens better hurry and get home, too. On the radio they said they’re gonna shut everything down soon.”

It can’t be that bad, you think. But when Kuroo and you stand in front of the closed station, it dawns on you that maybe you’ve underestimated the amount of snow a teeny tiny bit. You huddle a little closer to him for warmth and to shield yourself against the snow as you pull out your phone. 

“If there’s no more trains running, I better start looking for a place to stay. With some luck there’s still a few vacant rooms in the hotels nearby…”

Kuroo puts a hand over your screen and gives you a stern look when you open our mouth to protest. 

“You can crash at my place for the night. I live close by," he mutters and it doesn’t really leave room to decline his offer. Maybe it’s not really an offer to begin with; more of a silent pleading to stay. Not just for the duration of the snowstorm, but forever maybe. 

His place is just like you imagined it would be like. Not overly spacious but it feels like a home in every corner. There’s photos on the wall, back from when he was a kid to his high school and college years, and pinned with a magnet to the fridge is also a polaroid he took of you back in summer. In it you’re laughing about something silly he said and you’re holding up two cats at once, one strap of your sundress almost slipping down your shoulder. You still remember how he fixed it for you because you didn’t have a hand free and how his fingers lingered for longer than necessary. 

You hope one day he won’t pull his hand away anymore.

The apartment is certainly not messy but you can see he lives in this place, with some papers scattered across the coffee table and the unmade bed and the slightly concerning stock of buldak noodles in the kitchen shelves (in which you peeked out of curiosity into while he was in the shower). You imagine yourself living here, too. Maybe you’d get a cat on your own and plants for the balcony once this winter was over. 

The laundry machine rumbles quietly in the background after you step out of the bathroom, too. It wasn’t just the steamy shower that had your cheeks feel hot, it was also his clothes that he put out for you, with his scent lingering on them and engulfing you softly. Kuroo appears with two cups from the kitchen and pauses when he sees you, his mouth opening and closing again as his eyes flicker over your form. He doesn’t want to stare but also he does want to stare, wants to drink you in and memorize every detail of this moment. 

You can see his Adam's apple bop slightly when he swallows and nods over to the couch, and it’s at this moment that you know you’re not leaving this apartment again before every inch of your skin has been plastered in kisses. 

“It’s not as good as the one’s at the café but I tried my best for my special guest,” he laughs quietly when he hands you your cup, his fingers brushing against yours. The hot chocolate looks impossibly sweet, with whipped cream and sprinkles on top (they’re not ordinary sprinkles, you realize, but tiny cat shaped ones), and the first sip would’ve been enough to send you in some higher spheres if you weren’t in a state of bliss due to his proximity already. You put the cups to cool down on the coffee table and sink into the couch. 

Outside the snow is falling relentlessly, muffling the sounds of the outside world and opening up a new one, right here in these four walls.

In his arms. 

Without realizing you both settled down in your now familiar positions, only closer this time. Huddled next to each other, with one of his arms around your shoulder drawing you nearer to him. It feels natural, the way your head comes to rest against his shoulder and your legs thrown over his lap, the two of you sharing a blanket. 

He’s warm. Kuroo is so warm. 

And when he presses a fleeting kiss on top of your head it’s like everything is falling in place; the months of pining and yearning and unspoken desire. In the midst of a snowstorm both of your hearts are set ablaze, with a tenderness you haven’t experienced in this lifetime before. You sure hope he will find you in the next and the one after that as well because you never want to miss his embrace ever again. 

“That’s my spot,” you murmur and Kuroo laughs, the kind with his head tilted back and his chest rumbling. His grip around you tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer, till you’re really in his lap now, your head tucked under his chin. 

“Damn right it is.” 

You can feel his heart drum, or maybe it’s your own that’s doing somersaults–either way, it’s the same rhythm, a steady thrumming and rattling, begging to be felt. Time seems to freeze at this moment and you’re both quiet. Cat’s got your tongue. Kuroo has both arms around you now, and one of his hands settles on your waist, at the part where your sweatshirt is bunched up a little. His thumb draws small patterns against your bare skin, his touch featherlight and gentle.

You lift your head, only enough so you can catch his gaze. For the first time in your life you understand what it means to have your heart in your throat, because he takes your breath away with a simple glance. His other hand comes to rest against your cheek, cupping your face softly while his grip around your waist tightens a fraction.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters and you can see his sharp teeth flash in the corner of your eyes when he laughs. 

“Like what?” “You know what.” “I think I’ll need to have it spelled out for me.”

He laughs again and this time he leans in closer till his breath is fanning over your skin and everything is happening all at once. Honey and caramel eyes asking you to drown in them. The heat of his body mingling with yours. Your fingers playing with the shaved part of hair in the back of his neck, sending small shivers down his spine.

“Oh, I’ll spell it out for you alright.”

Kuroo kisses you with all the gentleness of the world. It feels as natural as if he had done this countless times before, as if he had kissed you in every life prior to that. He hums into the kiss and smiles when your lips part for him so willingly, and then he deepens the kiss in a way that makes you forget your name for a heartbeat or two. 

Sweet, you think. Soft and saccharine. And warm. So warm. The same what loving Kuroo feels like.

[thefreakandthehair]

jacket.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: jacket | wc: 999 | rating: teen & up | tags: alternate universe- no upside down, alternate universe- coffee shop au, different first meeting, musician!Eddie (if you squint), barista!Steve, platonic stobin, meddling Robin, flirting, fluff, getting together, requited pining

“Need me to grab the mop bucket?” Robin asks, leaning forward and into his field of vision. 

Steve snaps back into reality from an elongated daydream to find Robin staring at him, grinning maniacally. 

“Did I spill something?” He checks around the back of the display case, finding nothing.

“No, you’re just drooling, that’s all.” Robin shrugs and claps him on the shoulder. “You ever gonna talk to him?” 

“I talk to him every day, Rob—” Steve starts but doesn’t get to finish because the Him in question appears.

A chill blows through the door along with him, a dusting of snow stuck to his sneakers and dotting the shoulders of his leather jacket. Steve’s not sure how he’s even wearing that thing over what looks to be several layers of teeshirts and under a thick, denim vest laden with hand stitched patches. 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Robin whispers and scurries away, smirking. 

He hates her. 

He loves her, but he hates her. 

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve welcomes his favorite customer, feigning normalcy because he’s anything but normal about this man he can’t stop fucking daydreaming about. “What’ll you have today?”

“Hmm,” Eddie ponders, throwing his jacket over the back of his usual chair at a bistro table by the window. “What was that gingerbread whatever the fuck you made yesterday?” 

Steve laughs, his nose crinkling. “I don’t think that’s what it’s called but if that’s what you want, I can make it for you.”

“Sign me up, big boy. Give me something hot and sweet,” Eddie winks and hands Steve a few dollar bills, their fingers grazing. Steve’s heart thumps in his chest as he tries to remember how to work the stupid cash register. Eddie pockets his change and heads over to the small table. 

Steve does his best not to stare, but the coffee shop is quiet today and he can only pretend to clean the countertop so many times until that becomes more obvious than Steve just… looking. So he looks. 

Like every other day for the last few months, Eddie whips out a notebook and sips the sugary abomination as he writes. Tapping his pen against the laminate of the table, scratching his chin, watching out the window, and then writing in unpredictable bursts only to repeat the cycle again and again. Steve doesn’t know anything about Eddie and asking what he’s working on in this private little notebook feels invasive. 

Not that he doesn’t wonder out loud when Eddie’s not around— it’s why Robin won’t stop teasing him. 

The snow continues to fall, sparkly fat flakes that stick to the sidewalk as Eddie works, and writes, and taps his pen just loud enough for Steve to make over the low hum of the holiday music they’re forced to play. 

“Fuck!” Eddie shouts, startling Steve out of his thoughts as he scrambles to shove the notebook into his bag. “Sorry, I’m just, I’m late for a really important practice and just realized the time. Thanks for the coffee, Steve!” 

“You’re wel—” The bell over the door chimes before he can finish the word, “—come.”

“Goddamn it,” Steve sighs. 

“Still nothing?” Robin pokes her head out from the backroom where she’d stayed hidden for absolutely no reason. 

“No, Robin. Still nothing. He’s a customer and I don’t wanna be a creep, okay?” 

“It didn’t stop you when we worked at the ice cream parlor. Or the video store. Or the—”

“I’ve evolved! Give me some credit!”  

“Oh, look!” Robin ignores him and walks past him to grab a leather jacket off of the back of Eddie’s chair. “He left his jacket! You can start a conversation when he comes back for it, right?” 

“Who do you think I am? Cinderella?” Steve laughs, but takes the jacket all the time. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “Well, technically, he’d be Cinderella. He left this jacket behind like some sort of metalhead glass slipper.”

“Let me try again: who do you think I am? A fucking Disney prince?”

“You could be if you tried harder.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just shakes his head again and quietly takes the jacket home with him for safekeeping. He’ll give it back to Eddie tomorrow, and maybe Robin will stop making jokes about Disney movies. 

Except Eddie doesn’t come back the next day. 

Or the day after that. 

A week passes, and Eddie still hasn’t come back for his jacket or his daily coffee that’s more syrup than coffee, but Steve keeps the jacket, brings it back and forth to and from work every day for over a week. 

It’s a bitterly cold morning when Steve eventually breaks. Eddie’s leather jacket hangs over his arm, like it has every morning, and he stops at a crosswalk to throw it on over his own bomber jacket. Warm and rich, he lifts the top collar up over his face to protect his frozen nose and inhales the remnants of smoke and musk. 

When he finally makes it to the shop, he breathes a sigh of relief that Robin cranked the thermostat. 

“There it is,” a familiar voice pops up behind him. “I thought I left it here.” 

Steve’s not cold anymore, hot embarrassment flushing from his chest to his cheeks as he turns around and sees Eddie there, sitting at a table with his notebook and a smile. 

“I was— I wasn’t—” He sputters. 

“Robin told me, don’t worry. Why don’t you uh, why don’t you hang onto it today and maybe give it back to me tonight? Over dinner, if you’re free?”

He can’t even be mad when Robin looks at him from over the counter with a very conspicuous thumbs up. 

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m free,” Steve agrees, maybe a bit too quickly but subtly has never been his strong suit. 

“Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You should wear the jacket,” Eddie's face flushes as he pulls a lock of hair just in front of his lips. “It looks great on you.

[thewritetofreespeech]

kinktober: frottage

tags: frottage, making out, secret relationship, targaryen incest [aemond/rhaenyra's daughter], immense pinning by aemond

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

“Where is Aemond?”

“I do not know your grace,” Larys replied. Remaining calm in the Queens frustration. She had been hunting for her middle son for hours, and he was no where to be found. “I have checked with the guards and sentries, and no one has seen him leave by Vahgar or horse.”

“So, he must still be in the city.” Alicent deduced. Hoping he was still in the castle as well. “The conclave starts soon, and we need…a united front for the court.” The plan to weave her family’s place to the crown was to start today. First, but claiming Driftmark back from Rhaenyra's brood. Then, with them illegitimized, start making the case that Aegon should be king. “He knows how important today is. How could he do this to me?!”

“The prince is nothing but a servant to duty.” Larys assured her. He may not see eye-to-eye with the prince, at least with the one he had left, but the Lord did respect that he seemed committed to his family and their goal. “I’m sure he will come out of hiding eventually.”

In a further, deeper part of the castle, indeed hidden away from all those who had not truly explored it, Aemond laid sequestered with his maiden. Marveling at her beauty in the low light between kisses. Beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck from the warmth of the candles in the small space and their hot, panting breath. Bucking against each other with soft gasps & grunts in the nest he had built for them

“We have to go.” His lady insisted. For the umpteenth time, yet neither one of them had made a legitimate effort to move.

“No, no. Not yet.”

Aemond didn’t want to go back to the ‘real world’. A world where his family and hers were fighting. Where the rift between them seemed to grow every day. Separating them. Lines in the sand now a chasm that seemed impossible to overcome.

He also knew what was to happen today to Rhaenyra's bastards, and that she might not forgive him for his part in the plot of disinheriting her brothers. Aemond wanted to stay here a little longer, where she wouldn’t be mad at him.

“People will be looking for us.” She told him as he moved to her neck, which was freely given.

“They’ll never find us.” It had taken him years to find this place and even then it had been difficult to remember where the opening was until he had committed it to memory.

“Oh yes. Because you’re so clever. Ow!” His lady yipped but then moaned when he bit at her neck. A true Targaryen. Wanting a little pain with her pleasure.

“We should just leave and never come back.”

He’d made the offer before. To take their dragons and ride until they reach new land. Conquer it like their ancestors. Build a new kingdom, instead of being stuck in this conflicting one.

Yet, every time, she just laughed it off as a joke like she did now. Not realizing the seriousness of how much he wanted to leave, and never come back, and just be the two of them in the world. “You would miss the tarts too much if we left. Come on. Let’s get going.”

Aemond finally let her go, though disappointed about it, and let her right herself.

In the right light, her mused hair and clothes looked like she had been riding. No one would think where Rhaenyra's Targaryen jewel had truly been. In the arms of her scorned, much less beloved uncle. His cock throbbed in his breeches. Desperate to make her truly his, but he would not take such liberties. Aemond would not tarnish their jewel nor besmirch her honor. He loved her too much for that. That’s why he wanted her to run away with him, so they could be together. Growing up in a world beloved & adored, she does not see that her parents will never allow them to marry. Never allow them to be happy. Their jewel will be given to someone politically inclined to help secure her mother’s place on the throne, and Aemond would be unhappy & unfulfilled.

He would join the Watch before he call anyone but her wife.

Righted and upright, Aemond tucked a lock of silver behind her ear. Marveling at the affection reflected in her eyes. “Will you see me later? After the conclave?”

“Of course.” She told him. Her earnest something he wanted to hold on to. “Here, or somewhere else before dinner?”

“Here.” Where he could pretend. And if he spoke his words sweet enough maybe she would take him up on his offer to finally run away.

They exit their nook and depart. Her back to her family and Aemond to his. His mother found him readily enough, given how frantically at this point she had been looking for him, and asked where he had been.

“Day dreaming.” Was all he told her. It was a peculiarly enough answer that it halted all further questions from his mother and left him to get ready for the meeting.

After today, his daydreams where all he might have left. Let him keep them for a little while longer at least.

[mydarlingclaudia]

bunnies love bouncing

note : divider is from @/aquazero. my mutuals have been making me think about ogre4 Leon more than I already do so this is what I spat out I know this kinda sucks. sorry I always have to write like eight paragraphs of lore before the smut starts it's who I am. Leon is ooc sorry I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WRITE HIM dw about it kitten. I don't know how I feel about this one. mdni

wc : 1.7k

tags : @lottiies

desc : you're supposed to make him feel good, why not make him feel even better? smut!! - unprotected p in v, reverse cowgirl, light choking. little bit of fluff, fem!hybrid!reader, post re4og!Leon, not proofread.

The whole reason Leon got you was because you were supposed to be therapeutic, somehow. He didn't really understand how having a roommate he had to take care of was supposed to help him feel better, he didn't even feel like he even needed therapy, but the whole situation had been referred to him by some other agents in the DSO before Spain, but when you were the hybrid that had been picked out for him and you looked at him with your pretty little eyes with your cute rabbit ears twitching atop your head, Leon couldn't really imagine turning you away.

Leon can't help but be a little bit mean to you, you're so easy to tease and he loves the way your nose twitches and your foot thumps against the floor when you get upset. You always forgive him in a matter of minutes, anyway, all he has to do is open his palm and show you a piece of candy he had hidden away and you're already nestled into his side.

His least favorite part of having you might be having to buy you clothes. You take so long to try on everything, and you insist on showing him each new outfit you get to make sure it looks nice or that he likes it. And you always want these cute panties and bras, which of course absolutely had to be modeled for him. But whenever it came to underwear, you’d pull Leon into the fitting room, which made everything way too close for comfort, and you’d spin around and ask him if the underwear looked good on you and he’d have to pretend he wasn’t starting to feel hot. Not to mention how cute your little cottontail looked perched above your panties.

And you’re cute, always waiting by the door for Leon when he comes back from work, snuggling up to him so quickly that he has to pry you off of him to even be able to get his shoes off. He’ll tell you to scram for a few minutes while he unpacks his things and finishes whatever paperwork he had to take home with him, you always sigh and wander into the living room to watch tv, hoping Leon will be done soon so he’ll keep paying attention to you.

You got attached quickly, that made Leon feel kinda good, he supposed. Leon had to get your own flip phone for when he went away on missions, in case of an emergency or to order yourself pizza, but you ended up calling his agency more often than not. And you were allowed to since you were registered as a therapy hybrid under the agency, you weren’t allowed to speak to Leon directly when he was on the job, but Hunnigan would always let him know when you called and asked how he was doing, she always humored you, it was cute to her.

Having you around does make him feel a bit better, getting extra attention is nice and you’re always so sweet to him, Leon figures that taking care of you isn’t too bad sometimes.

He gets to see you naked every so often.

It’s cute, you always strip down to nothing when it gets too hot at night, it doesn’t stop you from sweating through the night, unfortunately. You’d always wander into Leon’s room come morning and ask him for a bath, trying to climb into his bed even when you were still naked.

The first time you had done it, he had groaned and held his hands out in front of his eyes to keep himself from oogling you for too long, but you had flopped down onto his stomach and just laid there for a few minutes while he debated whether or not this was a good idea or not.

It became more normal now, not that he minded, he likes to reach down and give your tail a gentle yank just to hear you yelp. Maybe even “accidentally” grope you just because he can.

You sit too close to him sometimes, too. Sometimes you’re on his lap, either facing away from him or with your head buried in his neck, either way, he’s gripping onto your legs, trying not to focus on how you’re squirming in his lap.

He likes when you curl up into his bed at night, you grip onto him like a bear-trap and don’t let go until morning. Leon’s aware of everything all the time, especially on how your lips are pressed against his neck, he knows you’re not trying to kiss him, but he can delude himself a tiny bit.

You were so sweet tonight, babbling about how you had missed him and how warm he felt. Leon couldn’t help but kiss your cheek, you had giggled as you squeezed him tighter and pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return.

Things escalated kind of quickly. One second you and Leon are kissing each other's faces, the next his tongue is down your throat, then the very next, your back is to him as you ride him.

Leon’s grip on your hips is almost bruising, guiding your body while your hands grip just above his knees to keep yourself upright. He can’t tear his gaze away from your cottontail, smiling to himself as he watches it twitch.

“You’re so cute,” Leon murmurs, pulling you down to meet his upward thrust. You groaned, your nails digging into his skin, Leon’s hands left your hips and trailed up your stomach until he cupped your breasts, yanking you back against his chest. “So sweet for me, too.”

His lips attach to your shoulder, planting kisses on any open space he could find. While his hips were busy rutting against you, driving his dick into you, his hands busied themselves with kneading your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingertips.

“You were such a-a blabber-mouth before, mm fuck, you’re finally quiet now, hm?” Leon teases, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your breasts.

“M-missed you,” You pant, moving faster to match his movements, you smile to yourself when he lets out a groan as you clamp down around him.

“I know, God- mhm- always so good to me. Just wanna make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,”

“You’re doing a pretty good job. Sooo perfect, holy shit-“ He stops fucking up into you for a few seconds, letting you do the work as focused on the feeling of your hot cunt sucking him in. You had been so ready for him when he pulled off your panties, he couldn't help but drool a little at the sight of you all wet for him, couldn't hold back from giving your clit a few kisses and gentle nips, either.

Leon's right hand leaves your breast to move behind you, tugging at the tips of your droopy rabbit ears, tipping your head back a little bit as you hiss. He tuts, bringing the furry flap of cartilage to his mouth to press a kiss against it, finally deciding to start bucking his hips again.

Holy Hell, the wet sounds coming from the two of you were gonna be stuck in his head for the next two weeks, at least. Not to mention the noises falling from your mouth and the way you looked bouncing up and down on his cock, he'd have to have you facing him the next time you do this.

And you felt like you were on fire.

You weren't gonna tell Leon, but you've been wishing for this to happen since forever. And maybe it's dumb to crush on the guy who takes care of you, but you can't help it! Just like how you can't help humping his pillows when he's gone, or wearing his shirts when you have a whole closet full of clothes you asked him to buy you, but this was way better than any of that. You were willing to do this until you were all sore and Leon had to do all the work, you wouldn't even mind passing out.

And he felt better than any dream you could have, mostly because of how he's hardly giving you a break, but also because it's him.

You're pulled from your barely-there thoughts as Leon's bicep wraps around your throat, squeezing gently as your head tips back and his other hand shoots down to play with your clit. Was he trying to drive you crazy? Your hands grip his arm, fingernails digging into his flesh as you try to ground yourself, trying to take in as much air as you can in case he decides to squeeze harder.

"Feel good?" He mutters against the side of your head, smiling as you nod. His fingers poke and pinch at your clit, your own thrusts start slowing down as you begin to feel your orgasm start to coil up in your belly.

Your head droops down, resting against his bicep as his grip loosens, you almost whine when his fingers leave your clit to hold onto your stomach, keeping you against him even more.

"Gonna tell my boss to give you a f-fucking promotion when we're done," Leon pants, the noises coming from his mouth slowly becoming more needy, doing nothing to aid in stopping your arousal. "Cum, please. Gonna lose it. Shit-"

Leon offers up a few more hard thrusts before you feel the coil snap and you cum, biting down on his forearm as you breathe through your nose. Leon isn't far behind, his thrusts become lazy as he reaches his own high, his arm moves from your neck to wrap around your shoulder to hold onto you tightly, you shiver as you feel his cum coat your insides.

"Happy?" You mumble to him, tilting your head to rest against his as you teasingly tease his spent dick, listening to him groan while he weakly thrusts against you.

"Very," Leon presses a kiss to your head and loosens his grip on you, letting you rise off of him. "Let me see your face, next time." You turn to face him, draping your legs over his while you lay down on the bed and catch your breath. Leon should have gotten you sooner.

"You can see my face now,"

"Don't play dumb, you know what I mean."

[itostea]

hot things bllk boys do as your boyfriend (rin, shidou, nagi & chigiri)

warnings: suggestive in shidou’s part, reader is called pretty girl in shidou’s part

credits to whoever did this idea first! and repost bc i forgot tags oops

rin:

poking the side of his mouth with his tongue whenever you’re showing him a new outfit 🤭🤭

“So what do you think?” You beam with a grin, doing a twirl for him to get a 360 of your clothes. A half-empty bag is disregarded on the side of your shared bed. You can see your reflection on the side mirror and how the fabric fits around your waist. The dress isn’t anything special in design but its intended use is to be frame flattering–the kind of dress that you can wear on any occasion. It’s one of the few things you came to really like from your online purchase and insisted Rin see. In the end, you ended up forcing him to sit through your haul (not that he really minds).

Teal eyes flit from side-to-side and subconsciously, his tongue pokes the side of his cheek. The scrutiny, though it shouldn’t, makes you nervous. You don’t think he’s yet to understand the effect he has on you. Comically, you straighten up when he’s about to speak, making him raise a brow in question. “The dress’s a bit short.”

“But it’s cute right?!” You whine, doing another twirl for emphasis and stepping closer to him.

“It’s not bad.”

“Huh? Are you sure? I thought this was one of the better picks…” You frown, your spirits dying as you were excited to show him the dress.

“It only looks good because you’re wearing it,” he speaks frankly, leaning back to observe you again. Like before, his tongue probes at the inside of his cheek whilst studying you.

You try your best not to react and try not to squirm underneath his gaze and how effortlessly good he looks. “H-Huh? Yeah thanks…”

“Why are you acting shy now?”

“I’m not!”

shidou:

hand placement. that’s it.

“Ryu! Get off of me!” You sigh for nth time, helplessly writhing underneath him. “At least take a shower first before you hug me…”

“You complain too much baby,” he taps the side of your cheek with a boyish smile. “Can’t believe my girl can be so mean. After a day of tiring practice too.”

“Uh huh, I’m pretty sure it was only tiring since you’re always butting heads with Rin.”

He ignores your insult and instead leans up. “When were you on first name basis with that bastard?”. Little strands of hair fall over his forehead and his pink eyes glow above you. From below, you can really see the product of his hard work. His sweat still clings to him but that only draws more attention to his biceps and muscles. You see a smug smile on his face, realizing that you were caught gawking at him.

You avert your eyes with embarrassment written all over your face. “Shut up, I wasn't looking. And besides you literally call him Rinrin.”

He only bursts in laughter. “I didn’t say anything yet! Awh I didn’t think you’d get jealous!”

“Huh?! Aren’t you the jeal–!”

He interrupts you with another pat on the cheek. “Well don’t worry I won’t call him any nicknames reserved for you. Alright sweetheart? Or did you like baby more? Or was it pretty girl?” He teases leaning closely to you, pressing kisses over the crevice of your neck with a coy grin. His grin only widens when you gasp and whisper-yell his name when he bites down softly on your neck. “You wanna join me in the shower?” He breathes against your neck.

You’re not a fool to miss the hidden meaning behind that offer, well aware that the two of you weren’t just going to shower. “I gotta run some errands,” you say half-heartedly, not really convinced that you want that.

“Yeah?” He chuckles close up to your neck before he props himself with his arm bent while the other pushes your lips closer to his. Your body jolts as his hand creeps down to rest on your neck–with his thumb rubbing little circles over the fresh mark he just left. When he disconnects from your lips, a familiar gleam in his eyes draws your attention. “Still don’t wanna join me?”

“My errands–” Another kiss. A gentle squeeze to your neck as he deepens the kiss. You can’t find yourself to be mad when you feel his grin against your lips. In vain, you try to muster up a glare as you purse your lips. “Ryu–!”

Again. Only this time that hand slides down to rest at your hip. The sound of his lips against yours is enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. And he doesn’t seem like he’d be backing down either.

“Okay fine! I’ll join you in the shower, you demon!”

“Knew you’d come around.” He pulls you up and only returns your glares with a cheeky smile.

You pout as he gathers you in his arms, not finding much in your heart to push him away. “You did all of that on purpose didn’t you.”

“So what if I did babe? It always works doesn’t it?”

nagi:

literally lifts you like it’s nothing 😭😭😭

“We gotta go pretty…C’mon, get out of bed.”

“Don’t wanna…”

Nagi finds the situation to be amusing, seeing as the roles are reversed with you being the lazy one and him trying to pry you awake. He’s not usually one to wake up early but after the release of a new game he’s been wanting to try, he wanted to get his hands on it before it sold out. Again, he tries to gently shake you awake, suddenly gaining a newfound respect for you–seeing as you dealt with similar situations involving him.

“Why can’t you just go alone?” You whine, covering your face with the blanket.

“You said you wanted to try that bakery’s pastries, didn't you?”

“Can’t you just get them for me after you finish buying the game…” You mumble.

Nagi sighs. He could. But he doesn’t want to. Call it selfish but he doesn’t want to go alone. It’d be such a hassle if the line was long and he’d be waiting by himself–without you to talk to. “Nope. Can’t do that.”

“Why not?” You complain for another time, your voice muffled by the blankets. You hear the ruffling of the blanket and how the bed flattens with his knee. Your hands come to cover your eyes from the early sun streaks peeking into the room, scowling once you see your boyfriend holding the blanket in between his hands.

He looks at you blankly. “Don’t make me carry you…”

“Huh? As if. You’re too lazy to do all that work–! Sei?!” Suddenly, you’re a few feet up, face-to-face with a fluff of white hair. Your look of shock brings a small smile to Nagi’s features and he can’t help but pinch your cheek in between his fingers, positioning you so you could fit in his arm.

“I wouldn’t really call this work. This wouldn’t even count as a workout either…” he glances at you, proceeding to carry you to the restroom so you could get ready. “Let’s get you more awake ‘kay?”

You blink. You’re awake now. Completely. Sometimes or maybe too often, you forget the extent of your boyfriend’s strength and that’s always given him an advantage in the element of surprise. Even now, you gape as he continues to handle your body in his arms as if this was just a stroll in the park.

“Hey…I can walk there myself…” You protest weakly, opting to cross your hands rather than resist.

“Nah, don’t want you running away from me. Of course if that happens, I’ll just have to carry you again.”

chigiri:

maintains eye contact with you all the time 😩😩

A hand brushes over your shoulder as you’re doing your skincare, applying the moisturizer carefully over your face with your eyes fixed on the mirror. Glancing at your boyfriend, you tilt your head. “Yes?”

“Don’t apply your moisturizer like that. Do it like this,” he motions with his fingers, only smiling when you only blink. “Here let me do it.”

With a nod, you face him, allowing him to massage the product onto your face. “Feels nice, Hyoma.”

“I bet,” he mumbles quietly, lightly chuckling as you make a noise of displeasure when he rubs a spot too hard. Rosy eyes watch you carefully as his nimble fingers continue to massage in the residue of any leftover product. You feel yourself getting a bit bashful underneath his gaze, preferring to just avert your eyes to the side while he continues to apply the cream on you. “Not gonna look at me?” He teases, collectively deciding to just finish your skincare routine for you.

His fingers reach over to grab onto your lip balm, unclasping the container and gathering a reasonable amount on his finger. With his thumb and pointer finger, he holds onto your chin and smooths the substance over your lips. You try not to tense from his hold, still stubborn in ignoring his gaze. “I am looking at you.”

“Right,” he laughs. “Anddddd there. Done.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally peeping a look to gaze at your boyfriend. He’s still smiling, only this time his eyes crinkle at the sight of you looking so meek.

“You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

Your hands cover your face as a sound escapes your throat. “Please stop, you're gonna kill me here.”

[onlyangel4]

party girl animal shelter. cl16. SMAU. part one.

charles leclerc x animal shelter owner! reader

after getting leo charles realises becomes more connected to the animal world. he stumbles across a tik tok of your shelter in las vegas and decides that he needs to visit.

warnings: cursing

author's note: this will likely be a two or three part mini series. as someone who volunteers at an animal shelter this is truly self-indulgent

faceclaim: olivia o'brien

part two

y/npartygirlshelter posted a slideshow on tik tok

y/npartygirlshelter

liked by y/bff, friend1, charlesleclerc and 3,402 others

tagged y/bff

y/npartygirlshelter: a trip to vegas to celebrate three years of party girl animal shelter. we really do live up to the name

view all 56 comments

y/bff: you taking a call about a puppy admission in the middle of the club was peak party girl animal shelter business

y/npartygirlshelter: the duality of woman

user1: i'm new here but i love your vibe ! i'm so glad you can be a party girl and still live your dream

y/npartygirlshelter: aw thank you angel, check you dms i sent you a few pictures from the shelter i thought you might like

leclercupdates posted a story

written: charles is officially the first driver to touch down in las vegas. we wonder what he is doing here so early.

y/bff posted a story tagging y/npartygirlshelter

written: omw to go meet my favourite f1 driver all because y/n is the best friend a girl could wish for

y/npartygirlshelter posted a story tagging charlesleclerc

written: safe to say rolo is already in love with today's visitor

charlesleclerc posted two stories tagging y/npartygirlshelter

charlesleclerc

liked by carlossainz, landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,201,101 others

tagged y/npartygirlshelter

charlesleclerc: today i got to visit a hidden gem in vegas. the party girl animal shelter is an animal shelter run by y/n t/ln a twenty three year old that lost her father three years ago. she used her inheritance to build this wonderful place. i am so grateful for all the animals that i got to meet, i exhibited great control by not getting leo a brother. thank you y/n for having me !

view all 14,501 comments

danielricciardo: so this is what you do. get to vegas early just to spend time with a pretty girl and some very cute animals. fair play charles. fair play.

charlesleclerc: don't hate the player hate the game

y/npartygirlshelter: when the fuck did you manage to get sunglasses on elvis?

charlesleclerc: when you were busy feeding the others

user2: bro she fine as hell

user6: i just did a deep dive on her tik tok, she is so hot and funny as fuck as well. charles you need to date her before i do.

landonorris: can i come next time you go

charlesleclerc: no. find your own hidden gem

user11: bro met her today and is already down bad

y/npartygirlanimalshelter

liked by charlesleclerc, y/bff, landonorris and 12,301 others

tagged charlesleclerc

y/npartygirlshelter: a massive thank you to today's guest of honour (pictured here with our lovely resident blue) who brought be a lego bouquet because it is too hot here in vegas for real flowers

view all 2011 comments

y/bff: thank you so much for letting me crash so i could meet him

charlesleclerc: it was lovely meeting you y/bff

y/npartygirlshelter: charles you are going to give my best friend a heart attack

charlesleclerc: thank you for teaching me all about your residents

y/npartygirlshelter: anytime charles

user21: not daniel being in likes! hope you can fight charles

user4: shit she is stunning oh my god

[godmadeaterribleerror]

I've Never Been Higher

Main Masterlist - Soldier Boy Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, established realtionship, the tiniest amount of fluff and angst, just pure, raw smut (fingering, p in v sex, choking)

Summary/Warnings: Request from an anon! After you get drunk and expose your secret relationship with Ben, you know there will be consequences. Good thing they seem to be the fun kind.

Author's Note: I'm putting this one in the 60s-ish. It is very horny. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5k

This is a disaster. 

You barely drink. It takes half a bar to get you drunk at all. You rarely have the patience or time to get to buzzed, let alone wasted. 

Stumbling and tripping over your heels and words, the world is vibrant and bright but also a little hazy—like watching it through a thin, shimmering layer of fog—and loose-lipped, giggly, wasted.

Curled up in a booth with your normal, non-supe friends and whispering about nothing wasted. The room is spinning and turning but you’re too engrossed in how funny the word squirrels sounds wasted. One of your friends always keeping a hand on your shoulder, or an arm around your body, because one wrong ditzy smile or mention of him, and you’ll start to float upwards fucking wasted.

And they know that.

And you’d been really drunk. It was the weekend, and it was a celebration of something—you didn’t really remember what—and you’d been so fucking drunk, so when one of your friends asked how’s Ben with a teasing grin, you’d almost ascended just from the sound of his name.

You think you said he was perfect. Actually, you know you said he was perfect. Despite the entire night being hidden behind a shifting curtain of your drunken brain, you know exactly what you’d said about Ben, word for word.

Because it’s printed on the front page of the news. A massive quote of Soldier Boy settles down with B-list Hero? In big, black letters, accompanied by a very handsome picture of Ben, and a smaller, poorly lit photo of you. 

An inside source tells us that, last night in uptown Manhattan, Vought’s own second list super-heroine Hurricane revealed that she and Soldier Boy have been going steady for over a year, and proved herself to be quite smitten with American’s Son. 

You’d always hated that title for him. Ben was not America’s Son. He was more in line with America’s very grumpy father, and you were not a second list hero. You had the third highest save rate, and you’d only been at Vought for two years. You’d caught up with everyone in the first three months, and surpassed the rest by the end of the summer. You’d been warring back and forth with Liberty—the snide, conniving, weirdly possessive over Ben and hateful bitch—for second place for about a year now.

If fact, if you counted non-criminal saves—aiding people with their daily troubles, helping people who were in crisis, offering aid to charities and foundations—you were only a dozen or so behind Ben.

He says that’s why he noticed you. He says he’d seen how close you were creeping up behind him after only a year, how fast the gap between him and second place was closing, and he’d been furious but intrigued. Then he’d always say that he went to find you to snap that you should calm the fuck down and stop acting like you own this place, but you’d been so damn beautiful he’d forgotten how to breathe. 

“I’d known you’d be mine right fucking there.” He’d grumble, his lips latched to your neck and his arms caging you against the wall. “I see a lot of hot fucking women, baby, but you’re the only one who’s made me look twice.”

You’d always giggle, run your hands through his hair, and try not smile like too much of an idiot into the air. “You know, you can’t be positive I didn’t just steal the air out of your lung on-“

Ben would swallow your words with a deep, rough kiss, shove his knee between your thighs, and chuckle at your high whine.

“I’m real damn sure,” he’d grunt your name, guiding you to grind against him as he spoke. “Because that shit doesn’t work on me, doll, and you fucking know it.”

“I-“ You’d gasp, pulling at his hair and squirming in his grip. “You’re getting cocky again-“

“You fucking love it.”

God, you did. You loved him. He’s full of shit, and you know he’s full of shit—he hadn’t been awestruck by you, he’d marched up to you, told you that you were a fucking problem, and then walked away—but you don’t love him any less for it. If anything, you love him more. He’s honest. You’ve never seen him be anything but himself, and it was a little like a sanctuary. Ben would tell you if you were being dramatic about something if you were in the wrong, or he’d threaten to chop off the balls of whoever had hurt you with such a violent fervor in his eyes if he knew you were right.

You feel bad a little for whoever one day pisses you off enough to let Ben loose on them. 

He’d make sure your ideas were heard and implemented, when nobody was listening to you, then point at you when someone congratulated him on it and snap it was her fucking idea, you pussy-faced cock gobbler. Thank the lady then keep fucking working.

He’d bring you silent gifts every time he stepped over the threshold of your apartment. He’d fuck you like an animal in your bedroom, then hold you in the dark like you were something priceless. He’d put a hand on your thigh under the table, when meetings got too heated and you were in danger of quite literally flying at some dumbass who thought he was smarter than you.

And he did keep you secret, but you’d never protested. It had been your idea to begin with, and maybe you’d expected him to one day grunt at you that this dumb fucking secret shit is over, you’re my date to the movie tomorrow night, but he never had.

You’d go to all the red carpets separately, he’d track you down in the bathroom and fuck you on the sink—muttering low, dirty praise about how good you were taking him, how everyone was going to be able to fucking smell his cum filling you up, how you looked so fucking gorgeous in that dress and you were trying to damn kill him—before you parted ways and acted like co-workers for the rest of the night, right up until he showed up at your apartment as the after party settled down.

And you could’ve had him like that for a million years. If it was all he could give you, you’d take it and worship it and never try to make him more than he was. He was already, arguably, too much. But he was yours. He didn’t fuck other women—he hardly even looked at them—and it had never mattered what the vultures of the press said, you’d known Ben was yours, and that was all that mattered.

But now you’re staring at the paper, re-reading the article over and over like the words could suddenly change and nothing would be wrong, and for the first time, you’re afraid.

Not of Ben. Never of Ben. 

Of how you’re going to lose him. 

Because you’d been explicit. Vulgar. Incredibly detailed in ways you never were while sober.

Hurricane described in great deal her alleged sex life with the Golden Hero, claiming him to be a firm but generous lover, using a multitude of words not suited for publication. Our source details how she’d claimed that she reaches climax about “four times a night,” and that she wants to “marry his and have all his stupid, giant babies.” Multiple times throughout the conversation, Hurricane called Solider Boy the “best thing that ever happened to her,” and said she’d “jump off a cliff if he asked her to.”

If these claims are true, should the public prepare for an upcoming great American wedding? Or is Hurricane speaking of a one-sided obsession? Solider Boy has rarely been seen in public with the air-powered supe, and there is no evidence but her alleged word that they are anything more than co-workers. If Hurricane is lying-

You have to stop reading there, or you might choke on your own spit and fear. You’re not lying. It’s not alleged, it’s real and you meant every word of it, but Ben wasn’t supposed to know that. He was supposed to take the lead about where you went, and you were supposed to trail in his wake, admiring the way his skin seemed to sometimes be golden, and bask in how when he looked at you there seemed be something flaring and catching light in his eyes that was never there for anyone else.

You mean something to him. You know he sees you as more than a body. Ben calls you his girl, and his jaw twitches when a Vought suit or lower-level hero tries to flirt with you, and he has all the money in the world but he touches you like you’re the most valuable thing in his life.

You’re not sure how you’re going to face this. You have to face this—it’s the front fucking page, and it’s a mess, and you’re solely responsible—but you don’t want to. You want to fly up to space and never come down, or sink into the floor, or seal all the doors and windows and never leave.

And you know none of that would work. Ben would launch himself after you and you’d slam into his gravity because you didn’t know how not to. He’d pull you up from your self-inflicted grave without breaking a sweat. He’d kick and pry the doors open no matter how tight you sealed them, crashing into your apartment with an animalistic look in his eyes, his arms flexing and attention all on you, before picking you up and cradling you without a word because he was bad at them, but he did care. 

Ben really did care.

And you can’t face him.

But you have to go to work.

And you hope you’ll just vanish off the face of the earth before you can enter the building, but the universe doesn’t seem to like you all that much today, so instead you’re barely a foot through the door before Legend his standing in front of you, brows raised and voice firm.

“Hurricane.”

“I, uh,” You swallow. “Yeah. Hi.”

His face doesn’t even move an inch. “I believe we need to talk, girl.”

“Do we?” Your voice is barely a squeak, and you really wish everyone would stop fucking looking at you. “I don’t- um- Look, I swear I didn’t-“

“My office.” Legend snaps. “Now.”

All you can do is nod and shuffle behind him, feeling a little like a child in trouble. You can feel all their eyes, almost hear the judgmental expressions and thoughts, the bitter and withering fears you’d been harboring in your chest since Ben asked you out—although it was more like he said you were smoking hot and he wanted to fuck you, you’d told him he’d need to try harder than that, and then the next day he’d shown up with more roses than you could hold in your hands and said you were hot, and interesting, and he wanted to fuck you put he wasn’t going to do it until you were begging him for it—coming to life in a loud and suffocating cloud around you.

You know he’s out of your league. Ben’s out of everyone’s league. He’s more than a god, he’s something primordial that crawled out of the earth just to guard it with his whole fucking existence.

And when you sit in Legend’s office, it feels even more certain that this is the end of more than just the love of your life. It’s so drastic, how much higher and better Ben is than you are, that there’s no way they’ll allow you to just say he’s yours. The public would never want him to be yours, because they can see it too. Everyone can see how unworthy you are-

“You get three minute to explain yourself.” Legend mutters, settling in his big, velvet chair, spinning a pen in his hands.  “But you better have a top of the line reason for fucking around and claimin’ all that, or we’re going to be revisiting your tenure here. Go.”

Every breath you take is thin in your lungs. You need to speak, but no words are coming out. His chair is a throne, and the pen is an executioner’s axe, and you whole life is on a thread that depends on you speaking, but you can’t-

“I-“

There’s a crashing sound outside, a roar that sound like a lion or dragon or avenging angel, and Legend looks away from you with a shocked expression—which for him, means genuine interest flashing in his gaze and a twitch near his eyes—as Ben crashes through the door.

“Mr. Solider Boy, sir-“ Legend’s receptionist is scrambling behind him, her voice high and frantic. “You- He’s in a meeting- You’re not supposed-“

“Shut the fuck up, Mary.” Ben grunts, and the receptionist’s snaps closed. You mouth think she’s shocked he knows her name. “And close the damn door, Legend and I need to have a fucking chat.”

You swallow, starting to push to your feet, but Ben’s faster. His hands grasp your shoulders, pushing you back down into your chair, and they rest there as he glowers at Legend.

“Ben,” Legend sighs. “I told you we’d be meeting later-“

“And I told you there’s no way you’re talking to my girl without me there,” Ben hisses, his hands squeezing on your shoulders, and you’re a little dizzy.

His girl. 

Not a secret, but still Ben’s girl.

And suddenly nothing really feels all that faraway or terrifying at all. 

“I understand this is distressing for all of us-“

“Oh, fuck off and eat my fucking ass,” Ben rolls his eyes, leaning slightly over your body as he leers at Legend. He’s really warm. “You don’t know what in goddamn Christ you’re talking about, Legend, and you’re being a pussy fucking idiot-“

“Ben-“

“I said fuck off.” He growls your name, and it’s not at you. It’s like a wolf snarling and snapping at a threat to their pack. “She didn’t do a goddamn thing wrong, and you’re going to make her give herself a fucking aneurysm, so calm the fuck down and listen when I tell you to just fucking drop it, or I’ll carve your brain out of your skull and fucking feed it to you.”

Legend doesn’t flinch. He only tilts his head, scanning over Ben with an odd expression. “What have you been offered, Solider Boy, to defend her-“

Ben scoffs. “I can’t be fucking bribed, you dick-headed asswhore, I goddamn love this woman-“

It hits you like a freight train. Explosive and fast and brutal, irreversibly changing everything in your body until it all just a crumpled pile of Ben.

“You-“ Your voice is hoarse, and you lean back to look at him with wide eyes. “You love me?“

“Of course I fucking love you, shut up and-“ he grabs your hand, pinning it to the chair. The world had gotten so light, and you’d started to float, and Ben was keeping you there. With him. And he loved you. “Don’t lose your damn mind. Let me save your fucking job-“

“I love you too,” you whisper, and that manages to air its way through his fury.

“I know that. Stop flying.” Ben turns back to Legend, and you think he’s somehow taller. “You fire her, you lose me.” 

That makes Legend’s face twitch again, and his eyes dart to you for only a second. You’ve seen that expression before, during meetings or negotiations that weren’t quite going his way.

He weighing his options. Trying to work out if Ben is bluffing.

Legend should know better.

Ben doesn’t bluff.

His hand still squeezing with carefully measured pressure on your shoulder, and his gaze is firm, and he’s not a liar. Ben has many, many vices—fractured and chipped and defunct parts of him you love just as much as the shining titanium that makes up the rest of him—but lying is not one of them.

If anything, Ben only ever doubles down.

“Don’t be a damn idiot,” he drawls, his words casual but his gaze on Legend a silent promise of violence. “The people fucking love it. They love her. She scores higher points with younger demos, and America loves love. They’ll love us. so I don’t know why you’re being such a pussy-brained motherfucker, but she is the best goddamn thing to happen to this company in fucking years.”

You think you’re going to ascend. That all the dizzying light and joy that Ben always silently plants in your body is going into bloom and rocketing up to the sun with his every word, and you have no choice but to rise up to that high, clouded but bright heaven with them. It’s a place born of Ben’s love. It hazy, pastel clouds, but they’re sturdier and more certain than anything else has ever been. You could build something here, known it would never crumble because Ben really, truly loves you. Even Legend’s skeptical expression and cool words can’t drag you down from down this.

And what they trigger only launches you further upwards. 

“They’ll have to actually believe it,” Legend snips. “If we are going to allow this-“ 

Ben’s hand glide over your throat to grab your chin, he tips your head back, and kisses you. Deep and rough and heavy. The type of kiss he’s only ever given you behind a locked door, where he’s folding himself over you and invading your every sense, because now you’re pliant and moaning, and everything is Ben. Reaching up to try and tug on his hair and urge him further, grabbing his forearm for balance despite sitting down, making a strangled sound that’s meant to be his name when he presses his tongue down your throat-

He pulls back, presses a smaller, dangerously sweet kiss to your brow, and looks back to Legend. 

“That fucking believable enough?” 

You’d like to see Legend’s expression, but your gaze is trapped on Ben. His hand is still on your chin, grip relaxed as his thumb trails over your lower lip—you’re not sure he knows he’s doing that—and you can see the exact place on his jaw that you want to try and suck a mark on, even if it’s never worked before. His brows are raised in a challenging question as he stares down Legend, and his hair looks soft, and when he licks his lips slightly it sets off a million little sparks in your lower stomach-

“Ben.” You whisper, and he looks down at you with a frown. 

“Wha-“

“Please.” You squeeze his arm, and he tenses behind you. “I- Please.”

A smirk creeps over his lips, and you think someone coughs, but they’re not Ben so it doesn’t really matter. 

“You need me right now, sweet girl? Can’t even fucking wait, need me to fucking ruin you in the goddamn office-“

“I- You-” you squirm in your chair, reaching up to try and tug him back down to your level. “Stop being mean-“

He chuckles, but doesn’t move an inch. “You know I’m not being mean. You’ve seen me be fucking mean,” he drawls your name, and if he doesn’t move soon, you’re going to explode. “I’m just waiting for you to beg me fucking properly-“

“Please, Ben, please-“

“Please what.”

You’re past dignity, or trying to spar back and forth with him on this. He said he loves you. He said it, then kissed you like that, and nothing in the world is more important than feeling him all around you and over you and in you-

“Fuck me, Ben, please-“

There’s that same cough again, but you don’t really hear it. You can’t really hear anything but your heartbeat in your ears as Ben’s face splits into a wide, almost feral grin, and you won.

He slams his mouth back down to yours, grabbing you by the waist in a second and hauling you up to his chest—your legs wrapped around his torso as you shamelessly grind onto his stomach—and holding you there as his kiss turns starved and brutal, like he hasn’t done this almost every night for the past year.

You’re not complaining. With just his mouth almost molded into yours, one hand fisted in your hair while the other holds you steady against his body, and grunts that you can feel vibrate in his chest, you’re wrecked and whimpering in his arms. You need more. He’s everywhere but it’s not enough, and you’re aching and burning under his touch but it’s not enough-

Ben breaks the kiss when you start to scratch at his shoulders, and you take a ragged, sudden breath. You’d forgotten you needed to breathe, and the rush of air is sending you so high-

He starts to attack your neck and shoulders, tugging at your supe costume to continue his dizzying assault on your skin, and you wrap your arms around his neck in desperate attempt to not fly out of his hold. Ben’s own grip tightens in response—he knows how close you are, just from his kiss and touch, he always knows so you so well—and you squeak his name when he bites at your neck-

“Alright. I got it.” Someone’s talking that’s not Ben. Legend. You’d forgotten he existed at all. “It’s not fake, you’ll be dating, fine. You two can stop now-“

“Get out of my office.” Ben grunts, and Legend sighs.

“We’ve been over this, Soldier Boy, it’s not your-“

Ben pushes you down on the desk, rips off your shirt, starts to kiss over your breast with a possessive growl that sends a shiver up your spine, and Legend groans.

“Fine.” You’re vaguely aware of something shuffling around, but Ben’s rubbing a thumb over your nipples through your bra, and you’re incredibly focused on just holding on. “No messes.”

Neither of you make any promises, and you don’t think no messes is possible. Not as Ben shoves his hand into your panties the moment the door closes, tearing off your bra and lowering his mouth to suck and bite along your breasts.

“I-“ You gasp, your hands shooting to grip at his hair when two rough fingers shove right into your cunt, starting to pump in a smooth, unyielding rhythm. “God, fuck-“

“Say my name, baby,” he grunts, flicking his tongue over a nipple, working you into a frenzy as his fingers bump that deep spot and crook against it- “Say my fucking name and I’ll ruin you like you fucking deserve-“

“Please-“ You squeak as his thumb finds your clit, just pressing as he starts to kiss down your stomach. “Ben, please-“

“There she goes.” Ben nips at your stomach as he lowers himself further, an arm wrapping around your waist to pin you down when the remainder of your clothing is torn from your body and his fingers still, leaving you grinding hopelessly against his hand and gasping for air as a warm breeze picks up in the room. “Want my cock, sweetheart? Going to fucking beg for it like the pretty little slut you are, so fucking needy-“

“I’m-“ You gasp as he bites at your inner thigh, and you can feel his grip tighten again as your hair starts to float around your head. “Just for you, Ben, just need you, please-“

“Such good manners,” he drawls, pressing one, mockingly sweet kiss to your clit as he shoves your knees further apart. “So fucking wet, too. Anyone else get you like this, sweet girl-“

You shake your head, bucking your hips up into the air. “No- Never anyone else, just you-“

“That’s fucking right.” He growls, his thumb pressing to your clit, his breath warm over your cunt. “You’re all fucking mine-“

“Yours,” you gasp. “Ben, please-“

He rises back up, pinching your clit as his mouth crashes back into yours and groaning your name when you writhe against him. 

“Christ on a fucking cross, baby-“

“Ben-“ Your snake your hand between when his body is wrapped over yours, palming at him through his pants. “More, need more-“

“Always fucking give you more,” he grunts, pulling your hair until your head tips further back with a whine. “Need to wait, use those pretty fucking manners-“

He cuts himself off with a groan as the wind starts to tear through the room, and you shove your hand into his pants, wrapping your hand around his dick and stroking it until his hips rut up into you-

Ben catches your wrist, and before you know what’s happening you’re flat on your back, your hands pinned over your head and Ben’s face hovering inches over yours.

“I said fucking wait.” He hisses, and you swallow. “You pull that shit and I’m going to blow all that cum you love so much on your fucking hand. Is that what you want?”

You shake your head, grinding up into where you can feel him, pressed right on your inner thigh.

“Words-“

“No.” Your words are breathy and desperate, and you don’t care. “Ben-“

“What do you want?” His tone is mocking, a smirk pulling at his lips, and God, he’s such an asshole but you fucking love him- 

“You, want you, Ben-“

He hums, dropping the full weight of his hips over yours and chuckling at your high whine when the head of his cock bumps at your clit. “What do you want me to do-“

“Fuck me,” there’s no hesitation in your voice. With Ben, there never is. “Want your cock, Ben, please-“

It’s all he needs. Ben slams into you with one movement, but doesn’t move. He just splits you open beneath his and grins at your dazed expression, the head of him pressed right on that spot and fuck, he needs to move-

“Need a second, pretty girl?”

“I- move-“ You squeeze around him, pride glowing in your chest at the low, rumbling groan it draws from his chest. “Ben-“

He gives one rough thrust, pulling all the way out before slamming back in, and you let out a high, strangled sound of need.

“Say you’re mine.” He growls, repeating the movement, a little faster. “Tell me who fucks you this good, who you fucking love, who makes you a cockdrunk, needy little slut-“

He’s makes another thrust with every demand, and the euphoria of Ben all around and in you is like a truth serum. If you wanted to lie, you couldn’t. 

This feels too fucking good.

“Yours Ben, I’m yours, it’s only you,” you gasp as he bruises against that one spot, his mouth diving down to suck at your neck. “Always you, just you, I love you, please-“

That snaps him. Ben starts to fuck you, really, properly fuck you, your hands still trapped above you and his cock bruising your cervix as he hammers into your dripping cunt, letting your scratch and claw at his broad, muscled back and whine his name as his balls slap on your ass and his free hand plays with your tits until you’re writhing and gasping below him-

“Fucking mine.” He grunts, his thrusts never breaking pace as you hurl towards release. “So fucking desperate for me, baby, nobody’s gonna fuck you like I do, fucking love you, love this pretty fucking pussy, such a good girl for me, squeezing my cock so fucking tight-“

You make a strangled sound that’s supposed to be his name, and Ben swallows it with his mouth over yours.  

“Need to cum in you, baby,” he growls down your throat, his hand gliding your body to rest over your throat. “Need to fucking fill you up, let everyone know you’re fucking mine-“

You nod a little stupidly, a white-hot coil wound so tight in your stomach, so close to snapping-

Ben pushes up off of you, reaching an inhuman, abusing and perfect pace in your cunt, and right as the coil burst like starlight through your body, he squeezes his hand around your throat with just the right amount of pressure to drag the mind-numbing pleasure on and on, letting you ride your orgasm as he roars your name and comes with one last slam of his hips.

He tugs you back to his chest as you both come down, knowing far better than you let your body go when you’re still light-headed and drunk on how warm you feel. Full of Ben and used by him in the best possible way, and he loves you, he’s said it two times now and that’s real.

Ben drags two fingers through your dripping, still fluttering pussy, stuffing his cum back inside of you—a tiny ritual he always seems to do for himself, because you’re on the pill but he always glows with pride after, so you let him indulge—as he kisses over your collarbone, and you bury your face in his neck with an easy hum.

“Are you,” you sigh, clinging to his body like a baby as his rubs firm circles over your back. “Were you serious?”

You can hear the frown in his voice. “I’m always fucking serious-“

“I know, I just mean-“ You sigh, leaning back to scan over his handsome, solid features. “About us. Are we- Is this public now?”

His jaw clenches slightly. “You’re the one who was calling me the best thing that ever happened to you-“

“I- you are, I just want to be sure you’re sure-“

“I’ve been sure since I fucking saw you,” Ben says your name, his voice firm, and you just stare at him. “The secret shit was your idea, and I’d move a fucking mountain for you, so I did it, but it’s always been fucking dumb as shit.”

“Oh.” You swallow, offering him a small smile. “Sorry.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up. We’re public, sweetheart, and every single fucking pussy in the world is going to know you’re mine.”

“Good,” you hum, resting your head back on his shoulder. “You’re mine too, you know.”

“I’m damn well aware.” Ben kisses the side of your head, tracing a hand up your spine. “All fucking yours.”

End Note: I never have more fun than coming up with Soldier Boy insults. Channeling all the swearing I can't do at work into this.

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[rauspberries]

The Dinner | A.H

lawyer!aaron hotchner x paralegal!reader.

summary: at a party you don't fit into, you run into the one person you don't want to see. luckily, your hot boss is totally okay to play along, and take care of you afterwards. tags/warnings: afab reader, no use of y/n or description of reader [other than wearing a dress], more hidden flirting and tension, protective & dreamy aaron hotchner, slight age gap, mentions of a narcissistic ex-boyfriend and gross men, mentions of alcohol and drinking, word count: 4.2k notes: I LOVE IT HERE i actually had so much fun writing this

You don’t know why you agreed to come to this stupid thing.

Usually, you thrived at parties. You wore something that made you desirable, you floated through a room instead of walking, you held a dazzling smile and you attracted the eyes of everyone you wanted to. You enjoyed parties so much that you tended to be the host of them, or at least the person that people went to when they needed something.

But parties like this, filled with lawyers and district attorneys and firm owners, were exhausting. Lawyers, usually men, were arrogant, to the point that it was suffocating. They believed they dominated the world the same way they owned the courtroom, that they were the most convincing batch of people in the world just because they could win a case or two. Being a woman in a room full of drunk male lawyers was not your definition of a fun Friday night.

Glancing around the room, your eyes catch on the reason you were here just as you bring your vodka soda to your lips. The prosecutor you had come to enjoy the presence of was talking with one of the district attorneys, no emotions reflected on his face as he spoke, large hands wrapped around a glass. He looked delectable in a perfectly tailored dark suit, the top button of the navy blue button-up undone and no tie in sight. It was the closest you’d get to seeing him dressed down without ambushing him outside of work.

Aaron had come into your office on his way out the day before, repeating the same routine he had suddenly developed, his suit jacket draped over his arm. In the same nonchalant tone he usually kept, he had asked you if you were planning on going to the party. You had heard about it around the firm, but you had assumed it was for associates and partners only. Paralegals didn’t often get invited to parties, being the small fish in the pond of lawyers. Plus, you didn’t like conversing with lawyers longer than you needed to – unless they were Aaron, of course. 

And because you couldn’t help yourself, because you couldn’t say no to him, you smiled at him and told him you’d go. Then, you had kicked yourself mentally as soon as he had left, knowing everything you’d have to do to prepare yourself. A new outfit, a good mental peptalk to hype yourself up, and a shot before you enter the door for good luck.

You’re interrupted from shamelessly ogling your boss by a familiar booming laugh, your gaze immediately darting over to a group of men. They’re all fondling a glass of some sort of dark liquor, ranging from whiskey to scotch to bourbon. Your heart rate picks up as you glance at each of the faces, body stiffening at the sight of a familiar one.

Back when you were newly a paralegal, before you had been introduced to the rules behind the politics of being beneath lawyers in the corporate food chain, you had made a stupid mistake – you had dated one. 

Michael had been a good man, buying you gifts and taking you out on lavish dates you’d never be able to afford on your own, until you had had a chance to look back on him. Slowly, you had become more of a trophy to him rather than a loving girlfriend. He had carted you around to parties just like this, hand curled around your waist like he was afraid you’d drift away, slipping in comments about how you were just a paralegal, how you were fighting to become a lawyer, like you hadn’t been working your damn hardest to balance a new job, its workload and all of your classes as well.

Your break-up hadn’t been amicable, or even neutral. It had been a two-hour long argument, screaming until your throat hurt, each scalding insult out of his mouth piercing directly into your ego. After him, you had put your foot down about dating lawyers, especially young ones with a lot to prove. Since your break-up slash fight, you had managed to avoid him pretty well – until now. 

Immediately, you’re spinning around to aim your back towards him, only to come face-first with Aaron’s chest. Despite the heels you had purchased just for this event, he still towers over you, your chin having to tilt up to catch his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asks, the low baritone washing over you like a wave. Despite the gentleness of the question, his face doesn’t change, oddly calm. You notice that his gaze is still sharp and focused, not as dazed as some of the other prosecutors surrounding the two of you. Glancing down, you also note that the single ice cube in his scotch had melted, and the drink was only halfway downed. He hadn’t been drinking, just socializing. That was good.

Shaking your head, you hold your drink closer to your chest. ‘Uhm, yeah. Fine.” You clear your throat before bringing your glass back up to your lips, downing what’s left of it before placing the empty glass on the table behind you. “Just don’t have much in common with people here.”

“You’re working to become a lawyer and you don’t have anything in common with other lawyers?” He questions, tone amused. You don’t miss the small tilt at the corner of his lips, or the crease at the corner of his eyes, the small little things that made up his amusement.

Huffing, you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not men. All the men here probably see me as a glorified assistant. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them call me sugar and ask me to get them another drink.” You can’t help the slight scorn that seeps into your tone, leaning back against the table behind you and letting your eyes land on Michael again.

Aaron notices the change in your body language, his eyes following yours to look for what’s distracting you. “Who’s he?” His head tilts towards the group of lawyers before he’s glancing back at you, sipping at the scotch in his hand.

“What?” You question, too fast for your own liking, pulling your lips into your mouth in an attempt to keep you from rambling nervously. At the slightest quirk of his brow, you’re crumbling, deciding that he’d pick apart your lie more and more the more you tried to keep it up. “My ex-boyfriend. Dated him back when I was too stupid to know better.”

He lets out a huff of a laugh, sidling up beside you and letting his arm brush against yours. “Didn’t end well, I assume?” 

One glance up at him, you try to fight the smile that threatens to cross your lips. Rather than trying to avoid confrontation, he’s doing the exact opposite of what you’d do, his dark eyes zeroing in on the young lawyer that was still somehow oblivious to the death glare currently directed towards him. With Aaron standing beside you, you feel more confident, like he’d protect you if anything happened.

Before you have the chance to respond to the prosecutor’s question, Michael’s eyes finally catch yours. You note the furrow in his brow before his eyes light up, dread pooling in your stomach as you watch him excuse himself from his current conversation, immediately making his way towards you. If you weren’t too focused on shooting daggers at him, you’d have noticed the way Aaron slowly moved closer to you, until his entire arm was pressed up against yours while his free hand set his drink down.

Michael calls your name as he gets closer, like he’s unaware of the fact that your entire attention has been focused on him for the past couple of minutes. He has the flushed look to his cheeks that tell you he’s already drunk, his hair mussed on top of his head from running his hands through it. He looks happy to see you, which couldn’t be anything but a problem.

“What are you doing here? Become a lawyer yet?” It’s meant to be demeaning, although it's masked by amusement as his hand comes up to brush against your shoulder. You tense up at the touch, causing him to immediately pull his hand back. He recovers quickly when you don’t respond, his attention turning to Aaron. “Hi. I’m Michael, but many people around here call me Mike. Nice to meet you.”

Aaron glances down at his hand, however he doesn’t make any move to shake his hand. Instead, you’re surprised by the feeling of his fingertips skirting along the small of your back, moving until his hand completely curls around your hip. The touch is light at first, testing to see how you reacted, before it finally settles like a dead weight. “Aaron Hotchner. I’m a prosecutor.” He introduces himself, still eerily calm, even if you’re sure he can hear your racing heartbeat from where he stands.

From how close you are, from how close he’s slightly pulled you from his hold on your hip, you can smell his cologne. It’s manly, spicy, like bergamot. Usually, colognes were overwhelming, suffocating. Here, in his warm touch, it’s comforting. 

Michael’s eyes flicker down to the hand on your hip before back up to his face. He’s completely ignoring you, instead attempting to suck up to the man beside you for his political benefit, even if Aaron is obviously dismissing him. You want to laugh in his face, but you decide that taking the high ground is better.

“Oh, yeah. You worked on the Williamson case recently, right? It was all over the papers, your win. Man, I’d love to hear more about it.” He’s practically slobbering as he looks up at the prosecutor, eyes wide as saucers. It makes you nauseated to think that you were every romantically interested in the man.

Aaron must’ve noticed the way your eyes glazed over in boredom, fingertips pressing into your hip bone as he gives you a soft squeeze. “You said it yourself, it was all over the papers. Feel free to read up and send an email to my paralegal if you want any information.” He glances down at you for a moment before back up at the man in front of you. “Actually, please don’t contact my paralegal, or me.”

And then, with a soft ‘excuse me,’ he tightens his hold on your hip, urging you away from Michael. Unable to resist the urge, your lips pull up into a flattering smile as you glance at your ex-boyfriend for one last time, tongue dragging over your top teeth before you step away with the prosecutor. 

Once you’re out of earshot, you murmur softly. “What was that?” You muse, glancing up at him.

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” He responds nonchalantly, finally letting his hand fall and bringing it back to his side once you sidle up to the open bar. Tapping the counter, he orders you another drink, handing it over to you without a word about it. 

For a moment, you wonder if he’s flirting with you. You let the thought consume you for just a moment as you pull the drink closer, enjoying the cooling sensation of the condensation against your skin as you take a long drink, before you push it away. Aaron is distinguished, mature. He wouldn’t go for the young paralegal with nothing but silly little relationships under their belt.

After you’ve nursed the drink for a while, feeling small underneath the focused gaze of him, he stands up straight, hand finding your back again. It’s a habit of his now, you assume, to lead you around with a gentle touch. However, unlike how it had been with Michael, you didn’t feel like a trophy to him. It was a hold meant to steer you, not a hold meant to control you. You know that if you pushed him away, he’d back off without a second thought. “Come on. We’re gonna introduce you to some of the good lawyers. As a smart paralegal, not as the woman I happened to have my hand on.”

And so he did. For the next couple of hours, Aaron leads you around, introducing you as his favorite paralegal. The compliments that spew from him towards the people around you keeps your cheeks warm all night, constantly keeping your drink full to try and let yourself loosen up beneath his praise. Unfortunately, your attempt at calming yourself only gets you as drunk as the men around you, although you’re easily more controlled than they are.

By the time everyone starts leaving, you need a cab. Aaron lets you hold onto his bicep with a tight grip as he leads you outside, still the face of utmost patience and calm as he helps you down the steps in front of the building. You lean into him as the cool air brushes across your heated skin, taking a deep inhale.

“You’ve been so nice to me, all night.” You babble, letting yourself fully lean into him and enjoy the warmth of his body through his suit jacket. Almost like he senses it, he leans away from you just enough to pull it off, draping it over your shoulders before wrapping his arm around you again. “See? Like that. You’re just so nice.”

His chest rumbles against your shoulder as he leads you down the sidewalk, eyes flickering to your face before your surroundings. “I’m doing the bare minimum. If you believe this is the nicest thing someone can do for you, I’m worried.” He’s amused, you can tell by the lilt of his voice.

With a huff, you push at his chest, although his hold on you makes it so he doesn’t move far. “You know what I mean, Hotchner. You keep doing nice things for me. Like that thing with Michael. And introducing me to all of those lawyers. That could help my career, you know.” Suddenly, you gasp, stopping your feet so fast that he has to hold you up from falling on your face. “Are you trying to make me leave the firm?”

“I’m sorry?” He moves to stand in front of you, hands sliding down to grab your hips to steady you on your heels, which make you realize just how much your feet and ankles ache. 

Placing a hand on his chest, you push into him to keep yourself steady as you raise your foot, fingers digging into the heel of your shoe to pull it off. “You kept introducing me to a bunch of other prosecutors and lawyers and singing my praises. It sounds like you’re trying to pawn me off to some other attorney.” Your voice slowly trails off into a grumble as you peel off your shoe, immediately moving over to your other one.

Aaron lets out a soft sigh as he watches you remove your shoes, nose wrinkling slightly as your bare feet touch the sidewalk. Before you can speak again, he’s sliding your bag off of your shoulder, hoisting it up on his own. In one swift move, he’s crouching down, one arm sweeping beneath your legs and the other bracing your back as he lifts you up. A soft squeak leaves your lips as you’re suddenly lifted off the ground, one hand holding at the back of his neck for some type of stability. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m not letting you put your bare feet on the sidewalk. In this weather, you’ll catch a cold.” He responds easily, hands warm against the exposed skin of your lower thigh as he continues your walk. “Is it alright if I drive you home?”

Sighing, you pull your hand back towards your chest and lean your cheek against his shoulder, eyes fluttering as you fight the tiredness. “If it gets me to my bed faster, sure.” Suddenly, your eyelids pop open again, glancing up at his face. “You never answered my question. Are you trying to pawn me off to the highest bidder?”

Aaron’s quiet as he makes his way to his car, only speaking once he gets to the passenger side door. “Reach into the left pocket of my suit jacket and unlock the car, please.” He instructs, looking down at you.

“Answer my question.” You retort stubbornly, lips pulling down in a tight frown, bottom lip pushing out in a pout.

Rolling his eyes, he’s suddenly moving you in his arms, placing you down to sit on the hood of his car. One hand stays on your hip to keep you perched there while the other digs into the pocket of the jacket covering your shoulders, pulling out the keys himself as he stares directly into your eye. He unlocks the car as your pout deepens, opening the passenger side door before picking you up again.

He places you on the seat gently, laying your shoes and your bag at your feet so you didn’t lose them. Slender fingers grab your seatbelt before he’s leaning over you, cologne wafting over you again as he clicks the seatbelt into place. Rather than immediately pull back, he turns his head to look at you, face so close to yours that you can smell the remnants of his one scotch on his breath. 

“I am not trying to get you to go to a law firm, or another district attorney’s office. I would like to keep you around for as long as possible, if I can.” His hand reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face, fingertips brushing against your cheekbone and short-circuiting your drunk brain long enough for him to be able to pull his upper body out of the car.

The passenger side door shuts before you can say anything, leaving you in silence as you try to wrap your head around just exactly what’s happening. Unfortunately, you come up with nothing, especially since your last drink is just now settling in and everything is growing fuzzier by the moment.

As soon as Aaron’s in the car, he starts the engine, turning on the heat and reaching over to adjust your vents. “Let me know if you need me to roll down the window.” He murmurs, taking one last once-over of your face to make sure you were okay before turning his gaze back to his mirrors and windows.

You want to take this time to talk to him, to ask questions and enjoy the presence of him outside the office. Despite your drunkenness, you are still rational, but he doesn’t have to know that. You could say whatever you wanted, blame it on the drinks if it backfired. Unfortunately, you’re too tired to come up with anything to say, leaning your head against the car door and letting yourself drift off to sleep.

You’re awoken what feels like ages later by a warm nudge on your knee, eyelids peeling open to see Aaron’s large hand on it. Licking your lips to try and solve your drymouth, you turn your head to look at him, softening under his gentle eyes. “Hi. Are we at my home?”

He chuckles softly, thumb brushing against the side of your kneecap before he sits up, removing his hand and leaving you cold. “You fell asleep before I could ask your address, so I brought you back to my apartment. Is that okay?”

Sitting up, you run your fingers through your hair, praying that your make-up hasn’t smeared too much and you don’t look as dishelved as you feel. “As long as there’s somewhere for me to sleep and a glass of water.”

“Lucky for you, I have both.” With a flash of a smile your way, he turns off the car, immediately opening his door. In a moment, he’s at your door, opening it. Your head finds his shoulder again as he picks you up, abandoning your shoes in the floorboards as he shuts the passenger door. 

He has you inside his apartment before you can even register that you’ve moved, setting you back down on your feet and tugging down the hem of your dress to keep you covered. While he locks the door and sets down his keys in the tray next to it, you take the moment to look around, the hardwood cold against your feet. “Your apartment is very… boring.”

He snorts in amusement from behind you, gentle hands pushing your hair to the side so that he could pull his suit jacket off of your shoulders. Noticing your shiver once the cool air hits you, he tosses it to the side, running his warm hands over your exposed skin. The front of his thighs nudge you forward as his hands slide down to your hips, urging you towards the couch and directing you to sit down. “Good thing it’s not a hotel, then.”

“Zero stars.” You agree, curling into yourself as you settle down into the crook where the arm of the couch met the back of it. “It's freezing in here.” 

Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, he drapes it over your lap, both covering the expanse of thigh revealed by sitting down and warming you up. “I’ll grab you some clothes that’ll warm you up,” he responds briskly.. “Did you have any other complaints, princess?” He taunts, a smile pulling at his lips as he stands up straight, placing his hands on his hips..

You copy his grin, tilting your head to the side innocently. “The fact that you haven’t called me that before is quite a shame.”

He makes it apparent that he doesn’t take you seriously, his eyes rolling dramatically before he turns around, disappearing into one of the rooms off of the living room. He returns just a moment later, handing you a stack of clothes. “Shirt, sweatpants and some socks. The bathroom is just there.” He points to a shut door.

Nodding, you slowly stand up, making a show of pulling your dress down for yourself before grabbing the clothes out of his hand. You’re steadier on your feet now as you make your way towards the bathroom, giving him a brave and flirty smile as you shut the door behind you.

In the silence of the bathroom, you take the time to make yourself just a bit more presentable. Peeling off the dress you had bought just the day before and probably wouldn’t wear again, you quickly pull on the clothes that Aaron had given you, glancing at yourself in the mirror once they were on. Both items of clothing swallow you whole, the sweatpants hanging extremely low on your hips and the shirt draping down to your mid-thigh. To prevent accidentally flashing your boss, you use your hair tie to tie up the front of the sweatpants, making the waistline just tight enough to keep the sweatpants from falling.

After wetting your fingers and wiping away all of the make-up that had smeared, you finally step out of the bathroom, taking in the sight of Aaron. He’s changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, just like you, although they obviously fit him a lot better. The shirt stretches across his shoulder blades as he drapes a blanket over the couch, the sight sending not-so-PG thoughts to your brain.

He turns around at the feeling of your eyes on him, that same amused look he had been sporting all night painting across his face as he notices the look in your eyes. Slowly, his eyes skirt along your entire appearance, softening ever-so-slightly at the corners at just how baggy everything looks. “Are you warmer?”

“Very much so.” You respond, lips parting in a large yawn. “Is this my abode for the night?” Your hand points at the small set-up he’s created on the couch, a couple of throw blankets and a decorative pillow.

Almost immediately, he shakes his head. “No, it’s mine.” Noticing your look, he quirks a brow. “You’re going to comment on how nice I am and then be surprised that I’m letting you take my bed for the night?”

Huffing, you move past him quickly, laying down on the couch before he could stop you. “Not happening, Hotchner. There is such a thing as too nice, and it’s what you’ve been tonight.” Pulling your legs closer to your chest, you lift up the blankets, sliding yourself beneath them. 

To your surprise, he leans down to tap your shoulder, adjusting the pillow behind your back once you’ve leaned forward. “Fine. But you can’t say I didn’t try.” After he’s sure you’re comfortable, he turns around, stepping away again. “Let me grab the stuff I left you in my room, then.”

While he’s gone, you settle deeper into the couch. It’s either surprisingly comfortable, or the alcohol in your system has really taken a toll on you. Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re surrounded in the smell of him, both by the clothes on your body and the blankets over your body.

Your eyes are fluttering closed as you hear his footsteps again, noting the clink of a glass on the side table and the soft rattle of pills. You can’t bring yourself to open them again, or open your mouth to thank him, but luckily he doesn’t seem to expect anything from you.

The only thing you’re able to register before you finally fall asleep is the soft brush of fingers on your forehead, pushing away a couple of stray hairs, before the soft click of a bedroom door.

[guksfairy]

hidden in harmony | JJK

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

☆ in which you and Jungkook attend a concert together <3 (with friends)

wc: 3.1k

notes: in my universe BILLLIE is as famous as BTS <3, another group hangout yay ! , i decided to use KakaoTalk instead of iMessage bc for the life of me I can't find a good fake text app I actually like, fluff!!!

“You guys should come along! Hyeonjae told me that Tag was told to bring as many friends as he wanted!” Eunwoo takes a sip of your hot chocolate as Areum explains the conversation she had with Hyeonjae a while ago. She said that on her way to this cafe they bumped into each other and got to talking.

Hitting Eunwoo on the chest for stealing your warm drink, you smile and Jimin replies, “What if he just wanted you? You guys were making heart eyes at each other that time at lunch. This could be his way of asking you out on a date,” Jimin finishes and you and Eunwoo agree.

Areum hides her face against her sweater sleeve and you all know she’s blushing.

“What group is performing?” Eunwoo asks, “BILLLIE,” Areum composes herself and replies which causes you all freeze.

BILLLIE? Is she talking about the internationally famous girl group?

“Wait, Areum…BILLLIE as in thinkin’ ‘bout you thinkin’ ‘bout me BILLIE?” you say singing a part of their song that got them to go viral in Korea, and later on, everywhere else in the world. She simply nods and you, along with Jimin and Eunwoo, stay still. Simply staring at her.

“You’re saying we could get free VIP tickets to watch their concert because your boyfriend’s friend produced songs on their new album?” Jimin takes a breath after speaking so fast. You barely caught onto his words.

“First of all, Hyeonjae is not my boyfriend-”

“So you say,” Jimin interrupts and Areum glares at him.

“Second of all, yes. From what I was told, Tag was contacted by their company to produce a couple of songs on their new comeback album. I guess they got along with him so well they invited him to their concert here in Seoul and told him to invite all his friends,” she explains.

If Hyeonjae is going then that means Jungwon and Jungkook are going too. You’re not one to miss a chance to spend time with your boyfriend.

“I’m in! I love BILLLIE. I also think that Hyeonjae and his friends are fun,” you say mostly referring to your boyfriend.

“I’ll go. I have nothing better to do that night,” Jimin says quickly after and Eunwoo follows, “Me too. What’s better than going to a concert of a group you don’t know too well,”

“We’ll listen to them in the car,” you say and he nods.

“Great. I’ll text Hyeonjae that we’re all going,”

“Yeah go text your boyfriend,” you tease and she rolls her eyes playfully before taking her phone out and texting him.

Eunwoo and Jimin get into conversation about how they really need more guy friends and you laugh for a moment before you realize you should tell Jungkook you’re going.

“What are you smiling about?” Eunwoo asks next to you. You quickly turn your screen off and put your phone back into your purse.

“Nothing. I was just looking for outfit ideas on Pinterest,” you say and Areum chimes in, “We should go shopping early in the morning. I don’t have anything I like in my closet for the concert,” she says.

“She just wants a new outfit to impress Hyeonjae,” Jimin mutters and earns a hit from Areum. As he hisses at the non-existent pain you think about tomorrow and how, if you plan it right, you could be right next to Jungkook at the venue.

Your shopping trip was 10% you actually looking for something cute and purchasing it and 90% Areum freaking out over what would look good.

“You look pretty in that too,” you say as you lean against the wall of the fitting room as Areum goes through her 7th outfit option. She looked just as pretty in the other outfits but she was convinced that there was always a better outfit she would find.

“Ugh what if Hyeonjae doesn’t like it! I really like him, Y/N” she says and you sigh walking up to her, “I know you do,” you chuckle as she leans in for a hug, “And if he feels the same way you do, which he does, he’ll agree with my opinion,” you say and she pulls away to look at herself in the mirror for the nth time.

“I liked the first outfit,” she says and you laugh as she begins changing back to the first option. Unlike Areum, you had already chosen a simple outfit for the night. You had texted Jungkook asking what he would be wearing and he told you something along the line of nothing special maybe just all black. You took that note and decided you would also be going in all black.

You had settled on a black lace shirt and skirt. Areum had convinced you to wear a bow in your hair because she thought it put the whole outfit together and you agreed. Purchasing a black bow at the last store you had visited.

The plan was to meet up with Eunwoo and Jimin at Areum’s by 6:30 latest and then meet up with Jungkook and his friends by 7:00 outside the venue. 2 hours before their performance because apparently, something Tag forgot to leave out, you were all going to be meeting them backstage before their concert. Something you got really nervous for.

It was roughly 4 by the time you and Areum got to her apartment because shopping is your favorite thing to do, besides Jungkook, and sometimes you find yourself getting carried away.

Dozens of shopping bags stood by the entrance door as you and Areum took a quick break from walking around all day and laid on her couch simply scrolling through social media.

It wasn’t until almost an hour later that Areum received a message from Eunwoo saying he and Jimin were on their way that you both jumped up and started getting ready yourselves.

When the guys arrived they simply stayed in the living room waiting for you two to be done so they could be on their way.

“I’m so nervous,” Areum says as she adds the last bit of gloss to her lips.

“To meet the girls or because of Hyeonjae?” you ask.

“Both,” she replies and you giggle at her response.

“Is there a way we can rush this process?” Jimin says standing against the bathroom doorframe.

“Relax. We’re basically done,” you say checking your makeup one last time before walking past Jimin to the living room where Eunwoo sat watching some movie.

“Well don’t you look dapper,” you tell him before sitting on the other far end of the couch. He thanks you and you resume your activity of scrolling through your phone once more.

JK 🤍🐰: Photo

The notification distracts you from the cute cat video you were watching. You turn your body slightly away from Eunwoo and watch him to make sure he doesn’t see your screen. When you’re sure he was too busy with the movie you tap on the notification and are met with the picture he sent.

It’s clearly a group photo but he cropped it so he was only one in the photo.

You chuckle and heart the image before replying back that you guys will be on your way soon as well.

“Areum you look fine let’s go!” you hear Jimin say from the restroom and you laugh as you watch them exit the room. Eunwoo gets up and you follow behind.

“Before we go we have to put batteries in these,” Areum placed four white boxes on the dinner table before sliding one to each of you.

“What are these?” Jimin asks opening the box.

“They’re lightsticks,” she replies walking to a nearby drawer and taking out a big pack of batteries.

“She bought them earlier,” you mention and open your box and Eunwoo does the same. You each take four batteries and turn them on to make sure they work. You had purchased some cute cat ears for yours earlier in the day, so you made sure to put them on before you forget. When you all confirm they do work, you all make your way out the door and down to Eunwoo’s car.

You sat in the back with Areum singing your hearts out to the BILLLIE songs playing from Areum’s phone that she connected the aux cord to. Jimin and Eunwoo just laughed and harmonized with you two every once in a while.

After a short 15 minutes of singing and dancing around you all get to the packed venue. Boys and girls posing in front of the place with their lightsticks and others buying merch on the side. You smile at everyone’s eagerness as Eunwoo drives to the other side of the venue to a gate. The security guard asking them for a badge and Areum extends her hand over you and the man scans something on her phone screen before allowing you all to enter the gated area.

You look around and see Jungkook’s car not too far.

“Koo’s car!” You exclaim and only realize what you had said after Jimin turned to look at you.

“Who?”

“Jungkook,” you say trying to play it off.

“No, you said Koo,” Eunwoo says with his eyes still staring in front of him.

“No I said Jungkook. I just didn’t pronounce his name entirely,” you reply trying to move on from the subject entirely. Not exactly a lie.

“So defensive,” Areum laughs and Eunwoo finds a parking spot near Jungkook.

You’re thankful they didn’t say anything else afterwards and ply away at why you called Jungkook by his nickname. Whether it’s because they’re excited for the concert or because they genuinely don’t care, you’re grateful.

The four of you get out of the car and Jimin is the first to spot Jungkook and his friends. Hyeonjae spots Areum and waves her over and you all follow close behind. Tag is the first to say something.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it,”

“I’m just excited to see BILLLIE,” Areum replies and goes in to hug Hyeonjae. No one from either group says anything but, mentally, you’re all teasing the duo.

“We should go. Their manager told us to be there in 20,” Jungwon says holding up a phone.

“Wait! Before we go in…” Tag holds up a handful of badges that state you’re all VIP guests. He hands them around and you place yours carelessly.

Standing next to you, Jungkook looks at the group who are all focused on themselves and takes the opportunity to fix your lanyard for you so it’s straight.

You look up at him and smile when he gives you a subtle wink and an air kiss that you return. You both walk behind your friends, you in front of him with your hand behind your back that he’s holding.

Tag leads the group through the door and a couple hallways before reaching a door with a paper that read ‘BILLLIE’

You felt your excitement rise as you walked through the door, subtly letting go of Jungkook’s hand when the group huddled up again, you heard their voices.

“Tag!” a blonde haired member exclaims and all the girls turned your way. Flustered, you take a small step back, Jungkook takes notice and makes a move to stand behind you before running the back of his hand up and down your back to soothe you. It works. It always does.

“I’m so happy you could make it!” Another member says walking up to the group. Tag reciprocates their hugs before introducing everyone. You all waved as your name was brought up and they all politely greeted you in return.

“I hope none of you mind you’re being filmed for our tour documentary,” the pink haired girl, Tsuki, warns you all but none of you pay any mind to the camera on you.

You decide to be brave and speak up, “Hi, I’m Y/N, as Tag introduced, and I’m a really big fan of you guys,” you sort of ramble but calm yourself before you could continue. You don’t miss Jungkook’s little snicker at you.

“We’re so happy that you are-oh my god your outfit is so cute!” Tsuki says as she looks you up and down while you fluster up a bit. You feel your cheeks heating up.

“Thank you,”

“Yeah you’re even matching with your boyfriend! How cute,” another member, Sua, joins into the conversation.

“My what-”

Before you know it the members are all staring at Jungkook who is stood behind you. He quickly straightens up as he senses his ears go red.

“Oh they’re not dating but these two are,” Jungwon laughs and point his fingers at Areum and Hyeonjae. He doesn’t realize how thankful you are about him changing the subject so quick.

“Really?” quickly the members take interest and start to tease the two as you look up at Jungkook who looks like he’s trying to hold back a smile.

The rest of the time was spent talking with other members and taking pictures. You, Areum, and Sua decided to make a TikTok together as the others were in their own conversation.

The TikTok dance was fun and energetic leaving you three laughing like you had been best friends for years. Areum grabs the phone to rewatch the video you all made and Sua takes the chance to ask.

“So…he is your boyfriend isn’t he?”

“Huh?” you look at her hoping she was joking but she wore a cunning smile. One that said she knew more than you were letting on.

“C’mon, you can’t seriously tell me that he’s not your boyfriend or something when every single time I look his way his eyes are on you with a smile that tells me he would die for you,”

“…None of our friends know,” you let out. It’s not like this famous kpop idol would tell anyone, besides, it felt nice to tell someone!

“Yeah…if your friends can’t tell that you’re both in love with each other than you might want to buy them glasses,” she giggles and you join. Your flustered state noticed by Jungkook who turned to you the moment he heard your laugh.

“Okay we all look good in this and we totally pulled off that dance,” Areum returns back with the phone still playing the video.

After another 20 minutes or so the staff warned the group they had 40 minutes to change into their stage outfits and finish up anything else needed.

“Bye! We hope you guys enjoy the show!” The members waved as you walked out of their dressing room back into the hallway and were being lead to another area by a staff member.

Again, you walked in the very back with Jungkook.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” his voice was low but that just made the hairs on the back on your neck stand.

“You look handsome,” the group turns a corner and you stop in your tracks hoping that you don’t lose the group or that they notice you to missing.

You lean against the wall and pull Jungkook by the arm onto you in which he gladly leans in for a kiss. His lips always felt like home no matter where you were or in what situation you were in.

Pulling away from the kiss you both stare at each other for a moment before giggling.

“Let’s go before they realize we’re missing,” Jungkook says and you nod as you turn the corner to find the group not too far ahead and catch up completely unnoticed.

The staff lead you to an area where the stage was neither too close nor too far. It was closed off with security at the entrance for your safety.

The seating arrangement was almost perfect. Tag was in the corner with Jungwon and Areum sat between him and Hyeonjae giving Jungkook the perfect opportunity. He sat next to Hyeonjae and you took the seat right next to him. Jimin and Eunwoo on your right. You sort of hoped that you wouldn’t be in the middle of your friends but this was good enough.

“Cute light stick,” Jungkook points to light stick that wore the cat ears from earlier.

“Thanks. Cute face,” you reply and he laughs resisting the urge to kiss you.

You watched as the eager fans walked, some ran, to their seat as you all simply enjoyed the time. You and Jungkook spoke and joked around as everyone else was in their own world. Tag with Jungwon, Hyeonjae with Areum, and Jimin with Eunwoo.

An hour later the lights dimmed and music started to play erupting screams and cheers from all directions including your group. The first song was a hyper one and you all stood on your feet as the girls walked onto the stage and started performing.

Waving around your cute lightstick and singing your heart out, you have the time of your life. You record videos of the them performing and turn the camera to you singing with Jungkook singing a repeating line. At one point, you and Areum stood in front of the group as your favorite song came on and the guys recorded you two. Jungkook’s frame was only focused on you.

You know what the best thing about concerts are? The dark. The way Jungkook can have his hand around your waist when your next to him and none of his or your friends take notice. The way you can hold his hand in the air with an excuse that it’s merely because of the song as you also take Jimin’s hand and wave it around. Only when you let go of Jimin’s hand, you don’t let go of Jungkook’s.

It was possibly the perfect night. A lovely night spent with your friends and your boyfriend. You think back to the conversation you had with Jungkook when you first started dating. About how this should be a private relationship between you two. No friends or family. Perhaps you can tell them. You know Jungkook wouldn’t mind…but then again.

The thrill was also fun and exciting. Maybe one day, but not anytime soon. For now, let it be only between you and Jungkook.

Maybe you’ll just tell them by sending them your wedding invites on a random Tuesday.

[runninriot]

Substitute Santa

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 22

prompt: Santa | rated: G | wc: 998 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve Harrington, pre Steddie

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+bonus epilogue)

"Thank you, son. This means a lot to me."

Eddie grumbles into the phone, says 'No problem, old man. I'm happy to help.' before hanging up, not really feeling his own words despite his uncle's gratitude.

Eddie groans loudly, head tilted back, eyes pinched close - he really should've just said no. But he knows how important this is to Wayne and for all that man has done for him, this really is only a small favour to ask of his nephew.

It's just- ugh.

The prospect of having to sit in a room full of noisy, snotty children for three hours, wearing that ridiculous costume, sweating his butt off underneath the suit, is one Eddie could definitely do without.

For as long as he can remember, every year, his uncle has dressed up as Santa for the Hawkins' annual Christmas charity event at the community centre.

This year, unfortunately, Wayne won't be able to make it because- 'How are the kids supposed to believe Santa will bring their gifts in time when he can't even walk properly?'

Because unlike Santa, Wayne isn't some kind of magical creature, so when he tripped and broke his foot, it meant cast and crutches and rest, even if he keeps forgetting that last part.

Eddie had already made plans to visit him for the holidays, but since his accident happened a few days ago, he decided to take some time off work and head home a week earlier. Which, apparently, gave Wayne the idea that, instead of asking one of the many other possible candidates, Eddie could take up his role this year.

'Keeping up the Munson tradition.'

So, that's what got him into this mess. And although he knows it'll make his uncle happy, he dreads it. Hates it. Wishes it would already be over so he can forget all about it.

The community centre is packed with people. There are little stands where they sell handmade goods and cookies and hot drinks. And at the far end of the room, right in front of the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, he finds the area where half an hour from now, he'll be sitting in the massive wooden chair that reminds him a bit of the makeshift throne he used to sit in while playing his favourite nerd game with his friends in the school's basement.

His DM skills will come in handy today; he was always good at acting, doing voices, and slipping into different roles - so passing as Santa should be easy as pie.

Maybe it'll be half as bad as he thought. Although he's still not sure about handling the kids. Or their parents. Because he knows how impatient and annoying they can get when they have to wait in line for too long.

Two hours in, Eddie is already on the brink of a nervous breakdown. The kid on his lap has been crying for 5 minutes, not wanting to follow his embarrassed mother's plea to 'just sit still and look at the camera'. It's not the first time this happens, and he's pretty sure, not the last.

He already had to bite his tongue multiple times not to yell at someone for cutting the line, or at parents for trying to force their kids to sit on this big, scary man's lap when they clearly didn't want to. No 'nice picture for Grandma and Grandpa' is worth traumatising a child. So Eddie makes sure to always ask the kid in question whether they want to sit or just stand by his side.

When Sobbing Charly's mom has finally gotten a decent enough shot, Eddie takes a deep breath and turns to the next kid in line.

It's a girl, maybe 4 or 5, looking at him with big, curious eyes from where she’s half-hidden behind her dad.

"Robbie's a little shy, sorry. We can just come back later, don't wanna hold up the line," the man says apologetically, and when Eddie looks up at him, he instantly recognises the face.

Standing before him is Steve Harrington, someone he hasn't seen in years, who apparently has a daughter now, and- wow. Eddie needs a moment to process it all. Because he might've had a little crush on the guy back in high school. Okay maybe a massive one. And seeing him now, looking somehow even prettier than he had back then, makes Eddie’s heart flutter.

He shakes himself out of it and turns his attention back to the girl.

"Don't need to be shy Robbie, I know you've been very good this year. Just like your dad. Right, Steve?" Eddie winks at the man whose expression freezes when he seems to realise who is hidden underneath the costume.

"Dad! Santa knows your name!" the girl says in wonder and Eddie has to bite back a laugh.

"Duh, I told you Santa knows everything," Steve answers with a smile directed at Eddie and suddenly the room seems much brighter than before.

Robbie comes out of her hiding spot, still holding Steve's hand tight.

"Can my dad be in the photo with me?" she asks and her big, hazel eyes make Eddie's heart melt.

"Of course, he can."

Before Eddie realises what's happening, he's got both, Steve and his daughter in his lap, cheering at the camera and- Eddie will definitely need a drink after that, if he survives this.

Once they're done, Steve stands up quickly, mouthing 'Sorry' at him, smiling his pretty smile again, and Eddie feels hot all over. Must be the costume, he's sure.

He tries not to let his mind wander to other scenarios of Steve in his lap, turns to Robbie instead, acting as casual as possible when he asks her what her biggest wish for Christmas is.

She thinks about it for a moment, before leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"I wish my dad would find someone that makes him happy."

Oh.

Well. Eddie would gladly make that happen.

[animeyanderelover]

How would tobirama,madara,shisui,kakashi,tsunade,and obito react to accidentally hurting the darling?Thank you ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, paranoia, overprotective behavior

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Accidentally hurting their s/o

Madara Uchiha

🌑​Madara is going to appear rather indifferent at first but his cold exterior is not a representation of what is currently happening in his mind. He's ashamed of himself and his lack of self-control which makes this mistake all the more aggravating for him. If he would have been still a child, this might have been excused but he is a grown man who is the head of his clan. As intimidating and occasionally tormenting as the Uchiha can be, he would never harm his beloved unless they have displeased or angered him so the lack of control over whatever has ultimately led to your pain is going to leave a sour taste on his tongue. His pride is a mountain hard to overcome though so initially he just tells you rather coldly that your injury isn't that bad, leaving you only moments later since he needs time for himself. He has medics catering to your pain though even if your wound is nothing serious, contracting his previous words as he still cares. Words have never been his strong point and partially he believes them to serve nothing anyways but he expresses his apology rather through physical gifts and gestures.

Tobirama Senju

🌊​Tobirama normally manages to keep up a harsh facade even under difficult circumstances yet few things are heavier than realising that he let his own emotions besting him and hurting you physically. Frustration and hot shame curl themselves around his body and for the first time he has no snarky comback or ruthless comment, only speechless with how low this obsession has brought him. He insists on catering to your pain himself even if there is no real need for it, a sliver of desperation visible in his eyes as he asks of you to let him take a look. After he has ensured your well-being, he silently storms out of the house to clear his own mind and to reflect on himself. His pride is rather big yet he is humble enough that this is his own fault and he has lost grasp of his own emotions. He returns back to you after a few hours and actually apologises to you, a sight so rare that it almost spooks you out initially. The guilt lingers for the next few days, the shame that he actually hurt his own spouse because he couldn't control himself a shame too big to simply shake off and forget about. It shall serve as a reminder to him to learn how to tame his obsession better.

Tsunade Senju

🐌​A woman who possesses the strength to shatter mountains has a heart that is perhaps even more fragile than porcelain. Tsunade has already lost the two people who meant the world to her and that trauma feeds her overprotective paranoia when it comes to you. She will take it pretty badly, that is after the initial shock wears down that has numbed her for a good few moments after it has happened. There are tears in her eyes as she looks at you and sees the pain on your face. Pain that she has inflicted on you. Tsunade feels sick to her very core even if there is no blood involved. She is a medic. She is supposed to heal people and help them with the pain yet she is the one who has caused yours. To alleviate the heavy anguish she feels after she has managed to pull through enough to heal your own pain with her abilities, she resorts to sake. She just drinks and drinks and drinks until she falls asleep but even in her drunken state that moment haunts her and with her emotions more vulnerable than ever, she starts crying even in her sleep. Her guilt only adds to her overbearing obsession though as it will never let her forget that she is the one who harmed you.

Kakashi Hatake

📖​If you have ever wondered what the raw obsession hidden beneath that lackluster attitude of his looks like, you get a peak of it when Kakashi hurts you. The moment he fully processes what has just happened, it is already too late and as he looks at your shocked face and the blood that escapes the mild injury, memories flash before his eyes and trigger something visceral out of him. He breaks out in cold sweat and feels the dreadful vice-grip of fear tackling his heart as his chest is heaving with an unknown weight. He feels frozen as if any slight movement from his body would shatter him as his eyes are glued to the injury and it is only because of your interference that he finally snaps out of his paralysed anxiety. For a few moments he just stares at you with wet eyes before he finally gains the ability to move and do something again. There is a slight tremor in his hands as he cleans and bandages your injury, watching the spot for a while as if fearing that blood will stain the material at any moment before he finally lets a burdened sigh out that lifts the weight on his chest at least partially. For the rest of the day he is dedicated to hugging you all of the time, although his touches are light.

Obito Uchiha

🔥​Obito handles it without a doubt the worst. The whole reason why he has taken it so far with his obsession was precisely because he wanted to protect you from any mental and physical pain this world would undoubtedly inflict upon you. Yet now the very world he has grown to despise so much has decided to torment him by letting him be the one who is the cause of your pain, as fleeting as it may be. Obito panicks most likely more than you do as even you reassure him that the injury isn't as bad as he may think. The only thing spinning around in his mind is the fact that he is the one who hurt you as he feels like the world he has been trying to change for years has now even stained him. His anger sparks a swirling inferno inside of him yet he has no one to vent out against as the culprit is he himself this time. He might turn for a good while deranged enough to offer that he will injure himself much worse as a warped way of repenting for what he has done for you unless you stop him. Otherwise he finds himself clinging to you much more as your presence seems to be the only thing containing his obsession from exploding which would lead him to do something really horrendous.

Shisui Uchiha

🍂​Whether you treat it as anything big or not, Shisui will see it as a severe slipup from his side. The Uchiha has always considered his obsession as something he would have to control strictly as he had always possessed the awareness of just how quickly his feelings could spiral into bottomless darkness. For those black feelings to not only make him lose his prized control for a moment but also to accidentally harm you is a deep-rooted disappointment solely pointed against himself that he will never forgive himself for. He keeps his facial expression neutral as he does what he can do to soothe your pain before he leaves, barely able to hold eye contact with you. That doesn't mean that he neglects keeping an eye on you as he just stalks you for the rest of the day, his gaze sharper as he tries to detect how much this incident has affected you. Shisui will apologise to you the next day though and take all the blame himself, silently bemoaning that he allowed his feelings to escalate that much. There is some distance he purposefully creates as he deems it to be necessary for him to work more on himself to never let something like this happen again, although he never stops keeping tabs on you.

[thebiggerbear]

Giving In

Summary: You've finally given in to what you've wanted all this time but will it be enough?

Pairing: ? (whoever you want it to be) x Female!Reader

A/N: This is a new format I was experimenting with while also practicing...well...smut. To a low degree. I've come across fics in the past for all different fandoms, on here and AO3, that have featured this "whichever character you want it to be" format. So this could be Dean, Russell, Beau, Soldier Boy, Jensen, whoever you want. I'm going to tag the ones I just mentioned just to give it somewhere to go but it was purposely kept vague to be whoever the reader wants it to be.

All unbeta'd.

Thank you @rieleatiel for pre-reading! I was so nervous lol. Once again, your input is invaluable and your time spent appreciated. 💖

Warnings: smut-ish (18+ - minors DNI); language

Word Count: 978

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

You can also read on AO3

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as he moved in and out of you.

You felt his breath near your earlobe. “There it is. Let me hear some more of that, sweetheart.” He purposely moaned into your ear as an example.

You dug your nails into his back at the sound, matching the indentations that now resided in your bottom lip from your teeth. Fuck, that was hot. No wonder he wanted to hear similar sounds coming from you. “We shouldn’t—” You loudly gasped when suddenly without warning, he hiked your leg higher on his side, causing him to go just that little bit deeper. “Be doing this.”

“Yes, we should,” he whispered, feeling him trailing kisses down your jawline until he reached your lips. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he grunted into your mouth, squeezing your hand in his almost as if to echo his sentiment.

You let him kiss you passionately, make love to you, but the guilt weighed heavily in your chest. You meant what you had said before — neither of you should be doing this. Yet as his hips moved steadily against yours, as he broke away to lift his head up and lock eyes with you, panting harshly, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you had wanted this for some time as well. It was a truth you kept hidden deep down inside that you refused to acknowledge. Even when you’d taken a picture together last week with your friends and his hand had stayed glued to the small of your back until the last possible second. When his gaze lingered on you longer than it should in polite company. When the discreet tender touches began, the inconspicuous feathery brush of his lips on your earlobe happened repeatedly when your head was a little too close to his, and when his hugs lasted a little too long. Each time any of those things occurred, you knew that you were heading in a direction that would only lead to trouble, getting closer and closer until one of you couldn’t take it anymore. Like a rumbling storm cloud that was close to breaking, the electricity in the air around you two became more and more charged until eventually lightning would strike and the downpour would be sudden and both of you would be drowning in it. You should have put a stop to it, to any of it, but you hadn’t. Because deep down in that secret place, you hadn’t wanted to. 

And now here you were, underneath the man who had as tight of a grip on your heart as he did your body — tighter even. He was staring down at you with a mix of desire and something akin to reverence; you stared back at him, the same feelings coursing through you alongside pleasure and — well, love. You loved these eyes now, the ones that watched your expressions closely as he moved within you. You loved these lips, the ones that parted to let out a deep groan when you reflexively clenched down on him to slow him down. You loved the deep voice that followed, telling you, “Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing the shit out of me” as lust brightened the sheen in his eyes. You loved the warm yet prickly skin you felt underneath your hand when you placed it against his cheek, causing his eyes to shut halfway before he turned and pressed his lips to your palm.

You loved this man. You’d loved him when he insisted on playing you song after song from the playlist on his phone. You’d loved him the first time he’d laughed at something you said, appreciating your steady stream of snarky commentary from movies to news to every possible topic in life you two could find to discuss. You’d loved him when you turned to say something to him about the tv series you were binging together one day to find him already watching you with an affectionate smile and a soft, faraway look in his eyes. You’d loved him when he fell asleep on your couch one night after several drinks between the two of you, his head in your lap and his lips resting against your hand that he had brought to his mouth and placed soft kisses on before drifting off. You’d loved him when you saw an act of kindness from him to a stranger that wasn’t meant to be witnessed by you or anyone else nor was he aware that it was. You loved him beyond words with every smile; every conversation; every laugh; every exchange between you without words; every look; every phone call and facetime; every touch; every text message he sent; every embrace; every thought he had and shared with you; every time he spoke your name with that adoration attached to it — all of it. You loved him.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, straight from the heart.

He turned a dopey smile down on you, kissing the tips of your fingers reverently. He didn’t say it back; he never said it back. And you knew why. It was the very same reason you two should not be tangled up in each other like you were. 

But you knew that he loved you, too, even if he couldn’t say the words. The way he leaned down to kiss you; the way he moved your hand back over your head and slipped his fingers into yours; the way he continued moving both of your bodies anew; the way his mouth lingered near your ear and breathily encouraged your quiet moans with “That’s it, baby, let me hear all of it”; the way he held you to him as you shuddered in orgasm and pressed his lips to your temple — you knew he loved you. And that would have to be enough.

For now. 

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