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daengtokki · 8 months

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Kim Seungmin/female reader

wc: ~7.2k

rating: fluff (kinda?) to smut to fluff ಇ (sub/switch!seungmin/softdom!reader)

comments: this is my first time trying out non idol Seungmin. @xirxe requested au fluff! I started a coworker au, and then got more info from them after I started writing furiously. I'm still working on another one more specific to their request, but I decided to finish this one as well. "Finish" …because I don't know when to stop ever. It got very long and turned much more sex-heavy than originally intended. Anyway, I miss writing long pieces and now I might write a part 5 for Blind Date (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)

⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄

The first time you see him, he’s in one of the appliance aisles. Actually, it’s the first time you hear him, because what gets your attention is him laughing hysterically with another coworker, goofing off, sitting in one of the display office chairs. And he’s just about to be launched down the aisle when you turn the corner.

“Oh shit…caught,” you hear one of them say, and you’re pretty sure it was Changbin. But they both stop dead and look at you like you already handed out their punishments.

The reality is, you don’t care what they’re doing, because the store is nearly empty of customers. The snowstorm outside is making sure of that. But you’re new, and you’re above them—that’s all it takes to make things awkward. They’re probably expecting you to start bossing them around immediately.

Nope. You walk by them and smirk, “don’t break anything please…”

They giggle and pick up where they left off as soon as you turn the corner and disappear. You remember who the dark haired one is, but for some reason, the name of the blond in the chair is escaping you.

The second time you see him, he’s fighting with the coffee machine in the breakroom.

As soon as he hears you walk in, he stops beating his open palm against the side, looks back, smiles, then tries the button again. “Do you want a cup?” He asks.

“Doesn’t seem like it wants to give us any.”

“Surrounded by brand new Nespresso machines…stuck with this.” He opens the top, closes it, then pushes the button again. This time it works, and a moment later, his coffee is pouring into his cup.

“Maybe I can ask about getting a new one for us.” You watch him watching his coffee.

He swirls it and brings it to his nose before taking a sip. “I’ve tried. Hopefully you have better luck.”

To your surprise, he sits directly across from you at the table. You look at him, try desperately to remember his name. You forgot to check the schedule when you saw him earlier in the day, but you don’t want to ask. And of course he isn’t wearing his name tag.

“Where’s your name tag?” You ask, trying not to sound too much like a manager.

“Uh…” he slaps his chest where it should be, looks down at it, thinks. “I must’ve lost it.” The smirk on his face is…cute.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“You’re very helpful.” He shakes his bangs away from his eyes—blond, a little too long. You can see his big dark eyes a little better, just for a second until his gaze drops back down to his coffee.

“I try.”

He’s quiet for the remainder of your break, but when you rise to leave, he does as well. You head toward the office, and he follows. Just before you get there, he makes a left turn.

Now you can finally look at the schedule and figure out his name.

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

The very next day, you still have no idea who he is. The copy of the schedule was nowhere to be found, and your computer access is still limited. Try as you might, your login just won’t work. All you have to do is ask him, though. It’s not that big of a deal. And honestly, if you weren’t wearing your name tag, he probably wouldn’t know yours either.

A soft knock on the office door makes you jump. You check the time—8am. If only you could find a schedule, you’d know who was supposed to be here right now.

“Good morning!” You’re greeted with a familiar face when you open the door. He steps inside, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Do you have a job for me?”

“Do I…I’m not sure. Is anyone else here?”

“Uhm, well you opened the doors,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “and I just came in because the door wasn’t locked, which was lucky, because it’s cold out and I did not want to stand out there and wait.”

“Okay, so we’re here.”

“Just us, yes.”

“Do you have a login for the computer?”

He nods and smiles, takes a seat, and starts typing. “You don’t?”

“It doesn’t work yet.”

“Oh okay, that sounds about right for this place.” He gets up and turns the seat for you. “I don’t have as much access as your login would, but it’s better than nothing.”

You sit down and spin back to the computer, look around, click a few things. His profile photo stares at you from the corner, and you have to force yourself not to accidentally click on it. He’s watching over your shoulder, leaning in a little, trying to be helpful. You catch the faintest scent of whatever he's wearing. It's not cologne, though. He just smells clean and nice, probably how his bedroom smells.

You find a page of contacts, phone numbers. Good enough for now. “Thanks,” you turn to him and he’s staring down at you with a goofy smile.

“No problem. I’m going to go make some coffee.”

As soon as he leaves, you don’t grab your phone and call another manager, and you don’t even keep the contact page up. You go back and click on his profile.

“Oh! Kim Seung Min, that’s your name.” You stare at his profile photo. His hair is darker in this, and the contrast makes his skin look pale and his eyes look even bigger. His smile is so wide, like he's actually happy to be there. He’s very photogenic; it’s a good photo. A work ID photo really has no business looking this nice.

A few minutes later, he knocks again, and you quickly exit out of the screen as if he can see you through the door.

“Sorry, I just…I saw the new machine," his little nod and blink makes your breath catch in your throat. "I made you some.”

Seungmin hands you a mug of coffee, a little darker than you’re used to, but he obviously watched you put milk in yours yesterday, and tried his best to copy it.

“Thank you, Seungmin.”

“I can remake it, if it’s not good.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

You look at the screen, heart starting to race. Did you only think you exited out of his profile? No, it’s not there. What is he talking about?

“Oh…oh, no not yet. No answer. I’ll call again in a few minutes.”

“I can help you with the opening stuff, if you’d like. I’ve done it a few times with the other managers.”

“The guy I saw yesterday and the one I’m seeing now don’t seem like the same person.”

He stares blankly for a few seconds, puffs out his cheeks, looks around. “Me?” The blush in his cheeks is rising. “Am I being too responsible right now? I can stop.” Seungmin smiles so big you can see all of his teeth.

It’s hard keeping your own smile in check. This one has to know how cute he is, and there’s no way he doesn’t use it to his advantage. “You can stop in an hour.”

“Deal.”

The two of you survive, dancing around each other for a few hours—you, purposely avoiding him several times by swerving to a different aisle. Him, well…he acted responsible all morning, smiled every time you made eye contact. When noon finally comes around, another manager shows up, and the snow finally stops.

Changbin also arrived at noon, and as soon as he and Seungmin looked at each other, all responsibility flew out the window. But you turned a blind eye to whatever goofing off they decided to do. And Seungmin, unfortunately, didn’t look in your direction the rest of the day.

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

“Does your login work yet?” Seungmin comes in and digs around in the pockets of his jacket.

You’re slumped over on the table, phone in hand, trying not to fall asleep, but you sit up when you see him come through the door, “It does.”

This is the first time you’ve seen him in three days. He was off, then you were off for two days. Now you’re on break, and he just started his shift 15 minutes ago. You’re not sure why he’s in here, and whatever he’s looking for in his pockets doesn’t seem to be there.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and then finally pulls something out. It’s his name tag. He pins it to his shirt, very crookedly, then takes it off and tries again.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” you squint at it and try to make out the little sticker by his name, but he’s too far away.

“The trick to falling asleep is to try to stay awake.”

“What?” You look from his name tag to his face. His hair is dark again. “Your hair.”

“My hair? Oh! I got tired of being blond.”

You like it dark. It’s not dark, though, not really. It’s a natural brown color, but he obviously did it himself, because you can still see some blond streaks coming through. It makes his skin look warm. Yes, you like it.

“If you try to keep yourself awake in bed, you fall asleep. I was trying to read on my phone last night, and I really wanted to finish the chapter, but I ended up dozing off and dropping my phone on my face.”

It’s so stupid, and so clever. And cute.

Seungmin smirks at you and turns to walk away, and then he turns back. “Does it look okay?”

You stare at him. Does what look okay? His badge? Everything from where you’re sitting looks very good, now that he mentions it. Long legs in his black jeans, a little loose around his tiny frame. There's a rip over one thigh, and you can see some of his skin peeking through. The belt holding them up had to have an extra hole poked in it, because the end of it is long enough to stick out from the dark blue work shirt.

“My hair, I mean.”

“Yeah, I like it.”

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Seungmin isn’t alone today. His work buddy is here, and you can hear them all the way on the other side of the store. An hour or so later, another one comes in—this one you haven’t met yet, because he’s been gone all week. But as soon as he clocks in and returns to the floor, you hear all three of them laughing and acting up.

You don’t want to have to compete with two friends to get to him, but you will.

A walk by the phone accessory aisle gives you a chance to peek at them. Seungmin is sitting on the floor, legs crossed, arms propping up his long body.

Nobody else in the store seems to bother with making them work, so you don’t either. At least not now, in your first week. It’s hard enough starting a new job without worrying about making enemies—and besides, the minute you laid eyes on his him, making a new friend became your agenda.

---

And of course they all sit in the breakroom together, chatting loudly. As long as one of those two are here, you don’t imagine you’ll have any opportunity to talk to him.

They’re not teenage boys, but you wouldn’t really know it if you could only hear the conversation and not see them. You almost walk in on them, but the noise startles you just as you reach for the door knob. Stopping and listening in is not your smartest decision of the day, but once you stand silently for a few seconds, you can’t move.

The first voice is easily recognizable—it’s Changbin.

“She doesn’t talk much…she hasn’t spoken to me at all. Well, except when she told me not to break anything.”

“Well I haven’t even seen her yet, so I guess she—“

“It’s shitty being new. I’m sure she’s just trying to get used to things.”

Seungmin’s voice is surprisingly quiet.

“Maybe. You’ve worked with her more. And I always see her looking at you…so.”

“So…what?” Seungmin is still quiet but there’s a tiny bit of offense behind it.

“So maybe you’re making it easier for her to adjust.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

"Don't play dumb, Seungie...older woman, authority figure." Changbin laughs,

“Cmon Min…” this time it’s the other one talking, “we know you’re a little bit of a slut sometimes.”

He doesn’t say anything in return, but you hear his chair being pushed back, and then he gets to his feet. It takes you a second to loosen yourself from the spot, but you manage just in time and duck behind the corner.

Seungmin runs right into you when he turns and he nearly knocks you to the ground, but his hand grabs your arm to steady you. “I’m sorry…you alright?” His voice is still quiet. He’s whispering, probably because he doesn’t want them to hear.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You look up at him, and you can’t help but wonder if what they just said about him is true. They were obviously trying to rile him up, but friends are also brutally honest sometimes.

“Are you going on your break? I wouldn’t go in there yet, if you are.”

“I was going to, yes.”

“Changbin and Hyunjin are in there, and they can be a handful sometimes.”

“And you’re not?”

A nervous laugh comes out, “uhm, maybe sometimes. They’re not the best influence on me.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“I can go back and make you a coffee. Actually…”

“Seungmin you don’t have to do that.”

“…I can take you across the street and we can grab some better coffee there.”

“Seungmin,” you widen your eyes at him, because his are huge.

“Please, I want to.”

“Are you flirting with me?” You're not sure why he wants to protect you, but that's clearly what he's doing.

Another nervous laugh. His ears turn red. He stutters, “flirting…um, uh no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

You hear them before you see them. They open the door and turn the corner before you can react—Seungmin freezes and stares at you. Changbin pushes him into the wall as he walks by, laughs, nods to you, and disappears.

“Guess the breakroom is safe now.”

“Yeah.”

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Once today, Seungmin caught himself staring at you. He dropped his eyes back down to his phone immediately, heart racing, face red. Part of him wanted you to catch him looking, the other part is still nervous.

You asked him to watch the register specifically to keep him away from his jerk friends, and you tried not to make it too obvious, but he knows. From here, he can see you wandering around, and you can see him. They’re nowhere to be found. It’s quiet.

He won’t tell anyone (well, not them), but he likes when it’s quiet and he can be by himself. And as much as he hates watching the register, he’s glad you put him up here, because it gives him a a chance to read and people watch. Now he’s just waiting for you to walk by.

A text pops up on his phone:

Did you get in trouble Seung?

He ignores it.

She’s looking at you right now…she’s swooning

He tries to ignore him again, but he looks up and around, trying to find you. Seungmin knows Changbin is just being an asshole, but maybe you are looking at him. He’s hoping you are.

“Seungmin?”

He jumps, and nearly drops his phone. “Hi…hi. You’re very quiet.”

“Sorry. I can wear a bell, if that helps.”

“A bell? Like a…a collar?” Seungmin watches as your eyes grow big. He has no idea why he said that, and now you probably think he’s a pervert. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that.” He goes back to his phone only to see more texts—a string of laughing emojis—oh, there she is—she can’t stay away from you.

“Yeah…bell, collar. Makes sense.”

“That was..." he groans, "so stupid. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. At least I know where your mind is now.”

“No, it’s not. I’m not…I mean, I’m just a ditz.”

“You’d look much better in one.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at his cheeks. “Please don’t hate me.” His eyes pop open again, “I’d what?”

“…look cute wearing a collar.”

“I would?”

You mhm and walk away. Just leave it at that. Were you flirting? Deflecting? Making him feel less stupid?

Seungmin doesn’t feel any less stupid. A comment like that to the wrong person could mean getting fired, and he just said it to his new manager.

But he doesn’t think you’d get him in trouble. He has no reason to think you wouldn’t, but…no, you wouldn’t.

You pop up behind him again, and once again, he jumps. "It's gonna take a lot more than that to make me dislike you."

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

The next time you see him, he’s on his way out. You’re making coffee, he barrels into the breakroom to grab his things. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a great mood, so you keep your attention on your mug.

Seungmin is in his locker and mumbling to himself. And then… “oh, I didn’t know anyone was is here.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just ready to get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The ghost of a smile is on his lips as he grabs his coat and runs back out the door. You were hoping for one more awkward moment with him before either of you left tonight, but now it’ll have to wait.

But he comes back in a moment later; doesn't speak, doesn't even close the door. Just looks at you.

Seungmin has no idea why he came back in, but he was hoping a good excuse would come to him in the few seconds it took to get here. Now he's just staring stupidly and chewing on his lip.

"Hi," you smile at him and sip your coffee. "Did you want a cup before you catch your bus?"

"How'd you know I take the bus?"

"You shrug, "It's in your availability, silly."

"Oh, right. So you're not just watching me all the time?"

"I didn't say that."

They're heard before they're seen. Changbin and Hyunjin push themselves right through Seungmin on the way into the breakroom.

"Oh, hi boss," Changbin reddens and smirks when he sees you standing there, "Is this a bad time?"

"I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow." Seungmin ducks out quickly before you can even say goodbye.

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

“Don’t forget your coffee,” Hyunjin squeezes Seungmin’s shoulder as he sneaks by him.

“My what? I didn’t bring coffee in with me.”

“It has your name on it.”

He turns and see it’s sitting there. Just a black coffee, but not from here. It’s from the coffee shop across the street. And yes, his name is written neatly on the side.

“Somebody brought you coffee. How sweet.” He smirks. “Have a good shift.”

Seungmin picks it up and takes a sip. It’s still hot, so it was just set here recently. And of course he knows who put it there, because he can be a little stupid sometimes, but not that stupid. He looks at the schedule on his phone to see who he works with, and you’re right in the middle of his shift. You’ll be gone soon, but, at least he didn’t just miss you.

---

“Thank you,” he says, walking up behind you. You have your coffee in one hand, phone in the other.

“For what?” Seungmin doesn’t scare you, his voice is too sweet and soft, even if he does sneak up.

He looks at his cup, then to you.

“You’re welcome. Hopefully you always take it black.”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Oh, and you’re getting cut today.“

“My shift was cut?”

“In half. I told the boss I needed you here until I was done.”

“You do?”

“No, but I figured half a shift was better than none. And I can give you a ride home, if you want. It’s too cold to wait on the bus.”

Seungmin sips his coffee, because he’s not sure how to respond just yet. His stomach is swirling, though, and he’s trying to conceal his smile. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

You turn to face him, “in trouble for what?”

“Favoritism.”

“You think you’re my favorite?”

He nods once, mouth still covered by his cup.

“You’re right, you are.”

---

The rest of the shift drags, and of course it would—you’re putting him in your car and taking him home in a few hours…this will be your first time seeing him outside of work. You try to keep away from Seungmin as much as possible, though, because he’s right. If you’re not careful, everyone will notice the attention you’re starting to give him.

“I’m a bit of a drive from here,” he says when you finally walk down the same aisle as him. “So if you don’t want—“

“If you can handle it on the bus, I’m sure I can handle the drive.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t mind. You can get the coffee next time, if it makes you feel better.”

“Yes,” he reaches out and looks at the order on the side of your cup. “I can do that.”

･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

It is a long drive. But you don’t mind, because he’s comfortable in the passenger seat; head back, eyes closed. You sneak a glance at him every chance you get, and each time, it looks like he’s sleeping soundly. It’s nice seeing him so close, letting your eyes linger even more than you dared to before. Even in the dark. The shape of his nose and lips, his jawline, his ear. The way his hair falls so nicely, and so effortlessly.

But of course he catches you, looks right back, and smiles.

“You really have such a long ride to and from work every day, Seungmin?” You blush, even though you don’t think he saw you staring.

“Yeah, it’s not bad. I’m used to it.”

“Are you saving for a car?”

“No, I can’t drive.”

“Oh, do you want to learn?”

“I’m not sure, thinking about driving makes me nervous.”

“I don’t want this to come across weird, but…how old are you?”

“I am 23. Am I too young or too old?” He flips down the visor and opens the mirror.

“Are you flirting?”

“You did it first.”

“No, I think you might have flirted first, actually.”

“When?”

“When you tried to keep me out of the breakroom. But I guess that was more for my own sake than anything.”

“I didn’t want you to have to listen to them.” Seungmin sits back again, and you can feel his stare burning into you.

“I heard them.”

“You did? What did you hear?”

“Your friends think you’re fucking me…or that you’re going to. And that you’re a slut.”

He’s quiet, and you hope you haven’t gone too far by actually saying it as crassly as they did.

“I’m not.”

“You’re not a slut?” You smile at him, hoping to break any tension you may have created. Thankfully it seems to work, because Seungmin laughs and covers his eyes. Then shakes his head.

“Or you’re not gonna fuck me?”

You can’t see his reaction, because now you have to watch the road, but he’s quiet again and it’s killing you.

“Take a left up here.” He says.

You decide to avoid eye contact completely until you get him home, and luckily, it’s not much longer. You pull into a spot as close to the door as possible, put it in park, and look at him.

He’s still relaxed, sitting back, eyes wide open and staring at you.

“I’m sorry, that was…uh, maybe too much.“

“Do you wanna come up?”

—-

Of course you do. The last three weeks you’ve spent trying to keep your distance has been torture, but you’re still nervous as you follow him down the hall to his apartment. You’re certain that as soon as you have him where you want him, you’ll snap out of it.

“This one,” he says it quietly, a little timid, maybe. You like it. “It’s probably a little messy.”

“I don’t mind.”

It’s not. Seungmin’s idea of messy is your idea of tidied up. And it’s a cute little apartment. Just looking at the couch—the big striped throw pillows, a few plushies, it doesn’t look like a typical single guys apartment. It’s cute, and it’s comfortable. It’s really cute. The kitchen is small and most of the counter space is taken up by an espresso machine and all of the things that go with it. It’s neat in here, too. Not a dish or cup out of place.

“I like it,” you turn and he’s there, an inch away from you. “Can I see the rest?”

“Of course.”

The rest being his bedroom, and he leads you right in. It’s a little darker in here, but it’s still very him. It’s sweet, a little bit colorful, and very very soft.

The dog plush on top of one of his pillows reminds you of something important, “oh, you're collar. It's at home.”

“My collar? You got me a collar?”

“Yeah, it’s really cute.” You close the gap between you and grab the neck of his shirt, “sit.”

He does. Seungmin sits on the edge of his bed, not breaking eye contact. He leans back and rests on his hands, stretches out his long torso, spreads his knees as you put a leg between them. "What does it look like?"

You run your hand up to his throat and very, very lightly close your hand around it. No need to scare him off immediately. You want to squeeze, but right now you’re perfectly content just touching him "It's red...dark red, and has a gold chain across the front."

"A bell?"

“Of course. A tag, if you want.”

His eyes light up, and his hand wraps around your thigh, thumb moves in gentle circles. It sends a little shiver up your arms. He’s making your head swim, and you need to get a hold of yourself.

"...but you won't be fucking me."

"Huh?" he stops, and his mouth opens a little.

It seems a little bold of him, but he slides both hands up your thighs, up your hips, and hooks his fingers underneath your leggings. You told him he won’t be fucking you, and yet…

He pulls down, gently, until you can kick them to the side...and he looks up at you with pleading eyes. You grab a handful of his pretty hair and put his lips on you, and he kisses your hip so softly, you feel like you could melt.

“No," you push him back a little and straddle him. He’s resting on one elbow, and the other hand is slowly moving up toward your ass. “No, pup…I’m fucking you.”

He mouths the word pup, bites down on his lips, tries to hold back his smile. “Yes, please.”

“Please? Oh, I knew you were the one.”

“I am,” Seungmin falls to his back, and sighs…moans, “I am, noona.” His hips buck up and he looks down at his quickly growing erection. Seungmin was probably already halfway there when he invited you up.

He needs let loose, but first you feel him over his clothes. He’s a handful, and he twitches when your fingers move along his length.

“Please…” he whispers, and his puppy eyes are impossible to deny. Now you want to give him everything. “Take care of me.”

“Oh, Seungmin…” you unbuckle his belt, unbutton, unzip. Very slowly. “I will.”

“Minnie.”

“Hmm?” You run a hand over him again, and the red, needy tip of his cock peeks out from his briefs. “What’d you say?”

“Call me—“ he’s cut short by your lips wrapping around his head. His moan cuts through you, your pussy throbs, and your mouth sucks him in a little more. “…call me Minnie.”

“Minnie,” you moan, licking the pre-cum from his stomach. “Minnie, you’re so hard for me.”

Finally, you pull at the sides of his jeans, slide them down his legs, and throw them to the side. You suck him in as far as you can—he squirms, and his hips jerk up toward your mouth, pushing him in even further. A slap on his thigh settles him, letting you work him at your own pace. You don’t want him anywhere near close yet, because you’re just getting started.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” You look at him, stroke him slowly, take in the rest of his body. His sweatshirt is still on, but pushed up just enough for you to see his stomach.

“Yes, I’ll be good.”

You lean down and kiss his stomach, run your tongue across his belly button, “take that off.”

Seungmin listens and pulls his sweatshirt over his head.

“Look at me.”

He does. He doesn’t break eye contact when you suck him back into your mouth, stroke hard and slow, lick the pre-cum leaking out of him again. His moan is desperate and whiny, just how you like it.

“You’re so pretty, Minnie.” You crawl over him, leaving kisses on his body as you go, and when you stop at his throat, he whines a little and licks his lips. “So sweet.”

You’re making him blush. And you give him no warning when you take his dick and slide it across the wet fold of your cunt. His fingers grip your thighs, and you let him hold on as you push him in. Despite how wet you are, it takes a little work. You slide down slowly until he disappears completely inside of you.

The sound he makes for you is so much better, so much softer than you thought it would be—he’s already begging for more.

You grind your hips into him and stretch yourself around his thickness, get used to how much he’s filling you up. “Minnie,” you moan. “Fuck.”

You could do this until you come. You might. He seems like he's enjoying himself, too.

His hips lift and hit you deeper. You let him, because it feels too good. He mumbles something, but you’re too lost in how he’s making you feel.

When your hands grip the sheets next to him, his wrap around your arms, slide up, and then back down. “You feel so good,” he purrs.

You lift your hips and bounce on him, slowly at first, because he’s already losing it. He has no problem making noise and his moans drown out whatever he’s trying to say…

so good… don’t… stop… please… ah… so tight...I'm gonna...

“Oh no baby, not yet,” you slow down and grind on him again, hitting just the right spot. You lean back and hit it even harder, over and over. Each pound against his hips makes him whine. “Pup, you’re gonna make me come already, you’re such a good boy.”

You do. You look at him as you squeeze him tight, relax, and gently bounce up and down. Seungmin smiles and licks his lips—the only sound is the wet slide of him being covered in your come, and it's all he can keep his eyes on.

He bucks up hard, “I wanna come,” and again, you let him. He’s getting away with far too much, but he feels so good, and he’s too cute, and he’s too gentle. And you can’t wait to make him come. But not yet.

“Soon Minnie, I promise,” you lean forward and groan with the change in angle. “I want you all night.” You place a kiss on his chest, bite and kiss his nipple.

“I can come for you…all night.”

“I bet you can.”

“Kiss me, please.”

“I am…” you laugh and work you way further up.

“Please,” he whispers. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks.”

“You have?”

“Yeah…mhm, I have.”

“Oh, you…you like me, huh? I mean—”

Seungmin nods, “don’t you like me?”

“I like you very much,” you kiss the corner of his mouth, bite his lip, and then finally press your lips against his. He kisses so eagerly, so hungrily, you almost can’t keep up with his tongue.

He hums and moans down your throat, holds onto your thighs tight enough to leave marks—fucks you, slowly and deeply, rolling his hips so smoothly you can already feel another orgasm rising. You wonder if he even knows how good he is.

“Min—” you just barely get it out around his lips. “Minnie…”

He slows down, but doesn’t stop.

“Easy,” you finally pry him off of you and push him down, hand just below his throat, “take it easy.”

“Sorry,” Seungmin slows his hips down even more, and eventually comes to a stop. His fingers are still digging into your skin, and his chest is heaving.

“No,” you run your fingers up and down his throat, kiss him one more time, and pull him up by the back of his neck until he’s sitting. “Nothing to be sorry for, you’re still a good boy.”

This has been too easy. You weren’t sure how easy it would be to get him underneath you, falling apart, begging for more…but you had a feeling he wanted it just as much as you. What you weren’t completely sure of was how much control he’d give to you.

Luckily, Seungmin is just what you hoped he would be: gentle, pliant, needy for attention, and very horny.

He melts into your touch—your fingers running through his hair, your thumbs running over his ears, still red and warm. You kiss and suck at the skin on his jaw, not caring if you leave marks. And very slowly, you start to move your hips again.

You have his shoulders for leverage now, and your arms are wrapped loosely around him. From this position he could take so much more control, but he doesn’t. He’s content just watching you move on him, looking up every so often until you look back. Every time you do, a smile tugs at his lips, and you can tell he just wants to kiss you again.

Keeping it from him is becoming a challenge. He craves touch and affection, and he might be the most patient, well-behaved fuck you’ve had in a long time, so you will give it to him eventually.

“Seungmin?” His name feels so nice rolling off of your tongue.

He looks at you…flushed, sweat rolling down the bridge of his nose. He answers by sliding his palm up along your spine.

“Seungmin…” you lock your arms around him, pull him in until your foreheads are touching, and start fucking him faster. He holds you steady, pulls you toward him, grinds you on his cock just how he likes it. “Oh god…ah, just like that, pup. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward and kisses, “that feels good, hm?”

His words come out so heavy and warm and thick. You can’t stop him, you won’t. He keeps his pace and movements so steady, and it feels so good you could cry.

“Come for me, please. I wanna hear you.”

Seungmin, you whine his name, pathetically, like you’re falling apart, because you are. You moan and your legs start to shake, but he holds you tighter and keeps you moving on him. In and out, back and forth. Right where you need it. Over and over.

You cry out, and he smiles as he works you through it—gradually slowing down as you relax...then he lifts you up and off of him.

“No, I’m not done with you.”

“Just a little break,” he pushes his forehead against yours again, closes in on your lips, but you shake your head.

“You’re not in charge, pup.”

“I’m not, I know. Catch your breath.”

“You feel so good...I wanna keep going.”

“Not yet…” he grabs you around the middle and puts you on your back. “Relax.”

“Minnie…what are you doing?”

The room spins. You close your eyes. The bed shifts as he lays down, and you feel a blanket being pulled up and over you. And then his arm is there, pulling you against his warm body and holding you tight. Seungmin is turning everything upside down. You’re melting into him, and you like it.

“What about you?” You mumble into his chest, “I wanna make you feel good.”

“You are…don’t worry. We’re just catching our breath.”

“Seungmin”

He rubs your back, “hmm?” pulls away just enough to look at you.

“Nothing”

“Nothing? You sure?”

“No. What are we doing? Ooh…you like me.” It’s hard not to smile when you say it out loud again. “Do you, really?”

He laughs and tries to hide his face behind the blanket. “Yeah, sorry. Am I complicating things?”

“You are, but it’s okay.”

“Is it too much? We can keep going, if that’s what you want. You can take over again.”

“Is this what you like, sweetie?” You slide a fingertip along his jaw and over his ear. “Just being like this? Kissing…” you pull him close for one, “touching.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” Seungmin is excited and relaxed and nervous all at once. You’re a little more than he was expecting, but he’s not going to complain. He wanted this. He still wants it.

Another kiss on his lips, “you just want taken care of, yeah?”

He nods.

“Good,” as soon as you wiggle your hand free, you slide it down his stomach until your fingertips find him, still hard. Taking care of Seungmin is the only thing on your mind now; making him feel good, giving him all the attention and affection he needs. Making sure he comes back for more.

Slow, gentle strokes—a kiss between his eyes, on the tip of his nose. You almost get teeth when you go for the smile on his lips.

His hands are all over you, touching everywhere he can.

You swallow every little moan that passes his lips, every hitch in his breath when he can’t keep from pushing his hips against you. He gets closer, and he wants more, but you just keep kissing him and touching him just enough.

“Can I…”

“Hmm?”

His eyes scan your face, and he pushes you flat on your back again. Before you even think of protesting, he’s on you, lips on your neck, hands on your thighs, hips grinding into yours. He stretches you out and his thumb finds your clit, still swollen and sensitive.

You focus on kissing him and letting him work. It’s not that you can’t give up control—you just usually don’t. Seungmin is making it easy, though. His pace isn’t too much. He’s not smothering you, and he’s not selfishly pounding you into the bed. Your thighs are resting on his lap, hips up, legs curled around him. And every time he slides in, his dick hits right where you need it to. You can breath between his kisses, and you can enjoy every soft movement of his fingers.

“Should’ve let you take over sooner…”

A pretty smile spreads across his face, and you get lost in his eyes; two big black crescent moons, squished by his pink cheeks. You’ve never had someone smile at you like him. Not while they fucked you like this, at least.

“So good...feels so good,” you barely hear him when he breathes it out. "Does it, baby?"

His mouth is on yours before you can answer, wet and messy, teeth biting and pulling at your lips—down to your throat, he bites and sucks and licks at the sweat forming there.

“You like leaving marks, pup?” You ask, but in your head is an echo of him calling you baby.

The mhmm against your neck makes you shiver.

“Should I keep them out for your friends to see?”

Seungmin is up and back in your face… "yes"…forehead against yours, “please.”

He’s getting so close. Whiney shallow breaths, slow deep thrusts.

“Come in me…it’s okay.”

That…and your fingers grabbing for his hair—that’s all he needed. It hits him and he falls onto you. Your hands move to wrap around his waist, and you hold tight as he slows himself and fills you up. All of his weight on you feels so good, though. His sweat and his heat, his heavy breaths moving across your face.

He shifts to kiss your neck again. Softly, though...no marks this time.

The room is quiet for a while, and only sounds are your legs rubbing against the sheets, against his thighs, the wet release of Seungmin’s lips on your skin.

“You okay?” He finally breaks the silence. “Was that okay?”

You nod and knead your fingers into his shoulders, “you have a good touch, pup.”

“I like that," he sighs, pulls himself out, crashes down next to you. But his arm stays draped over your stomach,

“Hmm, what do you like?”

He props himself up and bats his eyes at you, “I like being pup. Do you call…um, do you call other guys cute nicknames?” Seungmin looks away when he finally stutters it out.

“What makes you think there are other guys?”

And now his face turns bright red. “Oh, sorry, you’re just...you seem like you know what you're doing. You know what you want."

“It's alright. There hasn’t been anyone in a while.”

“Just me,” he whispers, and smirks.

“You’re my only pup.”

"Good."

Lips press against your shoulder, his arm squeezes and brings you closer. You can't help but lean into his embrace. Even now, after everything is done, at least for the moment, you can't escape your growing feelings for him. Sex didn't quench the desire—you don't want to get dressed and leave, you don't want to be done and rid of him until the feeling returns.

The guys you usually sleep with are one night stands for a reason, and you never think of them again when they leave. And you certainly don't give them cute nicknames.

"You threw me off a little, though."

"I did? What did I do?" he laughs, and he has no idea how much it cuts through you. "You were amazing."

"You're so sweet."

Seungmin searches your face, but he can’t figure out what’s going on in your head. It seems like you feel the same as he does, or it did, but right now is when it matters. You caught each other, you poured yourselves out all over place. Now what?

"What's wrong?" he gets even closer, and his nose is almost brushing against yours. "Coming down from everything, maybe? Do you want me to get your stuff so you can get dressed?"

"No, I don't wanna leave."

The relief that washes over his face—you can see it. He isn’t trying to be subtle, because Seungmin has already confessed his feelings to you. You kind of did, too. The difference is, you lied, because you weren’t totally, completely, one hundred percent sure until a few minutes ago.

Now he’s looking down at you like he didn’t just give you three orgasms, and like his come isn’t slowly dripping out of you.

“Not yet.”

“You can stay as long as you want.”

“I can take us to work in the morning.”

“You wanna spend the night? Ah, I can make us dinner, and breakfast…unless, maybe that’s too much.”

“No, it's not. But I am wondering something..."

He’s so eager to hear. He rests his chin on you and grins, “what is it?”

“Can we do that again? Can you really come all night?

#skz seungmin #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin fanfic #sub!seungmin #sub seungmin #skz smut #skz fanfic #skz x reader

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liivzen · 10 months

Note

Hiii i saw your requests are open. So i have a little something. So, I've had this daydream about post-war levi, where he has a cozy little tea shop. The reader, who is a law student, goes there to study quite frequently. She basically went there for the ambiance and kept going for the owner, if you get me :p. So yeah, it is obvious to lev that she has a crush on him, and you know you know, they talk and all that and one thing leads to another. I hope this isn't too detailed. You can let out anything you're not comfortable with, of course. Lots of luvv ~~

bruh i seriously i have an issue with tumblr. they deleated my draft i had for this. BUT ANYWAYS HIIIIIII, you’re the first person to have a request everrrr! Im so happy someone finally submitted something! I hope this is something that you like, i wish i could’ve wrote more but i am busy with finals (fucking kms). I hope i can expand on this soon though:)

nothing nsfw for now but hopefully we’ll expand on that as well 😏 Also mind the grammar or errors of any kind, I am not an english major for a reason.

You sat in a chair at a small table against the window of the little tea shop in town. Your books scattered around the table, but with no actual work getting done though however. You’re attention was on the man behind the counter with his back facing towards you making a tea for a fellow customer.

This isnt isnt the first time you’ve been at the tea shop. You started coming just to study and enjoy a tea or two. Now you stay for a completely different reason, or well person. You couldn't help put stare at his defined back, his sleeves rolled to his forarms and hands moving with skill.

Unknown to you, Levi could feel your stare, and has been feeling them for months. He could feel you staring at him right now, he tries ignoring it but in the end he always turns around and makes brief eye contact with you. You quickly looked away, breaking the eye contact and pretend to work on whatever was in front of you.

You keep working, sort of, while stealing quick glances to the man. This goes on until it starts to get dark outside and you can tell the owner is starting to clean up the shop. He slowly finishes wiping down a table next to yours and you try not to stare by pretending to work. He slowly makes it to your table now and clears his throat looking at you.

You peek up through your eyelashes before he starts saying something.

“Miss, the shop is about to close.” He says softly, looking into your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll clean up and get out of your way.” You replied back to him, starting to pack up your stuff into the your satchel. He nods at you as a thanks, but not before setting something on the table. Confused, you pick it up.

‘come to the shop on Sunday, 6 o’clock’

You think for a second, wondering why you might have gotten this. Then your brain clicks, the shop is closed on Sundays. Heat starts to rise to your face as you look over to the man again, he’s back behind the counter, back to you cleaning tea cups. You grabbed your satchel and walk over to the counter, this time your the one to clear your throat.

“Um, can I ask you your name sir?” You ask him politely. He turns around, cup and rag in hand.

“It’s Levi.” He responds, while still cleaning the cup. You nod your head at his response, shifting on your feet nervously.

“Can I ask why you left this note Levi.” You prompt him, saying his name with a soft tone. This time he sets the tea cup down and leaning on the counter slightly.

“Well I was hoping I could see the pretty girl thats always in my shop, but on her own.” He replied with a bit of red on his cheek as well. You hum at his answer, thinking about what you’re going to respond with. After a moment of silence Levi opens his mouth,

“If you’re not comfortable-“

“Ok, Mr. Levi.” You interrupt him before he can get his full sentence out. He stares at you for a second and nods his head.

“Ok then, I’ll see you sunday then?” He clarifies.

“I’ll see you on Sunday Mr.Levi.” You smile at him, a small blush on your face. You turn around and start to walk out the door, the little bell atop it chiming when it’s opened. You turn your head over your shoulder one last time and wave at him. Levi gives a small smile back, hands returning to clean tea cups. Walking out with a blush and a smile on your face you have one little thing on your mind now, nothing related to school work.

You have a date this Sunday.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #levi aot #aot x reader #post-war levi #livanswers #ily

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edosianorchids901 · 2 years

Text

Turn My Face to the Sun

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt "Promise you'll write"

The shop door jingled, and Aziraphale glanced up. Oh, not another customer. He’d had one this morning, an old chap interested in Aziraphale’s first editions. It had been awful.

But it wasn’t another customer. Crowley stepped inside and gave a little wave, then crammed his hands in his pockets. “Hey.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale abandoned his book at once and rushed across the shop. Oh, he’d been so lonely lately. Depressed, even, which was rather inappropriate for an angel. But with Crowley back, it was like the sun had come out again. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you.”

A wince pulled out Crowley’s features, and he held out a box. “Here, brought you some chocolates from Switzerland.”

“Oh! That’s lovely, my dear. Thank you.” Aziraphale took the box and smiled, but the clouds were already sliding back in. “What’s wrong, Crowley?”

“Hhhn, I’m…” Making a face, Crowley rocked his weight back and dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m not back, angel. Not for more than a few minutes, anyway. Got called back to Hell.”

Aziraphale sagged, as limp as a puppet with the strings cut. He sank into a chair, almost dropping his chocolates. “Oh.”

“Yeah, m’ really sorry.” Crowley sat as well. “It’ll probably be a week or two, hopefully not longer. Dagon’s putting on a training conference on ‘torments’.”

Alarmed, Aziraphale looked up. “On torments in the sense that… you’re learning to torment? Or to be tormented?”

Crowley gave a humorless smile. “I’ll be tormented by boredom for sure. I’m guessing we’ll all be crammed in a room with flickering lights and leaking pipes, watching shitty presentations.”

But what if that wasn’t it? What if Crowley was going back to Hell to be tortured?

Aziraphale rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe away tears without letting Crowley see. “Well, I hope that’s all it is. Um… promise you’ll write?”

Despite his best efforts, his voice broke. Crowley reached out, took his hand. “I will if I can. Dunno if I can figure out a safe way, though.”

“Please don’t fret about that, my dear.” Aziraphale sniffled and tried to smile. “I wasn’t serious. I don’t want you to be in danger.”

“Mhm.” Crowley rose, hesitated, and then pressed a light, sweet kiss to Aziraphale’s brow. “I’ll see you soon, angel.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand, then reluctantly released him. “Yes. See you soon.”

He kept the forced smile on his face until Crowley had left. Then he buried his face in his hands and wept. The clouds of depression had blotted out the sun.

---

He didn’t honestly expect a letter from Crowley, but each day without one made the darkness even more intense. It was ridiculous. He knew perfectly well that it wasn’t safe for Crowley to contact him from Hell, of all places.

But Aziraphale had been alone too often lately, and not even the company of his favorite Georgette Heyer novels could cheer him up. And he didn’t want human company either. He wanted Crowley.

He couldn’t have Crowley.

He ate some of the chocolates, but that didn’t lift his spirits for long. The sadness engulfed him, and soon he was struck by the urge to go to bed and stay there until his friend returned.

Which was odd, given that he almost never slept. But the urge kept getting stronger and stronger. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, nearly dozed as he tried to read his book.

Finally, he could resist it no longer. He set aside the book, curled up in his armchair, and fell asleep.

Unlike the last time he’d dozed off hundreds of years ago, though, he immediately plunged into a dream. The familiar sight of St. James’s Park greeted him, the grass, the paths, even ducks. The sun shone down bright, warm on his skin.

And, down the path on their usual bench, sat Crowley.

Aziraphale approached, smiling. “Well, at least I can be a bit less depressed in my dreams,” he remarked, more to himself than to his dream of Crowley.

“Well, I’d damn well hope so,” the dream Crowley snapped. “What took you so long? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days.”

Baffled, Aziraphale paused. “You… you’ve been… Crowley?”

The dream—Crowley—rolled his eyes. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses, Aziraphale now realized. “Yeah, it’s me. I dunno how long I can actually keep this up. Never done it before. I wasn’t really sure how to, y’know, get it started.”

Aziraphale approached and sank onto the bench. “This is… a dream visitation,” he said, trying out the concept. “You’re why I fell asleep!”

“Yep. Cool, huh?” Crowley flashed an awkward grin. “I wanted to write, but there really wasn’t a safe way. So I figured I’d give this a shot. If angels can do it, maybe demons can too.”

Tearing up, Aziraphale reached out. He touched Crowley’s cheek, tracing the familiar lines of his face. The clouds of despair parted a bit, and he smiled. “Oh, my dear. This is awfully kind of you.”

“M’ not kind,” Crowley grumbled. He shifted closer, wrapped his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders. “You seemed really sad, back at the shop. I figured that if I couldn’t write to you, this was the next best thing.”

“It’s much better than a letter.” Breathing more easily now, Aziraphale leaned into the comfortable embrace. “How are things in Hell?”

“Boring. Catastrophically boring.” Crowley hissed softly. “Lectures, mostly. Got a week to go. We’re getting a break right now, so I slipped off. M’ hiding in a closet right now.”

He flashed a grin, and Aziraphale giggled. “Very stealthy of you, my dear.”

Crowley snorted, then went on to describe the dull lectures. The familiar rhythms of his voice cheered Aziraphale immensely.

Aziraphale would look forward to Crowley’s actual return, of course. But for now, he simply closed his eyes, listened to his friend, and turned his face up to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

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darkicedragon · 2 years

Text

Fanfic: Bandages

Fandom: SK8 THE INFINITY Summary: There was something off about Kaoru. Notes: Werewolf!Kaoru Planned one version - ended up with two branching outlines, hah. This is the shorter version. I'll hopefully get started on the second version soon. Rating: PG Genre: General Word count: 4,336 Status: Complete There was something off about Kaoru. Kojiro kept an eye on him as he served customers around the restaurant. A deeper crease between the brows, his movements weren't as smooth, Kaoru's shoulders tense. Kaoru wasn't grumbling in his direction as he passed by with another plate either. Something was definitely up.

Kojiro finished preparing Kaoru's food and brought it over. "Here's your - you okay?" Barely visible under Kaoru's sleeve, Kojiro saw a flash of a bandage as Kaoru pushed his glasses up his nose. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here, idiot," Kaoru said, glowering at him, but it didn't have is usual sharpness to it. "Let me see." Kojiro leaned over and tugged the sleeve back. "Oi!" The bandage covered most of Kaoru's forearm and there were dots of dry blood in the centre, in the shape of half an oval where it almost ended off his arm. "Something bit you?" "A dog," Kaoru said, straightening his sleeve again. "It happened on the way home yesterday after S." Kojiro already knew that, because he would have noticed the change in bandages then (along with Kaoru's fanclub). "Your machine didn't alert you to it?" Kaoru took the bait, scowling at him. "Carla." It was good to know Kaoru felt himself enough to be annoyed by the usual needling; Kaoru hadn't been that badly hurt. "She knew the dog was there but I didn't ask and she only alerts me unprompted if there's an oncoming obstacle, not a dog chasing after me. I'd get constant notifications if she did." "Sounds like excuses," Kojiro said, his voice light, eyes tracing over what he could see of Kaoru's hand. "It'd like to see you do any better," Kaoru shot back, "but then I don't think a dog would consider attacking a gorilla." Kojiro grinned. That sounded more like Kaoru. Kaoru exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. "I'm fine, Kojiro," he murmured. "It wasn't deep and I didn't even need stitches. It's just sore." He paused for a few seconds, flexing his hand slowly. "I can still hold a brush and my balance isn't affected. I'm fine." "Good!" He clapped Kaoru on the shoulder, relief flooding him. Only a small scare. He turned his head to the sound of the front bell, seeing new customers come in. "I'll speak to you later," he said, giving Kaoru's shoulder a squeeze. "Yeah, yeah." * * * Kaoru didn't visit as often after work, but enough to let Kojiro know he wasn't developing an infection. At the next S, they met at the entrance like they usually would. "A new look?" Kojiro murmured as they made their way up. Both of Kaoru's forearms were covered in bandages up to the elbows - had both his arms been hurt? They were clean though, with no sign of blood. Kaoru snorted. "It would be more noticeable if only one arm was covered." He didn't speak as a couple other skaters passed by, music blasting. "And there's still some bruising." "Only?" That was fast. "I said it wasn't deep." Kaoru narrowed his eyes at him. "Do you need your ears cleaned or are they just blocked by muscle?" "Oh, are you saying you were bit by a chihuahua?" Kojiro elbowed Kaoru's side, Kaoru pushing back. "It was bigger than that! Enough to knock me over." "I think you need your prescription rechecked." Kojiro jumped over Kaoru's kick, grinning at Kaoru's scowl. "For weight?" They continued bickering as they made their way to the start of the race. * * * "You didn't have to stay behind," Kojiro said as he lifted the chairs onto the tables. The last customers of Sia la Luce had just left and he and Kaoru were cleaning up, Carla playing some of Kaoru's music. Kaoru glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, carrying over the mop and bucket. "I've done it before." "Yeah, but..." "It was weeks ago. The bruises are gone now." "You didn't inject yourself with nanomachines now, have you?" It was barely two weeks - it had completely healed already? "Hah. It would help interfacing with Carla faster, but no." Kaoru pulled back his sleeve, revealing only pale scars across his skin. Kojiro reached over, tracing the scars. They were only slightly raised to the touch and not warmer than Kaoru usually was. The bite mark was wider the Kojiro's palm, almost going off the other side of Kaoru's arm. "Fine," Kojiro said, letting go, "it was a mutant chihuahua." Kaoru nailed him in the ribs hard enough to prove he hadn't lost any of his strength in his arm. * * * Things were back to normal for a couple of weeks, until Kojiro caught Kaoru scowling in Sia la Luce again. "You didn't get bitten by another dog, did you?" he asked as he placed Kaoru's order in front of him. There didn't seem to be any bandages in sight as far as Kojiro could tell. "No," Kaoru said, running a hand through his hair. "A growing headache." "You have been getting dragged around from event to event recently." It was a surprise he even saw Kaoru during the week. "It's quietening down again soon but..." Kaoru sighed again, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Not soon enough. It already feels like it's getting worse." "Then go home, dumbass. I'll catch you later." Kaoru didn't have to be here if he wasn't feeling well. "What," Kaoru growled, "you're going to throw me out just after serving me my food?" "I can make it take-out, if that gets you home faster." Kojiro reached for Kaoru's plate. Kaoru was faster, fan slapping Kojiro's hand away as he yanked his plate further away with his other hand. "You're going to drop it!" "Then let me eat it!" * * * It had been a few days since Kojiro had seen Kaoru, not since Kaoru had almost tipped his plate onto the floor. They'd exchanged a few texts, but nothing too in depth. Kojiro checked the night sky as he locked up. It looked clear enough, the full moon shining, and he patted his bag, making sure it still contained the food he'd packed in it. If Kaoru was sick, he probably wasn't eating well either, so he'd drop off some food just in case. It was late enough that it didn't take long to reach Kaoru's house and as he pulled up, his phone vibrated. [Don't come in.] From Kaoru. The message made Kojiro smile, glancing up at the windows. Kaoru was well enough to be up at least, but as far as he could tell, none of the lights were on. Probably seen him on one of the cameras. Kojiro let himself in and all the lights were off. The only thing illuminating the room was Carla, who was resting in her usual place, flashing softly. He set the food on the counter and went over. "Empty...?" he murmured, crouching next to her. Just enough energy for the warning it seemed like. Her plug was next to the outlet, like it had fallen out of place. "He'll whine if he found out you were out of juice," Kojiro said, plugging her in. He'd had enough of that already and Kaoru was inconsolable until Carla was responsive again. "I brought food," he called out as he stood up again. "Do you want it now or do I leave it in the fridge?" He knew what the answer would be though and he went over to where he left the food, starting to unpack. Kojiro froze when a low growl answered him instead from the direction of Kaoru's bedroom. Kaoru didn't have a dog. He wouldn't dogsit either; he hated fur and other things that could potentially clog Carla's hardware. A clatter of paws on the floor racing closer and Kojiro threw himself to the side, the animal slamming itself into the counter. Too big to be a dog. The wrong shape. The limbs too long, paws too big. Kojiro got that much before he was getting a close up of the animal's fangs as it snapped at his face, saliva flying as Kojiro held it back by its neck to stop it closing its jaws around his head. He winced as its claws scrabbled against him, his shoulders burning. It didn't feel too deep. Now, at least. Straining, he pushed the animal away from him, hearing the scrape of wood as the animal dug its claws into the floor next to him. It gave him enough breathing room to see the pink fur shining in the moonlight coming in from the window. The gold eyes glaring at him. "Kaoru?" he blurted out, even though it made no sense, except it was the only thing that did. The animal -wolf? The snout was canine-like- pulled back, ears flicking up. Only for a second, the growl reverberating from their chest again. "Jeez, even as a werewolf you glare the same, Kaoru." That was a good thing, right? That if this was Kaoru, he was still acting like himself. Just. A bit more bitey. If Kaoru lunged at him again, he should be able to catch him in a better hold, but after that, Kojiro wasn't sure what he could do. There was nothing within reach that he could use to restrain Kaoru. The ears pricked up again, for longer. Reacting to his name, or Kojiro's voice? Whatever, so long as Kaoru was reacting and not trying to bite his head off. "You're just as aggressive like that too." Kaoru leaned in, sniffing heavily and Kojiro grunted, easing his hold. "If you're going to recognise me by scent..." It was almost cliche, and he didn't think Kaoru would know what Kojiro smelled like, unless it was more the scent of Sia la Luce. Kojiro's thoughts drifted as Kaoru continued to sniff him. It was a full moon tonight, and Kaoru had been bitten by a dog a couple of weeks ago. A month ago? A werewolf...? The fur on top of Kaoru's head was just as long as it normally was, and Kojiro slowly ran a hand through it. He got a twitch from an ear from that, but that was all. Kaoru's hair was a bit coarser than usual, thicker. Other than that, it felt the same. Kaoru nosed at Kojiro's torn shirt, and Kojiro sucked in a breath at the wet nose against the scratches. Kaoru jerked back at that, glancing at him. "It's...fine...?" Maybe? Was he going to be a werewolf too? Kaoru hadn't bitten him, and Kaoru had only mentioned being bitten, not scratched. He watched when Kaoru lifted up a paw - or a hand? It had the pads like a paw, but the digits were longer, enough that Kaoru could peel away the rest of Kojiro's shirt to reveal his tattoo. A whine replaced the silence and Kaoru attacked the wounds with his tongue with as much force as he did before. "Oof, hey!" Kaoru was definitely heavier like this and Kojiro had less room to move his arms. Okay. Definitely not attacking him anymore. "Good to know you're still there, Kaoru," Kojiro said, bracing an arm against Kaoru's chest and pushing him back, "but you probably shouldn't do that." Who knew what could happen. Kaoru growled at him, glaring again. "Yeah, yeah, I know you don't like being told what to do." He continued the pressure as he sat up, and Kaoru did step back, his growls more like grumbling. "We don't know how this happened, so for now, no kissing my wounds better." An ear flick, Kaoru studying him. Once Kojiro was sitting up properly, he looped an arm around Kaoru's shoulders and pulled him into his lap, Kaoru letting him. "This is fine for now, okay?" he murmured as Kaoru twisted around to press into his chest. "Just no licking." "Hrrr." Kaoru huffed, and then took up as much space as he could across Kojiro's lap. Yeah, that was Kaoru all right. They stayed like that for a while, Kaoru not moving as Kojiro ran his hand through Kaoru's fur. What could he do? It wasn't like this was a broken bone and he could drive to the hospital. Kaoru would bite him if he went to find a vet too. Kaoru didn't seem like he was in pain anyway. Just. A little different. If it wasn't for the way he looked, Kojiro would have thought he was mostly the same. Just. Without vocal chords. Or even trying to talk. He missed Kaoru's voice. He hadn't heard it for days already, and now... He might not again? Kaoru shifted, looking up at him, whining. "Heh, you can always tell how I feel..." It wasn't much use trying to hide that. "It should just be a couple more hours." If what he remembered was true. He was sure he hadn't heard about any other dog attacks in the past month, so the other werewolf had to have changed back after the full moon. "Okay, that's enough thinking for now. Are you hungry? I brought-" Kaoru rolled to his feet, eyes zeroing in on the food Kojiro had left on the counter. Kojiro couldn't help but grin at Kaoru's reaction. A bit later than expected, but he was still right about what Kaoru wanted. He checked the counter but it didn't look like it had been slammed into a couple minutes earlier. The container was still in place. "Whew, we're lucky it didn't get knocked over in the tussle." He opened the container, presenting it to Kaoru. Kaoru sniffed at it, but didn't start eating. "You don't like it?" That couldn't be right - it was Kaoru's favourite. Kaoru raised his head to glare at him, and Kojiro recognised that look. "Right, right, I'll get a plate," he muttered, putting the container down. He could just hear Kaoru grumbling about not eating like a barbarian. "I'm not sure if you can use cutlery right now, though?" Kaoru did have thumbs, which were easily seen when Kaoru sat at his spot at the table, his hands splayed out in front of him. When Kojiro placed the plate in front of him, Kaoru picked up the fork. He dropped it a few times, growling afterwards, his ears flat, and Kojiro was on the verge of offering to feed him but Kaoru was able to do it. Slower than usual, like he was figuring out where his hands were, what his snout did, but he still did it. Kaoru's ears pricked up at the first bite, his tail wagging hard enough to slap into Kojiro. "Huh, as much as the transformation was a surprise-" Understatement. "-I have to say it also makes you a hell of a lot easier to read." Kaoru was easy to read anyway, but there were some things he acted certain ways about, such as how much he really enjoyed Kojiro's cooking. Kaoru paused, his eyes narrowing at Kojiro. "Hm?" Kaoru pointedly looked down at the empty space in front of Kojiro. "I brought the food for you because I thought you were ill - it's just one serving." Kaoru growled, ears flicking flat again. "How was I supposed to know you turned into a werewolf? And I ate already before I came here, so I don't need it. It's all yours." It almost felt normal. Kaoru said one thing, but his body language said something else. His body was a bit different from usual, but it was still him. Kaoru grabbed one side of the plate, pushing it towards Kojiro. Kojiro stopped it when it got halfway. "I brought it for you - I thought you said I was the one who needed my ears cleaned." Did Kaoru remember that conversation like this? "You should need to eat even more after what's happened." Kaoru had almost just doubled his weight so he needed whatever food he could get. Kaoru huffed, pushing for a few more seconds before he allowed Kojiro to slide the plate back in front of him. It didn't take too long for Kaoru to finish, his movements getting faster as time went on. When he was done, he placed the fork down and slunk to Kojiro's side, curling up against him. "Time for bed?" Kaoru yawned, displaying rows of sharp teeth. He grumbled when Kojiro stood up. "I'll just clean up first." Kaoru grumbled again, following him as he washed the plate. Kaoru walked on all fours, but it wasn't quite level, his chest higher than the rest of him. Which he put to good use constantly, almost headbutting Kojiro in the side every once in a while. "Yes, I know you're impatient, Princess, but you'll also whine at me if I just left everything lying there. One more minute." Kaoru almost pushed Kojiro into the bedroom, resting his head on Kojiro's chest once they were in bed. Kojiro wrapped an arm around Kaoru's shoulders, fingers playing with Kaoru's hair as he heard Kaoru drift off. He had been tired when he'd first arrived, but now he knew he wouldn't sleep. Not for a while, if at all tonight. He had to just hope that Kaoru would transform back... * * * Kaoru woke up warm. Too warm. He frowned. His pillow was breathing. He jerked up, and blinked down at Kojiro, who just grinned and grabbed him, pulling him into a tight hug. "The hell are you doing in my bed, you overton gorilla?" He hadn't been that sick to not notice Kojiro coming in, let alone getting into his bed, had he? Apparently he had, since he had no memory of last night. "Hey, you're the one who pushed me into it," Kojiro said into Kaoru's shoulder. Kaoru opened his mouth to retort but stopped short. Kojiro was trembling. "Kojiro...?" It couldn't be because Kojiro was cold - the man was a furnace most of the time. "What's wrong?" "I came over with food last night since I thought you might need it, and you attacked me because you were a werewolf." Kaoru pulled back to stare at him. "I don't think I'm the one who's sick - you must have been delirious last night." Yes, he was naked but he'd had a fever. It was gone now, and the headache and bony aches were gone too. He must have just needed the rest. Kojiro scoffed. "Yeah? Then look at my shirt and tell me you think I was imagining things." His shi-? Kojiro's top was torn at the shoulder, the rips long enough to reveal his tattoo. "You could have done that just by flexing too hard," Kaoru muttered under his breath. But. It looked wrong. The rips weren't along the seams, and when Kaoru pulled some of the strips away, they revealed long gashes across Kojiro's skin. "Were you attacked by a dog this time?" "I was attacked by you!" Kojiro sighed. "Whatever. I'm just glad you're back." He pulled Kaoru into another tight hug, and seemed to fall asleep instantly. Had he stayed up the entire night? It would explain why he wasn't making any sense. Kaoru checked the wounds again. Four slash marks, but when he put his fingers to them, they were too wide for his fingers to reach. "Definitely his imagination." But something had still attacked Kojiro, that much was true. And those wounds needed tended to. Kaoru got out of bed, searching for his clothes. There was a pile of them on the floor. When he picked them up, it was what he'd been wearing yesterday. They were torn apart, like an animal had used them as a scratching post. He dropped them. No. It could have just meant - Kojiro wasn't one for pranks, especially anything that would involve anything being destroyed. And Kojiro was still injured. He had to deal with that first. Kaoru got as far as his bedroom door before he stopped, seeing the claw marks gouged through the floor. That... Everything else in the room seemed to be in order, which made the claw marks stand out even more. Carla was glowing in the corner, and he wasn't sure if he'd remembered to charge her. The glow intensified. "Master." "Yes, Carla?" It wasn't often she spoke unprompted. He couldn't take his eyes off the gouges and he knelt down next to one. The claw marks were closer together here, almost matching the spacing between his fingers. "I must apologise, Master." Apologise? "I used your number to text Nanjo Kojiro to try to keep him away." "You - why?" Except he already knew why. "I was unsure how you would react in that state, Master." Kaoru opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. He knew, but he wasn't sure if he wanted the confirmation. He closed his eyes and exhaled. No. He couldn't run away. "Show me, Carla." "Yes, Master." The projector whirred to life, displaying on the wall. It was him in his bedroom, stumbling out of bed, a growl already evident, his face curled into a snarl. He pulled at his clothes, and when they didn't come off, he fell to his knees, shuddering. Second by second, he changed, growing bigger, fur rippling out across his skin. As soon as claws appeared, he tore his clothes off. Even by then, there wasn't much left that was human left to see. "Shit..." He'd...changed? He really was a werewolf? He sucked in a breath when something was draped over his shoulders. Arms went around his waist and lifted him up. There was only one person who would do that. "I thought you were asleep." "I was," Kojiro said, setting him down again, but didn't let go, resting his head on Kaoru's shoulder. "You disappeared. I just wanted to check you hadn't ran off." "Not without clothes on, in the very least," Kaoru muttered under his breath as he slipped his arms through the yukata that Kojiro had brought over. "You transformed back - that's what matters." "It... Is." It was a good point, though it still didn't change the fact he was apparently a werewolf. "What if I attack you again?" Would this happen only once a month, or was he affected in other ways? "I'll just have to work on getting you to recognise me faster next time." Kaoru elbowed him lightly for that. "Idiot." Putting himself in danger like that. Kojiro chuckled, arms tightening again. "Your idiot though." Kaoru sagged back against him, exhaling. Yes, he was. "What are you doing out of bed anyway?" "I was going to get something for your injuries, but..." Kaoru's eyes drifted back to the slashes on the floor. "I got distracted." "They're not that bad, and you didn't bite me." That made Kaoru wince. He'd still hurt Kojiro. "Hey. That's a good thing." Kojiro turned him around so Kaoru could see his easy smile. "You recognised me like that." "Of course I would." Kaoru sighed, leaning into Kojiro. "I would have really lost my mind if I forgot you." He'd known Kojiro too long and too well to lose all that in some supernatural transformation. Kojiro's chuckled reverberated through his entire chest. "I'm glad you're back, Kaoru." "Yeah..." They would have to figure out what they needed to do to make sure he stayed back. Kaoru pulled back. "That's enough delaying - your wounds need to be seen to." It must have been a couple of hours already since it had happened. "Sure, sure." Kojiro looped an arm around Kaoru's shoulders and while Kaoru wasn't holding up all of Kojiro's weight, he could hear Kojiro dragging his feet. Once the first aid kit was collected and Kojiro had stripped out his shirt as they sat on the floor, Kaoru could get a proper look at the damage. The slashes were just across Kojiro's shoulder, not close enough to touch his tattoo. They were superficial, already sealed with no fresh blood. Kaoru cleaned them anyway, Kojiro dozing off as he worked. "Don't..." Kojiro yawned. "Don't think I'll need bandages for these." Kaoru eyed them. "And as soon as you flex again, you'll open them up." "I don't fl-" Another yawn. "-flex that often." That made Kaoru snort. "You don't think so because you're at the stage where you flex without thinking. Now sit up so I can bandage them." Kojiro did as he was told, holding still enough that Kaoru finished bandaging him quickly. Once he was done, he paused, making sure the bandages were taut and secure. "Kaoru?" He sighed, leaning forward to press his head to Kojiro's uninjured shoulder. "Thank you..." For being there, for staying there, for checking on him. So many things could have happened, but it was much easier to deal with with Kojiro there. "You would do the same, you AI maniac," Kojiro said, cupping the back of Kaoru's head, his other hand drawing him closer. "Hmph. I would have a harder time trying to subdue your muscle-bound bulk." "Eh, I think one of your kicks would still be be enough." "I'd rather not find out." It hadn't been a bite - maybe that would be enough. Kaoru got to his feet, Kojiro getting up on his own, though he continued leaning on Kaoru as they made their way to Kaoru's bedroom. Kojiro was asleep before he even hit the bed, but Kaoru lay next to him, the events of the night -that he could remember- running through his mind. He ran his fingers over his own scars, tracing the shape of them. For the most part, he hadn't felt any different during the month except from the lead-up to the full moon. Kojiro had already been scratched several hours ago and hadn't shown any adverse effect to it. Staying up wouldn't make any difference. But Kaoru might do that, just for his own peace of mind.

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sakurayashiki kaoru #nanjo kojiro #fanfic

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Drabble#3)

Summary: You have yet to tell Jungkook your big news and he might not take it so well.

Pairing: Always You!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: Angst!!! Smut!!! And fluff too hehe

Word count: 7.3k (I am SO sorry)

Warnings: sad Jungkook, jealous oc, panic attack, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, cum eating, scratching, marking, overstimulation, mentions of anal (sorry if I forgot any)

Notes: sorry this is long for a drabble! I actually managed to get it down to 7k wooo. Also pls don’t be that mad at oc:) hehe. Make sure to send an ask if you want to chat:) ily guys

Taglist: @seagulljk

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The record shop is busier than usual this evening…Yoongi has tried his best to stop by yours and Taehyung’s table to chat but another customer keeps walking in one after the other. You chuckle, waving him off, telling him to work.

“And Jungkook doesn’t know?” Taehyung frowns at you, “Like, this is huge y/n. And you haven’t told him?”

“Not yet, at least.” You admit, bringing your coffee mug to your lips. “I’m going to have to eventually though right…”

“Who else doesn’t know?”

“Everyone knows actually.”

“Oh girl, that’s not good.”

“What do you mean?” you bring the coffee mug back to the table, your fingers strumming the side of the mug.

“You’re telling me he is the last to know? That’s just…not going to sit right with him and you know that.”

Fuck, he’s right. Jungkook is your best friend, your boyfriend, the man you live with, the man you love…and he has no idea you’re about to move to another country. You got accepted to work in Japan for a year and you could not be more excited. But there’s this huge weight on your entire body, the weight equal to one man.

“I know, shit, but I just can’t. He’s going to act so supportive but I know how disappointed he will be. I mean, we just started living together recently you know? Our relationship is going so nicely and I don’t want to ruin that.” You rant, a frown pulling down your lips.

“I finally finished with my last customer.” You hear Yoongi walk up to your little corner of the record shop. “What are we talking about?” he pulls up his chair and sits down.

“y/n still hasn’t told Jungkook about Japan.”

“Still?” Yoongi looks disappointed to say the least. “y/n…”

“Guys, I know!” you throw your hands up, “I’m fucking up.”

“Wait, do the others know that Jungkook doesn’t know?”

“I didn’t necessarily announce that it’s a secret…” you bite your bottom lip, worry filling your body, “And he’s with Jin, Namjoon and Hobi tonight.”

“You should text them and tell them.”

“But it’s not the first time he’s hanging around them since I told them…so maybe I just don’t come up in conversation?” you respond hopefully.

“Yeah, not likely. Jungkook always finds a way to talk about you.” Tae grumbles. “Trust us, we would know.”

“Yeah, he’s right.” Yoongi agrees, “Listen, you need to tell him before he finds out from someone else.”

“I’ll tell him…” you pick up your mug and take a sip, “Tonight.”

~~~~~~

Your apartment is dark and there’s no sign of life—Jungkook must still be out with the guys. You sigh in relief because although you said you would tell him tonight you are already chickening out. You know, you know. A cowards move. But honestly, it’s hard!

Right as you think you’re in the clear, you hear the front door opening from behind you. Jungkook is whistling some tune as he walks in and he lights up when he sees you.

“Baby.” He sings out, walking closer to you. “Hi.” He says before leaning down and pecking your lips.

“Hi, how was your night?” you ask as you slip off your shoes and head towards the bedroom.

“It was nice.” Jungkook continues to whistle, “How was yours? How are Tae and Yoongi? Anything new?”

“No, just the usual.” You shimmy out of your pants and slip off your shirt, leaving you in some panties and a bralette. You walk out of your room and into the bathroom to turn on the shower. The water is cold but is quickly heating up as you turn the knob, you enjoy how hot it’s getting.

“Should I join you?” You hear Jungkook say from behind you. He snakes his arms around your waist and kisses your neck.

“If you want babe.”

“I want you to want me to.” He pouts, “So, I’ll ask again…should I join you?”

You can’t help but giggle, turning around in his grasp and pulling at his shirt.

“Yes, please.” You say as he lifts his arms up for you to lift his shirt off. You eye your boyfriend over, his muscles look so strong and honestly? Did they get bigger? He has been hitting the gym more. His tattoos cover one of his arms and it’s such a sexy sight. You trace your fingers over his body art and he smiles down at you.

“Like what you see?”

“You know I do.” You breathe out and he reaches behind you and unclasps your bra.

“I like what I see too.” He says as your breasts are freed. “God, I love your tits.”

“The water is probably ready.” You smirk, sliding your panties down. Jungkook’s eyes follow your movement, he watches as the panties get dragged down leg by leg.

“Then let’s get in.” He’s taking off his own pants and boxers in one go, leaving him completely naked for you.

The two of you step in the shower, letting the hot water wash over your entire bodies. He lets you go under first as he squirts some shampoo in his palm.

“C’mere.” He commands. You step out from under the water and he massages the shampoo into your scalp, creating a bubbly mess. Then you go back under to rinse, this continues for the conditioner as well and then he’s soon washing your body with body wash, making sure he gets every corner and crevice of your body. Then you do the same for him, he loves when you wash his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp has him groaning.

“Missed you tonight.” He says quietly, “You missed me?”

“When am I not missing you?” you lean up to kiss him. He doesn’t let you lean away though as he leans in further to kiss you deeper. The water dribbles down your faces as you two have your lips moving quickly against one another. He nips at your bottom lip before his tongue tangles with yours, you moan into his mouth and he swallows it.

“Gonna fuck you?” he asks impatiently. His hard cock slipping between your folds as he grinds into you.

“Yes.” You respond breathlessly. “Yes.”

~~~~~~~

You slip on one of Jungkook’s t shirts and a fresh pair of panties and slide into bed. You find yourself in your boyfriends strong, warm arms. You lay your head down on his chest and listen to his heart beat. It’s racing. Why?

“Jungkook—”

“So anything new?” Jungkook cuts you off, his heart doing a million things.

You’re quiet for a few moments before you speak up again.

“Nope.”

You hear Jungkook sigh out heavily…then he’s moving from beneath you and getting up to turn on the lamp.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure?” You sit up on your elbows, confusion drawn on your face.

“y/n…” you hear him softly warn, “I’m giving you a chance to tell me.”

“Tell you what? I have nothing to tell you?”

That’s the moment you think you can physically see Jungkook’s heart break in his chest. His face falls dramatically as a frown takes over.

“Nothing at all?” he asks quietly and that’s when you know. He knows.

“What are you talking about, Jungkook?” you decide to say instead of the truth and his face twists into a look of disappointment.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he looks down at his hands, “That you are apparently fucking moving? To japan?”

You feel yourself go pale.

“I—”

“I have known for a few weeks.” Jungkook admits, “I’ve been giving you time to tell me but it came up again tonight…and I just couldn’t wait anymore. But it seems like you were never going to tell me.” He grits out. “Were you?” His voice is pleading now. “y/n, were you just going to leave without saying anything?”

“What? No! Of course not!” you rush to say, “I just—”

“And you told literally everyone else except for me. Why am I the last to know? Shouldn’t I have been the first person you told? Didn’t you want to like, discuss it with me first? Or did you just make the decision immediately that you’re moving there without even considering me?” he sounds so pained, like speaking isn’t something he excels at.

“Jungkook, what do you mean discuss it with you? It’s my decision,”

He looks at you incredulously, his eyes wetting with tears.

“Of course its your decision at the end of the day but we should still have discussed it! We live together, we are planning a future together!” he cries out. “Or were you going to break up with me?”

“What?! Jungkook no—”

“Maybe that would be for the best, you can’t even tell me something like this—”

“Jungkook stop.” You feel your eyes gloss over, and a few tears slide down your face. “Don’t even talk about breaking up.”

“Why not?” He spits out, “You don’t even tell me shit or consider me in the big things in your life.”

“That’s not true…” you cry. “I was just scared. I thought you would be more supportive…”

“The problem isn’t Japan, y/n.” Jungkook states. “It’s the fact that you couldn’t even tell me about it or discuss it with me. We can make this work but you didn’t even give me a chance to try.” Tears prick his eyes as he speaks and you feel yourself go numb. You fucked up, you should have told him…but you don’t think either way would have been easy.

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Wait! No…” you grab for his hand and he exhales deeply.

“Let go of me, y/n.”

“No.” you say, your stubbornness taking over. “No.”

“Why not?” he asks, using his other hand to wipe at his face.

“I love you Jungkook, and I’m sorry.”

“I love you too, y/n. But I’m mad.” He says, tugging his hand away from you. “I need some space.”

~~~~~

“Space?” Jimin asks with a frown, “Don’t you leave in like a month? Isn’t space the last thing you guys should have?”

“You’d think so. But it’s been 5 days Jimin.” You take a swig of your beer and wince at the bitter flavor. “He’s pissed.”

“And he has every right to be, babe.” Jimin points out, “Full offense but you fucked up.”

“I know…” you tug on your hair, “Last time I gave him space he didn’t talk to me for three months…” you say, worry laced in your voice. “How do I know he won’t disappear on me again?” you choke out, “That would fucking crush me. I need to talk to him.”

“I know where he’s at tonight.” Jimin admits softly, “Should we go?”

You nod your head as Jimin stands up and grabs his keys, he walks towards the front door and glances over at you.

“Coming?”

“Yes.”

You and Jimin pull up to some bar downtown, it’s in a shadier part of town and you wonder how Jungkook ended up in a place like this. You guys get inside and see Jungkook and Taehyung sitting at the bar with 3 girls surrounding them. You can’t help the way your chest tightens at the sight. Jimin looks over at you and offers you a soft smile.

“They come here to talk to girls?” you bitterly question.

“Does it look like Jungkook is even sparing one of them a glance? He just came with Tae.” Jimin defends and you roll your eyes, you still can’t help but feel irritated.

Jungkook sits here at the bar with a whiskey, taking sip after sip. He looks tired to say the least, he looks plain tired. He doesn’t even notice you coming up to them, he just takes another sip of his drink.

“Why doesn’t your friend talk?” One of the girls slurs out, “I want to talk to him.”

“Oh him?” Taehyung points at Jungkook, “He has a….y/n.” his eyes widen when he spots you.

“A y/n?” the girl asks, clearly confused.

“Yes, a me.” You say harshly, “His girlfriend.”

Jungkook hears your voice and sighs out, setting his drink down. He slowly turns in his bar stool to face you, his tired face becoming even more tired.

“What are you doing here?” he slurs out. “I said I needed space.”

“So you two are broken up then?” the girl asks, “Don’t call yourself his girlfriend—”

“She is my girlfriend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I just needed some time to think.”

“Oh? With all these girls around?” you spit out. “This what you do when you need space?” You place your hands on your hips. “Talk to other girls?”

Jungkook looks at you like you’ve lost your mind, he shakes his head with a frown,

“Does it look like I’m talking to them?” he asks you, incredulously.

“It’s been 5 days Jungkook, how much space do you need? Need another three months?” he hears your voice crack as you speak and he feels himself deflate.

“Baby, I wouldn’t—”

“You wouldn’t do that?” You ask, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, “You’ve done it before.”

Jungkook stands from his bar stool and walks towards you, grabs your hand and leads you outside.

“Let’s go home.” He says softly, “We can talk.”

Jungkook pulls out his phone and orders an uber. The ride gets here within 5 minutes…you two stay silent the whole ride over to your apartment.

Once the uber pulls up to your apartment, Jungkook takes your hand and interlocks your fingers as you two exit the vehicle.

The walk up to the apartment is only a couple minutes, those are silent as well. He keeps his tight grip on your hand though, never letting go.

“We’re home.” Jungkook whispers when you two get inside. “We should drink some water.”

You nod your head in agreeance, heading towards the kitchen. Jungkook follows behind you, he watches your figure as you stumble forward. He exhales a deep, deep breath and rolls his eyes. You’re a little more tipsy than he first thought and he thought he was sort of drunk.

“y/n…maybe we should just get some sleep…”

“No, you said we were going to talk!” You yell out over your shoulder as you reach for two glasses for water. You grab the pitcher from the fridge and pour you and Jungkook a glass. He comes up behind you, and takes a glass and begins drinking it back slowly.

“I still think we should sleep on it tonight—”

“Oh? You on the couch? And me alone in the room?” you spit out, “That’s how we’re going to ‘sleep’ on it?”

“Alright, you obviously want to talk—”

“Yeah, no fucking shit.”

“Hey…” Jungkook winces, “You don’t have to cuss at me.” He says softly, “Let’s just talk.”

“How long were you going to go without talking to me, hm?”

“Maybe as long as you didn’t tell me about Japan?” Jungkook snaps. He doesn’t mean to snap, of course. But he’s starting to become frustrated. You look at him with shocked eyes, feeling guilty all of the sudden. Maybe you deserved that.

“Jungkook I said I’m sorry—”

“Maybe sorry isn’t good enough.” He grits out, “You kept something so important from me, and didn’t even think it was something we should discuss together. As a couple…as a team.”

You breathe out, trying to calm yourself, the guilt beginning to eat you alive. As a team?

“I was serious…” he begins, his chest starting to heave. “We can make it work if you’re wanting to go abroad. But y/n you have to actually tell me so we can seriously discuss it.” His pained expression feels like a stab to the gut. “Because I won’t lie to you…this isn’t going to be easy for me. I’m so…” he chokes up, “I’m so attached to you.” He finishes with a hard gulp. His eyes stinging with tears, “I’m so in love with you that I don’t know how I can physically be without you.”

“Jungkook…” you stand here with your own tears threatening to fall. “You can be without—”

“No!” he cries out, “I don’t think so.”

“You’re stronger than you think, baby.” You walk closer to him and he falls forward into your arms, you catch him and try your best to hold him up as he starting sobbing into your neck.

“N-No.” he chokes on his sobs, “P-Please don’t-please don’t…don’t leave me.” He manages to cry out between harsh breaths. “I need you.”

Your heart cracks and breaks into maybe tens of millions of pieces, then those pieces manage to get even more crushed. So, this wasn’t just about you not telling him…this goes deeper than that.

“Baby, I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’m yours forever.” You remind him softly, caressing his back as he continues to weep. “We would make plans to see each other every few months, remember?”

“You—you want to l-leave me.” He cries harder into your shoulder making you screw your eyes shut so your own tears don’t spill over.

“Baby that’s not—”

“Why am I never good enough to make the people I love stay?” he whispers, his quiet sobs taking a toll on his tired body. Your eyes go wide at his comment…this is much, much deeper than you thought.

“Jungkook…” you whisper his name over and over, trying to calm him. Your hand massages his scalp and he continues to cry.

You don’t know what to say at this point…you don’t think any words you can say will work…will comfort him. Only ‘okay I won’t go’ but you can’t…you can’t say that. Because it would be a lie. You’ve already made your decision and that’s that you are going. You’ve already accepted and made the arrangements to fly out, you’ve already been placed in an apartment, everything is already done. And yes, you feel bad. Awful actually but this is something you really want to do, for you. You want this, you need this. And you hope Jungkook will become more understanding. You know he will…he’s just drunk and emotional right now. But you can tell these are his real feelings.

“Do you still love me?” Jungkook chokes out and your face twists into a frown. This is it, you finally cry. His unsureness breaks you.

“What are you talking about?” you let a few tears stream down your face, “I love you more than anything, anyone.” You hug him tighter, your arms becoming sore from how hard you’re holding on to him.

“Then don’t leave.” He begs into your neck and you fall to your knees, bringing him down with you. You feel so fucking conflicted.

“Baby.” You cry out, “Please understand.”

Jungkook shakes as he cries, like he’s beginning to hyperventilate. He tries to speak but only harsh, quick breaths leave his open mouth. He brings his head back and he looks at you panicked, like he can’t breathe.

“Okay, calm down, calm down.” You whisper, rubbing his back. “Breathe, my love. Breathe.”

Jungkook shuts his eyes and shakes his head, he is struggling to find that breath. He continues to breathe out quickly, panic rising.

“In and out, in and out.” You continue to rub his back, “I’m here my love, I’m here.”

Jungkook tries his hardest to take a deep breath but it’s so hard, so fucking hard. He opens his eyes and they scream for you, they are wide and pleading and you feel so fucking heartbroken.

“Come on, in and out…that’s it Jungkook. In and out.” He follows your instructions, trying his best to breathe in and out as steadily as possible. He finally manages to calm down only for him to break down even more…he closes his eyes and starts crying harder this time.

“Jungkook.” Your voice cracks, “Please calm down.” You feel yourself becoming more and more anxious as well.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You whisper out over and over until he’s quieting down. You don’t stop though, you continue to repeat the words until his breathing sounds stable again. You don’t stop caressing his back either, you just continue to do what you can to comfort him.

“I know you do.” Jungkook finally whimpers out. “I know you do. I’m sorry.” He sniffles into your neck. “I’m sorry.” His voice breaks and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Don’t be sorry baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I do.” He says a little more calmly. “I shouldn’t try to make you stay. If you want to go…then that’s what you want and I want to be nothing be supportive of what you want.”

“It’s not because I don’t want to be with you Jungkook. I wish you could just quit your job and come with me, to be honest. But I know I can’t ask you to do that.” You rub his back some more. Jungkook lifts himself off your shoulder and looks into your eyes.

“I know.” He sighs out, “I know. It’s just…it’s just for a year, right?” his big doe eyes bore into yours.

“Just a year babe.” You promise, “And I will see you every few months, and we will talk every day.”

Jungkook nods his head and tries to smile for you but it’s tense and strained and you frown again.

“It’ll be fun when you come to visit me…” you try to lighten the mood. “Imagine all the food we will try and all the sights we will see.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook tries smiling again, this time it’s a little more relaxed.

“And all the sex we will have in a different country?” you playfully wiggle your brows and Jungkook laughs while sniffling.

“I will kiss you in every famous spot in Japan.” Jungkook offers, “And we’re going to take a million pictures. And you will video chat with me every single day, right?”

“Every single day.” You repeat, “And you won’t be alone,” you remind him, “You have the guys, our friends. They’re just as much as family…”

“Yeah, I know.” He sniffles again, “I know.”

“I really am sorry for not telling you first…I was just so scared…I knew you would be disappointed…”

“Baby, I’m not like, entirely disappointed. I am also really happy for you. I’m just a bit sad for selfish reasons.” He admits. “I got so emotional…”

“You don’t think I would ever leave you, right? That you are 100% good enough. You are the love of my life, Jungkook.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that.” He sighs out. “I’m sorry for what I said…I was just…” he begins to get choked up again and you immediately caress his cheek.

“I know. You don’t have to explain…” you whisper. “We’re going to be okay.”

“More than okay.” He smiles at you with his brows pulled together. “Right?”

“Right.” You lean in and your lips meet his. You kiss him over a few times, and he lazily kisses you back.

“Let’s go to bed?” you begin to stand up, taking Jungkook’s heavy body with you.

“Okie.” He nods his head and follows you into the bedroom. “Take my clothes off for me.” He raises his arms above his head and waits patiently.

You chuckle at the sight but agree nonetheless. You walk to him and lift his shirt up, throwing it to the side. Then you are unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants, dragging them down his legs. He lifts one leg at a time as you slip them off…you’re dropped to your knees as you take them off his body.

“While I’m down here…maybe I could…” you play with the elastic of his briefs and he can’t help but chuckle.

“We can just go to sleep…” he offers shyly but you can see the outline of his length begin to twitch.

“I just want you to feel good…” you begin pulling the briefs down slowly, his half hard cock making an appearance.

“You always make me feel good.” He admits between a rough breath.

“Good.”

You grab onto his thick thighs and he stumbles backward until he’s gripping the desk in your room, he braces himself, staring down at you with soft eyes.

“Wanna make my baby feel so good.” You say, inching your face closer to his growing member. You haven’t even touched him yet and his cock is twitching uncontrollably. You watch as it gets harder and harder.

“Then make me feel good.” He breathes out, the desperation in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

You finally walk your fingers up his thigh until you’re softly stroking his dick. Your fingers lightly gliding up his growing length. He softly moans out, but he isn’t really, truly whining until you grip his cock and squeeze his head lightly.

“Fuck.” He sighs out, his hands going to your hair. “Love your touch, baby.”

“How about my mouth? Do you love that too?” you ask, as your face gets closer and closer until he is feeling your warm breaths fan over his cock.

“Please.” He begs cutely, “Need you.”

You bring his cock to your lips, you circle his cock over your mouth, your chin, your nose, all over your face. He groans at the view you are giving him, his tip beginning to leak precum. You dart your tongue out to lick him clean and he throws his head back.

“Please.” He begs again and you chuckle darkly.

“So needy.” You say , “Baby so needy.” You finally take his cock in your mouth, you wrap your pretty lips over the head and lightly suck making his eyes roll to the back of his head. He grips your hair tighter as you take him further into your mouth. He’s losing it. Your mouth feels like heaven, the way you lightly suck, the way your tongue drags up and down his length and swirls around the head of his dick, the way you take him further, so deep that he’s hitting the back of your throat.

You begin to bob your head up and down as you start to allow him to access all his pleasure. He groans loudly as you pick up your pace, his hands falling back down to his sides as he finds the desk again and he holds on tightly.

You take him deeper, causing you to choke on his cock and he smirks down at you.

“Having trouble there?” he asks as you continue to gag on his throbbing length, you just moan in response, the vibrations causing him to screw his eyes shut and cry out in pleasure.

You continue to suck on him for who knows how long, your jaw starting to become sore but his whines are enough for you to keep going. Your eyes wet with tears and he is in awe of the sight you allow him.

“I want to come…” he pants out, “But inside you.” He admits between harsh breaths, “But I want to enjoy this for a few more minutes…please.” He begs and you nod your head, you take your mouth off his cock and use your hand to stroke him over and over. You look up at him with your big eyes and he melts. He wants to come so bad, just not like this.

You open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out, then you take his cock and slap it over the flat of your tongue and he basically fucking loses it. You then swallow him whole again, sucking on his dick so deliciously.

“Okay, okay…” Jungkook pants out, “Let me fuck you.” He’s lifting you up by the arms and spinning your body to be up against the desk. He shoves everything to the side and on to the floor as he goes in between your legs.

“Up.” He says, helping you sit on the edge of the desk. His hands scramble to your shorts, he’s quick to unbutton them and drag the zipper down, taking them off you. Leaving you in your shirt and panties. Then he’s ripping off your shirt and bra.

“Let’s see how wet you are first.” He snickers to himself with dark eyes. His fingers rub the outside of your panties and finds them to be very damp.

“Good girl.” He pushes your panties to the side and pushes two fingers inside you immediately causing you to gasp out.

“Let me stretch you a little first.” He moves his fingers inside you as you nod your head frantically in approval. “Good girl.” He repeats and you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he begins to scissor his fingers. You wish he would keep his fingers inside you but much to your dismay he’s pulling them out and licking them clean.

“Mm.” he sucks on his fingers and winks at you. “Love this taste. My favorite flavor.” He whispers to you and you blush.

“Gonna fuck you right here, okay?”

“Please Jungkook. Need your cock so bad.”

Jungkook smirks at you before his smile turns soft and he looks at you with eyes full of adoration.

“Need me?”

“Always need you.”

Jungkook nods his head slowly as he grabs a hold of his length, he gets closer to you, his cock brushing against your clit and you close your eyes in pleasure. He rubs his cock over your clit over and over until you’re a moaning mess. He smiles at you again before lining his cock up to your entrance and slowly, very slowly pushes in. Good lord, his cock is entering you so fucking beautifully, the way he brushes against every special spot inside your tight pussy has you arching your back in pleasure.

Jungkook releases a long, harsh breath as he bottoms out, he stays still for a few moments before he’s sliding in and out of you. His thrusts are intentional, every single one has a purpose. They’re hard, fast and rough. You claw at his back, leaving long lines of pink and red down his back which only encourages him to fuck you harder. One of your hands trail up his body until you’re in his hair, you pull on the strands as your wrap your legs around his tiny waist, your heels digging into his lower back.

Jungkook lifts you from the desk and lightly slams your bodies into the wall next to the door as he continues to fuck into you. You toss your head to the side, giving Jungkook access to your neck, which he gladly accepts the invitation. He kisses you throat, and sucks into your skin. You whine at how good everything feels. Your bodies roll over the wall until you’re at the entrance of the door and Jungkook carries you over to the hallway, fucking you up against that wall as well as you scream out his name.

“Gonna fuck you on every surface of this apartment.” Jungkook promises you. “So you have a memory of a new spot every time you think of this apartment you will be reminded of how I fucked you.” Your legs begin to sliding down over his ass, and he uses his strong arms to bump you up higher, his cock never leaving your pussy.

He walks you over to the couch and lays you down on it, you’re flat against the sofa as he stays standing, fucking into you faster and harder. His cock is throbbing and aching for release but he endures it, his moans filling the room.

You try your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay, but it’s becoming so difficult as his dick is reaching that spot deep within you that has your body going tense. You try so hard you really do but before you can even warn him you feel your body electrifying with intensity as your orgasm washes over you like a huge wave of warm water. You scream, you cry, you moan out in pleasure. But Jungkook doesn’t stop, he slows down though, giving you a moment to relax.

“This isn’t over.” He warns. “I still have to fuck you from behind, still need your fucking gorgeous ass.” He’s lifting your weak body up and momentarily taking his cock out of you to walk you to the kitchen, his hands make their way into your hair and he guides you to bend over the counter. It’s cold against your breasts and you shiver.

“Spread your cheeks for me baby, give me that view.”

You are still out of breath from your orgasm but you listen to him, you reach behind you and spread your ass apart to show him your used pussy.

“Fucking beautiful. So wet.” He groans. “One of these days you’re going to let me fuck this ass aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen but you nod your head frantically, already loving the idea.

“Words baby.”

“Yes.” You moan out as you feel his cock being shoved back inside you, you choke on air as you feel him start thrusting again. You really fucking gasp when you feel his hand come down on your ass hard.

“Love this ass. So fucking much.” He says, panting. “Can’t wait to stick my cock in it and fuck you.” His words go straight to your pussy. God, you don’t want to come again this quickly but his cock feels so god damn good.

“Tell me you want me to fuck this ass.” He grunts.

“I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

“Next time, baby.” He promises, his thrusts still fucking you with so much purpose. He pulls you by the hair causing you to arch your back even more and he falls in love with this view. He loves your boobs, but he’s definitely an ass man. He will argue he loves both but the way your ass is pushed into his crotch right now…he could honestly lose his mind.

He lifts you up again, by the hair—mostly gently. And he now has your body pushed up against the fridge, your face being smooshed into the cold silver box. Your fingers dragging leaving prints down the fridge as he lifts one of your legs to fuck you at a better angle. You cry out, he’s hitting that spot again and you feel yourself losing all composure.

“I’m gonna come again Jungkook.” You warn him this time between your rough breaths.

“I’ll come with you. But we aren’t done.” He starts thrusting faster, the sound of his skin slapping your skin is honestly pushing you further into your orgasm. You feel the warmth travel through your whole body and you feel the band fucking snap. God, you are coming so hard, creaming around his cock as he slows down his thrusts to come into you, his breathing is so heavy as he starts to come. When he stills his hips he’s releasing a loud, low, guttural moan and you could come again just from the sound.

Jungkook starts whining uncontrollably as he starts to move his hips again, slowly grinding into yours and you wince at the pain, the overstimulation. He cries out, it’s too much for him as well but he doesn’t stop.

“Wanna keep fucking you.” He screws his eyes shut, thrusting into you slowly and carefully. He brings your body closer to his, your back flush against his chest and he walks you over to the breakfast table. He leaves your body, quickly takes his cock out of you and sits down on the chair and orders you to sit in his lap. He gestures towards his cock and smirks.

“Sit.”

“Jungkook…” your eyes slightly wet, “I can’t”

“You can and you will.”

You crawl into his lap and hover over his aching cock, he looks up at you and whimpers.

“hurry.”

You slowly sink down onto his length, the feeling so fucking euphoric. He slams his eyes shut and nods his head.

“Ride me.” He softly commands. You lift yourself up and lower back down again, this angle has you seeing fucking stars. You start to ride his cock a little faster now, slamming down on his hips and he grips your hips helping you rise and sink down on his cock.

“Fuck I am gonna come again.” He says, meeting your thrusts half way. He lifts his hips and fucks you from beneath you. He’s going feral now, losing all control. His cock is so hard, so needy, aching so badly for you, for release. You lean down and start kissing him, nibbling on his lips, nibbling on his jaw, nibbling on his neck. He cries out and thrusts into you so harshly now, you feel your high building and building. You’re going to come soon, but then you’re completely overwhelmed when you feel Jungkook’s fingers on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You scream in pleasure, yelling out his name as he fucks you. The chair threatens to screech backwards as you two fuck so roughly on it.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come.” He yells out, his hot seed shooting inside you as he halts his movements. His fingers still rub your clit quickly and you are pushed over the fucking edge—again. You cry as you come. You grit your teeth as this powerful orgasm hits you. You’re so overwhelmed as your whole body shakes.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck.” You yell out and Jungkook grins at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath.

“Holy fuck.” You pant out, “Mother of god.”

“Good?” he breathes out heavily, stroking the skin on your cheek. “felt good?”

“It was so fucking good Jungkook.” You whine, your body going week as you collapse on top of him. He’s just as tired as you are but finds the strength to lift you up and carry you to the bedroom.

He gently lays you on the edge of the bed and spreads your legs apart. He watches with focused eyes as his cum and your cum spills out of your used hole. He licks his lips and buries his head between your legs, you immediately release a high pitched moan when you feel his tongue cleaning you up.

“Jungkook I can’t.”

He only grunts as he swallows down both of your cum, you roll your eyes so far back into your head that all that is seen is the whites of your eyes.

“So good.” He whispers, lifting himself up and crawling over your body, his lips finding yours in a slow, tender kiss. You open your mouth as you moan, and he takes advantage and slips his tongue in. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you moan in satisfaction.

“We really need to shower. We’re so sweaty.” You laugh, kissing his shoulder.

“Then let’s go.” He says in your ear and you groan, not able to move.

“I can’t. I’m so fucking tired. You exhausted me.”

Jungkook looks down at you with a cocky grin. He lifts the duvet up and helps you slide underneath, then he is joining you.

“We can shower in the morning, let’s sleep.” He offers you and you smile in approval.

“Even though we’re so gross?” you ask, yawning.

“I’ll love you no matter how gross you are.”

~~~~~~

Waking up to Jungkook’s head buried between your legs has got to be one of your very favorite things. He starts with kissing up your legs, he starts at your ankles, works his way up your calves then finally he’s at your inner thighs. Kissing, nibbling on the soft skin and you mewl at the contact.

“Jungkook…I’m so sore.” You admit shyly, and he looks up at you with big, doe eyes.

“Just my tongue then.” He assures you, as his lips grow closer and closer to your pussy. You throw your head back on the pillow and wait in agony for his tongue to finally find your clit. He takes his time though…he continues to kiss your inner thighs, and caress your skin lovingly.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you t—”

His tongue licks a hard, long strip over your pussy…and when he finds your clit he’s lightly sucking on it causing you to moan out. He licks it over and over, his face getting so wet with your juices and his spit. He eats you out messily, his nose bumping your clit as he licks you, then he travels up until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit quickly. It doesn’t take much for you, you hate to admit, but you feel the rise of your high. The tension growing and growing until its fucking snapping. You come all over his tongue and he smiles into your pussy, letting you ride out your high. He squeezes your thighs with his hands and leans back and watches as you have your eyes closed, and your lips apart. You quietly cry out, your face twisted in pleasure.

“That was fast.” He teases you. “Might be the fastest you’ve ever came.”

“I think I’m still sensitive from last night…” you open your eyes and stare up at him, “You were so amazing.” You tell him breathlessly.

“Me? Baby you’re the one who did amazing. Such a good girl.” He cleans his face with the back of his hand and makes his way next to you on the bed.

“I’m sorry for last night.” He sighs out, “I was…”

“It’s okay baby.”

“It’s not okay. I’m not selfish, I promise. I want you to follow your dreams, and I want to be as supportive as I can be.”

“I know.” You say softly. “You did have me worried there for a moment though…” you admit, your eyes sliding to the side. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you, Jungkook.”

“I know…Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to feel responsible for me.” He curses under his breath, “I think this year will be good for both of us.” He tries admitting. “I clearly have abandonment issues.” He tries laughing and you frown. “I think…I have to learn to be my myself too.”

“But Jungkook you won’t be alone, you have our friends.”

“I just mean…be without you.”

“Oh.”

“But you’ll still talk to me every day.” You try to smile but tears fill up your eyes. “We’re going to be a successful long distance relationship story.”

“Yeah,” he smiles for you and you believe in it, “We will be.”

~~~~~~

“So fucking does solve all problems.” Jimin comments playfully, taking a sip of his wine. You hit his shoulder with your fist and smile slyly.

“Something like that.”

“I’m glad you guys worked it out though…” Jimin looks at you more seriously, “I hope you learned your lesson not to keep things from him again.”

“Yes dad.” You roll your eyes. “I learned, I learned.” You throw your hands up in defeat.

“Ew, save the daddy talk for Jungkook.”

You quirk a brow at him, “I don’t call Jungkook daddy.” You laugh. “But I might if he asked me to.”

Jimin’s face twists into a look of amusement. He doesn’t even look disgusted, just proud. Classic Jimin.

“So, are you all packed?”

“Getting there.”

“You guys will be fine, you know?” Jimin looks at you with a soft, assuring smile.

“Trust me, I know.”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #always you drabbles

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Making Ends Meet | dark!Mandalorian x reader

summary: you’re just a simple woman trying to make your way in the universe, with the universe’s oldest profession. unfortunately for you, a new customer doesn’t plan on going easy on you.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut (dub con), kidnapping (?? kinda), prostitution, rough sex, pain kink, lots and lots of degradation, ooc mando being a meanie

please do not read if this content would be triggering or upsetting for you, dark fics aren’t for everyone and it is your responsibility to manage your own content consumption

If you were going to have any hope of making rent this month, you needed to book someone tonight— and not a cheapskate who’d try to stiff you after he’d already stiffed you, no, you needed a big spender, a high roller. You needed somebody who had extra credits to throw around and wore it on his sleeve.

You needed a guy like the one who had just walked in— with beskar on his sleeve. That’ll do quite nicely, you thought to yourself as you watched the Mandalorian cross the room to talk to the bartender.

Seemed like he was here on business, unfortunately, from the way he didn’t even venture a glance at you or any of the other women skulking about; but then again, you couldn’t be entirely sure where he was looking with that big helmet covering his face. It might not be the easiest sell, but you were determined to get this guy for the night— and, more importantly, his money.

Walking up to the bar with your best sultry saunter, you leaned in beside him and smiled as he turned his head to look at you. "Hey," you purred. "Haven't seen you around before. We don't get a lot of new faces around here… even when they're hidden."

He didn't say anything, which was a little concerning, but his head tilted down a bit as if he was looking at your body, which was a good sign.

“What brings you to Tatooine, hm? Business…” you trailed off as you ghosted your fingertips over his armor-clad forearm, “or pleasure?”

“Business is my pleasure,” he informed you sternly.

“And pleasure is my business,” you countered with a smirk. Before you could say anything else, the bartender returned with a sack in his palm that he tossed into the Mandalorian’s hands, something metallic jingling inside.

“For a job well done,” he explained with a crooked, toothy smile, “as promised.”

“Payday, huh?” you noticed, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Never comes often enough, amirite?”

Your quip was met with tense silence as he slipped the bag into a sack at his waist. He turned to leave, but you reached out for his shoulder and stopped him.

“Wait,” you requested, desperation starting to taint your tone of voice. He spun and faced you again, and you tried to keep your body language relaxed and sensual in spite of your stress. “What are you gonna spend all that on?”

“My ship,” he decided after a quick moment.

“Why not spend it on yourself? You must be tired after working a long, hard day,” you sighed sympathetically, stepping a little closer. “Why don’t you stay a bit longer and take a moment to relax?”

It didn’t seem like he knew what to do with that, and you motioned to a wide, cushioned chair nearby. Amazingly, it worked; he walked to the chair with that swagger of his, the blaster at his hip suddenly so much more obvious with the way it swung with every step. As soon as he sat down, you put a leg up beside him, straddling him slightly but leaving enough space to (hopefully) have him wanting more.

“You must be getting hot under there,” you smiled, making sure the double entendre was obvious.

“Maybe I am,” he shrugged.

“All this heavy armor... does it get uncomfortable?”

“I’m comfortable,” he denied.

“Good,” you purred before biting down on your lip as you rubbed his chest— or, rather, his chestplate. “You know, I’ve heard that Mandalorians are even harder underneath the steel.”

He paused a little before he answered. “Only in a few key places,” he finally replied, his gloved hand reaching to brush over your thigh. You grinned, knowing you finally had him.

“Why don’t you come to my room and show me?” you suggested.

“I imagine your time isn’t free,” he observed.

“Fifty credits for an hour, or a hundred for the whole night,” you enumerated.

“That’s a little steep,” he noted with a tone of irritation.

“It’s my price,” you shrugged, “take it or leave it.”

“I’ll leave it,” he decided, shoving you back and standing up to leave.

“No, wait,” you blurted out, “eighty for the night.”

“I don’t have all night,” he informed you sternly. “Twenty for the hour.”

“Twenty?!” you squawked. “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

He grabbed your wrist tightly, suddenly, and pulled you into him. “A whore,” he answered with a rough growl, “and apparently not as cheap as you look.”

You swallowed dryly, irritated by his attitude but desperate for the cash you knew he had. “How often do you come through Mos Eisley?” you asked quietly.

“As rarely as I can manage,” he replied.

“If you pay a hundred now, I’ll be here every time you come in, for as long as you need,” you offered. “Standing order, permanently.”

It was difficult to negotiate with someone whose face you couldn’t see: you weren’t sure if the silence was him considering it, or just watching you squirm in his grasp for fun.

“A hundred,” he repeated slowly, “for whatever I want.”

“Whatever you want,” you nodded quickly.

“Whenever I want,” he added.

“Whenever you want.”

He let go of your wrist and you stumbled back, rubbing the sore skin with your other hand. “Show me to your room,” he requested suddenly.

You led him back behind a few tattered curtains, past the hall and up the stairs to your cramped apartment. It wasn't much, but the red silk draped everywhere and the incense burning in the corner certainly set the mood for the work you did. Your door slid shut automatically behind him, and normally this is the part where he’d kiss you or you’d kiss him, but that was sort of impossible in his current state. With an awkward pause, you waited for him to undress.

“Take off your clothes,” he instructed instead— and it was even more dominant than you expected, but you were happy to oblige as you untied the strip of fabric keeping your flowy tunic together, letting it fall off of your shoulders and onto the floor. You didn’t have anything else on, just for the sake of simplicity, and he said nothing as he stepped forward until he was just inches away from you.

He quickly disposed of his gloves to touch you with his bare hands; his rough, warm skin over your waist and hips and breasts was a strong contrast to the worn leather, and even moreso to the hard, cold beskar. His skin was tan, especially considering that it rarely saw the sun, and you let yourself imagine what the rest of him would look like based on that long with the subtle dusting of dark hair that extended from his arms. Of course, in your mind, he was stunningly gorgeous, because it was more fun for you that way. The way he spun you around quickly and forced you to bend over the edge of your bed made you realize he wasn’t as interested in your fun, though.

You yelped a little at the unexpected force, and again when he slapped your ass out of nowhere.

“You’d better make it worth my while, after I paid a hundred credits,” he grunted.

“Of course,” you agreed quickly, looking back to see him slipping to fingers underneath the edge of his helmet.

“Don’t turn around,” he growled. “Don’t look back.”

“Okay,” you nodded nervously as you whipped your head back to face in front of you, staring diligently at the dark red comforter beneath you, “I— I won’t.”

You heard the rustle of clothing and a sigh of relief— noticeably one not modulated through the helmet speaker. Unceremoniously, his helmet was tossed down onto the bed beside you, bouncing and rolling a bit before it found purchase on your quilt.

Next must have been his trousers, as you heard his heavily-equipped belt fall to the floor just before the subtle little grunt you’d come to know as the sure sign that a man had freed a throbbing cock from the confines of his trousers. He roughly kicked your legs apart, grabbing your hips and using them to hold you up as he started to grind his bare cock against your slickened folds. You could tell by the way his shaft spread your lips that you had no chance of taking him— he was too thick, you couldn't even tell how long he was yet but he was definitely too thick.

He must have realized something similar, because he pushed you forward a bit; you realized he was looking down at your pussy, which made your face burn with embarrassment.

"Get yourself wet for me," he instructed firmly.

You didn't think you would ever be able to get wet enough to fit him. "How?" you asked.

"I don't care how, just do it. You have thirty seconds."

You gasped a bit but shoved your hand between your legs and frantically rubbed your clit— it didn't really feel that good, with the pressure and fear overwhelming your senses instead of pleasure. And he didn't make it any easier on you by literally counting each second. You got a bit wetter, sure, and you'd already been turned on from earlier, but it was still not gonna do you much good against the monster he intended on putting inside you at any moment.

"Fifteen," he continued counting, his voice dropping so much deeper all of a sudden. "Fourteen."

Halfway out of time already and you weren't that much more wet than when you started. Your mind was racing with thoughts of everything sexy you could manage to conjure— his voice did help, the deep timbre reverberating right up your spine as anxious fear started to blend in with forced arousal. You tried to focus on the ways that being fucked by a faceless, mysterious stranger was sexy, rather than the ways it was terrifying.

"Ten," he counted, his voice changing as you heard him smile— you weren't sure how you could hear it, but you could. "There you go, I can see it now."

You whimpered a little, the sound catching in your throat as fingers suddenly teased your entrance, not quite pushing in but threatening to. As they swirled around your folds, a lewd wet sound filled the air, mixing in with your heavy breathing and his dark chuckle.

"You hear that?" he asked, and you nodded quickly. "Just a few seconds left, make them count."

Rubbing faster, you felt your hips start to rock of their own volition, similarly to the way your walls were clenching around nothing in search of being filled.

"Three, two, one," he finished as you felt the thick head of his cock start to push against you. You dropped your hand, knowing you'd need both to stabilize yourself. "You want it?" he asked roughly.

"Yes," you answered, your voice coming out weaker than expected.

"Beg for it," he instructed coldly.

"Put your cock in me, please—" was all you could get out before the words stopped in your throat as he suddenly pushed in. You were barely processing the first inch as he barreled past your resistance to shove the next few in. It already felt like you would run out of room inside your body before he ran out of cock.

"F-fuck," you hissed, "slow down. You're too big." You hoped maybe he'd take pity on you if you phrased it as a compliment. You were wrong.

"You're a whore," he reminded you, "can't you take it? It's all you're good for, anyways."

That got you to shut your mouth as he thrust himself completely into you, finding the end of you easily with the head of his cock while your hands clutched the bedsheets for dear life. You winced but managed to suppress a cry as he started to fuck you, not quite fast yet but so much deeper than your brain could process. "Ffffuu-uuck," you stammered, the sting starting to fade but the overwhelming pressure never really letting up.

"How's it feel?" he asked, almost sounding like he could moan but holding back. "Don't lie."

You realized, then, that he didn't want you to fake pleasure like most clients did— he wanted to see your pain, and know he caused it. He enjoyed hurting you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and whimpered your honest reply: "Hurts."

"Good."

His balls slapping against your clit only added to the overwhelming sensations you were trying so hard to ignore, pain and pleasure becoming indistinguishable all of a sudden. You could tell your walls were clamping down on him as pressure built in your gut and threatened to push past the point of no return. Your moan was so much louder than you expected it to be, broken and guttural and animalistic.

He pulled your hair roughly, making you yelp. “That’s right,” he instructed through his teeth, “fuckin’ scream for it.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed loudly.

He leaned forward and it felt like his body would surround yours, somehow, especially when he reached down to roughly grope one breast and then another. He never stopped thrusting through it all, even when his head fell exhaustedly between your shoulder blades— it was so odd to be able to feel his forehead and hair on your skin but have no idea what his face looked like at all.

The telltale signs of orgasm were arriving in your body— your thighs quivered, your voice cracked, your walls and clit throbbed with need. It felt like you could read every detail of his cock inside your silky wet heat, like the ridge of his leaking head was rubbing up against your swollen g-spot with every thrust. You felt as if being so full of him had forced you to vacate your mind, too, to accommodate his size— as if that were possible.

Either he sensed your peak approaching as well, or he just had convenient timing. "Wanna feel you come around it," he grunted. "Can you come for me? Or are you completely useless?"

“‘M close,” you warned him as your answer, shame sending a shiver up your spine even though you felt guilty for it.

“Then come,” he ordered, “right fuckin’ now.”

It was odd how that actually did push you over the edge, his brutal thrusts and degrading words creating a perfect storm inside you as the friction became too much to bear. You sobbed as it wracked through you, arching your back absent-mindedly, clenching your legs together as best you could with his legs in between them. He didn’t stop fucking you through it, which meant that the sensation built to the point of ‘too much’ extremely quickly as your attempts at begging for mercy were lost to breathless moans. Overwhelmed, your body collapsed onto the bed limply, your hips only staying up because he held them up, like your weight was nothing to him at all.

"Yeah, just like that,” he taunted, “fuckin' come on my cock, fuck— you're just a dumb slut, huh? You love getting fucked like the desperate, needy fucktoy you are, is that it?"

"Y-yes," you whined weakly, cheeks burning at the feeling of him using your body— or maybe it was from the head rush caused by the afterglow of your orgasm.

"You like it when it hurts,” he posited. “You want me to hurt you."

"Yes— don't stop, please…" you whimpered, quiet but definitely loud enough for him to hear.

“Not gonna stop,” he promised, “‘til you’re full of my come.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, voice sounding hoarse and thin. It had been a while since you lost your voice because of a session… and since you had walked funny for a few days afterwards. This one was definitely going to do both.

As his hips started to slam harder and faster into yours, you really hoped it was a sign that he was close; his raspy groans made you sure of it, though. You could feel his cock swelling and flexing, incredibly, and it made you a little light-headed but it made your overstimulated walls throb around him as well.

With one deep, exhausted growl from the man behind you, a warmth began to spread through you from the inside out. When he released his grip on your hips, you fell onto the bed with a sigh and a thud. A hand appeared in your peripheral vision to snatch the helmet off of your bed, and it only took him a few moments to stuff his softening cock back into his trousers and magically be dressed again. Funny how he looked exactly the same as he had half an hour ago, meanwhile you were confident you looked totally fucked-out and fucked-up.

“You’re a good fuck,” he offered a monotone compliment as he pulled on his gloves, staring down at you as you slipped your robe back on and tried to ignore the warm sticky feeling between your legs.

“You’re… intense,” you replied, chuckling a little. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

He didn’t respond, or leave, but just stood there looking at you for a minute as you stood up and adjusted yourself, trying not to limp noticeably because you figured he didn’t need any more ego. “‘Whenever I want’ only applies when I’m on this planet,” he observed suddenly, interrupting the silence, “which I try not to be.”

“You can come around as often as you like,” you explained. You froze when he appeared behind you, reaching his arms out and caging you in against the wall the second you'd turned to face him.

“But wouldn’t it be so much more cost-effective if you were with me all the time? On my ship?”

You whimpered a little as he leaned in closer, and you felt his gaze on you through the dark visor of his helmet even though you couldn’t see it. “That… that wasn’t the deal,” you whispered nervously.

“The deal’s changed,” he growled, ignoring your yelps of pain as he manhandled you and pinned you to the wall by your neck before you could even try to fight back. “Whatever I want, whenever I want,” he growled, “that’s what you said. I’ll hold you to that.”

The leather gloves creaked softly as he tightened his grip on the sides of your neck, forcing your lips to fall into a useless gasp for air. Your hands reached out to claw at his chest, a silent plea for release, but he wasn’t having it.

“Whatever you want,” you barely managed to croak out as your vision started to go dark. “Please, Mando…”

“Whenever I want?”

“Whenever, please,” you cried, tears stinging your eyes. He let go, finally, and you crumpled at his feet. Somehow, you’d managed to sell yourself into slavery— for a measly hundred credits. This whole thing had begun with you needing to make rent, and it ended with you realizing you wouldn’t return to your apartment again at all.

He didn't need to shackle or bind you to make you follow him to his ship; his power over you was nauseatingly effortless, but you weren't about to try to run from an unhinged warrior like him.

You'd always wanted to leave Tatooine and explore the galaxy… this wasn't exactly how you'd imagined doing it, as a Mandalorian's whore, but there were worse fates. Like being a Mandalorian's target. And you planned on doing whatever he wanted you to if it meant avoiding that.

#dark!mandalorian #dark!mandalorian smut #dark!din djarin smut #the mandalorian dark fic #dark!din djarin x reader #dark!din djarin x y/n #dark!din djarin x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

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mokuhchi-manuscripts · 2 years

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Masumi Usui with an S/O who's a Wheelchair User

A/N: So i recently got my first wheelchair (just a hospital style for rn, but hopefully I’ll get a custom relatively soon) so i wanted to write something for one of my favs with an s/o who is an ambulatory wheelchair user; it ended up being non specific to an ambulatory wheelchair user, and this is pretty niche, but I hope y'all enjoy anyways! *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*♡

❀ Masumi Usui

Masumi doesn’t see you any differently than if you weren’t in a wheelchair. He doesn’t see what the big deal is whether or not you’re walking or using your chair- you’re still the same person he fell in love with no matter if you’re standing or seated

Whenever you go anywhere with him, he always lifts your wheelchair into the trunk of the car and takes it back out again. He may not be as strong as Tasuku or Omi, but he’s able to do it without struggling. He gets used to the weight of the chair very quickly!

If your arms ever get tired of pushing your chair, he’ll gladly push the chair for you! He always waits for you to ask though, not wanting to be rude or to push your chair while your hands are still on the push rims. He always presses small kisses to the top of your head when he’s pushing your chair!

He either makes sure to hold all the doors open for you or push all the disability buttons for them. Not because he doesn’t think you’re capable, but he feels it's the gentlemanly thing to do. He’d hold the door open for you even if you weren’t in your chair!

He misses not being able to hold your hand when you’re self-propelling, but he doesn’t complain much about it. He makes up for it by holding your hand when you’re no longer in motion

If you ask him to help you decorate your wheelchair, he’ll happily oblige! He’ll help cut spoke covers to size and place them on your chair, as well as add lights to your wheels. Whatever you decide to do to your chair, he’ll definitely ask if he can help!

If you ever need help fixing something on your chair, he’ll gladly help. He’s not the most knowledgeable when it comes to fixing wheelchairs, as he has no experience, but he’ll listen intently to your instructions and do exactly what is requested of him

He always checks to make sure that wherever you’re going together is accessible! He wants you to have the best possible time, no matter if it's a date or not, and he knows accessibility factors into your enjoyment.

He always asks to make sure that what he does is okay. He doesn’t want to do anything wrong that you may take the wrong way so he always asks before doing anything. And if he forgets to ask beforehand, he always asks afterwards.

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Navigation | Masterlists | Before you Request | Commissions

#.media: headcanons/scenarios #.fandom: a3!#.characters: Masumi Usui #.content: fluff #masumi usui headcanons #masumi usui x reader #masumi x reader #a3! masumi #masumi usui #a3 #a3! game #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#a3 x reader #a3! x reader #masumi headcanons

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songbirdstyles · 4 years

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when the levee breaks

summary: you’re a waitress and harry is being stood up.

warnings: brief smut, angst, fluff, love at first sight <3 kind of

song inspo.: when the levee breaks - led zeppelin

word count: 9.5k

There’s always a particular vibe you get from people going on first dates.

It’s an easy one to notice and you and your coworkers love pointing it out - it’s an air of hope and romance, people arriving dressed their very best yet still holding some sort of awkwardness. It’s sweet, actually, and quite adorable and they’re always the nicest to you, needing to impress their date and make sure they know that they’re respectful. It’s the same reason they leave such a hefty tip - likely wanting to show they’re, at the very least, wealthy enough to tip 20% on a $100 tab and not have it hurt their pockets, or to prove that they respect waitresses enough to help you pay your rent. They’re always the tables you’re desperate to serve, not only for the tip they leave you but because you love getting a clue as to how the date goes, and most times it’s good. Once, you’d heard the guy’s date inquire about kids before their meals came, and they’d left barely minutes after paying their bill. Another time, a couple had arrived at 6 and hadn’t left until 11 on a Thursday night - nearly two hours after closing, and you’d nearly had to shoo them out the door when they weren’t going fast enough.

It varies often, but still - first date couples are your favourite, and when you see him walk up to the host stand, you know he’s another one.

The uncomfortableness is what tips you off, fiddling with one of the numerous rings on his finger as he leans back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting behind an elderly couple hoping to grab a table outdoors for some drinks. He’s dressed well, tucking a loose curl behind his ear and rolling up his sleeves and when he makes it up he’s confirming a reservation f’two, under th’name Harry Styles, please. And the girl at the host stand - the youngest host your boss has hired, you reckon, though you’d need to fact check it to be sure - picks up her pen and crosses his name out in the reservation book, a thick line running through his information and phone number before she’s grabbing a stack of menus (specials, wine, beer, and general, respectively) and telling him to follow me this way, sir as she leads him outside.

Well, you don’t see exactly where Brianna takes him before you remember the four waters that table 306 had asked for, and it’s not like you to get distracted like that by a customer - you’ve been a waitress for nearly three years since starting college and yet, no patron has ever caught your eye like Mr. Harry Styles. It’s a damn paradox, really - you only see attractive guys like him when they’re on dates and, by that point, they’re spoken for. There’s no room for you to mosey in and you wouldn’t do that to another girl, anyway, but still. You suppose it doesn’t matter (he looks wealthy enough to leave a good tip with or without a date, truthfully) but it still has you sighing as you grab four glasses, scooping ice into them and beginning to fill them with water.

Distraction is a bad look on a waitress, your manager had told you the last time you’d gotten distracted by a pretty girl and nearly dropped the plate of pasta you were holding. It makes your smile seem forced. And that was the first month you’d started working, before you’d realized that most customers treated the staff like objects to use to make themselves look or feel better - you’d seldom had to use her advice since then. But there’s a first - or second - time for everything, isn’t there? And he is your second time.

After you’ve delivered your waters, though, you’re made uncomfortably aware of the fact that Brianna had, indeed, seated Harry in your section. And it isn’t a bad thing, per se, except he is the most attractive man you’ve ever met and you can only imagine what his date is going to look like when they show up - probably dressed to the nines like he is, just a tad too fancy for an establishment like this and you’re sure you’ll feel insecure in your work-issued shirt and jeans but you suppose there’s nothing to do about it.

You try not to make it too obvious as you fix your hair, tying your ponytail higher up onto your head because it had been slipping down and you’re really not a huge fan of low ponytails. Normally you don’t mind but - sometimes the circumstances change.

He’s at table 305, leaning over his phone, fingers drumming against the table when you walk over to him, clutching two coasters in your hands and he looks up at you with a smile as you approach. And it’s easy - giving the same introductory speech you’ve given thousands of times before, telling him your name and how I’m going to be taking care of you tonight. “Can I get you started with something to drink?” you question, eyes flickering inconspicuously to the empty seat across from him. He’d pulled it out slightly, angling it out towards the sidewalk in clear anticipation of when his date enters so she can gracefully sit down without having to make a fuss about pulling the chair out - so he’s a gentleman, and it only worsens your moral dilemma at the situation.

“I’ll jus’ have a water, f’now,” he responds, smiling up at you and you nod, reaching down to rest one coaster in front of him and the other in front of the other seat. “M’waiting f’someone - then I’ll get somethin’ else.”

“Sounds good,” you tell him, giving him a smile as if you had no idea he was waiting for someone when, in fact, you’d known the second he walked through the doors. Quickly your eyes dart up and down the sidewalk, checking to see if anyone’s walking with their sights set on your restaurant but there’s nobody - perhaps she’s late, or he’s early, but it’s not your place to speculate anyway. “I’ll be right out with that.”

And so you make your way back inside - you have to stop at table 303 because their daughter, so small her legs barely hang off the seat she’s sitting in, has finished her Coke and wants another and you take their dish of risotto balls with you, practically licked clean (in your opinion, they’re the best appetizers on the menu, and you’ve tried just about everything.) 301 got up, leaving nearly half a plate of polpo sitting there and a full untouched bottle of wine and you can recall them specifically declining your request to take their plates earlier, claiming they were still picking at it and clearly they changed their mind - but Brianna’s rushing out to clean everything up before you tell her to, and that’s good of her. She’s new - it’s always good to see the new workers doing well. You’ll tell your manager the next time you see her, you reckon, though you hope it’s not too soon. And then 306 waves you down, seconds away from screaming for you to notice them because the man wants some red pepper flakes to sprinkle onto his pizza and it all stacks up in your mind, but you just smile and nod and turn to rush inside before anyone else can flag you down.

You don’t notice Harry’s eyes on you, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

One Coke and one dish of red pepper flakes later and you’re returning to Harry’s table, resting his drink on his coaster. It’s barely been two minutes since he last requested the water and his initial look of hope and excitement hasn’t faded, even when his eyes flicker down to his phone as though to check for a notification when he thanks you for the water.

Oh, well. Dates are late all the time, and you don’t have time to ponder on it as 304 noisily stacks their plates on top of each other, and you swoop over to grab them before taking them inside. No, it certainly isn’t your place to wonder about the status of his date because you know that you’ve been late to dates too many times than you should’ve, what with classes and work and everything else you have to do in life. You barely have time to date anymore - when you’re not studying so late you can barely keep your eyes open you’re picking up shifts, working your ass off for a paycheck that goes straight to your landlord. You hardly even hang out with your friends anymore and you’re not sure if it’s a healthy sacrifice, giving up your friends to work and study and get far less sleep than the average 22 year old but you don’t quite have a choice, do you?

Maybe his date is in the same situation - you can’t fault her for it. It certainly makes her more relatable to you.

It’s been fifteen minutes and Harry still sits on his own, nails tapping against his phone screen, turning his head to glance up and down the sidewalk like you had before but there’s no one there to join him. Part of you feels bad as you rest a plate of mozzarella agnolotti in front of the two men at 302 and they dig into it like fucking heathens who haven’t eaten in months, and when you tell them to enjoy they call out thank you with their mouths full, bits of food flying onto the table, and you feel bad for when one of the hostesses has to clean it later.

It’s times like this that you’re thankful to be a waitress and not a host. Those times are few and far between, but they still come.

303 got their entrees and 304 has their check and you don’t have an excuse not to stop back at Harry’s table, even if feeling his eyes on you has your stomach turning and your face heating. Hopefully he can’t notice (and you have gotten fairly skilled at hiding your emotions with a wide smile that’s just about as fake as they come) and your prayers seem to answer themselves when you walk to his table, ducking beneath the umbrella that hangs above the two-top and meeting his eyes.

“You want a refill on that water?” You ask, motioning with a nod down towards his half-empty glass. It’s certainly not low enough to warrant bringing out the water pitcher but you’ll deal with the hassle - going table to table asking if they need refills and all the other shit you have to do because it seems discriminatory when you only offer it to one table.

He looks up at his glass, tilting his head and screwing up his eyes as though he really needs time to decide whether he needs more water before shaking his head, curls flopping in front of his face as he pulls his glass closer to him. “S’alright.”

“Is your date running late?” And the second the words are out of your mouth you want to smack yourself - you know it’s unprofessional to comment like that especially when it’s that fucking obvious that you’re right. You may as well have asked him if the sky is blue, or if the time really is 6:15. Irrefutable facts are embarrassing to state aloud, especially when it would get you a stern talking to if your manager were to overhear.

But Harry doesn’t seem bothered by it, nor does he seem fazed by your sudden expression like you’d just bit into a lemon. In fact, he takes the comment in stride, resting his palms on the tabletop as he squints up at you - the sun shines behind you and you’re sure it’s in his eyes, and the fact that he took the sunny seat just adds another reason to consider him perfect. “Yeah, she is,” he confesses, twiddling with his rings again, and it’s nearly impossible not to drop your gaze to his fingers and watch him go. “But - y’know - she’s a nurse, an’ all that. Probably just had t’work late an’ forgot t’text. S’alright.”

You’re not sure what to say to that and for a second you stand there in silence as Harry taps his phone, surely checking to see if he’d received a text that hadn’t lit up his phone with the notification but there’s nothing except for the lockscreen - a blurry shot of a black and white cat, face close to the camera and tongue sticking out just so. Instead you clear your throat before saying, “I’ll go grab you some olives.”

“Olives?”

“Yeah - we give everyone assorted olives.” And suddenly, it sounds stupid, like giving your customers olives is something embarrassing when, in fact, it’s customary, but Harry’s looking at you with a certain curiosity, eyes bemused as if you’re entertaining him. “They’re actually quite good. I’m sure you’d like them.”

(In truth, you tried the olives once and had hated them, but you tell your customers that every single thing your restaurant offers is your favourite and the olives are no exception.)

“Oh.” Harry shrugs, then, leaning back in his seat as you duck back out from under his umbrella. “Well, if y’say so, m’sure I’ll like ‘em.”

You smile in agreement and there’s nothing left to add so you head towards the door, wiping your palms on your apron the second you’re inside. You’re sure you’ve had that exact conversation about olives of all things with ten other customers since you’ve worked here but it feels so different with him and it nearly scares you. There’s no reason you should feel so conflicted about a patron on a date who you’ve never met nor seen before but you suppose some things truly are unexplainable.

306 is ready for their check and as you grab a ramekin full of assorted olives you call to ask Brianna to print it out - there’s nobody at the door, anyway, and you need to find an empty dish for the olives, anyway. When you’ve got that and stashed the check in your apron you head back out and Harry’s sitting craning his neck glancing down the sidewalk and you hope, for his sake, that he’s right and she just got caught up at work. (And, for your own very selfish sake, you hope she doesn’t come.)

“I’ve got some olives for you,” you tell him, resting the two ramekins on the table in front of him and he glances down at them with an air of disgust that you most certainly relate to, and your face nearly splits open in a grin. “Well, they’re complimentary, anyway, so if you don’t like them, it’s not too big of a deal.”

“They look divine,” he says, and you know he’s lying but it still makes you smile. “I’ll tell y’how they are.”

“I’ll be waiting,” and that sounds like such a schoolgirl crush response and your face briefly tightens in a cringe before you walk off to 306, pulling their check out and depositing it on their table. None of them even drank their waters that they requested - assholes.

Holy shit.

You’re really feeling for Harry, now. There’s a new young couple sitting at 301 (certainly not on a first date, you’ll add), holding hands across the table and giggling loudly and they don’t break eye contact even when they place their wine order, and when your eyes flicker over to where Harry’s sitting he’s watching them with an expression that looks just a little like envy. The men at 302 lean over and share a kiss over their pasta and you wish it were socially acceptable to ask every single couple not to fucking look at each other until his date arrives because you can tell it’s killing him - and suddenly, you’re wishing you hadn’t manifested his date not showing up. You’d rather feel the slight tinge of jealousy at watching him woo a girl than feel your stomach turn with every minute that passes without someone taking a seat across from him.

You can practically see the hope leaving his body as a half hour goes by since he’d arrived and he’s still sitting alone, tapping his nails against the condensation that had formed against his glass of water, feet tapping the sidewalk beneath him. The olives sit untouched in their ramekin except for one lonely green out that sits, half eaten, in the empty one you’d given him and after you’ve finished grating parmesan cheese over 301’s calamari and bruschetta, you wrap the cheese back up in its napkin before making your way over to him, ducking beneath the umbrella and sending him a smile that he reciprocates, albeit smaller than it had been before.

“Do you want to put in an appetizer to be here when she arrives?” you ask, pulling your pad and pen out of your apron and watching as he glances down at the menu he clutches in his hands. You know what the answer’s going to be before you’ve even asked the question but it’s unbearable watching him sit doing nothing, and you’re sure he’s hungry. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to eat before a date though you’re not totally positive what kind of guy would - anyway, it’s easy realize he’s yearning for food by the way he’d been sucking on his straw just moments before when you’d been taking 301’s appetizer order, even though all that’s left in his glass are a few measly ice cubes.

“S’fine,” he insists. “I don’t want t’order somethin’ and then have her not like it - y’know?” And he trails his finger along the appetizer section of the menu as if to showcase the amount of options, chest rising and falling in a sigh. You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile as you shut your notepad and slide it and your pen into your apron, smoothing your palms over the front of it again.

“Yeah, I know.”

Then he pushes the olives away from him, ramekins sliding against the tabletop and you grin as you look down at them before glancing back up at him, raising your eyebrows with mock surprise. “I guess you didn’t like the olives, then.”

Harry shakes his head, bringing a hand up to wipe his hair out of his eyes and you almost want to recommend that he put his hair in a ponytail (it seems to get in the way of a lot of stuff for him) but, truthfully, you love seeing his hair down. It looks so soft and luscious and you’re sure it smells spectacular, though you’ll never truly know. “I hated them,” he confesses, and you miss the way his lips turn into a smile as you giggle, sticking the full ramekin into the empty one to make it easier to carry. “D’you seriously like ‘em? They’re horrid.”

You’re supposed to say yes, but you can’t lie to him - not when he’s already having a rough night. “I don’t like them, either,” you agree, scrunching your nose as you look down at the variously coloured olives in your hands. “But, according to my manager, I love everything at this restaurant.”

He laughs at that - a genuine one, too, tossing his head back so his hair falls off his shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from laughing along with him. He’s contagious in every sense of the word and you’ve never met anyone like that - you’re smiling with him and feeling your heart break for him all at the same time and you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced it before. “Well, s’good t’know,” Harry says when he’s stopped laughing, swirling his straw around his glass so the ice cubes clink together. “I’ll take your advice wit’ a grain f’salt, shouldn’t I.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” you insist. “You’re special.” Your tone is teasing and to anyone listening in it’s clearly a joke but you gnaw on your tongue after the words are out anyway - he just smiles down at the table, scratching the surface with his nails.

“M’glad.” And your eyes scan the rest of your tables on instinct - 306 is up and there’s a stack of plates at 303 that you need to bring inside, but if it were up to you, you’d spend the rest of your day ducked into Harry’s umbrella, listening to him speak. But - well - you’re not being paid to talk to a pretty boy, most unfortunately, and you step out from under his covering to check out your other tables when - “Wait!”

You turn back around and Harry’s leaning back, holding his hand over his eyes to look at you and you take a step back over to him, bending down ever so slightly so you can hear him over the shitty music your boss insists on playing too loud to your outdoor guests. “Could I have a coke, please?” he questions, and you nod. “Thanks.”

Your other tables can wait - you scurry back inside, heading to the service station because you’d rather die than make him wait an extra second longer for his coke. Lauren - the other waitress on duty tonight - stands unwrapping a cheesecake to prepare for one of her tables and she looks at you with an arched eyebrow. “Who were you talking to?”

You shrug and you hope it isn’t painfully clear how your heartbeat thumps against your chest like a damn drum. “Just the guy at 305.”

“Oh.” Lauren pauses where she’s mixing the tupperware container of homemade whip cream to place on the cheesecake as you fill your glass with ice. “What’s his deal?”

“I think he’s being stood up,” you tell her.

Your suspicion is confirmed the next time you drop by Harry’s table, when he’s chugged his entire Coke and the rest of his water and he simply sits there, scrolling on his phone, and it’s like you can see how his battery has drained.

“Hey,” you call, voice soft as though you’re talking to a child, but you need to assess how upset he is about the situation before speaking in any other manner. You’d made the mistake before, started chatting too cheerfully to a lady being stood up and she’d shouted at you, called you a wench and a bastard and all other sorts of names you couldn’t recall before storming out, leaving a $20 for her three glasses of wine.

It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“Has she texted you?” you ask, motioning down towards his phone. It’s certainly not allowed to speak to customers in such a casual manner about things other than the menu and whether they’d like to split the check but nobody’s around to reprimand you for bending the rules a bit - why not?

He shakes his head - it’s what you’d expected but your heart still aches for him and you wish you could reach out, perhaps give him a hug if he’d want it or listen to him rant about the situation. Anything to make him feel better. “S’okay,” he insists, and to his defense he can play the part well. Doesn’t seem entirely too torn up about it and he’s looking at you like you’re a friend rather than his waitress and it makes you feel comfortable. “But - f’you don’t mind - can I order an appetizer now?” You smile, already fishing for your notepad and your pen (a sparkly black one, just for the sake of being fun.) You’re glad he’s getting something and if his date happens to show up, she’d ought to eat whatever he chooses simply as an apology for being over a goddamn hour late. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite?”

The question takes you by surprise but you regain composure quickly, feeling your face and neck heat up because Harry’s staring at you as though you’re some sort of God - like you hold the answer to the meaning of life instead of the best thing on the menu and it makes you feel good. Appreciated. “I love the risotto balls,” you admit, shifting to stand next to him so you can trace your finger along the menu in his hands, pointing to the very first appetizer listed on the page. “And the shrimp and broccoli rabe is delicious.”

“I hope you’re not lying t’me.”

“I told you,” you begin, meeting his small smile with a wider one of your own and it achieves its desired effect - his spreads wider, and you wonder if he thinks that you’re as contagious as you consider him to be. “I’ll never lie to you.”

“And why’s that?”

He’s full of questions. “Because you’re a nice customer.” It’s sort of the truth, though you think you’d scare him away if you told him the full entire truth is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve laid eyes on in your life. “When some customers are assholes, I tell them to get the vongole - it’s horrible.”

He raises his eyebrows at that with another grin, resting his menu down on the table and gazing up at you with his full attention. “Well, I trust you. I’ll get the risotto balls, in tha’ case. An’ then - whenever she gets here, I’ll get something else.”

You murmur sounds good and you don’t have to write it down in your notepad to remember it. You’d nearly gotten carried away with the conversation, nearly forgotten that he’s being fucking stood up and probably doesn’t want you to flirt with him like an idiot because you’re sure acting like one. God, no other waitresses act like this with their customers and you really, truly never have before - yet it’s something about him. You can’t fucking help yourself.

You take his Coke to refill it - he doesn’t ask and you won’t charge him for it. He simply deserves it, and you think that’s reason enough to bring the glass back inside, fill it to the top with soda and deliver it back on top of his coaster the next time you go outside to make your rounds. Harry’s appreciative, naturally, and has no reason to question why you gave him another drink to begin with. For all he knows, your restaurant has free refills, and you’ll let him think that. There’s no reason to make him pay for another drink - he’s having a bad enough day already - even though, when you’d glanced down at the watch adorning his wrist as you’d given him his drink and seen that it’s Gucci.

No amount of money can buy a first date, you suppose, and you hate yourself for thinking it. You’d give him a first date. A million, in fact. And it’ll never happen but you can certainly dream, and you hope it doesn’t show in your eyes as the men at 302 order a panna cotta and cheesecake for dessert - 301 is digging into their pizza, looking so hopelessly in love with each other, and you catch Harry looking at them again.

The risotto balls are ready for him when you’ve delivered the desserts to 302, and you grab the plate and a block of parmesan and head right out to him. His eyes are on you the moment you step out the door, gaze looking ravenous and he’s most certainly just excited for his appetizer but you still let his watchful eye make your stomach turn.

No parmesan cheese for him - well, that’s fine. You tuck the block under your arm and tell him to enjoy, and he tells you he most certainly will before digging in and it only confirms your suspicion that he was fucking starving. In fact, by the time you’ve finished chatting to 304 about how delicious their gamberetti pizza was, one of the balls on the plate is gone and he’s staring at the second one like a man dying of hunger, but he doesn’t touch it. Surely waiting for his date to arrive to feast on it while he can talk about how nervous he was that she wasn’t going to show up that he was even entertaining the flirtatious waitress.

Gentleman.

The next twenty minutes are a blur - 304 is up and two tables in Lauren’s section are, too, and you don’t have much else to do so you help Brianna clear and wipe and set them all. By the time you’ve finished and returned the hostess’s grateful smile 302 wants more drinks and a chocolate mousse to split, and you pick up their empty panna cotta and cheesecake dishes and rush them back inside. 301 decides they want their check and they look like they’ve gotten into some sort or argument and you’re almost glad - though you’re sure they’ll be too angry to leave a good tip, you’ll take it if it means it may make Harry feel a bit better about being alone.

It’s 8:15 PM the next time you risk a glance at your phone. Only forty five minutes until you close and there haven’t been any new table sat for the better half of twenty minutes and you pray it stays that way - or, at the very least, they go to Lauren’s section instead of yours. Brianna is clearing 301 (they got up and left in a hurry and, as you’d expected, your tip is a few measly dollars) and your other tables have no need for your assistance yet so you make a beeline to Harry’s table the second you get outside and he’s watching you, sad smile toying at the corner of his lips.

“How were the risotto balls?” you inquire, drumming your fingers against his table. It’s a silly question because anyone with eyes can see how he’d gobbled half of the appetizer up, the other still untouched in their bowl of sauce, ricotta lazily tossed on top of it. You’re sure it’s cold now but you don’t quite mind them when they’re chilly - may even taste better than having them sizzling hot. “Looks like you liked them.”

He nods, pushing the plate away from him as though he can’t stand to be near it. “It’s really good,” Harry tells you and pats himself firmly on the stomach twice to prove it. It’s a silly motion that brings a smile to your lips anyway and you really, truly can’t help it. “M’gonna save the other one f’when she gets here.”

Hope is a good thing to have, you decide, and he’s clearly still holding onto it. You’d never been stood up before but you’re sure you’d have given up on the idea of a first date long before he had and you applaud him internally for that - he’s patient and kind and understanding, you decide. Much more tolerant than anyone else you know would be in this sort of situation and it only adds to the growing desire you have for him, but you push it down - for the sake of professionalism. “Well, that’s nice,” you tell him and he smiles, the expression tight and complimentary. “Can I get you anything else?”

“M’good,” Harry says, “but - can y’show me where the bathroom is inside?” He motions with one swirling finger to the empty glasses in front of him and his grin looks rather embarrassed when he looks back up to you. “Think I drank m’drinks a bit too fast.”

You laugh out loud at that and if he notices that your giggling goes on for just a beat longer than appropriate, he doesn’t acknowledge it and wow, don’t you feel like a damn schoolgirl with a crush. Laughing at his joke-that-wasn’t-a-joke and feeling your face burn up when you look at him and having your stomach turn when he stands up to follow you into the restaurant and holy hell, he’s tall. You feel embarrassed walking in with him behind you because you’re not sure what he’s looking at, and what if you have a stain on your jeans? Or the back of your shirt? He’s dressed so nice and your face is fucking flaming and you avoid eye contact with Lauren as you point him towards the restroom.

“Thanks, love,” he says, voice thick and heavy as he maneuvers through the indoor tables to get to the restroom and you send him off with a small wave - just a jerk of your hand - and the second he’s out of sight you wipe your palms on your apron again.

Lauren’s making a cappuccino and so you flock over to her, naturally. You can tell she just redid her ponytail because it sits higher on her head and you think you should do that too, so you pull your black scrunchie out of your hair and work on assembling it into a better ponytail.

“That’s the guy from 305, isn’t it?” she questions.

“The guy I took to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh - yeah.” You swallow, bending down to glance into the metal of the espresso machine to see your blurred reflection, making sure your ponytail is as smooth as possible before tying it up. “Yeah, that’s him. He’s nice.”

She hums softly, grabbing a small spoon and stirring the coffee once then twice before resting it inside the cup, already reaching for another cup to begin another. “Are you sure he’s being stood up?”

You scrunch up your nose, leaning back against the counter and tilting your head in slight confusion. “I’m pretty positive - he’s been here for, like, an hour and 15 minutes waiting for a girl and he’s still hopeful that she’s going to come.” And then you sigh, the noise overly dramatic and your coworker rolls her eyes. “Why?”

“He was checking you out, babe.”

You raise your eyebrows, head turning to the side so fast you swear you nearly get whiplash as you stare at Lauren. She simply stands, making her cappuccino as if she hadn’t just blew you away with her observation and you’re sure it meant nothing but it still has your heart thumping violently against your chest and you exhale. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Girl, I was watching - he was. His eyes never left your ass. He almost ran into the door, too.”

“You’re lying.” “Why would I lie? He’s cute, isn’t he? Aren’t you happy?”

“Laur, he’s being stood up. I know he is. He’s not focusing on my ass - he’s probably crying in the bathroom right now.”

She laughs at that, hooking her finger in the handles of the two cappuccinos, steam billowing from both of them like a fire. “Well, maybe he is being stood up, but - I swear to god - he’s into you.” And then she’s walking back down the aisle between tables to reach the front of the restaurant, headed out the door without another glance as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you and you stare after her, mouth agape and palms sweating and you wipe them on your apron once more.

Harry returns to his seat and, for a while, you don’t check on him.

He seems fine, anyway. Decently enough. Sure, his drinks are still empty in front of him and he leaves that one risotto ball alone and, every so often, he glances up and down the sidewalk before bringing his gaze back down to his phone but it doesn’t quite look like he needs anything.

Anyway, it’s 8:30. Even if she shows up they wouldn’t be able to stay very long and, no matter what, he deserves a fulfilling first date. Maybe she did get caught at work and, when he leaves, they’ll laugh about it. Reschedule it for a different day where he picks her up from her house, and then who knows? Maybe they’ll go ice skating or see a movie. And this entire situation will be something they’ll laugh out and forget and they’ll probably get fucking married, with your luck.

You’d be happy for him, of course. And even though you’ll likely never speak to him again after he leaves for the night, you do want the best for him, though you think the best for him would be you and not some girl who stood him up with no text.

303 is gone after spending entirely too long sitting and chatting and you wave them off with a goodbye and a bright smile, grabbing their check just as Brianna runs out to begin clearing it off. Full glasses of water are dumped into the plants and you help her bring them inside before going to deposit the check - it’s a nice tip and you’re thankful. They’d been a kind enough table but sometimes those are the type to screw you over with the tip and you’re beyond glad they hadn’t - you’ve had a strange enough night without the added weight of no tip.

You head back outside with 302’s check and drop it at their table, returning their grateful smile with one of your own. There’s nowhere else to go or visit besides 305 and so you head over to him, ducking underneath his umbrella for what seems like the thousandth time that day and it’s then that you can see his face, ever so slightly crestfallen as he stares at his phone and your heart just about drops into your ass, and without a second thought you pull out the empty seat across from him and sit.

“What’s wrong?” you ask and you’re fairly certain you already know, but there’s no shame in inquiring further - his phone is clutched in his hand and he looks up at you before clearing his throat and that’s enough confirmation for you.

“She’s out wit’ her friends - they’re at a bar.” And, as if to prove it to you, he slides his phone across the table to you and you crane your neck to glance down at the screen and it’s an Instagram story - a boomerang of four girls clinking their drinks together, and you scrunch your nose. “She’s the one on the right.”

The one on the right is decently pretty - blonde hair straightened and falling down her back, drink spilling over the edges of her glass when she clicks it too enthusiastically with her friends. Her dress is tight and sparkly and nearly overpowers the entire story and you can already make your mind up about how you feel about her and, needless to say, it isn’t good.

“Oh.” You watch the boomerang for another couple of seconds before pushing his phone back over to him and he gives you a tight lipped grin. “I’m sorry, Harry. That really sucks.”

“S’alright.” He shrugs and you can tell it isn’t alright but you don’t say anything else until he adds, “I wasn’t tha’ into her, anyway. M’friend wanted to set us up. I guess she wasn’t really into it but - I wasn’t either. S’all fair.”

Your heart hurts for him - she wasn’t into it but you know he was and before you can think to stop yourself you reach over, resting your hand over his and holy shit. You shouldn’t do that. He can lie and say he doesn’t mind but you know he does and you’re still his fucking waitress - you shouldn’t touch him like you’ve known him any longer than two hours. Just as you go to pull away with a frenzied apology he’s turning his hand around so your palms are pressed together and then he squeezes your hand with a soft sigh and you’re nearly paralyzed at the motion.

It can’t be more than a few seconds that you two sit like that, his hand tight around yours and you can hardly breathe, heart thumping in your chest before he says, “What time d’you close?”

“Uh -” you clear your throat just as he releases your hand and you withdraw it immediately - your hands are sweating and you press them on the table. “We close at 9, but - I only have one more table, and they’re about to leave … so …”

“What else d’you have t’do?”

“All my closing stuff,” you begin, sticking up your fingers as you list each one. “I need to roll silverware, get ice, put the glasses away, take the trash from the bathroom. And then I’ll probably get something to eat.”

Harry nods, gazing almost wistfully into the night as though he’s some sort of philosopher and you lean in, waiting to hear whatever he has to say next - “Could y’eat with me when y’get your food? If y’don’t mind.” And it takes you a moment to react as he adds, “S’just - you’re nice t’talk to, an’ all tha’. But y’don’t have to.”

You swallow thickly, already feeling your stomach flipping and your knee jiggling and you nod - first a quick jerk of your head, up and down, and then faster. 302 is arranging their stuff to leave, grabbing their boxes and shoving their credit cards into their pockets and you wish you could tell them to get the hell out because you can’t start closing until they leave and now you really have a motivation to leave. “Yeah. That - that sounds good.”

It sounds more than good, in fact, and you don’t even care if you’re some sort of rebound to him in this moment - you’ll take it. You’ll eat your dinner with him and then whatever comes after - you don’t care. You just want tonight, or, at the very least, right now, and anything after that is simply a bonus and you’ll deal with it later because he wants to eat with you. He wants to hang out with you. He likes you, and maybe even in that way, too.

You’re standing up uncomfortably fast, nearly tripping over the seat you’d inhabited as you rub your palms together. “Well - um. My other table is getting ready to leave, so I’m gonna - gonna start doing my stuff.”

“Sounds good,” and he’s so casual with it that it sends heat blazing up your cheeks, and you turn to head back inside with a newly found skip in your step that’s too full of joy to be embarrassing.

Brianna’s already begun the silverware when you get inside - with only 2 tables left, there’s no need for her to stay, but you tell her that you’ll roll if she does the other closing duties and she accepts because she’s horrific at rolling silverware. They’re always loose and lumpy and too big or too small and none of you want to tell her because it’s easier to just make pretend like it’s your favorite closing duty to do - well, whatever. She’s gone downstairs to get a bucket of ice before she can ponder on your insistence and you settle in your seat, grabbing a knife and two forks and resting them in the middle of your linen to begin to roll.

You have the motion down nearly to an instinct and it gives you time to glance outside. Through the windows you can see just the side profile of Harry’s face, only slightly illuminated by his phone screen as his lips wrap around his straw, surely sucking on the dissolved ice cubes in one of his glasses and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest - you nearly drop a fork when you go to begin a new roll.

Your pasta is ready entirely too soon.

You’re finished rolling silverware and the ice is filled and the bathrooms are stocked and clean but you hadn’t emotionally prepared yourself enough to eat with him. But your fettuccine sits, steaming on the counter ready for you to pick up and you stab the ticket once you’ve confirmed it’s yours, grabbing the burning hot plate with your one hand and grabbing a spoon with the other.

You can still see Harry’s side profile when you peer out the window and he’s glancing around, eyes darting from the sidewalk to the door as though he’s waiting for you and you know you can’t keep him alone for another second, so you inhale a deep sigh and walk out the door, pasta in hand.

He just about perks up when he sees you, back straightening and dropping his phone onto the table. You swear he’s about to get up and pull the chair out for you, too, but you beat him to it - duck underneath the umbrella and rest your plate on the table, slipping into your chair with ease and a soft cough into your fist.

(You’re not sick - not in the slightest. It just alleviates your stress, you suppose. Eliminates some awkward silence.)

“Hey,” Harry says, elbows resting on the table so he can look at you in full and you can already feel your body flaming as you pick up your spoon, sifting it through the thick pasta on your plate. Alfredo - God, it’s your favorite. You’ve been trying to branch out and try more things on the menu but it always takes you back to your damn fettuccine alfredo. “I hope this isn’t weird.”

“It’s not weird,” you insist, collecting a spoonful of pasta and bringing it to your mouth. The smell is intoxicating and you pause when the spoon is just an inch from your mouth. “I’m sure you had a rough night.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his seat as you take a bite, chewing slowly and thoughtfully as though you’re pondering something important. “It wasn’t too rough,” he tells you, and you raise your eyebrows. “It would’ve been bad - but you helped.”

“Really?”

“Sure y’did.” You take another spoonful of fettuccine as he continues. “It sucks t’be stood up, but you were nice.”

“I could tell you were upset.”

“An’ you couldn’t tell you were makin’ it better?”

You think for a moment - think back on the countless interactions you’d had with the near-stranger sitting across from you, pulling the plate with one lone risotto ball over to him - and then shake your head. “I just thought you were being sweet.”

He laughs, reaching for his abandoned fork resting on the side of the plate and cutting in to the second risotto ball - you can tell how much he’d been longing to eat it simply from the expression on his face when he takes the first bite - with a shrug. “Sure I was,” and you laugh at that, ripping the piece of bread on the side of your plate and half and dipping it in the sauce, “but you must’ve realized I like you - didn’t you?”

“Well, I did think it was curious that you held my hand.”

“Y’did it first.”

“Well, the technicalities don’t matter.”

It brings a grin to your face to hear Harry laugh at you, curls flopping in his face, crossing his arms over his chest as he chews on a particularly large bite of his risotto ball. Your pasta is already nearly gone (you’d vastly underestimated how hungry you were) and you scrape the sides of the plate with your bread, collecting all of the excess sauce on the dough. “Was feeling a bit guilty,” you confess, drumming your fingertips on the tabletop, and he tilts his head at you, “‘cause I was starting to feel a bit thankful you got stood up.”

For a moment you wonder if you’d said the wrong thing - if you’ve ruined this entire thing before it’s even started, because it’s an uncomfortably real risk -, but then he’s reaching out to rest his hand overtop of yours and your body overflows with relief. “I agree,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand, and you swallow. “Y’had me prayin’ she wasn’t going to show up.”

You smile, looking down at the table and your empty plate and his half eaten risotto ball that he’s already taking another bite of and it all seems so surreal - like you’re going to wake up in your bed an hour before your shift starts, cursing yourself out for creating such an immersive reality - but nothing about his touch on yours is fake. It’s all so spectacular - so real - and you exhale. “We’re closing in 5 minutes,” you tell him, and his eyebrows scrunch together like he’s seen something he regrets. “Reckon we should take this someplace else?” “Someplace else?”

Your stomach flips and you wonder for what feels like the millionth time this evening if you’d made a mistake - read him wrong - took things too far. It’s an unfortunate habit you have and you certainly wouldn’t be shocked if you’ve put your foot in it this early into the relationship - you’ll regret it, but you regret a lot of things. In a couple of weeks, you’ll forget about it, won’t you? You’ve done it before. But you simply shrug, motioning with your free hand to the empty tables among you both. “I live - um - a couple blocks up the road. If you want to come over. And - it’s fine if you don’t - just putting it out there.”

Harry stares at you, expression nearly blank, for a beat too long and you shift in your seat - but then there’s a smile stretching across his face, and he pushes his half-eaten risotto ball in towards the center of the table. “That sounds perfect,” he tells you, and your heart thumps in your chest once more.

For the record, you hadn’t anticipated having anyone over to your apartment tonight, and it shows.

There’s dirty dishes from the previous two days piled in the sink, shoes strewn all over the entryway and when you peer your head into the sitting room, your pajamas are strewn over the couch next the wine stain you’d spent hours trying to scrub out. Your face burns as you turn the lights on and Harry steps inside, head turning left and right as he examines your living space and you wish you’d cleaned up after yourself before you left for work - you’ve been meaning to do the dishes - why hadn’t you done them?

“It’s - um - not much,” you begin, shutting and locking the door firmly behind you and motioning with your arms to the entirety of your apartment. “And it’s kind of dirty. I just didn’t expect anyone to come here, or I would’ve fixed it up a bit.”

He smiles, peering at the photos adorning your walls. “Don’ worry ‘bout it,” he insists, bringing his finger up to trail along the high school graduation photo you’d taken with all of your friends until he spots you, smack in the middle, holding up your diploma with a wide grin - you don’t speak to half of the people in that photo anymore, but you love it. Love reminiscing on a time before college and work and rent, where you could just relax with your friends. “Y’look awfully pretty in this photo.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, clasping your hands behind your back as you watch Harry examine each photo. None of them are interesting enough to warrant his level of attention and you’re sure he’s simply trying to be polite but you still appreciate it - it’s nice to imagine that he has that much interest in a photo your mother had taken of you and your dog on a hike. “Do you want me to - to pour some wine or something?”

“That’s alright,” he says, turning around to face you and you glance up at him with a soft smile as he rests his hand on your shoulder, fingertips trailing up and down your arm and sending goosebumps popping up over your skin. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt like this about a boy and it’s making you fucking crazy, torn between wanting to wrap your arms around him or have him bend you over the counter - you can’t quite decide.

“Alright.” You roll on the balls of your feet as Harry steps into your kitchen, leaning against the counter with an air of casual arrogance and adoration as he stares down at you. You pad into the kitchen behind him and press your palms to the countertop, lifting yourself up to sit beside him, and you hum softly. “Well - we could talk, then.”

“Y’wanna talk?”

“I wanna do whatever you wanna do,” you confess, and it’s the truth.

He hums at that, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and you watch him, breath caught in your throat, as he pushes himself from the counter, doing nearly a full spin before landing directly in front of you and your knees part to allow him in between them like an instinct - your face heats as he pushes himself closer to you, thighs closing around his waist. “Y’seem nervous,” he says, palms pressing to the counter on either side of your body and you inhale a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“I’m not nervous,” you tell him, even if it’s a little white lie. “I just haven’t done this in a while -” and that isn’t a lie in the slightest.

“Ah,” and then Harry nods like some sort of therapist, hands already dropping to your waist, fingertips scratching at zipper of your jeans as if testing the waters. “An’ you’re sure y’want this?”

“I’m positive - please, Harry, I really want this. Wanted this from - from the second I saw you.”

It’s all the approval he needs, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans with ease and you loop your arms around his neck, using him as leverage to lift your hips up and he pulls your jeans off and down your thighs, leaving them bunched up by your knees. The next step is your panties, so damp you can tell he feels it through the fabric when he pressed his fingers against you and your hips jerk into his hands, dropping your head into his shoulder as he exhales.

“I’ll go slow,” he tells you, voice low and raspy and you’re not sure if he’s trying to make it sound like that or if it just naturally happens - well, you can’t decide which one is hotter, truthfully. “Jus’ wanna make y’feel good, love.”

“Mhm,” you nod, gnawing on your bottom lip as Harry hooks two fingers in the crotch part of your panties, pulling them to the side and the cold air of your apartment hits your cunt in a way that has your breathing picking up and he pauses, fingers so dangerously close to where you need them. You know he’s going to ask if you’re okay - if you want him to stop - and you don’t, not by a fucking long shot, and you push your hips into his hand as way of answering his unasked question.

Harry takes the hint, of course. He isn’t stupid.

Two fingers circle your clit, spreading your moisture along the sensitive nub like he’s been wanting to do it all fucking night - there’s some sort of desperation to his movements that has your legs tightening around him, head burying further into his shoulder, and his free arm hooks around one of your thighs, hoisting it further up his waist. His breathing is hot against your head as his digits slide up and down your folds and you’re not sure if he’s attempting to tease you or not but, no matter, it’s working. You’re ready to get on your knees and beg for him if you need to, but just as the thought crosses your mind, his fingers dip down to slide in between your folds.

A soft moan emits from your throat as his hand smooths up and down your thigh, fingers dipping just barely into your cunt before pulling out - and he does it a few times, giving you a bit of what you want and then tearing it away and you whine, thrusting your hips into his hands and Harry presses a kiss to the side of your head before sliding his fingers inside of you. Two to start, just to ease you in, pushing them in slow and steady until you can feel his cool rings pressed against your pussy and you throw your head back with a moan.

He pauses, lip still between his teeth as he stares at you, your chest heaving beneath him and body fucking quivering in his gasp. “Tell me how it feels,” he breathes, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, and you swallow your desperate whine for him to move.

“Feels so good,” you murmur, smoothing your hands up and down his neck as he stares at you as though daring you to break his gaze. “Please, Har -”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me - with your fingers, Har, please - make me feel so good -” and just to top off your request you lean in, crashing your lips so violently against his that your teeth clash and tongues collide, and you can taste everything you’d served him that evening and holy hell it tastes delicious. Perhaps it’s just him, dropping your thigh against the table so he can grab onto the back of your neck and keep your face attached to his, lips parted and wild and dominant as he pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in with a newfound vigor -

The levee breaks, then, with your lips mashed together, and you’re more than thankful for it.

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles drabble #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #loll i actually like this a lot #the smut is rlly rushed bc i didnt want to have any to begin with but i added it in #soz!

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aetheternity · 3 years

Note

Stripper levi ackerman

Y/n and levi have been dating for a few months now. While he was working you were in the crowd amongst many women watching your boyfriend. So y/n decides it would be funny to tease him and wear something y/n knows will get him aroused. So after his shift levi grabs y/n and hurries her to the VIP room and fucks her.

(Ok so I'm super sorry about how long I took to write this but I wanted it to be good and life has just been terrible lately)

18+ content

"Oh.. oh wow." Connie huffed, eyes tracing your curves without a hint of awkwardness.

"Connie stop staring, Levi will kill you if he finds out.." Jean quickly interjected, sneaking a couple peaks up your thighs himself.

"I know but.. oh wow.."

Jean took another quick glance before looking up into your eyes. His own self consciousness hitting him almost immediately. He quickly turned his head around like a fearful child.

"Aww thanks boys." You giggled, not being able to stop yourself from doing a small twirl in your far too small black skirt. Connie's eyes tracing your every movement. "It's ok." She giggled "I mean if you guys like it then Levi hopefully will too."

Jean took another glance but then shut his eyes and turned back around. "I can't believe you're wearing that.. I mean weren't you scared to walk outside in an outfit like that? Does Levi even notice these kinds of things?"

"I'd notice if it were me.." Connie said with a soft (a little creepy) smile.

"Shut up, no one asked you." Jean replied

You snickered at their banter. "Don't worry Jean I'm fine." You replied "Fingers crossed that he loves it." You said with a little bounce.

You looked over at Connie giving him a little wink which instantly turned him into a flushed mess. Jean rolled his eyes in agitation. Almost aggressive in the way he twisted Connie's head around, forcing him to briskly walk away.

"Geez Connie calm your boner before you have to go on stage!" Jean practically yelled as he pushed Connie along by his shoulders.

"I don't have a boner!" Connie replied

A hearty chuckle came from behind you and you turned just in time to see Eren leaning in the doorway. "That for Levi?" He asked with a little smirk and a gesture of his hand down the expanse of your body.

"I don't know what you mean." You said with a smile.

Eren rolled his eyes, coming close to give you a small kiss on the cheek. "Normally it's the strippers who wear provocative outfits." He swiftly nodded to the other guys in the room.

"I felt like spicing up our relationship a little." You shrugged

"You guys have only been dating for a couple months. How is it not still spicy?" Eren set his bag down slipping off his jacket and placing it on the back of his chair.

You felt your lips twitch up into a smile. It was always hard not to get swept up into conversation with Eren. He'd always been your best friend even when he was just your friend. Not that it ever made sense when you explained it that way to anyone else. But it made sense to you two.

You'd both gone to the same high school but he'd graduated early and when you guys met again during your first semester you had become instant friends.

"Oh Eren, you know nothing of love." You grinned from ear to ear. "So is he with you?"

Eren gave you another soft eye roll as he applied his lip balm. "Parking the car."

"If it works even half as good on Levi as it did on Connie I think you'll be all set." Jean said, grabbing his water bottle from his table.

You hummed, readjusting your socks where they stopped on your thigh smoothing out your shirt so that the v-line showed just the right amount of your cleavage.

It was like the opposite of a surprise party when Levi finally walked into the room. Gym bag in tow and a casual white t-shirt on with the black sweatpants that made you want to get on your knees every time. Levi's face looked scrunched for a couple seconds. His lips pulled into a tight line and his brow furrowed but it all just sort of melted away when he caught the first glimpse of you.

Not even bothering to hide the lingering gaze over every inch of you. And he didn't have to. You loved every bit of it and he'd known from the start.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

Gaze syncing with yours as you came close wrapping your arms around to the nape of his neck. Thumb stretching over his undercut as your other hand sifted through soft black hair giving it a soft little tug.

You could see his eyes waver a bit as you smiled at him and you hope that little hint of nervousness never left him no matter how long the two of you stayed together. It was far too cute to lose.

You heard a snicker that you knew without even having to look was Jean. Eren walked past with a quick thumbs up and a smirk before trailing through to go get changed.

"Hey sweetie, how has your day been?" You asked, hooked on the way Levi stayed transfixed. His hands curving over your sides then around your waist to properly embrace your hug and the kiss to his cheek. You could almost swear you heard a little growl too.

The little whispers behind you were hard to ignore but you pushed into his chest a little further, squeezing one hand around his bicep before you leaned back. Taking your warmth with you.

"What are you wearing?" He asked, no demanded.

His face stayed completely undeterred but his gaze continued to wash over every bit of you that he could see. Stripping you down for every thin layer of clothing hugging your body. Virtually making you shiver from his deep stare.

"What? Do you hate it?" You questioned innocence laced in every word.

Blink and you would've missed the way his adam's apple bobbed. His darkened grey completely devoid of amusement. Though you could see hints of lust peaking their way forward like the sun after a rainstorm.

"Well.. I should leave so everyone can change comfortably." You said, pulling yourself from Levi's dangerous observance.

A quick scoff sounded across the room. "Oh please." Reiner rolled his eyes. "Raise your hand if you're uncomfortable stripping in front of Levi's sexy girlfriend." He stated with a grunt, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

A couple of the guys chuckled, some pretended they didn't hear the question and a few shook their heads as a reply.

Levi glared daggers into him before turning to you with a slightly softer expression. "I'll see you after my show.." He said with a heavy exhale.

You could feel his thumb on your thigh and you smiled. "Yes you will." With a soft kiss to his forehead you were heading outside.

~~~~

You'd been on the edge of your seat for a while now. Partially because you were waiting with bated breath for the moment Levi would finally take the stage and partially because you could sense some slightly judgy looks from some of the older women surrounding you.

Reiner had finally finished his performance or as he was called on stage: The Armored Warrior and you sucked in a breath as the announcement from Erwin came that Levi would be next.

You threw a glance behind you at one of your best friend Historia.

She gave you a little eyeroll. "Are you parading around with that 'fuck me' face because Levi hasn't given it up in a while?"

You returned her playful eye roll. "Can't a gal just wear a short skirt to her boyfriend's workplace?"

"Not this gal and not this workplace." She replied, setting a clean glass down behind her before quickly moving across the bar to a new customer.

Just as she did the first beats of Levi's song started and he waltzed out on stage. His feet hit every beat until he paused at the edge of the stage. His knees quickly meeting the ground and turning the crowd into a frenzy.

He spread his thighs, running a hand down his bare chest. And just as soon the girls were tossing money over his body. It was almost cute how they got so worked up over the body you saw all the time.

The skull crushingly strong thighs that spread only for you and the perfectly taut ass that you could never stop yourself from smacking. All hitting the floor in front of women who would only see Levi here.

Never getting quite the same view you got whenever you teasingly worked a hand under his shirt or kissed the sweet spot just behind his ear.

Thinking about it now made you squeeze your thighs together. Bottom lip curling under your teeth.

He scooted his body back against the stage, curving his legs up and out till he was in the split tearing the pants he'd been wearing off his body like it was paper before tossing it into the awaiting crowd. Instantly causing a whole new uproar.

When he inched forward again it was to grab the pole, to hoist himself up off the floor and to do a quick little spin with one foot on the ground while the other helped him whirl around smoothly.

Fuck he was always so graceful. All of the guys were. And yet every time you'd tried you'd bussed your ass. And he was spinning himself up off the floor in a matter of seconds like it was easy. A sort of grace you would never tire of seeing. The music blasted against your rib cage but Levi's spins were what really made you weak.

You heard a little giggle behind you but you didn't look away. "Your boyfriend's amazing on the pole." Historia teased, poking your shoulder but your only reply was a nod.

The smallest remnants of the song seemed to fade when Levi's eyes bored directly into yours. You swore you could see the gentle lifts of the corners of his lips. Felt his warmth as if it was pressed against you like it had been so many times before.

Watched as he circled the pole upside down in a perfect split till he'd touched the ground again and still his eyes never left you.

The dance had been and always would be for you. His hair was tousled and glistening with sweat when the music stopped. Body glitter completely slick on his skin, making him look as though he might actually be glowing.

He carefully returned to Earth both feet, flat on the floor. Money piled into just about every crevice of his underwear. And he was still looking at you. He turned and walked off stage while the crowd continued cheering his stage name.

The announcement for him ended and the next dancer (Eren) was immediately announced. Before you could think about it you were racing backstage.

You slipped into the backroom almost slamming into Eren as you went. "Oh shit.. sorry." He chuckled after realizing it was you.

And you didn't have to say a word because he smirked, nodding his head down the hall. "He's in the rainbow room. Told me to tell you to come to him when you came back here." Eren informed

The soft ooh's and ahh's and chatter of everyone in the room caused a flurry in your already butterfly ridden stomach as you tried to hide your blushing cheeks.

"Th-thanks Eren." And you quickly turned before anyone else could make it worse.

You turned a corner trying not to run down the corridor at full speed and when you made it to his door you knocked twice in the special way that only you did when you knocked on Levi's door.

"Come." He answered almost sternly

The door squeaked open then shut behind you as you pushed it close with your back. Your blood pooling to your feet when you caught a glimpse of Levi sat on the bright red sofa in the corner of the room. The faint smell of dirty money littering the room more and more with every step.

Any remaining clothes he'd been wearing were now tossed aside while his hand worked slowly over the shaft and tip of his hard cock. He let out a hitched exhale as he curled his fingers slowly up and down.

You pushed yourself down onto your knees between his thighs. Your eagerness presenting itself in the way you flicked your tongue forward to wet your lips. The cold hardwood stinging your ankles and feet but you bore it with innocent eyes as you took the reins where Levi's hands had been.

His thick cock leaked for your mouth. And he sighed deeply as you gave his tip a painstakingly soft couple licks before inching it into your mouth with a deep slurp and curl of your tongue. Lips curving smoothly over the thick appendage.

He shifted to get a little more comfortable just as you popped your mouth off looking up at him with a faux pout. "You started without me." You whispered up at him giving his cock another loving lap.

"You wore that napkin around your waist." He grunted in reply. "Seems like karma to me." His voice was almost teasing as his hand reached up to brush away any stray strands of hair from your face before pulling your head a little closer.

He let out a little hiss of pleasure as every inch of his thick cock pressed itself between your soft lips and slid over your tongue. You shifted your weight to allow him to slide in easier. Fixing your skirt to cover the draft running over your ass.

One of your hands came up to trace deep circles into the slender skin of his thigh while the other took position at the base of his dick. Rubbing your saliva over his thick cock as a lubricant. Tears were beginning to form in the corners of your eyes with every bob of your head. But it was so worth it to hear a couple of Levi's deep groans.

And fuck were they gorgeous. Gorgeous like everything else about this man. Your man.

His abdomen clenched and the hand on your head gripped so tight you were surprised he wasn't touching your scalp yet. Soft whispers of expletives beginning while you eased into a smoother pace.

You watched the flicker of his eyes in the dim light until the deep grey had completely faded and you could tell he'd shut his eyes. His hips jerked forward and in the shadows you could tell his head had fallen back.

"I missed that cute face.." You smirked up at him tugging at his cock with quick strokes that had his knees jerking.

He looked down at you with half lidded eyes. Hair frenzied against his forehead and sheens of sweat glistened as they trailed down his neck. He let out a little moan through gritted teeth from the back of his throat. One that pushed you forward just a little deeper till you gagged.

His hand had finally let up. Settling for resting atop your head. It was impossible not to notice the way he was coming undone as you squeezed his cock in your throat.

"Fuck.. f-uck.." He tensed

His head slipped over the back of the couch but you didn't need to be looking at his face to know his lip was pressed tightly between his teeth.

Well Historia hadn't been wrong it had been a while. And you were itching to have his dick sliding deep inside you. Have the full view of his face as every inch of him sunk into your pretty cunt. Every bit of it making the wetness between your legs that much worse.

You repositioned yourself a little so that your free hand could squeeze at his balls. Pumping his dick briskly while your mouth went to work layering marks into the inside of his thigh.

"Sh-it.. hey!.. did you forget people w-ill see those bites." He panted, pulling you away from his thighs with a loud grunt. "Fuck.."

"I'd love that." You chirped, splaying your tongue over the underside of his cock. "Let them know you belong to someone."

"Dumbass.." Even in the dim light the soft color of his cheeks was unmistakable and the heaviness of his breath made all the soreness of your throat dissipate.

His thigh shook. A breathless moan escaping from between unclenching teeth. Definitely the fucking prettiest noise you'd ever heard. The veins on his cock slowly becoming more prominent as you pressed his tip against the back of your throat.

"Sh-it.. shit.." He pushed your head up a little so that your eyes could meet his lust filled grey ones. "I'm not gonna cum in your mouth tonight." He huffed

With an almost forceful yank he had you off the floor. Practically tossing you against the arm of the couch. The soft curve of his thumb etched against your wetness and immediately made you tense where he was groaning into your neck.

"A fucking g-string huh." He growled

"Only for you."

His fingers had electricity sparking over your skin as he pushed a hand up your shirt. His quick kisses making you giggle and shift beneath him.

"Off." He grunted, thrusting the hem of your shirt up and just as quickly you were slipping it off your shoulders allowing it to fall to the floor. "Why the fuck would you wear this shit to my job?"

His voice echoed against your soft skin, pulse heavy against his mouth.

"Wanted to be fucked?"

"Yes.. so badly."

He pulled you a little bit closer, slipping your bra straps off your shoulders. Back arching as he roughly kneaded your breasts.

When he pressed close again it was to nip and curl his tongue over your areola. His breath so hot against your already sweltering skin it could practically melt you.

"Levi.. please." Your ankles squeezed around his back as his thumb pressed between your lips and inside your taut pussy.

They could probably hear the gasp you let out on stage. Your toes curling even through such minimalist pleasure. His thumb delved a little slower with a couple easy strokes. Unraveling each whimper, each shake and shiver from you.

"Oh my god, Levi.."

"Say it.." He groaned into your ear. Giving the shell a little bite that made you flinch. "Fucking say it."

"I want every inch of your cock stretching me out Levi. Pl-please." You whimpered

"Should've started with that."

When he pressed inside it filled an ache you'd been longing for, for too long. Massaging all your weak spots and curving so easily into your wet cavern. Till he'd bottomed out with a graze of your g-spot.

Your head fell back as one of Levi's hands came up to rub your stomach then quickly down to flick at your clit. He was never slow when he massaged your clit but he still always knew what he was doing and right now it was an intense euphoria unlike anything else.

"L-levi.."

Your shoulders were pressed into the arm of the couch and you whimpered looking into Levi's sparkling grey eyes as he pulled back and slammed inside so hard it jolted your entire body.

"Want me to slow down?" He asked driving his hips in deeper as if it were a threat. He quickly pressed soft kisses to your ear and you shook your head.

"No-no.." You gasped, tugging Levi's hips closer.

"Good girl. Take the whole thing." He hummed

He spread his legs as far apart as he could, driving his dick in a little harder and a little deeper. His hands shifting first to your ass to give it a squeeze and then to your waist pulling your pretty cunt in with every slam of his hips.

Your mouth hung open and you arched where your back was against the arm of the couch. The material so rough and uncomfortable under your skin you knew it would leave marks tomorrow but Levi's thrusts felt so good you couldn't care.

A cacophony of Levi's name, the couch scratching up the hardwood underneath you two and every slap of your mixed skin bounced impressively off the walls only making your urge to cum that much more intense.

"You know where I'm gonna cum?" Levi's hands jumped up on each side of your head. He groaned. "Know where I'm gonna cum babe?" He sneered, eyes so dark and intense coupled with the sweat pooling on his forehead. He yanked at your skirt which had become thoroughly wrinkled and almost too uncomfortable against flushed skin.

You let out a whimper, trailing your hands over the small of his back. Eyes fading into the depths of your skull.

"Y-eah, I'm gonna paint your skirt with my cum.."

"Wh- L-levi.." Your head was swimming and you let out a long moan that was cut off by Levi driving in deeper, his nails disappearing where they gripped the furniture knuckles white.

A chant of "cum for me" and "be a good girl and finish." All fell off his lips. His eyes shut tight and you knew at this point you were drawing blood but Levi was so deep inside and your head was practically off the couch as well as your back.

You tensed up then sighed, toes curling that sweet ache finally being filled. As you jerked and shivered through your intense orgasm.

Levi's hand slammed down next to your head and now you were shaking for a different reason. "Fuck don't-don't squeeze me l-ike-"

His hips had a mind of their own and he let out a loud gasp that honestly surprised you. The vein in his forehead looking as though it could pop any second.

When his pupils disappeared you expected his eyes to fall shut but he just continued his wild assault of your pussy as you screamed his name.

"Sh-it." He was breathing so hard as he pulled out. Holding on to the couch like it was a lifeline as he pumped roughly at his cock. A couple more moans later and he was finishing. Cum dripping over your bare belly and onto your skirt.

A breathless giggle crested off your lips as you shimmied your hips back and forth repositioning his cum where it dripped down your stomach. "Fuck." You huffed

"You look satisfied." He rolled his eyes

You lifted a finger over his cum swiping a bit up to rub over your lips and tongue. "Don't act like that when you came all over my skirt! I have to go home with your cum stains all over me." You fake pouted

Levi rolled his eyes again. "You'll live."

"Levi."

He finally turned, tongue swiping over his lips quickly. "Actually I'd like to add some more on the back."

"Wh-"

"Bend over."

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan levi #levi ackerman scenario #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi smut #levi aot #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi ackerman #snk x reader

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bestiesenpai · 4 years

Text

firsts with Nanami Kento

I would love to share my firsts with Nanami Kento, my soon to be husband who I hope is free this Saturday, that’s correct this coming Saturday a day that I am free and that he hopefully is also free this Saturday-

First meeting

Nanami Kento, ex jujutsu sorcerer turned ex salaryman turned jujutsu sorcerer once again

Even though he hated working, he still had to do it to survive

When he was a salaryman, Nanami allowed himself a few pleasures in life, one being going to a bakery

But now that he’s back to being a sorcerer, he doesn’t really have the time for that like he used to

Sometimes though, he finds the time to squeeze into a bakery, this time one that’s unknown and unfamiliar to him, but apparently Gojo knows all about it

“Hi Satoru!” A friendly voice calls out as the lanky man steps into the warm building. Kento follows suit, a tick in his forehead already appearing at the knowledge that someone is so familiar with Satoru that they’d call him by his first name. Whoever they were, they could only be as annoying as he is.

“Hi (Y/N)!” Satoru says just as happily, singing your name a little bit as he walks to the counter. The bakery is small with a few tables dotted around, flowers in vases sitting in the windowsills and warm wooden walls.

“I see you brought a friend today.” Only when he’s acknowledged does Nanami look up at who’s speaking. You’re standing there with a kind smile and give him a wave when you make eye contact. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Nanami manages to say smoothly, but the attention you’re giving him makes his chest tighten. You haven’t even done anything special yet he can feel himself getting a little warmer under his collar.

“I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you! Are you a friend of Satoru?”

“No-”

“Yes!” Satoru quickly interrupts, wrapping an arm around Kentos shoulders. “We went to school together.” Giving his shoulder a squeeze, Satoru leans closer to Kento. “Introduce yourself.”

Pushing Satoru off, Kento clears his throat and subtly rolls his eyes. Finding himself unable to make full on eye contact with you, Kento settles for looking at your forehead.

“Nanami Kento. It’s nice to meet you.” He can see you working the name out in your head, and a small smile graces your cheeks.

“Nanami, do you like sweets like Satoru?”

“No.” He replies immediately, eyes drifting down to Satoru who is currently leaning over the display case staring at the confections. “Gojo eats enough for the both of us.”

“That’s true!” The man echoes, throwing a thumbs up in the air.

“Good to know.” You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound Kento’s ever heard. “We make savory food as well, in the other case.” Sweeping your arm to the side, there is indeed another case full of non-sweet treats. “Take your time in picking one out!”

First hangout

He and Gojo didn’t stay long that first day, just a quick stop on their way back to the school

Nanami finds himself looking forward to going to that part of town again though, because he’d like to see you- oop, scratch that not you! The treats! The treats were very good! Totally not you, psshhh where’d you get that idea?

A month goes by before he sees you again, not because he hasn’t been going to the bakery - he has - it’s just you never seem to be there! He goes during normal business hours, but he can’t ever catch you

After a late solo mission, with the sun just beginning to set in the sky and most rush hour traffic having left, Nanami goes to the bakery one more time

And surprisingly, he finds you there

How long had you been sleeping on the counter? You were fully perched on your stool, back bent as your head rested snugly in your arms on the counter. It had probably been a long day of serving customers if you were this tired that you didn’t hear the heavy door open and close, or the chime going off alerting you of a new person.

Kento stood at the counter just watching you for a while. He knew that if someone else walked in, it might be a little creepy for them to see him like this, but if that happened he would deal with it. For now, he was content just looking at you.

Your features were soft and relaxed as you dozed, the apron you usually wore folded up next to you. The creases in your eyes were gone, your mouth relaxed, and the sound of your slow and even breathing filled the quiet room.

Once again Kento wondered, how long had you been asleep? The cases that were usually stocked full were nearly bare, only a few stray pieces of cake or a croissant waiting to be purchased. He almost left the bakery, wanting you to catch up on sleep since you seemed to need it. But instead, he gently shook your shoulder. As much as he wanted to let you rest, he also wanted to talk to you.

“Hm?” With a big yawn and a stretch, you slowly rise to look at Kento with eyes still heavy from sleep. Your eyelids droop closed more than once before you take another deep breath and rest your hands on the counter, back still bowed. “Na-Nanami?” Your eyebrows scrunch up from trying to remember where you were and who was in front of you right now.

“Hello.” His hand remains on your shoulder even though he has to bend forward slightly now. His face is neutral and his eyes are searching you.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Another yawn, and you rub your face drowsily. Kento lets out a little grunt, he thinks it’s cute the way you rub your eyes and sit up further, trying to wake yourself up again. “How long have I been sleeping?” Stretching your neck, you look at the clock behind you and out the window.

“Not too long.” Kento looks outside as well, and notices it’s begun to rain. Your chuckle brings him back to you, and his heart stutters a little at the mischievous look on your face. “What?”

“I heard from Satoru that you’ve been looking for me. Coming to the bakery a lot to come see me.” Kento makes a noise in the back of his throat and his cheeks begin to go pink. “Did you miss me, Nanami?”

“I-” It’s no use, his cheeks are still getting darker. “No comment.” You burst into full laughter and Kento hangs his head, regretting the past month so much he could turn and leave the cafe.

“Well no need to worry, I’m here now!” Throwing your arms open, you hop off the stool and lean against the case housing the savory goods. “Now, what can I get for you?”

“Where were you?” He says instead. If he’s been caught red handed, he might as well keep digging his grave.

“My sister had a baby! I saved up all my vacation days so I could be with them!” You smiled brightly. Digging your phone out of your pocket, you showed him a picture of you holding a baby in your arms.

“Cute.” He wasn’t sure what was cuter, you with the baby, the baby by itself or just you. As he looked more at it, Kento found himself imagining what it would be like for you to be carrying his baby. Would you even want to start a family? Or perhaps-

“Nanami, are you okay?” Your question broke him out of his little fantasy.

“Huh?”

“Your face got all red, is it too hot in here? I can turn a fan on if you want.”

“N-no.” Clearing his throat, Nanami shook his head. “No. I’m fine.” Finally turning his attention to the case, he looked at what was left. “I’ll have that one.” Pointing to the first thing he saw, he’s surprised you know exactly what he meant.

“Do you want to take it to go? It’d be best for you to get home quickly since it’s raining!” The night sky had fully blanketed the world outside, a nice curtain of rain along with it. Kento didn’t need to think over his decision. He’d be going home in the rain either way, what was the use in just going back to an empty apartment?

“I’ll eat it here. No sense rushing out into the rain to just be alone at home.” With a shrug, his suit jacket came off, and he could see the way you looked at his arms as he pushed his sleeves up. “Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t fall asleep again.”

A little peep left your lips and your face burned with embarrassment. Kento grinned, chuckling to himself and tossing his jacket on a chair near him.

“I’ll have a coffee too, just a small black.”

“No way!” You puff out your cheeks in indignation. “Coffee will keep you up all night! I’ll make you some tea.” Kentos mouth falls open, a little surprised you stood up to him like that. You pay him no mind, turning your back to begin brewing his tea. Closing his mouth, Kento takes a seat in the chair with his jacket.

“Alright, I’ll have tea then.”

First confession

Nanami ended up staying the whole night with you in the bakery, until you had to close

You left the counter and sat with him at the table with your own cup of tea and a seemingly never ending slew of topics to talk about

You were like Gojo, but much more tolerable. A person Nanami could respect, and much cuter than Gojo as well

Somehow, the night had ended with him getting your number, and although he made no promises about being a good correspondent, you still insisted

Any friend of Gojos was a friend of you, apparently

Sometimes you messaged him things about the bakery and he did his best to respond in a timely manner

Others he took the initiative and would message you to ask about your day in the evening or if you were working during the day so he could come see you

And on the lucky chance you were working early in the morning and he had nothing to do, he went to see you

“Hi.” You nearly sang the word when you saw him. He was the first customer of the day, a great way to start an early morning shift.

“How are you?” Kento asks, a soft smile also on his face. Walking right up to the counter, he sees the way you lean against it to be closer to him.

“I’m good! Excited too, we got this new seasonal item.” Your eyes are practically sparkling and with a grin Nanami hums and nods for you to continue. “I know you don’t like sweets, but I really want you to try-”

“(Y/N)!” A crass shout interrupts you and the slamming of the bakery door against the wall makes you jump. Immediately, both you and Kento are looking at the intrusion; Kento in annoyance and you in slight fear.

There are three men waltzing up to the counter, all of them with scary expressions on and clothes that reek of nicotine. The one that had yelled at you was a man with a scar on his lip and a shaved head, tattoos peeking up from his shirt collar. The other two behind him look just as scary, if not more.

“W-what- what do you want?” Kento doesn’t miss the way you’ve started to shake and he takes a subtle step closer to the counter.

“I just wanna know why you’re not returning my calls, that’s it!” This man shouts even though he’s close enough that the sheer volume of his voice makes you flinch. Balling your apron up in your fists, you try not to cower away as he gets right up against the counter.

“I t-told you I-I don’t like you!” You try to raise your voice as well but it doesn’t work. Everyone can see that you’re scared, the trembling of your voice is just more proof.

“Yeah? Well I like you.” The man goes to slap his hand against the counter, but Kento catches his wrist before he can. “Hey, who the fuck are you?”

“A customer that doesn’t like the disturbance you’re causing.” Kento lets the man's wrist go when he pulls on it. Sizing the man up, Kento knows he can take all three of them without an issue, it would be as easy as getting up in the morning. Taking a look at you however, he wanted to avoid causing you anymore distress.

“Like I give a fuck, salaryman.” Flipping him off, the man turns back to you. “Now you li-” Kento punches the man in the face before he can keep talking, sending him flying into the other two.

“I don’t appreciate you talking to (Y/N) like that.” Raising his fists, Kento easily takes down the other two men that charge at him, and he doesn’t break a sweat doing it. The fight - if it could even be called one - lasts all of two minutes.

Making sure the men on the ground won’t move, Kento looks at you. There’s slight tears in your eyes and some on your cheeks and you’re still shaking, but you don’t look as scared as you did. Grabbing the man that had harassed you, Kento forced him to his feet.

“Apologize.”

“As if I’d-” The man starts, but Kento has no patience anymore and swiftly punches him in the liver.

“Try again.”

“I-I’m sorry, (Y/N)!” Choking the words out, the man looks at you with blood in his eyes. “If this psycho is gonna hang around you now, I don’t want any part of you!”

“Good answer.” Dropping him to the floor, Kento kicks him towards the door. “Now get out of here.” He doesn’t have to say it twice for the men to leave. As the door slams closed, Kento hears you break into sobs.

“N-Nanami!” You whine and sob out his name, drawing the last syllable out. Looking at you, Kento coos under his breath seeing your balled up fists near your eyes.

“It’s okay.” He says, watching you walk around the counter and stand in front of him.

“Th-ank yo-you!” The thanks you’re trying to give him barely sounds like real words and in any other situation he’d be embarrassed for you.

“It’s okay.” He says again with a soft sigh, pulling you closer until your head is resting on him. Rubbing a soothing hand on your back, Kento lets you soak his jacket and his shirt with your tears for as long as you need. And by the time you pull away from him, he’s full on hugging you, and you’re hugging him back.

“Sorry.” Your eyes go down to his stained shirt.

“Don’t mind it.” Shaking his head, Kento slowly lets you go. “Who was that, anyway?”

“Just some guy who asked for my number like a week ago.” Wiping away the last of your tears, you look out the window in slight disgust. “I had no idea he would get so...aggressive when I turned him down. It’s not my fault I don’t want to date a criminal.”

“Has he been calling you a lot? He said you weren’t answering.”

“Yeah, I blocked him but he kept calling from different numbers.” Your breathing is back to normal now, the tears that made your lashes cling together were finally drying.

“Give me his number. If he causes you trouble again, I’ll handle it.” Kento holds out his hand, not giving you very much of a choice in the matter. But after seeing how easily he took them down the first time, you weren’t about to withhold it from him.

Ten minutes later, after making sure you’re completely fine and calm, Kento makes an order. He takes two of the seasonal items you’d mentioned, not that he’ll eat both, but he wants to make you feel better.

“I’ll be back to walk you home.” Kento says as he’s leaving, ignoring your shouts that he doesn’t have to. He’d rather not risk those guys following you or doing anything shady.

True to his word he comes back when you’re done for the day, waiting outside for you. When you come, he makes sure you’re standing close to him along the way. It’s silent at first, just the sounds of other people walking by and some traffic one street over filling the air.

“Thank you again, Nanami.” You say as you stop at an intersection. You’d messaged him thanks throughout the day, but it still didn’t feel enough. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to do that sort of thing!” Neither was he. It just happened, a snap decision he made to protect you. He liked you, and seeing you shake like that was something he never wanted to see again.

“I’d do it again.” Is what Kento says, looking up as the sun burns orange-yellow streaks across the sky. “I really like you, and I don’t want that sort of thing to ever happen again.” He lets out a sigh, looking at you from the corner of his eye. People are walking around you, but neither of you make a move to cross the street. “If it’s not too much to ask, don’t talk to any other guys, okay?”

Your eyes widen at his question, lips quivering to fight back a pleased smile. You open your mouth once, twice, before closing it and biting your lip, a shy giggle coming out.

“Okay.” You say with a nod.

“Good.” Lowering his head, Kento softly grabs your hand in his. “Let’s get you home now.”

First date

Even though he’d confessed, the two of you had yet to go on a proper date

Nanami was sweeter to you now, holding your hand on your walks home when he came to get you and he’d hug you if you asked(one day he’d take initiative and hug you first lol)

He wants to ask you on a proper date, but he’s worried that you’ll find him boring

The opportunity arises, however, when Gojo texts you from his phone and sets up a date for the two of you in a park, a picnic date on a day he knows Nanami has off

“K-Kento!” You wave at him as you both approach the park from different ways. You’d only just started saying his first name and it made you feel shy every time you did. “You’re dressed so casually!” Gone was his normal suit and tie, Nanami had on a looser button up and some sensible jeans.

“You look nice too.” Kento smiled, he had seen pictures of you not in your uniform, and sometimes you changed out of it after work, but this was the first time you were dressed with the intention to be cute. He could smell the perfume you were wearing as well, wafting pleasantly through the air and surrounding him when he sits down on the blanket you laid out.

“You know, I was surprised you asked me out on a date.” You say shyly as you both settle down.

“I didn’t.” His answer has you confused and you halt your actions. “Gojo did it for me. I was going to do it myself but...I thought you’d think I’m boring.”

“Never!” Your hand lands on top of his and you shake your head. “You’re not boring at all!”

“Hm, okay then.” Nodding at you, he motions towards the basket you’d brought.

“I made treats at home, look!” Excitedly, you take out the food you’d prepared. It’s all wrapped up cutely in butcher paper, and there’s some smiley face stickers keeping the paper together.

“It looks great.” Stretching out his legs, Kento leans his upper body close to you, nearly resting his head on your shoulder. “You did a great job.” He can smell you even better, the heat of your skin is just barely reaching him.

“You haven’t even tried it yet.” With a bashful little laugh, you unwrap a sandwich you’d made and give it to him.

“I can just tell.” Taking it from you, Kento lets himself rest on your shoulder.

First kiss

Sometime during the picnic, after eating, Nanami finds himself a little tired

It’s so relaxing being out with you, and the afternoon sun is just the right temperature for him to slowly slide from your shoulder onto your lap and doze off

Your hand cards through his hair, gently massaging his head and pushing him deeper into slumber

With his body laid out, Nanami doesn’t even realize he’s asleep until a sharp scream from a playing child rouses him, but he keeps his eyes closed in hopes he’ll go back to sleep

There’s a soft pressure on his forehead, you’re bending down over him and the light filtering in through the tree above you is blocked out for a moment before you’re sitting up again. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you kissed his forehead.

Cracking an eye open, Kento grins at you when you make a surprised noise in the back of your throat and look away from him.

“I-I didn’t know you were awake.” You mutter, embarrassed at being caught. You wouldn’t have kissed him if you’d known; you were too embarrassed to ask for a kiss, and you weren’t sure if Kento even had an interest in taking your relationship there.

He doesn’t answer, instead taking a deep breath through his nose and sitting up slightly. With a light hand, Kento turns you to face him. He doesn’t get up all the way, but as soon as your face is close enough he pushes up a bit more and kisses you properly on the lips, feeling the smooth glide of your lip balm.

When the kiss breaks, neither of you open your eyes for a while. Kento just keeps his face close, brushing his nose against yours a few times before giving you another peck and then laying down again.

“You don’t have to be shy (Y/N), I want you to kiss me.” He’s keeping his eyes closed now, not because of the sun but because his cheeks are blushing and he knows you can see. His arms that were previously at his sides come to cross his chest, and he pushes his head further into your lap. “We’re dating now, so just do what you want.”

A soft gasp is heard above him and Kento grins when you giggle and brush his hair again.

“Okay.” Leaning down, you give him a firmer kiss on the forehead, and one of your hands grabs his.

“Okay.” He echoes, pulling your hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. You squeeze it tightly and giggle again, overwhelmed by the feeling of happiness. Letting out a yawn, Kentos small grin gets even bigger when you cup his cheek and he opens his eyes to look at you. Suddenly, he’s not so tired anymore.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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cixthotshit · 3 years

Text

A Cup of Rose Americano

Pairing: Bae Jinyoung x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Poor Girl/Rich Boy, Coffee Shop/Gangster AU (IDEK how I got here, just go with it)

Summary: There's more than meets the eye with every person, including Bae Jinyoung, the world's finest barista at Personal Barista Cafe

Word count: 4.7k

Rating/Warnings: Mature / Explicit Sexual Content: Porn With Some Plot, Kissing, Mirror Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Creampie

Author’s Note: I wanted to write a fluffy Coffee Shop AU but NGL something else has been preoccupying my mind and the world building to this fic kind of went off the rails and transformed into a completely different story. Enjoy this smut, readers! I really want to explore this world a lot more but IDK if I can commit to anything beyond this RN. So please, please enjoy this! Sorry in advance for mistakes! I don't always catch everything when I proofread.

I always appreciate some feedback on my writings!

"Really, it'll be a...new coffee experience," Hyeon assured Sandy. She handed Sandy a green card. It felt like an expensive platinum credit card, the card made of metal, feeling heavy and cold in her hand. "All you have to do is fill out a survey after you get your free coffee. Once you make it inside, hand the card over to your barista."

"Aren't you supposed to find actual volunteers?" Sandy asked, looking at the shiny card. The only thing on the card was the name of the new test cafe, PB Cafe.

“Trust me,” Hyeon said with a grin. “You’ve never had coffee like this. This is free, too. You’re going to say no to free coffee? And I swear, this is really me saying it, their coffee is really good.”

“Fine, thanks for the free coffee.”

“Enjoy!” Hyeon turned her back to Sandy, most likely scanning for potential test subjects for her new marketing event. Being her best friend, Sandy was always her first test subject. She didn’t know if Hyeon’s bosses approved of her taking advantage of all the free stuff she was receiving.

Sandy walked over to a shop that was setup at the southwest corner of a 3 story building. The walls were white and the windows were covered by white curtains. “PB Cafe” was written in black on the front door, though there were no door handles. Standing in front of the door, Sandy noticed a black square pad beside the right side of the door. She pressed the green card to the black pad and jumped slightly as the glass door slid open. A short piano tune played, sounding old but familiar, reminding her of old Hollywood movies from the mid-20th Century.

Tentatively, she stepped in. Walking past the white curtains, she found herself inside a small room. At the back end of the room was a small bar with one wooden chair in front of it. It only took her 4 steps to reach the chair, so she pulled it out and sat down. The wall behind the bar slid down to the floor and a broad shouldered man walked out from what looked like a bright white light before the wall slid back up behind him.

Too shocked to react, Sandy set the green card down onto the smooth marble countertop. Her eyes couldn’t leave the face of her barista. He was very handsome and his small grin softened his masculine exterior. Wordlessly, he took the green card and placed it in the front left pocket of his black apron.

“Welcome to Personal Barista Cafe,” he said in a soft, sultry voice. “My name is Bae Jinyoung, your Personal Barista today. How shall I address you?”

“Uh, just call me Sandy, I don’t like formalities much.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sandy. If you don’t like formalities feel free to call me BaeJin or BaeBae.” She gave a soft chuckle and threw her hand over her mouth, feeling her cheeks warm up. Such a sultry man telling her to call him something as cute as BaeBae tickled her. “Is this your first drink with PB Cafe?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t know anything about this cafe, except that you have good coffee.”

“A Personal Barista will make you a personalized drink,” he explained, pulling out a menu form. “Whatever you order, I will make it in front of you. If you want to know how I prepare your drink, please let me know and I will explain as I go. If you want small talk instead, I enjoy a small conversation as I prepare you a drink. If you want silence, for any reason, please don’t feel pressured to speak if you don’t want to.”

“Can I get an Americano?” she asked, after glancing at the long list of coffee drinks. The menu was simple and elegant, the writings were in cursive but the paper was black and the ink white. She liked the seemingly simple attention to detail. “How long have you been a barista, BaeJin?”

“Almost a year,” he replied. He poured fresh ground coffee into a metal contraption with a long neck. She pressed her lips together as her eyes were fixed on his skilled, large hands. He was using a device to compact the coffee grounds.

“Do you enjoy being a barista?”

“I do. It allows me to be creative. My regular job is stressful.”

He put the coffee grounds into the machine and pressed a few buttons. She watched him place a small white espresso mug under the spout of the machine. He grabbed a large white mug of coffee, and looked at her with a soft grin.

“This is your side hustle?” she asked. PB Cafe seemed like it paid well.

“Most people have more than one job these days,” he replied.

“That’s true,” she replied. “I have a day job and a night job.”

“What are your jobs?”

“I’m interning at a law firm, helping a paralegal out. I’m hoping to get my private investigator’s license soon.”

“You want to be a private investigator?” he asked.

“I want to be a lawyer,” she answered, “but having a private investigator’s license helps me pick up skills. Research is the true gift of being a good lawyer.”

“Research. You must be very smart and hard working.”

“You are sweet,” she said, resting an elbow onto the counter, leaning forward. “I wish my smarts and hard work were enough to give me success. I’m lacking in luck lately.” His eyes drifted away from the espresso machine and looked into her eyes. She felt her cheeks turn hot, realizing she had overshared. It’d been a sad thought, too. “I feel very lucky right now.”

“Sandy, I don’t mean to make assumptions about people but if I were to guess you are someone with expensive tastes,” he said. He pulled out two small brown glass bottles from a drawer. “But, you settle for less.”

“I..” she breathed out.

She should have been insulted, but her barista BaeJin was right. Sandy had always been envious of people who could afford designer things or had the means to go on extravagant vacations, but all of that had always been a dream. The closest she got was free shit from Hyeon. A drink from PB Cafe was likely three times that of a drink from Starbucks, and Sandy could only afford Starbucks for special occasions.

“Why are you saying this?”

“I want to make you a drink in which you will appreciate,” he replied, pulling out a single stemmed pink rose from under the counter, and handed it to her. She felt her cheeks flush with heat as she accepted it. “Refined, seemingly ostentatious, but simple and hopefully, delicious.”

He poured hot water from a glass kettle into the mug. She felt her cheeks turn hot again as he reached over and plucked a single petal from the rose she held. He tilted a single drop of liquid from one of the brown bottles onto the petal.

“Rose water,” he said to her as he locked eyes with her for a second. He placed the rose petal into the mug, letting it float in the hot water. He poured the espresso into the mug of water, and took a spoon to scoop out the wilted petal, tossing it away before handing the drink to her.

She gave it a sip, and shut her eyes, a smile on her lips. Using a flower as aromatic as a rose was difficult to pull off in cuisine. Oftentimes the rose aroma was too overpowering, reminding one’s nose of perfume instead of food. Baejin’s Rose Americano, though, was the perfect balance of a good cup of coffee elevated with some elegance, refined by the subtlest hint of a rose’s sweet scent. The warm breath she exhaled after a hot sip of Americano filled her senses with flowery comfort.

“This is the most...beautiful cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted,” she replied, setting the mug down when she was half finished. “It tastes...beautiful.”

He gave a small chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile any wider than she already was. He was incredibly cute, grinning in reaction to her compliment. How could a man exude the amount of sensuality like BaeJin yet be so cute that she wanted to squish him like a marshmallow?

“You like it?” he asked.

“I do,” she replied. “I didn’t know a cup of Americano could be improved. Thank you for this cup of coffee. You’re a gifted barista.”

“Thank you. I would love to make you another drink.”

“I’ll try to come back one day,” she said earnestly.

She sipped her drink and glanced at her phone. Thanking her talented, handsome (and cute) barista BaeJin one last time, Sandy finished her drink and sprinted out of the odd, surreal cafe. She had to get ready for work. Smelling the pink rose in her hand, Sandy smiled to herself. Who knew her barista would be the first man to give her a rose?

“Diamond! Malibu was accidentally double booked,” Danielle called out into the dressing room. “Can you give a lap dance in the Blue Champagne Room before going home?”

“Wait,” Sandy said, holding the gold hoop earring she’d just taken off her left earlobe, “I’m not going to chase Malibu for the flat fee. The last time I covered for her, not only did her John not tip me but I had to chase her for 4 days before she gave me the cash.”

“I have a hard time chasing her down, too,” Danielle said with a heavy sigh, handing her purple vape pen to Sandy to hold. She dug into her pink and purple Bedazzled fanny pack, and fished out a few bills. She handed a bag of clothing to Sandy. “Let me know if this John is handsy or out of line. He’s a new customer. You have five minutes, babe. Fix your makeup.”

Handing the vape pen back to her boss, Sandy put the cash into her purse before shutting and locking the drawer to her vanity. She put her earring back on and retouched her eye makeup and lipstick. Her locks of hair looked good as she combed her fingers through her hair, looking into the mirror before getting up to change.

Sandy hadn’t exactly planned on becoming a stripper, but during her freshman year in college, she took a class on feminist studies, specifically on sex work. What started out as a learning experience in respecting sex work, and educating herself on the legal struggles of sex workers’ rights, Sandy soon found herself stripping as a means of extra income. She herself was in need of money, and recognized her beauty was valued enough that she could make capital from it.

Having walked out on her dysfunctional family as soon as she turned 18, Sandy had been hustling on her own for years. She was still working towards a career in law, but in the meantime, she was balancing between her day job as an unpaid intern at a shitty law firm and her night job as a stripper at a club called Blue Paradise. Giving lap dances were only nice when she received good tips, but they didn’t happen often enough. All she wanted was a good tip.

Pulling out the outfit Danielle handed to her, she took off her clothes and put on her new outfit. She wore a neon pink G-string bikini bottom with her matching lace bra under a black pencil skirt and a white costume button up office dress shirt. She put on a loose blue tie around her neck, and put on a pair of thick black framed glasses, matching it with her black leather knee high boots. Apparently, this new customer had a librarian kink.

Walking down the hall, toward the other side of the back of the club, she entered the room with the blue door at the end of the hall. The Champagne Rooms, where customers received their private lap dances, were color coded. The Blue Room was where the clients with specific kinks went.

Opening the door, Sandy pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and looked up to see her John seated on the black couch. The dim lighting of the room cast a shadow over his body, making it hard for her to make out his face. She blinked, and closed her mouth, realizing that her customer was her barista from PB Cafe, BaeJin. It had been days since she had her cup of Rose Americano.

He was wearing a loosely worn grey sweater with black denim jeans. She didn’t think it was possible but he looked more handsome than she last remembered. Perhaps, with her body so close to his, knowing that he was there for devious reasons, her face flushed and her nipples hardened as heat rushed through her body from head to toe.

“BaeJin!” she said, forgetting her sexy librarian character.

“Don’t move,” he said, looking alarmed. She stood completely still, one hand on the door handle. “You’re a stripper, Sandy?”

“You...you remember me?” He nodded. “Stripping is helping me pay for my law degree.” She licked her lips and tilted her head, pushing her chest forward slightly. “I can give you what you want.”

“I can’t do this,” he replied, crossing his left leg over his right. His eyes left her, and diverted to the ground. Her ego was bruised. Not only did she need the money, but her vanity made her feel upset that he didn’t want a lap dance from her. “I should go.”

“I have to try to keep you here,” she said shyly, pressing her back against the door. “If I don’t, that means I’m not good at my job.”

“How long should we be in here for you to be considered good at your job?” he asked, his eyes returning to meet her gaze.

“You don’t want a lap dance? Am I not cute? My tits too small?”

He gave a chuckle, and looked away when his eyes moved to her chest as she talked.

“You’re very cute,” he replied, “but that’s the problem. As a barista, I don’t date customers. Since you didn’t actually pay for your drink, I thought it’d be OK to ask you out if I ever saw you again. But if I pay for this lap dance, I wouldn’t want to ask you out. It’s not fair for me to proposition you while you’re working.”

“You’ve been thinking hard about me?” Her cheeks felt hot and goosebumps formed on her arms. “Would you accept my invitation if I asked you out after this? I’m actually supposed to be off work by now, but this is my last job tonight. If I don’t give you a lap dance, we didn’t cross any lines, right?”

He nodded, and she gave a nervous chuckle.

“You said that being a barista was your side hustle,” she said, noticing the expensive watch and ring on his left hand. Sex workers had to know street codes to keep themselves safe, and watches and rings were how gang members communicated their loyalties and rankings. “What’s your main job? You said it’s stressful.”

His right hand wrapped around his platinum watch, the case of the watch encrusted with diamonds. The C9 Gang was a wealthy gang with origins in Tokyo, Japan, platinum was their calling card. BaeJin’s gold band emerald ring sat on his middle finger, indicating he was a made man of high rank. Sandy was impressed; BaeJin had acclimated to a high status in a gang at a young age.

“How long have you been working here, Sandy?” he asked in response.

“Diamond,” she answered, her grip remaining firm on the door. “My stage name is Diamond.”

“Sandy...Diamond,” he said with a grin. He stood, and she took a deep inhale of breath as he took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, his left arm wrapping around her waist as his hand gripped onto her wrist. Her hold on the door handle loosened. “You are the diamond in the rough in Blue Paradise. You still want to invite me out on a date?”

She took a gulp of breath, staring deeply into his dark brown eyes. He licked his lips and her eyes drifted to his mouth. Giving the most gentle nod of her head, she said, “Yes.”

“I drive a blue Ferrari F60 America,” he said as the tip of his nose touched hers.

“I don’t know anything about cars,” she replied, shutting her eyes. His breath was warm, making it hard for her to breathe. He chuckled and she felt his head rest onto her shoulder.

She opened her eyes when she felt a hand touch her chin.

“I drive a blue car,” he said, his eyes drifting down her face to her lips. His thumb ran across her bottom lip gently, sending heat deep into her groin. Her stomach ached at the touch. “It’ll be the most expensive looking car you’ll see when you walk outside.” He looked directly into her eyes again. “I’m a dangerous man, Sandy...Diamond. I have to ask you one more time, do you want to keep talking to me?”

She chewed on the inside of her left cheek nervously, and furrowed her eyebrows. Given how close she was to getting the paid job as a paralegal at Johnston’s &Partners, Sandy was one step closer to her dreams of becoming a lawyer. Would it be ethical to date a gangster?

“Will you take me home or will we be going to your place?” she answered. Life was too short not to take risks.

Upon his request, she left work wearing her costume. BaeJin’s description of having the most expensive looking car was accurate. The navy blue car shone brighter than any other car, and the curves of the body created an elegant design to the car. He’d opened the passenger door for her. She realized her skirt barely covered her ass as the cold leather from the seat hit the back of her thighs.

He drove them up a curvy hill to get to his expensive mansion, placed behind a small forest. It sat atop of a mountainous hill, overlooking the bright lights of the city far below. BaeJin was a man of very high rank by the looks of his home. It was large and designed with multiple floor to ceiling windows. Sandy took a soft gulp of air as her mouth felt dry.

“Your home is beautiful,” she said when he led her into his home, the hallway lined with expensively framed paintings. The jade vase that held 3 white lilies beside the coat hanger looked like it was worth more than everything she owned, including the small amount of cash she had in her bank account.

BaeJin’s home aesthetic was minimalist, though each room had a piece of furniture that popped out, like the jade vase in the front entrance. In his bedroom, he had a rose gold encrusted full length mirror sitting at the foot of his bed. It was shameless, but did not surprise her. Their eyes locked as BaeJin sat down at the foot of the bed. Their fingers intertwined when she reached her left hand out to his outstretched right hand.

“I spent a week trying not to think about you,” he said, pulling her easily onto his lap. His free hand wrapped around her waist. “The closest thing to you was trying to get a stripper to dress up like a sexy librarian.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” she said, squeezing his hand. “You went to Blue Paradise wanting a fantasy. Instead, you left with your fantasy.”

His hand released hers and she felt his hand between her legs, sliding up against her slit. Shutting her eyes she gave a soft moan, surprised at his swift movement.

“You deserve the best in life,” he said into her ear before grazing his teeth gently against her neck. “Don’t ever settle for less.”

He kissed her, his lips warm and firm. His tongue parted her lips and she gave a soft hum. She pushed his tongue out of her mouth, appreciating the taste of floral green tea from him. Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer to her. He tasted better than the beautiful cup of Rose Americano.

With a clouded head, she helped him pull his sweater off as he aggressively pulled her top off of her, the cheap buttons popping loudly as they flew into the air. Her skirt failed to exist when he ripped the zipper and tore the fabric apart with his bare hands.

“Are you going to rip me apart?” she asked breathlessly when his fingers found their way under her bra, fondling her erect nipple. She gave a soft moan and he grinned as he pinched her sensitive bud.

“I’ll be as hard or soft as you want,” he assured her. The pad of his thumb grazed against her nipple. Her back shivered as a sharp heat rode up her back.

“I like a bit of both,” she said, her cheeks hot. It felt like a dream to have BaeJin telling her he would do as she wanted. “You ruined my skirt.”

“The cheap costume skirt?” he asked, his hand returning to rubbing her slit. “You don’t have to settle, remember?” She shut her eyes, her hand grabbing his arm as two of his fingers pressed against her clit. “I like you best without clothes anyway.” The heat intensified as his fingers moved down lower, moistening her panties with the slick heat coming out of her pussy. Her back shook again as his fingers moved up against her slit, and then back down. “Your voice is lovely.”

She moaned as she rested her head against his chest, his fingers continually creating more heat between her legs. One finger slipped under her panties, pulling the fabric away from her wet cunt. The back of his knuckle pressed against the engorged bud of her clit, and she mewled as he rubbed up and down against her.

“BaeBae,” she could only speak with a shaky breath, “BaeBae, I’m going to come.”

Her hips thrust haphazardly against his knuckle as a small flash of heat washed over her, goosebumps forming up the back of her neck. Her orgasm disappeared as soon as it came and she breathed through her mouth. Her pussy felt wet as her slick heat dripped out of her.

“I was just playing with you,” he said with an amused smile, his eyes locked onto the mess between her legs, including his wet fingers. He spread her juices onto her folds, and moved the pads of his index and middle fingers to draw small circles onto her clit. She mewled, shutting her eyes, as her hips rutted against the motions of his fingers. “But with you this wet, I can fuck you right now.”

“BaeBae,” she breathed out, opening her eyes.

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at him. Wordlessly, she stood as their hands began removing each other’s clothes off. His expensive jewelry remained on as he pulled her back to his front, making her stand between his legs. His hand went between her legs and he massaged the inside of her thigh. She hummed a soft moan, enjoying the way his hand relaxed her muscles.

Both of his hands wrapped around her waist, and his lips kissed her neck. He requested she trust him, and one hand reached down to her right knee and had her stretch her leg out to rest over his. As his other hand went to her left knee, she understood what he was doing. He wanted a full view of her pussy so she sat on his lap with her legs hooked over his.

“Ready to put this to use?” he asked, his hands kneading her hips. His reflection from the mirror was staring at her. She saw the cheeks of her flushed face turn a bright red, and she tilted her head down to look away from the mirror. The blood coursing through her chest up to her head clouded her vision. “Look at us.”

His right hand cupped her face, and she felt his wrist press up against the front of her neck. The pulse from his wrist beat rapidly against the pulse on her neck, and she struggled to breathe as her eyes locked onto his from the reflection in the mirror. Hot blood rushed to her groin and her hips jerked forward, out of her control. His left arm wrapped around her waist had her firmly in his hold, so all she could do was wiggle in his lap. Feeling the muscles of his thighs flex under her made her buttocks tighten, her body anticipating his cock.

“If you let me take you raw,” he said softly against her ear, his eyes locked with hers through the reflection of the mirror, “that’ll make you mine.”

His hold on her face was gone as his hand grabbed his cock. He rubbed his hard cock against her slit. She bit her bottom lip as his heat caused more juices to pool out of her cunt. It made her nerves shake, itching her skin in unbearable heat. He blinked, and his eyebrows furrowed as she opened her mouth to breathe loudly.

“I’m yours,” she said clearly. He groaned as he pushed the tip of his cock into her entrance. “Give me everything, BaeJin.” Pleasure blinded her vision as she saw nothing but white and gold flecks of stars. She gave a loud gulp when she felt his hand grip onto her chin again, his wrist pressing against her throat. Her grip on his arms tightened as she held onto him for leverage. His cock pushed in deeper, and the walls of her pussy trembled as heat filled her body in overwhelming waves. “I’m yours.”

His lips were on her neck and when her vision cleared all her eyes could focus was on the way his cock was fucking her pussy. He started with shallow pushes, the rhythm steady as she bounced on his lap. She came and she gave a gentle mewl, blurting out his name as her walls squeezed his cock. A gentle chuckle escaped her lips as she saw him shut his eyes tight.

“You’re so easy to please,” he said as he pushed in deep. She gave a loud groan as he pulled out roughly before pushing in fast, going in balls deep. He started a steady, deep rhythm and she cried as she was filled with undiluted pleasure.

“You fuck so good,” she moaned, her hand reaching back to grab his hair. He sucked on her neck, leaving a red mark before he kissed her shoulder. “BaeJin, fuck me. I’m gonna - I’m - I’m gonna come.”

His grip around her waist tightened as he pushed faster into her, and they bent forward together as he came into her in deep pushes. Her fingers dug into his skin as she shut her eyes, taking in the sensation of his hot seed filling up her insides.

“Come,” he panted out heavily as she felt him withdraw from her. She whimpered as she felt his middle finger push into her come-filled cunt. His thumb rubbed up against her clit, making her nerves dance in hot waves. She cried out a soft orgasm as she came again. She breathed heavily as she rested against his body.

“We barely know each other,” she said after a while. She didn’t know how long they sat together, staring at their reflection before she finally spoke.

“We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other,” he said, running a hand up and down her thigh, sending heat up and down her back. “You are mine now.”

He pulled her off his lap, and they laid in bed together. A shiver went down her back as he kissed her shoulder. They were facing each other, her left leg locked between his muscular thighs.

Giving a laugh, she watched him grab her wrist. He kissed the inside of her wrist before kissing the inside of her elbow. She shut her eyes as she felt his lips on her shoulder. Every kiss sent a vibrating heat under her skin. His mouth sucked on her neck and she grabbed onto the back of his hair as his teeth grazed against her skin. The muscles in her stomach tightened. The world ceased to exist as BaeJin’s embrace consumed her.

#cix smut #cix #baejin imagines #bae jinyoung #bae jinyoung x reader #baejin x reader #cix baejin smut #baebae #cix baejin #bae jinyoung x fem oc #baejin x fem oc #coffee shop au #gangster au #fluff #smut #bae jinyoung smut #no beta read #cixthotshit

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 years

Text

mr. worst cup

CollegeBarista!Jaemin x Reader

summary: Jaemin messes up your order and in turn messes up any chance at any sort of relationship with you (or so he thinks)

word count: 4.3k

A/N: I really hope you guys like it!

Taglist! @eggbutnotyolk

Mornings, Jaemin hated them. Yes, that was beyond cliche, but it was the truth. Especially right now. At approximately 7 am, Jaemin also hated being awake, Jeno, being cold, people, Jeno again, and work.

Jaemin and Jeno both worked at a cafe near campus where Jeno worked the morning shift, had time for a quick workout, then went to school, all because he enjoyed mornings. On the other hand, Jaemin hated mornings, so he slept in, went to class in the afternoon for a few hours, and then came to work in the evenings. It was a schedule that just worked for the both of them, no downsides- usually.

But Jaemin was not in the comfort of his bed, dreaming, drooling, and snoozing away like he could have been this morning. No, he was working Jeno’s shift because Jaemin was the best friend on the planet and he would do anything for Jeno anytime Jeno wanted- no. Jeno had woken up with a high fever and a sore throat, and it was easier to wake Jaemin, his roommate, to ask for him to cover his shift than to text another coworker. Anything for the health of the general public, gag, Jaemin hated how nice Jeno was sometimes.

So after opening at a bright and early 6:45, helping only one customer in the 45 minutes that he had been open, Jaemin was starting to feel that anger from being up so early. He should have some coffee to give himself energy and help with the anger, but his brain just couldn’t seem to send the signals to his limbs to make him move. His eyes were locked on all the empty tables and chairs of the cafe, tables and chairs that were always filled during his normal evening shift. The emptiness paired with the godforsaken jazz song playing over and over and over again were driving him insane. After a five-minute war between his mind and body, he got to work making a drink for himself. His specialty iced americano with his precious eight shots of espresso. His priceless, liquid gold. He was so concentrated while making his drink that he didn’t even hear the door open to reveal his second customer of the day.

“Oh my god, Jeno! Eight shots?” He heard a voice exclaim. “Oh, you’re not Jeno, I’m so sorry.”

“Just a minute please, I’ll be right with you,” Jaemin replied.

He couldn’t keep you waiting forever, so he set his prepared drink aside and made his way to the customer at the counter. Oh, this cute customer. He quickly turned to the register, asking you for your order with a polite smile.

“Just a medium iced caramel latte with almond milk, double the caramel drizzle, and an extra shot please.” You recited your order.

He nodded, took the money, and began working on your order, but unfortunately, his mind was not on your order. He just wanted a sip of his coffee, for the energy to kick in. His body was craving it, the taste, the energy that would make him feel normal, like a human. He could have gotten a quick sip in if the bell over the door hadn’t distracted him. Another customer, same routine: smile, I’ll be right with you, finish one drink, new drink to make. He distractedly reached for the cup on the counter, calling out your name before turning to the new customer.

You approached the counter hesitantly, this did not look like your drink. The bell over the door sounded again and again as you hesitantly reached for the drink that was supposedly yours. You could just ask him to remake your drink, but the line was getting longer with the morning rush beginning and you had to get to class soon. That and you would feel awful asking him to waste supplies to make a simple drink again.

Okay, you reassured yourself, hopefully, this wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe this barista just makes it differently, much differently, than Jeno does. You grabbed the drink and a straw, calling out a “thank you” as you walked out of the cafe. Stopping beside a trash bin you unwrapped the straw and took a sip of the pitch-black drink. Your face scrunched up in disgust, you could barely fight back the urge to spit out the coffee, no matter how hard your body was screaming at you to get it out.. You could not bring yourself to even look at the poison in hand so you tossed it into the bin, what a sad waste of money and his work.

The next morning you walked in a little later, as your first class of the day had gotten canceled. You joined the line, looking at the menu because you could not and would not order your usual today. Normally you wouldn’t have to look at the menu, Jeno knew how to make your drink perfectly, but Jeno was not there. The take on your drink yesterday had scarred you, perhaps a hot tea today.

“Hello, the caramel latte again today?” The same barista from yesterday asked. Where the hell was this guy getting “again” from?

You smiled almost apologetically with a hint of apprehension, “No thank you, just a mint green tea with honey please.”

He nodded, tapping away on the tablet, taking your money, and getting straight to work. The bell over the door became the background noise as the rush of professionals and early risers came in for their morning caffeine fix. Jaemin looked at the clock quickly, just 10 minutes before another coworker would show up to help him, this rush was too crazy. He quickly stirred the honey into the cup, called your name, and got to the counter to continue taking orders. It was too bad he didn’t get to make more conversation or look at you longer. Not in a weird way, he felt like he had barely had a chance to even get a glance at you today.

You had barely made it on time to class, sliding into your seat just a minute before your professor walked in and began a quick review of your last class. You sat back with a sigh, taking a sip of your warm drink.

Well, this was odd, your tea didn’t taste like tea at all. Maybe it was just the first sip? No, the next sip tasted like nothing but honey. Confused, you took the lid off the cup to take a look, only to be met with the sight of steaming water mixed with honey-no tea in sight.

After class, you sent a quick text to your usual barista and friend, Jeno, to let him know that you had notes for him. Time to carry on with your day, sadly caffeine-free.

Jaemin had had no idea that he had messed your drinks up so badly. When he had given you his americano the rush had just come in so when he went to look for his drink later he had figured that his coworker had just accidentally tossed it. The second day, he could blame the rush again. He had haphazardly tossed a tea bag in the general vicinity of the cup before passing it in your direction. So it came as a surprise to him that for the rest of the week that he covered Jeno’s shift, the cute customer that came in right before the rush, that would be you, had stopped coming in. It was a shame, but he could continue on with his life with little to no regret. Maybe he would see you again or maybe another customer would catch his eye. There was no use in dwelling on something he had no control over or wasting time letting his mind run wild with anxious thoughts of why you hadn’t come back.

That was until he came home one day a week later to find Jeno on a loud call. Jeno smiled and quickly mouthed to Jaemin that he was on the phone with a friend. “Jeno, I’m telling you. That was the worst coffee I have ever tasted. Never in my life have I had a drink that could be used to run a car. I just don’t understand how you could mess up a caramel latte that bad.” He heard.

Caramel latte? The voice sounded familiar but he was hopeful that maybe, just maybe it wasn’t you.

“And the next day, god Jeno, I ordered a tea because I was so nervous to order a coffee and all I got was hot water, then I stopped going until you went back.” It was you, This was the worst-case scenario and it was you, the cute customer that he had developed a tiny, little crush on. He tried to remember how he had made your orders, and he swore he made them the way he asked. But how was he supposed to remember anything correctly when he was up before 10 every day and coming in contact with a hundred people?

“Yeah, I can do Friday morning, see you then.” Had Jaemin missed the rest of the conversation? It seemed so.

“So Mr. Makes the Worst Cup of Coffee, how was your day?” Jeno smirked.

Jaemin scoffed, “We don’t even know if it was me.”

Jeno burst out laughing immediately going to explain that those were the days that he was sick while Jaemin yelled over him stating that perhaps, perhaps, it was another barista you were talking about. But they both knew that no one else that worked in the cafe drank anything nearly as strong as Jaemin’s iced americano. Jaemin sighed having clearly lost the argument, “How do you know them anyway?”

“We’re the same major,” Jeno answered with a simple shrug. Maybe it wasn’t too late for a change in major.

This customer was so close to home and he had somehow ruined one of the things he prided himself on. He was so proud of his barista abilities, it was a passion of his. Customers constantly came back for his drinks specifically, left him tips (for his drinks or looks- he didn’t care), asked when Jaemin would be back on his days off, and he had gotten employee of the month a few times.

After that night, you had not left Jaemin’s mind. It was like all he could think about was you. When he saw Jeno, every day, he wondered if Jeno had seen you. When he woke up every morning he remembered that you were up early, bright-eyed and ready to take on the day. At work, he constantly wondered if maybe you would come in and order something. Walking across campus he wondered if he maybe had a class in the same buildings as you. At this point, it was no longer a little crush on the cute customer that came in twice a couple weeks ago, it was a crush on a friend of a friend, someone that he could actually potentially meet one day.

Maybe he could run into you on campus, leaving the library after studying so hard that he could offer to buy you a cup of coffee. There could be a party soon that the two of you would magically bump into each other at where he could blow you away with his bartending skills. It was such a weird thing for Jaemin to experience, imagining what might be with someone he didn’t know beyond being a customer. He had been in relationships before but never had there been a person that consumed his every thought.

Granted the day after the call, Jaemin did feel a little- or really a lot of anger towards you saying he made the worst cup of coffee that he did actually let his anger fuel his day. He was flipping violently through textbooks, punching away at the keys on his computer, nearly ripping through sheets of paper with the pressure of his pencil. He didn’t like this feeling, he had to remind himself to calm down and take deep breaths. No one had ever made him feel this angry, if it was even anger that he was feeling or maybe just sadness poorly masked as anger. That made much more sense, it really did pay off to have taken that psychology class his first semester.

You had become so involved in every part of Jaemin’s day that he just wondered if in this very moment he was imagining you walking out of Starbucks while he sat at a red light on a sunny Friday morning. Had his mind become so powerful that he could now make things and people appear out of thin air? He hadn’t tried that since he was a kid, but maybe he had just become more powerful. It couldn’t be you though right? He knew there was no way he had super powers, but there was also no way it actually was you, it would be the biggest coincidence. He rolled down the passenger side window, leaning closer to the sidewalk where you were walking towards the parking lot and gasped when he realized that his imagination was in fact, not playing tricks on him, it really was you.

“Are you cheating on us?!” He screeched. Uh oh, he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. The stupid mermaid was just staring at him mockingly, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. It was the worst word vomit he had ever experienced.

You stopped and squinted trying to look at who had just yelled at you, lucky for you Jaemin was still in shock from actually yelling that he was frozen still with a hand clasped over his mouth. Yup, that would be the person that yelled. You looked him dead in the eye and took a long sip of the drink in hand. “Tastes better than yours.” You cheekily called back.

Jaemin’s jaw dropped, he was so ready to defend his barista title, his locally-owned cafe, but the car behind him seemed to think the opposite thanks to its incessant honking because the light had been green for more than 10 seconds. Once again, you had plagued his thoughts, not necessarily in a good way though. You had betrayed him-no, you hadn’t but he was dramatic.

He could at least spend some time away from you, it’s not like he saw you out in public very often, ever saw you on campus, or came in during his shift. He was lost in his thoughts as he walked through the door to his apartment. He heard Jeno laugh, then a new voice. Very odd, but he put on a smile and reminded himself to be polite.

“Hi- oh you,” Jaemin said.

“Nice to finally meet you properly, please don’t yell at me again.” You smiled playfully.

Jeno’s eyes widened comically in shock, immediately interrogating Jaemin. Why would Jaemin think it’s okay to yell at someone he doesn't know? Much less one of Jeno’s friends. Jaemin really did try to defend himself, but every time he tried to make a point it just didn’t make sense. He sounded so stupid. “I am so sorry about him.” Jeno apologized, elbowing Jaemin’s rib.

“I’m sorry too, it was inappropriate and rude of me to yell at you.” Jaemin recited. This was not the first time he had had to apologize for yelling at someone in public.

You waved the both of them off, “I was messing around, it’s nice to match a name to a face.”

Jaemin made his way to his room like a scolded child while you and Jeno returned to the screens in front of you, already typing away before the bedroom door even shut. Jaemin made a promise to himself that he would stay in his room until you left. There was no way that he would go out there and risk even more embarrassment in front of you, not just the customer he had a small crush on but the innocent pedestrian he yelled at that very morning. His mind was swirling with regret and thoughts of how badly he had messed up any chance he had with you. He could not go out there and ruin any remaining chance of friendship or even acquaintanceship, or even risk you going to Starbucks every day and never going back to the cafe. Half an hour later he pulled a pillow over his face to muffle his groans, these thoughts were making him crazy, one groan from his throat and a rumble from his stomach. There was no way he could wait until you left now, he had to get food.

Jeno looked up as the door opened, “Right on time, does chicken sound good for dinner?”

Jaemin nodded, ready to turn back and relax on his bed but instead he lingered in his doorway. He ignored the nerves in his stomach and decided that the best decision as a host in his home would be to not leave you alone while Jeno called in the order. Even if he did think you were a little bit of a treacherous snake- from a business standpoint of course.

He cleared his throat, effectively grabbing your attention, “So uh, what are you guys working on?”

“Jeno and I are partners for a project in a communications class so we have to analyze a bunch of sources and then explain why the audience could interpret each source in different ways.” You answered simply with a shrug, as if you had just told him how to make toast.

“Well that’s cool…”

It was now or never. He could talk to you now and clear the air in hopes of perhaps forming a friendship or he could stay quiet and try his best to enjoy the awkward environment. He let out a breathy, nervous laugh, drawing your attention back, “So I think I heard you say I make the, what was it? Oh, the shittiest cup of coffee you’ve ever had.”

Your eyes widened, “No, no, no! I didn’t say that exactly, I did say though, it was the worst coffee I ever had.”

“How badly could I have messed up your order? So badly that you had to go to Starbucks apparently.”

“I had ordered an almond milk caramel latte and received a coffee with not only no milk at all, so it wasn’t even a latte, but also no form of sweetness. On top of that, I had one sip at the beginning of the day that kept me awake and energized until midnight. And! You gave me tea with no tea. Surprisingly though, you are not the worst barista in the cafe.” You responded with a playful roll of your eyes.

Jaemin choked on his spit, “What do you mean? I remember the first day you came in while I was making my coffee… you got my coffee.” He dropped to his knees, “Forgive me, please.”

You threw your head back with a laugh, “Get up, I’ve already forgiven you. Jeno talks about you a lot, so I was actually looking forward to meeting you anyway, even if we did start off on not so great terms.”

“They said about 20 or 30 minutes, you good?” Jeno asked as he reentered the room.

You smiled with a nod, “We’re becoming the best of friends.”

Jaemin blushed, ready to get your attention off of him, “So, you said I don’t carry the title for worst barista.”

“Wait really? Who is it then, best to worst go!” Jeno exclaimed.

“First, is your owner, Johnny, right? Man, he makes a delicious caramel latte, the best I have ever had. Next, I guess would be Ren-”

“Renjun?!” Jeno and Jaemin interrupted.

“Well yeah, he’s super nice and added caramel syrup to the milk I think? Not sure, it was really good, and he added the cutest little drawing on my cup. You guys aren’t last or anything though, Haechan is.” You told them with a shudder.

You all burst out laughing as you recounted the time that Haechan had yelled at you while taking a phone order and ended up sliding a half filled, kids size cup of water across the counter with your name. Another time he was so busy flirting with another customer throughout the whole process of taking and making your order that he had given them your drink too and just given you a pastry instead. Jeno told you guys about a time that Haechan had poured coffee beans on the floor, not once or even twice, but three times in one four hour shift. Jaemin added his own story where Haechan had convinced a handful of customers that they were out of coffee until Johnny came in from the back with a bag of coffee beans.

You all wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes as you tried to catch your breaths from laughing so hard. Jeno sat up when he heard a knock on the door. It was probably the delivery man.

Jaemin looked over at you, a happy smile still on his face. “You know, I would really like it if I could actually make it up to you.”

“Free coffee?” You asked excitedly.

He laughed awkwardly, “Uh no, I uh, um- I think you’re really... cool?”

“This is fucking painful. Jaemin thinks you’re cute and this is his lame attempt at asking you out on a date.” Jeno jumped in, setting the bag of food on the dining table.

You flushed, immediately feeling hot, “I would actually really like that.”

The dinner was clouded with awkwardness, little glances here and there paired with a little conversation. Now that you both knew you at least kind of liked each other, and were interested in one another there was no way he could ruin his chance by saying something embarrassing. All the conversations were basic, surface-level, first day of class icebreaker, boring. What’s your major? What do you want to do with your major? What year are you? How long have you and your best friend since birth lived together?

“Maybe it was better when you hated each other, I can practically feel the tension.” Jeno sighed, reaching his hands forward to “grab” the tension. Maybe Jeno would eat his words when the sparks began flying after the first date, maybe. Yeah, probably.

BONUS

“I’ve had a really good time with you.” Jaemin smiled down at the ground. The blush on his cheeks was hot while your hand in his was warm.

“I’ve had a great time with you too, you really made up for all your little mishaps.” You replied.

Jaemin laughed, “Which reminds me, I have to finally show you that I am in fact the best barista, ever. Would you mind if we stopped by the cafe?”

You shook your head, holding his hand tighter on the walk to the cafe. He held the door open for you and guided you towards an empty seat close to the counter so you could both still talk to one another.

“Welcome! Oh, Jaemin was this your date? I’ve seen you here before right? I’m Johnny, the owner.” Johnny greeted with a smile.

“Nice to meet you too, I love your cafe. Jaemin is making me a replacement drink since he ruined the first couple of drinks. He doesn’t have to, but he practically insisted.”

“And you didn’t call and complain? You must have really liked him.” Johnny laughed.

You couldn’t fight the heat creeping up your neck, so you quickly looked away from the owner standing in front of you to avoid more embarrassment.

“Ah, I’ve never made you this nervous! Here is your iced caramel latte with almond milk.” Jaemin teased as he set the drink in front of you. He looked at you expectantly, awaiting your verdict.

You took a sip, pleasantly surprised with the familiar taste of your favorite drink. “It’s so good! Thank you.”

“Better than Johnny and Renjun?” Jaemin asked.

“Maybe stop the questions while you’re ahead buddy, there’s no way it could be better than mine. Hope to see you soon.” Johnny smirked as you both left.

Jaemin pouted the whole way back to your apartment, you had to reassure him that it was so good that soon he would get sick of seeing your face around the cafe.

He stopped in front of your door, “I don’t think I could ever get sick of your face, so I would really like to take you out again.”

“I would really love that, goodnight Jaemin.” You smiled, pulling him in for a hug before making your way inside.

Jaemin smiled, stepped back from your door and slowly began to make his way home. Walking slowly as his thoughts were filled with date ideas, your face, and just how amazing you truly were. He was so in his head that he didn’t even realize you had come back out to see him again until he felt you tug on his wrist so he could face you.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly.

He smiled widely, nodding energetically as he placed a hand on your waist to pull you closer, inviting you to do as you please. Your hands came up to the nape of his neck, nervously playing with his hair before you finally pressed your lips to his own. A short but passionate kiss, it was like your lips were made for one another.

“I’ll see you soon, text me when you get home.” You told him bashfully, holding onto his hand until it eventually fell from the distance between you two. He agreed, locking eyes with you until you were out of his sight and there was no possibility of you ever leaving his mind. Sparks indeed.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop reactions #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fic #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #jaemin fluff #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct au #nct dream au

337 notes · View notes

floraltypes · 3 years

Text

Owe Me a Coffee

who - gibbs x reader

tw - mentions of sex, fires, blood, beatings, death

an - I took french for two years, but I’m not fluent and had to use a translating app so I hope it isn’t too bad ! Request something as well, I finally got them working :)

uneditied :/

“Damn you DiNozzo,” You cursed, staring at the man and moving your hand to smack him up besides the head.

You couldn’t help but think back to this morning, getting stuck with the annoying, cocky, flirty, obnoxious, co-worker. Doing a undercover mission with him definitely wasn’t your first choice, you’d rather do paperwork at this point.

“Huh?” You looked at Gibbs like he had just said a alien had landed down at the NCIS building asking for you. “You want me with Tony?”

“Yeah, did I say it in some other language? You and DiNozzo are going undercover, found a marine’s wife dead, along with her killers. Abby was able to access their computers and found out they were doing hit man work, and the director wants us to locate their boss. But since the two are dead now, we need some people to go undercover, you two,” He reminded you, reading the case the five of you were all taking on now.

“Oh, ho, ho!” Tony laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him. “Looks like little Y/n finally gets a chance with the Tony master.”

“Tony master? Is that another cocky Tony name to make him feel better about himself?” Ziva wondered.

“It’s what my last babe called me, the master, so why not add Tony in front of it?” He smiled, getting smacked in the back of the head by Gibbs.

“You’ll be undercover, not as yourselves. So, refrain from the names DiNozzo.”

“Got it boss!” He exclaimed, shooting you a wink before you turned back to your computer.

“L/n, Elevator, now.” Gibbs commanded, and you quickly stood up to follow after him.

“Do you ever wonder who Gibbs is getting it with?” David asked, standing beside DiNozzo and McGee as they watched you and Gibbs enter the elevator.

“It’s ‘getting it on with’ and yes, I think we all do.” Tony corrected her. “But I doubt he is, because if he was, he might be happier.”

“Well, just because you go to school, it doesn’t make you smart. A perfect example is you, Tony,” David turned towards the man with a smile and pinched his cheek, Tony slapping the hand away.

“I actually get some, doubt Probie has ever had any.”

“Well, I actually-“

“If you have to say ‘actually’ while talking about sex it’s probably a lie. So, probie, just dream out your fantasies without getting them mixed up with real life,” DiNozzo smirked, smacking his back while moving to his own computer.

You were on the elevator, looking at your boss who clicked the ‘Emergency Stop’ button, causing the transportation to pause its route.

“Yeah, Gibbs?” You leaned onto the back of the elevator, a small smile playing out on your lips as you smiled at the man.

“I’m putting you on because I need someone convincing. So, put on your acting skills and make it work,” He mentioned, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, yeah. I took drama for two years in high school just for this moment,” You joked. “You’re going to owe me a nice, creamed, coffee because of this.”

“And if I don’t? Right now, I’m your boss, I can’t be your boyfriend.”

“Good to know, boss.” You moved in front of him and unlocked the button. “I’ll keep that in mind for my acting, I just hope you don’t mind, boss,” The doors soon opened and you exited, walking into Abby’s area.

“Ah Gibbs! L/n! What do I owe this pleasure?” Abby greeted, taking a large sip of her drink.

“Are you running the prints on the gun found by the female hit man?” Gibbs asked as you took a seat on one of Abby’s chairs.

“Of course!” Abby hopped up and moved over to her machine, pointing to it, showcasing that it was running. “Working on it right now. But, I don’t think you’ll find much luck with it considering it was the same gun used to kill the commanders wife.”

“Well, we don’t know that for sure, so work on that. L/n,”

“But I want to chat with my dear friend before moving on,” You whined, while he shot you a stern look in return. “I’m going,” You quickly stood up, following the man out.

“I want you to go upstairs and get ready with DiNozzo,” He demanded and you just nodded.

“Right. On my way!” You yelled, running to the elevator. “I’m thrilled for this, but even more thrilled to finish this mission and go on a date,”

“Have fun with that.”

“I will! Hopefully Palmer will as well,” The elevator doors shut and Gibbs continued to make his way down to the Autopsy room to speak with Ducky. Now, not to thrilled at the mans assistant.

You arrived back upstairs, looking at the agent who had his feet on his desk and talking on the phone.

“Who is he chatting with? Gibbs wants us ready,” You commented, moving by Ziva and McGee who were watching him.

“Some girl, someone named Louis,” McGee answered.

“That sounds like a older woman’s name,” Ziva added.

“Yeah. Hey, McGee,” The man looked up from where he was watching DiNozzo and turned to face you. “Remember when you gave me food poisoning, and felt so bad you promised you give me a favor. Well, I want to turn that in now,” You smiled at him, writing down a note on a piece of paper and handing it to him.

“What are you up to?” Ziva asked as McGee left the two of you, heading to his own computer.

“Having some fun with a certain co worker who is going to ruin my night,” You got up from Ziva and moved over to DiNozzo. “Who are you chatting with?”

“A babe,” He mouthed, smiling as you could hear the little rambles on the phone.

“Gibbs wants you ready to go in twenty. And I know it takes you thirty to just do your hair, so, maybe you should cut the phone call.”

He put his hand to cover the speaker on the phone, taking his legs off the desk, and leaving in closer to you. “And you need forty to suck in that gut,”

You laughed, reaching over to grab the phone and putting it to you ear. “Tony! I got you your superhero costume, sweetie! We can now go and dress up together, but not in those tighty whities,” You voiced into the phone, slamming it down and looking at his stunned face. “Never comment on a woman’s weight, now, get ready for tonight because I’m not easy to please.”

The man mocked you for a moment and then left his desk, you turning to look back at Ziva.

“Impressive,” She complimented, walking by you and patting your shoulder.

“Thanks, I’m just starting,” You smiled at the girl, grabbing your gun and sticking your knife into the pocket inside your custom made boots.

You soon got yourself ready in a nice short, red dress that fit your body well enough that you were comfortable, and able to hide a knife around your thigh area.

“Ready yet Y/n?” DiNozzo knocked on the door, fixing his tie and suit.

“Wow Tony, you do know how to clean up,” Ziva commented, coming up behind him, in front of the restroom door, with McGee.

“Thank you, Ziva,”

“Well, besides the tag sticking out in the back. Are you really that cheap? I thought you took, uh, pride in your choice of clothing,”

“I don’t see the point on wearing something very expensive to a undercover date,” He told her back.

“You also missed a spot when shaving,” McGee pointed out, pointing to the far right side of Tony’s face.

“Shut it Probie. At least I didn’t need mommy to help me shave in highschool,”

“Abby told you about that?”

“Well, now she did,”

You opened the door and flattened your dress, then fixing a ring on your pointer finger and smiled at the three other special agents.

“Tony, didn’t you need your mom to help you do your laundry in highschool? Not one to speak,”

“You look well. Didn’t know you were even able to-” You whipped out your knife from underneath your dress and pointed it at the man. “You look stunning, great, nice.”

“Looks like you’re on a thin glacier, Tony,” Ziva laughed.

“I think it’s thin ice,” McGee corrected.

“Same thing!” Ziva threw her hands in the air. “Y/n, I didn’t know you had those moves,”

“Yeah, not a lot of people do. I like to hold some secrets with the team, and my past career is one of them,” You smiled.

“Let’s go,” Tony gripped your hand and intertwined it with his. “My love,” He gritted through his teeth.

“Not too convincing DiNozzo,” Gibbs walked over, smacking the back of his head. “You don’t treat a lady like that. Grip the hand like this,” He smoothly let his hand move its way to yours and he gently connected it with yours. “Even McGee knows this,” He smiled at you and let your hand go.

“I-I know how to do it, boss. Just- nevermind,” He grumbled, loosening his grip.

“I’m starving, care to escort me to the car, Armon?” You got yourself ready to take on your character, smiling at the man besides you with one as if you were really happy with the situation you were in.

“Anything for you, Belle,” The two of you made your way out of the building. Your fellow co-workers watched as the two of you walked away, yet, you were both still messing with each other and hitting while walking out.

“My last wife tend to do that,” Gibbs commented, soon making his way after you two to get into his own undercover van.

“Is that a normal thing for American couples?” Ziva asked McGee.

“Well, I’m not sure. But I have seen plenty of married couples do that, so they’ll fit right in,” He answered, the two then leaving as well.

Once arriving to the hotel, you waited for DiNozzo to open your door and grab your hand to lead you out of the car and into the new building. While clutching your purse and waiting behind a few other guests who were trying to get in, you turned to fix Tony’s glasses and clicked the ‘on’ button.

“Looking swell, honey,” You smiled at him as he placed a arm over your shoulder.

“Thank you. I’m thrilled we were able to get these reservations, dinner should be delicious tonight. You’ll be getting the salad, like normal, correct?” He looked down at you and you stepped on his foot as the line moved forward.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry! I always have the most trouble in heels like these, oh the line, hurry up now!” You voiced, walking into the hotel and following everyone else into the dining area.

“We should look for our names now,” He told you, sneaking up from behind as the two of you searched the tables for little cards with your last names on it. “Bingo! Right next to the Lezarres,”

“Oh and the Garndels are here as well. I’ve heard some things about them,” You added, letting Tony pull out a chair as you took a seat.

The both of you introduced yourself to the other couples and went through the night engaging in some small talk about politics and the food. You and DiNozzo had done a swell job at it and you retreated to the rest room at the end of dinner to hear any new news.

“So, what’s the update?” You asked into the little microphone hidden in your bracelet.

“There’s a hotel room in your name, bought out by your boss and, uh, boss wants you two to stay in there,” McGee told you into the ear piece which was located in your right ear.

“Great, more time with that stupid bastard. He couldn’t shut up about himself at dinner, like always, I’m really contemplating divorce,” You muttered, fixing your lipstick as another woman walked out, moving to wash her hands.

“I know just how you feel, best of luck,” She mentioned before walking out.

“Thanks,” You spoke back to her before turning your attention back to the mirror. “Do we think this boss of mine is going to go after the commander of that wife?”

“Yeah, Gibbs want you to stop him before he does. We have no clue who the boss is but he will be visiting the both of you tonight,”

“Got it,”

“Y/n!” Gibbs spoke now into the earpiece on the other end.

“Yeah?”

“If he got the hotel room, expect it to be bugged. So, you better act,”

“No worries. I’ve had to act in the bedroom before, and past boyfriends sure believed it,” You walked out of the bathroom and stood next to Tony. “Hun, my feet are killing me. I think it’s time we head to the hotel room and rest,” Tony nodded and stood up from his seat. The both of you said a goodbye to the couple and got your key from the front desk, soon getting into the elevator.

“So, a hotel room? Really want to sleep with me tonight, huh?” Tony laughed to himself as you positioned yourself in front of him and kissed his cheek, soon moving your lips closer to his ear.

“Room could be bugged, even the elevator, time to act,” You whispered, pulling back and placing a small kiss on his lips.

“Oh dear, if you really want me no need to ask,” He moved a arm around your waist, pulling you into his side a bit.

“The bags should already be in the room,” You smirked at him, and were soon at your level, the both of you getting off the elevator.

Once getting into your room you took off your heels and placed your bracelet on the table.

“I’m going to take a shower, care to join?” You commented, moving to the bathroom and starting the shower.

“It would be my pleasure,” He walked into the bathroom and started to unzip his pants.

“Babe, be patient,” You slapped his shoulder. “Turn around now, you know how self conscious I am,”

“That’s why I warned you not to eat that cake at dinner, my piece too,” He grumbled, turning around and lifting up his shirt as you took off your clothes and stepped into the shower.

“It was just so good! Being the loving, husband you are, I knew you wouldn’t mind,”

“Yeah, anything for you,” He stepped into the shower while your arms were trying to cover your breasts and vaginal area.

“Don’t look, just act,” You quietly scolded. “And try to cover your, uh,” You subtly moved a finger to point in the downwards direction and he quickly moved his hands there.

“Need another hand to help cover yours?” He joked, moving a little closer.

“I’ll kill you,” You mumbled. “Oh! Armon!” You moaned, Tony sending a sly smile and grunting. “You look like you’re enjoying this,”

“Might want to cover up that breast a little better,” He removed one hand to point at your left one.

“Damn it,” You did just that and reached for a towel which was on the toilet lid. “Ah, soap in the eye,” You voiced louder, just in case the man was listening and skeptical about it. You turned around from Tony and wrapped it around your chest area, then moving both hands to block your other.

“You really think they’re listening to us in here?”

“A good boss would. Especially if he is in this type of business.”

“I hate to know about some of your previous bosses,”

“Oh! Right there! Right there!” You yelled. “Yeah, you would. Most of them are dead though, so you won’t have to worry about that,”

“Old age, huh? What’s with old men being bosses anyways?”

“One was, but that’s not how he died. Man was a perve, had it coming,” You shrugged.

“You killed him?!”

“No, no. Not for that reason,” Tony’s mouth dropped. “Ah!” You yelled loudly, then making your breaths sound loud. “Gosh you are one messy man, good thing we did this in the water,” You smirked at DiNozzo who just mocked you.

“And you still are the easiest to ge-”

“I’m getting out now, you should too,” You removed the towel and let it drop to the floor of the shower, covering your breasts and looking for a robe, soon wrapping it around you.

While leaving the bathroom to grab your shirt and pants you heard the phone in the room start to ring and quickly rushed to it.

“Hello, Belle,” The man on the other line spoke into the phone. You could just imagine what he looked like, some rich guy with a cigar in his hand wanting some job done.

“Bonjour Monsieur,” You spoke, grateful that your mother had taught you french when you were young. “C’est qui je pense?”

(Hello, sir. Is this who I think it is?)

“Oui. Retrouvez-moi dans le salon. À neuf heures,”

(Yes. Meet me down in the lounge area. At nine o’clock.)

“D’accord. Au revoir,”

(Okay. Goodbye)

You placed the phone down, and grabbed your clothes, quickly changing into them as Tony emerged from the bathroom with his wet hair clinging to his forehead and a new, comfortable outfit on.

“Who was that, dear?” He asked, sneaking over by you.

“Un ami,” You smiled at him, tapping his nose.

“Uh, yeah,” He nodded, clearly not understanding and you just tried to stifle a laugh. “You know, grandpa, uh, Gibbs, he wants us to figure out when we should have dinner with him,”

“Ah. How about we go over for a breakfast at nine. He just got his living room refinished not too long ago, correct?”

“Sounds good. And never call me a grandpa again, DiNozzo,” Gibbs spoke into both of your earpieces.

“It’s almost nine already. I should go and ask for a extra pillow, sweetie. Get the bed ready for us, can you?” You grabbed your hotel key and put on your special boots. “No need to dress so fancy for getting something so simple,”

“DiNozzo, go with her,” Gibbs commanded. “David and McGee are heading to the lounge area now,”

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” DiNozzo asked you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little pillow, nothing too much,” You kissed his cheek and quickly left the room. While walking down the hallway to the elevator, you took a quick look around to make sure you weren’t being followed.

Once waiting for the elevator, you fixed your boots a bit and entered when the doors opened. There was no one inside, so you pressed the ‘1st level’ button. When getting near the ‘2nd level’ the elevator stopped, indicating someone was going to get on.

It was a staff member in their normal uniform. He smiled at you with blankets in his hand and entered.

“Puis-je vous aider avec quoi que ce soit, mademoiselle?” He questioned, pulling out a gun from his side and opened the elevator door once again for two new men to appear.

(Can I help you with anything, miss?)

“Oui. En me alissa the vivre,” You told him, one of the man entering the elevator and pulling you out, the man in the staff uniform having his gun pointed at you.

(Yes. By letting me live.)

“Tsk. Ne peut faire. Vous souvenez-vous de moi?”

(No can do. Do you remember me?)

“Vous n’avez pas l’air familier,” You spoke, getting dragged down the hallway as someone reached into your ear and broke the earpiece.

(You don’t look familiar.)

“Enough of this french,” The man who was dragging you sneered. “I want to hear this bitch speak,”

“Fine,” The one in the staff uniform sighed. “I don’t think you’re the person we’re looking for. It’s a shame you think we were that stupid to not know what our employees look like,”

“You’re just so intelligent,” You commented, getting kicked in the back of the leg.

“I was speaking. You really played it off, the whole sex thing. But it’s a shame you won’t have anymore time with him, he won’t get his little pillow. At least I won’t have to worry about the real couple anymore, they knew too much and I couldn’t let that get out. All I have to do is deal with you,”

“That will be harder than you think,” You told him, the grip on your arm tightening.

“I’m always a fan of having some fun,”

“They’re going to find the bullet your men used to kill the couple. You knew we were here since the beginning,”

“Correct,” One of the men opened the door and you were led in. “With you posing as the couple, you were able to gain a connection with the couples you were seated with. That way, we could then swoop in and learn more about them, giving us the opportunity to hack into their phone and get the passwords needed,”

“You’re stupid to tell me this. I could’ve figured it out on my own, my team probably already has,” One man then put you in a chair and started to tie you up, the one in the staff uniform kicking you in the gut so you fell backwards.

“Lift her up again. I want to have my fun before she must go, I hope you don’t mind the heat,” The second man lifted your chair up and a few more punches were landed on your body.

“Tu es une racaille,” You mumbled, trying to move your arm in the tight ropes.

(You’re scum.)

“Let’s go,” The head man told the other two. One of them grabbed a gas can nearby and started to pour it on the bedsheets. The head man grabbed a match from his pocket and lit it, throwing it on the bed for the flames to begin. “Au revoir,”

They left the room and you struggled to try and move one arm.

Meanwhile DiNozzo was in the elevator with his gun in pocket, going down to the lounge area.

“Y/n can’t hear us anymore,” DiNozzo voiced into his microphone. “Did she make it to the lounge?”

“No. Damn it DiNozzo, I told you to stay with her,” Gibbs spoke, looking at DiNozzo once the elevator door opened. “David, Mcgee, take the back entrance me and DiNozzo will take the front and head up,” He demanded.

Everyone split up. Ziva and McGee ran to the back to catch two men rushing out. They quickly aimed their guns at them and announced their presence, only to receive some shots at them.

Ziva was able to shoot down on of the men and the other surrendered, McGee cuffing the one and letting a police who arrived take care of them.

“We didn’t call for backup,” McGee muttered to Ziva.

“Yeah, uh, someone called into 911 about a fire,” The police pointed to a window on the hotel building. “People should be evacuating the building now, firefighters are on their way,”

McGee’s mouth dropped as he stared at Ziva.

“How odd it happened tonight,” Ziva mumbled.

“It’s obviously intentional!” McGee exclaimed.

“I know that. I hope those guys don’t die,”

DiNozzo and Gibbs started to rush up the stairs, they could feel a bit of the heat from the room and were able to catch the man in the staff uniform in the stairway.

“Sir, are you alright?” DiNozzo stopped, grabbing onto his shoulders softly. “NCIS,”

“I’m fine, just startled, I need to get out of here,” He waved his hands and tried to slip away from DiNozzo’s grip.

“DiNozzo, that’s him,” Gibbs quickly told the agent who soon put the mans hands behind his back. “Where’s our agent?”

“She won’t make it, a fire like that, no one would,” He smiled and DiNozzo led him down the stairs.

Gibbs continued to rush up them, into the hallway that was catching more and more on fire.

“L/n! L/n!” He yelled, looking around to try and find your figure.

He saw you emerge into the hallway, bloodied and bruised, some of your shirt on fire, and a knife in your hand. He rushed to your side, letting you lean on him.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” He asked and you shook your head a little, letting him fully help you down the stairs and out of the building.

He guided you to the ambulance who tended to most of your wounds, but you refused to be transferred to a hospital.

“You need to go,” McGee tried to convince you, standing by your side.

“It would probably be for the best,” David chimed in.

“Hopefully, they can fix your hair too,” Tony laughed, looking you up and down.

“Damn you, DiNozzo,” You stood and smacked the back of his head, while he just laughed.

“Go home you three, I’ll make sure Y/n gets home alright,” Gibbs came over, waving the three agents off who spared a small goodbye or hand wave. “You ready to go, idiot.”

“I almost died, and you’re calling me a idiot,” You chuckled a little. “Help me to your car?” You asked and he let you lean on him once again.

Once the both of you were in the car it was a very quiet ride. You didn’t talk to each other, just letting silence from the long day overtake each other. He truly was nervous for your safety, thought the two of you hadn’t been dating long he felt a lot of compassion regarding you and wanted to continue your relationship smoothly.

“I really was worried. I told you not to go alone, you should’ve let DiNozzo go with you,” He finally spoke, once you were both in his driveway, sitting in the car, in the dark.

“I’m alive. Just got kicked around a bit, I’m super grateful I always carry that knife in my boot,” You softly told him. “Don’t worry about me too much, I may be younger than you, but I have experience.”

“I know that, just don’t be so stupid last time and take the help.”

“Fine,” Gibbs got out of his seat and moved around to your door, grabbing your hand and helping you out of the car. He smiled at the factor of how easily you trusted him to care for you. “I didn’t doubt you would get me for a minute.”

“Good, you should know that.”

“Only because you still owe me a date, and I did say I would let you pick this one out,” You looked up at him with a goofy grin. It amazed him that even with being beaten up a bit, and almost dying in a fire, you could make jokes with him.

“I say we have the little date here,” He leaned down a bit to place a gentle kiss upon your lips, smirking into it a little bit, and then moving the way you were leaning on him so he would be able to pick you up.

“Someone’s excited.”

“Let’s watch a nice movie on the couch. I bought some creamer, so, I can make that creamed coffee you wanted because now I’m your boyfriend but still pissed you made a stupid and life threatening decision in there,”

“Good enough. Palmer will have to wait. Poor kid,” You commented as Gibbs lead you to the couch and helped you rest on it, soon moving to his kitchen to start brewing a pot of coffee.

“That idiot will be fine.”

“Yeah, luckily for him, though I won’t be able to atend, I do have a friend that will,” You smiled to yourself, imagining how that would be going right now.

While you lied on the couch with your boyfriend who was, secretly, doting on you, giving you his undivided attention. DiNozzo was at a bar, chatting with someone while looking around for them.

“She said she would be at this booth,” DiNozzo whispered to himself, wallking to the booth in the corner for where they shall meet. “God, she looked so good in her profile picture, I’m so- Palmer?!”

“Tony?” He looked up from his seat. “You’re Y/n’s friend? I guess I didn’t specify the gender, and she didn’t say a specific name.”

“Y/n? She’s not that good at compute- Damn, probie.”

#leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #gibbs x y/n #gibbs x you #ncis fandom #ncis fanfiction #ncis x reader #ncis fic

334 notes · View notes

xxsmokeyy · 4 years

Text

Levi x Reader (F) It’s The Tea

genre: fluff, canon divergence — coffee shop setting

summary: a misplaced table and a pair of hands that had a knack for good tea; you wonder what brought Humanity’s Strongest to your shop.

wc: 6,262

part II

“I’ll have one flat white,” a customer says as she picks money from her coin purse. You give her a smile after receiving her payment, the exact amount saving you the task of calculating change.

“Coming right up.” And you make your way to the coffee beans to make the blend she ordered. She watches in patience as you skillfully maneuver around the counter, getting everything done along the process. You incline the porcelain a little to make for the finishing art, steamed milk piercing through the coffee and creating a signature shape. In no time, you hand her the drink on top of a saucer.

She silently nods as brief thanks, and as soon as she turns her back to you, you dart your eyes on a table of one by the far right windowpane. You carefully spectate her and what direction she’s going. She’s going to the table!

The make-do suspense keeps you on your toes as you look at her intently, breath slightly hitching, waiting for her to sit on the lone chair. The woman navigates across the room, heading straight for your wishful desires. Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, witnessing the life-changing moment unravel before your eyes. No way. She really is.

The cup of coffee on her left hand, she uses her right to move the chair to take a seat. But just when she’s about to pull it back, someone calls her from another table, waving at her excitedly.

You stand upright and alert while your scrutinizing gaze follow her movements. She looks at where the voice is coming from, and almost immediately, her face brightens upon seeing who. Her right hand lets go of the wooden furniture and proceeds to where the caller sits. You look at her destination and find three people on a table of four. It doesn’t take long before she takes the free seat and starts chatting with them.

Your body slumps back with a disappointed sigh. Looks like no one’s sitting there yet again.

It’s the closest call you’ve ever had after years of this shop’s existence. Why no one chooses to sit there is beyond you. Either your customers are not alone, or they are, but only to take out their orders. Actually, even if they’re alone, they’d take the table for two instead. Do they not want to look lonely that bad? You groan in annoyance.

The table consists of a small, circular table and a single chair by the window. In your mightiest opinion, it’s the perfect place to just sit down, enjoy a cup of hot coffee, and read a book. But nobody’s ever done that through the passing years, and you can only witness the table being neglected by people.

It irks you a little. Could there have been another way to maximize the space that stemmed from unproportional construction? Maybe it really is time to remove those. Maybe it’s not really a big deal.

You’ve been contemplating too many times replacing it with a plant vase or a decorative ornament to take up the space since it’s of no use anyway. But something just tells you you shouldn’t. Besides, just thinking thinking about feels costly.

The rest of the day goes by quickly, and before you know it, you’ve opened the store again, serving customers after customers. This time, you never gave the table another glance. Surprisingly enough, you spent the whole night debating with yourself on what decoration you should fill the space with. A nice bookshelf would’ve been good, but you decided to go with a monstera plant to make use of the window right by it. Not until your day off, though, which is still on Sunday.

Having consecutively served around six customers and cleaned used tables, you sit and take a breather, resting your eyes by reading a book to let a couple minutes go by.

You slowly get sucked into the story, the marvelous art of prose bringing you into the plot’s little universe. The way the writer used the most fitting descriptive words possible astounds you, making a smile of enjoyment involuntarily creep up your lips. Somehow, you think writing is similar to making coffee, mixing different elements to create the perfect blend, the sole goal of making an exquisite taste that will leave people aching for more? Oh, and they both smell good, books and coffee. A chuckle leaves your lips.

Just when you’re deep in thought, things starting to stir up in the narration, someone speaks in front of you.

“One black tea,” a stern voice curtly orders, interrupting your peace. Harshly brought back to reality, you rise to your feet to resume to work. First tea of the day, huh?

Sure, your shop is known for its good coffee, but your tea can put up for a competition, too. It’s just that these days, coffee is more on the popular side, since tea can be made in almost any household now.

You close your book to attend to the customer, but not without leaving a bookmark on the current page. When you look at him, you almost freeze in your tracks. Well if it isn’t Humanity’s Strongest himself!

A pair of dazing stale eyes bore into your own with an unreadable expression and you compose yourself. Crap, you must have been caught giggling to yourself. You feel heat speedily cover your cheeks, turning you to a blushing mess. How shameful.

“Pardon me,” you excuse, clearing your throat before telling him the price. He wordlessly fishes for his wallet and pays. He does find you a bit weird, laughing at nothing, but pays it no more mind. He’s supposed to be on leisure, not meddling with some brat’s uncanny actions.

As you turn your back to make his beverage, you squint your eyes in loss of face. It really is the Captain Levi, and you probably looked like a creep in his eyes. Now what will become of your shop’s repute?

You shove the thought to the back of your head and start working. The ravenhead watches back as you work your hands into making a, hopefully, good blend. Your heart is beating wildly inside your chest like it’s about to jump off your rib cage, but you try to ignore it. The thought of a widely known persona such as him inside your very shop is crazy. To what do you even owe this pleasure?

Oh well, you’ll just pour your heart into making his tea, that way you might erase his ridiculous impression of you in his head. Hey! What’s so bad about giggling while reading? your subconscious tries to defend while you strain the boiled tea leaves into a clean china. The earthly smell hits your nose, making you want one, too.

You smile as you hand over the teacup. “Thank you for your service,” you add, even going as far as bowing. The moment the phrase escapes your lips, you regret it right away. Chills shoot up your spine. It sounds so awkward and unnecessary, but should you just treat the Captain like any other people knowing he’s done so much for your country?

Your cheeks flush into a faint, pink color. Thankfully, you’re slightly angled downwards, he might not see. Levi only eyes you for a second before nodding and taking the cup of tea in his hands, his calloused fingers grazing your hands fleetingly.

When you hear his footsteps fade, you rise and rub a palm against your face. You hesitantly take a glance toward the Captain, and shock takes over your whole system. To be totally honest, you never thought you’d see the day someone would sit on that table.

He looks perfectly placed on the table, like it’s reserved a long time just for him. He’s in civillian clothes, probably to not attract a lot of people. The sunlight gives his face a pretty sheen, the air from the window blowing lightly on his dark fringes. Your heart continues to skip several beats for no clear reason. Maybe that is the reason why your instincts keep telling you to not replace it.

Meanwhile, Levi sips on the freshly brewed tea, the strong flavor staining on his tongue just right. As he occupies his mind somehwere else, the taste hits better. Everything feels evenly distributed, the base smooth and pleasant, the amount of water not brimming. The temperature isn’t so bad as well.

Then and there, he guesses you source fine leaves from the innermost walls, which is a luxury at this point, not to mention your non-overpriced charge.

Not bad, he thinks.

You’re dumbstruck as you sit back in awe. You weren’t able to decipher what he’s thinking, but you know for sure he doesn’t hate it from seeing that he emptied the whole thing and left a generous tip.

You grab your tray and proceed to cleaning up the table he previously seated on, the whole decision of shopping for a plant on Sunday going down the drain.

—

It’s been a whole month since the Captain’s visit, and you think of the once in a lifetime moment often, and at times randomly. You sure as heck won’t be removing the table now that something has happened.

“Thank you,” you say as you hand the cup of coffee, serving the last one for the queue. It’s a late, cloudy afternoon, looking like it’s about to shower, and the shop is pretty dull. Well, that only means you can read more.

“Is this the shop they say sells well?” you hear someone from the ordering area. “Yeah, you go ahead,” they converse. You’re making coffee for yourself at the moment and you can’t peer to look at whose voice it is.

“What? You do it!”

“Just go! We don’t have time!”

“What the fuck? You’re the one holding the knife, aren’t you?!” a man shouts in a whisper. You can’t hear crystal clear due to being far into the counter, although you know they must be disturbing the atmosphere.

Vexed by their rowdiness, you turn around and stop making the blend. You walk to the front of the counter, “Excuse me, please lower your—”

“Give me all your money, lady. Let’s transact in peace so nobody gets hurt,” the man grabs your collar, knife pointed straight into your neck. Another man of his companion moves to the side to cover their actions. You don’t feel the sharp edge prick your skin due to intense panic.

You look around frantically, worried if there are other people harmed. To your relief, they seem to not notice anything, if you can even call that relieving. Now there must be no saving you.

“It’s alright, we won’t bring someone else into this, just do what we ask,” the other guy says, wide, haunting eyes looking straight into you. You feel cold sweat drip from your forehead.

“Now hand us what you got.”

On the other hand, Levi finishes with his errands around the capital and stumbles within your shop’s vicinity. Walking mindlessly, he checks the skies to tell the time, but sees the dark clouds instead. It seems it’s about to pour.

He’s already in front of your shop, but the threatening rain will be bigger trouble, he might get stranded if he stops by. Plus, he probably didn’t bring enough money, so he’s got no choice but head back now.

Just when he’s about to leave, his peripheral vision miraculously catches sight of your horrified expression through the window, putting him to an abrupt halt. He turns to see better, and finds two men roughing you up while trying to hide the commotion.

He clicks his tongue and spins to turn away. It’s not his business anymore, it’s for the Military Police to deal with. They might be loan sharks for all he knows, and you’d be held entirely accountable for that.

Unable to take the view of the knife pointed to your neck out of his head, he sighs defeatedly and eventually discovers himself inside the store, else it’d slowly eat at his conscience.

“Oi, what’s going on here?” he questions with a firm voice, turning heads his way.

“It’s Captain Levi from the Survey Corps!”

“What a lucky day!”

People stir up upon seeing the Captain to which he only ignores, full attention on you and the two criminals.

The robber without a weapon quickly turns around to check, shaking in fear. As he makes terrifying eye contact with the Captain, he makes haste for the door in desperate hopes of escaping, but to no avail. Levi grabs the back of the poor guy’s head and slams it against an empty table, putting him to deep sleep. Then turning to your armed assaulter, Levi closes in with big steps and takes the knife down before swinging the side of his hand, striking a nerve on the man’s neck to knock him out.

Levi perceives they’re complete amateurs and wonders why they even steal. Atleast one of them tried to run, he thinks as he looks down on the passed out crooks.

You’re not exactly sure if your heart calmed down or speeded up even more—maybe both, but you feel safe and more at ease.

Tying the last knot, he stands from his kneeled form and dusts his hands off to rid himself of the filth.

You only watch silently, mind clouded in confusion of what to do. Captain Levi came just in time and saved you and your shop of possible bankruptcy. Say, it could have been the worst timing considering you haven’t cleared your cash box for weeks now. You’re reminded of how much you owe the Captain.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be out cold for a while, just call the MP’s on them,” Levi assures before taking a glance at you and fails to understand your expression, your face looks like it’s leaking shit in his opinion.

You look at the two robbers dozing off tied together by the help of Levi and your spare rope before giving your savior another bow. “Thank you so much!” you exclaim and raise your head to meet his fierce gaze.

“And sorry for the trouble, people around here can get belligerent, especially to us business owners,” you add.

He observes you from head to toe, eyes particularly lingering on your neck, and you blush in embarrassment, feeling his hot stare.

“Is there—?”

He takes something from his pocket and offers you a handkerchief which you cluelessly accept. You later on realize what it’s for, finally feeling a sting on your neck. You wipe the bleeding area and see trails of crimson on your apron as well.

With no reason to stay any longer, Levi steers to leave, but is just in time to witness the rain pour down heavily, big droplets washing against the windows. He sighs, it’s just as he guessed.

You, on contrast, get an idea to show your gratitude, feeling a physical candle light up in your brain. “Captain Levi, please stay and let the rain pass while I brew you some coffee,” you negotiate with strong willed eyes, fixed on returning him a favor. It’s the least you could do from within your limited skills, and you’d like it if he’d accept. Actually, you won’t accept if he rejects, fully wanting to pay him back atleast a tad.

He looks back at you, slightly surprised. You seem like a more persistent person now rather than an easily flustered mess. Could he be so insensitive as to decline your generous offer after seeing your firm resolve? But more importantly, coffee? Could he be so thick-skinned as to ask for something else other than that?

When he stays quiet, you decide to go ahead and make him a drink from one of your premium coffee beans, but you’re put to a stop as he speaks.

“I’d prefer tea.”

Oh, right. He did ask for black tea a month back, didn’t he? You give him a smile and a thumbs up of approval before turning your back to make his tea.

Levi massages his temples and takes a seat, eyeing the immobilized crooks and the outside, thinking what he got himself into. It won’t be so bad to stay for a while and let the rain ease down, right?

You wait for the water to boil before dropping a bunch of mint leaves, then waiting for it to simmer. You prepare a porcelain cup and saucer and pour in the hot liquid, adding honey for a natural sweetener. You mix in a couple droplets of lemon to balance the flavor and you’re good to go.

You set the tea on his chosen table of two, giving the free seat a momentary glimpse. You wonder how it would feel like to have a proper conversation with Captain Levi, only to quickly dismiss the thought of joining him as you hear someone call you from the counter. Thankfully, people are back to minding their business and don’t bother the Captain anymore. You excuse yourself and return to work, still a couple hours away from closing time.

Levi sits back and enjoys the tea you made, soon learning it’s a fresh peppermint tea. Though it’s only the second time he’s having your brew, he doesn’t know why he already has high expectations. The choice of blend is perfect for a rainy day, and it’s exactly what he would have made when he returned back to the headquarters. You don’t really look like someone who prefers tea, but he’s impressed nevertheless.

He sips on the cup, letting the weather pass and the taste line his tongue. A variety of things occupy his mind involuntarily and before he knows it, the rain has calmed down into a shower.

He stands to leave but suddenly notices an umbrella left on his table. When did that get there? He takes a glimpse at you and finds you looking back at him with curious, alert eyes like that of a cat, immediately averting your gaze and resuming to pick up the dirtied tableware onto your tray.

Levi confirms it’s from you, and it’s another one of your acts of gratitude. He’s left with no choice and grabs it, wraps his slender fingers around the handle, and takes his leave.

Satisfied, you sigh in relief as you watch his back drift into the darkness. You look at the handkerchief in the pocket of your apron, smiling. Despite rumors of him being an unrelenting leader and a ruthless thug that stretched way back, the Captain is a kind man, isn’t he? If there really is such thing as coincidence, you’d like to consider yourself lucky for having experienced it.

—

About two more weeks pass when Levi finds himself hooked into the sweet aroma of the tea you make, the ambience of your shop’s environment, and something else he can’t put a name on. In actuality, he may or may not be using your umbrella as an excuse to go to your store right now.

He takes a glance at his hand holding the same umbrella. He briefly questions himself what he’s doing but pushes the thought aside with the use of his well thought of excuse. True enough, he can’t just go around using other people’s possession, can he?

He begins to sense the growing familiarity of your shop as he closes in. The choice of location being just at the mouth of the city, the distinct line between rural and urban is visibly emphasized.

As Levi enters through the saloon door, his eyes almost immediately find your form, leisurely reading while leaning on the counter, back turned against the entrance, your hair up in a braided bun which he finds neat. He clicks his tongue as he approaches to order.

“It’s easier to mug you that way,” he says and you jolt in surprise. Recognizing the stone cold voice, you spin to see the Captain in front of you, inside your very shop once again. This is no coincidence anymore!

“Captain Levi!” you greet with a beam, utterly delighted to see him. “Pleasant afternoon, what can I get you?” you ask and look him straight in the face. He’s in casual clothes, so you guess it’s another one of his day off’s. His sombre eyes of a unique bluish grey color take on your gaze fiercely. It’s true that the eyes convey one’s entire personality, as you feel his menace even though he doesn’t intend to display it.

“Black tea,” he says without a hitch, giving you the exact amount of money, and you proceed to your working space. Boiling of water, straining of tea leaves, pouring it into clean china; as you hand it to him, they start to resemble a routine.

He goes ahead and takes the corner table, and you couldn’t be any happier, thinking he seems to like the spot, choosing it among every other free seats. Levi takes a sip, and enjoys it with no wonder. You didn’t fail to make an exquisite blend.

A couple moments later, he’s still there. While everyone else chitchats with their company, he sits in silence with his beverage, ocassionally looking at the sky freely laid out by the window. He’s never really one to catch up with the bulletin and read daily papers, he’d prefer books for that matter.

As you wipe with a rag the empty tabletop just beside him, you see him looking at the window, cup of tea in hand. He, however, feels your stare, and wordlessly slides an umbrella on the table without batting you an eye. You recognize it as yours and take a step towards him.

“You better not have arrived home drenched that night,” he says. It’s only until he returned to the headquarters that he had realized you must have given him your only umbrella.

A chuckle leaves your mouth, aren’t you concerned. “I might have.” He clicks his tongue.

You grab it in your hands and follow his gaze, soon looking vacantly at the view as well. “You can see the skies from there, right?” you ask, earning a low hum in response.

“I wonder how far they stretch from outside on… Some say they’re boundless,” the words unconsciously slip from your mouth as you watch the clouds move. Something about relatively slow afternoons just hypnotize you to no end.

Levi shifts his gaze to your figure upon hearing a frame of your mind, finding a glimmer of ambition in the mesmerizing pools of your eyes. He can hear your train of thoughts out loud, while you wonder if you could ever get to experience the outside world. He remembers a couple friends thinking the same thing way back, and he realizes, it’s people like you that he hates to see drift away, one of those whom he feels he has to protect, though it’s not like you know each other to great extent.

He brings his cup to his lips and frankly speaks, “It’s not pretty out there.”

His words interrupt you from your daze, making you look at him. You notice he grips the teacup oddly, holding it around the mouth instead of its handle. You heave out a shallow sigh. “Figured you’d say that,” you say with a sad smile. It’s undeniable, coming from him.

You fish something from the pocket of your apron and leave it on his table, then making your way back to the counter. A seemingly little exchange of borrowed objects. He eyes his cleaned dry handkerchief and leaves a comment before you can stray farther, “It does seem endless.”

The corners of your lips upturn into a grateful smile. He really is soft. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t know exactly what you’re thanking him for.

—

Time and time passed, and he always comes every week without fail. Sometimes, when days are light, he even visits twice a week. You could say you have developed quite a relationship with the Captain, though not something that can be considered close to sentimental. The distance is still present, but you’d have small talks here and there, sometimes you’d lend him your books just so he doesn’t bore himself to death, or maybe so he’d stay a little longer.

You gradually learn to read his moods through the language of his orders. You find that he’s more of a tea lover based solely from the fact that he never once asked for coffee. Black tea is his regular, Oolong tea is when something probably turns out good or successful, since the price a little higher and you guess it’s his little way of celebrating, Chamomile tea when something is roughly off, you figure as he never speaks excessively when he orders it.

You never end up joining him, though. Of course, he always takes the table of one, there isn’t room for another.

“The usual,” Levi briefly says and hands you the exact charge. Never faltering, you smile and continue to make black tea for the man. “You still haven’t hired a helper,” he points out and you hum in agreement.

“I can manage by myself,” you inform as you stir his tea. You’ve managed years by your own, what use is there for an extra hand? Besides, it’s not like your shop gets hoarded by huge amounts of people. Coffee shops attract a moderate number, and you’re fine with that.

You slide the finished drink to Levi and he accepts, heading to his own little corner. Ever since he first came, you labeled the corner seat as his own, and you never thought of removing it again. He doesn’t seem like a very social person, like he’s a man of few words if talking is unnecessary. You always wonder how it must feel to have a conversation with such a persona; must be novel and inspiriting. Problem is, you don’t have the guts to initiate it. You don’t want to be overlooked as a fangirl of the sort. If possible, you want to converse casually.

It’s the looming distance between a coffee shop owner and a country’s renowned soldier that obstructs you from feeling on level as him.

Still, you don’t know why you’re currently grabbing a book from one of your drawers and why you’re currently making your way toward him, tray still in hand to clean afterwards as an excuse.

“Fancy a book?” you offer as you set one of your favorite titles on his table. He darts his eye on it and studies the cover for a brief moment, seeing if it’s up to his standards. It doesn’t really pique his interest, but you made an effort, and it’d be of great companion with the tea.

Levi accepts the book in his hands and starts reading, later learning about the main character’s introduction. “You have a lot of books,” he comments out of observation. This isn’t the first time you offered him one, nor is it just the second. He’s come to a conclusion that you have a liking for it.

You hum in agreement. “I like collecting them, but they’re still not enough to fill a shelf, though. I’m thinking about putting one here,” you say, already envisioning where to place it.

He almost immediately thought of the Headquarters’ library. A lot of books there just get covered in dust, unmoved. Cadets these days don’t take reading as hobby. He considers the idea of bringing some for your shop to make use of it. “I can hand you some,” he says, flipping the page.

Your eyes widen in an equal mix of delight and surprise. He’d go that far? For what? Is the Captain really like this? “Really? From where?” you try to hide the excitement in your voice, but it doesn’t escape his ears. Well isn’t that great? An upgrade for your shop and a chance to see him again. Not that he’s not showing himself enough.

“Scouts’ library,” he says, flipping another page, and you’re deep in thought. Is that allowed? Do I have to pay?

Just a couple of pages in, he seems partially engrossed. The protagonist is a traveller who encounters metaphorical life obstacles and is most likely to find self-discovery through it, that’s as much as he knows.

He notices you still haven’t left and bats you an eye. You look troubled and euphoric at the same time, he couldn’t understand entirely what you’re thinking but he has a clue. “It’s free. Some of it are old anyway,” he informs, which seems to bring your face relief. So his hunch turns out to be right, you were thinking of the burden.

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking that!” you deny right away, waving your hand dismissively, cheeks blushing. You definitely were.

He stays quiet, and you feel ashamed. Does he think you’re a cheapskate? Or thick-faced? Hey, he’s also reading, you must be a distraction. Oh god, how can you make acquaintances with him now?

You aim to leave and give him his space, afraid that you might be bugging him for too long now, but Levi suddenly speaks just in time.

“You have an allurement for things about the outside,” he asserts in heed. When you don’t answer, he continues, “It’s not all rainbows out there, you know.” His perception of you still stands as he’s continuously reminded by you of people who go through great measures to reach their dreams, and those he lost due to wanting to seek for more.

You don’t know if it’s a positive connotation or a negative but he doesn’t sound so enthusiastic. Your grip on the tray tightens. The way he puts it… is he trying to make you drop your interest?

“I do know that. I just,” you pause, contemplating what to say. You’re stuck with I just want to dream, is it so bad? or I just want to experience the forbidden, I’m sick of being stuck in this birdcage, or an impulsive one: I just want to see, would you bring me outside?

Instead, you settle with “I wouldn’t know, I’m a mere shop owner. I don’t have the chance to sit and talk with someone who’s gone beyond the walls.” Like you, sir.

He studies you as you look back at him with firm eyes. Brat, you already live a life with fair peace. The resolve in your eyes didn’t waver, not one bit. He thinks, will you be content with knowing about the outside? Levi heaves out a sigh and closes the book before leisurely taking a sip on his tea.

“Maybe if you’d put another chair, we’ve been talking for months now,” he then says, an even amount of sarcasm in his tone, enough to not come off as rude.

Dumbfounded, you gawk at the Captain for a good five seconds, eyes slightly enlarged in surprise before laughing your head off, turning a couple heads your way for a fleeting second.

“What’s funny?” he quizzes, thin brows furrowed together, and you wave him off, wiping your euphoric tears away.

“Well, I didn’t know it’d be that simple, Captain!” you giggle, eyes genuinely happy and hearty. Just put a chair in? In all seriousness, he doesn’t exactly look approachable with those half lidded dark eyes and a permanent scowl now, does he? That’s one of the primary reasons you have trouble making advances to him.

Levi looks at you, taking in the undeniably beautiful sight before clicking his tongue and averting his gaze.

He’s absolutely certain he paid no attention to the way you tucked your hair behind your ear in a timid manner, the way your silky locks sway gracefully by the wind’s cool breeze, the way your delicate fingers held to the tray tightly as you try to compose yourself, and the way your glowing eyes looked back at him with a gentle gaze once you’ve finally calmed down. Yes, he likes to think he paid no extra mind to those details.

“Tch, did you think I’d bite you or something?” he deadpans, taking another sip on his cup.

“No, absolutely not!” You absolutely did. “I’ll put another chair some other day,” you say and wave him goodbye upon seeing a customer enter, returning to your working place.

He shakes his head lightly and finishes his cup, bringing the book with him as he takes his exit. The smile in your face never disappeared throughout the day, chest booming in an unrelenting speed.

Sunday comes, and you decide to do a general cleaning. You also buy a small shelf from the nearest furniture shop and have it delivered, filling it with some of your books. You squeeze in a chair to the corner by adjusting the other tables’ distances, and you can only laugh at yourself for not thinking of this long ago. You think, why not just sit on a table of two? but figure maybe the Captain’s already grown fond to the spot.

You feel like a schoolgirl as you mindlessly prepare things to talk about and questions to ask. How much does he know? Are titans really that big? Is the ocean real? What brought him to your shop?

But after that, you never saw him again. You think maybe he’ll arrive later or the next day, but more weeks pass, and not even his shadow appeared.

The slowest weeks achingly turn to months. You’ve been awfully attentive to the morning papers since then, looking for the slightest news about him, or their operations. You think it’s completely understandable, being perfectly aware that the Captain is a busy man. You know that visiting little tea shops isn’t actually a luxury that a guy like him affords, but it tugs at your heart a teeny bit, a small part of you involuntarily longing for him. Eitherway, you just wish for his and his people’s safety.

About five months have passed since you last saw him. Levi, on the other hand, has gotten busy those said times. Expeditionary Operations came after another, and he’s buried with work once they arrive back. His squad got promoted to Special Operations Squad, and intensive training was mandatory. The amount of free time he had back then was generous, and in those five months, he had no time to slack off.

But he never forgot you, every single time he drinks tea, he starts doubting his own blend as compared to yours.

“That’s the last of it,” Levi says as he hands over piles and piles of paperwork to the Commander. Erwin only grunts his response.

The ravenhead contemplates for a few moments before finally speaking, “I’ll be out. I’ll return before dinner,” he informs and turns his back, words more of a statement than asking for permission. The higher ranking officer only stares at him as his figure leaves the room. Fair enough, he’s done with his current tasks as a Captain and it’s his first day off in a while. He leaves him be.

Levi dismisses his tan jacket and fixes his cravat as he heads to the shop he favors. He ends up forgetting the books he’s supposed to give but pushes it aside. Oh well, just another excuse for him to visit.

Minutes of walking on foot, steps a little quicker than normal, and he finally arrives, the ambience hugging at his aura. It’s been long since he last set his foot here. He pushes at the saloon door, a ton of improvisations greeting his sight. The interior is now painted a beige color, the warmth going along with the wooden accents. You’ve added the shelf you said you wanted to put, a fair number of books in it. Lastly, his preferred corner seat already has two chairs opposite to each other.

Your back is turned against the door again, leaning on the counter as you occupied yourself with a book. He notices that your hair has gotten longer in a span of months. He shortly wonders what else has changed.

“Oi, the usual,” a familiar voice says, stoic tone resonating in your ears and you immediately feel your soul light up, like it’s been ages since you last felt so giddy. A chaotic mix of worry, excitement, longing, and bliss surges all throughout your body.

When you face the stale eyed man, your tingling heart shamelessly speeds up, a smile rising on your lips.

—

You wave him farewell as he leaves, and as he cuts eye contact, heat shoots up into your cheeks like crazy, which he totally misses out on.

One step out and Levi feels the presence of a stalker just around the alley. He gives her a bored look and starts walking away, which she then reveals herself and follows suit.

“So this is you and your secret lover’s getaway, huh?” Hange teases, obviously aiming to pry for more. Now what, she’s spying on him? This insane woman.

“Don’t be ridiculous, she has good tea,” Levi answers in nonchalance, staring right ahead the road. The woman makes silly noises at his response, similar to those sounds only she can produce when learning new discoveries about titans.

“Precisely,” the redhead says in satisfaction, nodding her head with her hands stroking her chin as if she got the answer she’s waiting for.

He shoves her actions aside, couldn’t care less about whatever conclusion she came up with. But no matter how much he keeps convincing his subconscious, it’s the tea that draw me in, he just can’t bring himself to believe in it.

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