#i have to put aside plans if i want to eat this month cause everything is so fucking expensive

[the-kipsabian]

life is like

extremely vague gestures

[erikftglitter]

Christmas in Winona Springs 🤍🎄

Terry Richmond AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

Terry’s car had been giving him trouble for miles. He was headed north to visit his great aunt. He was also fond of the thought of a change of scenery, but the flat tire had put an abrupt halt to his plans. The only thing that he could see through the hovering clouds were a few cabins nestled among the trees.

Terry figured that this would be the only way to fix his problem in the current climate. He would check the cabin out, take a look, and find someone to help.

To Terry’s surprise, as he got closer to the cabins, he discovered that it was an actual resort. It was home to many different cabins and lodges, as well as camping grounds, tents, and a connecting lake. In the midst of the inconvenience, Terry still took time to appreciate the beautiful scenery.

He was greeted upon arrival within seconds.

The gentleman was older, his face lined with years, but he was as welcoming as could be. He was dressed comfortably and typical for someone who ran a cabin business. He sported a red and black flannel shirt and khaki work pants. He greeted Terry with a warm smile and ushered him out of harsh winds of the evening.

After accepting the man’s hospitality and enjoying coffee, Terry eventually explained his circumstance. He figured that the man would know someone with car services. Terry would happily fix the tire himself but he couldn’t get the tire off without the proper equipment.

“It’s late. Thankfully your car knew where to cause trouble.” The man chuckled. “Why don’t you settle in for the night and we can revisit this in the morning?” He offered.

“Are you sure?” Terry felt hesitant. It was never his intention to expect a hand out. He had took care of himself since a child and wasn’t fond of being a freeloader.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble. I can just call a tow truck or—”

“Nonsense. You’re in a pickle. It happens to the best of us.” The man smiled. His morals refused to allow anyone to struggle in his presence. “Stay the night. Get you some food, and tomorrow, we’ll fix that tire. No worries.”

Terry wasn’t sure what to make of it, but something in the older man’s voice—the calm certainty—made him set aside any skepticism. He didn’t have many other options and at least he’d be warm and safe.

“Thank you,” Terry finally said. He let his eyes roam the longue. It was supplied with wooden tables, warm, brown furniture with blankets topped over them, and the faint smell of apples and cinnamon felt surprisingly homey.

“My name’s Lee, by the way,” the man said as he led Terry to a clean room. “If you’re up for it, I’ll make you a drink.”

After the many hours of driving, and the ultimate disappointment of not arriving at his destination, Terry allowed Lee to make him a drink.

They sat at the small resort bar for hours. Terry found Lee to be an entertaining man. They sat and talked about everything and nothing. Lee told stories about the craziest experiences that he’s had over the years. A runaway bride being the most memorable. He got a great laugh out of eating on the wedding cake for weeks.

Terry shared a little about himself as well, but he didn’t think of himself as really interesting. He talked about his great aunt, who he was going to visit, his brief time in the service, and that is all that Terry Richmond summed himself up to be. Lee listened to everything though, patiently, never pushing, never judging.

He hadn’t expected to find comfort in the middle of nowhere, but here he was—sitting across from a stranger who felt more like an old friend. Lee was a wise man.

That night, Terry sat awake in the small guest room Lee had given him, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the place. Tomorrow, he’d help out around the resort to show his appreciation. For the first time in a long while, Terry felt needed.

[Two Months Later]

Terry never had the chance to see his great aunt before she succumbed to her illness. Stage 4 pancreatic cancer wasn’t an easy battle, and he’s just relieved that she was no longer suffering.

When Lee heard of the news he insisted that Terry stay the week. Being the honest man that he was, Terry wouldn’t allow Lee to house him without helping out. Business was going to become busy again as skiing became more common during the cooler months and Terry was determined to make it easier for Lee. He couldn’t stand the thought of Lee being left to repair cabins in the unforgiving weather condition and snow.

He helped him locate leaks and level the floor inside of the noisier cabins. Lee’s resort in Winona Springs was well-loved. Terry would stop to admire the photos that Lee had around the longue of families who came and went. Some even went as far as sending Lee annual holiday cards. Deep down, Terry wondered how it felt to be so loved.

But just as quickly as the thought came it left Terry’s mind. This is how he operated. He was unpredictable and flexible. He hadn’t seen home in months. How could he be loved if he disappeared from time and time again? This was his thing. He knew that he was a lone wolf and spent his adult years not trying to fight it.

Terry often filled in the work orders for Lee. He took quite a fall a few weeks before and Terry found himself being more upset than the older man.

“Terry. I’m old. This is the unrelenting truth of age, bud.” Lee laughed, reaching his hand out for Terry who eagerly helped him off the freshly waxed surface.

“Yeah I get that Lee, but don’t you have a nephew or something to help you out.” Terry’s heartbeat quickened at the realization that Lee was in fact an old man. Their unlikely alliance seemingly provided youth to Lee in Terry’s eyes. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he was definitely old enough to be his father. Definitely too old to run a rigorous business like a cabin resort alone, where snow and ice were detrimental for someone of Lee’s age.

“A nephew? I wish.” Lee sighed. “My brothers died much too soon. They didn’t have time to have any children.” Terry listened. Lee rarely spoke of his own family.

“It’s just me and my little girl.” Lee smiled and reached into his pocket. Terry watched as Lee rummaged through the thick leather wallet before retrieving his point of interest. He offered Terry a photo of a little girl who was missing two front teeth.

“I’m assuming she’s no longer a little girl.” Terry asked, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

“I’m afraid not. Baby girl’s big time in New York.” Lee sighed. “She visits every Christmas. I just miss the times when we did this together. Just me and her.” Lee looked down. He was starting to remember just how much he missed his family.

“Her mother died during a snowstorm.” Terry took a seat next to Lee. He hadn’t realized that he lost his wife so early on. He gave Lee is undivided attention.

“Car slid right off the road just before Christmas Eve.” Lee still didn’t look up from the floor where his eyes rested. Terry glanced back at the photo and back to Lee. The girl had his exact mocha colored skin tone. Terry wondered how much she resembled the older lad now.

���Is that why you allowed me to stay with you Lee?” Asked Terry. He knew that Lee came from a generation that was built on community, but Lee was more than polite to him. He took Terry in like he was his own.

“Yeah. I feel like she would want me to do that. I wish someone could have done it for her.” Lee admitted. Taking Terry in during a troubled time helped his conscious. He was more than happy to do it. “I had the space and the resources. So why not?” Lee smiled.

“You’re a stand up guy Terry Richmond.” Lee stated. Terry nodded at the praise. He was grateful for the opportunity to listen and learn from Lee.

“Hoping to be like you one day Mr. Parker.” They both laughed at the formality. They sat in silence for a while, silently watching the snow fall onto the ground. Terry wasn’t sure how long he’d be around but he knew that he wouldn’t be leaving his new friend alone anytime soon.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Smutmas Day 7 - In the (Saint) Nick of Time

Angel Dust x GN! Reader Summary: Y/N finally managed to get their boyfriend off for the holidays. So, what should one do with their partner during this festive time? Absolutely everything on every surface, of course. Warnings: P in A sex, oral sex(male receiving), dom/sub dynamics, sex jokes, cum, use of sex toys, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Requested by the wonderful and kind @little-bloodied-angel

For the first time in forever, Y/N had managed to wrangle three glorious days off work. No emails. No meetings. No chaos—well, aside from the controlled chaos of spending it with their whirlwind of a boyfriend, Angel Dust. After a long and very…threatening meeting with the moth demon, Y/N had convinced Val that the Christmas shoot could wait and Angel needed time off.

 It was Christmas Eve, and Y/N had been eagerly anticipating this chance to unwind and fully embrace the holiday spirit, wanting nothing more than to spend time with Angel without interruptions.  

When they first told Angel about the time off, his reaction was predictably dramatic.  

“Three whole days?” he gasped, clutching at his chest like they’d told him he won the lottery. “Babe, that’s practically a lifetime in your world!”  

“It’s my gift to you,” they replied with a smirk, leaning against the kitchen counter. “But also, I wanted to….be with you properly this time.”  

Angel’s grin turned devilish, his lashes fluttering. “Careful, sugar, you’re gonna make a spider blush.”  

Y/N and Angel had planned the day down to the tiniest details. Matching Christmas sweaters were non-negotiable—at least, according to Angel. He’d dragged them into his favorite boutique weeks ago and convinced them to get a pair of obnoxiously festive pink sweaters. Glittering snowflakes adorned the fabric, with the words 

“I COME IN PEACE” and “I’M PEACE” stitched in sparkling silver thread across the front.  

At first, Y/N protested the idea, but the sight of Angel’s beaming face when they finally put it on had melted their resistance. Glitter and pink were always their favorite anyway.

The kitchen was warm and fragrant as Y/N took charge of cooking. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and butter filled the air, and they were laser-focused on preparing a picture-perfect Christmas dinner.  

Angel, naturally, insisted on helping.  

“Helping,” as it turned out, was a mix of taste-testing everything, sprinkling glitter on cookies, and being a shameless flirt pinning their partner to the wall whenever Y/N tried to focus.  

“How ’bout I handle dessert, hot stuff?” Angel teased, sneaking up behind them and wrapping his arms loosely around their waist. “I got a few ideas—”  

“You mean eating all the frosting straight out of the bowl?” Y/N quipped, raising an eyebrow.  

Angel gasped, clutching his chest. “I would rather eat another creamy item than that, toots—”  

Despite the antics, Y/N and Angel ended up covered in flour and other…sticky substances. Hair was disheveled, cookies burnt, and clothing pooled at the ankles on the floor. Y/N’s tongue swiped over the head of his member, enjoying the salty taste that filled their mouth, contrasting to the sugar they had placed on it earlier. Taking him all suddenly, causing the spider demon to choke out such a delicate whine that would make even the best in the industry not question its authenticity, Christmas Eve was sure good at giving.

After dinner came the presents.  

Y/N had gone all out, gifting Angel a series of thoughtful items: a scrapbook filled with their favorite memories, a custom scarf in his signature shade of pink, and a pair of sparkling heels he’d been eyeing for months but never bought for himself. Along with some other gifts…a new quiet large strap to try out and some fuzzy handcuffs for the season.

Angel gasped theatrically at each gift, immediately trying on the heels and strutting around the living room like it was a runway while having the handcuffs on for dramatic effect. “Toots, I look too good. It’s a crime!”  

Then it was Y/N’s turn. Angel handed them a glittery bag stuffed with tissue paper and grinned as they dug in. Inside was a mix of sweet and scandalous: a framed photo of the two of them with “My Favorite View” scrawled on the back in Angel’s messy handwriting, followed by a set of pink faux-fur handcuffs and a silk blindfold.  

Y/N blinked, holding up the cuffs with a deadpan expression.  

“Guess we both really went for a theme this year, huh?”  

“‘Tis the season to be spicy,” Angel quipped, winking.  

“Oh don’t tease me now, Star.”

Quick fingers traced up Angel’s waist, pretending to softly caress, before pulling the waistband of his shorts down.  Angel let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced by a soft sigh when Y/N came to stand behind him. 

“No underwear, Star? You must have really planned this out.”

“Oh come on toots, you know how much I love ya—“

Flipping Angel over on his stomach, Y/N had Angel suck on their finger before adding it to his welcoming hole. Prepping him for what was to come. Angel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body subconsciously shifted toward the welcomed stimulation. Soon, Y/N removed their hand and placed the strap they had bought on, adjusting it accordingly before lining it up. 

“You ready, Angel?”

“Fuck am I ever—“

Slowly sliding the cock in, Y/N stretched Angel, both men moaning at the sensation and sight. Thrusting, taking their time to draw out every beautiful and sincere noise, Y/N relished in the sight below them. A beautiful demon, all theirs, to cherish and pleasure. The best holiday gift. Angel, slightly displeased at the gentle pace, bucked his hips backward in an attempt to garner more attention. Smirking, Y/N picked up the pace, driving deeper. 

“Careful, Star. Or you’ll get what you wish for.”

Mind clouded by desire, Angel could barely think straight, attention centered on Y/N and what they were doing to him. Hitting all the right places, causing his head to throw back in pleasure. It’s all too much and soon he’s cumming without warning, a pornographic moan passing his lips unrestrained. 

Coming down from his high, his eyes crack open to turn back and see Y/N smirking, pulling out slowly and relishing in the shiver that runs down Angel’s spine. 

——EXTRA CUT SCENE————————————————

By the end of the night, they were snuggled up on the couch, the remains of…dessert forgotten as they shared lazy kisses under a fuzzy blanket. That’s when Angel suddenly sat up, his eyes sparkling with excitement.  

“Hold up, babes—I got one more thing for ya!”  

Before Y/N could ask, he darted into the other room and returned with something hidden behind his back. With a dramatic flourish, he revealed a gleaming menorah and a box of candles, along with a plate of sufganiyot dusted with powdered sugar.  

Y/N’s breath caught, their chest tightening with emotion.  

“Angel…”  

“So, I did some Googling,” he began, twirling a lock of his hair nervously. “Turns out, Chanukah starts tomorrow, and I didn’t wanna miss out on celebrating it with ya, y’know? Since you’re, like, officially Jewish and all now.”  

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes as they took the menorah from him, their fingers brushing against his.  

“Angel, this is… this is so thoughtful. Thank you.”  

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all mushy on me,” he muttered, though the pink on his cheeks betrayed him. “But, uh, I got no clue how to do the whole candle thing, so you’re gonna have to show me.”  

Together, they lit the first candle, the soft glow reflecting in Angel’s shimmering eyes as he held their hand. A perfect holiday indeed.   

[according2thelore]

Oh I'm SO curious about all the wips you've mentioned but I'm especially interested in 🐺

I've been so curious about it ever since you brought it up and I'm DESPERATE for any of the alpha/omega verse, especially the collar idea UGH

I'd also really be interested in hearing about 🌀 cause I loooove unhinged sam in mystery spot(also I'm a gore fan sooo)

And of course I'm a whore for the es/ls verse so👴

Your brain is just so large I want to know EVERYTHING

hello!!!

EEE i'm so glad you liked the idea!!! <3 because it's you, i've just made these straight-up excerpts, lol! i hope that's okay!

here they are! i'm putting a cut for cannibalism mention (no actual cannibalism but you cannot be too careful!) for the 🌀 one!

🐺: Dean used to have a collar. Sam knows he did. Sam realizes, then, that Dean probably can’t use it anymore because it was a juvenile collar. It’s probably too small, now, and that makes Sam sick to his stomach.

It was green. Sam knows because he picked it out for him. He was eight, and he, Dad, and Dean had gone into an actual mall to find a clothing store that sold them. They were driving back and forth across Texas taking out cases here and there, and the motel receptionist outside of San Antonio had taken one look at Dean and gave Dad a warning glare.

He can’t be here like that. People might get the wrong idea.

🌀: (context, sam shoves his thumb into dean's bullet hole after dean accidentally shoots himself in the head, insane context i know)

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean says, like Sam hadn’t just been knuckle-deep in his frontal lobe (the lobe in charge of planning, foresight, sequential thought, expressive language, Sam remembers). Sam wants to go back and press harder into Dean’s frontal lobe, see if he can completely erase the memory that Dean even has a brother.

Sam hadn’t been tracking Dean’s facial expression and realizes that he’s completely sobered, eyebrows pressed together in thinly veiled concern.

“Hey, you’re okay.” Dean says, something that he used to say after Sam had nightmares, three months ago. Sam can only imagine what he looks like. Shattered, probably.

“I want to eat your hypothalamus” Sam says. Dean blinks at him. His brow furrows farther.

“My what?” Dean asks, not sounding as disturbed as he probably should be.

“It’s the part of your brain that loves me.” Sam says, "I want it gone." He rolls over in bed, and goes back to sleep. 

Sam wakes up.

👴: A thought picks at his brain. Wait. Before Cold Oak. 2006. Sam turns to look at Dean, who’s still sitting at the table. His eyes are watching Sam intensely, and Sam wonders what he must look like to this Dean. Does he look like some funhouse mirror, twisting something well-worn and comfortable into something hulking, monstrous? Sam knows that he’s not the same shape he was when he was twenty-three. He almost wants to reach up and push his hair back. He had his bangs in 2006, right? He remembers Dean ragging on him a bunch for it. It’s almost to his shoulders now, but Dean hasn’t said anything. Sam wonders what that means. Dean—his Dean—loves to tuck it behind his ears, loves to brush it aside so he can kiss Sam’s neck, loves to have a hand in it when they kiss. And he still loves to make fun of him for it. The thought is jarring enough to get Sam’s brain back with the program. He clears his throat.

thank you for this ask! <3 i hope you enjoyed!!

-lizzy

(from this ask game here!)

[boonsmoon]

To Grow Old With You

Request: Can I make another request? Well, I had in mind a scenario where Crimson and the reader have a son and what kind of father Crimson would be, I imagine that at first it is very difficult for him because of his personality of the but in reality his baby is very calm and sweet, which makes him happy since his baby looks more like the reader despite being the spitting image of him, although from time to time he brings out some of Crimson's personality. @ladymoon210

Kind of confused on the wording But this will be a father Crimson/raising a son with Crimson oneshot Decided to add this onto the Traitors Love saga lol

Request Chungus ML Ragna Crimson ML Series ML father!Crimson x mother!reader Genres: Oneshot|Fluff|Romantic

It was hard on both of you at first, really. As far as Crimson and you were concerned, dragons couldn't procreate. At least not from scratch like humans.

So for several months, and to his dismay, Crimson had to put aside any plans regarding dragons. This was completely new, something he's never heard of, and Crimson needed to get everything figured out before it was too late.

Too late eventually did come, and you had a son. When he came out looking human, Crimson came to the conclusion that due to being superior dragons, your past as humans must've caused this. Your son looked more like yourself, which Crimson happy about.

As the more open and caring one, you naturally were able to understand your sons needs. Crimson; however, lacked this skill, and as the mother you do so much of the work already, so a part of him did feel guilty when unable to tell if the kid wanted to sleep or eat.

The first couple months were the worst, full of sleepless nights and no progress in bonding. Things got better around a year later, though.

Your son calmed down and became much easier for Crimson to handle in some aspects. Such as noticing gestures for certain wants, grabby hands mean to hold or food. Rubbing the eyes meant tired or upset.

What didn't change was the lack of sleep, and how Crimson desperately wanted to let you rest for at least one night. One night, his genius mind came up with a great plan.

You went to get out of bed and quiet the baby before Crimson grabbed your wrist, "let me handle it this time."

You were almost shocked awake, "are you sure? I'm used to it so you can rest-"

"You can trust me on this," and Crimson went to get your son.

What he did wasn't try to rock the kid or sing, but rather make some plans with him, "it's been too long since I've been thorough with our attacks."

It turned out the idea was a win-win. Crimson got some future planning done, and the whole thing was SO boring your son fell asleep instantly.

"Crimson... Did you have him watch you all night?" You questioned, seeing the baby sleeping like never before.

"Haha, as if! He fell asleep before I finished Act 1 of the plan for next week," Crimson smirked, proud of what he did.

You looked shocked and then laughed, "you bored him to sleep then! How could you torture our baby boy like that?"

Crimson turned away from what he was working on to face you, "it is only torture for idiots like you who don't understand the process."

In the middle of your bickering your son woke up, you don't know when, but it seems he heard your conversation. And it looked like he wanted to be apart of it.

"Now look, your foolishness woke him up," Crimson said, turning back.

"That's fine, I'm sure he needs the stimulation after what you put him through," you spoke back. You went to pick him up but got denied.

Crimson say this and laughed, "it seems even he knows it is wiser to be here with me!" Crimson picked up your son and showed him the plans.

"And he's been such a nice boy, you tainted him, I know it!" You faked cried. After the silly bantering you left the two alone so they can bond.

Crimson turned the boy around to look at him, "yes, you are quite sweet; however, it seems you were doomed to a life of intelligence with me."

should i turn Traitors Love into its own little series?

obv not a full fic, but short scenarios here, and silly headcanons there

[wjforever]

Destroy me again. Chapter 3: Warner's mental notes. Day 11

I'm walking down a dark, narrow corridor, listening to my own footsteps echo off the walls, filling the space around me.

I have already managed to put aside the feeling of disappointment and indignation caused by my father's sudden intervention. He wants to talk to me. He wanted to do it right then, at the very moment when I was going to escort her to her room.

I would be able to cancel any important and urgent matter. But I can't refuse my father. It's not about my unquestioning obedience to him. It's just his game with me, and if I now demonstrate that I'm not prioritizing the way he needs, he can take action and I can lose Juliette altogether. He shouldn't have such power over me, he shouldn't feel that he has another lever of pressure on me. Blackmail is what he eats for breakfast. So I had to leave her with Kent.

That's fine. I'll see her at dinner. It's not such a long wait. It's not two weeks and two days. Not eight months. She needs to rest anyway. The main thing is that the first step has already been taken and a start has been made.

I could feel her. Touch her. Get inside her. For the first time. This is a special and very important event for me. This is the most intimate act of all that can happen. People mistakenly believe that the most intimate thing is physical interaction, but this is not like this. The most amazing and private thing is to share with a person feelings and thoughts.

I managed to invade her emotions and feelings. This is a nonconsensual invasion, which no one gave me the right to. But I don't know how to be different. I've always been such a shameless conqueror. With everyone. And feel her... it's hard to control yourself when your dream comes true. When you touch the relic you've been dreaming about for months. But now she's here with me…

I would like our first meeting to be different. I would have taken her to me, calmed her down, assured her that she was in no danger, would have told her everything. This is something that really could have given a better result, even if she didn't believe me at the beginning. But it's a luxury I can't afford. She shouldn't know too much for her own benefit. Nevertheless, I tried to do everything as finely and effectively as possible. I chose the cleanest room, made sure that the lighting intensity could be regulated, I guessed that she might have vision problems. I made sure that she was surrounded only by the most pleasant and reliable soldiers of my personal guard.

I was so excited that I could barely contain myself. There are no surveillance cameras in that hall, as a rule this place is not used for important purposes. Nobody cares about it, we are not at the headquarters and control is somewhat weaker here. So even though we were not alone, I allowed myself a little intemperance. But I know that those people who surrounded us will not pass the information on to my father. It's not about loyalty to me. They just hate him even more than they hate me. That's why although I had to play my part, I could afford a little more than usual. God knows - it's not easy to contain an erupting volcano inside, when lava flows burn through any obstacles in their path.

And I must admit that she exceeded all my expectations. 

Juliette Ferrars. 

A deep sigh allows my mind to clear itself of unnecessary emotions now. I'm mentally preparing myself for communication with my father. Now I need to remember everything that happened once again and analyze our meeting without succumbing to excessive emotions. To note the most important things that I learned from my first contact with her, the first personal interaction.

• she's not as mentally exhausted as I thought. There is a fire and a thirst for struggle boiling in her. This tears out several dozen pages from my prepared plan. 

Although the situation she found herself in put her in a humiliating position, I didn't feel sorry for her. I think this feeling would be much more humiliating for her. She was holding up pretty well, she didn't seem like a person who had been in a cell for eight months. Even after all this time spent in the cruel conditions, she managed to retain in herself a spark of rebelliousness, a desire to fight, self-will. It's so intriguing, and I want to get to know her better.

When I watched her from the side, I saw that she could take the initiative, but I didn't think that so many feelings and emotions seethe in her. She's so passionate, emotional and impetuous that I feel our similarity more keenly. Perhaps this will help me to better understand which steps should and which shouldn't be taken in interaction with her.

• Kent. He's harmless, actually. He doesn't feel anything for her. Even when they are around each other, Kent is only slightly interested. Not in her, in her well-being. This is his desire for justice and strict adherence to the rules. For him, the innocent shouldn't be punished, and the guilty should be destroyed. And now it's obvious to me why he was so concerned about her abusers being punished. She was hurt for nothing. But he's not at all bothered by my reaction when I pretend that her concern for him annoys me. He's not moved by my phrases about her devotion. Nothing from him, just absolute dedication to his duty.

But Juliette. It's hard not to notice how much his betrayal hurt her, and I don't like it. She's offended and disappointed. But although she doubts him, she's not terrified, on the contrary, his presence calms her. In fact, I could use this, especially in the early stages. Besides, right now, he's the only one I can trust her with. Of all those present, he's the most comfortable person for her. So with him around, I can be calm for her. 

• her attitude towards me… It's too early to talk about this. Of course, I felt her fear, her contempt and complete distrust. I felt it all. It doesn't bother me though. It's natural. I was expected this. No. In fact, I expected even worse. Much worse. But even though she tried to bite, she kept her sanity, and I'm sure that in time we will be able to get along.

This is something I can work with, it can be adjusted, corrected. I'll give her everything she might need and wait for her barriers to start falling. We just need a little time to get to know each other, to understand each other. She's an amazing creature. And I'm sure I can help her. A little of the most ordinary primitive domestic comfort can give anyone a little more peace of mind. Not a trust. It's not even a question of that at this moment. Now she just needs to wash, warm up, sleep and eat. And I cringe again at the mere thought that she was deprived of all this. The simplest, most basic needs.

• she expects physical pain. It doesn't make her feel shocked or unfair. She's almost waiting for it. Fear transformed into indifference, guilt made her submissive. This is a dangerous, borderline state. When a person ceases to fear for his own life, when his instinct for self-preservation becomes so weak, the risk of irreparable mistakes increases. I have to make sure she doesn't have suicidal thoughts.

I also have to make sure she's know that she will be safe here. She shouldn't be afraid. 

• she's very proud. Despite her guilt and self-loathing. She likes equality. She almost feels the need for it. She doesn't treat me like she treats Kent. Although I represent power, she's much more audacious with me than with him. Authority doesn't frighten her, but only causes contempt. It will be difficult for me to keep the balance at the beginning. She shouldn't be forced, she needs to be persuaded, she needs to be talked to, but in the beginning I will have to force her to obey me. It's in her best interest. But I'll need to gradually move to a different communication model. This will be a difficult task.

• she likes being stroked. When she's touched, soothe with patting. This goes beyond her profile. A person with such a psychological trauma shouldn't perceive unauthorized touching of her in this way. But my touch calmed her down, even though it seemed humiliating to her.

During our short meeting, I managed to touch her three times. None of these touches evoked real fear or horror. The first was the most desirable. The subsequent ones caused much more confusion, mixed with indignation and a bit of disgust. But she also felt surprised. And also – desire. She wanted to be touched so freely.

Assumption: if the touch doesn't make her feel threatened, it makes her feel like she's normal, not dangerous or disgust. I need to pay more attention to this issue, and if I'm not mistaken, I'll need to use this technique. If it's good for her.

Nota bene. This touch of mine wasn't planned. I succumbed to the impulse when they hit her without my orders. They acted within the usual framework, my miscalculation. I should have taken care of it beforehand. I didn't do it just because I thought it wouldn't be necessary, but her weakness and curiosity were perceived by them as a threat and disobedience. Her reaction made me want to console her, even if I did this in the only way I could, being in front of my soldiers. Although this has given me new useful information, I need to think more carefully about my actions.

• she was impressed by my appearance. In a positive way. This is good news. If the person's appearance seems likable to you, it's much easier to establish contact. And she really liked what she saw. The bad news is, it caused a wave of self-contempt in her. Our contrast turned out to be too striking. However, I was ready for this, so I don't need to make adjustments to the plan. She will have access to water, clothes, cosmetics, medical care and everything else that a girl needs in order not to feel herself like a piece of dirt on the floor. But I need to pay more attention to her attitude towards herself. I need to tell her the truth about herself more: praise her, emphasize her beauty, compliment her. It's important to her. And she shouldn't feel unequal to me. She must understand that she's no worse and even better than me.

Nota bene. It's strange and inexplicable, but her reaction caused me too much excitement. People often find me attractive, this is not news to me. Maybe I should even have been disappointed that she suddenly paid attention to something as insignificant as the appearance of a person she considers an enemy. This is a dangerous perception of the opponent. Unacceptable. And this should be regarded as her miscalculation, requiring further correction and additional trainings. But instead, I was... flattered. I shouldn't let my ego cloud my mind. I need to pay attention to my own further behavior towards her.

• her hatred for me grows out of her self-hatred, since between a feeling of sympathy for my appearance and a sharp antipathy was her self-loathing. Perhaps, if I carry out everything planned earlier, I will be able to achieve her disposed towards me quite quickly.

• she often withdraws into herself, even in such serious circumstances. I don't need to interfere into this. If she's more comfortable this way, it's not a big deal. I shouldn't pull her out of her thoughts at such moments, but carefully penetrate inside her mind, helping her cope with the situation.

I stop in front of a heavy door, entering a familiar room. My meeting with my father only partially distracts me from my thoughts. We only talk about current affairs with him. About important issues and tasks. He only asks me about her at the end. If I received my delivery. And I briefly answer that I haven't had time to deal with it properly yet. I see his wide smirk, a chill runs down my spine, and I get disconnected before his gaze starts burning through me.

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[band--psycho]

Young!Remus Lupin x Reader- You're Here

It's been a while since I've written a Young!Remus Lupin story!

Thank you so much @xacatalepsyx for helping me with this story for my Christmas Writing Challenge!

Warning: Grief

Prompt - I wasn't going to let you spend Christmas alone

This isn't exactly the happiest of stories; but I think it's always to import that Christmas can be a difficult time for people too!

Y/n was staring numbly at her surroundings, taking in the bright twinkling lights, the cheery ornaments and the cheesy Christmas music playing in the background.

She’d spent most of the day putting up all of the decorations.Christmas was her favorite time of year, it had been ever since she was little. So decorating her house was a habit.

But this year was different. 

Normally putting up Christmas decorations had always managed to cheer her up, always made things seem brighter, no matter how much shit had happened. 

It was almost like her own form of therapy. 

But this year; she did not feel happy, hopeful, excited or festive. 

She just felt hollow.

Like her heart had been ripped out of her body. 

Memories of Christmas’ gone by kept flashing in her mind. 

Memories that she wanted so desperately to remember and keep ahold of whilst equally wishing she could forget them.

How was that possible? To want to remember and forget a memory in equal measure? 

Remembering previous Christmas’ were painful; and the memories kept dragging her to depths she was struggling more and more to rise from.

This time last year, Y/n, Lily, and the boys, had all been preparing together. They were all decorating each other's houses, baking Christmas treats, belting out Christmas songs at the top of their lungs, shopping…

This time this year; they’d planned on having an extra member of their group; Lily and James’ baby, Harry. Y/n had even got him a baby’s Christmas ornament to place on the tree…but that decoration remained in the box it arrived in, purely because Y/n knew how much pain it would cause her to see it again. 

She was trying so hard to hold it together.

But then her eyes gazed down at the homemade Christmas silver and gold, glittery star that she was holding in her hands and that’s when the dam broke. 

The pitter patter of tears hitting the handmade ornament has her raising it out of the way, holding it up so you can get a better look at it.

Her mind wandered back to a simpler time and an easier time; when she still had her chosen family. 

Memories of James and Sirius arguing over what colour the star should be fills her mind; and as much as she wants to push it aside, to forget the memory entirely she can’t help but allow the memory to sweep her up in its embrace. 

It was years ago now, Y/n and Lily had attempted to explain some more muggle traditions behind Christmas, granted both of them were quite confused by some of the traditions but, they both immediately had taken a liking to the idea of having a star in the Gryffindor common room. 

Remus of course had been the brains behind putting the base together, and he merely sat with Y/n and Lily, eating Christmas cookies as the boys argued. Peter, bless him, had tried to be a mediator but to no one’s surprise he gave up in the end, when both boys decided that two colours would be better than one. 

Simpler and easier times.

She hiccuped a laugh at the thought. When a silly color had been their biggest concern. 

And now they were gone. Lily, James, Peter… Sirius. Even Remus.

She hugged the star to her chest and dropped down to her knees, her tears wracking through her body as the weight of her own grief overwhelmed her.

How did it come to this? In one night, she had lost everything. 

They were gone… lily and James. Peter. Sirius. Even Remus had left.

James, Lily, Peter and Sirius, they were out of her reach, gone forever. 

But Remus, despite how close the two were becoming in the months prior to everything, he had left. Left her on her own and she couldn’t figure out why. 

She didn’t blame him. 

Y/n understood better than most what he was feeling, but couldn’t help but hate that he had left her like this. 

At least if they were together they could comfort one another in moments like this.

She didn’t know where he was, or what he was doing but she had hoped he might make an appearance.

It sounds cliche but over the years at Hogwarts, her friends had become like her family…and right now, she just wanted her family back.

She wanted to hear Remus’ sassy retorts to Sirius, Lily's infectious laugh, Sirius’ and James' constant bickering as well as their surprisingly good singing voices and Peter's constant questions about Christmas. 

But things couldn’t go back to how they were, how could they? 

Falling to her side, curling into the fetal position, she holds the star close; like it’s the only thing that’s stopping her from completely falling apart. 

She doesn’t know how long she was like that; giving into the weight that had been slowly crushing her for months now. 

In the silence of her tears; Y/n heard a knock at the door; the sound of the faint knock was enough to drag her out of the painful memories racing through her mind. 

At first, she thought she was hearing things, perhaps it was her imagination playing tricks on her, it wouldn’t have been a shock she’d hadn’t slept properly for months now. 

Then she heard a knock on the door again, louder than before. 

Slowly, she sat up, quickly wiping away her tears in a fruitless attempt to clean herself up before she pushed herself to her feet, placing the star down on a cushion on the sofa beside her. 

Then she began to make her beau to the door; glancing up at the clock she saw that it was nearly ten in the evening. That was enough to have Y/n questioning who was outside her door, perhaps it was Dumblrdore or McGonagall, they’d both been to check on her previously so it wouldn’t be that off. She was fairly certain it wasn’t any type of enemy, given the fact that an enemy probably wouldn’t knock. 

Pure shock came over Y/n as she looked through the peephole of her front door to see who it was that was outside. 

“Can’t be,” she whispered to herself, a shaky breath slipping past her lips, her mind racing.

“I can hear you, you know…”

Despite being muffled with the wooden barrier of the door between you, his voice still sends a shiver down her spine. Husky, and low.

“I-“

He seems to bite his tongue as she reaches out to spin the locks, the noise putting his dialogue on hold as he waits to see her face to face. 

As she tentatively swings the door open towards her, he straightens himself up from his previously slightly slouched position. He had clearly attempted to make it easier for her to see him, knowing she’d look to see who it was.

“R-Remus?”

“Surprise…” he mumbled weakly. His voice was rough, as though he hadn’t used it lately, and you could definitely believe that. Had he been hiding away as well? She thought he wouldn’t turn up, he’d been gone for nearly two months, so why did he decide to make an appearance now?

Tilting her head at the thought, she took a step back in order to get a better look at him, the words falling from her mouth before she could process them, her mind trying to work out if it was really seeing Remus Lupin before that was standing before her. 

“What are you doing here? I thought…”

Seeming to pick up on your state of disbelief and confusion, he offers.

“I wasn’t going to let you spend Christmas alone.”

Once again, Y/n can feel tears building, blurring her vision as they started to fall from her eyes. 

Smile falling, Remus crosses the threshold, closing the distance between the two of them. He shuts the door over as he does so, enclosing Y/within the privacy of your hallway. 

“Y/N, I- '' before he could utter another syllable she threw herself  into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist as she held him tightly, fearing that if she loosened her grip even for a second, he’d disappear again.

Remus himself didn’t waste a second before returning the affection, leaning down to hold her close, both of them seeking comfort in one another after months apart. 

He buried his head in the dip between her shoulder and her neck, the shaky breath that escapes him warms her neck, but what really gets her attention is the feeling of liquid sliding down your collarbone.

Not a second passes before she realised that Remus was also crying. In all the years you had known him you’d seen him cry once after a full moon, but this was different. 

He wasn’t mourning himself, like Y/n, he was grieving for what couldn’t be. 

And I’m this moment, both he and Y/n were two broken souls seeking refuge in one another. 

~~~~

“You decorated.” It wasn’t a question, she could tell he wasn’t surprised, and she knew he wouldn’t judge her for it, he’d known her for all these years, so he knew how much she adored Christmas.

“I wanted a bit of normality, I thought… I know it’s silly, but I thought it might help me.”

When she thought about it, it had helped a little bit, going through the boxes of old decorations, falling into this tradition from childhood, had helped a little bit. Things didn’t seem as dreary in the apartment that once hosted so many. 

“It isn’t silly at all, you did a wonderful job.” His soft admission drew her attention to his gaze, only to find him smiling down at her. She noticed his eyes were still red from the tears, much like hers probably did. 

He looked worn down and exhausted. But still handsome.

“Thank you. There’s just one more thing though.” Turning away from him she made her way over to the sofa, reaching out to grab the one thing she had yet to put in its place.

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

A small smile tugged at Y/n's lips, she  had piqued his curiosity, she could tell by the way the pitch of his voice increased.

She couldn’t help but notice the glitter left in its place upon the cushion, but made no effort to swipe it away, instead she turned back to Remus and held it out to him.

“You kept it?” He asked, feeling another tear slip down his cheek as he gently took  hold of the star; examining it closely. 

Y/n could tell by the look that was growing in Remus’ eyes that he was clearly reliving the same memories that she had done earlier in the night. 

“Of course I did,” she stated softly; gently wrapping a hand around his wrist, before pulling him over to the tree. 

Yes they could’ve used magic to place the star on top of the tree; but in all the years since the star had been made, one of the members of the group had always placed the star upon the tree. 

It was something James and Sirius would quite  often fight over; until either Lily or Y/n took it from them and placed it there themselves. 

Remus had rarely ever placed the star upon the tree even though he was probably the tallest out of everyone in the group. 

“Would you like to do the honors?” Y/n asked, glancing between Remus and the top of the Christmas tree.

“I’d be happy to, sweetheart, ” the words fell from his lips effortlessly, placing a soft kiss on Y/n's forehead before he reached up slightly to place the star in its pride of place.

Tagging:

@gloryekaterina @jamie-lee666 @heyitskat101 @megaprincesscakes @skyofficialxx @thatguppienamedbae @greengecko @findzelda @ciannemar83 @trishizzl @amaryllis23 @medalloway-blog @aboukie @quirky-eclectic @munsinner @darthwheezely @ashlovesthemarauders @bxnnywatts @lexondeck @the-chaotic-cow @misshale21 @msmarvelknight @invisible-ninja @meteora-fc @howlingmadlady @choochoo284 @daedreamss @mysticalmermaidlove @realandloud @alexxavicry @instabull @myaloveee @simonsbluee @elliewigginton20 @eichenhouseproperty @whoreforpsychopaths @drabby-abby @samanthaofanarchy @xxemberlights @navs-bhat @tinystudentmiracle @laneynoir @livy26600

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 23 - Haunted Heart [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Coming home can cause issues.

Series Masterlist

                          SIX MONTHS LATER

You flipped the knife in your hand as the guy tied to the chair glared at you.

“You know,” you trailed off, “I’ve had a really shitty couple of months, Johnny- can I call you Johnny?”

“No.”

“Rude,” you commented, “Fine. John. I’ve had a really shitty couple of months so you really don’t want to try me right now. Just tell me where I can find your boss.”

“You’ll never find him you stupid bitch.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Since I’m going to kill you in a couple of minutes I feel like I can share some things with you,” you said, “My best friend says I keep everything bottled and I should talk about my feelings.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“See, that’s exactly how I feel!” you pointed at him, “Thank you. I mean, I feel angry at myself. I kind of fucked up with the man I love.”

“Jesus Christ, just kill me already.”

“I’m waiting for a text to do that Johnny,” you pointed out, waving your phone at him. “So, I tricked him and used him and threw him to wolves. And then Accords 2.0 didn’t pass and he has been pardoned once again, and he’s a free man now. I have a strong feeling that he’s not the ‘forgive and forget’ type of guy. You know, assassin to assassin.”

“You’re the chattiest assassin I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you, I’m trying to improve myself,” you said, “I mean what exactly should I do? I don’t even trust my agency at this point, my handler lied to me and I have been at this fucking place for six months now, hunting you down. Well, your boss but…”

“You’ll never find him.”

“We’ll see about that my friend,” you said, “So anyway, like what am I supposed to do? I lost the one guy I actually loved. How do you cope with that? Because drinking doesn’t work, sleeping with others doesn’t work…. Nothing seems to—“ you were cut off when your phone vibrated and you touched the screen to open the text message.

From: Julian

Go for it.

“Wait, no no no, I’ll talk—“

“Kind of too late,” you pointed the gun at him, “Nice to meet you Johnny.”

With that you pulled the trigger, silencer doing its job as there was no loud bang or anything. His body fell back with the impact, and you heaved a sigh.

“Maybe I need a therapist I can’t kill,” you mumbled and walked out of the warehouse to approach the car before opening the door to the passenger seat to get in.

“Is it done?” Julian asked and you nodded, rubbing at your eyes.

“Yep.”

“Are you hungry?”

You made a face, “Just because the General sent you here does not mean we’re going to become buddies.”

“I’m not trying to become buddies with you,” Julian stated, “I just want to eat fries and there’s a two for one deal.”

You eyed him up and down.

“Fine, I could eat fries.” You leaned back in the seat as he started driving, keeping your eyes on the road. Soon enough, you reached the city center and Julian got fries from a food truck, then sat across from you.

“So,” he said, “You do realize this whole thing would’ve been over by now if we actually worked together?”

“I’m not going on the field with you.”

“The General sent me here to help you.”

You dipped the fry into sauce, then popped it into your mouth, “You can help me by pretending you’re not here.”

“Y/N.”

“You know what they say Julian. Fool me once…”

“Don’t tell me you’re still holding that grudge.”

“You mean when you left me behind to die on the last mission we were together?” you asked back, “That grudge?”

“I told you—“

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” you cut him off, “And I work better alone. Who told you we could waste the guy by the way?”

“The General.”

You grabbed the salt shaker to pour some salt on the fries, causing Julian to make a face.

“Are you kidding me? That was salty enough-“

“Why did he not text me?”

“No idea. Maybe he’s avoiding you because he promised you handler and here you are. Field spy.”

Your jaw clenched.

Or maybe he’s avoiding me because he fucking lied to me.

You had to give it to him, it was the perfect plan. The moment he had suspected you were getting too close to Bucky, he had come up with the one thing he knew that would make you switch sides.

And that-

That was below the belt yes, but that was also masterly.

But at the end of the day, you barely had two people to trust in the entire world, and you seriously doubted you could ever forgive the General for what he had done. You knew he held duty above all, above family and surely above you, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

You shook your head at yourself and grabbed another piece of fry.

“So um…” Julian shifted his weight, “Are you okay?”

You shot him a glare, arching a brow, “Peachy.”

“No I mean… About Barnes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This whole Accords 2.0 failure, there’s no way we could go after him again.”

“I don’t want to go after him again.”

“You don’t want revenge?”

That made you straighten up your back and you put the fry down, “And why exactly would I want revenge?”

That made Julian fall silent and you nibbled on your lip.

“What exactly did the General tell you before you came here?”

“That there was a job here.”

“Bullshit,” you replied way too quickly, “Did he send you here to be my babysitter? He thinks I’ll go after Barnes myself is that it? That’s why they sent you here months after I left the country but right after Accords 2.0 didn’t pass.”

Julian licked his lips.

“Listen, the agency wants to keep you safe—“ he started but then his phone beeped. He grabbed it to take aa look at the screen, then cussed under his breath.

“What?”

“Check your texts.”

You touched the screen and frowned as your eyes skimmed the text.

From: General

Time to come home.

“Well,” you muttered, your heart dropping to your stomach, “Shit.”

                                                   ***

Coming back home was harder than ever now. After catching up with Keith and Chloe, you were taken to your new apartment that was given to you by the agency as usual, and for the whole night you couldn’t sleep.

Even if there was no trace of Bucky in your new apartment –in your new life, you still couldn’t shake off this feeling. It was as if the moment you had entered the country, Bucky had entered your life in an instant.

Odds were, you wouldn’t really see him again. After all it was a big city, and Bucky wasn’t exactly the social type.

So your first week back in New York wasn’t exactly terrible. You were still waiting for your orders while getting to know to the city slowly, because after long missions it always took time for you to remember you had a real life there, real memories—

Well, as real as it could be, for a spy.

“Just see it as a vacation,” Chloe had said, “They threw you into another mission as soon as you got out of the country, it’s just a delayed vacation.”

As far as vacations went though, this one just sucked.

Maybe it was because you couldn’t keep away from places you and Bucky had been too, like this coffee place where you had first officially met.

You sipped your coffee, scrolling down on the news website as your eyes skimmed yet another article about Accords and whether you could trust superheroes or not, but you were soon distracted when someone pulled the seat across from you, making you look up from your phone.

And as soon as you did, your heart dropped.

You had to give it to the General, he was manipulative, he was a liar and he had betrayed your trust terribly but the one thing he had done right was training you well. Aside from that one second, you managed to adapt a look of nonchalance on your face, slowly putting your phone down.

“Hello Cap.”

Sam raised his brows and eyed you up and down.

“You’re back?”

You could swear he could hear your heartbeat and you shrugged your shoulders, looking around.

“Yeah,” you said, “Big apple and everything.”

“So much for the small town girl.”

“I have never been a small town girl,” you drawled, “Never been to Oregon either.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

You turned your coffee cup on the table just so you could do something with your hands.

“Why?” he asked after a beat and you shifted your weight despite your whole training of feeling calm and collected, nervousness hitting you out of nowhere.

“You’re a veteran, Wilson,” you managed to say, “You don’t need me to tell you how the chain of command works. Army doesn’t care how we feel about orders.”

“I’m very familiar with how chain of command works,” he pointed out, “But you’re not a soldier, Y/N. You’re a spy.”

“That makes it even worse,” you stated, “I know it sounds like an excuse, but… you don’t know how my agency works. I don’t get to say no to orders, and I sure as hell don’t get to blow my own cover.”

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”

Jesus Christ, Wilson was really good at this observation thing.

“Doesn’t matter what I want,” you said, “I’m no use to anyone if I develop a conscience.”

“But you did,” he insisted, “Why else would you come to help us? Why else would you warn him beforehand?”

“He told you about that?”

He shot you a look, “What do you think, Y/N?”

You scoffed a laughter. “I was feeling generous,” you said, “No other reason.”

He kept his gaze on you for a couple of seconds, as if trying to see whether you would cave before he took a deep breath.

“You know he was going to propose, right?”

That-

That was just too much. You could feel your jaw hanging as you stared at him in complete silence, his words echoing in your ears.

“No,” you said after a moment, then shook your head fervently, your nose in the air, “No you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” Sam said, “Apparently he was looking for this… house painted in white with—a red door or something.”

Don’t cry.

Do not fucking cry.

Spies don’t cry over heartbreak.

You clenched your jaw and blinked back the tears, straightening your back.

“It’s a good thing he didn’t get to, then.”

“Y/N, he loved you.”

“No Sam, he loved someone who doesn’t exist,” you replied, “Sweet small town girl with sundresses and smiles and some house in the suburbs with kids and all that shit. Girls like me don’t get that ending, I have way too much blood on my hands.”

He pressed his lips together and you cleared your throat.

“How much does he hate me?”

“Why do you think he hates you?”

“Assassins aren’t good at forgiving,” you said, “I would know, we don’t have that talent.”

“That’s not a talent, that’s a choice.”

“It really isn’t,” you muttered, “So?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Yeah no. Actions have consequences and I’d rather not cross paths with the deadliest assassin in the world after double crossing him.”

“But you want him to forgive you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Intuition,” he said and pushed his chair back to stand up.

“He didn’t kill your father, Y/N.”

You heaved a sigh.

“I know,” you said, “Trust me, I would’ve walked away so much easier if he had.”

“Enjoy your coffee,” he said and walked out of the coffee house. You threw your head back, closing your eyes.

“Yep. I shouldn’t have come back.”

                                                  ***

“I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of hate that we’re not living so close anymore,” you pressed the phone between your shoulder and your ear and opened the door to your apartment as Keith chuckled.

“I knew you’d miss me.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re a softie deep inside. Very very deep inside.”

“If you repeat that in front of anyone I swear to God…” you muttered and he groaned.

“Have I told you they’re putting me in the same team as Julian?”

“You guys have a new mission?”

“Not a long one probably.”

“Why the fuck am I—“

“Because you’re on a vacation,” he cut you off, “And also they’re probably going to make you a handler, that’s worth waiting for.”

“That or….”

“We’re not talking about that on the phone,” Keith said quickly, “Amateur.”

“Careful there, I’ll outrank you soon enough,” you said, walking to the bathroom to wash your hands. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Alright, see you later!” he said and hung up. You put your phone into your pocket, then washed your hands and made your way to the kitchen.

It was only when you put the wine bottle back into the fridge that you noticed something was off. Your body moved on its own accord, before you knew it you had already grabbed the knife in your boots and threw it to the figure in the dark corner of the room but he easily caught it, metal hitting what sounded like another kind of metal before he stepped out of the corner. Your breath caught in your throat, and for the first time in your life you froze, all the training leaving your mind.

You were supposed to be looking for a weapon, any kind of weapon but somehow, your body refused to move.

Bucky turned your knife in his hands, his gaze pinning you to your spot before he tilted his head.

“Hi honey,” he said, his voice way too cold. “I’m home.”

Chapter 24

[angry-geese]

Nanami Kento x Reader

Warnings: sfw. pregnancy mention, death mention, minor injury mention. mild angst. jjk manga spoilers/shibuya arc spoilers

Summary: some pregnancy fluff with nanami

Word Count: 2.2k

jjk masterlist

Greys dot at his temples, and the sides of his beard. There's a permanent line between his eyebrows from scowling. Nanami always kept his face shaved in the past. Nowadays he hardly bothers shaving. You like it when he has a little bit of scruff, and he's often too tired to shave. His cheeks are far more gaunt. He lost a considerable amount of weight he never really gained back. You’ve been trying to get him to eat more. And it's working, but recovery isn't a short process. It was a long road that sometimes it feels like you take one step forward, only to take ten back.

He finds himself questioning if he'd rather wear a glass eye, or an eyepatch.

Nanami hardly sees the point in either. So the answer is neither. He rarely leaves his house, save for the rare times you drag him along to the grocery store, or down the street to the bakery. Even then, he wears his hat low on his head, keeping his eyes on the ground in a feeble attempt to make himself as small as possible.

Shibuya left scars on everyone who had the misfortune of being there, ones that never quite healed right. You were the same person; torn apart and put back together wrong. Age has not been kind to you, your wounds taking longer to heal, an ever-present ache in your bones. Past injuries have never quite healed, only laying dormant, waiting for the weather to sour so they can ache. He guesses he can consider himself lucky. He's alive. That's more than a lot of people can say.

But sometimes he thinks the real lucky ones were those who didn't survive.

Sometimes he thinks he's dead. In the twilight between sleep and his waking moments, he wonders if he actually made it. He wonders if he really survived, or if this is just some last ditch attempt by his brain to make sense of things.

He doesn't understand why you stay. He finds himself wondering why he bothers. Most days he doesn't see a point in continuing. But he doesn't want to leave you alone, reaching out to the empty space where he used to be.

For a long time he struggled to find purpose to all this. He wanted a reason, or at the very least answers. But he never would get them. It's unfair to say there’s an order to the universe. There's no reason why things happen the way they happen, they just do.

In the end he came to terms with it.

He remembers the glint in your eyes. A mischievous look- you were always trying to cause trouble. It's never really left. You were younger than him. Not by much. Two years. You were adamant he recommended you to become a grade one sorcerer. For months you pestered him, hounding him for that recommendation. As a Jujutsu High first-year, you looked up to him. When you got into trouble, you found yourself asking 'what would Nanami do?' And as time went on, you still did.

After months of pestering he eventually caved. You're nothing if not persistent. It was a little alarming at the time, and equally as irritating. But when you were finally a grade one sorcerer, he was there alongside you to celebrate.

At first glance, you two were far from compatible. The two of you couldn't be any more different. He was stoic and stern, and you were a known troublemaker. Your cursed technique worked well with his, and as a result, you went on many jobs together. As time went on you grew close.

And after years of working together, he finally realized he wanted more.

To everyone around you, your feelings were obvious. The two of you were hopeless. Between your stubbornness, and Nanami’s refusal to believe Gojo, neither of you wanted to be the first to confess. It was up to Gojo to help. Neither of you asked for his help, he took it upon himself. Little did he know, Nanami had a confession planned.

Nanami never got to have a proper confession. Gojo would spoil the surprise. Nanami was pissed, but your reaction was worth it. He doesn't think he’s ever seen you that happy.

Slowly things got better. Your more visible wounds healed and scarred. You went back to work. Nanami settled into domestic life better than he thought he would.

The transition wasn't the easiest. Settling down was far from an instantaneous change. He took on work around the house. For a short time you kept a ‘normal’ job. Even when you were younger, such work never suited you. Between the money you had saved up from your years as a sorcerer, and the money you got from odd jobs, you had enough to live comfortably. There was no need to work.

Slowly he started to look forward to getting up in the morning. Having a routine helped. It gave him a sense of normalcy.

He often finds himself unable to sleep. Nanami falls asleep late in the afternoon, and sleeps until either his phone, or a nightmare rouses him.

Today it's neither. He was a light sleeper before. Now even more-so. When he’s next to you, sleep comes to him easier. His arms find the swell of your belly, wrapping around it protectively. Your presence is a reminder that you’re still around, that you're not going anywhere. His shoulder aches. He finds sleep impossible. He’s too sore to move, but too sore to sleep. Even before everything, he found it easy to sleep on his couch, and hard to sleep in bed. You’d constantly pester him that sleeping on the couch wasn't good for his back. But that wouldn't stop you from staying there until you both inevitably fell asleep, and he carried you to bed.

It took you years to convince him to have one. He wanted to settle down and have children, but he couldn't be both a sorcerer and a parent. And neither could you. Shibuya only set things back. The world had to heal first. Things had to get better. The two of you had to heal before others could rely on you.

You weren't actively trying, but if it happened, it happened.

You've long since fallen asleep in the crook of his neck. He hardly left bed all day. Things were getting bad again. Sometimes months would go by where it seemed things were improving, only for them to take a nosedive. He’s still getting better, but recovery isn't a linear process. You didn't have anywhere to go that day, so you stayed right by his side. You took it upon yourself to make him feel better. Or at least bother him until he got out of bed. Much of your morning was spent watching movies on your phone, and stealing blankets from each other.

Retirement was nice. Granted, you retired rather young, but if the rest of your life was spent with him, you’d be content. He’s still the same man you fell in love with all those years ago. Aside from the occasional, safe-ish odd job, you were done with sorcery. Those days were past you.

He’s grown tired of staying still. Sometimes moving helps the aches. He never was the earliest riser before, but now he can hardly stay in bed past seven. Everything hurts. No matter when he goes to sleep, he’s usually up by 7:30, and you can count on him making coffee in the kitchen.

It's hardly past nine. The sun has completely set over the horizon. Stiffness has set into his limbs. He takes great care to not disturb your sleeping form, tucking the blankets back around you.

You nuzzle into the warm spot where he once was, a frown burned into your face. You never liked sleeping without him. Nightmares struck you frequently. Often you'd wake up from a dead sleep in a panic, calling out for him, convinced that this was some sick dream and he died years ago. He’d often wake up to you clinging to his arm, face buried in his shirt.

But he was always there.

You find it easier to fall asleep when it's light out. You don't like falling asleep in the dark. He makes sure to keep a light on in the hall. The power bill you could care less about. Nightmares came to you in the dark. Your logic is that, if there's no dark, you won't have them. To some extent it works.

It's a bit late for dinner, but he finds himself in the kitchen anyway. He wants udon, but the shop you normally go to would be closed at this hour. Their mushroom udon is the best. He’ll try to recreate it.

He sets some water on to boil, along with some frozen gyoza to thaw that you always insist on going to this one specific market in Tokyo for. Chicken and leek, with lots of ginger. Your favorite. You go through so much of the stuff that you have to get it in bulk, and freeze the extras. He thinks you’ll want tea too, so he sets the kettle on to boil.

He doesn't hear you walk in. Between the clanking of pots, and the whistling of the kettle, your soft footsteps go unheard. Nanami’s hearing was never quite the same. But he senses eyes on his back, and turns.

“I didn't mean to wake you, love.” He says.

“You didn't. I was having a hard time staying asleep anyway,” you say, “what’re you making?”

“Mushroom udon and gyoza,” he says, “it’s gonna be kind of a late dinner, but I thought it sounded good.”

“Smells good,” you say.

One of his hands finds your much smaller ones. Your fingers lace with his. His hands are warm, and calloused from years of using his weapon.

“Remind me to get more tea when I head into town tomorrow,” you say, “oh- and rice too. We were getting low the last time I checked. Do you want to go too?”

He nods. He makes a silent note to add those, along with laundry soap to the shopping list.

Before, he hated going into town. Strangers poked and prodded, and asked about his scars. It's gotten better as time goes on. If cravings struck you in the middle of the night, he would be up and ready to bring you something. Craving the mochi only sold by a specific shop in Tokyo? It doesn't matter if he had to take the train all the way to the city, he’d do it. Your arms wrap around his waist from behind. He’s a bit too tall for you to rest your head on his shoulder from behind. You have to stand on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He smells faintly of laundry soap, and shampoo. His stubble brushes against your lips. You always liked when he grew it out.

He pulls you so you stand in front of him, your back against his chest. His hands find the swell of your belly, wrapping around you protectively. Nanami plants a kiss on the top of your head. It's one of the few moments you feel truly normal. You’re no longer sorcerers, but a couple sharing a romantic moment, one building a life together.

He’s hardly allowed any distance between you two. Nanami acts like you’re made out of glass. He’s almost afraid to touch you. God forbid you try to lift something too heavy, or help out with the housework. He’s on you in an instant, trying to get you to rest. He’s a bit overbearing when it comes to things that aren't good for the baby. No alcohol, no caffeine, no overexerting yourself. You didn't miss alcohol all that much, but you really miss coffee. At times his presence can be suffocating. He means well, even if it gets on your nerves.

When the noodles are done, he gathers two bowls- part of a set given to you as a wedding gift. You only brought them out to use when your parents would visit. Much of the time they spent gathering dust. You always talked about using them more, but never got the opportunity to. He figures now is as good a time as ever. You set the table, setting out a few candles. He’d break out a bottle of sake if you could drink, but you just settle for tea.

"Retirement looks good on you," you say.

“It looks good on you too,” he says.

Conversation carries on while you eat. The topic falls onto mundane things that make his heart flutter only when you talk about them. You make plans to go shopping in the morning. You need groceries, and there’s a new shop opening up in town that you want to check out. When you’re done eating, you help him clean up. You clear the table while he gets the dishes.

He’s finally found his place. Not in jujutsu or human society. Not among sorcerers or regular people. His place is beside you.

And each day, he finds himself falling more hopelessly in love.

[yougotthatbilly]

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v  self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc. 

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk. 

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk. 

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed. 

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug. 

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite. 

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back. 

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save. 

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece. 

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin. 

“What’s your skin type, John?” 

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it. 

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?” 

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need. 

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.” 

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached: 

Good evening, 

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it. 

Sincerely, 

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that. 

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw. 

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.  

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink. 

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny. 

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though. 

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well. 

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well. 

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning. 

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you. 

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?” 

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face. 

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking. 

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation. 

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now. 

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun. 

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once. 

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him. 

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly. 

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.” 

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?” 

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet. 

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out. 

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense. 

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off. 

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds. 

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?” 

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days. 

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off. 

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do. 

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

 You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest. 

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in. 

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out. 

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher. 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now. 

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep. 

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight. 

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.” 

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own. 

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking. 

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work. 

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with. 

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.” 

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed. 

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention. 

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge. 

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?” 

You hum. “Not quite…” 

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning. 

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?” 

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk. 

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed. 

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches. 

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.” 

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual? 

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad. 

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that. 

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours. 

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording  as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need. 

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said. 

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.” 

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm. 

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide. 

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days. 

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table. 

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar. 

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever. 

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having. 

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain. 

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat. 

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far. 

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.” 

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict. 

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance? 

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker. 

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known. 

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs. 

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles. 

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you. 

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note. 

“Hey.” 

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong. 

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence. 

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours. 

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste. 

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down. 

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly. 

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be. 

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth. 

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside. 

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex. 

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs. 

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time. 

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon. 

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine. 

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair. 

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer. 

“You were made for this, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle. 

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

 “You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip. 

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees. 

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth. 

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you. 

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass. 

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple. 

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot. 

“John…”

“Yes?” 

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining. 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates. 

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly. 

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging  inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves. 

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading. 

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own. 

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply. 

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped. 

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still. 

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down. 

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it. 

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily. 

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord. 

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own. 

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly. 

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum. 

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation. 

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you. 

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his. 

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat. 

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating. 

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you. 

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow. 

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick. 

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again. 

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you. 

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently. 

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms. 

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing. 

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste. 

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down. 

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

[getlostsquidward]

The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)

Lou Miller x fem!reader

A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!

Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?

Part one

“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”

“Nice place.”

“Try heating it.”

“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”

Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.

She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.

The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?

Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.

“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.

Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.

“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.

Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”

“Tell me about her.”

The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.

The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.

She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.

In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.

Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.

“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”

The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.

“I do. No need to remind me.”

“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”

“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.

-

You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.

Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?

The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.

-

“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.

“I love that!” Lou quipped.

“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”

Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.

“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.

“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.

“The what?”

“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.

“If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.

She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.

After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”

The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.

“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”

Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.

Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.

What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.

The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.

“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”

“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”

“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.

Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.

“We will not be the prime suspect.”

“Then who will be the prime suspect?”

Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.

“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.

“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”

Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”

While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”

You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.

“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”

“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.

Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.

The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.

That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.

“Lou?”

“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.

“You have to thank Debs for that.”

Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”

“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”

Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.

“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.

“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.

You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.

There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.

“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.

“I know, Lou. I love you too.”

[thetoadghoul]

Volunteering: (Ohtani x Reader) <333 (Part - 2)

part 1!

plot: Wednesday’s game arrives which Ohtani invited you to, some bonding time before the first pitch <3 slowwwburn, long cause idk details are fun lol

Wednesday quickly arrived, made much faster by the crazy amount of work you were required to do for your ‘actual’ job. The last three days had been spent with you running around the LA area, as well as cyberspace, to serve your role as interpreter. It was hell, for more reasons than one. The biggest of all being that even though you were not in Japan at the moment, you were still required to wear a proper suit. That meant a tight navy skirt, stockings, and some blasted heels. Sexist men, long meetings, and endless paperwork aside, you enjoyed your job for the most part - but this aspect really wore on you. However, the pain in your feet wouldn't damper your excitement for tonight’s game. Today you were not actually volunteering at the Angels stadium.

The day before yesterday, when you were actually volunteering, a bashful Ohtani had tapped you on the back while you were picking up baseballs from the batting cages. When you turned around the giant man was holding out a lanyard with an attached document, marked ‘VIP Guest of Player’. It took all you had not to let your hands shake with nerves as you reached out and grabbed it gingerly.

“Uh, see you on Wednesday.” The man looked to the side awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“...Yeah.” You responded with a small smile, feeling stupid, but it was all you could think of.

“Well, uh, I better go...” He motioned behind his back with a lazy thumb, staring to jog backward.

You nodded quickly, rushing to go back to picking up balls before you said something super lame, or weird.

It wasn’t till you were on the way home did you take a look at the back of the stadium pass. It read ‘Guest of Shohei Ohtani’. So he had put in the request for you, that was just like him, so kind. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t excited for tomorrow.

-----

Currently, your heart was still racing, but for another reason other than a certain super cute and insanely talented baseball player. It was because it was almost three-thirty in the afternoon and you were running around your company-provided apartment, trying to get ready as fast as you could. Ippei let you know you should get there around four-thirty, by then the team would have been done warming up and starting to enjoy a pregame meal while the away team got the field to themselves. From that point onwards, pretty much everyone was free to relax in the clubhouse till just before the first pitch.

With little time to consider, not even enough time to take a shower after having just got off work, you went with an oversized red T-shirt, baggy jeans, and some cool Jordan’s. This was your go-to, and it was comfortable. You don’t have many clothes anyway, living out of a suitcase.

Right as you were about to run out of the door you remembered to grab your standard Angels cap, it had been provided to you as part of your volunteer uniform a while back, slipping it on over your tight work bun. You would let your hair down later.

All right, everything was in order, Uber scheduled, lanyard secured.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the stadium, and once it came into view, you instructed the driver to let you out in front of the ballpark entrance. It had been a long time since you got to go through the gates as a member of the audience, it actually gave you a wave of nostalgia seeing everyone in their gear, so hyped up for the game, tailing gating outside for what was probably hours.

Once you were through, you started walking through the concession stands and various other stalls, dodging around the fans that were already inside watching the warm-ups, as well as hanging out drinking and eating. There were pictures of Ohtani everywhere, people taking turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the various cutouts of him. The air was buzzing with energy, and it seemed like all for that guy. Honestly, you had worked for a couple different teams over the years, but you had never seen hype like this. It was surreal, seeing a legend in the making.

You smiled, gripping the lanyard around your neck, making your way through the stadium. Shohei was super nice to do this for you, really, you should show him your support. Maybe a quick peek in the team store would do? Plus, you deserved to spend some money on yourself. After all, this was the first time you had really been ‘out’ in the almost three months you had been in California. Your free time was either working, volunteering, video games, or sleep.

You took a couple moments in the Angel's merch shop, quietly perusing the aisles, keeping an eye out for any Ohtani-themed items. Unfortunately, there weren’t really that many, probably sold out by the fans. What was there, was way too small for you.

“Y/n, you here to watch the game?” A young voice sounded.

When you turned to see who addressed you, a familiar girl was standing there grinning.

“Hey Jordan! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” You grinned back.

Jordan worked at the store as a stock manager, she was close in age to you so the two of you often hung out. You had invited her over a couple times, both bonding over your love for crappy reality TV, beer, and of course, baseball.

“Yeah it was last minute, a girl was feeling sick and there wasn’t anyone else cept’ me.” She sighed.

“Bummer, text me if you need help?” You offered, to which she waved you off.

“Nah, you enjoy being here and NOT working.” She chuckled, walking over to organize a messy shelf.

“So, you looking for something in particular?” The girl glanced over her shoulder.

“Uh yeah, you recommend any cool Ohtani stuff? Or is there any at all... seems wiped clean in here.” You said while looking around.

“Ohtani? You here to cheer him on too then. Wanna catch his eye.” She teased.

“Don’t say it like I’m just here for my like, prince charming.” You snapped back playfully, but, maybe a little too fast.

“Aren’t you?” She pressed with an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You pouted, fake walking away.

“I’m just kidding, actually, stay here for a second I might have something you’ll like.” Jordan yelled as she jogged off to the back room behind the counters.

You did as you were told and when she came back there was a large white Angels jersey in her hands.

“Ta-da!” She grinned, twisting it around to show the player’s name on the back.

“Oh, it’s in Kanji? That’s cool, I didn’t know these existed?” You questioned, running your finger over the ‘tani’ character of Ohtani.

“It’s the last one on the floor, had to grab it off the mannequin. Hope it’s not too big? It’s XL?” She questioned, passing it to you to hold.

“Nah it’s perfect, can’t you tell.” You joked holding the jersey next to you, while you showed off your oversized clothes.

“Figured it'd be fine, wanna get rung up? I’ll give you that ‘good good’ employee discount. But, don’t tell anyone.” She smiled, heading to the register, to which you nodded and jogged after her.

After you finished your purchase and waved bye to Jordan, it was time to head to the clubhouse. It was around five, so you were later than you planned but Shohei usually practiced batting in the cages a little while longer while everyone headed in. Slipping the plastic shopping bag into your purse, and ripping the tags off your new jersey, you slipped it on over your T-shirt, smoothing out the material as best you could. It felt great to finally have some real merch from the team, and part of you sort of wondered what Ohtani would think when he saw you. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much to just show up in his gear after he pretty much randomly invited you, let alone in the stadium-specific one, as you just learned from your colleague.

After you got to an employee-only doorway, you pushed on it hoping it was actually open. Ippei had also let you know via text that it would be unlocked for you. Another kindness of Shohei, not just inviting you, but making sure you had access to all the catering and AC inside the resisted area of the building. You slipped in and locked the door behind you, not wanting to encourage some intoxicated fans to follow. The hallway was empty and cool as you started making your way to the clubhouse.

You were admittedly a bit nervous by the time you got to the doors, feeling a bit awkward about strutting in as anyone other than a volunteer for the first time. Carefully you pushed open the door, making sure not to hit anybody. The room was full of chatter, some players eating, some playing cards, others watching TV on the room's monitors. You looked around for Ohtani, but he wasn’t there yet apparently. No matter, you strolled in and went for the snack area. Truthfully you hadn’t eaten since that morning, and that was just a toasted bagel. Turning your back to the rest of the room, you began filling up your plate with cocktail shrimp and grapes.

“Nice jersey.” Ippei said, coming up next to you, grabbing small sandwiches for his plate.

“Is that sarcastic?” You questioned with a smile, finishing your plate.

“Nah, I’m sure he likes it.” Ippei jerked his head to the left.

He? You leaned back to see around the man, meeting Shohei’s surprised face almost immediately. Had he been standing there the whole time? He had obviously been staring at your back, at his name, bashfully looking up to your face when you moved, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes.

“I uh, got it ten minutes ago.” You grinned awkwardly, pointing your thumb proudly at the jersey, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a weirdo.

The large player didn’t say anything, blinking more slowly this time before opting to just nod gently, with a quick “thanks for your support”, hurriedly leaning forward to start filling his plate with all kinds of foods.

—-

Once everyone had their food the three of you found a place to sit while you ate, it was at the back of the room away from the noise, and where the two usually sat before a game anyways. A small conversation started while the three of you ate calmly.

“Why... do you only have grapes, and shrimp?” Ohtani questioned suddenly, looking at your plate baffled. You looked down at it as well, pausing for a moment trying to find out what was so weird about that.

“Uh, well, it’s because... these things are... super expensive in Tokyo. It’s like a rich person food to me.” You smiled, eating a couple shrimps happily.

“Wow. That’s so sad.” Ippei chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Shohei on the other hand burst out laughing at your response, making you laugh a bit too at your pitiful confession.

“Seriously, I feel like a mega-rich, and very posh, Ginza lady right now - eating nothing but shrimp and fruit. So fancy right? ” You exclaimed, popping a grape in your mouth.

The Japanese player laughed even harder, tears building up as he wiped his eyes.

“Those people wouldn’t touch that stuff with a three-meter stick.” Ippei stated, letting out a small laugh.

“Just let me have my moment.” You pouted through a smile, shoving more shrimp in your mouth.

The other man calmed down finally and was now sitting there smiling while he ate.

“So, fancy y/n, are you okay to sit in the dugout tonight. Not too unrefined for you?” Ippei questioned with a smirk.

“That’s, allowed?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t stay there the whole time, but.” The man responded nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s the best place to hear, ‘the surprise’.” Shohei added, food in the process of being shoved in his mouth.

“Well, doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.” You smiled at the player, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“He’s batting first tonight, you won’t have to wait long.” Ippei spoke, starting on the next sandwich.

“Hope me being in there won’t be bad luck.” You joked.

“You believe in that?” Ippei smirked.

“My family ingrained it into me, wasn’t allowed to watch a single super bowl game in the living room till I literally moved out.” You frowned, stabbing a grape.

“Harsh.” The man smirked with a small laugh under his breath.

“You will be good luck, for sure.” Shohei leaned forward in a hunch to take another bite of food, smiling sincerely at you as he looked up from his food.

“Then, I will see to it that will become a very good omen. Please believe in me.” You responded in the highest form of keigo you knew, bowing rigidly from your seat for comedic effect. Since you never studied that level of grammar, it was really freaking bad, causing the two men to laugh again.

“You’re funny.” Ippei chuckled.

“Yeah, and your Japanese is so good though?” Shohei exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

“Nah it’s pretty bad, I fell off the study wagon a long time ago.” You laughed awkwardly, waving a hand in front of your face.

“You’d be there forever if you stayed on.” Ippei chuckled again, while Shohei nodded in sullen agreement.

“Writing would be nice though, having to look up every other kanji at the doctor's office, or like city hall makes me literally sweat, like, a lot. Buckets. But when I look around, I'm the only one.” You giggled.

“You’re so honest.” Shohei chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin, still leaning forward in his chair, you grinned back at him. Your eyes locked for a while, you had never noticed, but his eyelashes were sort of long.

At that moment Ippei had to take a call, letting the two of you know he’d be back in a bit, walking off. The two of you looked away and finished eating in silence.

When you looked up from your empty plate, the large player was now staring at you with a soft expression. The warmth in his eyes made you blush, he didn’t even break his gaze once he was caught like he usually did. You responded back to him simply with a shy smile, before being the one to avert your own eyes to the floor again.

Thankfully at that moment, a group of Angels came over, slapping the Japanese man on the back, starting up a conversion. They were going over strategies for the game and overall just getting hyped up. You didn’t have much to input, so you just kind of sat there enjoying the excited chatter. Shohei smiled merrily the whole time, inserting little jokes, completely affected by their excitement. The way he carried himself really reminded you that the essence of baseball was really just about having fun with your teammates and giving it your all. He looked simply happy to be there, and it made you smile too, just watching him goof off. It was charming to see his duality of being a just big kid with endless laugher, versus the super-serious, and seasoned player he was on the mound.

You were really trying hard not to but, you were rapidly developing feelings for Shohei. The last three months of volunteering here, you of course thought he was really cute and kind, classic boyfriend material. A simple crush, like many of the girls working around him, surely had as well. However the possibility of you two actually dating had always been a foreign concept, one which stopped you from even considering it, at all, you just didn’t know if you even could. With you both traveling for work, how would there be time? Plus, what about the media? His family? Yours? All those things seemed unscalable walls, that is, until this moment, when you could feel his gentle eyes on you once again.

Maybe, there was something? Or maybe, he was just a super nice guy, and you were treated no different than anyone else.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Shohei was starting to stand up, grabbing everyone’s empties plates. He reached his hand towards you, asking for the one in your hand with a tiny nod of his head, to which you thanked him, stood up, and handed it over.

Well.

Either way, you were so screwed.

-------

Hope you enjoyed! <3

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself. 

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence,  now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A  beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.” 

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.  

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition. 

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~sixth chapter rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Two months later, you sat outside The Daily Bugle and impatiently bounced your leg. While waiting to see if your boss liked your first draft of the Cleatus Kassidy article, you reflected on your past two months in New York.

It was now June. You and Venom had fallen into a routine. You’d work on the Cletus article by day and go patrolling at night. Of course, being Venom wasn’t a nightly occurrence. You’d only go out eating once or twice a week. Still, you managed to have 11 run ins with Spider-Man.

You and Peter had become significantly closer in that past two months as well. You’d help him with his homework, though you secretly thought he was smarter than you, and he helped me with your story. Some nights, he’d visit you on your fire escape and watch the sun go down. You had no idea how he got there, but you didn’t care.

You’d send him science puns while he was at school and he’d bring you food and keep you company when You had writers block. Your favorite was the long talks on the roof. You would sit there for hours and tell each other everything. You knew all his secrets and he knew yours.

Well, not all.

But the best part of all was that every now and then, you’d catch the other staring. Then, the other would stare back until someone, usually Peter, started to lean in. Every time you thought you were finally going to take the next step, something would interrupt you. Whether it was May knocking or Ned barging in or Peters phone ringing. That was another thing about Peter. His damn phone was always ringing and then he’d have to dash off somewhere, leaving you with a random excuse or something about an internship. Sometimes, you’d wish he’d just throw his phone aside and kiss you already.

“Great work so far, L/n.” Your boss tore you away from your thoughts. “I knew you’d be right for the job.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jameson.” You stammered as you stood up. “I really appreciate you giving me this job. I was kinda blackballed back in San Francisco.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “But you ask the hard hitting questions that people want to hear. Once this article is out, I want you to write one on Venom.”

“Venom?” You gulped at her name.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You know that scary black monster that’s been fighting Spiderman? I’m thinking an exposé on that menace webhead and his latest enemy, and I think you’d be perfect for the job.”


“I would love to.” You said quickly. “I’ll start researching right away.”

With that, you turned on your heel and left the building before Venom caused a scene.

“Monster?” Venom roared once you got in your car. “Scary?”

“I know.” You whined. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was gonna call you that.”

“His whole job is reading about the most dangerous criminals in New York. If he thinks we’re scary, what’s Peter gonna think?” Venom asked. You laughed in dismissal until you thought about what he said.

What would Peter think? What if you told Peter who you really were and he ran away? He was sweet and understanding, but how understanding could he possibly be when you tell him you can turn into a flesh eating monster?

That’s when you realized you were scared. You were scared of letting Peter in and him letting himself right out. You were scared of repeating the mistakes you made with Andy. No, not scared.

Petrified.

What if Peter didn’t like what he saw? What if he realized you were too messy to be with? Or had too much baggage? Peter deserved a nice girl. One with a normal family and friends. One without depression. One without a flesh eating symbiote attached to their immune system.

“What’s wrong baby?” Venom asked with concern. She cuddled around your neck and nuzzled into your cheek.

“I can never be with Peter.” You whispered, mostly to yourself. Hot tears of frustration filled your eyes so you looked up to keep them from falling. Admitting it felt like a fatal blow to the stomach. Venom tied your hair up with one of her arms and wiped the tears from your face.

“Why do you say that?”

You thought about it for a moment before answering. You didn’t want to tell Venom that you were feeling insecure. She freaked out on you whenever you said something negative about yourself. You didn’t wanna another 100 slide PowerPoint titled “why Y/N L/N is the baddest bitch in the galaxy”. Especially since forty of those slides were just pictures of your butt. You appreciated Venom wanting to help but you were feeling the kind of insecure that a pep talk couldn’t fix. You needed to figure it out on your own. So instead, you told her a different fear you had.

“Because. Look at us. We’re the only thing keeping each other alive.” You reasoned. “What if we get separated and die? I can’t become one of those people in Peters life who loved him and then left him. His mom, his dad, his Uncle Ben. I don’t want to die and leave Peter behind. He’s been through enough. He’d be so much better off without me.”

“We’re not gonna die. You protect me and I protect you. Nothing will hurt us as long as we have each other.” Venom assured you.

“I can’t protect you like you protect me.” You said softly. “I’m just a human. What if something happens to me and you die because of it?”

“Nothing will happen to you, Y/N. I promise. I won’t let it.” Venom swore. You looked at her and gave her a sad smile.

“I won’t let anything happen to you either.” You said, but you didn’t promise it. You knew you couldn’t promise it.

“And you can be with Peter.” Venom insisted. “On Klyntar, we mate for life. And we think you’ve found your mate in Peter.”

“What does that mean?” You wondered.

“It means we’ve become attached to him and will never be happy with anyone else.” Venom said. You let out a shaky breath as that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You needed a reason to shut your feelings for Peter down.

“Like soulmates?” You asked.

“Exactly like soulmates.” Venom answered.

“Well what happens on Klyntar if someone is your soulmate but you’re not theirs?”

“Then we go into a cave and mourn until we die alone of heartbreak.” Venom said simply.

“That sounds about right.” You laughed sadly as you took a second to think.

“I’m gonna call that guy back.” You said suddenly.

“What guy?” She asked.

“They guy who asked me out at the coffee shop this morning.” You reminded her.

“The one with the stupid hair? Why would you call him?” Venom asked angrily.

“What was wrong with his hair?” You laughed.

“It was blonde. We like brunette.” Venom said with a devilish grin.

“His hair was fine.” You rolled your eyes. “And I’m gonna call him to say yes to the date.”

“Why would we do that when we like Peter?” Venom whined.

“Because if Peter doesn’t like us, I don’t want to die of heartbreak alone in a cave.” You admitted.

“He does love you.” Venom protested.

“We don’t know that.” You shook your head. “It’s just one date. I need to get back out there anyway. I haven’t gone on a date Andy and I broke up.”

“Fine.” Venom grumbled. “But this is a terrible idea and I’m going to complain the whole time and sing the Les Mis soundtrack in your head.” This was one of those moments where she felt more like your toddler than your symbiote.

You gave the guy a call before driving back to your apartment. As fate would have it, you ran into Peter in the hallway on your way to your room.

“Hey Y/n!” Peter greeted you. “You want to come over later and help me with spanish? I’ll amo you mucho.”

You wanted so badly to say yes but you had to stick to the plan to squash your feelings for Peter.

“Aw, I’m sorry Pete. I wish I could but I have a date tonight.” You frowned, instantly regretting it when you saw the look on his face.

Peter’s heart sank to the floor as he emotions went from feeling devastated to feeling white hot anger in a matter of seconds

“A date?” He sputtered. “With who?”

“Some boy I met at the coffee shop.” You said weakly, knowing you were hurting him.

“Oh.” He said dully. 

“Some boy.” He thought angrily. “Some freaking dirty ass sissy coffee boy asked my girl out.”

Peter felt like hunting the man down and smacking the shit out of him. Or at the very least, webbing him to a wall leaving him there until he missed the date.

“What’s his name?” Peter asked suddenly, wanting to put a name to his new mortal enemy.

“Matt.” You nodded slowly.

“Freaking Matt.” Peter thought. “Freaking dirty ass bitch ass Matt. Was Matt Spider-Man? No. Could Matt treat you as well as I could? Probably. But did he like you as much? No. Did he have inside jokes with you? No. Could he make you laugh your beautiful laugh just by doing a Captain America impression? No. He wasn’t good enough for you. He couldn’t do the things I could do. He was trash. He was a trashy dirty ass rat boy.”

“Interesting.” Peter said, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“I’ll text you when it’s over and maybe I can help you then.” You offered. That sound okay, guapo?”

Peter nodded sadly, not even acknowledging that you called him handsome. Actually, he probably had no idea that you did. He was smart, but only in English.

“That’s fine.” He nodded glumly. “I’ll see you later.”

You watched Peter trudge into his apartment and felt a pain in your heart. He seemed so upset all the sudden. It couldn’t be from your date, could it? It’s not like you told him you got engaged or something. It was one little date. And it’s not like Peter even made a move. He had no reason to be upset. You brushed it off and went into your apartment to get ready.

Just as Venom predicted, the date went horribly wrong. You drove back to the apartment in silence afterwards, leaving Matt to clean himself off back at the restaurant.

“Why did that happen?” You asked her after a long drive in silence. You were mortified from the events of the night but you needed to know why they happened.

“Because he wasn’t your soulmate.” Venom said simply.

“We defiled that boy.”

“It happens.” Venom stated.

“It shouldn’t.” You said, shocked at how nonchalantly she was being.

“But it does.”

You rode the rest of the way in silence, shooting Peter a text before asleep on your couch. You woke up a few hours later in a cold sweat and in tears. You didn’t know it, but Peter was listening to your breathing from his apartment. He had picked up the small cries of his name in your sleep with his superhearing and stayed up to see if you were okay.

You weren’t, by the way. You had had a nightmare that shook you deeply and left you shaking. It was about Peter, but not in a good way. In this dream, he laid injured on the ground after a fight. You were separated from Venom and bleeding out near Peter. You couldn’t do anything to save him. You couldn’t scream for help. And worse, you couldn’t protect him. It caused you great agony to not be able to reach him.

Without giving it another thought, you got off your couch and made your way to the door. You needed to see Peter and tell him how you felt.

You didn’t care about your insecurities anymore. You didn’t care about all the things keeping you apart. You only cared about him, and that was enough. He needed to know that and you couldn’t wait another second.

You swung open your front door, only to find Peter Parker outside it in pink Hello Kitty pajama bottoms and a tight white t-shirt. His hand was raised, like he was about to knock.

“Hey.” you breathed. His hair was tousled and sticking up in random places. He looked heavenly.

“Hi.” He said shyly.

“I was just about to go to your door. I had a bad dream.” You told him. You were anxious to skip the semantics and cut right to the chase. 

The chase being, “I love you and I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Yeah, I heard. That’s why I’m here.” Peter explained. That’s not what he wanted to say. What he wanted to say was, “I’m always here if you need me. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. I love you. It’ll be okay.”

Peter looked at you funny for a moment, like he was seeing something beneath the surface.

“She looks so beautiful.” He thought. Makeup free, hair a little messy, and nothing but an oversized sweatshirt to cover you. Peter recognized the sweatshirt as his own, one you had swiped from his laundry basket because you had been freezing while watching Alien in his room. He felt so honored to know that you slept in it. Peter wondered how many times he could fall in love with you in a short span of time. In the past few seconds, he’d fallen about 15 times. Once for every breath you took. And you were breathing quite heavily.

“You heard?” You asked, wondering how he

had possible heard from his apartment.

“My hearing is excellent.” He said quickly. “Are you alright?”

“Please be alright.” He thought. “I’d stop anything that tried to hurt you. I’ll protect you from the storm. Don’t shut me out. Don’t turn me away. Let me love you.”

“Um…” You trailed off and looked behind you at your empty apartment. The darkness looked anything but inviting. You couldn’t go back in there just yet.

“No?” It came out as more of a question.

“No? Do you want to talk about it-“ Peter was cut off when you rushed into his arm and hugged him tightly. He seemed taken aback, seeing as you nearly knocked the wind out of him. But as soon as he found his footing, he wrapped his strong arms around you and held you close. You relaxed in Peters embrace and let out a sigh.

“I had a nightmare.” You croaked. “You died and I couldn’t save you.” 

“I know. It’s okay. You’re awake now. I’m here.” Peter said soothingly. 

“I’ve been here the whole time.” He thought. “I will never abandon you. You are safe in my arms. Nothing can hurt you now. I won’t let it.”

You pulled away a little and looked at his face, seeing how tired it was.

“Would you stay with me?” You asked timidly. You didn’t want him to go. Not now, not ever.

“Always.” Peter answered with a smile. “As if I could ever leave you.”

Your lips lit up in a smile as your eyes fell to his lips. They lingered there for too long, or maybe just long enough. Peter took the hint and slipped his hand behind your neck and began to pull you closer. As your lips were about to touch, your door slammed, causing you to jump out of each other’s embrace.

“Shit balls.” You said immediately, letting out an annoyed sigh.

“What?” Peter asked, giggling a little at your choice of profanity.

“I just locked myself out.” You realized as you jiggled through door handle. Peter laughed louder this time and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Come on. You’re sleeping over.” He said, leading you back to his apartment with his hand on the small of his back.

You entered Peters room for the millionth time, but it felt the first time. Sure, you’d become good friends in the time you’ve lived in the building, but bedrooms were intimate places. The context of you being in Peters bedroom after going to him for comfort changes how you saw the place. After all, bedrooms were windows into the soul. Oh wait, that’s eyes. Still, the room was different. You didn’t feel like you were entering it. You felt like you were returning.

You looked around with a content smile on your face. He still had his academic decathlon posters on his wall, along with a few Avengers posters. Peter was pretty neat, but he was still a teenage boy. Socks and sweaters were strewn across the room. You saw him kicking a pair of boxers under his desk out of the corner of you eye. His room was so cute. It was so…Peter. You noticed a first aid kit on his desk next to his chemistry textbook and wondered what on earth he could be using it for.

“I’ve always liked your room.” You complimented as you touched a decathlon trophy on his dresser.

“Oh thank God.” Peter sighed in relief. “I thought you’d take one look at my nerdy ambiance and run.”

“Star Wars bedsheets?” You asked when you noticed the Death Star poking out under his duvet. You definitely hadn’t seen those before and found them endearing. Peters ears reddened and he fixed his duvet to cover them up.

“Those aren’t mine.” He said quickly.

“Are they Mays? As in May the force be with you?” You played along and he gave you a defeated smile.

“That was the worst thing anyone has ever said. Ever.” Peter joked. You laughed and he gave you a shy smile.

“Fine. They’re my bedsheets. Star Wars is cool, okay?” Peter defended. You took a seat on his bed and shrugged.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me Peter. I just didn’t know you were a loser, is all.”You said simply. Peter sat down on the bed next to you and rolled his eyes.

“Very funny. You’re the funniest person I know.” He said sarcastically. You nudged him with your elbow and he and hit you with a Yoda printed pillow.

“Mm. Good with the force you are.” You commented. Peter groaned loudly and told you to shut up.

“Enough playing around. How was your date?” Peter asked as he turned to face you. You could hear the pain in his voice and regretted ever telling him about the date.

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged. “Terrible.”

You weren’t going to let him off the hook that easy. If Peter really did like you and want to be with you, he needed to say it. He couldn’t just grumble and wallow in self pity when you were with another boy. You wanted to test him to see if he’d ever actually admit his feelings, but a part of you was still scared there were no feelings to admit to.

“Really?” He said excitedly. He cleared his throat to cover it up and grunted. “I mean, really?” He asked calmly.

“Yeah it was awful. I definitely won’t be seeing him again.” You sighed sadly, but you weren’t actually sad. You were just putting on a show for Peter. Peter bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from emerging.

“That’s terrible.” Peter lied. “What went wrong?”

His acting was equally as bad as your own. He had a shit eating grin on his face, pretending to be sad when he was clearly over the moon.

“It was going fine all night until the kiss.” You sighed dramatically, looking longingly out the window. You might as well have thrown yourself onto the balcony and cried out for Romeo. Peter, however, was buying every second of it.

“You guys kissed?” He asked, his voice heavy with disappointment. He looked miserable. All you wanted to do was throw your arms around his neck and tell him he was the only one for you. Instead, you kept your feelings to yourself and nodded slowly.

“Almost. He leaned in and…” instead of finishing your sentence, you just shrugged. You could tell Peter was on the edge of his seat so you dragged it as long as you could.

“And?” Peter practically begged. You let out another long, dramatic sigh as Peter took a slow sip of his water bottle.

“And I threw up on him.” You said simply. Peter spat out the water in his mouth and burst out laughing, doing his best to cover it up. You gave him a fake angry look but ended up laughing as well.

“What?” Peter laughed.

“He was such a tool.” You whined. “He talked down to me the entire night and then had the audacity to try and kiss me. I don’t know what happened but all the sudden he was leaning in and I was throwing up. He deserved it though. He treated me like was an idiot. I’m almost glad I threw up on him.”

Peters was overjoyed. He was about to say something when we heard a straggled cry of your name.

You and Peter rushed to his peephole and saw a familiar blonde haired boy standing in the hallway.

There he was, Matt, outside your apartment door with his phone on full volume playing “Hungry Eyes” from Dirty Dancing.

“What the actual hell?” You wondered out loud. “I better get rid of him.”

“Y/nnnnnn. I’m sorry I was a jerk.” Matt slurred. “Please talk to me. I told the doorman we were cousins. Then I told the elevator guy that I was your husband. You may need to move now. Y/nnnn.”

“You definitely can’t go out there.” Peter shook his head. “He could have a knife.”

“Or worse.” You whispered, making Peter looked at you fearfully. “He could have the same loser bedsheets you do.”

Peter scrunched his nose at you and picked up you swiftly to threw you onto the couch.

“Since when are you so strong?” You laughed in shock. Peter shrugged and held out a hand.

“Let’s go to bed.” He said. You raised an eyebrow and he quickly added, “In a non-sexual, platonic way.”

He was always so cautious of offending you or making you uncomfortable. You appreciated how much of a gentleman he was and knew Aunt May had implemented those qualities in him.

“You can take the bed.” He offered. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded and climbed into his bed, patting the the space next to you.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You told him. “Get in.”

Peter looked at you with wide eyes, looking very unsure of himself as he toyed with the hem of his shirt.

He was torn. He wanted to get into the bed, but he also knew you were vulnerable right now and he didn’t want to take advantage of you. He didn’t want to do anything you’d end up regretting in the morning.

“Get in, in a non-sexual, platonic way.” You added. Peter relaxed but stayed standing. You pretended to splash Peter and twirled your hand around the bedsheets as if they were water.

“Come on in Parker. The waters warm.” You said in a low voice.

“I am…repulsed.” Peter deadpanned. In reality, he was dying to get in the bed. He wasn’t gonna try anything, he just wanted to feel you close. He wanted to comfort you and take the pain of the night away. Finally, he got into the bed and pulled the covers up. He shut off his lamp and we fell into comfortable silence.

“Good night, Peter.” You whispered, turning your back to him and cuddling into his pillow.

“Night, Y/n.” He whispered back. You felt his eyes on the back of your neck still. He didn’t want to close them and fall asleep. He wanted to stay in this moment as long as he could.

You soon felt hesitant arms wrap around your waist. Peter was very unsure of himself and kept his hands loosely on your hips, barely touching. You turned your neck around and looked at him quizzically.

“What the hell are you doing?” You demanded. His hands flew off your waist and his eyes widened with fear. He looked so apologetic, you thought he might cry.

“Do you not know how to cuddle?” You asked before he could blurt out an apology. You grabbed his arms and pulled them tightly around your body. You held his hands in your own, flush against your chest. Peter felt really tense at first and a bit stiff, but he soon relaxed and nestled into your hair.

“You smell really good.” He muttered. You laughed softly against his body, prompting Peter to hold you even tighter.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Y/N.” He whispered. He said it so quietly, you figured he thought you had fallen asleep. “Sweet dreams.”

You woke up the next morning in Peter Parker’s arms. Subsequently, you wanted to wake up every morning for the rest of your life in Peter Parker’s arms. You were a mess of tangled limbs and hair but you found yourself firmly in his embrace, inhaling his cologne.

Peters eyes fluttered open suddenly and you were nose to nose.

“Hi.” You said softly, a playful smile resting on your lips. He was so pretty in the morning. He didn’t even have to try.

“Hey.” He chuckled. “This is new.”

“It is new. Is it okay?” You asked him, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

“Is waking up next to the actual sun okay?” He teased. “Uh yea, Y/n. It’s okay. You can sleep over anytime you like if it means more mornings like this.”

Of course he said that. He held all your strings and knew just how to tug them.

“Did you really not enjoy that date?” He whispered, but in his head thought, “Do you want to be with anyone else?”

You didn’t know why he was whispering, but the look in his eyes told you he was dead serious.

“Not in the slightest.” You answered honestly. What you wanted to say was, “Because it wasn’t with you.”, but you didn’t.

“Would you…would you want to go out with me sometime?” He asked shyly. “I promise I won’t throw up on you.”

He said the second part as if it was the only way you’d say yes to the date, which made you laugh.

“Peter Parker, I have waited exactly 64 days for you to ask me that question and you just had to ruin it by promising you won’t throw up on me?” You playfully scolded as Peters eyes lit up.

“Is that a yes?” He asked excitedly.

“It’s a yes.” You nodded, holding his nearest hand. “It’s always been a yes.”

“Can I-“ He began.

“Don’t ask.” You whispered. “Just do it.”

Peter leaned in slowly and you did the same. His lips had just ghosted yours when Aunt May knocked on the door. He bolted out of bed as you sat up.

“Breakfast is ready. Did you clean your room?” Aunt May called from the other side of the door.

“Yes.” Peter called back. You looked around. No he didn’t

“No you didn’t.” She said knowingly. She didn’t even have to see his room to know it wasn’t clean.

“I’ll clean it after.” He groaned.

“I’m coming in.” She said suddenly, making you and Peter look at each other in fear.

“Don’t! I’m naked.” He screamed.

“Fine. But it better be clean after breakfast. And put some clothes on. You should not be naked at 7 am.” Aunt May said. You heard her footsteps walking away and knew it was safe to speak. You got out of Peters bed as he got up to lock the door, his back still to you as he did it.

“Alright.” He sighed. “That should buy us some ti-“

The second he turned around, he was met with your lips on his. You had your hands on the sides of his face and your head tilted to the left. You felt Peters eyes flutter shut as his eyelashes tickled your cheeks. He was frozen at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. You melted into him and he melted right back into you. The kiss was short and sweet, but absolutely perfect.

When you pulled away, Peter gave you the softest eyes ever. A grateful smile was on his lips.

“I am so over these interrupted moments.” You laughed softly as you shook your head. Peters eyes twinkled in agreement. The sun was coming through the window and made his brown eyes look like pots of honey. You could stare at them forever.

And then he kissed you again, with confidence this time. He wasn’t ready for the last one since you caught him off guard. You let your fingers tangle in the messy curls at the back of his neck, something you thought you’d only get to dream of doing. Peter groaned slightly into your mouth as you tugged on his hair, indicating that he liked it. He put his hand under your neck and slipped his toungue in your mouth. Who knew Peter Parker knew how to kiss? He tasted like morning breath, spearmint chapstick, and something you could only identify as being exclusively Peter. When you pulled apart, he looked up at the sky and sighed.

“If I wake up and this is all a dream I’m going to fight you.” He said menacingly.

“Did you just threaten God?” You laughed.

“For you? Anthing. I’ll fight anyone for your honor. Our Lord and Savior can catch these hands can square up.” He promised.

“You’ve gone to far.” You joked. “We need to break up.”

“Don’t even joke. I’ve waited too long for this.” Peter said as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m only teasing. I’ve waited my whole life for you Parker. I’m never letting you go.” You told him. He burst out in a smile and kissed you swiftly, then promptly got down on one knee.

“Will you please be mine, darling? Officially?” He pleaded softly. There was so much hope in his eyes so you pretended to think about it.

“Sorry.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty busy with Matt.”

Peter stood up and gripped your hips, pulling you closer while you let out a small gasp.

“I never want to hear his name again. He had the privilege of taking my girl on a date and treated her poorly?” He raised an eyebrow. “He’s a deadman if I ever see him around here. Now, I need you to tell me you’re my girlfriend before my heart explodes. Tell me you’re mine. I won’t believe it until you say it. ”

You nodded yes as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips.

“Peter Parker, I always have, and always will be, yours.”

[kaylans-imagines]

0. i hate her

pairing: peter b. parker x fem! reader

synopsis: in which y/n hates everything about peter parker, especially the way she can’t really hate him

↳ loosely based on the movie with the same title

warnings: cursing, fluff, a generous amount of angst, peter's an asshole, y/n's an asshole, familial death, incarceration. i don't know if there's more.

chapter warnings: cursing, starts off slow, flash.

series masterlist

*gif credits to the rightful owner*

The brisk air of the changing seasons accompanied Peter as he made his way to the school entrance from the train stop. His headphones sat snuggly inside his ears, playing a song that made the usually lonely journey to school less so. Ned didn’t take the same route as he did, so he had no one to talk to or make the trek to school less boring. He didn’t mind it; it gave him time to think and even finish school work. Still, sometimes he wanted someone by his side so he could discuss whatever was on his mind that day or ask questions whenever an assignment didn’t make sense.

The long ride to the school did give him time to people watch. There were times when he would deduce who could be a possible threat. Other times, he would simply look at people and try to figure out their stories without actually talking to them. The old lady who brought her cat onto the subway had severe separation anxiety caused by her estranged son. The man with exhausted eyes who looked like he was on the brink of passing out on his seat had a newborn daughter at home. And Peter was just trying to get to school, along with the other teenager on the subway. He didn’t talk to him, they were on entirely different wavelengths, but there was an understanding between the two of them. Whenever they saw each other, they would nod their heads in greeting. They would always sit one seat away from one another, and if the other was running late, they would wait.

He made his way up the stairs and towards the school, turning up the volume as a way to tune out the sounds of high school that he hated. The cheery rhymes that left the sounds of the cheerleaders to the arguing of students over who was right; he hated them before the bite, and he especially despised them now that he had hypersensitive hearing. Sighing in annoyance, he looked both ways before crossing the street only to rush forward as a car came barreling down the road.

“I swear to god, Y/N!” he heard her sister, Juliette, shriek, “we almost killed him!”

“But we didn’t. If you’re going to complain about my driving, then you can take the bus, Jules,”

“You almost killed someone!” Peter heard her exclaim. He could feel the way Y/N rolled her eyes.

“It’s only Peter,” she stated, making eye contact with him through the rearview as she let students pass, “who cares if he gets slightly scuffled?”

“You have literal issues,” Julie gasped. The car sped down the road, leaving Peter alone with a slightly elevated heart rate and irritation laced in his bones. It was the first day of school, and he nearly got run over. And by his ex-best friend turned enemy at that. He couldn’t wait to complain to Ned.

Their dynamic had changed, and Peter blamed her. They became friends because of Y/N’s grandmother and May in kindergarten. They were two birds of a feather until halfway towards seventh grade when Y/N became snippy and ruined what Peter thought was their perfect friendship. They drifted apart, and he blamed her for it breaking apart. He watched as she became someone he didn’t know anymore and left him behind. He just didn’t think it was fair for her to act self-righteous when she ruined their relationship.

“You okay, Pete?” Ned questioned as he fell into step with Peter, who was fuming with irritation.

“Yeah, just almost got run over by Midtown’s resident ice bitch,” he gritted. Ned nodded in response. He was friends with both Peter and Y/N once upon a time. Still, after everything she had put them through and the abrupt way she ended their friendship, he sided with Peter and subsequently lost a friend. He figured it was for the best. He wasn’t as resentful as Peter was—his friendship with Y/N hadn’t been built in kindergarten—but he still didn’t appreciate her actions.

“Oh,” he nodded in understanding, “are you okay at least?”

“Yeah, but it did sorta ruin my mood,” Peter confessed. He was having a pretty good morning until his reflexes were put to the test. He woke up on the right side of the bed and had time to eat breakfast with May before she went to work. The walk towards the subway station was nice; he said hi to everyone he usually greeted and even got a muffin from the lady with the three-year-old daughter. Then the subway wasn’t as busy as it usually was, so he wasn’t squashed next to the man with the foul body odor and could actually sit down. All of that happiness came crashing down the second he saw her in her car, looking unapologetic for nearly killing him and then dismissing her sister for chastising her.

“Well, get happy, my arachnid friend, because I heard some exciting news,” Ned smiled, poking him on the arm as they walked to their first class.

“What?”

“You’re top of our class, which means you’re a shoo-in for valedictorian,” Ned said excitedly. Peter grinned at that. All of his hard work would finally be noticed and celebrated. He had been working on greeting his class for four years, doing extracurriculars, and taking on extra projects for grade boosts. Sometimes he even stayed after school to help his teachers grade papers or help the librarian sort the books back into their respective spots on the shelves. It would all be worth it in the end after he finally reached the goal he had set for himself his freshman year.

There was a snag in his plans. While he may have been top of his class, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be pushed from his place. Y/N Y/L/N was the smartest girl at Midtown. She was everything he wasn’t. She was popular—if the excessive amounts of clubs she was part of were any indication. She was social—everyone talked about the interactions they had with Midtown’s princess. She was everywhere, and nothing Peter was. She was the head of the planning committee, and everyone knew that any school party planned by Y/N Y/L/N never disappointed. Peter couldn’t compete. He found peace in knowing that he was slightly better than her at academics.

The two continued walking in silence, content with the atmosphere they had created after finding out that Peter would finally have something go his way for once. He figured it was the least the universe could do for him. He had lost both parents before he could make memories with them, then he lost his best friend, and then he got bitten by a spider that changed his life; for better or for worse, he didn’t know. Being valedictorian wouldn’t take away the hurt the world inflicted on him, but it would make him feel somewhat better.

With a skip in his step, he walked into class with a grin so large, he didn’t think anything could bring him down. Of course, he thought wrong. His English teacher had to make a day he felt he could turn around into one he wished would end faster.

“It’s about time you all had a project—the topic of discussion, poetry. You will be partnered up and tasked with reading and creating your own poems by the end of the month,” she paused, waiting for her class to stop looking at one another and whispering amongst themselves, “I’ve already chosen your partners, so it would do you all some good to stop getting your hopes up and listen.”

With that, the high schoolers shifted in their seats and gave their attention back to their teacher. She was good at pairing up students who were cordial with one another and worked well together. Friendships usually sparked from her partnering, sometimes even relationships. So Peter, and the rest of the class, weren’t as annoyed as they wanted to be. They knew she wouldn’t let them down. Peter waited eagerly as she listed off students who would be working together. He hoped he got paired up with someone who matched his work ethic or someone he got along with.

“Peter Parker, you will be with Y/N Y/L/N,” and just like that, he hated English class and lost all faith in his teacher. He looked across the room to where the said girl was seated. She was writing in her planner—Peter was sure she was planning Ms. Ingrid’s death—but she looked up when her name was called. She turned her head and met Peter’s eyes, unamused and bored. She shook her head and looked at her planner once again. Peter took that as a sign to do the same and focus on anything other than his rising anger.

Peter watched as everyone moved to meet their partners, many of them happily talking to one another. He was stubborn. He decided that if she wasn’t going to make an effort to push aside whatever hatred she had towards him and talk to him for the sake of their grades, he wasn’t going to. He was going to sit in his seat and read a poem from the packet his teacher had handed out. Just because he had a lousy partner didn’t mean his grade had to suffer. He would complete the project by himself if he had to.

“Mister Parker, last I checked, you were to be working with Miss Y/L/N,” Miss Ingrid quipped as she walked to Peter’s desk with a teasing smile.

“Actually, Miss, I was hoping I could talk to you about that?” He asked. He liked Miss Ingrid. She was understanding and compassionate, and she didn’t talk down to her students as if they were children.

“Something wrong, Peter?” she asked, concerned. Peter felt bad. He knew he was petty, and his favorite teacher didn’t need to be pulled down to his level. But he couldn’t bring himself to work with someone who didn’t want to work with him. That usually meant he was left to do the work by himself and watch the other person still get credit. It infuriated him so much he would rather do the project himself from the start.

“Yeah, um, I can’t work with Y/N,” he muttered, smiling at her with an embarrassed smile. Peter admitted it sounded stupid and childish when said aloud, but he had his reasons.

“And, pray tell, Peter, why not?”

“I just don’t think we would work well together,” he confessed. Seeing the look on her face, Peter was quick to defend himself more, “and I just don’t want to do the work for someone else and have them get credit for doing nothing. So, if it’s alright with you, Miss Ingrid, I would like to work on this on my own.” He was practically begging. Hoping she would agree.

“I’m sorry, Peter, but this is a partner project. To lessen the workload,” she sighed, “besides, I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Y/N; she’s very good at doing her share.” She stood up with those final words and tapped the table before standing up and sending him a smile. He sighed, putting his head down and looking at his desk in annoyance. He looked up when a book landed on his desk. Closing his eyes to keep himself from exploding at whoever shattered his tranquility, he was met with eyes he used to find joy looking into. Now, he never wanted to look into them ever again.

“We’re partners. I don’t like it, you don’t like it, but we have to do it otherwise, our grades will plummet, and you can’t afford that if you want to be valedictorian. So, we’re going to push our difference aside for this one project and do it, so we never have to talk to again,” she said curtly.

That left no room for argument, which caused Peter to nod his head in agreement. She was right; he couldn’t afford to lose the one thing he was looking forward to being. Sighing deeply, he motioned for her to sit down and opened the book she threw on his desk. She took a seat beside him and opened another poetry book, focusing on the words written on the paper and trying to plan their poem out. They had to get a good grade; she didn’t want him to blame her for something else.

Despite his annoyance and hatred towards her, he couldn’t help but glance up from the book he was reading. Of course, he had seen her around, it was hard to ignore one of the most known girls in the school, but he had never taken the time to admire her. His anger and betrayal kept him from doing so. She still had the same gleeful look in her eyes and the confident aura around her. Time had done her well. She had lost her kidlike features, and it was evident that she had matured. He would be a liar if he said she wasn’t pretty, and even that didn’t truly justify it.

When the bell signaled the end of class, Peter quickly grabbed his belongings and left the classroom. He didn’t stop to wait for anyone, much less Y/N. Their only interactions would be in the English room, a controlled space where she couldn’t kill him for so much as breathing in her direction. Walking towards his locker, he heard the noises of people as they navigated the busy halls of the school. Stopping at his locker with a sigh, he leaned his head on the cool metal. The day had been long, and he shrill had six other classes to go to.

A tap on his shoulder made him pick up his head. Y/N stood in front of him, bouncing on her feet as she played with her fingers.

“You left before I could ask when you can meet up. The faster we get this done, the faster we can stop being around one another,” she quipped. “I’m free on Friday after school.”

“I’m not. I have the Stark internship,”

She rolled her eyes at his response, “okay and? We need to get this done so we can go back to never speaking to each other. I’m sure Tony Stark will understand that you need to take one day off to do a school project.”

“Not happening. I don’t know if you know this, but you’re not worth losing the internship over,” he jibed. He missed the look of hurt that flashed on her face. She shook her head and scoffed.

“Well, we need to get this done. Either we work on this stupid project on Friday, or we’re both failing,” she reminded before walking away. Peter groaned and banged his head on the now open door. He ignored the looks he got from his locker neighbors and kept his head buried in the empty space. Friday’s were the days he went into the Avenger’s compound and actively worked in the lab with Tony after he finished his Spider-Man duties; the last thing he wanted to do was infect the compound with her hatred and bad vibes.

He didn’t want to invite her, but he had been working on something with Tony for the past two weeks that he needed to finish. He figured he could get some work done while someone gave her a tour around the facility—probably Steve. He was easy to convince—then he would work on the English project with her and beg father time to go faster. She was right; the quicker they finished their work, the faster he could go back to hating her. With another groan, he picked up his head and closed his locker, rushing after Y/N and grabbing her by the wrist when he caught her before she slipped into her next class.

“Friday. We’ll meet after school in the parking lot and go to the Avenger’s facility. You can drive, right?” she nodded and pulled her hand out of his grip, glaring at him.

“Don’t ever grab me like that again,” she sneered, “but fine, whatever. I have to drop Jules off at home first though, is that gonna be a problem, Peter?” He knew she wasn’t asking him.

“No, whatever,” she nodded curtly and walked in, not sparing him a glance. He shook his head and walked away. Anger seeped into his bones, and annoyance clouded his head. The following weeks were going to be torture. He just knew. There was nothing worse than being forced to work with someone the person despised.

“Hey, Penis Parker!” there are worse things, apparently. He breathed out through his nose and turned around, meeting his eyes. He knew if he ignored Flash, he wouldn’t give up. He was relentless, and his voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“What, Flash?” he ground out. Flash skidded to a stop beside him with a sick smile on his face.

“I heard from a little birdie that you were partnered up with Midtwon’s resident Princess,” he started.

“Yeah, so?” he questioned. He wanted out of the conversation as soon as possible. He didn’t want to talk to his bully about his enemy. That didn’t sound like a fun Tuesday.

“So, you can help me,”

“One, why would I help you with anything?” he questioned, “and two, I’m going to regret asking, but what could I possibly help you with?”

“Because I have something you might like, and you’re going to help me get Jules Y/L/N to go to the Fall Dance with me,” Peter paused in his step and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Okay, so what does that have to do with me being partners with Y/N? Can’t you just ask Jules?”

Flash snorted, “you’re an idiot, Parker. You don’t just ask the Jules Y/L/N out, okay? Everyone knows that Y/N tells her every negative thing about the guys at Midtown to keep her uninterested and that they’re always together.” He stated.

“I’m still not sure where I fall into this or what you could possibly offer me in return,”

“I’m glad you asked,” Peter rolled his eyes but continued listening, “if you can get Y/N to, I don’t know, fall in love with you so she eases off her ‘I hate the men at Midtown’ rhetoric, then I can swoop in and take Jules to the dance without a hitch.”

“And what do I get in return?”

“Two hundred bucks does wonders for the poor, no?” Flash snarked.

“Three hundred, and you’ve got yourself a deal, Eugene,” Peter smirked. Flash blinked in anger but nodded his head anyway, reaching his hand out and shaking it. Flash walked away and left Peter in the empty hallway, rethinking everything he had agreed to. It was cruel and harsh. Sure, Y/N had stopped being his friend and became a bitch towards him, but he would be playing with someone’s feelings. Then again, three hundred dollars could help May with the bills, and it would be retribution for all the shit Y/N had put him through.

He was going to do it, and he wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty for it. Because it was her, and she deserved to feel some of the pain she had put him through.

next

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taglist: @jackiehollanderr @multiholland @hommyy-tommy​ @visualhollands @wicked-starlight-collector @coni-martina @dummiesshort @nearlydanger9 @selenitawars @slytherinbth @misshale21 @y0ungandfuckingdumb @livinglifethroughfanfic @racheldon @popluckbih @ephemeral-limerences @tomshufflepuff @petersasteria @justafangirlduh @jayhlstead @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @savcks @sahi-raa @xeniarocks@hunnybunimdun @lou-la-lou @aussie-holland @parkerpeterparker2004 @adayasgeorgia @organicpurplepants @sadxaries @bagelofthelord @marlenetough @xxxxdelenaxxxx @racheldon @itsallyscorner @quaksonhehe @slutforsr @stillfindingmyway @determined-overthinker @chipot-lol @alwaaaysadream @tomsgf @thesunflowergirl @Heyitsmeyabitch2004 @noonelikesori @ bxby_riah @woopwoopwoop222 @marauders-whore @Sarcasticallywitty15 @cutesparker  @saraintherain @okaybestfriend @lehmehgeh @joyleenl (if your name is crossed out, its bc i couldnt tag you D: lmk if you want to be taken off the general masterlist or have any name changes ;D)

[jenoismydad]

Just Give In

pairing: jeno x reader

genre: smut; fem receiving, fingering, dirty talk, a very bratty reader, choking, marking, rough and unprotected sex

words: 2.5k+

warnings: none

A/N: lowercase intended. this has no paragraphs and its long so i’m just going to put the read more here. smut is right underneath it ;)

you tried pushing him off of you, but to no avail. he was just to strong for you, but you weren’t going to give in without a fight. you were more prideful than that. “such a fucking bitch. doesn’t even know when to stop.”, jeno grunted, teeth sinking into the skin of your neck. the whine that left your lips was more pleased than pained. jeno began rubbing his knee that was nudged between your thighs against your clothed core. fists balled on both your sides, you willed yourself not to make a noise, knowing too well that if you did, you’d have to put up with more of cocky jeno, which you’d already had quite enough of. “don’t hold yourself back y/n.”, jeno said, placing soft kisses along your jaw. “you’ll have a much better night if you just give him.” he merged his lips with yours, smirking as you failed to refrain yourself from kissing him back. his lips were just so addictive. every spot of your body he kissed felt like it had been lit on fire. he pulled away from you, hand discretely slipping inside your soaked panties. his fingers dipped inside your slit, brows raising as he felt just how aroused you were. “look at how wet you are for me. you’re really enjoying this aren’t you?” scoffing, you leaned against the wall, getting a grip on yourself before answering, “oh please, i haven’t fucked someone in ages. that’s just the lack of sex speaking.” jeno nodded, clearly not buying your reason. “well then, let’s make up for all the time you lost. how about that?” the offer he presented to you would have been appealing, giving that you didn’t loathe him as much as you did. you weren’t like every other girl on campus, trying oh so desperately to get into jeno’s pants because of the rumor that he was a god in bed. jeno didn’t like that. it was a dent to his pride. at some point, jeno used to be your friend. having grown up together in the same neighbourhood when younger. you’d seen his life become what it was today. you’d been present for his awkward phase, his saintly phase, his athletic phase and many many more. but you refused to stay for his fuckboy phase. at first, it really didn’t matter to you. it was jeno’s life, his sex life to be more precise and what he chose to do with it was none of your concern. somewhere you knew that girls would throw themselves at him left and right. puberty had hit him like a meteor after all. and it was fine at that. that is, until he started enforcing his sex appeal on you that it. it seemed he had finished sleeping with all the available girls and there was no one else left but you. obviously he never directly asked you to fuck, but you weren’t dumb and you knew perfectly well when a boy was trying to get in your pants. the fact that jeno was doing it angered you a lot. you thought you were a friend to him but apparently you were just another girl he could fuck to keep his fuckboy streak alive. it was sad really and this was exactly what drove you two apart. jeno however, was clueless that this was the reason behind your hatred for him and so, like the determined man he was, he never stopped trying. after months and months of chasing, he’d finally gotten what he wanted. “i would rather choke than have sex with you.”, you answered, resisting the pleasure that his skilled fingers were bringing you. “what if i choke you while i fuck you? that way we can both get what we want.” you wanted to slap that shit eating grin right off his face. did the fact that you’d shared the same diapers as babies mean nothing to him? his mom and dad were like second parents to you and the fact that you were even doing this with their son didn’t set right for you. he, on the other hand, was so shameless and it irked you greatly. “come on y/n we haven’t got all night. actually, no. we do. but still, i wouldn’t advise that you waste all our time like this.”, he said, now pushing his fingers into your walls. you moaned involuntarily. you weren’t lying when you said you hadn’t fucked in a long time. you were so sensitive that the slightest touch from him made your toes curl. “you know y/n you’re all talk. you say that you won’t do this or that but then you actually have the nerve to enjoy it. that’s not how its supposed to be.”, he said, adding another finger to the mix. your back arched off the wall, eyes shutting tight as he began pumping them in and out of you. jeno’s fingers felt so good. he was fingering you better than you could ever finger yourself. his long calloused digits curled upwards into you, eliciting elated moans from you. “do you like that?”, he asked, studying your pleasure filled face. “no i hate it.”, you muttered out, a contradictory moan following your words. “oh really? it doesn’t seem that way. you’re such a terrible liar y/n.”, he said, heightening the pace of his fingers. “i told you, it’s cause i haven’t had sex for so long.”, you retaliated. jeno entered at third finger into your now cramped hole. your eyes widened at the burning stretch and you instinctively pulled jeno’s body flush against yours. “look at you moaning like a slut and telling me you don’t like it. i know perfectly well how to deal with brats like you.”, he sneered, sucking dark marks on your skin. “i’m not a brat.”, you spat, attempting to push him off yourself for the second time. “you aren’t? why aren’t you giving in then?”, he asked, effortlessly resisting your pathetic pushes. “i don’t want to.” jeno’s hand slammed against the wall at your words, startling you. it seemed you’d finally flipped a switch. “well then i’ll make you.”, he said, determined as he hoisted you over his shoulder and threw you onto his bed. he tore your blouse off your body, its buttons scattering over the bed much to your dismay. you didn’t have a bra on and jeno was satisfied with that. your jeans came off next, panties following soon after until you were completely naked. “fuck you’re hot.”, jeno muttered under his breath. the urge to simply cut the bullshit and fuck you was eating away at his mind but there were other things he planned to do with you. “you said you don’t want to give in right? if you make a single noise i’m bending you over and fucking you senseless, no questions asked.”, he said, spreading your legs apart. he didn’t wait for you to answer, lips closing in around your clit. you bit your lip, squeezing your breasts. he nipped and sucked the sensitive nub, strong grip preventing your thighs from shutting together. his tongue entered your slit, collecting all your arousal hungrily. you tasted so fucking sweet and jeno was finding it harder and harder to control himself. you could say the same for yourself. his wet muscle was fucking you so good that you were seeing stars. you had already lost the challenge, your moans so loud and clear that his neighbours on the next floor could probably hear them. jeno didn’t care that you’d given up. he was too lost in you to remember his challenge at the moment. you could feel a knot forming in your stomach, a feeling you hadn’t felt in a very long time. “jeno i’m going to cum.”, you moaned, fisting his sheets in your hands. “no you’re not.”, he said, reluctantly coming away from your pussy. you whined in frustration, sitting up and staring at him angrily. “you aren’t cumming unless you give in. say you want it. say you want me to fuck you.”, he said, eyes boring into yours. your body screamed at you to say the words he wanted to hear but your mind told you not to comply so soon. you were torn between them both. “fine.”, you began, leaning back against his headboard. “if you won’t make me cum then i guess i’ll have to do it myself.” spreading your legs, your fingers came down to your aching clit and started rubbing fast circles onto it. jeno’s eyes widened at the sight. he was clearly caught off guard. his eyes stayed glued on your pussy, the way you touched yourself made him lick his lips longingly. he wanted to be the one making you moan like that. he wanted to be the one touching you like that. “fuck i’m going to cum jeno.”, you warned, head falling back as you felt your orgasm fast approaching. before you knew it, you were whisked onto your back. pinning your arms above your head, jeno pushed his cock into you without a warning. he had decided to put his pride aside for now and just do what he wanted to. who were you to complain though. his cock felt much better than your fingers. he didn’t even wait for you to adjust to his size, hips pounding into yours as soon as he’d entered you. you screamed, your senses clouding at how great he was fucking you. any shred of doubt that you previously had was now chucked out the window. nothing mattered to you now. you just wanted to cum and it had to be all over his dick. “why do you have to be so fucking stubborn all the damn time?”, jeno grunted. your tight walls were having quite the effect on him. he couldn’t think straight and was just letting his body take control. “if you hadn’t put up a fight we could’ve done this ages ago.”, jeno said, his tone slightly regretful. his words buzzed past your ears. your mind was a haze. although it was embarrassing for you to admit, you were dangerously close to cumming. but you didn’t want to warn jeno, in the fear that he’d steal another climax from you. “you’re close right?”, he asked, sensing the way your walls weakly clenched around his member. “i want you to cum all over my dick.”, he revealed. you were thankful for that and you did exactly as his said. your orgasm hit so strongly that everything stopped for a moment. for a second, you felt nothing and then everything crashed down onto you in an instant. back arching forward, you head fell back as a series of curses left you lips. jeno’s hips never ceased their speed. he fucked you through your high and once he was certain you’d come down from it, he easily flipped you around and shoved his cock into you from behind. the overstimulation made you squeal. jeno pushed your head down into the mattress as he buried his cock into your throbbing heat. “fuck y/n i’ve been waiting for this for so long. you don’t even know how bad i’ve wanted to fuck you.”, he groaned out, greedily fucking your heavenly walls. you moaned in response. “shit jeno you fuck me so nice.”, you praised, pushing your hips back to meet his. he collected you hair in his fist and yanked it back, bringing your head up. he leaned down over you, hips still rutting into you. “you don’t fucking deserve to feel nice you slut. you had me running after you like a fucking dog and then you have the audacity to keep playing games with me. you don’t deserve any of this.”, he muttered, wrapping his arm around your neck. “you said you’d rather choke then have sex with me so here you go.” jeno closed his hold around your throat, snickering at the way your moans muffled up. he fucked you relentlessly, painting your shoulder with red marks. he could feel your pulse against his palm along with the vibrations of your faint moans. he let go of your hair, instead bringing his hand to your waist to hold you in place as he chased his high. his hold around your neck loosened slightly, allowing you to moan freely. your pleasure filled voice was music to his ears and it only encouraged him to keep going, faster and harder. soon his fingers were digging into the skin of your ass. everything he was seeing, hearing and feeling was so hot. you were so hot and you were certainly better than any girl he had ever fucked before. save the best for the last they say. well jeno was sure that he was never fucking anyone else but you after this and that was final. everything about you was so fucking perfect. the soft moans of his name that came from you drove him insane with lust. fuck he’d never heard something so sweetly lewd in his life. lost in his thoughts and your pussy, he didn’t even realise when he hit his climax as his cum spurted out into your hole. he usually stayed away from cumming inside his partner, but this felt so damn nice. he bucked his hips into yours, emptying himself into you completely. he didn’t let go of you until he was certain that he’d filled you with every last drop of cum he had in him. “that was hot.”, you said as he pulled out of you, turning around on your back to face him. he stared at you, eyes raking over your naked body in awe. you were definitely a delight to the eyes. you pulled his covers over yourself sighing contently at the comforting warmth. “i could get used to this you know.”, he said, putting his pants on. he threw you a towel, sitting across you at the edge of his bed. “get used to what?”, you questioned, cleaning up his cum that was dripping out of your now sore pussy. “having you in my bed like this.”, he said, folding his arms. “don’t tell me you fell in love with me after one fuck.”, you said jokingly, putting a pillow under your head. “well i didn’t fall in love with you. but i did see what i was missing out on.”, he revealed. “what are you saying?” “have you ever thought about us y/n?”, he asked, ignoring your question. you shook your head. “no. not really. maybe once in middle school and once in highschool, but never after that.”, you shared. jeno nodded. “well i just gave it a thought and i don’t think it would be that bad.”, he said, laying down on his back. he was exhausted, you could tell from his voice. “are you seriously asking me out right now?” jeno chuckled at the situation himself. “yeah, maybe i am.”, he admitted. “you’re the only girl who i’ve ever genuinely had a crush on.” your cheeks reddened at his confession. “that’s cute.” jeno looked over at you. “so what do you say. will you give me a chance?” you contemplated the offer and shrugged. “i don’t think it would be too bad of an idea.” jeno smiled and sent you a thumbs up. “great. starting tomorrow you’re my girlfriend then.” you raised a brow. “why tomorrow.” he slung his arm over his eyes. “i’m too tired to have a girlfriend right now.”