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#i have written over 5k words for these assholes I need help!!
travelbystarlight · 1 year
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my hand slipped
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hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3
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Not So Secret.
carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - cursing.
written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.
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“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”
“Shut up.”
Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.
You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.
Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.
“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”
When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.
“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”
“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”
She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.
“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”
“Carmy will go with you!”
Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.
“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”
Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.
“You’re okay with me driving?”
“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”
You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.
“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”
He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.
He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.
A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.
From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.
Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.
You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.
He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.
“Carmy.”
“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”
You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.
“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”
He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.
“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”
He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.
“I think you know.”
“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.
He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.
“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”
You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.
“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”
“Who bet on you? And who against?”
“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”
“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”
He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.
“Kiss me, Carm.”
He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.
You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.
“You should get your eyes checked.”
He tries to process for a moment.
“Huh?”
“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”
He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.
When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.
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jeonsfrvr · 1 year
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shield : jjk (rmverse)
⇢ pairing: security guard!jungkook x bartender!reader ⇢ genre: fluff, romance, smut ⇢ word count: 18.6k ⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, lots of dirty talk it’s pretty filthy, a brief scene of harassment (it’s not graphic, no touching involved), spanking, hair pulling, jungkook has a big dick, jungkook is the cutest shyest boy to ever exist, reader and jk blush A LOT, jk in a leather jacket that’s about it ⇢ summary: An unfortunate, messy situation involving a drunk asshole not taking no for an answer prompts your boss to hire a new security guard to stay near, just for safe-keeping. When all you were expecting was a guy in his late thirties who couldn’t bother to smile, much less be friendly, you’re pleasantly surprised by the cute, rather shy guy whose job is to keep his eyes on you and protect you for five nights a week.
A/N: I am SOSOSOSO happy with this fic. I had so much fun writing it. This was written in a couple of days where I just sat for straight HOURS writing like,,,,5k words a sitting. I love this with my whole heart and I hope y’all do too. Please, let me know what you think, feedback is, as always, very much appreciated!
Banner was made by the wonderful angel @mikrokosm​ thank you sm baby!!! this looks so much better than the trashy one i made asjsksj
“I’m so sorry, Hobi,” you apologize for the nth time for the night, tone laced with an immense amount of guilt as you watch Seokjin dab the cloth to the corner of Hoseok’s mouth. Hoseok rolls his eyes and looks up at you with a raised brow.
“Why are-ow,” he hisses and jerks back and Seokjin only murmurs a quick apology before pulling him forward and warning him not to move anymore. “Why are you apologizing? How is this your fault exactly?”
“Well, I mean…” Your words trail off and you huff, crossing your arms and leaning back on a table behind you.
“He’s right, __. It’s not your fault that so many guys that come here are jerks,” Seokjin chips in, leaning away from Hoseok for a second to grab the alcohol to clean the newly formed cut near his mouth.
“Still,” you sigh, shuffling over to Hoseok and placing a hand on his shoulder. He smiles up at you gently, but winces the next second when Jin begins cleaning the cut. You sigh once again. “It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me.”
“Oh shut up, will you?” Hoseok groans. “I’ll just start going to the gym and bulk up for this shit,” he chuckles and you laugh along.
“Actually,” Jin pipes in, finally done with Hoseok and begins to tidy up, patting Hoseok’s arm as a signal that he could get up. He looks up at you. “That won’t be necessary,” he informs you with a smile. “After the last time this-” he pauses to gesture with his finger towards Hoseok, who’s inspecting the cut on his phone camera, referring to the last time Hoseok had intervened with a drunk customer who was getting too pushy with you and ended up with a similar cut on the other side of his face because the guy was just way bigger than him. “-happened, I talked to Yoongi.” Yoongi was the owner and Jin was close friends with him, and he entrusted Jin with managing the place and keep it under his supervision.
“I told that this was happening way too often and that we might need some help to keep things under control,” he stands up from his seat and Hoseok finally looks up at him inquisitively. “He told me to interview some people and bring someone to keep near the bar, watch over for you two.”
“Oh,” your eyebrows raise in interest. “I mean-”
“That’d be great, actually,” Hoseok is quick to intervene. He turns to you. “I’d be happy to take a beating any day for you, __. But my poor face can only take so much before it breaks,” he’s only half-joking, you’re sure of that.
You shake your head with a sympathetic smile and cup his cheeks gently. “I’m sorry,” you repeat with a pout before looking to Jin with a bright smile. “Thanks, Jin. We could use the help.”
Jin nods and informs you that he already has someone lined up for the job. “I’ll give him a call tomorrow so we can decide on when he would start.”
You go home that night, pout still slightly showing on your lips as you relive the events of the night. It always seemed that the creepy, perverted customers sat on your side of the bar, getting too comfortable and flirting with you through drunken slurs and winks. You could deal with the flirting, you were trained for it. You knew what kind of men walked into the bar, you simply ignored their usual attempts with a smile and poured their drinks, hoping the alcohol would soon enough inhibit their ability to speak and they would leave you alone.
But some were persistent, words much too vulgar for your liking, tone making your skin crawl, looking at you like you were a piece of meat parading around for their own viewing pleasure, some going as far as leaning over the counter and going for a grab at you. Those were the ones who caused situations like these, who caused scenes and fights and occasionally brought bruises to Hoseok’s pretty face before security could handle it.
You at least went to sleep that night slightly comforted by the fact that there would eventually be someone there to keep the situation under control from now on. You didn’t dwell on it too much, figuring he would be like the rest. The other security guys were mostly guys in their late thirties, bulked up and had intimidating faces that could put any riot down. You didn’t care much, just so long as they did their job right and allowed you to do yours right as well, without any disturbances.
+
Whatever you were expecting when you walked in a couple of nights later for the beginning of your shift, it was not that.
There, talking to Jin, stood a guy. A guy that was, if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the most attractive person you had seen in a long time, and your job allowed you to see too many faces for your liking every single night.
He was gorgeous.
Adorned in all-black attire, as simple as it might sound, it looked entirely too appealing on him. Long, wavy, dark hair covered his forehead and brushed over his eyes slightly. Black leather jacket thrown over his shoulders, it only hid a little bit of his physique. He was quite tall, and you could quite clearly see that he was built even from where you were stood.
“Ah, __!”
Your name is suddenly being called and the stranger’s eyes are now on you at that same moment. You make eye contact right then and you suddenly feel nervous. You were like that around a lot of people, but especially attractive ones. You’re quick to plaster on a smile and make your way over to the two men, trying hard not to stare too much at the handsome stranger whose gaze is still on you.
Jin places a hand on your shoulder the second you’re at arms distance and smiles at Jungkook. “This here is Jeon Jungkook. And he’s going to be your knight in shining armor, your savior, your-”
“I get it, Seokjin,” you chuckle at Jin’s over-exaggerated introduction and look to Jungkook with a polite smile. Based on Jin’s little show and the events that had occurred earlier this week in this very room, you can honestly guess that this would be the new security guy that Seokjin had informed you would be starting very soon.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook,” you stretch you arm out for a greeting and he takes it in his for a gentle handshake, allowing you to catch a glimpse of tattoos adorning his fist, traveling up his arm where his jacket sleeve rides up slightly with the movement.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” he smiles, a very charming smile at that, and you find yourself shaking his hand for too long to be considered normal before dropping your hand quickly with a chuckle, to which he continues to look at you with a curious look in his eyes.
God, he was cute.
“So, um,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet. “When do you start?”
“Tonight,” he immediately answers, stuffing both hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Hyung told me that you needed a hand around here and honestly,” he pauses with a chuckle. “I could use the pay.”
“Hobi will be thrilled to have you here tonight,” you half-joke and Jin laughs.
“She means Hoseok,” Jin tells Jungkook and Jungkook nods. “He’s supposed to come around in a bit. Poor guy always takes beatings for our pretty princess here-”
“Hey,” you whine when Jin lifts a hand to ruffle your hair. You push it away with a huff, sensing heat traveling to your cheeks due to being the center of attention at the moment, and it only deepens when you look to Jungkook and he seems to be staring at you, seemingly studying you as you stand there. It goes on for a moment and you can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with him because you seem to be blushing way too much for a simple first encounter with this guy and look to Jin, who’s staring on amusedly.
Saved by the sound of footsteps coming from behind before a loud greeting fills the room, Hoseok finally making his entrance with a bag swung over his shoulder, strutting over with a pretty smile and a healing cut on his cheek.
“Hello, princess,” Hoseok greets you and swings an arm around your shoulder. There goes that nickname again. Your eyes unintentionally flit up to Jungkook’s and his appear to be glued to Hoseok’s arm placed so casually on your shoulder, and the way you comfortably lean into him.
“Hey,” he directs his speech towards Jungkook with a polite smile, before looking questioningly towards Jin, awaiting a response.
“Jungkook, this is Hoseok,” Jin begins. Hoseok then releases your shoulder from his hold and half leans towards Jungkook with an outstretched arm as Jin continues. “He’ll be working with __. These are the only two pretty faces that you need to worry about, everything else is covered.”
“Oh?” Hoseok pauses with Jungkook’s hand still in his and turns to you with a shocked look, which then morphs into one of relief and happiness. “Oh, you’re Jungkook? Ah, welcome aboard,” Hoseok’s tone is excited and you hold back a chuckle as Jungkook just chuckles and murmurs a couple of  quiet ‘thanks’.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Hobi continues and leans back once again, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “But, um, I didn’t expect you to be this young.”
“He’s not that young,” Jin quickly interjects, shrugging. "He’s about __’s age I think,” Jin guesses and you both look at each other at the same time with hints of smiles at your lips.
“Plus,” Jin continues and places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder with a proud smile gracing his lips, resembling a proud father for some reason. “Our Jungkook here has a black belt in Taekwondo!”
Both yours and Hoseok’s gazes fixate on Jungkook, more impressed than anything and for a moment, his confidence seems to falter and he looks at the ground for a second with a shy smile and shifts his feet, adorned in large combat boots that add onto the irony of this tall man acting coy when being praised.
“So not only will he kick anyone’s ass,” Jin jokes. “It’ll be extra fun to watch.”
+
During the first week of Jungkook working here, you gather a bit of knowledge about him.
You learn that he takes his job seriously. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had kind of sensed that it would be that way since you first met him, and he only proved you right when his first shift arrived and you don’t think you saw his lips twitch up into a smile even once that night. The night passed without a glitch, his eyes gazing over every single drunk body that sat by the bar, or even just simply passed by. 
The following few nights went pretty much the same, albeit a bit slower since it wasn’t terribly busy during weekdays and you had some rare moments to breathe. You couldn’t help it; staring at him. He was just new and you were getting your eyes acquainted with the new handsome guy who happened to be the new security guard who stood in his spot not too far away, adjacent to one of the walls. Hands clasped in front of him, face devoid of any emotion, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the area.
It went like that for the first week, strictly work, not much interactions but friendly smiles when arriving for work and perhaps exchanging a couple of words before Hoseok would come join you two.
“So,” Seulgi, one of the servers and someone you would consider to be your friend her besides Hoseok, says as she leans against her now closed locker while you put your things away in yours before your shift starts. “New guy’s pretty good, huh?”
“I mean,” you tilt your head a little in thought. “Nothing’s really happened since he started-”
“I meant hot, new guy’s pretty hot,” she starts before you start getting into boring detail about analyzing how he does his job and you immediately chuckle.
“Thought you were hung up on Hoseok?” You tease as you shut your locker and turn to her with a smile and she immediately blushes before scoffing at you.
“Doesn’t mean I’m blind,” she retorts. “Besides, nothing’s happened so far probably because they’re all too busy ogling the new hot security guard, all genders included.”
“Yeah,” you agree with a sigh as you begin to make your way out with her trailing beside you. “He is pretty cute.”
Cute was an understatement. He was mesmerizing. You thought seeing him everyday for two weeks would’ve had you accustomed to his face by now but, again, it’s been two weeks and you still stumble over your words when you manage to bump into him as you step out of the locker room with Seulgi right behind you.
“Shit, sorry. Oh-” Your eyes lock with his and he’s just so close. When have you ever stuttered before? “I-I…Sorry, Jungkook.”
“It’s okay,” his tone is soft and he says it with a smile as he politely steps aside and allows you and your friend to pass by before he begins making his way to the back as well, and you really couldn’t help yourself from looking back at his retreating form down the hall.
“Oh, okay,” Seulgi says in an understanding tone. “I see what it is.”
“You see nothing,” you deadpan and turn to her with a bored glare. “You just stick to trying to get into Hobi’s pants and worry about your own problems-”
“Hey, how dare you- wait! Come back here right now!”
+
The following week takes a different turn with a switch of events.
Hoseok is usually the one in charge of locking up. After everyone clears out, it’s only you and him that stay till the very last moment as you help each other reorganize drinks back into their places and clean up for what feels like the thousandth time that night.
However, he comes to you before the beginning of your shift in the hallway with a pleading look on his face.
“It’s only for this week, I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t have to but Namjoon wants us to work on the mixtape so we can have it done by next week and leaving early can buy me an extra hour or two and-”
You cut his rambling off with a chuckle and bring your palms up to pinch at his cheeks, intentionally squeezing firmly.
“On one condition,” you raise your eyebrows and Hoseok already knows that you’ve agreed even if he doesn’t agree to your ‘condition’.
“You let me hear it as soon as it’s done,” you say, very seriously and Hoseok relaxes in your hold before pulling you into a hug.
“Thank you-”
“Oh, sorry.”
You hear a familiar voice once you’re fully enveloped in Hoseok’s arms and you don’t know why you pull away so hastily because nothing was even happening, but you look at Jungkook who stands there like he’s walked in on something that was going on.
“Jungkook,” his name slips out of your lips and you’re beginning to grow accustomed to it. And you like how it sounds coming from you, you’re beginning to realize. You smile awkwardly at him. “We were just…” You trail off, not really knowing what to say, and not really understanding why you were currently trying to explain to the guy who was, so far, nothing but a coworker of yours.
“Ah, it’s fine,” he excuses himself with a smile an says something about wanting to go out back before they were open because he wanted some fresh air. Hoseok shrugs and pats your shoulder and tells you that he needed to speak with Jin about something that you don’t quite focus on because you’re busy watching Jungkook walking away.
The night goes by rather fast, quick work, all smooth sailing so far.
Until he walks in.
Im Jaebum.
He visited quite frequently, every month or so, he would come either by himself or with a friend of his. He hasn’t done anything particularly bad, usually very tame and relaxed in comparison to other drunkards around here, but you knew from people who knew him that he wasn’t a very decent guy. And if that wasn’t anything to go buy, you didn’t feel very comfortable with the way he looked at you or the way he, at times, would lean slightly over the counter and brush a finger over your hand or wrist while he attempted to flirt you up.
You were usually very professional and ignored his attempts because, sadly, he was loaded (all scumbags are) and you weren’t going to deprive yourself of any tips. When you felt he was going too far, you would send Hoseok over to take over his side of the bar and tell him that he was being extra creepy tonight, and Hoseok would nod without hesitation.
Tonight didn’t seem to be looking too good the second you spotted Im Jaebum and not only one, not two, but three other guys who you only assumed to be his close friends with the way they all were laughing loudly together.
You huff and look to Hoseok with a gaze that said you were already done before they even got here, but quickly replace it with a smile as soon as they stand by your side of the bar and you splay both palms against the counter and direct your attention towards them.
“What can I get you tonight?”
You can’t really see it since you haven’t looked his way much this past night, but Jungkook’s eyes are glued on you. Well, not really just you, more so the group of loud, rambunctious men who just piled in a couple of minutes ago and are centered around you. He watches closely, gaze hardening with every passing second because Jungkook knew, he just knew when something didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right how, as his eyes laser focused on all four mean, their eyes seemed to be taking in every little move you made. His eyes flicker over to you and, from his past two weeks of working here and watching you (as discreetly as possible), he now knew how it looked like when you were uncomfortable. Eyes not lifting up once from the counter, lips rubbing together tightly and teeth occasionally pulling and gnawing at your bottom lip, smile not as wide as it usually is when you slide the drinks over to them.
Jungkook is a very attentive man, but that trait seems to have doubled when he started working here - started working with you.
He knew it was coming. Any second now. He could hear their loud laughter and the shameless comments he could catch every now and then when the music was low enough and he strained his hearing hard enough to make sense of them. His blood boiled. He just wanted you to look once his way, only once, and tell him to move. Do something. But you don’t. You continue to work and serve them round after round.
And so he takes it upon himself to take action when one of them reaches across the bar and grips your wrist when you place another drink in front of him. You freeze because he’s leaning forward to whisper something to you, something you know is not going to be in the least bit appropriate and is going to make you want to throw up whatever lunch you had this day. However, he doesn’t get close enough because someone is gripping his shoulder and pulling him back, and all the air that had been caught in your throat at his revolting touch is released in a gasp as you watch none other than Jungkook, face as stoic as ever, pull the smaller man up and off his bar stool.
“Excuse me, sir,” he speaks in a stern voice that you’re hearing for the first time since you met him, an incredible contrast to the soft and gentle tone he usually utters his words around you and everyone else around here.
“Please stay seated behind the bar,” he states. “And hands to yourself.”
You look at Jungkook and, despite maintaining a professional act and keeping his face neutral, his jaw is clenched tight and his nostrils are flaring. The men seem entirely too careless to that fact and they only bust out into laughter, seeming to think they own the place and that this mere inconvenience shouldn’t be enough to deter their fun for the night. One of them even pats Jungkook’s shoulder as he laughs and Jungkook’s tongue is pushing against his cheek, an angry tick of his.
“Ah, it’s all good,” Jaebum now replies with a smile that you can only describe as sleazy. “We’re all friends here, __ knows that. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”
“Yeah, buddy. Run along now, kid,” another man adds.
It happens all at once. Jaebum is once again leaning across the counter in an attempt to get close to you, while one of his friends reaches for Jungkook’s back in an attempt to lead him away from their group. That’s when Jungkook feels it serves right to touch at least one of them, and he chooses the closest target - the one with a hand on his back. Within seconds, Jungkook is stood behind the guy and he’s yelping out in pain as Jungkook twists his arm into position between his shoulder blades.
A fuss was starting to happen and you and Hoseok watched, a couple of bystanders watching as well. Jungkook’s stare pointed towards Jaebum.
“I suggest you leave here or I’ll escort you out myself, sir,” he says, and when Jaebum hesitates only for a second, Jungkook tightens his hold on the guy’s arm and twists it further and the guy grunts out a curse.
“Jesus fuck man, let’s just leave,” one of his other friends groans out, seemingly bored with all the action. “’s not like she’s worth it that much anyways.”
You hear that, and you know Jungkook does because the man he holds groans out in pain before he shoves him towards the door before turning to the rest with an expectant look. After all, Jin did give him permission to kick out anyone who he felt was gonna start up any fuss. Jin wasn’t all that about keep the loaded ones happy and keep your mouth shut type of policy; the place was already doing pretty well on its own, Jin would constantly assure as Yoongi would in turn assure him.
The group is kicked out and everything is back to normal. Hoseok is taking orders, crowd dispersing, drinks are being served and no one is so much as looking your way. All except for one person.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He’s leaning over the counter and speaking loudly so that you can hear him clearly. Despite this occurring many times in your line of work, and despite you constantly assuring yourself that you were used to it, you knew that you were lying to yourself and that there was always this small fear inside of you at the fact that it could happen again, and it left you a bit shaken up every time.
“Yeah,” you quickly nod in reply and shoot him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure?” He insists. There’s a look in his eyes. This was his job after all, though you didn’t expect him to be this concerned for your safety. You thought it was just about the general atmosphere and keeping assholes under control. But the way he was looking at you right now told you differently, large doe eyes watching you expectantly for any sign that you’re not feeling well.
Your heart stutters and you gulp.
“I’m okay,” you assure him. “Thank you, Jungkook.”
He only nods at you with a smile and slips away, between the crowd and back at his post where he stands against the wall as before. You continue to look, even as he catches you staring and holds your gaze for a second before shooting you a small smile. You barely catch it, dim lighting and all, but it’s the first of many that you receive from him.
That night, Jungkook stalls. He keeps stalling and stalling, waiting until he knows no one is left but you and Hoseok. He knows that the two of you are usually the last to leave for the night and he’s in the locker room getting his bag, waiting for the right moment just to make sure and feel at ease for the night. 
You and Hoseok are together, he thinks. With the way he’s so incredibly affectionate with you, constantly touching you and hugging you, so playful and comfortable with you. And then tonight, when he saw you two together in the hallway. Sure, you were just hugging, but it could imply that you two might have something going on. 
But what irked Jungkook the most was that Hoseok had made no move to intervene tonight with everything that was happening. Sure, Jungkook had it all under control, and sure it was technically Jungkook’s job to deal with it, but still. He couldn’t imagine himself being on the other side of the bar, standing there with you, and not jumping into action the second you almost dropped one of the drinks because of how uncomfortable you felt with those guys harassing you. You were always so composed, steady hands mixing drinks and handling glasses like they were mere feathers between your fingertips, but it only got slipper and messy when your head wasn’t in the right place. And Jungkook knew that because he watched.
Attentive, he was.
So yes, he waited and waited, and when he walked back out to see you all alone, ready to head back and get your things to call it a night, he’s relieved he stayed back because god - he doesn’t want you going back home alone this late at night. And he knows you don’t go by car because he always sees you walking in, so it’s either the bus or a lonely walk him, and his heart didn’t sit right with either of those.
“Oh, hey,” you greet him when you cross paths. You weren’t expecting him to still be here. Hoseok had long departed and you were behind the bar, cleaning up by yourself for the first time for the rest of the week. “I didn’t know anyone was still here.”
“Yeah, uh,” he stumbles for a moment. “Still here.” He doesn’t bother explaining, his mind can’t seem to conjure up any lies this late at night.
The place is quiet, such a contrast to how it usually is. No music, no drunker chatter, no glasses clinking - the silence was nice and despite the usual party atmosphere this place held, the silence somehow morphed it into a cozy one. Similar to Jungkook now stood in front of you, a complete and polar opposite to the sight you had witnessed merely hours ago. Long gone was the stoic stare and the harsh eyes, replaced with an innocent gaze and the hint of a smile as he stuck his hands in the pocket of his jacket. How he managed to switch and maintain both personas was beyond you.
“Are you going home alone?” He asks after a beat of silence, only realizing that that might have sounded just slightly wrong after he said it. “I mean, it’s really late…” He trails off while explaining, looking at you expectantly.
This is a first for you. It’s the first time that you’re chatting privately with Jungkook, absolutely no one around with nothing to distract you from your usual thoughts.
Tonight really did nothing to help with those thoughts, on the contrary, it only heightened them to the highest of extents. You already knew you were attracted to Jungkook, any person with a pair of eyes could see why that was apparent. But the way he acted tonight, the way he looked into your eyes, as if searching for any sign of discomfort, as if willing to do anything to erase those signs. The way he kept looking over at you, checking, sending smiles your way, somehow reassuring you of his presence - that he was there and that there was nothing to worry about.
And now, standing in front of you with that same look. Concern, worry, he wants your safety. He stayed behind to make sure of that. And that does things to your heart, and to your stomach because in the next second, you feel it flood to the hilt with colorful butterflies. It’s almost nauseating how you feel yourself simultaneously slowly and quickly gravitating towards him, towards the safety and warm that he seems to radiate just by standing there.
You snap out of it.
“Yeah,” you confirm. Your voice is low though, so you clear your throat and look up at him with an assuring smile and try again. “Yeah. I usually leave right on time for the last bus but since I’m closing up tonight, I’m gonna have to walk.”
“I can drive you, if you’d like?” He wastes no time to offer.
“No, really, it’s okay,” you wave it off with a nervous chuckle. “I walk home all the time, it’s no-”
“No, please,” he insists. “I can’t have you walking back home this late at night.”
It didn’t really take much more convincing than that, not like you could’ve argued at all when you could practically feel yourself melting at this short interaction that was taking place, an interaction that you had kinda been hoping for to happen and just now realized how much you wanted it to take place.
So he drives you home and the ride was quiet, not too awkward, but there wasn’t much talking anyways. He resorts to the next best thing and turns on some music to fix it, which you gladly appreciate because you relax into the passenger seat and allow yourself to enjoy the soft tunes after a long night of intense, blaring music that was drilled into your ears.
That was the first night of the week, and you expected it to be the last. However, you are oh so pleasantly surprised when the next day, Jungkook passes by you and Seulgi and greets you with more enthusiasm than usual, as opposed to the small head nod and shy smile he would usually direct towards the both of you.
“Hey, __.”
To which you shyly reply and turn to your friend with a slow puff of air that has her snickering at you.
That night he shows up in front of you the same way he did the night before, not really bothering to try and come up with an excuse as to why he was still here so late for the second time in a row. You’re wiping down the counter when you notice him standing there, bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hey, still here?” You ask once again.
“Yeah,” he shrugs. The thud of his boots is distinct in all the quiet as he steps closer to where you stand. “Are you nearly done?”
The way he asks it sends a shiver down your spine because he spoke it so casually, as if waiting for you to finish up so he can take you home was something he normally did. But you keep your back to him in hopes of him not witnessing your cheeks warming up and bite down a smile.
“Yeah, just a couple of minutes so I can grab my things.”
He waits for you near his car, where he usually parks, leaning against the door with a coy smile on his lips. His heart is racing and he stares at the entrance door excitedly, waiting for your figure to show up. Though something in the back of his mind plagues his thoughts since last night and he really couldn’t wait to figure it out. And when he finally figures out how to ask the question, he blurts it out.
“So, um, do you and Hoseok not usually leave together?”
His question is strange. It’s worded strangely and it’s very much out of nowhere. Your brows furrow in confusion.
“No, not really,” you answer slowly but surely, voice clear over the low hum of the engine. There still wasn’t any music in the car seeing as how you’d just taken off. “I usually leave much earlier than him, but he has this thing this week, so I’m kind of in charge of staying last.” 
You glance quickly at him. His brows are furrowed and his lips are slightly pursed. You don’t know what exactly he’s trying to analyze about your answer-
“I just assumed he would wait for you to finish,” he spoke his words slowly. “You know, so you could leave together.”
You turn to him with a baffled expression, still not comprehending why he would come to that analysis in the first place.
“You know,” he pauses to clear his throat. His grip tightens on the steering wheel. The car slows down as he takes a left turn. “Since you two are, um, together and all…”
His voice gets slightly lower towards the end of the sentence and you catch his eyes flicker over to your side of the car for a quick second to check for your reaction before they once again fixate on the road. His words finally register in your head and realization dawns on your and a million thoughts race through your head.
“Oh,” you let out a sound of understanding before your eyes widen and you’re hastily shaking your head. “Oh, no. No no,” you chuckle nervously. You don’t comprehend how many times you repeat the word no before you finally pause. “We’re not together. Hobi and I are just friends. We’re very close and all that, but there’s nothing like that. At all.”
You can’t help yourself from stressing over that fact, wanting to make it very clear that there was nothing between you and Hoseok. When you sneak a peak towards him, you can the see obvious traces of a smile threatening to break out but he’s biting at his inner cheeks and his lips to hide it, tattooed fingers now drumming against the steering wheel in what looks to you as a happy manner.
“Oh, okay,” he confirms with a nod of his head. “Cool. That’s good.”
He doesn’t realize he added that last part, it just slipped out. God, it felt like he could throw himself out of the car at that exact second if it weren’t for the sound of your shy giggle reaching his ears and elating his entire being. That’s when he allows himself to properly smile and chuckle himself before reaching over and turning on some music, the rest of the ride spent in comfortable silence for that night.
The following day Jungkook comes up to you before your shift and leans against the wall as he casually chats you up, something that hadn’t happened since he first started working here about a month ago. But you indulge him and try not to focus too much on how he seems to drift closer, standing closer to you, looming over your space. His eyes twinkle even in the dim lighting around you. You notice all his details. His smile was to die for. Eyes crinkling up, cheeks forming into a round shape that almost completely erased the usual defined shape of his face, always so sharp and clean cut. 
Later that night you find out what his laugh sounds like in the warmth of his car on the ride home, right after you tell him about that one time Hoseok had been teasing you all night about some old guy that never once parted from the bar, Hoseok designating him by the name of your ‘sugar daddy’. Until it was revealed later that night through a white napkin that was left behind by the man himself, a series of numbers scribbled on it, for the ‘cute boy who serves the best drinks in town ;)’.
He laughed loudly and you immediately took the chance to look, his nose scrunching up and his head thrown back, thankfully at a stop sign. It sounds to boisterous, like music to your ears, making you feel at complete ease as your lips curl up into a smile as well.
You once again mentally compare the image of him in the dim lighting of the bar; chest puffed out, arms crossed, scowl plastered on his face. Tattoos inked into his knuckles and forearms. Long earrings dangling from his ears. Everything suited him so well, with the way his long hair cascaded down his eyes and completed that strong and mysterious vibe he carried with him when he was so focused on doing his job right, not letting his guard down unless your eyes met his. That’s when he would falter for a mere second and he would send a tiny smile your way that had you blushing and turning the other way in a haste.
But the guy sat next to you in his car right now, laughing childishly and humming along to a song he had picked out, was so different. But you liked both sides. 
You liked both sides a lot.
+
You call Jin one morning with a sore throat, coughing and sneezing, unable to speak a few proper words without feeling like the scratch in your throat would bring you to your death. You inform him that you won’t be able to come in and he assures you that it’s fine and tells you to rest well, drink lots of water and lots of warm tea.
That night, up in your bed, unable to sleep because you can never usually sleep when you get sick, your phone vibrates and the sound of a text arriving brings you to tear your eyes away from your laptop. You’d decided you might as well re-watch the first season of Supernatural.
From: Unknown hey, it’s jungkook :) hope you don’t mind me getting your number from hoseok  [2:13 am]
You spring up from your lying position, and despite the pain and body ache that takes over, a familiar feeling of butterflies once again swarms your tummy and it’s the first nice feeling that you’ve experiences all day/
From: Jungkook ik it’s late and you’re probably asleep but i hope you’re taking care of yourself  [2:13 am]
You nibble on your bottom lip before deciding: to hell with dignity. You open the message only a few seconds later. He was typing, but the three bubbles disappear and you assume it’s because he saw that you had just opened his text when he wasn’t expecting for you to do that so late.
To: Jungkook hi jungkook, thanks for checking up on me :) just a bit tired is all [2:15 am]
From: Jungkook you’re still up ?? are you not feeling well?? [2:15 am]
The text comes nearly seconds after you send yours and you can’t help the smile the takes over your face. You feel stupid smiling at your phone like this but god he’s so sweet it’s killing you.
To: Jungkook a bit restless yeah..it’s okay. couldn’t buy medicine today so i’ll get some tomorrow and that’ll help me sleep a bit [2:!5 am]
This time he reads your message and waits. You stare at your phone, confused as you watch bubbles disappear and reappear on your phone screen. It’s exactly two minutes before you finally receive one.
From: Jungkook i can drop some off tomorrow at your place [2:17 am]
From: Jungkook if you’re comfortable with that [2:17 am]
From: Jungkook i can leave it at your door and you can just take it when you want [2:17 am]
You’re staring at your phone, shell-shocked, unable to fathom the words that you were reading. They came one after the other, and you could almost imagine him stuttering and spitting out phrases to make you more comfortable with the idea, like he did that first night when he offered to drive you home.
You take a deep breath and type out your response.
To: Jungkook you’d do that? [2:18 am]
His reply is immediate.
From: Jungkook of course [2:18 am]
The following morning, there’s a bag at your doorstep. Medicine, and several tupperwares filled with food. Your heart is melting, your head feels light with all the emotions you’re experiencing as you bring the bag inside, taking notice of a note that’s placed inside the bag.
these are jin-hyung’s recipe so i think they should be good if i followed all the steps right. enjoy and feel better :)
His handwriting suits him, you think. It’s cute.
+
The next time you see Jungkook, you surprise him, yourself, and Hoseok who happens to be a witness of the hug you envelope him in. It took a lot of pep-talk on your way here, but you managed to psyche yourself up just enough for you to actually go through with it. And, even more surprisingly, he’s only shocked for a moment before he willingly accepts your hug.
“Thanks for the medicine, Jungkook,” you pull away. You’re aware your face is extremely pink and that your voice is slightly shaky and you’re almost one hundred percent sure he could see your heart pumping through your chest, but you don’t really care because his cheeks are pink as well. “And for the food.”
“It was nothing,” he brushes it off with a timid chuckle as you step back and glance at Hoseok who’s trying very hard not to leave his jaw hanging on the floor. “You feel better now though, right?” He makes sure, in the same tone that now sounds familiar to you, laced with slight worry.
“Much,” you nod your head with a smile and his grin is back, bright as ever, full teeth on show.
“That’s all that matters then.”
+
You’re not responsible for closing up anymore and Hoseok shared his mixtape with you the day that it was finished.
Though you were free to leave earlier once again and could easily catch the bus back home, supposedly going back to your old routine, you step out and are caught by surprise when Jungkook is stood there, leaning on the wall adjacent to the entrance. 
He practically beams at you the moment he sees you and pushes himself off the wall as he shuffles over to you, boots scuffing over the pavement. He practically struts over and he looks like a god damn model with the way the wind ruffles his hair back, tight black turtleneck hugging his figure cozily but hidden due to the large jacket he had thrown on.
“You know I can just take the bus home again, right?” You tease with a smile but you begin to walk beside him nonetheless, making your way to his car. He nudges you with his elbow as you walk and look ahead.
“Just appreciate what I do for you,” he retorts.
The level of comfort and ease in which you both now chat and joke together has magnified over these past weeks, and you find yourself giggling shyly as he opens the passenger door for you to climb in. 
The ride is spent chatting as usual, you and Jungkook exchanging stories about drunkards and incidents occurring throughout the night. He wins tonight’s round with his story about the couple who kept trying to hit on this one guy, assuming they were trying to convince him to go home with them, until the guy’s girlfriend showed up and cursed the two out. You can’t imagine how he could’ve managed to keep a straight face with all of that unfolding in front of him.
You thank him for the ride, bid him farewell and he watches as you make your way up your apartment building, both of you smiling like idiots. Jungkook takes a second to collect himself, leaning his forehead against the steering wheel with a slow exhale of his breath before restarting the engine and driving away.
+
A week later. A full week of late nights driving you home, texting almost everyday, exchanging brief yet playful conversations at work, you practically feel like a schoolgirl. A schoolgirl who gets to see her cute crush almost everyday. You feel giddy and happy. You’re more active at work and you serve with a smile because you somehow always seem to eventually direct it towards the tall security guard who’s standing relatively near, eyes flickering towards you to throw you a quick wink that has Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows at you without Jungkook noticing.
One late night he parks his car by your apartment building and shuts off the engine, leaning back in his seat and looking at you. You unbuckle your seat belt but remain seated, not making any move to step out of the car just yet.
His fingers, as they usually do, are drumming against the steering wheel, and for a few seconds, that’s the only sound that resonates within the silence.
“So,” he begins. He starts a lot of sentences like that, you notice, but keep that to yourself and just stare at him expectantly. “Tomorrow’s off for you, right?”
“Yes,” you sigh in relief at the thought of not having to deal with people yelling different names of drinks your way. “Thank god for that.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles in agreement. He looks at you for a second and when he sees you looking he looks to the front once again, pursing his lips. “Anything planned?”
“Not really,” you answer with a shrug and continue to look at because you can sense where he was trying to go with this.
“Great, that’s…” He trails off. He huffs, annoyed with himself before he turns to you with pretty, charming eyes and a look that had you shifting in your seat with its intensity. “I can take the day off, too.”
It’s a statement but it sounded like a question all at the same time.
“And-” One hand leaves the steering wheel to ruffle his hair, pushing some strands back and behind his ear. “We can do something. Together.”
“Like-”
“Like a date,” he continues before you could say it, smiling hopefully at you, hoping that he never read any signs wrong. But he didn’t. He couldn’t have because you beam at him in the next second and he grins back, nose scrunch and all.
“I’d love that, Guk.”
Wow, that was the first time you called him anything but his full name and the shorter term never sounded better to his ears. You look so pretty to him. All cooped up in his car, smiling at him so sweetly and fingers twiddling shyly on your lap, eyes awaiting for his next words. You just look so sweet, so innocent in that moment, so captivating that he can’t help but just lean forward across the console and-
“Shit-” Just as he witnesses your eyes beginning to flutter shut once you realize what his intentions were, almost there, so close he was beginning to taste it, he felt himself being tugged back.
Of course he didn’t take his fucking seat-belt off.
A moment of silence is heard before you both start laughing hysterically at the ridiculous situation.
After you two are done, you maneuver freely and lean over to his side since you had bothered to take your seat-belt off and place a kiss right on the corner of his mouth, just shy from it being an actual kiss. Your allow your lips to linger for a second before pulling away, and you could swear he leaned forward just a bit as you did.
“Text me and we’ll pick a time for tomorrow, yeah?” You suggest as you open the passenger seat door. He licks his lips, having been so willing to kiss you at this moment, but he smiles and nods.
“Goodnight, __.”
+
He looks breathtaking to say the least and you more than appreciate the idea of witnessing him under the sunlight for the first time in months. He’s wearing an over-sized grey sweater, loose black jeans and the signature boots. He looks like a god, leaning back on his hands on the plaid blanket he’d packed with him. 
He nearly loses his breath when he first sees you. God, he knew you were gorgeous but the way you walked over to his car with an almost angelic smile gracing your features - how was he supposed to just not kiss you the second you were in his care? You usually wore jeans to work, but this. Where you trying to torture him? A skirt? 
He takes you on a picnic because, as he claims, I don’t think we’ve ever seen each other in proper sunlight before and I’ve been here for what - two or three months?
He and Jin go way back, he tells you after you find out that the meals and sandwiches he’d prepared had also been advised by Jin. He tells you that he was a family friend and that their parents knew each other very well. Jungkook’s parents didn’t live here, they lived abroad, and Jin’s parents were always after Jin to keep an eye on Jungkook and look after him.
And look after him he did. He introduced him to most his friends; Taehyung, Jimin and even Yoongi. He recommended him for a job at Taehyung’s tattoo shop since Jungkook was such a talented artist and he was responsible for the many designs displayed in Taehyung’s shop. He helped him find a place cheap and comfortable enough to live in. He’s encouraging him to let Taehyung teach him how to tattoo so he can make more money and maybe open up a place on his own. And he recommended him to Yoongi when they were talking about needing someone new around, highly praising him in front of his friend even though Yoongi already knew Jungkook personally.
He told you about it all and you listened carefully, taking it all in, watching the way he fiddled with the dangly piece of jewelry hanging from his ear as he spoke about all his friends, all of them older than him and how they shaped him into the man he is today. His experiences with them. Everything.
“Sorry,” he chuckles bashfully as he picks up a cherry and pops it into his mouth. He looks at you. “I was talking too much.”
“What? No,” you insist. You unconsciously shift closer to him on the blanket and your hand lands on the blanket right next to his as you lean on your side slightly. “I like listening.”
“I’m not much of a talker with new people,” he explains while looking at you. “I haven’t talked to anyone like this in a long time, actually,” he continues. He says that as soon as you feel a hand covering your own, fingers fiddling with yours.
You both look down at your hands and you feel your heart do flips when you flip your palm up beneath his and he intertwines your fingers with his.
“That was really cute,” you blurt out for some reason. Your cheeks are incredibly warm and pink, and so are the tips of your ears, but you can at least blame it on the sun this time, though you doubt that’s how he would analyze it.
You giggle, he chuckles. You both shift closer and closer until his nose is grazing yours. He tilts his head forward just a little and you can feel his lips graze yours. Your thoughts are clouded as you feel his warm breath hitting your face. His eyes are still open, albeit half-lidded, and he holds eye contact so intense it’s almost too much for you to handle. You gulp heavily.
“Guk.”
It’s the way you whisper his name that finally brings him to cover your lips with his, mouth gently coaxing yours to move along with his. He kisses you sensually, something you don’t expect from your first kiss, you expect him to be more careful and reserved, but you’re not complaining as he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and lifts a hand to your hair.
He kisses your breath away, mouth moving in a perfect pace, lips pecking yours gently several times before diving in for a deep kiss once again. His nose nudges yours, warmth washing over you as his fingers grip your hair very gently to bring you closer.
You hum in between kisses and he can’t help it. He can’t help but push closer. Your lips tasted heavenly, so sweet, so delicious, so addicting. He wanted more. He licks your lips and you willingly let him in. Tongue licking into your mouth, he increases pressure until you begin to lean back further and further until you’re lying flat against the blanket. Your lips part for a few seconds and Jungkook looks down at you, watches you breathe slightly heavily, hair splayed out beneath you, lips swollen with his kiss. He has half a mind to quickly check your surroundings, thankful that he’d picked a secluded spot behind a large tree, before he plants his mouth on yours once again.
He doesn’t put his weight on top of you and instead leans on one elbow placed strategically near your head, caging you in, leaning over you as he steals endless kisses from your already breathless mouth. His hand, inked with black tattoos, trails down your arm, fingertips subtly brushing over your skin and bringing goosebumps to its surface. It travels down until he reaches your hand that he takes in his larger one, bringing it up to pin it down next to your head, fingers intertwining with yours once again.
You hum into the kiss once again, basking in the way he feels around you. Almost completely covering you with his body, presence looming over yours and hiding you from the world. It feels nice and comforting and hot and sexy all at once. Your other hand itches to move, free from confinement, and you bring it up to his chest, solid yet pliant. Your fingers curl into a grip and you pull him closer to kiss you harder. God, you’ve never felt so much from just a single kiss.
“Mmm-__-” he mumbles in between heavy kisses. His usually mellow voice is deeper now, laced with desire that you’re just now witnessing for the first time. “Mhmph-baby…” He mutters for the second time, unable to hold himself back from biting into your pouty bottom lip when he felt your hand grip his hair for the first time.
The sound of kids, not too close yet not too far away suddenly brings you to your senses as your lips begin to slow down their pace, little by little until his mouth is barely just resting over yours, warm breaths continuing to mix together.
Your eyes peel open to find his already staring at you, studying your face up close for a couple of seconds. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl strands of hair around and around, his thumb strokes your hand that he still grips firmly before you both break out into smiles at how this had transpired. He tenderly pecks your lips twice before sitting up slightly, and you follow along, looking around to see if there was anyone too close nearby, relieved to see only three kids significantly far away from your spot.
You talk more. This time he listens while you speak. You spill all your details from dropping out of college because of too much pressure, too many past-due tuition fees, and not enough control over your life. He listens carefully all the while he appreciates your presence near him for the first time. He scoots closer as you talk about how hard that last year was for you, scoops your hand into his larger one as you rant about how Hoseok had been incredibly supportive in all the time you’ve known him. He plays with your hair and gently leans forward to kiss the top of your head when you tell him about not having a place to stay for a while, and Hoseok had so kindly offered his place for you. You talk and talk and he listens just as you did for him, getting gradually closer to you until he had you wrapped up in his arms once again, lying on the blanket and chatting quietly amongst yourselves, in your own little world.
+
Hoseok immediately takes notice because you just happen to be stepping out of Jungkook’s car for work after he had offered that he would drive you. As soon as he sees the two of you, his eyes light up as he saunters over with a bright smile.
“Ah, Jungkookie,” he nudges you and you only blush and roll your eyes at him, looking to Jungkook who chuckles but you can see the pink tint to his cheeks.
“Taking care of our princess is something you take very seriously, huh? I can see that,” Hoseok teases and you push him away with a groan as you practically stomp your way inside, only hearing Hoseok’s loud laugh echoing behind you.
+
The next date he takes you on is a week later and he simply takes you to dinner. You’re happy because after last time, sitting together and just talking, you were looking forward to be with him more. Alone.
He shocks you that night when he actually wears a black button up instead of his usual casual attire. He looked fucking hot. Sleeves rolled up, tattoos on show, hair actually combed back; your knees nearly buckled beneath you when you saw him leaning against his car as he waited for you to come down. He looked like the man of your dreams as he flashed you the biggest grin and opened the passenger door for you, but not before leaning down and planting a kiss on your cheek. 
He looked tall and big, bigger than usual for some reason, or maybe that was just because of the way he had you pressed up against the side of his car after parking by your apartment building after your date. Dinner went smoothly, as you expected. And you knew it would end with a goodnight kiss with the way he kept looking at your lips, stained pink with your favorite lipstick that had now made its way over to his lips that were just as pink and shiny as yours now.
“I really like kissing you,” he murmurs against your lips, repeatedly placing kiss after kiss to your breathless lips. You grab onto his broad shoulders, so large and wide they shielded you from the world behind him, from everything around you.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers before licking into your mouth and you hum, pleased with his deep, addictive kisses.
You part ways with flushed faces and dumb smiles, hair just slightly ruffled and messy from your embrace.
+
The next few dates feel like heaven. Being with him, near him, talking to him, it all added something to your life that you never aware you wanted. You never had a constant in your life, someone like this. Someone who would sigh over the phone and ask you why you’re still up so late but continue to entertain you nonetheless despite the scolding. Someone who reaches in the backseat and places a bag in your lap and tells you with a bashful tone that he had gotten you something, and that something turns out to pretty blue key chain in the shape of a cat because you had mentioned one time over the phone how you kept losing your keys and that having one would make them more noticeable. Someone who begins keeping an extra jacket or sweater in his car for you because the weather was getting colder and you haven’t begun wearing jackets yet so he had to do it himself. Someone who brought his charger with him to work because you always forgot to charge your phone and would complain about it on the way home. Someone who took care of you and tended to your needs so carefully.
+
It’s about a month later and everything was going perfect. He was perfect. You’ve never felt so comfortable, in sync, or safe with anyone before. Countless days and nights of talking on the phone, texting, drives home that some nights turned into later dinners at a nearby 24 hour diner, cute dates that your highschool self would gush and blush about.
It’s a slow night, not much going on. Hoseok was handling most of the drinks tonight though since you could feel a light headache forming and it was beginning to annoy you.
In walked Im Jaebum after months of not stepping foot in here back when Jungkook kicked him and his friends out. Your eyes immediately snap to Jungkook because you know he’s got his eyes on him already, and you’re right when you see his eyes follow Jaebum’s every move and step as he gets closer to the bar. He’s alone tonight, walking slowly but surely towards the bar stool at your end of the bar and plopping down without a word. His usual greasy smile isn’t there, his face is grim and quiet, but you figure that that’s a good thing and you walk over to get his order, and that’s all you get. No wink, no trashy compliment, and you feel slightly relieved at that.
Unfortunately, a small fight between two drunk guys broke out because - yes, you guessed it - one guy was flirting with the other’s girlfriend. Your headache got worse with all the loud music and the shouting and you walked over to Hoseok.
“Do you have some painkillers with you in the back?” You ask in his ear, and he’s quick to nod, looking at you with a worried expression, and you gesture to your head with a wince.
“They’re in the front pocket of my bag. Take some and get some air, I can handle it for a bit,” he ushers you away after you give him a grateful smile.
Jungkook enters once again after taking care of the two guys’ problem, eyes unconsciously seeking yours just because it was practically second nature for him by now. He’s staring at the bar, confused because for the first time, you’re not there, serving drinks with a smile. It’s only Hoseok up there and he scratches his head, pondering on where you would be right now.
Well, you had gone out back for a quick breather after taking some painkillers from where Hoseok had them stashed, enjoying the chilly night air in the ally that one of the backdoors led to. Just as you were about to push off the wall and make your way back inside because it didn’t sit right with you to sit out here while Hoseok did all the work, even though you knew he wouldn’t even mind you heading home right now, the door swings open and out he walks, eyes landing on your figure as if he knew you would be here.
“__,” he says, and the greasy smirk that you had been previously been so glad was nowhere to be seen on his face tonight, had once again made its presence known and you couldn’t be less pleased with that fact.
“What are you doing here?” You immediately question. “This door is for employees only-”
“Why do you think I’m here, __?” He asks as he steps closer and you immediately take a larger step back. This isn’t right. This is making your stomach feel queasy and you really want to leave right this second.
“I don’t know and I don’t wanna know,” you deadpan with a stern tone. “Now, excuse me, I have to go back to work-”
“Wait,” he stretches an arm out and steps sideways before you could reach the door and you immediately back away from him. “You know why I’m here, __. Come on, can we stop playing games?”
“Excuse me?” You ask in a genuinely confused tone. Games? What games? This man doesn’t even know you. Does he really think you’re playing games with him?
“You think I come to this shit place because I just like it here?” He steps closer and you once again step back, looking at the door behind him, mentally planning how you’re about to push him out of the way and make your way back inside. “You I would come here if it weren’t for the hot bartender who’s trying to play hard to get with me?”
“God, you’re such a piece of shit-” 
You’re just about to push him and maybe knee him in the dick before the door behind the two of you to reveal a - a seething Jungkook.
If it weren’t for the fight that had broken out just prior to you leaving, Jungkook would’ve seen Jaebum watch you walk away and get up a couple of minutes later and you wouldn’t have had to exchange a single word with him, but it just so happened that he had been distracted. However, it only took him a couple of minutes to finally notice that the man he’d previously been watching the most the entire night wasn’t in the place he was seated at, and he couldn’t have moved faster as he began his search for you. With each passing second, his breath got heavier, his hands clenched into rock hard fists as if ready to punch the man any second now. He was practically seeing red by the time he reached the back door, his last resort.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Jaebum is practically lifted off the ground when Jungkook grabs him by his clothes and pushes him back. You watch, eyes wide, as the usually shy and relaxed guy who blushed everytime Hoseok teased him about him just getting this job to stare at you all night, who was mentally psyching himself up before asking you out for the first time that one night, who twirled strands of your hair around his finger oh so delicately when you would at times stay a couple of minutes in his car to chat, that same guy was growling at the man who appeared to be smaller than him with the way Jungkook was crowding into his space.
For some odd reason, any previous thoughts of Jaebum were completely erased from your mind, wiped out. And all you could think about was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who you absolutely adored, who was now on the verge of beating up this prick for you, and who looked fucking hot while doing it.
“Do you just go around harassing women? Is that how you waste your worthless time?” Jungkook shakes him as he practically yells those words at him before pushing him aggressively into the cold wall behind him. He stumbles and catches himself before falling.
You’re silent before you look at Jungkook and he looks back at you, fire inside his eyes more tame now as he tries to detect any damage that was done even though he got here before Jaebum could even consider getting close to you. He steps towards you and cups your face, about to say something before he gets interrupted.
“Fuck you, man. And fuck her. I don’t want a stuck up bitch like that anyways-”
Jungkook’s eyes flash at the first word that meets his ears, jaw ticking, brows furrowed in annoyance because clearly just shaking him up a little bit wasn’t enough, and before he could utter another word, Jungkook lands a solid punch to his cheeks that shuts him right up. You gasp in surprise.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Jungkook spits at him. “If I ever see you around here, or around her ever again, I’ll knock your teeth out.”
You reach for his hand and pull him towards the door, and he keeps looking at the guy who’s stumbling away into the alley until the door is finally closed and his eyes travel to you.
“He didn’t touch you, did he? You’re okay? If he did I swear I’ll go back out there and-”
“I’m fine,” you assure and cup his faced between your palms to calm him down. You bring his face close to yours and lock eyes with him. His breathing is a bit heavy and his fists are still clenched, so you release his face in favor of holding them in your smaller ones, unfurling the tight grip and intertwining your fingers with his. Visibly relaxing at being so close to you, he sighs heavily and leans forward a bit more to nudge your nose with his.
“I’m fine,” you repeat once again, voice lower. “And I’m glad you’re here.”
The way you say it, it could be perceived in referring both to the current situation, and just having him here in general. And he knows that.
“I’ll always be here,” he murmurs and can’t help but press a kiss to your lips, one that, for some reason tonight, immediately ignites a fiery fire of need inside you. You don’t know why, it could be because you’ve been wanting this since the first time you tasted his lips, it could be the fact that he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes one, or it could be because your boyfriend was the sweetest man and he treated you with so much care that your body ached for more of his attention; a different kind of care and attention.
+
It was almost closing time anyway, you think to yourself as you climbed across the console and situated yourself to straddle him the second he shut off the engine, a position you’d been in before. 
You’ll explain to Hoseok later, you think to yourself, fingers digging into his hair as he kissed down your neck and collarbones, large palms running up and down your back. 
Hoseok will definitely understand the situation, you think to yourself as your head falls back and your eyes flutter shut when he begins to suck and nibble on the column of your neck, mouthing at your throat and covering your skin in heated kisses as his strong arms wrapped around your torso and pressed your smaller frame up against his large one.
“Guk,” you whisper, dazed and breathy. He hums against your skin. Your hips push down, something you very rarely go as far as to do, but you can’t stop yourself. You want this. You want him so bad. He groans into your neck.
“Stop, stop,” you mumble, pushing weakly at his chest, to which he immediately complies. Lips parted, hair ruffled and falling over his eyes in the sexiest way, he looks up at you.
“Do you wanna come upstairs?”
Your apartment is dark but you don’t care enough to turn on any lights as you stumble in, lips locked and bodies intertwined. He pushes you up against the nearest wall, pressing his body up against yours, trapping you against him as he pulls away for a second.
“Where’s your bedroom, baby?” He asks but he’s already once again distracted with planting hot kisses down your neck, hands moving down your body, rough hands gaining confidence as you push closer to him and respond to his subtle touches.
“Down the hall,” you gasp when he bites into your skin. “Door on the left.”
You reach there in record time before he finally loses patience and grips your thighs at the door, signaling you to hold onto him. Muscles tensing, he lifts you up and carries you the rest of the way all the while you feel yourself getting warm at his show of strength.
He places you down on the mattress gently before he slips of his jacket and throws it away somewhere, not bothering to aim where it lands because his eyes are fixated on the way you scoot back on the bed and await for him to join you. And join you, he does, climbing up the bed and over your body, eyes dark and strands of hair cascading down his face, a hungry expression written all over his face. 
He doesn’t kiss you. His arms, you can see them bulging through your peripheral vision, hold him up above you as he stares down at the way you’re sprawled out beneath him. Your shirt is riding up slightly, some bare skin revealed to his dark eyes. Your chest moves up and down with each deep breath you take in.Your dainty hands are fiddling with the hem of his shirt, eyes blinking up at him as you anxiously await his next move.
“Pretty,” he comments and brings one hand to brush back some hair before burying his hand in your hair and gripping firmly to expose your neck to him. You gasp out, enjoying the pressure you feel in your skull and he takes notice, chuckling lowly before kissing down your neck and collarbones.
“I wanna make you feel good, baby,” he groans into your skin. One of his hands goes down to your hip and bunches the shirt up in his palm, and the skin burns in the best way where he brushes against you. His knees gently nudge your legs apart to settle further between your thighs and you willingly allow him more room, hands reaching for his back and scrunching up the material between your fingers.
“Wanna make you moan,” he whispers. Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers gingerly push your shirt further and further up until it reached just below your breasts. The tips of his fingers brush against the bottom of your bra and your arch your back, craving more than the gentle touches he’s currently giving you. He gets the hint and lifts the shirt up until your bra clad breasts are exposed to him and he continues kissing down your collarbone to litter your kisses to the newly exposed skin.
“Yes,” you gasp, giving him the okay.
“Make you scream,” he continues. With a slip of his finger, he brings one of the cups down and takes your nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with attention and running his tongue over it until it hardened completely.
“Yes, Guk,” you whimper. The hand still placed in your hair seems to tighten at the sound of his name.
“Even the sounds you make are pretty,” he chuckles against your breast, hot breath hitting your skin with every word. You flush at his compliments, but you don’t have much time to be shy about it before he pulls away from you to sit up on his knees between your legs. Large palms stroke your thighs, warming them up with his touch. He looks into your eyes as he does this, mouth curled up at one side, the most devilish smile as he reaches for the hem of your pants and fiddles with the button there.
“You sure about this, baby?” He asks, eyes trailing up and down your body hungrily, biting his lip. The sight has you even more excited. “I can be a bit…intense.”
Your core heats at the implications of what that could mean and god you wanna find out. You find yourself nodding eagerly, hips lifting a bit to show your approval.
“I am,” you assure.
Before you knew it, your pants were being tugged off your legs as you sat back against the pillows, legs spread for him. Panties still on, you placed a hand on his when he made a move to remove them as well causing him to look up at you.
“Can you take your shirt off?” You ask a bit shyly, to which he chuckles and shakes his head at you.
You never thought someone could look so sexy taking their shirt off, but the second he reached for his back to tug it off, you knew you were done for. The material slid off so smoothly and effortlessly, caressing the golden skin that was being exposed inch by inch, looking so soft and warm to the touch. It ruffled his hair and got it all messy when it reached his head, before it was completely off and he threw it away. The muscles in his torso rippled with every move he made, sculpted so beautifully you were mesmerized with every little dip and bump his torso had. What caught your eye the most were the several tattoos inked across his right arm and shoulder.
He was absolutely gorgeous.
You took him all in and couldn’t help but reach to touch him, and he leans forward to allow your fingertips to glide across his chest and up his shoulders, while his hands get busy lifting up your own shirt that was still half way up.
You let him take your shirt off in a daze, still entranced with his body because he just seemed so…large. He was pretty buff, you already knew that, but now with the way he was leaning over you and trailing one hand down your abdomen to your panties, staring you down with almost black with lust eyes, he seemed fucking huge.
Arousal gathered in your panties at the thought.
You didn’t really know why. This didn’t usually get you this worked up. Maybe it was the events of tonight, or the events of the past couple of months, of Jeon Jungkook being the most gentlemanly any man could ever be while still having the ability to flip the switch and snap someone in two if he wanted to. 
Or maybe it simply was the fact that you were attracted to him on so many different levels. Aside from the fact that Jungkook appeared to be a man sculpted like gods, from the top of his head all the way down to his toes, the past few months with him had been nothing short of surreal. From the little things that showed how much he looked after you, down to the way he kissed you so lovingly every single time, as if pouring out his emotions to you with the way he did it.
“Fuck,” you pant out when he slips his hand beneath your panties and gathers your wetness on his fingers. You press your lips together as his fingers begin exploring.
“So wet already,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cleavage before hastily making his way down your body. He looks up at you for a beat, removing his hand from your panties before gripping both sides and slowly sliding the material down until they reached your ankles, where you kick them away at once.
Shuffling can be heard as he situates himself between your legs and you spread them open for him. You don’t dare look down as you expose yourself to him, opting to stare up at the white ceiling, but you hear a pleased sound coming from down there before short kisses are being littered all across your inner thighs. You continue to stare up, breathing pace increasing, faster with each second as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin, getting closer to your growing wetness with each peck.
“How do you like it?” The question is muffled into your skin. He kisses your lips once, gently, as if he was kissing any other more innocent part of you.
“Hmm?” You hum distractedly, looking down questioningly.
“How do you like it, baby?” He repeats the question and kisses your pussy once more, and your breath hitches as he makes eye contact. His tongue slithers out for a swift lick. “Fast? Slow?” He licks a long stripe up your lips and you shutter, fingers already gripping the sheets to ready yourself. “Messy?”
“Jungkook,” you gasp because he’s already licking into you and humming in satisfaction.
“You better tell me before I just go with whatever I want,” he warns jokingly. He shifts slightly and situates himself better, elbows digging into the the mattress. 
“I-I like it fast,” you breathe out because he’s already mouthing at your center. “And m-messy-shit-”
He delivers what you request without hesitation, tongue beginning to lave at your wet hole, creating a kind of friction that you immediately begin to tense up at. You gasp at the ceiling. Tongue wiggling and lapping at every drop of your essence, you think you can hear him breathe you in deeply and it causes more of your wetness to gush out. It’s incredible, you didn’t expect the onslaught of sensations you were currently experiencing to come so fast, but he already has you building up a sweat with the way he stiffens his tongue and pokes at your hole.
“Shit-J-Jungkook I-” you whimper. He hums right into your pussy. Sloppy noises of sucking and licking travel through the air and if anyone were to hear, they would probably be turned off but you feel anything but. The way he opens his mouth and spreads your lips with two sets of fingers either side to open you up for him. The heat of his mouth fully encasing you, sucking and flicking his tongue at your clit. It breaks your voice and your eyes roll back as your back arches.
“Oh god fuck! Jungkook! Jungkook!” His name is repeated several times, broken little cries and small whimpers reaching his ears. His palms are stroking your thighs, moving higher and higher up and past your tummy. “Oh-oh god!”
His palms reach your breasts and he takes them in his hands, kneading and squeezing. Your head digs into the mattress and your back arches into his touch. Sweat beads build at your temples and you feel so hot all over, like you’re going to explode, most of the heat centered at your core where Jungkook is suddenly moving his head side to side, tongue movement switching up. “F-fuck. Fuckfuckfuck-”
Fingers squeeze at your breasts harder. “Take it-hmph-off.” He’s spewing the words into your cunt and you almost don’t hear them but he pats your chest twice, too busy eating you up to focus on taking it off himself. Hastily, with shaky hands. your lift your back and yank the restraining material, sensitive nipples now exposed to his deft fingers.
You look down and whimper weakly at the sight. Hair falling over his face, tongue pressed into your wetness and full lips sucking your clit into his mouth. “Oh god! Like that-”
“Like that?” He repeats and sucks again.
“Yes! Yes yes yes-” You cry out repeatedly.
His tongue stiffens again and he wiggles it inside your pussy. You gasp, choked moan escaping your lips. Shocks of pleasure shoot through you. Your fingers scramble to grip at the messy sheets.
“Ngh-I’m-I’m gonna-”
“Cum.” He says one word. Both hands leave your breasts and shoot down to your ass, gripping the flesh tightly and bring you closer to his mouth, widening it until he covers your entire pussy and sucks noisily, slurping up your wetness.
“Fuck! Fuck Jung-Jungkook I-oh god I’m gonna-oh! Oh don’t stop!” You’re spewing out so many random words, high pitched and sounding the filthiest you’ve ever felt, body buzzing with so much pleasure and ecstasy as you feel your orgasm overtake you. “Don’tstop-please please please Jungkook-” His name is whined out and he enjoys your sounds more than anything, licking you through your orgasm until your body twitches and you weak fingers push at him weakly.
“Guk,” you whimper.
He doesn’t stop.
“Shit Guk,” you whine again and he pulls away. His mouth and chin are soaked, cheeks flushed, hair slightly damp with sweat and strands falling across his face.
“Fuck,” he whispers, staring at you for a second, looking completely fucked out and he hasn’t even pulled his cock out yet. Your chest is heaving and your eyes are droopy and - you look absolutely fuckable.
His movements are a blue in front of your eyes, but you watch hazily as he leans back and slips off his boxers, his eyes never once leaving you. They travel up and down your body, sweaty and flushed, legs spread and exposed for him, and he’s already planning in his head all the different ways he wants to have his ways with you if you let him.
Your gasp can be heard clearly in the quiet of the room, and his eyes shoot up to catch what you’re so surprised about, and true to his assumption, your eyes are glued to his cock that’s now wrapped in his slender fingers. He feels something swell in his core, and he doesn’t know if it’s pride at the way you’re taking him in with a mouth agape and flushed cheeks.
A trickle of wetness, you feel it building up and slipping out as you stare unabashedly.
It’s pretty. You’ve never described a dick as pretty, but it really was. Oh, and it was big. Big would be an understatement, it was huge. It made even his enormous hands look normal sized, even smaller maybe. Long, thick and curved at the tip. That little curve had your pussy clenching, and you’re gulping down a whimper harshly. The sight of him kneeling there is so erotic, and to make things worse, as if he knows your body was a bit too much for you to handle or comprehend, he raises a muscly arm and pushes his hair back from his face and looks at you with the most seductive look you’ve ever been subjected to, cock still in hand as he utters his next words.
“You gonna let me fuck you now, baby?” His voice is a bit hoarse, deeper than before, tone laced with pure desire.
You nod, legs spreading even wider than they already were, bottom lip pulled back beneath your teeth. He chuckles and leans forward, hand abandoning his cock and coming to rest beside your head as he leans over top of your body, face now right above yours.
“Words, baby,” he tells you. The other hand trails up your body, from your thigh, to your abdomen, to your breasts where he grazes his nail against your nipple, and the skin immediately pebbles up at the sultry touch. “You need to tell me what you want,” he squeezes your nipple ever so slightly before he releases it, continuing his path up and resting an open palm over your chest, across your collarbones, fingers laying right at the base of your neck. “What you like.” It’s not really a squeeze, but you feel the smallest bit of pressure there and you immediately gasp, thighs clenching but being blocked by his large build, and he notices your reaction. His hand slithers further up until his fingertips tap at your mouth, eyes locked with yours, eyebrows twitching up and lips curling into a sinister smile. “Just need you to tell me, baby.”
He watches, satisfied as you part your lips for his fingers to enter, and he slithers in two.  Knuckle deep, your flick your tongue over the digits and coat them with your spit as you would his pretty cock, and his cock twitches at the filthy act. You suck and wrap your lips around them, doing the most, and he slides them further inside your mouth, lips parting slightly as his breath got heavy at the sight. You kept looking at him the entire time, eyes blinking up at him to take in his every reaction.
“Jesus, __,” he groans. He slips them out and attacks your mouth with a hungry kiss, hand slipping between your bodies and going straight for your pussy. You squeal into his mouth and his tongue immediately slides in as his now soaked fingers fuck into you.
“Hmph-Jungkook!” His name is muffled as his fingers begin thrusting in and out, not giving you a second to breathe properly, mouth ravishing yours with kisses so deep it felt like he was trying to swallow you whole. Hands reaching for his back and shoulders, hips writhing beneath the strength of his body, your head pushes back and away from his mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips and it only breaks when he licks his lips hungrily at the sight of you.
“Yeah?” He moves his fingers harder and your body jolts. “Like that? Tell me, baby.”
“Yes! Yeah,” you whine. Your body thrashes and your head turns to the side as you gasp and pant. He can’t help it, leaning in and running his nose all across your neck and up to your cheeks, teeth nipping at whatever skin he can reach. He can’t get enough of you and you can hear it in the way he breathes heavily and groans out your name.
“Your pussy’s so wet, baby,” he grunts, going faster and faster. “Will you let me fuck you? Will you let me fuck you hard?” He’s groaning but it also sounds like he’s begging, desperate for you to allow him to take you like he wants.
“Yes! Y-yes! Jung-Jungkook pleaseplease-” Your voice is high and it sounds like you’re squealing and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when he finally has his cock buried in your cunt. “Jungkook! Ohgod fuck me-”
His fingers leave you and he’s lifting his body up from yours, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you. But he’s situating himself between your thighs once again and looking up at you with a wink, and for a second you’re about to question his intentions when he purses his lips and allows a trail of spit to cover your pussy, and the second it connects with you, you’re moaning out loudly.
“You said you liked it messy,” he explain deviously, knees now placed beneath your ass as he finally begins lining his cock up with your entrance. You’re quick to look down, entranced by the sight of the large head rubbing up and down your wetness mixed with his spit, a shiny sheet now coating the sensitive skin. You press your lips together, head spinning with excitement and slight nervousness because it looks so fucking big now that you see it there.
“If I go too fast,” he warns, tip now slowly pushing in. “Or too rough,” his tone is a bit more breathy now, choked back. “You have to tell me.”
You gasp, nodding hastily, but you can’t imagine ever telling him to stop. Nothing he’s done so far has felt too much for you, and you can’t imagine anything involving him not feeling good for you, especially with the way his cock now feels gliding inside you and slowly making you feel full.
“I don’t wanna hurt you, __,” he grunts, halfway in. He’s biting at his lip, brows furrowed, tonguing pushing against his cheek. He takes a deep breath and looks up at you, hands now gripping your thighs, pausing his hips from moving further. “You have to tell me-”
“Jungkook,” you whine, hips bucking and both your moans resonate into the atmosphere as he buckles over, hands releasing your thighs in favor of holding himself up, fists clenched so tightly his veins started popping as they dug into the mattress either side of your torso. He huffs, dark eyes looking up at you through hooded lids, an almost predatory gaze hiding somewhere in there. He looked intimidating but in the best way possible, and you found yourself rolling your hips again. The furrow in his brows gets deeper.
“I don’t want you to hold back,” you plead. “Fuck me. Hard.” You stress on the last word with a whine. The chuckle that leaves his lips almost sounds dark in a way-
“Fuck,” you heave, breath knocked out of you when he pulls his hips back and thrusts back in, not even all the way, but it still has you struggling to breathe.
“You like it rough?” He grunts through heavy breaths, sliding in further and further until you were completely connected and his abdomen connected with yours.
“Ye-fuck!” You squeal out. Hips pulling back and slamming back in, he watches with ravenous eyes the way you tremble beneath him. He does it again, and again, and again, slowly and pausing between each thrust, but each one just as hard the previous.
“I-I-” You stutter out but can’t manage to formulate a single thought because his pace suddenly picks up and you’re left with no resort but to pant and moan out your pleasure. He’d prepped you so well his cock moved inside you so easily, your wetness coating him so nicely, and he only felt you getting wetter every time he filled you to the brim.
“You want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you, baby.” He’s sitting back on his haunches, powerful thighs supporting yours, before he sets a brutal pace that brings a loud yelp to escape you, It feels so intense, the way he bucks skillful hips into yours and slams into you so hard it feels like it would border on painful, but it doesn’t. It felt so good. 
He fulfills his promise. Moans, whimpers, squeals, all sorts of pleasured sounds leave your lips repeatedly. His cock reaches so deep inside you one second, and he’s pulling all the way out in the next before once again repeating the motions. “Ngh-Jungkook. Jungkook! Fuck-”
“Oh fuck baby,” he moans loudly and it sounds so beautiful you want to hear it over and over again. You look up at the sweaty man above you, looking like the most sinful vision. His hair is wet now, a couple of strands dripping with sweat, droplets trailing down his temple, some down his jaw and jaw. His neck, god if you could bite it, it looked so thick and delicious, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows thickly. His torso looked even more defined, every single muscle straining and pulling to fuck into you with all his might. What looked most beautiful to you were his arms, veins popping, tattoos clear even in the dim lighting of the bedroom. His hands, big as ever, gripped your thighs so tight his knuckles turned white. He gripped them even tighter for leverage and pulled you closer the same time he pushed hard-
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck-” your hands scramble to grab onto something, only finding purchase in the soft sheets that did nothing to anchor you against his ruthless movements. “Jungkook! J-Jungkook baby!”
“You sound so fucking pretty baby,” he grunts. He stares down at his cock and the way it splits you open so prettily, your lips spread around him and the sight was so erotic to him, he threw his head back with a prolonged groan before he leaned forward. He grips your thighs and tugs you down on the bed, placing you in the position he wants and your pussy clenches from that simple action alone
“Even you pussy sounds pretty,” he comments, throwing your thighs into the crook of his elbows, anchoring both hands on the mattress and moving so that you body almost bent in half beneath him. “Hear that?” He pulls all the way out and slams back in so hard his hips smack against your ass loudly, The sound your pussy makes when his cock slips all the way in; wet, it’s loud and clear and it brings a flush to your cheeks, though it hardly shows since you were already red with heat. “So wet.”
The new position makes the sensations double, your thighs burning with how far they were spread but you can’t even begin to care with how he begins to furiously drill his cock into you over and over. Body being fucked into the mattress, mewls and screams of agonizing pleasure escape you, completely losing any sense of control you thought you ever had. He looked like sin embodied, bottom lip tugged beneath his teeth, half-lidded eyes, drenched dark hair swinging with every move, sticking to his flushed cheeks.
Your hands shakily reach up to wrap around his neck, one of them pushing some hair back from his face. Fingernails dig into the back of his neck at a particularly deep thrust, eyes rolling back.
“Oh! Oh god! Jung-Jungkookjungkookjungkook-” His name is a repeated mantra along with hoarse cries and wails. The sheets are damp with sweat beneath you, your body being jostled up and down over top of them with harsh movements that Jungkook  doesn’t hold back from anymore.
“Fuck! Your pussy’s so good baby. So wet-” He slows and grinds down against you. Toes curling, back arching, head pushing back into the pillows, your hands slip down his drenched torso across his pecks and settling on his abs, scratching the tensed muscles there as a broken sob leaves your lips.
“Ohgod- oh god- oh fuck! Jungkook please I’m- so good! So fucking good-”
Your desperate rambling excites him and he pushes deeper, and your ears don’t miss the filthy squelch that resonates when grinds his cock into your cunt. You involuntarily clench and he grunts in response. He keeps that way for a couple of seconds, grinding against you, his pubic bone pressing into just the right place to make you see stars.
He slips your thighs down and helps you wrap them around his slender waist before he wastes no time setting the quick pace once again. Hips smacking together loudly, grunts, groans, curses, squeals, they clash together like your bodies do, connected so deeply as he leans down and covers your body completely with his. You look up through hazy vision at his large frame working on top of yours so viciously, blocking everything from around you, not suffocating you but giving you a sense of warmth that has you wrapping your arms around his back and hugging him closely to your body.
Bodies now glued together, his hips swivel as best as they can up into yours, digging so deep, going faster and faster, harder and harder until your moans are quick and chopped up and your hands are slipping down his sweaty, broad back.
“Fuckfuck- Jungkook! Jungkook! Ohgod- oh! Oh!” You cry out. Your legs begin to fall from around him and your feet kick out against the sheets, back arching so high your breasts pressed firmly into his chest. You felt so close to him. His cheek rubs against yours with every thrust, his mouth sucking your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling on it. You turn your head towards him, eyes fluttering shut, taking in every single sliver of pleasure he brought you.
“I’m gonna cum- shit Jungkook pleaseplease- I’m cumming!” You cry out. It’s there. It’s right there. You feel it spreading.
“Fucking-fuck baby. Yeah,” he grunts and pushes harder. You choke on a sob. There are tears in your eyes. “Squeeze my cock. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, baby. That’s it.”
You don’t know if your hands are pulling him closer or pushing him away but he fucks you through it nonetheless, sloppy sounds of his cock drenched in your cum lewd and so loud but you could care less. You’re in heaven. You’re crying out, shouting his name in complete ecstasy and squirming in his hold as he grips your hips so tight they could bruise, pushing in deep and giving you quick shallow thrusts.
“I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming, baby,” he groans. His head is hidden in your neck, groaning and grunting into your clammy skin and giving you his all, knees digging into the mattress as he gives three deep thrusts as hard as he can. Your mouth drops open, no sounds coming out, breath cut short. One hand goes to your hair, gripping so tight as he finally lets go, spurts of warm cum filling you up.
The quiet that takes place after is deafening. It’s so loud after all the intensity you had just experienced. Neither of you move an inch away from each other, no, you pull him closer as you feel a drip of his cum leak out. Your hands lazily and gently caress his back. His lips, glued to one spot on your neck, pucker up and continuously place kisses. You’re both sighing dreamily as you relax further into one another and let your bodies relax after so much exertion before he finally lifts his head up just enough to face you.
No words are exchanged but a kiss takes place, slow, sweet, bringing back those butterflies you always have whenever he’s with you and he pulls away with that same shy, stupid smile of his. After all that, he’s still smiling at you like this, and you do nothing but giggle and stroke his hair away from his face.
+
A while later, after lying together and kissing on each other more, he suggests a shower with an innocent smile that makes you think he really was too tired to try anything else after all that. But you seem to forgot that Jungkook wasn’t this built for nothing and he actually has incredible stamina. Which is why, not even five minutes into the shower, he’s pushing you over the small handle bar and telling you to hold on tight as he spread your legs apart with a nudge of his knees.
He fucks you hard because he knows that’s how you want it. He pulls your hair and tugs you back against his firm chest and whispers the filthiest things in your ear.
“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.”
“You just wanna be fucked hard, huh?”
“Your pussy’s so tight, so warm, perfect for my cock.”
You only ever answer with broken sobs and pitiful moans. The shower is filled with sounds of your bodies colliding together and his harsh grunts that serve to weaken your knees even further until he has to practically hold you up himself. A task he easily does and that makes you even weaker for him.
You cum with hoarse cries, head dropping back against his shoulder as he runs both hands up your front and cups your breasts firmly, hips still slamming against your ass in chase of his own high that he reaches in no time.
He helps you out of the shower with a gentle peck to the tip of your nose as you smile up at him in a daze. He pats you dry with a towel and dabs at your hair to get any excess water out and you continue to stare up at him, entranced.
He looks so pretty. Eyes wide and focused on getting you dry, hair dripping down his face and neck. So different from the man who was just fucking you into next week a couple of minutes ago in the shower. No, this man smiles cutely down at you and giggles when you kiss his chin as he leans down further to dry your thighs. You kiss on his chest, admiring the tattoos scattered from his shoulder and down to his arm and hand. You kiss on him more and he sighs at the feeling, but he doesn’t expect you to push him away to rest his behind against the counter before swiftly dropping down to your knees in front of him.
The bathroom soon fills with his low moans and groans, backed with soft sounds of your mouth working on his cock. He watches closely as you attempt to swallow him down as much as possible, smaller hands working over the rest.
You look up at him through your lashes and watch as his head drops back and exposes the long column of his neck, the sight somehow getting you aroused once again as you feel wetness begin to gather between your legs. You suck harder, pull off and swirl your tongue deliciously around his cock.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he encourages. His hand pets your hair tenderly before he gathers up some strands behind your head to grip. Your mouth looks so good stuffed full of his cock, lips wrapped so prettily around him. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad, but he thinks he’ll save that for a later time so he can give you more time for it. Instead, he leans back and enjoys the show, compliments and praises continuously leaving his lips as you hum against his cock, pleased with his sounds.
He cums down your throat with a long groan of your name and looks down at you with a breathless chuckle as he helps you up to your feet.
+
He eats you out again. He does it so good this time there are tears in your eyes by the end of it.
He has you ride him, and you do so with vigor, grappling onto his strong and sturdy shoulders for support as you bounce yourself on his cock.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you gasp time and time again. Sweat drips down your back at the effort. Your thighs burn. His eyes look everywhere at you, your face, your neck, your breasts, your dripping cunt. He leans back on his palms and watches with a satisfied smirk as you fuck yourself on his cock.
“That’s a good girl, baby,” he groans. You pause your bouncing and swivel your hips, grinding against him and he throws his head back. Leaning forward, you lick a strip up his neck hungrily, something you’ve been craving to and he grunts loudly.
He’s sitting up and grabbing your ass, fucking up into your hard, three, four times and it’s enough to have you squealing before he lifts your frail body off of him and places you on the mattress with ease.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he situates you. Ass up in the air, face down on the mattress. “I can’t get enough of you,” he groans, grabbing your ass and unable to stop himself from slamming his palm down harshly, an action that has you jolting forward in surprise. “You’re amazing,” he groans as he slides inside of you once again after sitting on his knees behind you. Whimpers fall freely from your lips because he immediately picked up the pace knowing the both of you were too close already. “I could fuck you forever.”
You squeal as another harsh slap lands on your behind.
“Again. More,” you whimper. Fisting the sheets between your palms, tears that were previously held back now escaping your eyes. It was so much. You loved it. “P-please.”
He spanks you again and again and again, as long as you ask for more, he delivers And he fucks you good while doing it, slamming into you so hard he has to keep you steady with his hands. Hips smacking against your ass, cock drilling you into the mattress, battering your cunt so good.
“F-fuck. Fuck J-Jungkook- so good. Sogood. So good oh god please-”
He goes harder. Faster. He spanks you again and more tears fall from your eyes. You bury your face into the mattress and muffle your uncontrollable crescendo of screams and moans into it as your high crashes over you for the nth time this night.
“Oh god, you’re such a good girl,” he breathes almost in disbelief as you cream his cock, coating it with your essence. Eyes glued to his cock still slamming into you. the sight brings him to his release in a couple of seconds as his hips lose their control and become sloppy.
“Shit. Shit! Fuck, __. Oh baby,” he groans and grunts and makes all sorts of noises, once again filling you with his cum as you sniffle and whimper into the mattress, keeping still for him as he comes down from his high.
The shower you two had taken is practically non-existent by now, and you feel sticky again as he gently pulls out and drops onto the mattress with a tired groan.
Both of you were completely burned out by now.
You slowly lift your face from the mattress to look over at him and he’s already staring at you. His cheeks are red. His hair, still damn from the shower, probably coated in sweat now, is sticking to his forehead. He’s breathing hard. He has the biggest smile on his face, two bunny teeth on full show, eyes crinkling, nose scrunching; the whole deal.
“That was nice,” he comments. You giggle.
“That was really nice,” you add lamely, twisting to lay on your side facing him.
He scoots closer and hugs you to him, sneaking his leg between yours until the two of you were pressed together tightly. He’s humming a tune, barely audible, and you trace patterns up and down his back distractedly.
“I really like you Jungkook,” you admit suddenly and you’re already inwardly shaking your head at how stupid that sounded after the intense couple of hours you two had just experienced.
“I think we’ve already established that a long time ago,” he chuckles and pulls back to look down at you. 
“No, I-” you pause and look down at his chest shyly. Your fingers continue tracing his warm back. “I really, really like you, Jungkook.”
He kind of gets what you’re trying to say and that maybe you’re just not ready to actually word it out. But he knows for sure when you look up at him and into his eyes. He knows.
“Well, I really, really like you too, __,” he repeats, smile getting smaller and his eyes more serious. His fingers push back your hair and he gently strokes your cheek and nudges his nose against yours as your eyes flutter shut at the intimate contact.
“I’ll always be here,” he repeats words that he’s said to you before. Words that you know are true. Because he always was and always will be here. Sure, he came for the job, but eventually, he stayed for you. 
You know, he was your knight in shining armor after all.
10 notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 3 years
Text
an ode to winter | dabi.
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♡ pairing: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader.
♡ word count: 14.1K
♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.
♡ genre: manga war arc!au, single-parent!au, unplanned pregnancy!au,  angst, fluff, smut.
♡ summary: touya todoroki had broken a lot of things, your heart, promises, your window a few times, but you swore he'd never leave your child feeling that way. but when he wants back into your life, will he take no for an answer? And do you even want to say it?
♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, ( literally 5k of it ), MANGA SPOILERS IN THE EXTENDED ENDING,  mentions of pregnancy, mentions of semi-toxic!relationships, struggling with parenting, blackmail ??,   unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, losers ), handjobs, oral sex ( female receiving ), fingering ( female receiving ),  choking, branding, squirting, spit!kink, needy touya lol <3
♡ author’s note(s): OK so this started out as a fic for my bestie @ozzy-bozzy​ but then turned into this long ass vent fic bc i do be struggling!! i’ve barely written for touya so apologies if his character is off. special thanks to @bakugous-trauma for beta reading n @doinmybesthere for the summary and beta reading and thanks for 4.7K MWAH <3
♡ masterlist | requests
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the snow had fallen heavy that day, its flakes dancing along the window panes while you’d brought her into the world. you hated the cold, the way it nipped at your nose and stung at your cheeks, how it could freeze over a heart so badly that it would take years to thaw it out. you’d complained about the ice sheets that frosted your windows to the doctors, the ones on the roads too, but they’d simply wrote it off as your anxieties related to bringing kori home for the first time in such weather.
funnily enough, your daughter much resembled the cold in many ways. you’d named her ‘kori’; meaning ice, since her hair was white as the crisp blanket of winter outside and her eyes a piercing shade of aqua marine, that for a while, had no meaning written behind them except for a cool curiosity that you knew didn’t come from your side of the family. she wasn’t warm either, the first time you held her, her flesh against yours was almost a painful spark of frostbite— you expected that it was related to the lineage she came from too.
you thought that you’d resent kori when she was born; for the struggles that her new life had brought to you. you’d given birth alone and afraid, having lost friends and contact with your family due to keeping your pregnancy a secret. if they had known who caused you to end up in this situation in the first place, you were sure you’d have lost them all anyways. you hadn’t a chance to attend maternity classes due to the hours you worked in order to ensure yourself and your child’s financial security. although, prior to her arrival, dabi had told you that if you chose to give your daughter the todoroki name; you both would be looked after when the right time came.
and like a fool in love, you’d believed him, avoiding the apologetic gazes of the doctors and midwives who’d delivered your baby as you filled out her paperwork and birth certificate. one nurse even asked you if you wanted to contact endeavour for support, and you couldn’t blame her— the rumours of your child potentially being that of natsuo todoroki’s had spread fast through the hospital and it was a given, figuring his bad boy college reputation. natsuo and his ventures into the college life were no stranger to the media, so it didn’t surprise you nor the doctors to believe that this wasn’t the first time a girl had given birth alone to a todoroki child. you suspected that if there were any, enji todoroki would have paid them off.
so you let them believe what ever false truth that might have plagued the hospital walls about yourself and your daughter— not having the heart to tell them that you’d probably receive a much larger sum of money to keep hush about the child that you mothered and the child who’s father belonged to endeavour’s deceased, eldest son.
so you realised, thumb held by the chubby hand of your sweet infant girl; that you couldn’t hate her for the mistakes you’d made and the mess you’d become tangled up in— you could only promise to do your best in raising her despite the odds and difficult circumstances, you could give her the life and childhood that her father never had but most certainly deserved.
“miss yn...”
your midwife; himari enters the room, calling for you— tearing your gaze away from the hypnotising sea-foam eyes belonging to your daughter, the way she looked at you only reminding you of dabi. you’d told him once that his eyes always took you to the mediterranean sea, to which he’d laughed and mentioned you’d never seen it before. when the pair of you realised that this was true, the boy with the black hair and intoxicating stare made an oath to you, that he would take you there someday so you could bask in the warm sun and dip your toes into the clear oceans. you only hoped that this oath still remained true.
“miss yn...” himari tries again, this time stepping further into your hospital room. your thoughts had carried you so far away that you hadn’t realised how close she’d gotten as she lingered by your cot. her hands lay flat against her pale blue uniform, nails you note—neatly trimmed— and a smile that would have made you feel comfortable had you not known she’d volunteered to care for you because she too believed she’d be paid off by endeavour. you almost felt bad that she thought the silly lie was true and that she had a shot at a big time bonus but it was funny to think that no one would believe her when she eventually took to the news to claim that she cared for the next heir of the todoroki empire. “it’s says here, that kori is scheduled for feeding— i was wondering if you wanted to continue breast feeding or try pumping a bottle or two today?”
chewing on the inside of your cheek, you hum with hesitance. feeding kori was something you’d never discussed with dabi, some of the nurses had assured you that it was possible for you to do both— so that you could grow closer to your daughter and form a tight bond whilst also giving the opportunity to others to feed her when need be. there weren’t many others, but you figured that dabi might want to give bottle feeding a whirl when he finally returned from the league business. the business that had made him miss his little girl’s birth.
kori gargles from hunger in your arms, drawing your attention back to her tiny form. a stray strand of hair curls against her forehead from underneath her blankets and swaddling— the end you notice has a slight tint of red to it. the icy shell around your heart thaws. glancing back up to himari; you grin with a decision in mind. “i’d like to try breast feeding again, we can use the pump tomorrow.” you say, voice quiet.
“do you need any help getting her to latch?” your midwife asks, aiding you into a comfortable position to feed kori.
“no,” you smile after getting settled, pushing down your gown to expose your breast to your little girl. “i’ve got her, i can take care of her.”
you say the words more so to yourself than to himari, a hidden reassurance that you’re more than capable of raising your daughter on your own.
for now at least.
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that winter, dabi never came home.
the snow melts, the flowers bloom and the seasons change. your daughter grows with the swift transition of the weathers too, her hair is a little longer now but the small curl of red against her forehead remains hidden and the same. her eyes open wider, still that deep shade of ocean blue, she can sit up on her own, throws toys out of her crib  and her favourite movies are bambi and bambi two. they’re the only things that she watches, which you hate, because they remind you of her. an innocent child who loses one parent and is left in the care of the emotionally closed off other.
you hadn’t realised how much you would need dabi, but still he is nowhere to be seen.
raising kori on your own proves a challenge, especially now that she’s a little bigger— it was easy after she was born; she was quiet and only made a fuss when she was hungry or needed to be changed. went down easy too, that was until her wails reared their ugly head as soon as the colder parts of winter hit. no matter what you did, the girl would cry for hours on end until her face would hurt from how scrunched it was and her fingers would turn red from the grip she had on your hands.
since her birth, you and kori had to move three times due to the noise complaints about her consistent crying throughout the day, evening and night. by the time february rolled around, you’d ended up in an apartment not so far from dabi’s old neighbourhood— it was a shitty area with high crime rates and an eerie feel to it that made you clutch your purse tighter when you walked home from the late night shifts— you had never had any intentions to raise kori in a dump like this, you wanted a better life for her than what dabi had, but your shabby two bedroom apartment in the dark side of town would be enough for now.
the rent was cheap since your current boss at the local grocers market was close friends with the building manager, but your boss was also a sleaze who thought offering you an extra 10% off of your weekly shop and an expired coupon for the coffee joint down the street would be enough to get into your pants. he was just another thing on your list that you hated about the world, about the current life you lead but you needed to keep him close to keep your rent low and a roof over your head.
besides, it had been a few days since you last saw him at work— the asshole was probably taking a few days to himself while you and your colleagues practically ran the store.
you can’t leave kori with a sitter; they never worked with her. your daughter was far too temperamental for the average person and would spend one night with her before taking their pay and quitting. the only person able to handle your beloved little girl was the old lady who lived two floors above yours, mrs. yamamoto. she was a sweet woman, widowed by fifteen years and had taken a liking to kori that one time you’d helped with her groceries when she couldn’t make it out in the february winter after your little girl was born.
it seemed kori liked mrs yamamoto as well, she was only ever quiet in the woman’s presence and you put it down to how high she had the heat up in her apartment. one time, it was up so high the power in the building went out for an entire night— which was hell for you since kori wouldn’t stop bawling. however; you appreciated the help, you’re sure that without the help of the elder woman you would have been far under the surface— drowning in regret.
but sometimes, it’s easy for the darker emotions to slip through the cracks— take a choke hold over your sanity. there would be nights where guilt would consume you and tears would flow heavily down your cheeks while your daughter slept. it was hard being alone, no one to confide in about the troubles of parenting or to reassure you that you were doing a good job at taking care of your child.
it didn’t help that winter was coming up again, kori’s first birthday fast approaching. the sudden milestone only made you wish that dabi was around more — it hurt you to know that there was possibility he’d run out on you and his responsibilities as a father but part of you believed that your lover was better. the eldest todoroki son appeared way too excited throughout your pregnancy to leave you with nothing.
despite not being able to make it to appointments due to his criminal nature, dabi had somehow manged to find the money to get you a 4D ultra sound of your baby, telling you a few odd jobs here and there allowed him to scrape the cash together. you never asked what it was that he did, afraid of what you might find in the eyes of the man that you loved so much.
why did you allow yourself to love a man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day if he hadn’t broken into your home? his seafoam eyes a glowing shade as he threatened your life through shards of broken glass and then wails of cop sirens outside. were you just as broken as he? had you not realised it yet? you could blame this whole mess on the fact that he kept coming back, but you always let him back in. dabi was a broken man who only knew blood and grit and grime and you were the girl with a chance to lead a normal life— yet you poured all of your heart and all of your soul into loving him because you were so sure that you could fix him.
and every single time you’d convinced him, convinced yourself that what you had could be normal and domestic— dabi would slip between your sheets, pinning you to your bed with your name heavy on your lips and the emotion of love painted into the turquoise flecks in his eyes. they burned with passion while his heated cock sunk between your plush thighs and welcomed him into your warmth. the moans you’d share while your skin slapped together, creating a bubble of safety where you were the only two people on the world.
dabi made promises against your swollen lips as his fingers swirled hidden messages of desire into your slick, puffy clit. he couldn’t give you the ring, the wedding or the house with the white picket fence and dog barking at the post man in the front yard— but he could give you every part of him from the good to the bad, the beautiful to the ugly and he would seal that promise with a throaty groan of ‘you are mine and i am yours...’ into your ear as you came together.
but it seemed that like all things, dabi’s promises were broken like shattered glass— never meant to be kept or eternalised. the shards cut your delicate fingers, the pain numbed as you were left to pick up the pieces and be strong for the small life you were now responsible for.
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you were careful to not let the door fly in and hit the wall opposite as you unlocked it, stumbling into your two bedroom with kori’s chubby legs locked around your hips and bag full of groceries in your other hand. “look princess,” you coo down at your daughter sweetly, watching as she drools all over your staff lanyard from work. “we’re home!” bending down, you dropped the produce off by the door before heading off to your living room area, propping kori in front of her toy mat.
smiling down at her, you brush the pure white hair that curls over her cobalt eyes and kiss her freckled cheeks— heart swooning at the way kori giggles in your arms. she’d been on her best behaviour the entire week, keeping out of trouble with the staff at her daycare and mrs yamamoto in the place upstairs, so it was only right that you treat her.
“you hungry babygirl? want mommy to make your favourite, hm?” kori is barely old enough to talk aside from a few babbles and repeats of mama but that doesn’t stop you from asking.
“mmmamamamaa!!”
you press another kiss to her baby fat cheeks before heading to the kitchen to prepare her favourite dinner— spaghetti. ever since kori started eating her solids, she hadn’t been a picky eater and you noticed that her appetite much resembled dabi’s, who couldn’t afford to be fussy about any of the meals you’d made for him before he disappeared.
making the sauce is easy, a dish you’d prepared from when you were a child and used to cook with your parents— you retrieve the ingredients from the groceries and pull out the stuff you’ll need to cook them. you mince the vegetables easily like you’d been taught as your mind gets away from you.
you wish that dabi was here to enjoy the domesticity of your current life— maybe him being around would lift the dark cloud over your life. sometimes it hurt to know that he would be missing out on moments like this and you could imagine him sitting by the couch while kori played with her toys and you cooked for them both. in this world, he’d laugh at her fascination with colder toys and magnets— make a joke about how much your little girl resembles him and kiss your cheek when you served them both up their favourite meals.
tears pool in your eyes at the thought of your wish never being granted and that’s all it takes for you to slip and cut your finger while chopping up the garlic. “fuck!” you boss, dropping the knife and squeezing your hand around the wounded digit. you know that the clattering of the knife has scared kori, and from the way she looks at you, you can already tell that she’s seen you injure yourself. “god, fuck...that hurt.”
there’s a pause in time, while you rinse your cut under the tap, cold water soothing the sting before kori starts to wail like her life depends on it. in a rush, you grab a tea towel in hopes that it’ll stop the bleeding and head straight for your baby, hoping that you’ll be able to soothe her. by the time you reach kori, her eyes are red with tears and snot dribbles from her nose down to her chin while she babbles loosely all the new words she’s learned— in a whiny tone.  
“baby, don’t cry mommy’s got you,” you murmur to her, reaching out to the little girl with open arms. your heart breaks at the way her bottom lip wobbles in a watery pout. kori crawls into your arms, white mop of soft baby hair buried into the junction between your shoulder and your neck— her tiny body shakes with awful heaves and cries while her tears dampen the old hoodie of her father’s that you wear, effectively ruining the fabric. “come on honey, it’s okay! momma didn’t mean to scare you...”
she snivels in your arms, quiet for only a second while you walk around the apartment bouncing her. walking kori up and down seems to soothe her for the most part, a trick that worked when she was first born and had her horrible crying fits. “good girl, mama’s got you...” you continue to soothe her, brushing a finger under her white lashes to remove her tears. all is well for a second and it seems her tantrum has calmed, until she grabs onto your wounded finger and makes you curse in pain again.
“shit!”
“m-momma-!” kori whimpers, face creasing in pain as her cheeks start to heat up again. you fear that if you don’t do something soon she’ll bust a lung from crying.
you shake your head in an attempt to calm her down, baby sobs striking right through your body and resume bouncing her, hoping that it’ll work. “shhh kori, honey, it’s okay— mommy’s okay and so are you...” in the process of comforting her, you somehow trip over the discarded knife, sending it flying into the cabinets across from the island and making another loud noise that further spooks kori.
at this she screams bloody murder, the sound of her little chest heaving giving you a splitting headache. you were tired, tired of your daughter’s crying , working long hours with no help and raising a child all on your own. you were tired of the pain spreading through your head and your body and your heart. you needed an out or break at the very least.
you should feel guilty for what you’re about to do, heading for the nursery with a heaving baby in your grip. you can’t think of anything better to do than put kori down for a nap and hope that her crying tires her out— you do your best to pry the little girl from clinging onto your clothes and tuck her into her crib as she sniffles, quickly backing out of her room before she can call for you and make you feel even worse than you already do.
you close the door quietly behind you, somewhat sliding down it while your own sobs take over your body— shaking you violently as you hug your knees to your chest. you don’t know how long you sit there, biting your lips and holding onto in your whimpers while tears stream down the apples of your cheeks, but eventually
you find yourself drifting off with dreams of your happy family.
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you jump awake a few hours later, surrounded by a thick darkness from the sky outside. the hum of the city streets helps to bring you back down to earth as you rub the sleep from your puffy eyes and blink away the exhaustion. you don’t quite remember when you’d fallen into a slumber but you figure that kori must have eventually, judging by the quietness that surrounds your apartment.
the blanket of the night allows your guilt to burn brightly in your chest— you shouldn’t have left her alone. scrambling to your feet, you stumble over to the kitchen counter and grab your phone to read the time. 11:06pm. it’s just about time that you check on your daughter, but with two steps of heading to the nursery and you’re met with foreign sound that doesn’t quite fit in with the usual creaks and squeaks of your apparent.
happy gurgles belonging to your baby creep out from underneath her bedroom door, low humming or singing to accompany her sweet sound. humming that you don’t recognise. with a pang of fear to your heart, you reach for the knife on your kitchen floor as a weapon of defence— this would go down nicely with the police. a single mother on self defence...yeah, that could work out.
the knife shakes in your hand as you approach kori’s nursery, barely steady even when you push open the door.
“...touya?”
nothing could prepare you for what you’d see after walking into that room but when your eyes fall witness to your love standing in the centre of the room with a little tuft of white hair cradled to his bare chest. the air around you tingles with warmth as if dabi has heated the place up with his quirk and your little girl curls into him as if she’s known him all her life. but she hadn’t, he hadn’t.
all at once, your heart heals just as it breaks— it’s been so long since you’ve seen the villain that you can’t help but notice all the changes in him, the way his eyes droop a little more with exhaustion and his hair dusted with a the slightest bit of white. he was noticeably thinner too, maybe from being away from a warm bed and good food for too long...so a half of you was relieved that he was home, the other— hurt and betrayed.
“hey beautiful,” dabi’s timbre voice fills your entire being, stimulating your senses into a dull tingle. his lips a drawn into soft smirk as he rocks kori back and forth, your  baby’s eyes flutter with the gentle indication of sleep. “how’ya been?”
if you weren’t frozen in shock, you would have given the villain a piece of your mind. how dare he...after all this time apart from you, from his daughter...ask how you were doing? your eyes flutter to the open window behind the oldest todoroki son, as if you need to look away from him to convince yourself he’s real and he won’t disappear when you look back.
proven right by meeting the cool, chartreuse sea of his eyes— your throat runs dry as all you’d ever dreamed of saying in this moment, flees from your mind. “what are you doing here?” you say, trying to sound firm even though your voice falls through.
touya stays quiet, twirling a long finger through the small curls on his—your daughter’s head. “i was in the neighbourhood.” he mumbles, gaze tearing away from you to focus on the content infant he has in his arms.
you should feel angry, you should be screaming and kicking at dabi— forcing him out of your home with your child safe in your own arms but your body doesn’t will you to. hurt seeps through your veins at the casual aura in his tone. of course dabi would treat the situation as if it never existed and that he’d been with you the whole time. the pain of seeing him with her as if he’d been in kori’s life from the very start wraps around your heart in a poisonous grip and squeezes hard until you’re choking back a sob, letting it sit in the base of your throat.
you refuse to break in front of him.
“you need to go. you need to put her down and you need to leave.” you attempt to assert yourself in a harsh bark, almost making dabi jump. he’d never seen you like this before, but then again he hadn’t seen you in a year. he could only imagine what motherhood had done to you, especially facing it on your own. touya hesitates, kori shifting in his soft grip— one he didn’t even know that he had as a villain but you steady yourself and repeat your words. “touya, i said you need to leave.”
“why? so you can fall asleep and leave her crying on her own again?” the villain spits out, harsher than he intended. he watches your face fall and your body curl in on itself and he feels bad. dabi had promised you a lot of things since realising he loved you, and not hurting you like his father hurt his mother was one that he’d just broken. relenting, the dark haired villain eases kori from his pec and tucks her into her crib.
there’s a beat of silence and then. “i’m sorry.”
“you should be.”
“yn,” he sighs, running a hand through the light roots of his hair as he leans over his child’s crib. the young father tilts his head, scanning kori’s face while he identifies every characteristic she has from the family he’d done his best to free himself of.   “i’m sorry, it’s just— just that she was cold and crying, so i took off my shirt and held her and she warmed up and—“ dabi pauses his quiet rambling, finally looking up from the slumbering baby tucked away into powder blue silk and locks eyes with you. “and she probably has my mom’s shitty quirk. and i can’t get over how much she looks like them, how big she’s gotten.”
touya finds his shirt after admitting that, throwing on the thin white material before closing the window he came through. he moves with the swiftness that comes with his job, and it’s almost peaceful to watch. you stay plastered by the door, torn between falling right into the palm of his hand and demanding the answers that you and your daughter deserve.
it makes you feel a little sick when he gazes down at kori with pride, it makes you queasy at how easy she was to handle to him. touya todoroki doesn’t know half of what it was to raise his child...but did that make you a bad mother? was there something he shared with kori that you didn’t? dabi hadn’t known what it was to love someone other than himself until he’d met you, but you’d spent your entire life around family and friends who took care of you and made you feel cherished every day. you had all of that before you had dabi, and you’d given it all up for him.
shouldn’t you be the one to easily put your daughter down for a nap? to soothe her tears? and for him to come so briskly into your lives and take care of it all when he doesn’t even know what you’d been through, hurts most of all.
“you don’t even know her,” you start, tremble to your bottom lip as the sob in your throat builds up and threatens to burst. “you never saw her after she was born, never cut the cord, never knew her weight. you don’t know how tiny she was when she came into the world, you don’t know because you didn’t come!” with each word, stray tears manage to escape from your tired eyes, but you’re too fixated on dabi to bother to wipe them. it hurts to cry, it stings even as they stream down the apples of youth cheeks but you don’t move.
“yn, sweetness, i—“
“i know how much she weighed when she was born, four pounds and thirteen ounces. she was so tiny i was scared that she would break—“ you’re gasping now, almost choking yourself out on the pain that burns brightly in your lungs and claws its way up your throat. “i know her favourite foods, what fabrics irritate her skin, her favourite stuffed toys, how she likes to be swaddled in her blankets at night or that her curls make her face itch but they’re practically untameable.”
you start to heave, losing breath with every word and dabi does nothing but watch, keeping an eye on kori to make sure she stays sleeping as he steps towards you. “i know that i love her more than i’ve loved anything in my entire life, despite how much i suffered alone bringing her into this world. and i know that i named her kori after the ice that frosted the windows of my hospital room while i waited for... you.”
touya remains emotionless while you descend into madness, letting you cry it out. “i’ve been watching...”
you want to scream, beat his chest and blame him for how insane you’ve become. “watching isn’t enough touya, she needed you. i-i needed you.” you whimper, falling limp against the door frame as your hands move threateningly towards your hair as if you’re going to rip it out from the root. “...you couldn’t come and visit? not once i-in the eleven months that she’s been alive? not once while she’s been breaking me down and giving—“
“giving you a hard time? i tried, i took care of you from afar...i’m the one who made your boss disappear. the one who put his hands on you.” dabi sneers towards the end of his once gentle words, standing a breaths width away from you. you hate that you crave the same touch from him as he gave to kori, but you’re still so mad at him.
eventually, it all becomes too much and you succumb to the tears that wrack your exhausted body. you sway with each choked wail that tumbles from between your chapped lips and dabi surges forward to catch you after kicking the knife from earlier away, letting you sink into the warmth of his embrace. he feels like home, smells like safety and not a word is uttered as he brings you to the floor and cradles you like he did with his daughter.
dabi doesn’t need to say sorry when he shows you through how close he holds you to his heart.
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when you finally calm down, dabi lifts you bridal style to your bathroom and draws you a bath with the salts and lavender extract from the cupboard above the sink. neither of you speak except for when he softly offers to help you undress— to which you decline— and when he tells you he’s going to fix something to eat.
you knew damn well that the villain could not cook, he hadn’t been when he was little since endeavour took away the entirety of his childhood and you’d only taught him the basics when he was still on the run and stopped by your place from time to time. his favourite thing back then had been to watch you cook to the weird music you kept playing, hips swaying to the beat and a sparkle in your eyes— but you didn’t do that anymore, he could tell those days were long gone.
dabi orders in takeout in the end and you have half a mind to curse him out for using your money— but the day’s events have exhausted you beyond your wits end, so you eat with him in silence atop your double bed after dressing in an old shirt of his. “stay the night.” is what you tell him, scared that he’ll leave. he puts his cigarette out on your balcony. the doors usually stayed locked so kori couldn’t crawl out on her own but you opened it for him since dabi liked to smoke and you hated the ash.
he promised to quit back then, and he hadn’t now.
“i’ll stay.” dabi says, throwing the butt over the ledge and stripping his clothes as he follows you to bed. he decides not to mention he wanted to stay anyway. you peel back the covers enough for him to slip in behind you, heated arms wrapping around your waist and settling on your tummy, where he rubs small patterns into your skin. the villain’s chest is  overwhelmingly warm against your back— reminding you of the days where you would spoon and he’d wait with baited breath for kori to kick.
both of you lay together, wide awake in the dark for goodness knows how long. touya’s breath balmy against the nape of your neck and if you focused hard enough, you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. he pretends to sleep, refusing to acknowledge that his proximity to you affects him in the worst of ways— evident in how his prominent hard on presses against the swell of your ass.
rolling over, your heart skips a beat at the way your love’s eyes still manage to glow brightly in the dark— ignited by the flames of his quirk and emotions of angst from the past.
they flicker as he looks to you, pale skin illuminated by the silver moon slipping in from your balconies, scars as enticing as ever. tentatively, you reach a hand out to cup his face, not kidding the apprehension that paint his matured features even as you run your fingers down the scars on his jaw. “been a while since we’ve been like this,” is all you can muster up, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek while your free hand snakes between your bodies in an attempt to pleasure the man.
fear strikes you right in the chest, leaving you panting as dabi flips you onto your back quickly, pinning your wrists against the bed. “don’t,” he growls, almost feral in tone and in his eyes. “don’t do something you might regret in the morning.”
you lay still, staring at the man above you in an attempt to read him. doing so had always been hard, but tonight you can see every detail of his life and every part of him.  the fear of being his father and disappointing another group of people, a broken man torn between the people he loved and the life he led— you could finally see him. you wondered if it hurt him to be away from you and his child, if he ever thought of you.
you take a deep breath, fabric of the sheets fuzzy in your ears as you shake your head up at him. “i could never regret being with you,” you sigh, dabi’s gaze lowering. “i just need you...”
your proclamation is all the permission dabi needs before he ascends on your neck, almost whimpering at the taste of your skin against his tongue. you know that he’s avoiding your lips, scared that things may not feel the same if he kisses you there— as if your love might have fizzled out from the months that you’ve been apart. the villain’s mouth is hot against your skin, sharp teeth sinking into the column of your throat— it’s not hard for him to find the spots that make your back arch and body tingle, the dark haired man  would be embarrassed to admit that he had your body mapped out in his brain. you were all that he thought about in the months between then and now.
you miss his lips, but you fear that if you push your love to far he’ll clam up and withdraw from you completely. you can’t lose him while you have him now. in the meantime, your bodies press against one another hotly, burning while dabi paints shades of blue and purple deeper than his eyes against your flesh before lapping at each love bite with an odd tenderness people wouldn’t think he possessed at first glance. as he works, touya loses grip on your wrists, allowing them free roam across the expanse of his back.
your nails leave light tracks across his back, trailing up from his muscled back to the nape of his neck— curling in the white roots of his hair in an attempt to tug him up to your lips. “baby,” the old pet name tumbles from between them before you can catch yourself, laboured from where you’re short of breath. “please kiss me, please..”
with newly mussed hair, dabi is still for a moment before leaving one last mark at where your jaw meets your neck— wet tongue lolling over the fresh bruise while his large palm move back to cup your head. a thumb belonging to a scared hand runs over your bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh down while he watches your face for a reaction. “are you sure that’s what you want, beautiful?” the villain chuckles into the dark of the night, pink muscle running over his own lips to wet them in anticipation. “you want your man to kiss you?”
your senses go into overdrive, desperate for any kind of contact from the man above you— he feels so close and yet, a million miles away, even with his body making its way between your thighs and your chests pressing together eagerly.
“touya—“ you breathe, barely able to finish your sentence before the man himself delves deep into your mouth. his lips move with hesitance at first, sucking on yours slightly and parting for air more often than he should but you grip him by the whites of his hair firmly and tug him further into the kiss. your tongue dances along the seam of his lips, prying them open as you seek permission for entrance— dabi groans lowly as you tug on his roots and force your way into his mouth, tasting him as if it were your last time.
you swallow each of his moans that mingle softly with your own, while your tongues dance together messily— the kiss were and sloppy as if the two of you were out of practice. your worries fly out of the window from there, it’s good to know that neither of you had been with others during your time apart instead you feel like a teenager making out with their highschool crush for the very first time. dabi’s hips rut into the plush bed beneath you both and you can tell that even the slightest touches are riling him up beyond belief— it’d been almost a year since he’d felt you against him in any way and it didn’t help that you were so ready to accept him.
that you still wanted him.
whimpering at the thought, the villain pauses against your lips to catch his breath— panting softly. you can feel him pulling away, questioning if he deserves to be with you after everything he’d put you through. so, cupping dabi’s jaw, you let your free hand slip between your heated bodies and glide your fingertips along the waist band of his sweats.
“yn, i ain’t so sure about this,” dabi sighs, body twitching at the proximity of your hands to his hardness, his eyelids flutter shut and lock away his beautiful blue eyes— holding fear, insecurity and desire. “what if ya’still regret this later on?”
smiling up at him, you thumb at his cheek and work your hand deeper into his pants, past his underwear. “you’ve been away too long baby, i would regret not being with you more,” you coo up at him just as you grasp at his hardened length, watching as dabi shudders in your grip. his cock leaks hotly against your soft palm from going untouched for so long, your fingers explore him— tracing down the thick veins on the underside of his length. “let me make you feel good tonight.”
“fuck, sweetness. talk pretty with that filthy fuckin’ mouth of yours.” touya breathes heavily against your mouth, both of yours falling open in hot moans. cheekily, you run a thumb over his tip, circling the slit at the top. dabi collapses on top of you, burying his mop of salt and pepper hair into your neck as he drives his hips into your hand at his own leisurely pace. “y’better live up to those words—shit, don’t go letting me down, princess.” jade orbs finally open, heavy with lust and desire as the air around you tingles with a newfound desire to make each other feel good, settling on the planes of your marked and scratched skin.
your grip around dabi tightens while he fucks into your closed fist, wet sounds filling the room from where he leaks at his bright red tip— almost hot as his hands that dance up your sides and tenderly touch at your hips. so unsure, yet so needy. clear, thick precum guides the movement of your hand as it slides up and down your lover’s girth— he’s much bigger than you remember, swollen with an impending orgasm and dabi stutters when you reach further down his boxers to grip at weighty balls full of his seed, just about ready to burst.
he howls from deep within his chest, the noise only muffled from the drool that glides across his tongue before the villain’s wandering and scarred palms stop at your rib cage, settling just under your breasts. you don’t bother to stop pleasuring him even as his quirk ignites, blue flames burning right through your night shirt to expose your skin to the cool night air.  without even a second thought, dabi’s mouth ascends on your tits, taking one into the hot cavern while his free hand seers marks over the other.
the thought have being branded by your man makes your hips jump and your hand squeeze his cock in your grip— a reminder of what’s to come later on. his strawberry tongue rolls across your hardened nipple and you yelp in surprise with the sudden feeling of cool metal across the exposed flesh. “y-you have your tongue pierced?” you squeal as dabi repeats his actions, loving the way you arch your back into his mouth and your heart rate speeds up.
“never know when a bit of metal’s gonna come in handy, sugar tits.”
you barely have time to formulate a response before your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you, biting and sucking and marking your raw flesh like a man starved of his last meal— you don’t let up either, quickly pumping his cock as he continues to leak, painting your hand with teases of his incoming release. you’re sure that his sweatpants and the sheets below you will be stained with his arousal from how much precum oozes from his dick, slicking up your hands and creating the perfect flashlight but you don’t dare to think of anything else but the way dabi’s face twists with pleasure as he desperately thrusts himself into the softness of your palm.
his cheeks flush red, globs of drool connecting the roof of his mouth to his tongue while his eyes grow fuzzy at each step he takes closer to orgasm, the very drool from his mouth covers each of your breasts as dabi switches between them— creating a layer of wet against your supple skin that shines under the moon. you flick your wrist around him, faster, harder— giving the villain everything you’ve got to make him feel good.
“shit pretty girl, y’gonna make me...cum,” touya shakes in your grip, eyes crossing and tongue becoming lazy against your marked up chest. his salvia pools against your skin while he pants and fucks your wet hand as if it were your pretty little cunt clamping down on him. “fuck, fuck, fuck. don’t you fuckin’ stop, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop...”
he barks out the demands, but there’s a neediness to his tone and whine to his voice that makes you grin with pride, even if you’re barely there from having your nipples stimulated beyond belief. “cum for me touya, please, wanna feel you come undone for me.” you beg him, ever so slightly and it’s just enough to push the villain over the edge, sending him into an earth shattering orgasm. you don’t dare to stop as you jerk him off, guiding down from his high as his cock twitches from release and paints your knuckles with the thick white of his seed. he mewls contendly into your breasts, slowing his hips while the world of colours dance behind his cerulean eyes.
“here with me yet?” you murmur to him, grasping his wild locks to tilt his head up towards your face— dabi looks so blissed out but the smirk on his raw and bitten lips tells you the night is far from over.
pressing a searing kiss to your sternum, your boyfriend’s pierced tongue makes yet another appearance as he trails the muscle down your soft tummy— biting your navel as he goes. “never left gorgeous, but don’t you fucking dare think for a second that this is over, y’got that?” he sits up quickly, grabbing hold of your doughy thighs and using them to pull you down the bed. the pads of his fingers start to burn marks into your skin, dancing along your legs and stopping just above the waistband of your underwear. “gotta stretch this cunt open before i give you my cock, remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”
spreading your thighs nice and wide, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as dabi’s hands finally come into contact with your slit, prodding at your slick folds from over your panties. lowering his face between your open legs, your boyfriend hums in satisfaction as he peels your sticky panties away from your pussy. “why, babydoll, you’re so fucking wet down here. this can’t all be for me, can it?” touya teases you, hot breath fanning against your unused sex while his fingers play with the string of your slick that coats them. “y’must’ve missed your man badly for your lil cunt to look this fucked up, s’pecially when i haven’t even touched’ya yet.”
you shiver and nod weakly, willing to say or do anything to feel more of your boyfriend against you. “s’all for you dabi, o-only you could get me this wet, n-no one else could take your place...” you mewl, hips bucking into the air while the man himself watches you grow needier and needier, hormones expelled into the air. dabi grins, leaning into your core once more to press his nose into your wetness, sniffing your spiked panties like the dirty man he is— only to then lay his pierced tongue flat against your folds, tracing your hole with the muscle while his nose bumps at your clothed clit.
“saved this all for me, huh? you’re so loyal, sweetness. waiting for me all this time…” he kitten licks at your cunt until you’re writhing amongst the already solid sheets, forcing his spit into your hole from over the thin fabric of your panties, creating a more prominent outline of your puffy lower lips as your thighs quieter around his head. they threaten to close as he works on you through your underwear— teasing and prodding at your sex to see if you respond the same way to his touches as you used to.
you force your shaking through his black and white locks, grabbing hold of his roots in an attempt to pull dabi back to your heat when he lifts his head from between your thighs— pushing your lips into a pout. “no, no no, baby, please— need you to eat my cunt, want your mouth on me, please!” you cry out, but you’re quickly pacified by his scarred hand which cups your pussy— seat of his hand grinding into your clit.
“god, if i had known you were still this eager to fuck me i woulda come home a long time ago, babydoll.” he chuckles, licking up your inner thigh and biting down on the plush flesh. “need’ta get rid of these though, they’re getting in my way.” the villain gestures to your panties, making you watch as his quirk burns it’s way through the silky material until it’s nothing but ash against your sheets. you gasp as soon as your cute little pussy is exposed to the cool air, missing the warmth of touya’s pink tongue against it. “better.” he sneers, eyes bright and glowing in the dark with a new sense of feral desire.
thick digits press into your tight hole at the same time touya takes to sucking on your swollen clit, forcing their way up your velvet walls in search for your pleasure spot. dabi chuckles against your sticky folds as you begin to whine, hips rolling up into your lover’s face while his tongue draws rough patterns onto your bud. you’ve missed him, missed this. the nights where the villain dabi would sneak into your home, becoming your touya todoroki between the four walls that you shared— where you would spend nights seeing stars by his hand or his cock and he would make you his over and over again. the memories have you clamping down on his digits like there’s no tomorrow, greedily sucking them in as he strokes at the walls of your sex and makes your whole body shake.
touya works hard at pleasuring you, apologising for his absence through slurping the juices from your folds only for you to gush and paint his scarred chin with more of your nectar. the way you taste makes him dizzy, he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs and never miss the outside world like he did before tonight. he wants to be good for you, make you feel good too and it’s not enough to feel the ecstasy roll off of your heavenly body in waves— he wants all of you, mind, body and soul to belong to him.
you can barely breathe, leaking with every swipe of his tongue against you and every twist of his fingers inside of you. you can feel everything at once, the euphoria crackling across your brain, high on the way touya makes you feel. “god, t-touya, don’ stop...feel so fucking good…” you heave in a drawn out moan, barely able to tell what’s up and what’s down as the villain pulls his fingers from your slick hole and replaces them with his tongue ( only after they’ve pushed down on your g-spot over and over again ).
“you’re not the one giving orders, sweet stuff, oh no.” dabi reminds you sloppily, looking like a child with no table manners as your nectar smears across his face. for his own satisfaction, he delivers a harsh smack to your pussy, watching as your entire body jolts and jumps up the bed. “your cunt is mine and i’ll do what i want with it, show you how much i missed it.”
his possessive words almost set you off, the knot in your stomach growing tighter with every pinch of your nub and every swirl on his tongue inside your walls, committing every ridge to memory. your body burns and you’re not sure if it’s from dabi pressing against you so hotly or because of the desire that fuels the fire inside you.
“yours, yours, yours!” you chant like a mantra, high pitched and whiny— your voice mixing with the crude sounds of your own pathetic cunt, that grows louder when dabi spits on your clit to add to your wetness. he lets it drip between your folds, fingers to busy with stimulating you to catch it before it slides between your lower cheeks, opting to use his tongue on you instead.
“ya’like that don’t you? missed your whinin’ pretty girl, fuck, even missed making you a fucking mess.” you keen into his touch, babbling incoherent praises to the man between your legs as he spreads you wider by the ass with one hand and forces his fingers back into your cunt with the other. his fingers curl into a come hither motion, repeatedly pressing down on your spongy spot as he sloppily makes out with your puffy nub— taking only one, two, three strokes to make your eyes roll into the back of your skull and your orgasm to wash over you.
your body convulses, shaking as you’re hit hard by your release— juices gushing all over your lover’s face even as he refuses to let up. “t-touya no...no no...can-can’t,” you whinge, tears clumping in your lashes. dabi spreads your lips again, using three digits instead of two to continue stimulating your clit until another release builds up inside your lower belly— clear liquid gushing out of your abused pussy and staining the sheets below.
he hums proudly, pressing a lasting kiss to your fluttering hole before reaching up to your lips to do the same, barely allowing you the time to catch your breath— chest heaving while you come down from your high. “so pretty when you squirt for me like that, sweetness,” dabi moans into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on him. but as soon as he comes, he’s gone— rolling you onto your stomach and lifting your hips so your ass sits in the air for him. “gonna take my cock now, kay?”
“kay,” you mumble into the sheets, brain too  fuzzy to resist as the villain manhandles you the way he wants.
after shoving down his sweatpants, the eldest todoroki grips the peachy soft flesh of your ass— smacking it a few times with his heat activated palms to watch the flesh jiggle and his handprint sink into the skin. you lean back, watching over your shoulder as his cock stands at full attention, hard from seeing you come undone on his fingers and tongue. it burns bright red at the tip, another fat glob of precum making it shine and making you dribble with anticipation. “y’such a fuckin’ slut, my beautiful slut… hungry for my cock even after i’ve wrecked your lil pussy so bad,” dabi says with a cocky lilt to his voice, the very tone making your hole clench around nothing. he taps his sticky cockhead against your slit, running it up and down your cunt three or four times— groaning as it slides between your cheeks. the sensation causes your back to arch as you wail, fingers gripping the bed covers so tight that you almost cause them to tear. “don’t you worry baby, ‘m gonna make up for lost time, you don’t have to miss me anymore.”
there’s a double meaning to his words that you don’t ask him to elaborate on, too caught up in the way he teases your hole as he dips his length in— only to pull it right back out. “don’t tease, need you badly,” you plead, earning yourself another harsh spank to your raw ass cheeks.
“shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” the words are harsh against his tongue, but dabi utters them softly as he relents to his wishes. his cerulean gaze flutters down to where your bodies begin to join, his large hand gripping his length before he starts to push into your dribbling entrance. “god, you’re s’fuckin’ tight, you might as well be a virgin.” pussy spasming at his words, you leak against touya’s cock, creating a lewd squelching sound as he pushes more of himself into you. the weight of dabi’s thick girth causes painful, yet delicious burn which he eases by rubbing soothing circles into your clit once more. “been s’long, i outta fuck you open again, huh?”
“uhuh, take me again touya. make me yours, all over again.” you slur over the spit drowning your tongue, eyes fluttering shut when the villain’s hips surge forward his dick brushes against your cervix. his rough, calloused palm grabs your neck from behind, forcing you down into the sheets while he bottoms out inside of you and pushes the last of his cock past your entrance. the two of you groan in unison, touya sitting heavy inside of your walls before you muster up the energy to say. “move.”
he doesn’t need to be told twice, whilst dabi was enjoying the feeling of being engulfed by your soft, warm insides— cock twitching in relief from time to time— he finds it within him to pull back from your selfish cunt to thrust into you with all his might. the force pulls a broken squeal from between your bitten and bruised lips, your hips pushing back against dabi to keep him inside of you. the pair of you move in sync, bodies dancing in a sensual grind between lovers that moulds your cunt into the shape of your boyfriend once more. “oh fuck yeah baby, oooh, missed your cunny s’bad…” dabi yowls loudly, listening for the squashy sounds of your sexes moving against one another. “christ, you like when i talk about your pathetic little pussy like this?”
you bite down on your lower lip, embarrassed by your own bleats of pleasure when he degrades you like this. annoyed by your lack of answer, touya grabs onto your hips and pulls you off of his cock, only to slam them back into you seconds later. his pace is unforgiving and relentless from there, forcing your body up the bed with every thrust into your core. “yes! like it, love it, missed your cock so bad touya!” you cry, holding onto the sheets for dear life as his dick drags along your pleasure spots and his hands burn marks into your ass and hips.
weakly, you attempt to match his thrusts. circling the meat of your ass back onto dabi and squeezing around the head of his girth every time it plunges into your sopping pussy. your arousals mix as he pounds away at your hole, a thick string hanging between your bodies and dribbling down your inner thighs, tainting innocent skin. the wet noise reverberates across the room, creating a passionate symphony with dabi’s deep, pitiful moans.
even though it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate like this, dabi still knew all the ways to get your body going. he took you from behind but still let his marred hands wonder and explore the planes of your skin, pinching here and there, marking your body as his to use and his alone. there’s love hidden beneath his rough touches, little signs that he missed having you so close to him— having you split open on his cock while you dripped on his pelvis and ruined your bedsheets, was his own way of unleashing his pent up emotions of love, anger and despair onto you and you wanted it. you wanted his good and his bad while he fucked you like his life depended on it, balls deep inside the pussy of the woman he loved was where he was most vulnerable with you.
“s-shit, sweetness, you’re such a pretty mess, so fucked up on my cock, can feel you clamping around me like my greedy bitch should.” you’re stuffed so full, clenching every time touya drives his cock deeper into your gummy cunt, head prodding at the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. he’s losing his mind at how you choke out his iron hot girth, clear liquid seeping down your thighs at every thrust. “you’re my beautiful brain dead baby, letting me fuck you like this, yeah? missed you baby, missed this,” despite his words, touya is no better than you, mind hazy with thoughts of you creaming around him because of how good he’s made you feel. him, and no one else. you saved yourself for him after all these months, the least he could do was bring you to cloud nine.
he does so by angling his thrusts up to meet your pleasure spot every time, howling your name in the way he knows you like just to feel your hot cunny spew more of your juices out against his tummy. “missed you, thought about this for months,” you lament, elbows that kept you up finally giving out as your body tiredly collapses into the sheets— dabi’s balls still clapping against your ass. he follows you down into bed covers, chest pressing hotly against your back as the jackhammers into you from behind. “thought about your fat cock in my tight pussy, t-touched myself to you...made being alone worth it, made waiting for you to come home worth it. ‘cause i get to see your beautiful face when you fuck me…” you barely register what you’re saying, babbling incorrectly while the temperature of your body rises with your level of arousal.
behind you, touya’s cheeks burn with a new feeling. deep down, all he wanted was to be validated as a lover to you, he’d always been deemed as the bad guy incapable of feeling anything for anyone other than himself. but you, you had proved him wrong so many times and he still found your words hard to believe. yet, it felt good to know how much you loved him. snaking a hand down to your face, the villain squishes your cheeks together and brings you up to his own face despite the arch to your back— he keeps up his sinful pace, your lower cheeks bouncing with every push and pull of his length while he drips a globule of his saliva into your pouting mouth. “shut up,” he grunts harshly, although love is written across his cobalt eyes.
you smile up at him dopily, keeping eye contact with him as you swallow gratefully. “anything for you,” his hands slip from your squashed cheeks to your throat, cupping it as he holds you against him. more arousal pools in your lower stomach, turned on by the thrill of him being able to end your life right then and there, all it would take would be one flame but you know more than anything that dabi loves you and would never hurt you. “i love you, touya todoroki. i a-always will.”
your admission makes dabi’s heart stop in his chest, heated pants tickling your ear as he continues to take you and claim your body as his. with newfound vigor, he links his free hand with yours that lays against the bed and rams his cock into your core as hard and as fast as he can, determined to make you cum. “i—oh fuck, i love you too, sweetness…” the arsonist can feel the way your cunt flutters around his girth at his confession, tears building up in your eyes once more. god, you were so pretty like this, arched for him perfectly in the moon, stars illuminating every curve and dip on your body— showing off the stretch marks from where you’d carried his child. everything about you turned him on in the best possible ways and everything about you that turned him on, also turned out to be everything he loved about you.
your stupid big heart, your stupid big eyes when you say that you love him, your stupid smile when he used to kiss you and hold you and even now when he fucked you. touya todoroki was in love and in the worst possible way but he couldn’t say he regretted a single moment of it, not when you stayed true to him after all these months of being apart. you raised his child and you loved him all the same and a part of him is grateful that you never turned your back on him like everyone else he’s ever loved.
so the least he could do is make love to you, push his creamy cock into the depth of your core while kissing down your spine to watch you shudder oh so cutely. it’s messy and sloppy and the pair of you should feel nasty for the stench of sex in the air, lingering against your skin. but you don’t, how could you? not when love and adoration tingles in the air as well, it’s messy because of the unadulterated emotions you feel for one another— deep in vulnerability is where dabi grinds his cock slowly into you, hitting all the right places that make you scream his name into the night. makes him mumble incoherent praises against your bruised neck and squished cheeks as he lewdly licks a stripe up the column of your neck to behind your ear.
you gush around him and he grunts with ecstasy into your ear, tightening that knot in your stomach as you both step closer to your highs. “you like the way i fill this cunt up, huh? yeah? when i hold you like this, when i fuck you like this?” dabi mutters to you lewdly, holding onto his sanity by a thin thread as his own release sneaks up on him. “tell me you like it...fuck sweetness, please.”
“i love the way you fuck me touya, fuck! only you can make me feel this good,” you moan to appease him, bouncing back against his cock while his hips begin to stutter and your eyes begin to cross. it’s true, you love belonging to him, being able to bring him such pleasure and you know he feels the same way. the villain prods at your g-spot over and over again, stealing your breath away as he pulls you up and into your chest, changing the angle of his hips to bring you to the last hurdle. “baby—ohmygod—-touya! ‘m sososo close, don’t stop...don’t stop, gonna cum, give it to me, give it to me please!” you chant, eyes fluttering shut as you lean your head back against his shoulder and search for his hand, voice rising with every octave as you get closer and closer.
“fucking cum for me sweet girl, shit, cum all over this fucking cock.” dabi manages through gritted teeth, grasping your hand while the pace of his thrusts grow inconsistent.
that’s all that you need to hear before the damn breaks and arousal floods through your entire body courses through your veins. white dances behind your eyes in flashes as your release flushes out of your pussy and drips between touya’s balls, coating them in a layer your honeyed slick. you slump against your boyfriend, not able to mutter a word as you convulse in a silent scream and squeeze both his hand and cock alike.
gently, he pushes you down to the bed and pulls his cock from your intoxicating heat— his free hand clasps around his cock, palming himself towards a swift release. “yeah, oh fuck yeah, fuckin’ love you baby,” he cums on your back and your ass, thick, potent and milky seed landing on your flushed skin before he collapses beside you and exhaustion settles in his bones.
you black out for a few minutes after, fingers still intertwined but dabi manages to slip out long enough to retrieve a washcloth that's damp and warm to clean you both up with. you wake up just as he crawls back into bed with you, kissing your hairline while he makes himself comfortable. “almost thought i’d killed you for a second,” the villain jokes, slinging a loose arm over your bare waist and pulling you to lay on his chest.
“you couldn’t, even if you tried.” you counter sleepily, drawing star shapes on your boyfriend’s naked stomach. a comfortable silence sweeps over the room, despite the thoughts that linger on your mind. looking up at dabi, you notice him drifting off but still can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “why didn’t you ever come back?”
you feel dabi’s chest rise and fall with a deep sigh, fingers coming up to scratch at your scalp— something that used to help you to sleep when you were together before. “i was figuring out a way to get out of the league, to be with you and kori.” he says after some time, catching your eye as you give him a confused look. “shigaraki doesn’t know about her, i never told him. but i knew from the moment we found out about her, i didn’t want her to be a part of the life i’m involved in and knowing how the league works, they’d find a way to make use of her.”
you stay quiet, not knowing what to do with the new information and dabi’s reasoning for staying away for so long. on one hand you were grateful to him for keeping your daughter quiet and safe but part of you still wished he’d given you a sign to let you know it’d all be okay. grabbing your chin, he forces you to look up at him—passionate flames burning in his eyes. “i need you to trust me on this one sweetness, i promise nothin’ will happen to you nor kori. so long as i’m around.”
“pinky promise?” you ask him sweetly, feeling the truth to his words.
you hold up your pinky to the villain’s face, smiling through exhaustion as he rolls his eyes down at you. “pinky promise, babydoll. now get some shut eye, kay?” touya links your pinky with his, scoffing when you make him kiss them.
“g’night, touya.”
“sleep well, babydoll.”
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the bed is cold when you wake up the next morning.
the panic sets in quickly, speeding up with the chirping of birds from your balcony outside. you shouldn’t be tearing up over the childishness of a pinky promise. he always made you promises but never actually kept the and as quickly as dabi had waltzed back into your life, he had left you alone and in the cold once more.
gathering yourself together, you stumble out of your bed— avoiding any mirrors that may show the cascade of marks dabi had left against your skin from the previous night. you feel embarrassed and ashamed that you let him back into your life so easily, especially now that you had kori to think about. tears start to well in your tired and puffy eyes as you head to the kitchen, thinking that a mug of coffee will calm you down before you prep your daughter for the day.
but as you wander out of your room, the familiar sound of your baby girl’s laugher drifts through the air— seemingly coming from the kitchen.  the sweet melody calls out to you and suddenly your casual stride to the kitchen becomes a brisk walk so you can reach her faster. “kori? baby? did you climb out of your crib again—?” you call out to her, stopping in your tracks when you round the corner.
dabi stands in the middle of your kitchen, still shirtless, with kori balanced on his hip— in one hand he holds a small blue flame, which you’re sure he believes is safe enough for kori to play with while the other steadies your baby girl while she claps and squeals. a first. you’re not too sure when the last time you’d seen her happy was, but you figure her father’s presence had something to do with it.
“i was going to make you breakfast, but the little shit woke up and i didn’t have enough free hands to make you a grilled cheese.” touya smirks over at you, diminishing his flame to grasp kori’s hand and use it to wave at you. she squeals happily, curls bouncing and eyes lighting up in a similar way to her father’s. your heart melts at the sight of them being together, seeing the mannerisms that they share and how joyous they seem. they both grinned the same way, shared the little twitch in their noses and even their sneezes. kori todoroki was an exact replica of touya todoroki, right down to the tiny red curl she had lost in her white locks.
“you know, i thought you’d left,” you make your way across to the island where dabi sets his daughter down and check her temperature— just in case her sudden change in mood is down to any sickness. “the bed was cold when i woke up.”
“didn’t i make you a promise last night, sweetness? i’m not going anywhere,” the arsonist reminds you, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you wipe at kori’s pudgy baby cheeks and give her the once over again. “if you’re checking the kid’s temperature, she's usually pretty cold because of my mom’s quirk. something ice related will be coming through, but she must’ve inherited your strong constitution. guess she has a normal body temp when i’m around ‘cause it balances her out.” while dabi explains the inner workings of kori’s incoming quirk, she claps and babbles excitedly from her place on the island— making a game out of throwing her toys off of it. all of dabi’s logic makes sense and you seem a little more relieved knowing how to take care of her from here.
picking her up, along with her stray toys, you set your baby down by her playmat again and switch on some baby-safe cartoons while you fix yourself and dabi some coffee, kissing all over kori’s face beforehand. he had whined when you pulled away the first time to give your daughter some attention, it was almost comical how the big bad villain had pouted then. “i wonder if there’s anything of mine she inherited or if it’s all you and todoroki genetics.”
“well, her pretty smile certainly didn’t come from me, babydoll.” dabi muses with a light chuckle, arms trapping you against his chest once more as you continue to make you both some much needed caffeine. the coffee machine whirrs as you sway together in the early morning sunshine, warmth from the sun brushing against your skin and touya’s hair tickling your neck before he presses kisses over your fading love bites while kori’s annoying shows play in the background. everything feels complete and at peace. you feel like a real family. “i could get used to this, this life with you.”
you spin in dabi’s arms, cupping his cheeks and taking in his face for the millionth time in the last twelve hours. “then stay, or at least visit some more now that you’re back. you may not feel it, but kori and i need you. everything has always been better when you’ve been around touya… and i mean that. stay.” you stare at him with pleading eyes, standing on your tiptoes to stare him down and communicate just how much you needed him here with you both.
and for once in his life, touya todoroki feels the most loved he’s ever really felt. here in this shitty two bedroom apartment with his angelic little girl and his beautiful girlfriend during the winter season— touya knows this is right where he needs to be. “i’ll stay, for as long as you’ll fuckin’ have me.”
“forever, then?” you ask, eyes lowering to your boyfriend’s lips.
“forever it is, babydoll.” the villain nods, following your gaze before leaning down to capture your lips with a promise written into your sweet kiss.
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extended ending
you thought that the best kind of weather was when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds but the air around you was still as cold as a december’s day. the breeze is enough to make your nose run just a little, but occasionally the warmth of the sun’s rays radiates across your skin like a warm blanket, balancing it out.
it was the kind of weather where people didn’t know how to dress, some wore mismatched shorts and jerseys whilst others were decked out in scarves up to their cheeks and sandals where their toes flopped out. it was the kind of weather that reminded you of dabi and kori, they were your warmth and your cold, they balanced each other out and made your family whole.
kori sits on your right hip as you push the car door closed and wave goodbye to an accomplice of your boyfriend’s— your driver for the evening. your little girl’s curls are combed back into two even pigtails, dark blue bows in each one while the red lock of her hair ( now, much longer ) curls against her forehead stubbornly. she looks so pretty, all fancied up a dress that dabi had chosen for her on this particular occasion, the lace irritated her only slightly but the decapitated endeavour plushie her father had gifted her served nicely as a distraction.
you bounce her once, cooing down at your baby before you look to the hospital in front of you— a look of determination in your eye. ever since the night touya had visited you and swore to stay, he’d kept his word to the best of his abilities. being a villain was still a major factor in your relationship, he came when he could stayed if his job permitted it— taking care of your daughter when your shifts were long and even going as far as to learn his and kori’s favourite recipes to cook on the nights where you couldn’t or you didn’t fancy take out.
in the last few weeks his visits had become slightly more scarce with shigaraki becoming more and more demanding, but touya’s plan to leave the league was slowly coming to fruition along with endeavour and the hero society which had both carved a life of struggle for the three of you.
your boyfriend being busy had given you more time to reconnect with the friends you had lost over the last year, meeting up with those from college, mina and tsuyu ( who’d simply thought you’d gone off the radar ) for kori’s first birthday. they absolutely loved her and your sweet girl loved all the attention she was getting. you even had the chance to reunite with your parents, who were more remorseful that you felt you couldn’t come to them for help than the fact that you’d gotten pregnant during college.
of course, they all asked who the father was and you simply told them that he had died ( which was half true ), using the excuse that you were embarrassed to be widowed and with a child at your young age.
shaking your head, you enter the hospital and recite the words that touya had made you practice the night before. you were here by endeavours orders and needed to see mrs.todoroki. your lover had used some sort of hack to put you on the list of visitors for his mother but one look at kori was all the guards and staff needed to let you through. a few nights prior to today, dabi had asked you to do one thing for him before it all went down, kissing your knuckles over some sushi take out.
so despite your nerves, you would go through with this for him, especially if it meant your family could be together. some guards escort yourself and kori to rei todoroki’s room, leaving you with a curt nod and slightly more polite wave to your daughter. the room itself is slightly bleak, a chair and some blue cushioned sofas positioned in an L-shape parallel to the blanketed bed. there’s a tv in the top left corner which and a set of draws underneath where a clear vase sits— containing blooming blue flowers.
rei looks up when you enter, grey eyes flashing with confusion despite the blank look on her face as kori babbles happily in your arms. “who are you?” she whispers, hands retreating from her flowers and  folding neatly in her lap.
“oh! i’m yn, your son’s fiancé and this,” you beam kindly, further entering the room and being sure to lock the doors behind you. you nod your head down to your daughter who waves around her endeavour plushy— paying no mind to the situation unfolding. “this is our daughter, your granddaughter...kori todoroki! she’s just turned one and daddy thought it was about time she met you, isn’t that right pretty girl?”
“dada!!!”
rei blinks and you smile again. “she’s a daddy’s girl,” you explain and lift your hand to snow the small sapphire engagement ring on your ring finger. touya had proposed last night as well, certain your plan would work out. “and quite frankly, so am i! how can i not be when your son treats me so well.”
nodding slowly, the wife of endeavour looks down at her hands which you note, nervously fiddle with a stray petal. “so, natsu and you—?” you can see her trying to work it out, curiosity written across her features. you could see why the woman might think kori was natuso’s child— they looked a lot like each other just by first glance but rei was missing an important feature. the colour of kori’s eyes.
“oh no, your other son. the eldest one.” you correct her with a sinister shake of your head. swiftly crossing the room to set your daughter down in rei’s lap. you watch with an evil air of satisfaction as rei todoroki freezes with fear, as the mistakes her family paid out to touya suddenly come to the forefront of her mind. she wobbles with kori still in her grip and you shoot her a dark glare— reaching over to fix her flowers in their vase. “touya picked these out, always said that you loved them. such a pretty shade of blue, no wonder why they’re your favourites, right?”
“please leave.” she looks up at you pleadingly, shaking like a leaf in the breeze outside. oh how you wish your fiancé was here to see this but he had more important things to do.
rolling your eyes, you grab the remote to switch on the tv— pinching kori’s nose affectionately to make her laugh again. “come sit with me rei, let’s watch some tv to help you calm down.”
the woman nods weakly, barely moving an inch as you take a seat beside her with a smile. you skip channels a few times, pride swelling up in your chest when you finally land on the right one, touya’s broadcast flashing across the screen. he sits leisurely in a chair, shirtless with all of his beautiful scars on display— a painful reminder of his childhood and what he’d become. “i, touya  todoroki, was born as the eldest son of endeavour. today i’ve killed over 30 innocent people until now, some to protect my family. my daughter, who i have not been able to see due to my father. i would like to let everyone know why i’d end up committing such a hideous act.” he speaks such calmness and clarity, and you can’t help but feel emotional at how he stands in front of the world.
kori grins, leaping up at the sight of her father on the screen and claps her hands. “dada!! dada!! lookie s’daddy!!” she squeals while rei struggles to breathe, panic set in her eyes.
you put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, offering her a sweet grin in an attempt to calm her before the oncoming storm. “keep watching, mrs.todoroki, touya said we’d be one big, happy family after this.” the words are sugar coated and sickly sweet, carrying the dark meaning across to your fiancé’s mother.
looking away, your heart swells while touya tears down the hero society and spills the truth for all of japan to see. you were grateful to the man he’d become— loyal to you, to your daughter and the dreams that you had. the satisfaction of seeing the real villains of the world fall was much greater than any hush money enji todoroki could ever offer.
fin.
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— TAGLIST:
@husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @grace-todoroki @toshiuwu  @whet-ones-write​
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americasass91 · 3 years
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The Shield and the Sweater
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Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18​ asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘
General prompts:
8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.
Dialogue prompts:
3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”
11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”
Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)
Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)
Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is
“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”
Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.
Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.
You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.
With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”
A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”
He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”
You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”
“Oh, it’s more than a-“
Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”
You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”
He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”
You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”
He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.
It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.
You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.
Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.
But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?
Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.
That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.
The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.  
It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.
So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.
Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.
So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.
You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”
You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”
She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”
You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”
“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”
Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.
You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”
He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”
He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”
You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”
Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”
Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”
You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”
Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.
Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”
Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”
You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”
��😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈
Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.
You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.
Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.
About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.
She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”
You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”
“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”
You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.
It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?
You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.
Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”
Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”
He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”
Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”
The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.
“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”
You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”
“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.
Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.
“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”
He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”
You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.
“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”
He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.
Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.
“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?
“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”
Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?
Yes.
Yes it was.
“Let me just go grab my purse.”
Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”
Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”
You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”
They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.
“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”
“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”
You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”
Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”
You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”
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Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”
You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”
Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”
You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”
She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”
You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”
“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”
“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”
“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”
“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”
You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.
Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”
He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”
You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.
“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”
You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”
He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.
You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.
And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.
You pull out your phone and send a quick text.
To: Fuckboi
You busy tonight? I could really use a release.
The reply came almost immediately.
From: Fuckboi
Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.
You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.
The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.
You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”
A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”
You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”
His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”
Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.
He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”
Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.
You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”
You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.
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You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.
Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”
You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”
You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”
He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”
You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”
That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”
You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”
“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”
You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”
You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”
Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”
“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”
Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.
Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”
You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”
The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”
😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈
Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.
You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”
Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”
With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.
You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.
You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.
As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.
Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.
After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.
Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.
You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.
Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.
“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”
You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”
He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.
You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”
You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”
He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”
He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”
You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”
He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”
You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”
You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”
He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”
You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”
He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.
You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.
After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”
He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.
Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.
Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.
Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”
Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”
Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”
You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.
Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.
Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.
That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”
You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”
Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.
It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.
It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.
You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.
Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”
You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”
Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”
Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”
You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.
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You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.
You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.
“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”
You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”
Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”
“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”
“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”
What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?
“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”
Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”
Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”
You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”
Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”
You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”
He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”
Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”
You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”
He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”
He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”
Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.
Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?
Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”
Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”
You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”
Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​
Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo​
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jjkpls · 3 years
Text
the wishlist (m) - 2
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“Since when do we buy each other sextoys?”
> genre : light angst, fluff
> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)
> words : 5k
> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; chaotic oc; clueless koo
previous - next
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It all starts with the first box and the vague memory of a warm touch on your face.
When you wake up that morning, groggy from exhaustion and the sensation of having spent the night waking up, again and again, you sense something. You struggle to point out if you’ve dreamt or if it really happened, but there’s the lingering of a warm hand's trace, cupping your cheek, soothing the stress lines on your forehead, and softly brushing your hair back from your face. You can’t tell if it’s happened but it left a lovely sensation both on your skin and heart. 
You get up and out of bed, slowly stroll to your living room with a lazy hand raising to your head, meaning to scratch at the snake nest you expect to be sitting on it. Instead, your fingers are met with a rather neat braid you definitely didn’t go to sleep with as you were too fucking done with this day to even try and deal with your tight bun -the very bun that elongated your time to fall asleep by at least a good half an hour. The same fingers that caressed your face took care of your hair and you know exactly to whom they belong. 
Of course, giddiness ensues and the mildly serious feeling of mortification -you despise the idea of not knowing in what state he found you, in what state of ugly, of dishevelled, of smelly. There’s no room for embarrassment in this friendship, not this kind anyway, fortunately or not, he’s seen you at your worst (at a time when you didn’t care much if he did or not) so it counters, always a bit, the shame.
He hasn't left your side yet, has he? And he’s exposing himself to this face of yours, so why should you feel bad about it? He sneaks into your apartment at night just to brush your face and bring the covers up to your chin, tuck you nicely in as if he’s your mom or something, so why should you care. He doesn’t seem to mind. He never seems to mind. He’s the best of friends. The best of all the people you know and the best of your friends. 
And of course, naturally fitting this role, you’d find the morning of Christmas, a mysterious box you’ve never seen before sitting on your coffee table. 
The girls, your friends, have presents for you, you know they do, but yesterday you were working and couldn’t see them, therefore, the little celebration was reported and you didn’t expect, you wouldn’t expect them to come at night or early in the morning to bring you your gifts. It can wait (so they decided). 
But Jungkook is sweet like no one else is. 
And he came to wish you a merry Christmas even if you were too tired to wish him back and he left a present for you. 
There’s not a name attached to it but it’s obvious it comes from him. There’s just a post-it he stole from your desk, with a Merry Christmas written on it, the lines of the letters, round and neat, you’d recognize from any other lettering and a bunny with teeth as big as the eyes smiling at you, drawn next to it. 
The box is so pretty, you feel an actual pressure thinking about opening it, as if there is a certain way, a proper way, to go about it. 
And apparently, there is. You go wash your face and rinse your mouth, prepare yourself one of your good teas, tear the curtain wide open and slowly, almost ceremoniously, take a seat on the ground, right in front of it.
The box is neat. You don’t know what’s inside, probably a perfume or some kit for the bath you’d assume, but you already know that whatever is inside, even if it’s not of your liking -which is impossible, it comes from Jungkook-, will be balanced out by the appearance of this perfectly elegant, tasteful box that you’ll use again to stock anything, maybe your face masks, maybe nothing -it’ll just sit, looking good on a shelf. 
It’s a pastel blue, with a black rose drawn on top of it, the icon to a brand you absolutely don’t recognize. With fingers trembling with excitement you drag the box to yourself, it’s mildly heavy, for some reasons, it gives you a little rush of anxiety. There’s just a tiny black ribbon holding the box firmly closed. A tiny pull on it and it slips open. 
Slowly you lift the lid, a grin already plastered on your face, hurting your cheeks. You expect a blinding magical light to come out of it, with the sound of bells ringing near your ears and sense to suddenly knock into you as you’d understand what wondrous present is in front of you.
But none of it comes. There's just a thing hidden inside a black satin bag.
It’s not a perfume nor a bath kit and you’re confused.
A bit scared.
Honestly, maybe a little shameful part of you has guessed it. But the louder yet weaker rest of you can’t see it. It would be too... ludicrous. And wouldn’t make sense, would it? You’ve never actually seen any in real life so how would you know what the packaging would look like and how would you come to this conclusion now? And how, why, how would he, Jeon Jungkook, come about to offer you this?
Doesn’t make any sense. 
But somehow, when you pick up the courage to open the little bag and drag the object out of it, you hardly even gasp in surprise when you discover a dildo. You just let it drop to the table, thumping loudly the fake wood. 
Why did you guess it to be that and why did he get you this shit?
Scorching red seize your face and your whole being.
You are infuriated.
How dares he? You are mortified.  How dares he?
What does this fucking mean? 
A joke?
Is it a joke?
If it a joke then what’s the fucking point? It’s not fucking funny. It’s weird as hell and you can’t believe he came in the middle of the night, pretending to be Santa to leave you a fucking kidding present as if your miserable life needed that. 
And if it’s not then what the actual fuck? Does he think you’re that desperate? Does he have really no notion of boundaries?
Conveniently your phone lays centimetres away from the offending thing, you don’t even need to get up to grab it and therefore, you start looking furiously for his name in your recent call list. After only two rings as if he was just expecting your call, his bright hello reaches your ear. 
“What the actual fuck, Jeon?” He must hear the madness in your voice, both the anger and the hysteria. There’s a pause during which he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a sound and you even check your screen to make sure he hasn’t hung up on you. 
“That’s- not- the reaction I expected.” He sounds sheepish. Mumbled words, lisped syllables, long pauses. 
“What did you expect?” You yell a bit, you can just picture him, dragging the phone out of earshot and winding, the same way you do when your mom who doesn’t get the concept of telephone screams in it each time she calls you. The realization hits you, that in your quiet little apartment, in this (for once) quiet morning, you are screeching like a banshee. You quiet down instantly, some of the anger soothed down by embarrassment. “Are you insane?” You whisper in his ear and comically, he starts whispering too, with the same alterations to his usually bright and open tone. 
“M’not. I just- you said that’s what you wanted so I got it for you.”
Now he’s making stuff up and blaming this insanity on you and that serves to raise a bit more the bar of anger -along with the loudness of your voice, “When have I ever said that I wanted a-“ You choke on your own saliva once your brain realizes that you’re supposed to say the word, out loud, to him. In an angry whisper, as if someone, your mother, for example, could be listening “fucking dildo!” You blush furiously at that and it’s ridiculous. Probably the reason why you didn’t own one in the first place and maybe shouldn’t yet. Because you’re a grown-ass woman of a quarter of a century, living alone and admittedly independent and responsible for your own existence, but you can’t even say the word “dildo” out loud to this asshole of a friend who apparently, and that’s new news, doesn’t have an issue talking about sex and everything related to it with you. 
“Y-you said-“ There’s a pregnant pause. You can’t know for sure since you’re not seeing him if he’s faking it or not but he sounds confused as hell. Like he genuinely doesn’t understand what’s wrong. Moron. “You said you wanted sex but not a boyfriend so I thought- it’s pretty much- it’s exactly what it is. Why are you so mad?”
The question in itself serves to drag you a little further over the edge. So much so, it clogs your brain with anguish and leaves you unable to give him an answer.
When he’s starting to talk again, maybe ask again his question, you just hung up, slamming your phone down on the carpet. 
You hear it vibrate to life twice before it shuts down completely. Good. At least he knows you well enough, still, to assume rightfully so that you won’t pick up his calls anymore. Not today.
You just have the time to pack the dildo back in its bag and inside its box, throw away your tea that tastes unbearably bitter and maniacally scrub your face in an attempt to get rid of the red patches that don’t want to fucking leave before the telling high beeps of your front door’s digital lock alert you. Your face is soaking in cold water, another attempt to cool it, your face and your troubled mind.
You mean to ignore him. Dipping your head further in the filled up sink, closing your eyes tight shut hoping somehow it’ll help you push aside the calls of your name better.
For a few seconds, it works. You can’t hear him anymore. You wonder if the furious pleas you were chanting in your head could have been loud enough to make the sound of the door slamming behind him as he would have left, completely quiet.
He’s such a try-hard. You hung up on him because he’s saying batshit crazy things and his first reflex is to barge in your house again. You really need to change your lock and not tell him. You can do that. You’re an adult and you have the right to your own fucking place. It’s not a fucking benevolent stay in, for fuck's sake. 
The cold water really seems to work. You feel better, light-headed, coming down after the earlier hysteria. And knowing that he’s left and won’t pursue this mess any further, for now, surely helps a lot. 
Except it doesn’t last for, as soon as your face leaves the water, your hands reaching clumsily for a towel that falls magically in them, one wipe at your eyes and your worst nightmare is standing right in front of you. 
“Fucking- Jungkook!” Burying your face back in the towel, drying your face as much as possible, maybe even trying for a second to suffocate yourself, you wish vainly that when you’ll take it off he would have disappeared.
He is still here though. Watching with dark eyes and a straight severe line replacing the cute button he owns for a mouth, he looks awfully serious for a guy that’s never really serious. Your towel ends up centimetres away from his face, he catches it right before it touches him. You hoped it would blind and confuse him momentarily, long enough for you to escape but of course, this guy would never miss a shot, even a surprise one. 
“Why are you like this?” He asks when you try and push him from the ribs, out of the door frame. You hate that you think about it. About his chest being so hard and warm and his fucking smell of sweat that you’d recognize amongst any others (pretty easily as any other makes you gag and this one, probably because you’re a primary animal guided by hormones, leaves you dizzy and wanting). He doesn’t budge until he decides to, mercilessly stepping aside to let you through. Because you’re an idiot, you don’t think and head for the living room and it’s only once you’re there, very aware of his steps following you, that the devilish object of your discord is right fucking there, obnoxiously sitting on the middle of your coffee table. You groan and squeeze your eyes tight.
What meditation technique, an extra effective one, could you use right now before you definitely lose it and throw yourself out the window?
Before you find one, you end up clinging to the opposite wall, forehead pressed to it, back to him, in a vain attempt to suppress yourself from the situation. You might look a little insane or at best, somehow on edge, but who cares at this point?
“Jungkook, if I don’t pick up your call, do you think I want to see your face?” 
“But why though?” His tone is still harsher than usual. You notice it and you notice you don’t hate it either. What a little bitch you are. If you like his usual self, with the bright smile, soft words, boisterous laugh, dainty manners, you can’t deny that this rougher version of him, genuinely pissed off as you’ve never seen him, tickles your fancy. You’re fucked. “Seriously these days you- you’re such-“
“I’m what?” You bark, swirling on your feet, expression distorted by an offence he hasn’t even made yet. You completed the sentence he’s never finished with terrible words that you’ve never heard him use talking about anyone: bitch, hysterical, cunt. 
“You’re trying to pick a fight with me all the fucking time, I don’t get it!”
Now you feel terrible. You’re still bothered by the raw edges of his tone, it’s literally sending electric shocks to your lower tummy. But his eyebrows have dropped and his fiery dark eyes have turned shiny and sad, your heart hurts in your bosom.
Ugh.
You’re such a bitch. 
“I’m sorry. I know I’m insufferable. I’m on my period. Sorry.” You send a mental apology to womanhood. You're just an idiot lacking imagination. 
Jungkook frowns, his eyebrows dancing in all kind of ways, before they settle for an, unfortunately for you, attractive finale, one straight down, one tilt up. He stares at you, dubious. 
“For three weeks. You’ve been on your period for three weeks.”
The first thing you take notes of is the fact that he dated it way shorter than you would have. Honestly, you found yourself becoming a weirdo with inappropriate feelings that reindeer you into an asshole for at least a month and a half. Before that, it was extremely tamed, totally under control. You’d just notice his handsome face and cute smiles and nice smell, thinking “oh yeah that’s right. He’s kinda attractive. How funny I never really noticed.” And slowly it progressed to not being able to handle him touching you without having something close to a panic attack.
The second thing you note is that he doesn’t believe you. His stare is insistent, turns a bit dark as he lingers, studying your own eyes with judgment in his. He’s frowning even more, looks down at the floor and sighs so deep, heartbreakingly so. He looks hurt that you’re lying and don’t want to share what's really been up with you. If only you could be a better liar. 
“It happens sometimes, all women are diff-“ 
He just sat down on your sofa, eyes fixed on the blue box. Before you can finish your sentence, he sends you a glare that awfully looks like a threat. You shut up. He doesn’t believe you anyway. He knows you and your periods (sort of) way too well. He knows you’re in pain the first day, you’re a bit tender on the following ones and he takes it upon himself to be gentler and not try to play WWE with you on those but you don’t turn into a mean dragon. This much he knows for sure. 
There’s something he’s seeking for within the box. He’s grabbed it, holds it now in between his fingertips, piercing virtual holes into it. It’s probably the answer he didn’t find in your eyes. 
It makes you flush furiously. Seeing his pretty hands with his long fingers touching it. Here’s the reason, he would have caught it on your cheeks if he wasn’t so busy looking for it elsewhere. 
“I really thought that- you’d like it.” He sounds so saddened. You’re caught off guard. Again. So this present wasn’t meant to be a joke. It is a genuine one. It makes sense that he’s hurt then. You’re shitting all over his gift but how could you not? How could he believe that you could just accept that for a random gift? Slowly he makes the top of the box slide up, pout sucked in in concentration, dimple out. Your heart seems to stop at that. He’s not going to take it out, is he?
He can’t take it in his hands.
You’ll die if he takes it in his hands. 
Fortunately, he just opens the box, looks at the satin bag, looks at it with a pained expression as if he feels bad for the thing, then closes it back. 
“The woman at the shop said that it’s one of the best ones, for starters.” He sulks like a child. Bottom lip all plumped out, shiny eyes under curved eyebrows.
Jungkook looks up at you, ultimate sad puppy look on.
“She said the size and the texture were perfect if you’ve never used one before. It wouldn’t be too... what was that again?” He asks aloud as if you’d know. And you’re mortified. On behalf of him. The concept that he’s not embarrassed right now and that he went to an actual shop, browsed through the shelves and asked an actual saleswoman for help is absolutely insane. Unbelievable if it were not for the sincerity he’s dipped in. “And I picked blue because I know you like this colour. It matches your planner, doesn’t it?” He adds as if he’s not sure when obviously he knows.
It is surprisingly very close in shade. And so what? He expected you to love it so much, take fucking aesthetic pictures with it and your planner sitting on your fake marble desktop, next to Diego the succulent? What an idiot. And for how fucking long did he talk to that woman?
Silence hangs heavy between you. You watch as he scowls some more, mumbles under his breath while staring with despair at the box.
Slowly, resolute to be the better friend you have not successfully been these past weeks (months), you leave your protecting wall. Taking a seat on the carpet, on the opposite side of the table, you do your best to ignore the blue patch invading the bottom of your vision and try to give him the softest expression you can come up with at this moment. 
“Why are you so butthurt?”
His curiously perfect round eyes raise in a swift motion, pouty lips agape in a silent little gasp. 
“Sorry.” You apologize before he even gets to respond because, maybe, you could try harder to be good and nice to him. 
“Because it’s a present.” He starts at a very slow pace. He pauses between words like he’s addressing a dim, dim brain. And he might be honestly. But he’s one to talk. How can he not see an issue? “That I’ve looked for and bought for you. That’s why I’m butthurt, what do you mean?” 
“But- since when are we buying each other-“ You need to grow up. There’s no one else but him hearing you and since your last conversation about it, when he too was embarrassed, he’s able to say it just fine apparently. Still, you whisper the following, “sex toys?”
“Since you turned twenty-five and said you were interested in it.” His right-hand raises from the box to start flapping the air and you know it means bad news. He’s upset. When he needs his hands to further accompany his speech, it means he’s a bit too taken by the conversation. And in this case, you don’t feel like it’s a good idea for him to be. “When you were fourteen and into Legos, I bought you a set of Legos.”
Hardly makes sense. 
“You’re just going to pretend it’s a random present?”
“It’s not random. I put thought into it.” His eyes are digging up intensively in your own. It might be desperation that leads you to remain still, allow him to look. Hopefully, he won’t dig deep enough to find stuff he shouldn’t. “Why do you hate it? I thought- I don’t know- you’re a- flourished single woman and-“
Flourished? Really? The words don’t come out of your mouth but he reads them on your face and an adorable smile cracks open the mask of gravity.
“Jungkook.” You owe him an effort. Maybe you should look into why it requires an act of inhuman courage for you to admit your shame. It might be because if he were anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by the present for five seconds because clearly, you’re still half of a fucking child but soon enough, you’d probably be enchanted by the thing. Who doesn’t need a good sex toy? You definitely do. You thought about getting one for a long while but never got to it for some reasons and here’s one offered to you (in a very pretty shade of baby blue).
The thing is you don’t think about anyone sexually except for him (and his friend Jimin, once in a while, just by curiosity because the guy is a very sexual being). If you don’t even consider them in this light, you don’t have to think about them using it, do you? But he’s all you think about, unfortunately. And you’re friends. And it feels like one step closer to your fantasy while simultaneously one step closer to betrayal. And he certainly is not offering you this wishing for you to keep close in mind the fact that this is his. His present. He knows about it. Maybe can think of you using it and liking it without any further implications. Because obviously, it’s not like that for him. “It's awkward. How can you not see that.”
“Is it? What is?”
“First of all, we don’t- we- don’t even talk about... it. And suddenly you’re buying me- this?”
“Yeah, I realized that too!” It’s too much enthusiasm. Eyes too big and hands not leaving the air. You can already guess his next sentence. It’s probably going to be a terrible suggestion. “I talk about sex all the time with the guys,” Your eyebrows jump to your hairline at that. You’re not even that surprised but the formulation could probably be fixed. “and you talk about it with your girls, right? But we’ve known each other the longest and we never talk about it. Isn’t it fucked up?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’-”
“Well, I would. I am.”
“Don’t you- don’t you see that you’re a boy and coincidentally you can easily talk about it with the guys who happen to be boys and I am a girl, right? And I-“ Who would have thought? It took you fifteen years to finally be giving him the beginning of the talk about the birds and the bees. You would have given it to him sooner if you’d have known how far behind he’s been. 
“But what if I need girl advice-“
“I’m sure Jimin knows a whole lot about girls, Jeon.”
“From a girl point of view. Real girl advice.”
“Jungkook-“
“If I ask what the G spot exactly feels like, what-“
“Jungkook!” 
He’s amused, the fucker. He’s not as clueless as he sounds. But the crooked grin on his face is too telling. He might just be messing with you. Usually, when he’s just playing he wouldn’t insist so much, he wouldn’t take the conversation this far so surely, there are some genuine intentions. However, he's still having way too much fun.
With his frowned nose, and squinting shiny orbs and stupid bunny teeth. 
“You’re just embarrassed, aren’t you?” You might have terribly loud red streaks painting your cheeks that you try naively to cover with your hands. He can see it all and silently, he nods his head, looking like he’s reached the final touch of his experiment. “How? What happened to the teenage girl who spent her nights writing dirty stories about Harry Styles?”
Horror.
How the fuck-
“How the fuck do you know about that?”
“You showed me!” He defends, hands high above in the air like a soccer player claiming innocence. “You did! You don’t remember?” No, you don’t. But you can tell he’s not lying. Apparently, young you was quite the fearless bitch.
What happened indeed? 
Years happened. A growing sense of self-preservation along with them. Undesired feelings for an idiot with a bunny smile. An inappropriate sense of shame along with those. 
“Anyway. So it’s a bribe for girl advice?” You ask, chin pointing to the box. Jungkook looks down on it, drums his fingertips lightly on the top before he looks up, beaming. 
“Sort of.” Shrugging, he adds with a shifty eye that telltales a certain vulnerable sincerity. “I just wish for us to be able to share everything. Be comfortable like before.”
“Before what?” He stares for a long time, mouth shut. He then blinks the moment away and for the first time, you might believe ever, Jungkook looks like he might have a secret too. 
“Just before. Back in the days, I mean.” He simply explains. His attention is back on the stupid box. He’s staring at the rose on top of it. Fingers playing with the corner of it. 
“Back in your old days.”
“You’re older than me. So you really don’t want it?” Here he comes again with the sad puppy face. Why would it be breaking his dumb little heart to refuse a dildo from him? What kind of insane parallel universe is this? “Is it like a 'men are fine but little Jeon Jungkookie still has cooties so I can’t accept his present, it’s gross'?” 
“Something like that.”
“Oh.” Defeated, he sighs. Another one of those soul-harming sighs. “Fine. I’ll get it refunded and you’ll buy yourself something else with the money then.” 
Is he really going to make you do that?
As if the question is even to be raised. He can make you do anything. 
“No, Guk, sorry. It’s fine. Sorry.” You start, hands clasping over the box you drag your side of the table. The only way you can do it is if you don’t actively think about what’s inside. “I’ll keep it. Sorry.”
“So you kind of want it?” He is grinning from one ear to the other. You can feel him giddy and excited, kind of jumpy on his seat and really, you don’t see any difference with the excitement he portrays each time he gets you any kind of presents and you tell him that you like it. 
“I won’t use it.” It’s almost a threat. Eyes squinted in severe slits, index finger millimetres away from poking his eye. “It’s a gift so I won’t make you get a refund, that’s rude but- I won’t use it.” After a second of seemingly deep reflection, he breaks out in his loud, annoying boyish laughter. Eyes watery at the corners and hands clapping like a stupid seal. “I’m serious!”
“Sure.” He’s still cackling, the idiot. “But you should. The lady said it’s a best seller too.” 
“Great. I don’t care.” 
He has his eyebrows high, a twitch in his wide grin, and the amused black orbs. He doesn’t believe you one bit. “Course, you don’t.”
The idea that he sincerely expects you to use it might drive your delusional brain for a loop. He just wants to be the best gift-giver, the best Santa, and wants you to make good use of whatever he's got you. But how can he not consider that you could not use something like that, to pleasure yourself, when it’s directly related to him, your best friend? It’s weird as hell. It can’t be just weird to you. 
Unfortunately, there’s no one you can come up with the question to have them agree with you. You already know what the girls will say. They’re even worse than you when it comes to Jeon Jungkook and your ambiguous (on your side solely) friendship. They’ll say the ship is sailed and start buying themselves bridesmaid matching dresses.
They don’t understand. It’s not like they’ve grown up with someone like him. Someone rather simple, authentic and kind, so much so, so much more than most people, that it turns him complicated because so different from other humans you can meet. There’s nothing to be read in between the lines with him. It’s always lovingly honest, blatant, generous.
He doesn’t mean anything else behind the gift besides a “have a good one!”. 
And you didn’t mean anything else but the truth when you said you wouldn’t use it. 
At the moment, anyway, you meant it.
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A/N: hoping it makes sense and is not too raw, edited it at midnight TT; may i manifest a sugar daddy that would pay me to stay home and write fanfiction for you guys all day :). i really hope you like it, and hope also that you can handle the secondhand embarrassement because even i struggled. let me know what you think of the series so far, sending everyone reading this an infinite amount of virtual kisses and hugs, take care of yourself, love yourself and others a lot, BYEE.
tag list: @moon-asia​ @btstrasht​ @jkbangtan7​ @taehugger​ @kaepjjangiya​ @daggerbeneathmygown​ @cuteipat​  @jinsalpaca​
PLEASE ASK TO BE TAGGED IN THE COMMENT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! TY <3
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iamjungkooked · 4 years
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Mr. Min
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↳Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader
↳Genre: Romance (all fluff)
↳Word count: 4.7K
↳Rating: G
↳Warnings: None
↳Summary:
Min Yoongi is the asshole boss who keeps you late at work every night. But then you find out why and it gives you the upper hand.
A/N: I hope you guys like it!! Finally wrote something less than 5k. It has been a while for sure. Cross posting this from my other blog @iamtaekooked​. You guys have been following me on here even though i am like never on here its crazy. I LOVE YOU ALL. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I AM GOING TO TRY POSTING MORE IF MY LIFE LETS ME.
Your hand begins cramping as you finish writing the report for asshole number one Min Yoongi. Writing a report is easy, but having to write it by hand is what makes you want to strangle him. The tiny blue desk clock strikes 11 pm and once again you lose out on the opportunity to live your life. At this point, you have lost track of how many times you have stayed late at the office while your friends enjoy their weekends with dinners, movies and activities. Sometimes it’s so bad that you video call them just as you’re about to drift off to sleep.
You don’t even bother to hope to go home early anymore. Min Yoongi always finds ways to make you stay late with him. You went through the five stages of grief at first because you felt your life was being taken away from you. You even thought of threatening him with a lawsuit because he couldn’t make you work over 40 hours a week. When you did he was quick to turn the tables by offering you overtime pay-- and not a measly sum. It was money you couldn’t turn away. So, once again you let yourself fall prey to his actions.
Slowly but surely you began getting used to this so-called “routine”. Gradually, hours started fading into one another until one day you became so habituated with staying late (and to the mind-boggling pay) that Yoongi didn’t even have to come to your cubicle to hand you anything. You already asked him in the morning for your evening assignment. One would think this would be a hint for him-- but no. The man was as clueless as one could be.
Like any other night, you had an assignment, one which Yoongi labelled as important. But then again everything was important. Any task he assigned (or rather you asked for) he classified as important. You wondered if he understood what the word means because if everything is important then technically nothing is. Rather than ask him about it, which wasn’t necessary anyway you did what you were handsomely paid to do.
A sigh passed your dry lips. Once again you grabbed the pen and began writing-- this time going as fast as your wrist would allow. The ink flowed from the pen to the paper in black scribbles, hardly understandable. But you could not bring yourself to care. He would have to deal with it, and that was that.
Having written the last sentence, you capped the pen and pushed back the chair so you could go to his office. Your heels hurt from wearing six-inch pumps all day. No less would do because turns out asshole Min Yoongi had made that provision because apparently, it looked “more professional”. While walking to his office you just imagined torturing him in your mind by making him wear these fucking heels. It was slightly comical imagery but also satisfying, so much so that you could not help yourself from smiling.
You knocked on the opaque glass door as you reached his office. It was customary for you to knock once and for him to not answer. Normally you would slide the documents or whatever is needed under the door because Yoongi had specifically requested he not be disturbed. But something prompted you to stick your head against the glass door and peer inside through the clear margins. You couldn’t see anything so despite Yoongi’s “request” you turned the knob, opened the door slightly and peeked your head inside. The scene in front of you however was not quite something you were expecting.
Min Yoongi was laying back against his very comfortable looking plush leather rotating chair, with his headphones on, legs resting on top of the table and his eyes fixed with a concentration on his laptop. There were empty boxes of takeout at his desk and the whole image conveyed to you that he hadn’t actually done any work. It was an inkling, which means you could be wrong. But you would be damned if you didn’t make your presence known.
You walked inside, standing halfway between him and the door and cleared your throat as loud as you could. There was no response as expected. You walked a few steps and stopped just short of his desk, yet he still did not notice you. You looked at the report in your hand and threw it on his desk, which landed with a thud. He jumped, and finally looked at you. It took a second but the realization dawned on him. His eyes bulged like he had been caught red-handed and you noticed his adam’s apple bob as he gulped hard.
He hastily took off his earphones and straightened in his chair. “I thought I told you not to disturb me”
“I am sorry, did I ruin the fun?” your brows knit together.
“Do you have the report?” he asked instead.
You look at the papers on his desk and then back at him to make him aware of it sitting in front of his eyes.  
He fumbles with the papers and picks them up. While he’s busy scanning the papers you take in the state of his desk. One side is completely neat with all the binders and files organized, and the other is just filled with trash. As you’re busy studying the contents of his desk, you notice the name of your client’s company on one of the papers. Curiously you reach towards the file, Yoongi still busy reading your report. You scan the pages and realize without even having to read halfway through it that Yoongi had already finished the report and it was marked with yesterday’s date, which means he already sent it to the client.
“Do you care to explain this Mr. Min?” your fingers curl into a fist around the papers.
His eyes widen once more. “Oh shit” he mumbles-- a deer caught in the headlights expression on his face.
He sighs, dropping your report on the table. “Oh fuck” he rubs his forehead. “It’s nothing,” he says with a straight face just a moment after looking like he’d been caught.
“It looks like you already completed the report. Why did I have to do it if you already did it?”
“I wanted you to” he’s quick to reply.
“I am sorry Mr. Min but that is not a good enough explanation. I stayed here even though I did not have to. I find it unfair that I have to do work that has already been done-- and that too by you. I doubt you don’t trust yourself with work”
“That’s enough with the questions” he replied curtly.
“Wait a minute” you look back at the pile of papers on his desk and find a presentation he had asked you to make for him a week ago. However,  the date this presentation was printed was a week before that which means that once again he made you do something that had already been done. Sensing a pattern you decided to confront him right then and there.
“Pardon my french, but why the hell have I been doing work that had already been done?”
Yoongi sighed once more, but this time he sounded more defeated than the first. “Look, I can’t give you an explanation you will like. There isn’t one. But I’ll tell you the truth”
“Good” you fold your arms across your chest.
“You won’t like this either but I asked you to stay late because I wanted you to be here with me. I never got used to working late at night. Something about being alone always irked me, so I started keeping people around. It’s not right, I know” he’s quick to justify just as he noticed you opening your mouth to speak. “Trust me, I know. But then when Brian left and you joined, I knew that I needed you around. So I started asking you to stay late. Turns out, I liked your company more than I have liked anyone else’s so I even started paying you to stay late, which I have never done either” he finishes, The only problem is he doesn’t sound sincere enough. It’s like he’s telling you for the sake of telling you.
“I am sorry Mr. Min but you are not a child. I can’t be putting my life on hold just so you don’t have to be alone at night. Do you have any idea how many occasions and opportunities I have missed in my life because of this? I couldn’t attend my best friend’s graduation, I couldn’t be there for the birth of my nephew because I was here slaving away. To think it was for nothing is terrible. You should really say sorry” you glare at the man, demanding an apology you know you deserve because it doesn’t matter how much money you got paid. It won’t compensate for the memories you could have made.
He purses his lips. “I won’t” he shakes his head. “I know it’s wrong but I don’t say sorry”
You scoff. “You’re an asshole”
He shrugs as if your remark doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “Be that as it may. I did what I did because I like having you around. In fact, I did it because I like you and I am not ashamed of it”
Under normal circumstances, you probably would have been flattered and even blushed at having been confessed to. But these weren’t normal circumstances and on top of that, it was Min Yoongi.
“How about this-- you can go home early for all of next week” he offers.
It actually makes your blood boil because he thinks he’s being generous. But even if you gave him a wide berth, this wasn’t even cutting it close “All of next month actually” you counter, determined in your own way to make him apologize for his actions.
He considers it. A few beats of silence pass as both of you continue to stare at each other. “Fine” he agrees.
“Good.” you say shortly, before turning on your heels and heading towards the door.
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Yoongi ends up keeping his word for the whole of next month. If it were up to you, you would have asked him that you will never stay late. But after your anger had died down in a week or so, the rational part of your mind convinced you that the money was too good. And it was. So you didn’t try to extend it.
In that one month, however, Yoongi was being awfully generous towards you. You figured it was his way of making up for his actions.
After a week of your heated conversation with him, you found a bouquet of flowers at home addressed to your best friend. There was no name on it. It turned out you did not need a name, because one you knew whose handwriting it was and secondly, the apology was enough for you to know who they were from.
I am sorry y/n missed your graduation. I realize she should have been there with you and it is my fault she was not. I can’t turn back time but I hope these flowers and this small gift make up for it. Congratulations on your achievement.
Accompanying the flowers was a generous gift, one which could have only been given by Yoongi. A full spa weekend with your best friend. It was an all-inclusive offer.
It felt like he was bribing you to forgive him. But even if that were the case, you felt you deserved this and you would be damned if you let it go to waste. If this is how he wanted to apologize, then so be it. In a way, he was giving you the opportunity to spend quality time with Hana.
Hana was ecstatic. “Isn’t it sweet?” she said dreamily.
You couldn’t help but scoff. “It’s not sweet. It’s what he should be doing. Not this exact thing per se. But he needs to be making up for what he did and he is” you reminded her.
“Fine” Hana was quick to give up because even she knew not to argue.
To apologize, at the end of the month Yoongi also ends up giving you the biggest client. This one you feel conflicted about because you can’t discern his intention. So you do the only thing you can. You went charging to his office to demand an explanation.
Maybe he heard you coming but before you could even open your mouth after entering the room he was already speaking.
“I know,” he says as he gave you one glance before focusing on his laptop as he typed away. “I gave you a client because you deserve it. Trying to make up for troubling you is also part of it, but it’s mostly because you deserve it” he explains without sparing you another glance this time. “It just so happens Karla likes you and I think you can understand each other well as women. Not to mention you have great marketing skills that Karla’s company could use” he finishes speaking and the sound of keys clacking stops as well. He gives you his undivided attention. “So” he joins his fingers in a steeple, elbows resting on the desk. “What do you think?”
You don’t even give it a second of thought. “You made a good decision Mr. Min” corners of your lips curve in a smile.
“Of course I did” he reciprocates your smile. “I never make bad decisions” his smile grows into a knowing grin.
You catch the sarcastic play on words. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that”. Your gaze lingers on his a second longer before you nod and turn away to leave.
Just as you reach for the door, he speaks.
“Do your best”
You turn around and give him a curtsey nod. “You bet I will”
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You’re back to working late nights, but this time with Yoongi in his office on actual things that matter.
You and Yoongi have been working on a pitch for Karla’s company to convince them to change their branding. You work late hours into the night as usual. You flirt here and there, but nothing major happens as you both keep it professional(ish). There are a few laughs exchanged, a couple of longing gazes, moments so thick with tension you could practically taste it on your tongue.
You lean over to look at Yoongi’s list of ideas, but unknowingly invade his personal bubble-- that intimate zone only reserved for significant others/spouses. You get caught up in the moment as you look at him, and he looks at you. For a moment you think he’ll kiss you. But instead, he clears his throat. “I’ll be back” his voice is a whisper.
He gets up hurriedly and leaves, clearing his throat all the way to the door.
You watch his figure disappear behind the opaque glass door.
“Keep it professional” you chide yourself with a shake of the head.
You focus back on your notes, flipping through the pages trying to put a concept map together.
A draft of air hits you and you look in the direction to find Yoongi opening the door. He walks in a few feet, one hand hidden behind his back.
Curiosity piqued and you offer him an inquisitive look. “What are you hiding Mr. Min?”
Wordlessly, he brings his arm forward. In his hand is a bouquet of baby’s breath flowers.
“How did you-” you start.
“I know” he erases the distance between you as he stops just shy of invading your intimate space and holds out the flowers.
You reach for them. “Thank you. But how do you know I like these?”
“You said it” he mentions.
“I did?” you look at him puzzled.
“Two nights ago. We were talking about using florals to brighten up the aesthetic for Karla’s company and you mentioned baby’s breath is your favourite flower”
“ I don’t even remember saying that” you shake your head, almost in disbelief that he remembered. “You actually remembered?”
He nods. “I remember everything you say” he replies“ no matter how sharply you put it” he adds with a chuckle.
At a loss for words, all you can do is stare at the man filled with a foreign feeling.
“Thank you” you finally manage to say.
“You’re very welcome” his lips curve into a smile.
He returns to his seat while you place the flowers on his desk as gently as you can. Once he’s seated you take the opportunity to ask. “Mr. Min” you address him.
“Yeah” he looks at you in a way that makes your heart race faster.
“Why did you give me these?” it feels like the incessant urgent know has been satisfied and you feel relieved.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to” he looks down at the papers in front of him. A few moments of silence pass as you continue studying him while he keeps his gaze downcast. “An-anyway let's get back to it” he quickly changes the subject.
You nod. Under the dim lighting of his office, for the very first time you notice how handsome he looks. His skin looks like porcelain, his eyes glimmer with a hint of golden flecks around the irises. His lips look buttery soft. You bite back on your lip as you realize how much quicker you’re breathing.
“Is something wrong?” Yoongi questions as he looks up at you.
You vigourously shake your head. “I just— I am sorry”
“I caught you staring didn’t I?” he responds but it’s not really meant to be a question. “I don’t mind. I like the attention” he winks.
Your eyes widen. “I— I wasn’t” your attempt at denying it is futile and even you know it. But you have to at least attempt to save face.
“If it helps, I actually think it’s cute” his lips upturn in a playful smile.
You keep mum, considering there is nothing to say. Even though you don’t speak, the smile on your lips says everything Yoongi needs to know.
You hear him softly laughing and you can sense him just shaking his head. Then you hear something and you aren’t sure if you hear it right but it sounds an awful lot like “you’re cute miss y/n”
You end up spending another hour brainstorming ideas. After that last exchange between you, you thought you couldn’t concentrate. But you did. And once more you flirted a little, exchanged gazes, and avoid as hard as you can to pay no mind to the vibe between you.
“I think we should call it a night” Yoongi stretches his arms over his head with a groan. “You’re tired too”
“Okay” you start gathering all the papers into a pile.
“Don’t worry about this” he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’ll do it. Start getting your stuff together. I’ll drop you off”
“You don’t have to” you reply, the burdensome feeling coming on. “I can go home”
“Did I give you a choice?” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just because I got you these flowers, and that spa day and gave you Karla doesn’t mean you get to tell what I have or don’t have to do. Got it” he sounds a little stern, but in a way where he’s being thoughtful more than trying to be a jerk.
“Yes, Mr. Min” the meekness in your voice surprises you. As you stand in front of him you cannot understand what brings on this sudden submissive attitude. But you have already agreed and something tells you Mr. Min won’t take no for an answer.
“I’ll be right there” he motions to the door with his head, indicating that you should pack up.
“Okay” you pick up the bouquet and quietly walk out of his office.
The walk back to your desk is filled with mixed emotions. A fluttery feeling floats in your stomach, giving you the perception that your head is spinning. You almost stumble as you reach your desk. You realize you’re breathless as you grip onto the edges of the desk to steady yourself. “Shit. So much for keeping it professional” you mutter while you grab your bag. You sling it over your shoulder. You gather the flowers in your hand as you wait for Yoongi.
Moments later he’s coming out. “Ready?” he asks.
With a dry mouth and dizzying intoxication brought upon his presence all you do is nod.
“After you.” he says.
Maybe he isn’t an asshole after all.
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The sounds of crickets chirping in the silence of the night help shroud some of your thoughts. But not enough apparently because merely Yoongi’s presence is enough to send you in a tizzy. It’s maybe only been about five seconds since Yoongi stopped in front of your house but it sure feels like hours.
“Umm” you’re the first to break the silence. “Well, thank you for the ride an-and for these flowers”
“You’re welcome” comes his quiet voice.
You unlock the door, one foot already out of the door.
“Wait” his hand on your forearm stops you.
You turn to look at him. “Yeah?”
“I actually brought you these flowers because I was going to ask you on a date” he confesses.
“Oh” is all you can manage. You don’t know what else to say.
“So, will you…?” he sounds unsure as he says these words, almost like he himself doesn’t know.
He sounds sincere enough. But as it stands you have two choices: give in easily at which point you may as well give up any hope in future of asking him for anything. Or you could just play hard to get so he knows it won’t be easy.
“I’ll think about” confidence flows through your voice, and along with a coy smirk on your lips.
Yoongi’s previously solemn expression is replaced by a crooked smile. He studies you quietly, making you wonder what he’s thinking. “I’ll give you five minutes”
“No. If that’s how long you think it takes to figure out whether I want to give you a chance, then my answer is no”.
“Fine. How long do you want?”
“It’s not about long I want Mr. Min. It’s about how long you are willing to wait” and without hearing his response you exit the car.
All Yoongi can do is stare at you open-mouthed-- stunned and in utter disbelief.
You didn’t know Yoongi would wait for two whole months. You didn’t expect him to keep it professional between you either
You also didn’t expect Min Yoongi to come to your desk at 2 pm and ask you to look over the designs for one of your clients.
“You look lovely today y/n” he stops next to your desk, holding out a file for you.
“I always look lovely” you take the file from him, dismissing his compliment because you’re sure he’s just buttering you up into doing something for him. Not that you wouldn’t if he hadn’t said anything.
“I mean it” his voice softens as he recognizes your disbelief. “Blue looks good on you’” he motions to your blue blouse, and looks you straight in the eyes. He doesn’t even flinch-- which means he actually probably means it.
You certainly don’t regret picking it out anymore. “Thank you”
“You’re very welcome.” he adds with a smile that stretches into a grin. “Oh and can you look this over. Please and thank you”
“I will” you nod. “Question for you”
“Anything” he half sits on your desk as he awaits your ask.
“Did you come here to give me the file or to tell me I look good?”
“I came here to tell you, you look beautiful if what you’re after is my motive” the corners of his mouth turn up in a soft flirty smile.
“I am. But I’ll also look at this” you gesture to the file in your hand.
He acknowledges your response with a nod as he turns around and starts towards his office.
“Mr. Min” you call out and he turns around. “That suit looks great on you”
It takes him a second to comprehend your words, but as soon as he does, he’s back to smiling. “Thank you y/n”
Just as easily he struts away, just as easily everyone around you is stunned into silence. It looks like a comic scene as everyone looks at Yoongi’s retreating figure with mouth’s agape.
“Did he flirt with you?” one of your coworker’s peers over the divide between your cubicles.
You look up at him. “Yes he did”
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At 4 pm, you walk back to his office with your notes on the changes that should be made. You knock on the door once. He doesn’t answer so you take it as your cue to enter.
“Here are the notes” you hold out the file as you stop just in front of his desk.
“It’s already done?” Yoongi is forced to look up his work.
“Yes and yes”
“Okay. You can leave it on the desk” he goes back to his work.
You wait for him to catch on. But he doesn’t. So you start towards the door.
“Wait” he calls out. “Yes and Yes?”
You turn around, feeling giddy with anticipation.
“What’s the second yes for?” he looks at you puzzled.
“I guess you don’t want to go on that date anymore” you quirk a brow.
He closes his laptop and leans back in his chair. “Took you long enough”
“You reap what you sow Mr. Min”
“Is that right?” it’s rhetorical of course but you nod anyway.
He chuckles. “Let’s go “ he grabs his coat from the back of the chair and swings it around and on his shoulders.
You look at him puzzled. “Right now? What about work?”
“First, I am the boss so I make the rules and I say we go. Second, I made the mistake of offering you five minutes of time to make your decision. You really think I am going to give you a day or two for this date”
You can’t help but laugh. “In that case Mr. Min, let’s go”
He heads to the door first as you follow “After you” he opens it and you’re almost out of the door when he shuts the door. “Wait. I have to do something” he pulls you to himself, supporting you by the waist as he presses his lips to yours.
Maybe time stops when his lips meet yours. But the flutter in your stomach only intensifies. You feel weak in the knees. You hold onto the nape of Yoongi’s neck as your legs begin to tingle. Yoongi’s hands rest on your sides, and gently make their way up to cup your cheeks. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue dances against your lips.
Yoongi keeps his eyes slightly open as he pulls back for air. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming so he held onto you tighter, causing you to become aware of the contour of his body flush against yours. “I am sorry if I took you by surprise” he’s slightly breathless and flushed. “I wasn’t sure how the date would go and if I would get the chance to do this. If you don’t want to go anymore” he stops to lick his lips. “I would understand” he finishes.
“So you’re not an asshole after all” you look at him through the curtain of your eyelashes.
He raises a brow at you silently telling you to consider your wording as if you're treading on thin ice. “I am still your boss”
You shrug. “You lost the upper hand when you asked me out”
“I knew I liked you for a reason” he says while he takes a tiny step back to give you space and time to collect yourself.
“I think I might fall” your breathless voice takes you by surprise.
“You already have” he curls his fingers around yours.
Hand in hand you walk out of his office, causing ruckus in your wake as your coworkers gawk in disbelief at your departing figures. Because how could Mr.Min be acting like this? More importantly, how could Mr. Min be smiling like an absolute idiot.
I hope you enjoyed it :) Don’t forget to like and reblog! Thank you for reading.
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ladydorian05 · 4 years
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Dangerous love - Javier Peña x Gn!reader
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Okay, I finished it, finally!!! I don't have a lot to say about this except that it all began with a few lines provided by my brain in the middle of the night and then this happened.
A huge thank you to @din-damn-djarin​ she helped me so much editing this thing and with the ending (many parts of the ending were written by her).
Hope you guys enjoy it!!!
Dangerous love
Pairing: Javier Peña x gn!reader 
Summary: With Steve on vacation, it's up to Javier and you to check upon the new lead; unexpectedly the stakeout goes to shit and some surprising things happen after you jump at the first opportunity to endanger yourself. (I still don't know how to write this thing and I'll probably never learn.)
Warnings: Bullets, minor injuries, mentions of blood, what else, Javier’s potty mouth but with restraint, maybe a little of out of character behaviour at the end, no time line, fictional events. thoughts in italics. Spanish translations of long sentences can be found in ( ). And I think that’s it.
Word count: 5K and then some.
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Damn you Murphy, Why did you have to ask for vacation days right before we got a lead. Javier thought as he tried to get comfortable in his seat  behind the wheel, with Steve out of the picture, he was left to carry out this stakeout alone, alone with you. Inside the close quarters of his car.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like you, far from it actually. He just didn’t want to fuck things up with you now that he was finally able to put a name to the way he felt whenever he was around you. From the way his heart rate increased in your presence, to how much his thoughts revolved around you. Hell, he even stopped fucking around with his informants for the simple fact that none of them were you.
There was no way he was going to tell you. He couldn’t, your jobs were too dangerous. The slightest mistake could cost either of you your lives and the last thing he wanted was to put you in more danger than you were already in, even if he knew you could take care of yourself.  Besides, he didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.
“Okay, I got the snacks and here’s your coffee.” You said opening the door of the passenger side, taking him out of his thoughts. It was some kind of tradition between the three of you, getting snacks to make sitting inside a car for hours on end, waiting for something to happen, a little more bearable,”Any sign of our guy?”
He thanked you, taking the paper cup from your hand “And no, no sign of him or any of his associates.” he sighed before taking a sip from his coffee.
“Damn it, it’s close to midnight, either they appear in the next 3 hours or we’ll be stuck in here for another day.” You complained, leaving the bag with the snacks between you two. You were tired, even if you liked the extra alone time with Javier it was hard to enjoy it when both of you were sleep deprived, more than usual, and cramped inside his car for the second day in a row.
The lead was solid, the problem was they needed evidence that the house they were watching actually belonged to the guy you were after, once you got it you could take the information to Carrillo and mobilize resources to take him in. 
“Five says that we won’t get anything tonight either.” Javier says, taking a bag of chips for himself.
“Five what? Bucks?” You see him nod while stuffing his mouth with a handful of potato chips. You contemplate his profile for a moment before answering his bet, “Alright, I’m in. I have a good feeling about tonight.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, it's been quiet.”
“That’s mainly because Murphy’s not here.” You both share a laugh at your partner's expense. It was no secret that out of the three of you Steve was the most approachable. Javier was the known asshole of the embassy, you always tried to keep your guard up, what with being the new one, and Steve was just a ‘by the book’ kind of guy, even if being after Escobar made him bend some rules lately.
When you were first transferred to Colombia you were surprised that you actually got along just fine with both of your partners. You were the newbie, but they didn’t belittle you or underestimate you like you expected them to. However, you certainly never expected to end up falling for one of them.
As the months passed Javi became more than just your partner or friend, he became your confidant, you knew you could always talk to him. While he wasn’t the  most approachable person around the embassy, you found out he actually had a soft side. He was reliable, hard working, with a dry sense of humor, a ‘no bullshit’ attitude that called to you, and as much as he wanted to hide it, he cared deeply, even for things that were out of his control. The fact he was so fucking handsome didn’t hurt either.
You didn’t fall for him overnight, it was a steady, slow kind of change. It took sleepless nights pouring over documents, each taking turns getting more coffee to keep you both going;  late night conversations and laughs over strong alcohol to chase the stress from work away; having occasional dinner nights with him at his apartment or yours on those nights when the feeling of being alone in a different  country fighting a never ending war gets unbearable.
It wasn’t sudden, but it still surprised you when you realised your feelings for the DEA’s resident Cassanova were deeper than you thought. That was another thing that worried you, it was no secret where or rather from whom he tends to get information about the narcos you were chasing after. Even if he’s recently been more discreet about it.
“Heads up, we’ve got movement.” Javier brings you out of your thoughts, tossing the bag of chips back into the bag of snacks you brought. “Seems like you’ll be getting those five bucks after all.”
“Told you I had a hunch.” Both of you watch as a van parks in front of the house you’ve been watching, several men get out of the vehicle. You recognise a couple of them from the list of known people working for Escobar, most of them were foot soldiers.
You reached inside the glove compartment for the camera, hoping to get a few good pictures before they disappeared inside the house. This could be the missing link you needed to get to the guy that lived there.
“Hold on, don’t finish the film just yet,” Javi’s words give you pause as you start rewinding the camera to take another photograph, “another car’s pulling up.”
“Anyone we know?” You ask squinting to see who comes out of the other car parked away from the street lights lining the road.
“Fuck me...yeah, from the Cali cartel.” He answers, rubbing his chin with a hand.
“Shit, that can’t be good.” You lowered the camera. The change in the atmosphere around you was instant the moment both of you noticed the persons inside the other car were readying their guns.
“You have your gun with you?” Javi asks, reaching behind him for his own weapon.
“Never leave the house without it.”
“Good. When all hell breaks loose, and it will, I want you to find cover before you do anything else, got it?” You hear the click of the safety from Javi’s gun as you reach for the handle of your door; you can sense the familiar feeling of adrenaline as you ready yourself for what’s to come.
“Yeah, you better do the same.” You don’t get a response from him. In a matter of seconds, the once quiet street turns into a war zone. Gun in hand, you run for cover, ending up behind the wall of a house at the entrance of an alley.
You take a moment to breath and try to pinpoint Javier’s location. You see him poking his head from behind a wall on the opposite side of the street. You sigh, relieved to see that he got himself behind cover in time.
You can’t really do anything. It’s just you and Javier out here, you lacked both the numbers and the firepower. Minutes that felt like hours passed. You take a look at the shooting happening a few meters from your position before hiding again in the dark of the alley as three more cars arrived on the site. One of them coming up from the street you were in, you prayed that they didn’t notice either of you. It was clear that both sides had called for backup.
Fuck, now bullets were flying towards this side as well, it wouldn’t take long for them to start looking for a more solid cover than their cars. You see Javi come to the same realisation as he sends you a worried glance when your eyes meet. You needed back up too.
Neither of you expected something like this to happen, it was just a stakeout; you were horribly unprepared with no vest and only so many bullets. The moment they noticed either of you it was over. There was only one choice, you needed to call Carillo.
There was a phone inside the car. If you were fast enough you could dive inside the back seats of the car and grab the phone, you were certain Carrllo would still be in his office, he never left early. It would take him little to no time to round up a team and get to your position as fast as possible.
You turned to look at Javier after formulating the quick plan in your head and explained it as best as you could with your hands, asking him to cover your back. You watch him shake his head, gesturing with both hands for you to stay put. You know if you do as he wants they’ll find you sooner or later; with your plan, if everything went well, at least you both stood a chance of getting out of this alive and  there was even the possibility of taking some of them into custody.
You put the safety of your gun back on and  tuck it into the back of your pants for the moment. While looking at Javier straight in the eyes you slowly shake your head, watching as he spits out a curse you’re too far away to hear before diving out of your cover to get to the car.
Javier knew the situation would escalate badly for the two of you if they noticed your presence there, he was just holding onto the hope that they would be too engrossed in trying to kill each other for that to happen. He turned his attention away from the wall in front of him to check up on you, only to see the determined expression on your face. He’s seen that one before, you always looked like that before doing something brave, yet incredibly stupid that would no doubt end up endangering you.
What the hell were you thinking!? Javier understood what you were trying to say with your hands, your plan was insane. Yes, having backup would be really helpful, life saving even; but risking your life like that? No, he wouldn’t let you. He answered by very clearly telling you to stay where you were.
He swears his heart leapt out of his chest the moment you disregarded his instruction to stay put, tucking your gun in your pants before breaking into a run for the car. FUCK!
You left him with no choice but to do as you asked, there was no way in hell he was going to leave you even more open than you already were. Hopefully, with all the chaos going around, they wouldn’t notice you or where the bullets from his gun were coming from.
He tried to keep an eye on you while also paying attention to the altercation. The car wasn’t that far from your previous position, but considering the stray bullets raining all round, it was too damn dangerous. He was filing away in his head all the things he would say to you if- no, ONCE both of you were out of this mess. He wouldn’t let himself think of any other outcome, you were going to be fine and you would get out of this, both of you.
What was in reality a few seconds, felt like an eternity to him. You running alone, unprotected, straight into a firefight was a scene he’s only seen in his nightmares, the fact that this was really happening was worse than he had ever imagined.
He stopped breathing for a moment when he saw you stumble a little from the corner of his eye, but when he turned his full attention towards you, you weren’t there and the backdoor of the car was open. He sighed in relief, you made it.
Carrillo got there with backup in record time and these guys were still at it, they had the worst aim he had ever seen, it was laughable that the shooting lasted this long, but damn he was glad to see Carrillo and his men arriving. They blocked the escape routes, effectively cornering them and made quick work of subduing and cuffing any survivors.
He made his way towards you as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t get a bullet for stepping out from his cover, after all he would be of no use to you dead, but Carrillo noticed him first and stopped him halfway there.
You could hear the moment the backup arrived from your place on the floor of the back of the car. You were tired and probably in need of medical attention. You hadn’t felt the pain initially, too preoccupied with your madrun to get to the car and filled with adrenaline to notice. It wasn’t until things had quietened down significantly and the adrenaline began to seep from your body that you had time to assess your injuries and felt the searing hot pain blossoming in your arm and thigh. You weren’t sure if the bullets were still in there, if you had been hit anywhere else and just hadn’t felt the pain yet or how bad the bleeding was.
Slowly, you began to move in order to get out of the car. Hissing in pain when you had to use your leg to crawl to the opposite door, you figured it would be easier to keep moving forward and get out from that side than try to backtrack towards the one you used to get in.
The sudden movement of the door opening caught everyone who was close by off guard, some of the men actually pointed their guns at you.
“Whoa! Easy there, I’m friend no foe.” Scanning the area you spotted Javier with Carrillo, their attention focused on you, it seemed like they had been talking before you made your presence known. Javier walked towards you as the Colonel ordered his men to lower their weapons. “Hey, a little help please?”
He offered you his hand to help you get out of the vehicle. “Easy there, are you hurt?” He looked you up and down  searching for injuries and sure enough, he found them, “Fuck, you’re bleeding. Coronel, pida una ambulancia!” After telling the colonel to call for an ambulance he gently guided you away from the bullet hole ridden car to sit on the flatbed of one of the team’s trucks. 
Javier was uncharacteristically quiet considering the move you pulled off, you were expecting the scolding of your life, but he said nothing. He just hovered around you as the paramedics cleaned and treated your wounds, thankfully they weren’t life threatening, and gave one word answers when they asked him any kind of questions to find out if he was also injured. It was unsettling.
Anger you could deal with, you’ve done so on multiple occasions already used to his fiery personality, but this cold shoulder treatment...the only times he had ever acted like this had been when things got really bad or when he felt responsible for losing someone on the job. He would often shut himself out in situations like that,  but even then you were always able to get through to him and coax him into talking to you. 
Carrillo approached you once the paramedics’ job was done. “Mis hombres se encargaran de los malparidos. Yo los llevo de regreso a la base, necesitaran otro carro para ir a casa.” (My men will take care of the sons of bitches. I’ll take you back to base, you’ll need another car to get home.)
“Gracias por su ayuda Coronel.” You thanked him for the help, seeing as Javier still refused to speak.
“Al contrario, gracias a ti y tu llamada ahora tenemos arrestados no sólo a colaboradores de Escobar, sino también miembros del cartel de Cali.” (On the contrary, thanks to you and your call, we now have arrested not only Escobar’s collaborators, but also members from the Cali cartel.)
Javier went to retrieve any personal belongings from the car before following Carillo back to his truck. The ride back to base didn’t change anything, the three of you travelling in tense silence since Javier still refused to speak. It was a good thing the Colonel was never really a talkative man to begin with otherwise you’re sure he would have felt insulted by Javi’s current mood. 
Once back at base, Javier made quick work of the paperwork needed to take a provisional car while the one previously assigned to him was towed away and replaced. You decided to  put his odd behavior down to the stress of the night's events, thinking maybe that was what had him acting like this and hoping that maybe he would relax on the way home.
No such luck.
The car ride was infernally quiet and Javier’s mood only seemed to worsen by the minute, you could see his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He pulled up in the building’s garage, killing the engine without so much as turning his head in your direction. You couldn’t take it anymore, the silence was suffocating you.
“Hey, I got a new bottle of whiskey if you wanna grab a drink?” The only answer you got was the sound of the door slamming shut behind him as he got out of the car. At first you thought that was a no, but when you got out he was standing by the car’s trunk waiting for you. 
You made your way through the building to the door of your apartment; the slight limp from the wound on your thigh slowing you down somewhat. It wasn’t serious, the bullet only grazed the outer side of it. Your arm didn’t have the same luck; still, it was nothing time, a few stitches and bandages couldn’t fix, but it still hurt like hell, you’ll be sure to take some pain meds before going to bed. Javier was following behind you. If he ever decided to quit being a DEA agent, you were sure he’d be able make decent cash playing poker with the expressionless face he had going on  at the moment. Well, he would as long as he wore dark sunglasses, otherwise his expressive eyes would probably give him away. 
You opened the door and turned on the lights of the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get the bottle and the glasses.” You tell him as you toe off your shoes, leaving them in the entrance. You hear the door close and before you can make your way to the kitchen his hand darts up to grab the wrist of your uninjured arm.
“Javier? Wha-”
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Oh. So it was time for the scolding, he waited until you were alone for this, shit. Maybe you could play dumb?
“I was thinking about getting a little bit drunk before going to sleep.”
“You know what I mean. Back there, what the fuck were you thinking putting yourself in danger like that?” So, that was a no on the playing dumb thing then.
“Do you have any idea how lucky you were? You had no vest and still you ran headfirst into the open, you could’ve died!” He could feel the grip he had on his emotions slipping, all the fear, all the helplessness he felt the moment he saw you dive out into the rain of bullets rushing back to him.
“But I didn’t.” You knew he was right, it was a dangerous move, but it worked, it got you out of the tight spot. “Listen, I know it was dangerous, but it worked out.”
“So you were aware of how dangerously stupid that was and you still went ahead and did it!?” He let go of your wrist to pass his hand through his hair in exasperation,“To top it off, this isn’t even the first time you’ve pulled something like this, I don’t have enough fingers on my hands to count how many times your dumb luck has saved your ass.”
“Well excuse me for saving our asses back there!” You snap, your composure which you had managed to keep up until this point wavering, “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“You think I don’t know about your little endeavours with the other side of this war?” How dare he act as if he’s never put himself in danger, as if he wasn’t playing with fire himself, “How’s Don Berna? When’s your next coffee date?”
His eyes widened in horror and all the blood drained from his face. Any other day this kind of reaction from him would’ve made you laugh, but right now it only gave you a strange sense of satisfaction.
“How do you know about that?” His eyes fixed on yours, both of you locked in a staring match until you’re silent for a little too long and he speaks again, demanding an answer, “Huh? Answer me. How. Do. You. Know. That?”
“I saw you with him.”
“You followed me!? You fucking followed me!?”
“Yes, I did! What did you want me to do!? We were stuck, stressed as fuck, with no new leads and you were acting strange! I was worried!”
“That didn’t give you the right to go and fucking follow me! And that’s beyond the point, that’s different!” Your once tense, but relatively controlled, conversation was now a shouting match. A match that would most likely end with no winner and your friendship on the line, but you’ll be damned if you backed down from this.
“How!? How is it different!? I run once or twice towards some bullets to save our asses and you get to lecture me about it, but I can’t bring up the fact you’re meeting with a sicario, behind both of your partners backs, in your free time!?”
“We’re not talking about me!”
“OH! So YOU can make stupid and dangerous decisions, but I can’t!? And YOU can call ME out on them, but I can’t call YOU out on YOURS!?” Every time you stressed a word you made sure to poke him hard in the chest with your index finger as if you really needed to emphasise your point anymore.
He let out a heavy sigh trying to cool down a little. You had moved at some point during the heat of the argument, both of you trying to get into each other's faces as you yelled back and forth and you were so close to him now that the puff of air lightly ruffled your eyelashes. Deep down he knew you were right, but the night events still hung heavy in his mind. For a moment, he swore you weren’t going to make it, he should’ve known better- should have trusted you, but that didn’t mean he would support every single insane plan you came up with.
“I just-”
“You just what!?” You interrupted him. He was beyond frustrated with this situation. He just had to go and open his fucking mouth. He could have just stayed silent, shared that whiskey with you and drink until he forgot all about this whole stupid situation and then gone to bed.
“I just want you to understand-”
“Understand what!?”
“Goddamnit.” he muttered under his breath.
“Understand what Javier!? Maybe if you stopped stalling and just said what you want to say I would!”
“That I fucking love you!” Shit. He drags the palm of his hand over his face as he contemplates his options, it’s too late to go back now he decides, “I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you!”  
“Well, I love you too!” 
The stunned silence that followed the unexpected confessions was deafening. Neither of you dared to move from your positions, until you saw his eyes flicker from yours to your lips and his tongue poked out to lick his bottom lip.
You don’t know who moved first, but at that point you don’t care. Your lips came together with his in a passionate kiss, all thoughts of your argument forgotten for the moment. You could only think about how good it felt to finally kiss him, you always believed that he would be a good kisser, but this was beyond anything you ever imagined, all your previous fantasies of what kissing your partner would be like fell in comparison to the real deal.
It wasn’t perfect; no, nothing in real life is ever perfect, but at the same time it was everything and more. There was no fight for dominance, it was just a coming together of two people, two people trying to convey with actions what has never been said with words. Months of pent up feelings finally finding release.
His arms were around you, one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head, pulling you ever closer while your own hands held the back of his head, fingers losing themselves between his short locks of hair. You were so drunk on him, you never wanted to stop, unfortunately, oxygen was a necessity. Slowly, you pulled apart from each other, leaving little pecks on his lips as you went. 
“Fuck, we’re a mess.” He said, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against yours.
“Did you mean it?” You ask, finally finding your voice after taking a few deep breaths.
“Every word.” He answered, pulling you into another much slower kiss.
“Good.” You said against his lips the next time you parted. “Because I do too.” You were going to go in for another kiss, but you felt the pull of the stitches on your arm when you tried to bring his head closer, making you flinch in pain.
“You okay?” He asked, noticing the sudden movement.
“Yeah, just...the stitches are bothering me.” You said with a grimace.
“Fuck. I forgot about them.” He slowly detangled himself from you as not to hurt you further. “Let’s sit down on the couch, there’s more light over there, let’s make sure you didn’t reopen the wound.”
“It’s alright, just a bit sore, that’s all.” You gingerly touched the bandage covering the stitches. He called your name, to get your attention back.
“Please. If only for my peace of mind.” With a sigh, you agreed. He left his hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to your couch. He began to remove the tape that kept the gauze in place over the stitches as carefully as he could manage. “Thank you, your plan really did save us.” You stared at him in surprise, you weren't expecting that. “But you really need to be more careful. Do you have any idea how I felt when you just ran out?”
You shook your head.
“I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”
“You’re not THAT old.”
“Excuse you, I’m not old at all.” His eyebrows raise at your words and there’s a look of mock offense written across his features.
“That’s not what your cracking back says.”
“If we didn’t spend so much time behind a desk my back wouldn’t sound like fireworks going off every time I stretch.” Your eyes found each other for a moment before both of you ended up laughing. “No, but seriously. I don’t know What I would’ve done if anything had happened to you. Please, don’t risk yourself like that, don’t go where I can’t follow.”
“You know I can’t promise something like that...but I’ll try.”
“I can work with that.” He focused back on removing the tape without further upsetting the wound.
“I’ll be more careful, but in return, I want you to do everything you can to cut all ties with Don Berna. I don’t care how much information he gave you or keeps giving you, it’s not worth it if you’re going to end up in the middle of both sides.”
He took a deep breath before letting the air out. “I am trying, but it’s a delicate subject, I need to watch my steps. I reached out to him on a whim, and even if I got some good stuff from him, I’m not stupid, sooner or later he’ll cash in the favor.”
“Be careful, please.” He nodded.
Once the tape was out of the way, he looked at your stitches without touching the skin around them, not wanting to cause any kind of infection, once he saw that none of them needed to be redone, he covered them again.
“Alright, all’s good, let’s get you to bed.” Your eyes widened at his words.
“Javier, not today, I’m tired and my leg hurts and-” You’re cut off by his chuckle.
“To sleep. Jesus, get your head out of the gutter. Go get ready, I’ll bring you some pain killers and a glass of water. Whiskey’s not going anywhere, we can have it another day, you need to rest.”
When he came into your room you were already in your pajamas, taking your pants off had been tricky but you managed it without disturbing your wounds too much. He hands you two pills and a glass of water, you thanked him before swallowing the pills with some water. Leaving the glass on your nightstand, you make yourself comfortable in your bed.
“Well, I’ll umm...I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nods his head in your direction before turning to leave.
“Javi, wait.” You call before he reaches the door. He looks back at you over his shoulder, “Could you stay?”
His eyes widened in surprise before answering “Of course, sweetheart.” He’s quiet as he takes off his shirt, shoes, socks and moves to climb under the covers.
“Do you sleep in jeans? Isn’t that uncomfortable?” he freezes in place, one knee on the bed and one hand lifting the corner of the thin sheets covering the bed.
“No, I- I usually sleep in boxers.” he lowers his gaze to the bed, “I just don’t have any with me right now.”
There’s a moment of silence as you process his words before you burst into laughter.
“You- you mean- you’re not-” you try to talk in the middle of your laughing fit, but only manage to get a few words out.
“Yeah, I’m not wearing any underwear,” you swear he almost looks embarrassed “get over it.” he mutters.
“Sorry, I just-”you try to calm down, but can’t help the giggles that still escape your lips. “What, did you have plans for after the stakeout?” The question came out jokingly; maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to ask after what happened in your foyer, but deep down you wanted to know. You trusted him in any other way, could you also trust him completely with your heart?
“No.” He looks you in the eye and you notice that he understood the double meaning of your question. “I don’t do that anymore, for some time now. ”
“Oh.”
Once he settles, you reach over to the nightstand turning off the small lamp that sits there. You can’t see Javi in the darkness of the room, but you know there’s still something playing on his mind from the way you feel him fidget beside you. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching out for him across the small distance that separates the two of you. Your hand finds his shoulder and you run your fingers up and down his arm, enjoying the way he relaxes under the touch. 
“It’s nothing, go to sleep.” 
“Javier.” You warn, much too tired to argue but determined not to sleep until you get to the bottom of whatever's bothering him.
“I’m still thinking about what happened earlier...loving you can be quite dangerous.” Javier sighs, “You know that, don’t you?”
“It’s just as dangerous as loving you.”
“What a pair we make huh?” 
“We’ll figure it out.” Your voice is laced with exhaustion and you shuffle closer to him, nestling your head under his chin and wrapping an arm around his body, “We’ll be fine.” 
He hums in agreement, his arm hovering over you but not quite touching.
“You can touch me you know?” You say with amusement.
“Your arm- I don’t want to hurt you.” 
“You won’t. I promise.” You smile, pecking a kiss against the first patch of skin you can reach.
He lowers his arm tentatively, wrapping it around you and pulling you closer to him.
“Goodnight.” You mumble against his chest, sleep already beginning to pull you under.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair, listening to the way your breathing has evened out. Sleep has never come easily to Javier, but that night for the first time in months, it does.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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iamtaekooked · 4 years
Text
Mr. Min
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↳Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader 
↳Genre: Romance (all fluff)
↳Word count: 4.7K 
↳Rating: G 
↳Warnings: None
↳Summary: 
 Min Yoongi is the asshole boss who keeps you late at work every night. But then you find out why and it gives you the upper hand.
A/N: I hope you guys like it!! Finally wrote something less than 5k. It has been a while for sure. 
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Your hand begins cramping as you finish writing the report for asshole number one Min Yoongi. Writing a report is easy, but having to write it by hand is what makes you want to strangle him. The tiny blue desk clock strikes 11 pm and once again you lose out on the opportunity to live your life. At this point, you have lost track of how many times you have stayed late at the office while your friends enjoy their weekends with dinners, movies and activities. Sometimes it’s so bad that you video call them just as you’re about to drift off to sleep.
You don’t even bother to hope to go home early anymore. Min Yoongi always finds ways to make you stay late with him. You went through the five stages of grief at first because you felt your life was being taken away from you. You even thought of threatening him with a lawsuit because he couldn’t make you work over 40 hours a week. When you did he was quick to turn the tables by offering you overtime pay-- and not a measly sum. It was money you couldn’t turn away. So, once again you let yourself fall prey to his actions.
Slowly but surely you began getting used to this so-called “routine”. Gradually, hours started fading into one another until one day you became so habituated with staying late (and to the mind-boggling pay) that Yoongi didn’t even have to come to your cubicle to hand you anything. You already asked him in the morning for your evening assignment. One would think this would be a hint for him-- but no. The man was as clueless as one could be.
Like any other night, you had an assignment, one which Yoongi labelled as important. But then again everything was important. Any task he assigned (or rather you asked for) he classified as important. You wondered if he understood what the word means because if everything is important then technically nothing is. Rather than ask him about it, which wasn’t necessary anyway you did what you were handsomely paid to do.
A sigh passed your dry lips. Once again you grabbed the pen and began writing-- this time going as fast as your wrist would allow. The ink flowed from the pen to the paper in black scribbles, hardly understandable. But you could not bring yourself to care. He would have to deal with it, and that was that.
Having written the last sentence, you capped the pen and pushed back the chair so you could go to his office. Your heels hurt from wearing six-inch pumps all day. No less would do because turns out asshole Min Yoongi had made that provision because apparently, it looked “more professional”. While walking to his office you just imagined torturing him in your mind by making him wear these fucking heels. It was slightly comical imagery but also satisfying, so much so that you could not help yourself from smiling.
You knocked on the opaque glass door as you reached his office. It was customary for you to knock once and for him to not answer. Normally you would slide the documents or whatever is needed under the door because Yoongi had specifically requested he not be disturbed. But something prompted you to stick your head against the glass door and peer inside through the clear margins. You couldn’t see anything so despite Yoongi’s “request” you turned the knob, opened the door slightly and peeked your head inside. The scene in front of you however was not quite something you were expecting.
Min Yoongi was laying back against his very comfortable looking plush leather rotating chair, with his headphones on, legs resting on top of the table and his eyes fixed with a concentration on his laptop. There were empty boxes of takeout at his desk and the whole image conveyed to you that he hadn’t actually done any work. It was an inkling, which means you could be wrong. But you would be damned if you didn’t make your presence known.
You walked inside, standing halfway between him and the door and cleared your throat as loud as you could. There was no response as expected. You walked a few steps and stopped just short of his desk, yet he still did not notice you. You looked at the report in your hand and threw it on his desk, which landed with a thud. He jumped, and finally looked at you. It took a second but the realization dawned on him. His eyes bulged like he had been caught red-handed and you noticed his adam’s apple bob as he gulped hard.
He hastily took off his earphones and straightened in his chair. “I thought I told you not to disturb me”
“I am sorry, did I ruin the fun?” your brows knit together.
“Do you have the report?” he asked instead.
You look at the papers on his desk and then back at him to make him aware of it sitting in front of his eyes.  
He fumbles with the papers and picks them up. While he’s busy scanning the papers you take in the state of his desk. One side is completely neat with all the binders and files organized, and the other is just filled with trash. As you’re busy studying the contents of his desk, you notice the name of your client’s company on one of the papers. Curiously you reach towards the file, Yoongi still busy reading your report. You scan the pages and realize without even having to read halfway through it that Yoongi had already finished the report and it was marked with yesterday’s date, which means he already sent it to the client.
“Do you care to explain this Mr. Min?” your fingers curl into a fist around the papers.
His eyes widen once more. “Oh shit” he mumbles-- a deer caught in the headlights expression on his face.
He sighs, dropping your report on the table. “Oh fuck” he rubs his forehead. “It’s nothing,” he says with a straight face just a moment after looking like he’d been caught.
“It looks like you already completed the report. Why did I have to do it if you already did it?”
“I wanted you to” he’s quick to reply.
“I am sorry Mr. Min but that is not a good enough explanation. I stayed here even though I did not have to. I find it unfair that I have to do work that has already been done-- and that too by you. I doubt you don’t trust yourself with work”
“That’s enough with the questions” he replied curtly.
“Wait a minute” you look back at the pile of papers on his desk and find a presentation he had asked you to make for him a week ago. However,  the date this presentation was printed was a week before that which means that once again he made you do something that had already been done. Sensing a pattern you decided to confront him right then and there.
“Pardon my french, but why the hell have I been doing work that had already been done?”
Yoongi sighed once more, but this time he sounded more defeated than the first. “Look, I can’t give you an explanation you will like. There isn’t one. But I’ll tell you the truth”
“Good” you fold your arms across your chest.
“You won’t like this either but I asked you to stay late because I wanted you to be here with me. I never got used to working late at night. Something about being alone always irked me, so I started keeping people around. It’s not right, I know” he’s quick to justify just as he noticed you opening your mouth to speak. “Trust me, I know. But then when Brian left and you joined, I knew that I needed you around. So I started asking you to stay late. Turns out, I liked your company more than I have liked anyone else’s so I even started paying you to stay late, which I have never done either” he finishes, The only problem is he doesn’t sound sincere enough. It’s like he’s telling you for the sake of telling you.
“I am sorry Mr. Min but you are not a child. I can’t be putting my life on hold just so you don’t have to be alone at night. Do you have any idea how many occasions and opportunities I have missed in my life because of this? I couldn’t attend my best friend’s graduation, I couldn’t be there for the birth of my nephew because I was here slaving away. To think it was for nothing is terrible. You should really say sorry” you glare at the man, demanding an apology you know you deserve because it doesn’t matter how much money you got paid. It won’t compensate for the memories you could have made.
He purses his lips. “I won’t” he shakes his head. “I know it’s wrong but I don’t say sorry”
You scoff. “You’re an asshole”
He shrugs as if your remark doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “Be that as it may. I did what I did because I like having you around. In fact, I did it because I like you and I am not ashamed of it”
Under normal circumstances, you probably would have been flattered and even blushed at having been confessed to. But these weren’t normal circumstances and on top of that, it was Min Yoongi.
“How about this-- you can go home early for all of next week” he offers.
It actually makes your blood boil because he thinks he’s being generous. But even if you gave him a wide berth, this wasn’t even cutting it close “All of next month actually” you counter, determined in your own way to make him apologize for his actions.
He considers it. A few beats of silence pass as both of you continue to stare at each other. “Fine” he agrees.
“Good.” you say shortly, before turning on your heels and heading towards the door.
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Yoongi ends up keeping his word for the whole of next month. If it were up to you, you would have asked him that you will never stay late. But after your anger had died down in a week or so, the rational part of your mind convinced you that the money was too good. And it was. So you didn’t try to extend it.
In that one month, however, Yoongi was being awfully generous towards you. You figured it was his way of making up for his actions.
After a week of your heated conversation with him, you found a bouquet of flowers at home addressed to your best friend. There was no name on it. It turned out you did not need a name, because one you knew whose handwriting it was and secondly, the apology was enough for you to know who they were from.
I am sorry y/n missed your graduation. I realize she should have been there with you and it is my fault she was not. I can’t turn back time but I hope these flowers and this small gift make up for it. Congratulations on your achievement.
Accompanying the flowers was a generous gift, one which could have only been given by Yoongi. A full spa weekend with your best friend. It was an all-inclusive offer.
It felt like he was bribing you to forgive him. But even if that were the case, you felt you deserved this and you would be damned if you let it go to waste. If this is how he wanted to apologize, then so be it. In a way, he was giving you the opportunity to spend quality time with Hana.
Hana was ecstatic. “Isn’t it sweet?” she said dreamily.
You couldn’t help but scoff. “It’s not sweet. It’s what he should be doing. Not this exact thing per se. But he needs to be making up for what he did and he is” you reminded her.
“Fine” Hana was quick to give up because even she knew not to argue.
To apologize, at the end of the month Yoongi also ends up giving you the biggest client. This one you feel conflicted about because you can’t discern his intention. So you do the only thing you can. You went charging to his office to demand an explanation.
Maybe he heard you coming but before you could even open your mouth after entering the room he was already speaking.
“I know,” he says as he gave you one glance before focusing on his laptop as he typed away. “I gave you a client because you deserve it. Trying to make up for troubling you is also part of it, but it’s mostly because you deserve it” he explains without sparing you another glance this time. “It just so happens Karla likes you and I think you can understand each other well as women. Not to mention you have great marketing skills that Karla’s company could use” he finishes speaking and the sound of keys clacking stops as well. He gives you his undivided attention. “So” he joins his fingers in a steeple, elbows resting on the desk. “What do you think?”
You don’t even give it a second of thought. “You made a good decision Mr. Min” corners of your lips curve in a smile.
“Of course I did” he reciprocates your smile. “I never make bad decisions” his smile grows into a knowing grin.
You catch the sarcastic play on words. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that”. Your gaze lingers on his a second longer before you nod and turn away to leave.
Just as you reach for the door, he speaks.
“Do your best”
You turn around and give him a curtsey nod. “You bet I will”
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You’re back to working late nights, but this time with Yoongi in his office on actual things that matter.
You and Yoongi have been working on a pitch for Karla’s company to convince them to change their branding. You work late hours into the night as usual. You flirt here and there, but nothing major happens as you both keep it professional(ish). There are a few laughs exchanged, a couple of longing gazes, moments so thick with tension you could practically taste it on your tongue.
You lean over to look at Yoongi’s list of ideas, but unknowingly invade his personal bubble-- that intimate zone only reserved for significant others/spouses. You get caught up in the moment as you look at him, and he looks at you. For a moment you think he’ll kiss you. But instead, he clears his throat. “I’ll be back” his voice is a whisper.
He gets up hurriedly and leaves, clearing his throat all the way to the door.
You watch his figure disappear behind the opaque glass door.
“Keep it professional” you chide yourself with a shake of the head.
You focus back on your notes, flipping through the pages trying to put a concept map together.
A draft of air hits you and you look in the direction to find Yoongi opening the door. He walks in a few feet, one hand hidden behind his back.
Curiosity piqued and you offer him an inquisitive look. “What are you hiding Mr. Min?”
Wordlessly, he brings his arm forward. In his hand is a bouquet of baby’s breath flowers.
“How did you-” you start.
“I know” he erases the distance between you as he stops just shy of invading your intimate space and holds out the flowers.
You reach for them. “Thank you. But how do you know I like these?”
“You said it” he mentions.
“I did?” you look at him puzzled.
“Two nights ago. We were talking about using florals to brighten up the aesthetic for Karla’s company and you mentioned baby’s breath is your favourite flower”
“ I don’t even remember saying that” you shake your head, almost in disbelief that he remembered. “You actually remembered?”
He nods. “I remember everything you say” he replies“ no matter how sharply you put it” he adds with a chuckle.
At a loss for words, all you can do is stare at the man filled with a foreign feeling.
“Thank you” you finally manage to say.
“You’re very welcome” his lips curve into a smile.
He returns to his seat while you place the flowers on his desk as gently as you can. Once he’s seated you take the opportunity to ask. “Mr. Min” you address him.
“Yeah” he looks at you in a way that makes your heart race faster.
“Why did you give me these?” it feels like the incessant urgent know has been satisfied and you feel relieved.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to” he looks down at the papers in front of him. A few moments of silence pass as you continue studying him while he keeps his gaze downcast. “An-anyway let's get back to it” he quickly changes the subject.
You nod. Under the dim lighting of his office, for the very first time you notice how handsome he looks. His skin looks like porcelain, his eyes glimmer with a hint of golden flecks around the irises. His lips look buttery soft. You bite back on your lip as you realize how much quicker you’re breathing.
“Is something wrong?” Yoongi questions as he looks up at you.
You vigourously shake your head. “I just— I am sorry”
“I caught you staring didn’t I?” he responds but it’s not really meant to be a question. “I don’t mind. I like the attention” he winks.
Your eyes widen. “I— I wasn’t” your attempt at denying it is futile and even you know it. But you have to at least attempt to save face.
“If it helps, I actually think it’s cute” his lips upturn in a playful smile.
You keep mum, considering there is nothing to say. Even though you don’t speak, the smile on your lips says everything Yoongi needs to know.
You hear him softly laughing and you can sense him just shaking his head. Then you hear something and you aren’t sure if you hear it right but it sounds an awful lot like “you’re cute miss y/n” 
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You end up spending another hour brainstorming ideas. After that last exchange between you, you thought you couldn’t concentrate. But you did. And once more you flirted a little, exchanged gazes, and avoid as hard as you can to pay no mind to the vibe between you.
“I think we should call it a night” Yoongi stretches his arms over his head with a groan. “You’re tired too”
“Okay” you start gathering all the papers into a pile.
“Don’t worry about this” he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’ll do it. Start getting your stuff together. I’ll drop you off”
“You don’t have to” you reply, the burdensome feeling coming on. “I can go home”
“Did I give you a choice?” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just because I got you these flowers, and that spa day and gave you Karla doesn’t mean you get to tell what I have or don’t have to do. Got it” he sounds a little stern, but in a way where he’s being thoughtful more than trying to be a jerk.
“Yes, Mr. Min” the meekness in your voice surprises you. As you stand in front of him you cannot understand what brings on this sudden submissive attitude. But you have already agreed and something tells you Mr. Min won’t take no for an answer.
“I’ll be right there” he motions to the door with his head, indicating that you should pack up.
“Okay” you pick up the bouquet and quietly walk out of his office.
The walk back to your desk is filled with mixed emotions. A fluttery feeling floats in your stomach, giving you the perception that your head is spinning. You almost stumble as you reach your desk. You realize you’re breathless as you grip onto the edges of the desk to steady yourself. “Shit. So much for keeping it professional” you mutter while you grab your bag. You sling it over your shoulder. You gather the flowers in your hand as you wait for Yoongi.
Moments later he’s coming out. “Ready?” he asks.
With a dry mouth and dizzying intoxication brought upon his presence all you do is nod.
“After you.” he says.
Maybe he isn’t an asshole after all.
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The sounds of crickets chirping in the silence of the night help shroud some of your thoughts. But not enough apparently because merely Yoongi’s presence is enough to send you in a tizzy. It’s maybe only been about five seconds since Yoongi stopped in front of your house but it sure feels like hours.
“Umm” you’re the first to break the silence. “Well, thank you for the ride an-and for these flowers”
“You’re welcome” comes his quiet voice.
You unlock the door, one foot already out of the door.
“Wait” his hand on your forearm stops you.
You turn to look at him. “Yeah?”
“I actually brought you these flowers because I was going to ask you on a date” he confesses.
“Oh” is all you can manage. You don’t know what else to say.
“So, will you…?” he sounds unsure as he says these words, almost like he himself doesn’t know.
He sounds sincere enough. But as it stands you have two choices: give in easily at which point you may as well give up any hope in future of asking him for anything. Or you could just play hard to get so he knows it won’t be easy.
“I’ll think about” confidence flows through your voice, and along with a coy smirk on your lips.
Yoongi’s previously solemn expression is replaced by a crooked smile. He studies you quietly, making you wonder what he’s thinking. “I’ll give you five minutes”
“No. If that’s how long you think it takes to figure out whether I want to give you a chance, then my answer is no”.
“Fine. How long do you want?”
“It’s not about long I want Mr. Min. It’s about how long you are willing to wait” and without hearing his response you exit the car.
All Yoongi can do is stare at you open-mouthed-- stunned and in utter disbelief.
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You didn’t know Yoongi would wait for two whole months. You didn’t expect him to keep it professional between you either
You also didn’t expect Min Yoongi to come to your desk at 2 pm and ask you to look over the designs for one of your clients.
“You look lovely today y/n” he stops next to your desk, holding out a file for you.
“I always look lovely” you take the file from him, dismissing his compliment because you’re sure he’s just buttering you up into doing something for him. Not that you wouldn’t if he hadn’t said anything.
“I mean it” his voice softens as he recognizes your disbelief. “Blue looks good on you’” he motions to your blue blouse, and looks you straight in the eyes. He doesn’t even flinch-- which means he actually probably means it.
You certainly don’t regret picking it out anymore. “Thank you”
“You’re very welcome.” he adds with a smile that stretches into a grin. “Oh and can you look this over. Please and thank you”
“I will” you nod. “Question for you”
“Anything” he half sits on your desk as he awaits your ask.
“Did you come here to give me the file or to tell me I look good?”
“I came here to tell you, you look beautiful if what you’re after is my motive” the corners of his mouth turn up in a soft flirty smile.
“I am. But I’ll also look at this” you gesture to the file in your hand.
He acknowledges your response with a nod as he turns around and starts towards his office.
“Mr. Min” you call out and he turns around. “That suit looks great on you”
It takes him a second to comprehend your words, but as soon as he does, he’s back to smiling. “Thank you y/n”
Just as easily he struts away, just as easily everyone around you is stunned into silence. It looks like a comic scene as everyone looks at Yoongi’s retreating figure with mouth’s agape.
“Did he flirt with you?” one of your coworker’s peers over the divide between your cubicles.
You look up at him. “Yes he did”
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At 4 pm, you walk back to his office with your notes on the changes that should be made. You knock on the door once. He doesn’t answer so you take it as your cue to enter.
“Here are the notes” you hold out the file as you stop just in front of his desk.
“It’s already done?” Yoongi is forced to look up his work.
“Yes and yes”
“Okay. You can leave it on the desk” he goes back to his work.
You wait for him to catch on. But he doesn’t. So you start towards the door.
“Wait” he calls out. “Yes and Yes?”
You turn around, feeling giddy with anticipation.
“What’s the second yes for?” he looks at you puzzled.
“I guess you don’t want to go on that date anymore” you quirk a brow.
He closes his laptop and leans back in his chair. “Took you long enough”
“You reap what you sow Mr. Min”
“Is that right?” it’s rhetorical of course but you nod anyway.
He chuckles. “Let’s go “ he grabs his coat from the back of the chair and swings it around and on his shoulders.
You look at him puzzled. “Right now? What about work?”
“First, I am the boss so I make the rules and I say we go. Second, I made the mistake of offering you five minutes of time to make your decision. You really think I am going to give you a day or two for this date”
You can’t help but laugh. “In that case Mr. Min, let’s go”
He heads to the door first as you follow “After you” he opens it and you’re almost out of the door when he shuts the door. “Wait. I have to do something” he pulls you to himself, supporting you by the waist as he presses his lips to yours.
Maybe time stops when his lips meet yours. But the flutter in your stomach only intensifies. You feel weak in the knees. You hold onto the nape of Yoongi’s neck as your legs begin to tingle. Yoongi’s hands rest on your sides, and gently make their way up to cup your cheeks. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue dances against your lips.
Yoongi keeps his eyes slightly open as he pulls back for air. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming so he held onto you tighter, causing you to become aware of the contour of his body flush against yours. “I am sorry if I took you by surprise” he’s slightly breathless and flushed. “I wasn’t sure how the date would go and if I would get the chance to do this. If you don’t want to go anymore” he stops to lick his lips. “I would understand” he finishes.
“So you’re not an asshole after all” you look at him through the curtain of your eyelashes.
He raises a brow at you silently telling you to consider your wording as if you're treading on thin ice. “I am still your boss”
You shrug. “You lost the upper hand when you asked me out”
“I knew I liked you for a reason” he says while he takes a tiny step back to give you space and time to collect yourself.
“I think I might fall” your breathless voice takes you by surprise.
“You already have” he curls his fingers around yours.
Hand in hand you walk out of his office, causing ruckus in your wake as your coworkers gawk in disbelief at your departing figures. Because how could Mr.Min be acting like this? More importantly, how could Mr. Min be smiling like an absolute idiot.
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I hope you enjoyed reading :) Don’t forget to like and reblog! Thank you for reading. 
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siancore · 4 years
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Second Chances
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A/N: Here’s the SamBucky reunion fic I said I’d write. Sam and Bucky are reunited after going their separate ways to build lives for themselves after the Blip. Enjoy.
Summary: Barnes wanted to say something. He wanted to tell Sam how he felt; how Sam made him feel. He wanted to ask him to stay. He wanted to ask if he could follow. He wanted. He wanted. He fucking wanted something he could not have. Instead, he took a deep breath and hoped that the pain that was churning inside of him was not written on his face. 
Words: 5K
One of the problems with war that people who had not served rarely thought of was something mundane: The sitting around and waiting. Waiting for orders and directives. Waiting for news from the front. Waiting for letters from home. Waiting for the screaming to die down and the bullets to stop. There was so much waiting. There was so much war. But Barnes didn’t do that anymore. He hadn’t been to war in so long. In years. But he was still waiting, and it was a different wait this time: He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the world that he had woken up in to finally crumble to nothing. Maybe it was coming sooner than he had thought. Either way, the wait left an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach.
Barnes yawned and then took a swig from his beer before placing the bottle back down on his coffee table. His cat, Alpine curled up beside him on the sofa as he continued to clean his gun. Neither he, nor the feline stirred when Sharon Carter came through the front door.
“I gave you that key in case somethin’ happened to me and you needed to come get Alpine,” said Barnes, not looking up from his task. “Not for social visits.”
“This isn’t a social visit,” Sharon replied as she stepped into the room. “God, I wish you had a TV. Have you heard about John Walker?”
“Who?”
“Walker, alias US Agent.”
“Oh, right: Dime-Store Cap,” said Bucky as he placed his weapon down on the cloth he was using. “You know I don’t keep up with what’s goin’ on with him. That asshole’s just there to do a song and dance and fool everyone into thinkin’ shit’s alright when it isn’t.”
Carter let out a sigh and sat down. She shook her head at Barnes, and he shrugged before saying, “What?”
“When are you gonna let this, I don’t know what it is, this, animosity towards the guy, go?”
“When is the US government gonna admit they made a mistake by givin’ him the shield?”
“Barnes –”
“You know damn well it should be Sam Wilson who has it,” said Bucky as he finished the rest of his beer.
“I know that,” Carter replied. “But just because I agree that Sam should have it, and just because you’re carrying a torch for the guy, it doesn’t mean the people in power are gonna agree with us.”
Sharon had figured out Bucky’s feelings for Sam long ago when they were having a conversation not unlike the one they were engaged in presently. She had often wondered why Barnes did not follow Wilson when he had left and went into retirement. He obviously cared deeply for the other man, but she was not sure of what their relationship fully entailed.
“Yeah, I understand that,” said Barnes, feeling a dull headache begin to set in. “And just because some imposter in a Halloween costume is their first choice, doesn’t mean I have to like it. Honestly, Carter, why are you here? To talk to me about this prick? I work counterterrorism, not public relations. I got nothin’ to do with him. What’s so important about this poster boy that’s got you interrupting my perfectly swell Friday night? He ain’t my business or problem.”
Sharon raised an eyebrow, looked around the bare apartment and then down at the weapons, and said, “Firstly, and I say this as a friend: For fuck’s sake, Barnes. You need to get out more. Go meet a nice man. Go on a date. Go to a movie. This shit is depressing. Secondly, that poster boy is your business.”
“Really? How you figure?”
“He was abducted from a college football game about an hour ago.”
Barnes let out an exaggerated puff of air from his nose and said, “Who you like for it?”
“Flag Smashers.”
“Right, and you want me on this case because I’ve deprogrammed a bunch of ex-members?”
“That helps,” Carter admitted. “Your knowledge of their organization is valuable. Your work after we bring them in will be invaluable. But we need you to convince Sam Wilson to come on board.”
“Excuse me?” asked Bucky, incredulous. “Your bosses want me to do what, exactly?”
“Bring Wilson in on the mission,” said Carter. “Work with him. The two of you. This is time sensitive. We need you at Wilson’s location ASAP.”
“You honestly think he’ll come back after the way the government treated him?” Barnes asked with a wry laugh.
“We’ve gotta try.”
“Why me?”
“Because we’ll have a better chance of him saying yes if you ask.”
Barnes sighed and ran his hand over his stubble.
“It’s been two years since I’ve seen him,” said Bucky with an almost pained expression on his face. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me? I got no influence over him. Whatever it is you think me and Sam have or had isn’t gonna help you with this. Send someone else.”
“I don’t know what went on between the two of you, and yes, it has been two years, but if he thinks and speaks as highly of you as you do of him, then I know you’re the one we need to send for him. You’re the one he’ll listen to. You’re the one he’ll follow.”
READ THE REST HERE
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jebazzled · 4 years
Text
it ain’t your muse! (shut up & write, ft. rihanna)
You nerds are always talking about your muse. My muse this, my muse that, I have no muse, my muse went the way of the dinosaurs, if my muse comes out of its burrow and sees its shadow I won’t be able to write for six weeks.
Shut up about your fucking muse!
It is true that you might go through periods where it is hard to find time and energy to write, or negative experiences in a writing community might leave you with anxiety surrounding writing. But by and large, writers block is something you can overcome! 
Please, for the love of god, let me help you. 
Writing is a muscle, and you’ve got to exercise it if you don’t want it to atrophy. 
This tutorial is a bit of tough love about y’all and y’all’s diddly-darn muses, and some advice for snapping yourself out of it!
So here’s the thing about writing, my loves. You have to actually do it. 
TERRIBLY inconvenient, I know.
I’m not here to tell you how to manage your work-life balance or how to manage your time. If you’re not writing much because you straight up don’t have time to write much, my advice is simple: pare down on your characters, focus on the plots that matter most to you, and spend some mental health juice on reminding yourself that there isn’t an RP Prom Queen, and even if there were, it’s better not to live or die by that bizarro crown. 
But if you’re having trouble writing because of Your Muse... I’m cracking my knuckles. 
We’ve all written with folks before - or been that folk before - who need a very specific set of circumstances if they’re going to write: they need time to Pinterest, need to listen to a specific playlist, need to get in the mindset, need the thread to scratch a very specific itch and need all of it to come together before the moon passes out of a waxing gibbous. As a fellow dev ho, I understand the appeal of writing to suit a mood, of vibing to a playlist, of prioritizing the stuff you’re going fucking feral for, of having the stars align while you do the thing. But if you’re like this when you’re writing for other people - 
well, you’re making things difficult for both you and your writing partners! We can’t control the external constraints on our time, e.g. work and school, and we can’t always control the nonsense our psychology spins to keep us from writing. But some things are within our control, and by god, if there is any control to be had in the year of Mother Sappho 2021, don’t you want it? 
At least some of your writers block is probably dumb as hell. So let’s beat the shit out of that part.
Anyway, if you’re yakking on and on about how your muse demands a bottle of red wine and a scented candle and fairy lights and soft socks and the blood of the servant, willfully given in order to spit out 200 words, or whatever... 
it’s not that fucking deep.
Writing is a muscle. It’s like any other muscle: you need to exercise it. 
If you’re training for a 5k, you don’t sit on your couch listening to “Eye of the Tiger” until race day. You get your ass off the cushion and pound the pavement. You probably start by alternating walks with short bursts of running. You probably don’t work your way up to actually running 5k at a time for a few weeks. And once you’ve run that first 5k, you don’t go sit on your couch to listen to “Eye of the Tiger” until the next race. You keep running to stay in shape for the next race.
Writing is like that. 
What you write does not have to be perfect. 
You can work on the post for six weeks and there will still be things you could change. You know what change your writing partner would have appreciated most? If you’d posted it for them three weeks ago. Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good. 
Cut yourself the same slack you cut for your writing partners. Do you yearn to keelhaul them if their reply isn’t worth a National Book Award? No, because you’re not an asshole. They’re also not an asshole. Everyone is reasonable here. Write something that responds to what they gave you and that gives them something to work with. Not every single post has to be capital-I Inspired. ✨
What you write does not have to be a vibe ready for the Goop newsletter. 
I was a creative writing major in college, and I was always having to turn stuff in for class that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to work on: a short story set in another country when I just wanted to write a play with puppets, an essay about food when I would rather write one about a weekend drive, etc. 
Sometimes, you write what you write when you write it not because it’s getting you hot and bothered but because you’ve owed a reply for A While and you feel bad about keeping someone waiting. It will still be fun, because you chose to do that thread with your character and someone else’s character for a reason, and that reason stands, even if your monkey brain is yearning to play with that slime that makes fart noises when you put it away. 
(Pro tip, here: don’t do threads you don’t actually have any interest in writing! It is less awkward to tell someone, “I am not interested in my character weed whacking your character’s lawn” than to waste their time with 10 posts of it before telling them, “I am not interested in my character weed whacking your character’s lawn.”) 
The more you write, the easier it is. 
Let’s talk about running again. A couple of years ago, I went on a bit of a kick with the running. I ran at least three times a week. I would bring my running shit with me to work so I could run in the park near my office. I would make running dates with friends. I would reward myself with a bagel from my favorite cafe if I did a run. And you know what? Once I got myself past the hurdle of pulling on my running clothes and lacing up my shoes, I enjoyed myself. When I ran 5k without slowing to a walk, I was proud of myself. When I told myself, “let’s do another loop at the park!” and stopped to take a photo of the sunset, I enjoyed myself. I would not have enjoyed myself if I hadn’t hit the goddamn pavement.
Put your ass in your fucking chair. I don’t care if you don’t have the right scented candle. Write 50 words. Right fucking now. I’ll wait.
Write another 50.
Now write another 100.
How long did that take you? Some days, it might take you 90 minutes to write 200 words. But that’s 200 more words than you would have written in 90 minutes of browsing Pinterest waiting for an angel to come down from heaven and write this post for you. 
All that bullshit you do to Feed Your Muse? It’s stalling, you idiot. 
The more you make yourself write instead of just thinking about writing, the easier it will be to actually fucking write. 
I used to sit and stare at posts for hours and hours and hours before submitting them, so worried about the post being good enough. When I moved to a neighborhood with an aboveground train line, I was able to write on my morning commute, and writing every morning - even if only the 200 words I could crank out on mobile in 30 minutes before work - got me out of my weird writers block crutches and security blankets. It didn’t take as much effort to write, anymore. I wrote over 200,000 words in 2019, and over 300,000 words in 2020, when I had barely any commute at all to use on writing. I didn’t magically have endless hours of free time. I just wasn’t wasting my free time pretending that being on Tumblr counted as writing. 
Tough love: doled out. And now:
TIPS & TRICKS FOR BEATING “””Writers Block”””
Stop acting like Writers Block is real. It’s not that it’s not real, but by telling yourself that you have Writers Block, you’re making it worse for yourself. You’re making excuses for yourself. I used Writers Block to stall writing my Topics in Creative Writing: Folktales portfolio for 3 months, and you know what happened? I still had to turn in the fucking portfolio, because the person I was writing for didn’t fucking care about my fucking Writers Block. And you know who had to sit her ass in a chair and write 30 pages of folktales in a 24 hour period? Me. It’s almost like my Writers Block was just PROCRASTINATION. 
Set a timer. If you’re looking at your list of replies owed and you’re feeling like it might be easier to “do character dev” and “build a playlist” than to write your posts, break the task into smaller pieces. If your server has a sprint bot, use it. If not, set your own timer.  Organize your list of threads with the ones you’ve owed replies on the longest at the top. Set your timer for 20 minutes and see how much you can write for the oldest post you owe. Not done? Set the timer for another 20 minutes. Keep setting that timer until that post is done and you can drop it in the tags channel. Now do the same for the second oldest.  CRANK! THEM! OUT! If you find that it’s depleting your creative energy, that’s not unusual! When I get to this point in my own posting habits, my oldest replies owed are usually for Albus Dumbledore, a character I write specifically because I hate him. It is often easier to knock out all his posts in one chunk rather than shift voice, so this ends up working out nicely. 
Don’t indulge your stupid stalling tactics. Do you typically get sidetracked by Pinterest? Put your phone away and close that tab. Do you get absorbed in lining up the perfect music for writing a post? Write in silence, asshole. Do you need to be in your favorite chair with the right lighting? Go sit on a park bench and write on mobile.  It’s nice to write in idealized environments. I rented a treehouse last summer to write 10k on a novel! I get it! But you absolutely can write in other environments, if you have to. And if you can get yourself to write on a dark skin on your iPad at an airport in the Midwest while waiting for a flight - well, shit, think of how much you’ll be able to write on a laptop when your diva ass demands are properly met!
Don’t take on shit you don’t want to write. I fully admit that these tactics feel a bit like homework/chores/a to-do list for what is of course a fun hobby. You know how they say “love what you do and you’ll never work a day in your life?” If you don’t take on plots, characters, and threads that don’t have a lick of interest or excitement for you, this shit won’t feel like a hassle. 
Hope this whips all you little miscreants (myself included) into shape! Now quit your yapping and start writing. 
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shinsorokiri · 4 years
Text
UA Idol | Chapter Nineteen
Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader
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Word Count: 5k+
Warnings: Language, cancer, talking about a past emotionally abusive relationship, mentions of sex, rlly awful older guy doing rlly awful things to a minor, sad Hitoshi Shinsou, mentions of alcohol
A/N: This one is literally the longest chapter I think I’ve written in my life ever. I know it’s still kinda short compared to what other people put out, but I’m really proud of it! Also, it is a little angsty, but I figured adding some background info was a must. I hope y’all enjoy it! Also, yes, I will also be uploading tomorrow as well, so woohoo. This is my Christmas gift to y’all hehe :)
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Much to your disappointment, you eventually had to leave Hitoshi and Denki’s room. It just got “too late.” Of course, you would have loved to stay and just chill with Hitoshi, but Denki and Mina cannot know, and you guess you’ve been around him a bit too long for a friendly situationship. Maybe. You don’t really know what the boundaries for this situationshhip are when it comes to hanging out with each other. Whatever, though, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you need to get all of your preparations for your song all together immediately so you can make it easier for the band and sound and lighting designers. 
So here you are, six in the morning, not sleeping, no, of course not. You’re too busy making a basic beat that you can show the band, sketching out some ideas for a light show, and counting each and every vocal cue that might need to be prerecorded and played. Of course, Mina is unconscious in the bed next to you, but that’s because she’s singing Positions by Ariana Grande, so a backing track will do perfectly, and the minimal dancing she’ll be doing will all be done by her. Besides, the two of you talked about it for a long time about her song and she’ll be one hundred percent fine. You, on the other hand, were just an anxious mess about the entire situation about to go down. Much to your expectations, you got a text notification from none other than Mr. Hitoshi Shinsou. Man doesn’t sleep, and the fact that he got so much sleep earlier today really fucked with him. 
‘what are you doing right now’
‘trying to write down my lighting cues, why?’
‘come to the hotel roof, it’s a lot calmer and peaceful up here’
You can’t help but smile. Leave it to Hitoshi to be up ridiculously early. Then again, it’s not like the two of you really had anything to do tomorrow. Not anything big, anyway. It mainly consists of just telling the band and everyone everything, so going up to the roof wouldn’t be a bad idea. You grab your laptop and a notebook and head on up. Sure enough, Hitoshi is sitting near the edge, mindlessly strumming his guitar, and just gazing off to the ocean. “You should really get some sleep, you know. I mean it’s nearly 6:30 in the morning.” You tease as you sit down next to him. He smirks, shaking his head. “Sorry, I refuse to listen to someone who is also up at this hour by choice. So, politely fuck out of her with that shit.”
You gently push his shoulder with a chuckle before he starts strumming away again. “So, what’s up? Why are you awake at this hour?” he glances over at you and you sigh. “I’m just stressed about everything. I already have gotten super behind on schoolwork because of this and like yeah, technically I could just drop out this semester and go back for next but it’s just… super complicated and if I don’t get through to live shows… what am I gonna do?”
“You’re going to get through, kitten. I know you will. You’re amazing, stop doubting yourself.” 
“You’re just saying that, Toshi.”
“No, I’m not. I’m being 100% serious.” He stops playing his guitar as he looks at you, a dead serious expression on his face. You sigh, shaking your head. “Thanks. I just always assume the worst, I guess.”
“I know you do. But based off of past experiences, it makes sense,” he says, looking away from you and back out at the ocean. You two would probably see the sunrise together. Romantic. You pause for a moment, before speaking again. “I never actually tell you about what happened with me and my ex, did I?”
Hitoshi pauses now. You never did tell him everything, just enough. And he kind of pieced together some things because of the songs you wrote about him, but he would kind of love to know more. Not like love, but he would like to know who the motherfucker who broke your heart was. “No. Just that he was older than you and the absolute worst.”
“Ah, yeah, well, that’s the basics.”
Hitoshi looks at you. “Would you want to tell me?”
You hesitate before nodding your head. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”
“Then, I’m all ears.”
You nod, looking out at the stars before beginning, “So… when I was seventeen, I met… him. He was much older than me, like our relationship was not legal, which looking back on it now, I’m like, ‘wow (Y/n), you are such a dumbass for that,’ but I was young. I didn’t know that it was bad, so… yeah. But I certainly found out. At first it was great, I had an older boyfriend, I was edgy, everything was amazing. And then… well… I know now that it was gaslighting. Following that was manipulation, there was… a lot of emotional manipulation. For example, you call me kitten, or (Y/n) or my nickname. He would call me dumbass, stupid, loser, bitch, slut, all the bad things. And it wasn’t in an endearing way. It wasn’t like I’d do something stupid and he would laugh and be all, oh you’re such a dumbass. No. It was for everything. He would also treat me like a child. I was young, yeah, but he acted like he was all knowing, and I didn’t have any experiences with anything at all. Which, granted, I had very little experience, but… still. It was demeaning. It made me feel small and worthless, and he’s the worst for it.”
You pause for a moment, glancing over at Hitoshi. You see his eyes fixed on you; jaw clenched. You can tell he’s kind of… pissed at this guy. Which makes sense, I mean the two of you are now romantically involved, so why wouldn’t he hate your ex. It only makes sense. Especially since he was a dumpster fire of a human being. You look down at your lap, continuing on. 
“I fell in love with him, though. That’s why I let it go on for so long because I was like, well, we love each other, so everything will be fine. And that’s partially why I lost my virginity to him. I mean, that was… a whole other ordeal. Once again, I was seventeen, he was very much older, it was just… it was very illegal and bad and well… yeah. And when I was like, ‘oh, but you’re older than me isn’t that bad?’ he was all, ‘age is just a number, baby. We can do whatever you want,’ and my naïve ass fell for it. And from that moment on I thought there had to be something special about me. And well… after almost two years of us being together, I found out he was cheating on me. And it kind of destroyed me in a way. And… yeah. He’s the worst.”
Hitoshi is silent for a moment. Only because he doesn’t trust what might come out of his mouth. This man lied to you, manipulated you, hurt you, cheated on you???? What the actual fuck is wrong with him. Not to mention the whole grooming thing he did to you. What the fuck was that. “Well, I’m just going to let you know this now.”
Hitoshi starts talking but pauses to turn and face you completely. “If I ever meet this guy, I’m beating the shit out of him. Badly. And then I’m going to ruin his life by letting the police know that he coerced a minor into having sex with him. That’s what your whole ass song Seventeen is about, so it’s not like it would be a random story.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that, but I think he’s out of my life now. Sometimes he tries to slide back in, but he hasn’t tried for six months now, so yay. All time high record.”
“Next time he contacts you let me know and I will literally send him a video of me like, going down on you or something. I’ll flip him off the whole time.”
You laugh at that but can’t hide the flustered feeling you get from the thought of Hitoshi doing that. You wouldn’t complain if he did do that, though. “My knight in shining armor.”
“You know it,” he says, flashing a smile at you. You roll your eyes, laying down on the ground. He watches you for a bit, just staring at you as your eyes are closed for a while. “But in all seriousness. I’m really sorry that happened to you. He’s definitely the worst and you did not deserve to go through that. I’m sorry you did.”
“It’s… well, it isn’t really okay, but that’s okay. It’s okay for something to not be okay, you know?”
“I know… I definitely know that. And I’m really sorry that asshole completely ruined an emotion like love for you. You deserve so much better.” You open your eyes at that, giving him a sad smile. “Maybe I’ll get over it someday. But yeah. I wish he didn’t do that, but he really did. I guess I’m just afraid of getting hurt again.”
“I understand completely,” Hitoshi nods, staring back out at the stars meeting the ocean. Suddenly his phone buzzes, causing him to look down at it. “Oh, yeah. It’s like 10:45 over in Japan right now,” he mumbles, unlocking his phone to message his mom back. “Oh? I didn’t realize you were so popular that even in a different country your phone would be blowing up,” you tease him, and he chuckles before giving you the middle finger. “I’m not, my mom is just worried I’ll get alcohol poisoning and die here.”
“Don’t tell her about last night, she’ll shriek.”
He smiles, knowing that she definitely would. That’s when he realizes he’s never really told you about his mom. And that’s just not fair since you basically just poured your heart out to him about your shitty ex. Time to let you know. “She definitely would, and then the nurses would grill me out next time I went to see her.”
“Nurses?”
“Oh, yeah. I never told you, did I? My mom basically lives in the hospital at this point. I mean, not really, but she has to be there a lot for the chemotherapy treatments. She was always a sickly woman, but six months ago she was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer. And, well, they gave her at least three years.” Hitoshi pauses for a moment. The news still makes him emotional, so he’s fighting back the emotions surfacing in him right now. Or at least he’s trying to, but you make it really hard. Especially since you’re immediately wrapped around him. He lets out a shaky sigh before giving you a teary smile. “It’s not okay, but it’s okay for it to not be okay. My dad passed away when I was seven because of an accident on the job, so my mom raised me. Even when I made it nearly impossible, she was always there. So, yeah. It’s… it’s hard. It was hard losing someone I loved when I was a kid, and it hasn’t gotten any easier.”
You don’t say anything at first, just gently push his head into your shoulder. You gently rub his back as you two sit in silence. You know that he’s crying silently, so you just stay there before you break the silence. “I’m here for you, Hitoshi. You can always talk to me about everything going on.”
He nods, setting his guitar to the side, and fully wrapping his arms around you. You run your fingers through his hair to try and help him out. You’ve had a shitty relationship, but that can never compare to Hitoshi’s situation. You could never imagine losing people you loved. At this point, it seems like that emotion just does more harm than good for everyone. No wonder the two of you never want to deal with it again. You’re afraid of getting hurt by someone you love again, and Hitoshi is afraid he’ll lose someone he loves since it seems to keep happening. 
The two of you stayed like that for quite some time, until you noticed the sky beginning to lighten up. “Toshi, look. The sun is rising.”
He pulls himself out of your arms but makes sure to keep one of his around you as he pulls you closer to him. You lay your head on his shoulder and he lays his head on top of yours as the two of you watch the sun rise over Los Angeles. You never thought you would ever see this sight, but it’s certainly beautiful. “(Y/n?)”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For listening. And for comforting me. I haven’t really been able to talk about it with anyone.”
“What about Denki?” you ask, shifting your head and looking up at him. He lets out a chuckle. “I’ve talked about it with him, yeah, but I don’t know. It’s nice having a change of pace and being able to talk to someone else about it, y’know?”
“Yeah, I know. The only person I ever talked to about my guy problems is Mina, so it was really nice talking to you about this stuff.”
He grins. Even though he just reminded himself of the fact that his mother is sick, just the mere fact that you were there with him was enough to make him feel a little bit happier. “What do you say we go to bed now? It’s seven in the morning and we have work to do tomorrow,” he mumbles, and you nod. You would be lying if you said you weren’t tired. Hitoshi stands, extending his hand to you which you happily take. “Too bad we can’t sleep in the same bed again. Mina and Denki will definitely know something is up,” you say with a sigh as you gather up the things you brought to the roof. All of it went untouched, but maybe that was for the better. You were stressing out too hard and your notes probably weren’t even comprehensive. He grabs his guitar and frowns. “Yeah. That really sucks, I like having you with me while I sleep.”
“And I like having you with me,” you say, opening the door that took the two of you to the roof. You both walk silently to his room first since it’s on a higher floor, and he quickly gives you a peck on the lips as a goodnight… er, good morning? Doesn’t matter, he disappeared into his room as quickly as he did it, just leaving you grinning in front of his door like an idiot. 
You quietly walk into your room, being extra careful to not wake Mina even though she wouldn’t wake up if you screamed directly in her ear. You settle into bed, hugging a pillow close to your body and pretending it’s Hitoshi. It does help that your pillow still smelled like him from the night before, too. Lavender and Eucalyptus. Not a scent you ever expected to find extreme comfort in, but here you were. 
Waking up was confusing, since you literally had no idea when you even fell asleep. You wake up around 10:30, exhaustion immediately making itself felt. “You didn’t sleep because you were stressed last night, huh?” Mina asks, sitting on her bed with her headphones on. You shake your head no, letting out a big yawn as you do. Mina sighs, shaking her head before shutting her laptop. “Do you need to sleep in more? I can call Denki and we can go give our information to the band and designers if you would want to sleep in.”
“No, I need to get my information to them earlier rather than later,” you mumble, pulling yourself out of bed and going over to get clothes on for the day. “Whatever you say, but I’m definitely not coming back to the room afterwards and I’m definitely forcing Denki to go to the beach with me because I don’t really want to go alone and I know he’s weak and would never be able to turn me down, so knock yourself out when I’m gone. Literally. Please.”
You laugh at that but nod regardless. That would be very nice, being able to just take a nap while she was off sitting in sand and staring at scantily clad women on the beach. But before you can look forward to that, you need to go tell the band and designers what you need for soundcheck tomorrow and then for the actual performance. You grab your laptop and shove it in a backpack as well as your various notes and look at Mina. “Are you coming too?”
“Oh, definitely. Of course.”
“Great. Is Denki coming?”
“He and Shinsou are already there, actually. Guaranteed it’s because Shinsou dragged his ass there before he had.a chance to protest, but we gotta go.”
You both leave your room, Mina calling an Uber as you make sure you have everything to make this exchange as easy as possible for all parties. “Okay, (Y/n), but seriously. What is up with you and Shinsou? Like, you don’t just fall asleep with someone while drunk, you know that, right?” she asks as the two of you wait outside for your ride. You roll your eyes. “Yes, you do. Especially if y’all are very close friends who happen to both be tired as hell and drunk as hell at the same time.”
“Oh, please. He was literally doting on you the entire time we were at the club. He definitely wants something more with you.”
“No, he really doesn’t. We already talked about all of… that stuff after you and Denki left the room and we thought we were dying. We were just drunk, and he wasn’t doting he was just making sure his friend was okay getting drunk in a new city in a new country.”
Mina narrows her eye at you from suspicion but decides that the story checks out and lets out a dramatic sigh. “I just want you to find someone, you know? I feel like it would help you with everything going on in your life.” “I don’t need someone else to be doing well, Mina. Believe me, I’m just fine on my own.”
“I know, I know. But still. It wouldn’t hurt to see you happy in a relationship.” 
Your Uber arrives and the two of you hop in. You stare out of the window, trying your hardest not to fall asleep in this car as Mina chats the driver’s ear off. Luckily the drive isn’t too long, and you both head inside the theater you’ll be performing at. You walk over to the band, showing them everything you need. You even give examples of what you’re looking for, playing the guitar to get them familiar with it, the piano, bass, drums, all of it. And they are very grateful for it, because they have a shit ton of other contestants that they have to do this for, and not all of them are as nice or ready as you are. You thank them before going over to the designers and showing them the idea you had come up with for the performance. You let the sound designer know that your friends would be singing back-up and how you would like their microphones to sound throughout the performance, and then you move on to telling the lighting designer what you think would look cool. You spend at least twenty-five minutes just talking with them and bouncing ideas back and forth until you all settle on a light show and sound. You thank them again, and then turn to go back to the lobby. 
You find Mina outside talking with Denki and Hitoshi, and as soon as she sees you, she waves you over. You walk over to them, giving Hitoshi and Denki a small wave. You were even more tired now than when you woke up, so talking exudes too much energy that you really need to save. “I told you she didn’t sleep at all. She’s definitely not going to the beach with us,” Mina says to Denki, her tone dripping with an ‘I-told-you-so’ attitude. Denki groans. “But we never get to do anything fun with (Y/n)! Not since the club.” “Are you saying hanging out in your room all together last night wasn’t fun?” Mina challenges and Denki goes silent. “Oh, yeah, I guess it was.”
“Listen, Denki, I think you should just let (Y/n) go home and take a nap. She obviously needs it,” Hitoshi cuts in, masking the concern he’s feeling for you with a dry tone and no expression. “I know, I know. Go back to the hotel and take a fat nap, (Y/n/n). I wanna hang out with you later today, alright?” You nod, getting your phone out to call an Uber back to the hotel. “I already called one, (Y/n/n), you can just ride with me,” Hitoshi says, and you nod. “Aw seriously? You’re not coming either?”
“Denki, I also did not get any sleep last night because I have insomnia, I would also like to just relax for a bit.”
“Okay, fair. But I mean it! We’re all hanging out later!” “Okay, but no drinking. I mean it. We have soundcheck tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
And with that, the Uber arrives and you and Hitoshi pile in. “We are going straight to my room and passing the fuck out because I had a horrible time trying to sleep without you last night, alright?” Hitoshi literally pouts, causing you to laugh. “Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll stop in my room to change into something more comfortable and then-”
“Nope. You’ll wear one of my shirts and a pair of sweatpants that I own, and we will go to sleep as soon as possible. We’re going straight to my room though, because if Denki and Mina burst into any room it’ll be yours.” “Fair point. Okay.”
“Good.”
He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him as your Uber driver winds through traffic. You arrive at the hotel pretty quickly, and you both head on up to his room. He throws some clothes at you and you go in his bathroom to change before coming out and curling up under his covers and into his arms. He pulls you closer to him and pretends like he wasn’t just affected by seeing you in his clothes, but boy oh boy he was. He would like to see you like that more often, to be honest. But he probably wouldn’t, and he knew that, he just kind of really hoped he would. “G’night, Toshi,” you mumble, falling asleep immediately. He chuckles silently, carefully and gently tracing patterns on your back. He got very lucky, and he knows it. Even if you two aren’t dating, he has a cuddle buddy and a music buddy and a kissing buddy who he really really likes. And not like in just a romantic way because he definitely does and he’s doing his best to make sure that feeling doesn’t turn into… something more, but also like in just the fact that you allow him to be himself. It’s amazing, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He falls asleep fairly quickly, too, and you two take a cute little four-hour nap. 
You wake up at two in the afternoon to see Hitoshi already awake and staring at you. “Good morning, kitten,” he says, his ‘I just woke up’ voice very much evident. “Morning,” you mumble, burying your head back into his chest. You feel the vibrations of his laughter in his chest, and grin. “When do you want to actually get up?” he asks, going back to rubbing your back. You shrug. “Probably soon. It is the afternoon, so.”
“Yeah. You’re right there. Do you maybe want to go meet up with Denki and Mina? Go grab some lunch and stuff?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not.”
The two of you get up, Hitoshi changes while you stretch out a bit then you head down to your room so you can actually appear presentable as well. You throw Hitoshi’s clothes in your suitcase, saying you’ll give them back to him later but honestly? You had no desire to give them back. They were too comfortable, and they smelled too much like him. They belonged to you now. He had a hunch that was what you were doing, but he honestly didn’t mind. He brought more casual shirts and sweatpants with him on this trip anyways, you could keep them if you wanted to. And you wanted to. And he lowkey wanted you to, too. You text Mina, asking where they are, and she answers right away. “Looks like they’re at some beachside restaurant, let’s go,” you say, calling an Uber yet again to get to the restaurant. 
When you arrive, Mina and Denki are already a few drinks in, so they were far too excited to see the two of you. Luckily, there were sober people there to make sure they don’t try to annoy the two of you into drinking. Kirshima, Bakugou, Jirou, and Momo are all there, too. Four new people are there as well, the boy with the messy green hair, the really cute brunette girl, the guy who looks like and definitely is a stoner, and the edgy guy whose hair is dyed half white and half red. You two are introduced and you learn that their names are Izuku Midoriya, Uchako Uraraka, Hanta Sero, and Shouto Todoroki. You learn that Sero and Kirishima became friends after getting stuck in the elevator together. You also learn that Uraraka is friends with Jirou and Midoriya and that’s how he and Todoroki ended up coming. Another thing you learn very fast is that Midoriya and Todoroki have fat crushes on each other, but apparently, they aren’t dating yet. It’s kind of cute watching how flustered they get with each other, honestly. You end up hanging out with all of them for the rest of the day, occasionally getting filmed by a UA Idol camera crew going around to catch what the contestants are doing on their days off. It was actually really fun. You got to know these new people and you really liked them, they were super cool. And it was a nice way to destress. 
You never expected to make so many new friends, all from different places. This competition is giving more opportunities and friendships to you than you expected it to, but hey. You were NOT complaining about it. It was also funny to see the different dynamics everyone brought to this little hang out. Bakugou would call everyone and extra or a dumbass, but when it came to Kiri he was softer and somehow gentle with him. It was hilarious to hear him call Midoriya a piece of shit waste of space and then immediately go mom mode because Kirishima said something he ate made him feel a little bad. And then Midoriya was equally as hilarious. He was this cute little positive boy covered with freckles and smiles, but the minute that Bakugou would be rude he would somehow insult him on his biggest insecurities without batting an eye. You don’t know how he did it, but if it weren’t for Kirishima and Todoroki you’re pretty sure they would have gotten into a fist fight. Uraraka was very similar to Midoriya in that regard, whereas Todoroki was very bad at picking up social cues and kept a cool and calm demeanor through anything. Of course, Jirou and Denki were flirting the whole time, but the way she flirts is by being mean, which Denki lowkey loves. And Momo and Mina are getting along very well, they’re kind of exact opposites which makes them work nearly perfectly. 
Just hanging out with them was ridiculously fun, and you really hoped that this wouldn’t be the last time. Based off of all of their performances that you had seen, they all would be able to get through to live shows. You just wondered if you would be able to pull of getting to the live shows. Luckily for you, every time you got lost in thought, Hitoshi would subtly squeeze your hand to pull you back into reality. At this point, you don’t know what you would do without him. And that scares you too. Not because of the growing feelings you have for him, because they aren’t there, duh, but because if he makes it through and you didn’t, you would have to go back to Japan without him. And that’s the worst thought because you know he’ll make it. And you know Mina and Denki will too. You’d like to believe you will, but will you really? Your phone suddenly buzzes, and you look at it to see a text from… Hitoshi?
‘kitten, the anxiety is radiating off of your body. just relax, okay? i know you’re nervous but everything will be okay, i promise. besides, everyone at this table is here for you and feeling the same nerves you are. for now, just try to relax and enjoy this time. oh, and i’m also buying your food. sorry not sorry’
You grin a bit, especially since immediately after you read it you feel your other hand get squeezed in reassurance. He really knew how to make you feel better. And even going into the next day, he was constantly reassuring and helping you. And you were doing the same for him. Soundchecks were now going on, and while you were nervous, you weren’t as nervous anymore. You had watched Mina go already, as well as Denki, Kiri, Bakugou, and Uraraka. Now, it was Hitoshi’s turn, which meant you were up there, singing harmonies with him. His soundcheck went really well, they set everything for him, and he was good to go after two runs of his song. Then you were up. Now don’t get it wrong, even though you were less nervous doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous at all. Quite the opposite, actually. You were still worried things would go wrong, but you know that if that’s a thing then it’ll get fixed. You just really care and want everything to be okay. And it was! Soundcheck went really well, the lighting show was great, your microphone was adjusted, the band knew exactly what to do, you knew exactly what to do everything went perfect! And you were very happy about it. 
“I told you everything would be fine,” Hitoshi says to you after your soundcheck is over. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him. “I can’t control my nerves sir.”
“I know, but I still told you everything would be fine. Do what you did today tomorrow, and you’re guaranteed a spot in the live shows.”
“Well, thank you, but you do know that same statement applies to you, too, right?”
“Mmmm, no I could have done better.”
“Hitoshi Shinsou, I swear to GOD.”
He laughs at your tone and the look on your face, putting his hands up in defeat. While the two of you were talking, Midoriya leaned over to Mina and asked the golden question that everyone wanted to know. “So, are they a thing?” “I wish I knew Midoriya,” she whispers, and Denki joins in. “They won’t let up on the idea that love is bullshit, so here they are, dating without actually dating and ignoring any and all assistance we try to give them.”
“Huh… is this what Todoroki and I are like?”
“Yes.” This time Uraraka butts in, sending Midoriya a glare. He instantly turns bright red, causing Denki to bite back a laugh. “Just ask him out, bro. You know he’ll say yes,” Denki says, patting him on the back. “Yeah! And that way, the three of you can join the groupchat we have devoted to spying on them and plotting to get them in a relationship!” Uraraka snaps her head towards Mina so fast that she probably should have gotten whiplash from it or something. “That’s a thing?”
“Yeah.”
“Why am I not in it yet?”
And that’s how Uraraka got in the group. But not Midoriya. He only got in after he asked Todoroki to be his boyfriend. Now there were two secret operations going on, and both parties were literally completely oblivious to everything going on between each other. Funny how that works. 
For you and Hitoshi though, the focus was mainly on the competition. The final round of Hell Week was tomorrow, after all. No matter what happened, your lives were definitely about to change.
19 notes · View notes
soybeantree · 4 years
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pairing: kim junmyeon x reader
genre/warning: fluff, magic!au
word count: 5k+
description: apparently blowing off some steam - one too many times - leads to a one way ticket to servantdom. at least that’s how you viewed the newest link in the perverbial chain called ‘eventual obligations of being a familiar’. turns out it actually doesn’t matter how much you argue the rightness of your life choices to the higher ups. and turns out you don’t mind being attached to a certain kim junmyeon all that much either.
a/n: from the ‘rosemary by moonlight’ universe. not necessary to read that first, but some things may not make complete sense. we’ve been working on fleshing out this universe, so there will be more to come very soon!
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The assignment sheet mocks you, promising the end of your freedom. You ball up the paper and throw it in the nearest trash bin. It doesn’t matter though, the damn sheet will show up on your bedside table tomorrow. Once signed a contract is unbreakable. It’s only six months though. You continue to remind yourself as irritation crawls across your skin.
Shoving your hands into your pocket, you head towards the exit but pause when you catch sight of a familiar figure. “Yuri!” You call. The healer turns. Her brows furrow when she sees your raised hand. She returns the wave and stops as you jog up to her. “What are you doing here?” 
“City Council business.” She gestures to the hall she came down. The doors at the end lead to the City Council Chambers.”
“But you’re not on the City Council.
“Only because it’s full of bigoted assholes.” She scoffs as she resumes walking. You fall into step beside her.
“Doesn’t your family head the City Council and make up about half of it?”
“Doesn’t mean their not bigoted assholes. Anyways, what are you doing here?” She reaches for the exit door and holds it open for you. 
The sun glares down at you, causing your eyes to transform. Cat eyes are easier to adjust to the bright light which outweighs the con of seeing everything in black and white. “I was picking up an assignment.”
“What?!” Your shoulders hunch, and you hiss. Yuri laughs and slaps you on the shoulder as she comes up beside you. “Don’t get your whiskers in a twist. I just never thought the day would come when Y/N would tie herself down to a sorcerer.”
“It’s not voluntary.” Your mumbling quirks Yuri’s brow. “I may have started a riot with my neighborhood cats,” you explain, quickly adding, “but I had good reason. This dick wad kid at the end of my street keeps shooting at strays with his pellet gun. I reported him to the neighborhood watch, but they did jack shit. So I took it upon myself to right the wrong.” Yuri nods along approvingly as you head down the steps in front of Town Hall, and you smile. If she or Uko were on the Board of Familiars, your hearing would have gone in your favor. 
“Long story short, the dick wad’s father brought charges against me, and the Board of Familiars thought my rebellious behavior is due to a lack of an authority figure in my life and that I have gone too long without a master. After all, what is a familiar without a master?” You roll your eyes and scoff.
“That’s ridiculous, so you had to sign your entire life away?”
You shake your head as you reach the sidewalk and head toward the nearby bus stop. “Familiar Law may be traditional, but it’s not barbaric. I signed a six month contract, and I’ll have an evaluation at the end. If I’m good, they’ll let me decide when and who my next master is.”
“They chose your master?” You nod. “Who?” She asks as the bus pulls up to the stop. The one question, you had hoped to avoid. You use the excuse of boarding the bus to delay your response, but all too soon, you two are sitting. She stares at you waiting for an answer. 
“Jun- Suho.” You correct yourself. “Why do sorcerers have to take a new name when they gain the title? It’s so stupid. He was Junmyeon all through school, and now that he has the fancy title of Sorcerer, I have to call him Suho.” You blabber on, avoiding her gaze. “It’s not like there are a lot of options in the area.” You huff.
“I know.” Yuri sighs, and you chance a glance at her. She’s staring out the window. You nudge her, but she waves you off. It’s not her fault that her family has only produced one sorcerer in the past two generations, but that argument has grown tiresome.
A mischievous grins tugs at your lips, and you settle into your seat. “Yep, so it was either Suho or Kyungsoo – whatever his sorcerer name is – and I didn’t think you’d like me being his familiar.”
Yuri whips around. “It’s D.O, and why would I care if you were his familiar?” You shrug but continue to grin. She glares, and you crack up. “Are you going to meet up with Suho now? He was at the Town Council meeting.”
“Fuck no. The contract doesn’t start till tomorrow, and I plan to enjoy my last night of freedom. Do you want to join me?” You cock a brow, but she shakes her head.
“Can’t. Chanyeol’s in town, and I promised him I would help him with something. Stop by my house in the morning though if you need a hangover remedy.” She offers as she presses the button for her stop.
“You’re the best.” After a quick grin, she is off, leaving you to your night of revelry.
The revelry should have stopped at 11:59. After all, come midnight, your six months of servitude began, but you had to push your boundaries, had to stay out till dawn drinking and dancing. 
Standing in front of Junmyeon’s townhouse after two hours of sleep and with a stomach threatening to unleash everything you imbibed during the last twelve hours, you question your life choices. With a shrug, you step forward and hammer the door. 
Nothing. No creak as the door swings open on rusty hinges and no smoke billowing from an empty corridor. No faint wail of departed spirits welcoming you to a place of death and despair. You definitely have suggestions for your sorcerer, and with Halloween around the corner, they are desperately needed.
Raising your fist again, you pound out the opening to Beethoven’s 5th symphony. Before you make it too far into the song, the door swings open soundlessly to reveal a sleep disheveled Junmyeon in purple silk pajamas with a matching silk robe. 
“I expected the robe. The pajamas not so much.” You comment as you lower your sunglasses to allow a full examination.
With a huff, Junmyeon jerks his robe closed. “What are you doing here, Kitty?”
Your lips pull back as you hiss at the nickname. Middle schoolers think they’re so clever. But the stupid nickname has stuck with you through high school and beyond. Shoving past Junmyeon, you enter the house. He blusters behind you, but you hear the door click shut soon after. 
“Didn’t you hear?” You ask as you glance around the impeccably groomed foyer. Every vase, frame, and piece of furniture glistens with a fresh coat of polish. “Do you clean all of this yourself or do you have a spell for that?” You turn back to face him, pulling your shades off and tucking them into the top you’d pulled out of your laundry basket that morning. It was the clean laundry basket, but it has been sitting on your bedroom floor for upwards of two weeks.
“Hear what?”
“I’m your Familiar.” You sweep your arms out and pop a hip as you dazzle him with your million-watt smile. 
He stares at you, mouth parted and chest still, for entirely too long. As a Familiar your magic extends beyond the ability to shift and a photographic memory, but not to immobilizing sorcerers. 
“Would you stop being a dick and say something? Listen, I’m not happy about this either. I’m even less happy that the stupid Board of Familiars didn’t give you a heads-up even though this was their brilliant idea. But here I am and here you are, and we’re stuck together for the next six months. We should just be happy that they didn’t insist that I live with you. 
“Now, do you have any ginger tea? My stomach is all kinds of upset, and I didn’t have time to stop by Yuri’s and get her hangover remedy.” You about-face and head towards where you think the kitchen is.
“Other way.”
You about-face again and head in the other direction. The kitchen is as disgusting as the foyer. He has everything in glass jars with labels, but none of them have ginger tea written on them.
“In the cabinet to the right of the microwave.” He directs you as he takes a seat at the counter. 
You swivel the Lazy Susan until you find the jar of ginger tea. “Mugs? Tea kettle?” 
He stands and stomps over to another cabinet to grab a mug. Filling it from the sink, he hands it to you, steam rising above the rim. You cock a brow. He returns the gesture, and you snort grabbing the mug and dropping a tea bag in it. “Look at you warming water without a spell. You really are a sorcerer, aren’t you?” You tease as you wait for your tea to steep.
“I didn’t ask for a Familiar, and I don’t need one.”
“And I didn’t ask for a sorcerer, and I don’t want one. But yet again, here we are?”
“Six months?” You nod. “And you signed a contract?” You nod again. “I didn’t sign.”
“Apparently a request was made by the head of your family. No signature needed when it’s stamped with the family crest.”
Junmyeon sighs, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Why is my grandfather like this?”
“We’d all like to know that.” You blow on the tea before taking a tentative sip. The warmth slips through your body easing through your stomach and bringing it to rest. “Did Minseok make this tea blend?” You ask as you take another sip. 
He shakes his head, his cheeks tinging pink. “No, he only works with coffee.”
“You got this from Yuri, didn’t you? How did you swing that?”
“If we are going to be working together for the next six months, we need to set some ground rules.” He sneaks by your question, and you let him because you agree. “Let me shower and change, and then we can go over them.” You nod, sipping at your tea. He starts to walk off but stops and swivels back to face you. “Don’t touch anything.” You roll your eyes, and he narrows his.
“Calm down, Mr. Sensitive. Sorcerers aren’t the only ones who know about the delicate nature of magic.” His lips purse, but whatever retort he has remains unspoken. He walks off, and you shake your head. This is going to be a long six months. 
Strolling out of the kitchen, you follow the scent of magic up to the second story of the townhouse. The door to Junmyeon’s work room is locked, but what good of a Familiar would you be if that stopped you. The door pops open, and the scent of magic overwhelms you. Sneezing, you glance around. The large still at the end draws your attention. Witches simply brew their potions in a cauldron, but sorcerers have to be pretentious and make it seem like their work is more advanced and complicated. 
Passing in front of a mirror, you pause and raise a brow. Surely, Junmyeon knows the mirror is an open dimension portal. Why he would have an open dimension portal is beyond you, but he must have a reason. You stand in front of the mirror, chewing on the inside of your lip. He said not to touch anything, and you had given your word. However, you would be a shitty Familiar if you left the portal open. 
Eyes closed, you breathe in and out, feeling your magic hum through your hair and all the way to your toes. Your bones reform themselves, and your skin shrinks itself as fur sprouts across it. When you open your eyes, the world appears in shades of grey, except for the creatures on the other side of the mirror. They glow a sinister black. Raising a paw, you rest the pads against the cool glass. It ripples at your touch. The creatures stir, and you hiss at them to stay back. Your claws are good for more than catching mice. 
Magic surges through you, and you purr at the sensation. Releasing the magic, you watch as it coats the mirror’s glass. The rippling surface stills, and when you stare at it, only your reflection stares back.
“What are you doing?” Junmyeon’s scream grates on your ears, and you hiss at him. “I told you not to touch anything.”
And I wouldn’t if you weren’t stupid enough to leave an open portal in your work room. Who knows what shit those creatures would have caused in here. Your words are unspoken. They call upon your magic to reach him, and judging by his frown, they did.
“The portal wasn’t open.”
You cough, your throat unable to snort. Wow. Now I understand why your grandfather requested a Familiar for you. 
He bristles, his shoulders rolling back as he draws himself up to his full height which is considerable from where you sit on the floor. “I was doing quite well without one. I am close to a breakthrough on my research, and I will not have you causing me any delays.”
Delays? I’ve been here for less than an hour, and I’ve already saved your research. 
“Will you become human, please? We have a lot to discuss.”
You shrug, and by the time your shoulders settle into place, you are human again. “Better?”
With a nod, he heads to his work table and sits down on one of the stools, indicating you should take the other. 
Stretching, you ease the tightness which always comes from transformation and do as requested. Junmyeon starts talking, but the burbling beakers behind him capture your attention. One’s color shifts from bright blue to dark purple as you watch. Above it, a valve releases a droplet of water in ten seconds intervals. The liquid continues to darken with each drop. 
“I have a feeling that you don’t want that turning black.” You cut Junmyeon off as you point to the beaker. 
He glances over his shoulder and nearly falls off his stool as he rushes to remove the beaker from under the valve. He curses and mutters low to himself as he sloshes the liquid around. A light traces the surface of the glass before disappearing. Junmyeon sets the beaker on the table and scratches the back of his head. His eyes focus on a shaft of light coming through one of the work rooms' high windows. He continues to mutter, and you stand, moving closer to him to catch the vein of his thoughts. But, he senses your presence and steps back, glowering at you.
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m your Familiar. I’m supposed to help you with your magical problems, but I can’t do that if I don’t know what they are.”
“We have not established the rules of our relationship, and I don’t need your help.” He places his hand on the beakers top, muttering a spell. The liquid disappears, and he picks up the empty vessel, carrying it over to a previously unnoticed cauldron. You smile to yourself. Maybe, he’s not as pretentious as you thought. Returning with a bright green liquid circling the base of the beaker, he sets it under the valve and adjusts its speed, increasing the time between drips. 
“What are you working on?” You ask and quickly add. “I’m your Familiar. I should know.”
“We are setting up our ground rules.” He retakes his stool and you plop into yours, propping your head against your palm. The tea calmed your stomach, but using magic while hungover and exhausted is brewing a nasty headache. 
“Fine. Can we make it quick though? I need a nap.” 
“First, you are not to enter my home if I am not present.”
You nod. The movement sends a stab of pain through your head. “Going forward. If I don’t say anything, I agree. Also, even though my eyes are close, I am still listening.”
“Why did you go so hard last night?”
You grunt in response. “Consider it my ‘bachelorette party’. Gotta party hard before-“ You stop when you feel cool finger tips against your temple. Cracking an eye open, you still. Junmyeon’s face is a breath from yours. His eyes, warm as a sunrise, focus on you. His lips, soft and supple, part. His words are a whisper, but your mind fails to process anything he says. Magic flows from his fingertips. The ache in your head eases. 
He steps back, his eyes still upon you. “How does that feel?”
You stare at him, both eyes wide open, and your mouth silent. Your brain has forgotten what words are and how speaking works. 
“Y/N?”
“Better.” The response is a guttural growl. You clear your throat and repeat in your regular voice. 
“Given the current circumstance,” he says as he reclaims his seat. “The second rule is do not show up to my house drunk or hungover.” You nod. “Three, do not touch anything without my permission.” You roll your eyes but motion for him to continue. “Four, do not give advice unless I ask for it.”
“Yeah, that’s not possible.” You smirk at him. “I’m a Familiar. My job is to give unsolicited advice. Like you should try a different type of water to purify that potion.” You point back to the beaker which is once again on its way to black. 
Junmyeon’s head falls back as he groans. Your attention catches on the strong column of his throat. You shake the image out your head. Your close encounter has addled your brain. Junmyeon is an Essem, and you shouldn’t be staring at any part of him.
“I don’t understand.” He growls, and you refocus on the darkening potion. “This water was charged during the full moon and distilled by my cousin. It should work.” He grabs the beaker, vanishing the contents once again. This time though he does not refill it. Instead, he sets it down and pulls a leather journal from a shelf above his work bench. 
“Charged during one full moon or many?” He glances up from his notes, a question in his glance. You sigh. “Water charged during one full moon is fine for scrying, but if you’re trying to purify a potion and make it stronger that shit isn’t gonna work. You need stronger water. What’s the potion and what do you want to accomplish?”
His finger taps against the journal, and his whole face scrunches up. 
With a huff, you stand up and walk towards him. He pulls the book to his chest before you can catch a glimpse of anything. “Really? What do you think I’m going to do? Run off to the Stahns and tell them what you’re working on? They don’t use spies.” You pause, allowing the weighted silence to convey what you are leaving unsaid. “And even if they did. I wouldn’t spy for them. Despite how much I fucking hate the Familiar institution, I do uphold our value of loyalty.”
He lowers his arms. You snatch the journal from him. He makes a noise, but you ignore him as you flip through the pages allowing your magic to commit it all to memory. “Do you really think you can make an invisibility potion last longer?”
“Yes, I think that by purifying a potion, you can increase both potency and longevity. I’m trying to establish the process with an invisibility potion and then expand to other potions.” His shoulders go back and his chest puffs up as he speaks, but his voice quavers revealing a glimpse through the peacocks feathers.
You nod, turning a page. “Why potions? I always thought sorcerers were more interested in spells and rituals.”
“Spells and rituals are fun.” His chest deflates as he rearranges the equipment on his desk. “And you get a lot more prestige from accomplishments with them, but they aren’t that useful for everyday life and people.”
You pause on a page, the scribbles already committed to memory. Junmyeon has the fancy script of a sorcerer, but perhaps not the motivation. “But a long lasting invisibility potion is?” You smirk as you snap the journal closed and hold it out to him. “I feel like that’s only useful for pervy teens and maybe thieves. Which is your market?”
“Neither.” He snatches the book from your hand. “It’s a basic potion, an easy starting point. I don’t intend to hand it out to anybody who asks.”
You shrug but continue to smirk. “Any more rules?”
He shakes his head. “But I reserve the right to additional ones as I see fit.”
“I reserve the right to argue them. I accept the first three, but not the fourth.” You hold out your hand, allowing your magic to fill it. After a moment’s hesitation, he grasps it. His magic meets yours, sealing the agreement. “Alright, now that’s settled, I’ll let you get back to work while I try to figure out your water problem.” He sputters out a response which you ignore as you head out of the room. 
Three weeks in the Essem library leaves you more frustrated than the day you were forced to sign your damn contract. Getting access to the library had been bitch enough. Grandpa Essem had been adamant that no outsider should have access to their family’s knowledge and especially not someone with a photographic memory. When you pointed out to him that he was the one who had registered Junmyeon for a familiar, he had blustered insensible nonsense which you had tuned out. In the end, it took Junmyeon and Kyungsoo vouching for you and a gag spell before he allowed you access.
Not that the library has been any help. The Essem’s have plenty of books about enchantments, spells, rituals, charms, and all other forms of high magic, but something as simple as supercharging water no. Aside from spending the next three years charging the same water during each full moon, you are at a loss, and that would not be practical for Junmyeon’s purposes. 
“You wouldn’t happen to know any aquamentals would you?” You ask Yuri as you spin in her swivel chair. 
“No. You know how rare elemental magic is.” She glances between her notebook and the ritual she has set up on the table. A bowl sits in the middle. She said it was a salve for wounds which would help knit flesh back together if she could empower it properly.
“Yeah.” You sigh, giving yourself another push.
“You’re going to make yourself sick.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m with a healer.” She ignores your comment. “You work with charged water don’t you.”
“I’m not offering any advice that will be used to help an Essem.”
You scowl. “Don’t think of it as helping an Essem. Think of it as helping one of your oldest friends.”
“Who is working with an Essem.”
“Don’t you owe Kyungsoo for something.”
Her hands ball into fists. “Junmyeon is not Kyungsoo.”
“What if I convince Kyungsoo that this counts?” 
“No.” She snaps her notebook closed, ending the conversation.  She closes her eyes and draws upon her magic. You can smell it in the air, a hint of herbs and growing things. Sweat breaks across her forehead, but even with all her effort, it is only a hum compared to the current of Junmyeon’s magic. She places her hands on the table. For a moment, the ritual hums. You hold your breath. The magic fizzles, sputters, and explodes. The contents of the bowl covering the table, Yuri, the ceiling. You manage to stay clear of the blast zone.
Yuri unleashes a string of curses and nearly flips the table before collapsing back in her chair and banging her head on the table. “This should not be so hard.” She moans.
 As you fumble for something to say, the workshop door opens. “Uko.” You breathe a sigh of relief. She has always been better at cheering Yuri up. She also believes that magical knowledge should be accessible by all. “Really quick before you help Yuri, what’s the best way to charge water? And don’t say moonlight because I’ve tried that and it’s not powerful enough.”
“Which crystals have you used?” She asks as the door closes behind her.
“Doesn’t matter. None of them could give the water a high enough charge.” You wheel towards her, grabbing onto her hand and peering up at her with the softest kitty eyes you can muster. “Please you’ve read so much.”
“You know you look creepy not cute when you only transform your eyes.” She taps your forehead before walking to Yuri. She brushes against you, swiveling you to face them both. Yuri is continuing to bang her head. 
“Stop it.” She commands. Yuri drops her head with a final thud.
“You still haven’t answered my question.” You whine.
Uko shakes her head as she glances between the two of you. “If crystal and moonlight isn’t enough then you would have to steep it with an object of pure magic.” 
“Where the fuc-” But your brain answers the question before you can finish. You’re an idiot. A straight idiot. “Thank you, Uko. You’re the best.” You jump out of the chair and wrap the girl in a quick hug. “Also, Yuri, I’m pretty certain Kyungsoo would help you with your ritual if you asked.” She lunges at you, but you dart out of her reach, laughing as you head for the door. 
A week later, you skip into Junmyeon’s workroom, positively purring. If your idea was successful which you know it will be, you will see the results today. As you cross the door’s threshold, your footsteps falter. Junmyeon stands at his work table with his back towards you. Red tinges his magic, leaving the taste of sulfur on your tongue. “Suho?”
“Kitten,” the word is a low growl. Not Kitty, Kitten. Anger or, perhaps, fear should explain the surge of blood through your system, but it takes second place. An unwanted and unwarranted emotion causes warmth to travel from cheeks to toes. You have been spending way too much time with Junmyeon. 
“I have a name.” You spit back, calling on your anger.
Junmyeon’s hands clench on his work table. “Where did you get the water?”
Fear rises and mingles with your anger. Neither produces an answer though. The words remain locked within your throat. 
As he turns to face you fear overwhelms every emotion. You had misinterpreted the red. Rather than anger; fear has mixed with his magic. Fear for you if the Council finds out? Fear for himself. Regardless, his fear frightens you. “From the Lake.” He knows which lake. He knew before he asked. 
“Why?” His voice breaks on the question and brings your head low.
“We were out of options.” You whisper. “There are no spells for charging water, we don’t know any aquamentals, and relying on the full moon would have taken too long. The Lake has been steeping for centuries.”
“Steeping dark magic.”
You scoff at that. “Magic is neither dark nor light. It’s magic. We are dark and light and use magic to suit our purposes.”
He presses his lips together until they are a thin line across his face. You swallow the rest of your argument. In the current conversation, it is irrelevant. Junmyeon knows it too.
“It is forbidden to go to the Lake or take its water.”
“Only because the Council is full of bigoted assholes.” You borrow Yuri’s description. “Just because they think they know everything doesn’t mean they do. The spells placed on the Lake are older and more powerful than anything the sorcerers of today can conjure. The Stahns may be diminished in power now, but they were at the height of their power when they sealed away the Paen’s sorceress. Taking a beaker of water isn’t going to do anything to those spells. Short of draining the lake of all its water, I don’t think there is anything we could do today to affect those spells.”
“Regardless, it is the law, and you broke it.” His fist pounds on the table behind him, shaking the still. The invisibility potion, clear with only a hint of green, ripples beside his fist.
“Are you-“ The question sticks in your throat like a hairball. You cough. “Then be a good little Essem and turn me in.” You call on the remnants of your anger and force the fear out.
“No.” Your eyes snap to his. You were ready for the Council to come storming in and bind your magic for the rest of your life.
“No?”
“No.” He leans against the table and folds his arms across his chest. “I should because that was stupid and reckless.” He sighs and shakes his head. “But you are my Familiar. You acted to help me. More importantly though.” He holds your gaze, offering a glimpse of the deepest depths of his soul. “You are my friend, and I trust you.” 
You run your tongue across your lips, suddenly parched. Friend? You have known Junmyeon since kindergarten. You have been his line buddy, his teammate, his lab partner, but he has always been an Essem. A bigoted asshole and the enemy. You nod. 
“Thank you, friend.” You smile at the odd taste of the word. He returns the smile. “Do we go back to work now?”
“I’m adding another rule.” Pushing himself off the bench, he comes to stand before you and extends a hand. “Please consult me before you break any laws.” With a chuckle, you reach for his hand, but pull back and cock a brow. His face furrows as you tuck your hand behind your back. 
“Before I agree I have a rule of my own.” He sighs and crosses his arms, nodding for you to continue. “Don’t call me Kitten again unless you mean it.”
“What do you mean ‘mean it’?”
“You’ll know what I mean if you mean it.” You purr. 
A flush creeps up his neck, but he clears his throat and shakes it off. “Fine.” He offers his hand again. This time, you take it and let your joined magic rush through you. 
21 notes · View notes
ethelphantom · 5 years
Text
Aroma Mocha
So, I'm still kinda sorry about the previous fic, but maybe this coffee shop AU for day 20 makes up for it. 5k of pure humour and fluff, angst nowhere to be seen, I swear. Seriously, I give you my word, you will not need to cry tears of sadness here. Maybe scream at your screen because these two are idiots but like it's still just humour and fluff so.... But yeah. Have fun! Also remember that if you want to be tagged to my Daminette December still, just hit me up! (Or possibly this AU, if I decide to continue it because it was so fun to write.)
Ao3
This is Maribat -- don’t like; don’t read.
____
Damian walked (if you asked anyone else, they would have told you he stormed in rather than calmly walked) into the shop with a scowl on his face, mostly to escape from the horrible weather outside. The bell chimed above his head as he pushed the door open, and immediately he could sense the air in the shop was both sweet and bitter as it enveloped him.
“Hello and welcome to Aroma Mocha! What can I get for you today, sir?” the young woman behind the counter said, a wide smile on her face. Damian could definitely see why it was called the Aroma Mocha, the entire space was filled with different aromas. Somehow, none of them clashed with each other.
“Hi… I’d like to have a mochaccino, please,” he decided rather quickly, quite sure that was what his brother had called the coffee he got Damian last time they were in a coffee shop.
“Sure! Name?”
“Damian.”
“Great! You want to drink it here or are you going to take it with you?”
Damian noted the strong French accent the woman had. She’d probably moved here only lately. Maybe if she seemed to struggle with English at all, he’d change to French for her.
“I’ll have it here, thanks.”
“Alright. That would be five dollars, please.”
Damian took out his wallet and gave her the amount she asked for, putting the same amount of money to the tips jar on the counter. She flashed a bright smile at him, and he really wasn’t sure whether it was the most annoying or the most wonderful thing he’d seen all day. Perhaps it was both.
“Great. You can either wait here ot find yourself a table, I’ll call your name soon, monsieur.”
And there was the first slip-up with languages. Goodness. It’s not like it never happened to him, but it was regardless a little frustrating. He decided he was going to pay attention to her English and change to French if it continued for too long.
(Spoiler alert, he never did.)
After a few minutes of waiting and going through his new notifications, the woman was back.
“A mochaccino for… Daemon!”, the barista called and set the cup on the counter before she went back to her job.
And did she really just call him “Daemon”? No, that was unlikely. Maybe it was just her accent that made him hear thi— aaaaannnd she totally said Daemon. That was the name written on the cup.
Well, that was fine. Maybe she just heard something wrong. It’s not like she did it out of spite or anything. Besides, the coffee was quite good, so that compensated for it.
A few days later, he came back to Aroma Mocha. He’d all of a sudden found himself craving the mochachino the barista had made — though Damian would never admit that to any soul, especially not a living one and perhaps not even a dead one — and hoped she was there to make him more of it.
“Oh hi, welcome back! What can I get you this time?” the young woman said, spinning around to see who had entered the shop. She seemed to recognise him immediately.
“I’d like the same kind of mochaccino as last time, please. Again, my name is Damian,” he said, his tone rather cold. He was irritated from having to deal with his brothers for the entire day and right now, even the idea of getting called by the wrong name was more than a little annoying. If he was taking it out a little on the barista, well, it didn't matter to him.
A strained (and yet somehow bright — Damian was sure any normal person would consider it a genuine one) smile on her face, the barista replied, “Yes, of course, sir.”
He nearly missed the flashing smirk on her face, gone as soon as it had appeared. If Damian had been someone else and not as used to having to pay attention to the shifts in others’ expressions, if he wasn’t sure he’d seen it on her face, he would have likely convinced himself he was just seeing things. But, as it was, he knew it had been there, even if only for the mere second. Well, maybe it didn’t mean anything.
“A coffee for Daymein!”
And yes, there was definitely a wrong name on the cup, but as no one else made a move to get it either, he decided it was his. Once again, the drink was heavenly. The woman’s ability to spell his name was not.
But, two was still just a coincidence. He didn’t pay much mind to it aside from his light annoyance.
Third time was definitely a pattern.
“Deymun!”
He was getting more and more irritated. He’d been to the coffee shop thrice now, and every time the same barista got his name wrong. Even so, he was too stubborn to leave since she made excellent coffee (though Drake wouldn’t agree with him on that, he said it was rather a milkshake than actual coffee), and besides, now that she’d done it already three times, Damian was determined to make sure she called him by his actual name at least once. He would not leave before that, not even if it took him months.
“So, the same as last time? Or do you want to try something else this time?” the barista asked, smiling at him like she always did. Damian checked her name from the name tag. “Mari,” it said.
“Well, what would you recommend, Marie?” he asked, revelling in the offended look he got from her. What was bad was that seconds later it turned into a smirk and there was mischievous laughter in her eyes, and Damian was sure that meant he was in it now.
“Do you prefer the sugary, less coffee-like things more, or would you like to try an actual coffee for once?” she asked, her tone teasing. Drake would probably love her and get along with her faster than he could say coffee. Yeah, he was not going to let them meet. Mari arched her eyebrow, her stance clearly challenging him. Well, who was he to turn down a challenge? No real Wayne and no true Al Ghul would ever turn down a challenge, no way.
“I would like to have more of an actual coffee, as you called it, miss.”
“Would you rather get an americano or a long black? Or perhaps something else?”
He was certain she made sure he would catch on the way she mentioned the — long black, was it? — coffee earlier, daring him to try. He wouldn’t back down now, no way.
“A long black sounds good.”
“Great, I’ll have your drink prepared as soon as possible.”
A guy with blue hair took over the counter as she whispered something to him and started making the coffee. The guy looked over to him with a nearly unnoticeable smirk on his face before he turned to the new customer, his tone sweet but strong. The girl ordering the drink nearly swooned.
“A long black for Damodar ,” she called.
Oh it was on.
This time Damian had to admit the victory was Mari’s as he nearly spit out his coffee, hating every second of it. He was simply unable to not drink it as he could feel her shooting glances and gloating grins disguised as sweet smiles his way every now and then. He had no other choice.
When he came in for the fourth time, he decided to take the same drink, simply asking for an even stronger version of it. Marinette raised her brow, surprised and suspicious of him. He was sure she knew how it had affected him the previous time, but there was no way he was admitting he couldn’t stand it. Maybe he would just dumb a whole lot of sugar in there when she wasn’t looking so he could handle it better.
“Et mademoiselle Marilène , for the record, my name’s Damian.”
Her eye twitched even as she kept on smiling. “I’m sorry, D’occasion, what was that you were saying? I couldn’t hear you properly because you spoke so quietly.”
Damian couldn’t remember the last time he got as strong of an urge to turn on his heel and march away as he did right then and there. He didn’t, though, as he was not ready to admit victory to the girl now, if ever. If it meant he was going to keep coming there until she quit her job or called him by the correct name, he was not going to give up. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to keep doing so anyway.
The fifth time Damian asked for a new drink.
“Oh, pretty boy couldn’t take his drink after all? Luka, tu me dois 10 euros, j'ai gagné.”
The blue haired man groaned though there was still a smile on his face. “D’accord, Ma-Ma-Marinette.”
So both of them were French. How great.
Damian ended up cutting off the two of them and tried to make himself sound like he really hadn’t minded the strong, disgusting coffee, all the while noting the way the other barista had called Mari. Maybe he could use it one day? “I would simply like to try something new. Anything else you’d like to suggest?”
Mari smiled, a knowing glint dancing in her eyes. “Well, since you clearly didn’t enjoy strong black coffee, I’m gonna propose you try vienna. It is still strong, but it has whipped cream in it so it smoothes out the taste a little. How’s that sound?”
Damian bit back from commenting on her grammar (it was difficult, but he managed, somehow) as he considered her suggestion. It did sound more enjoyable than the previous one anyway. “Alright, I’ll take that.”  
The woman looked victorious as he accepted her suggestion before she went to make his coffee. She also seemed so thoughtful he was sure she was trying to come up with a new name to call him. This time he was prepared though. As she picked up a pen, he opened his mouth, “I’m sure you have a hard time spelling my name, seeing as you aren’t from around here, but I can help you. It’s spelled D-A-M-I-A-N. Damian. Should be very simple and easy even with your brain, miss barista.”
So, maybe he was being an asshole, but this woman had misspelled his name enough many times to justify it, alright. If she was offended, she managed to conceal it very well.
“A vienna for Dandin,”, she called out a few minutes later.
It was his turn to be offended. She was holding out the drink instead of leaving it on the counter this time, and as he took it from her, she leaned forwards and whispered so quietly even he could only barely hear, “payback, you crétin.” He couldn’t even say anything back anymore, his pride wouldn’t allow him. Besides, maybe he deserved it.
Maybe.
Yeah, but even so, he was not letting it go.
It went on and on, and she came up with a lot of new names while at it. Somehow, she’d even gotten the man with hair dyed blue in it, as the few times Mari hadn’t been there and this Luka had, he’d called out Dandy, Danail and Damijan. At least those were closer to his actual name.
That once when he’d told her his name was Damian Wayne and managed to got all of the attention of the cafe, she’d simply laughed and written Devin Wayne on his cup, muttering something about a “Lila”... or was it a “liar”? He hadn’t been able to tell (he did make a mental note to investigate it later, though). Instead, he’d come fuming back to the manor and thrown one of their less valuable mugs against a wall. Alfred hadn’t been happy or impressed but let him go soon after he had cleaned up his mess.
Then there was that one time when his family insisted on coming with him because of how much time he liked to spend in the cafe at Aroma Mocha at this point.
(“If you, who couldn’t stand actual coffee like a month and a half ago are now craving so much coffee that you go to that coffee shop like every day and even then end up stealing my coffee, I have to know what they serve you there,” Drake had decided and then called the rest of the family over, informing them of his plan. They agreed in a blink and went to dress up. He didn’t stand a chance for a second.)
As soon as they entered, Mari smiled at them with the smile she’d worn on her face when they first met, only letting Damian see behind that mask, only letting him know how she truly felt at the moment. He scowled. She was winning and she knew it.
And she knew that he knew it as well.
“Hello and welcome to Aroma Mocha! It’s nice to see new faces come with older every once in a while! Is this your family, Dames?” she asked with an overly sweet tone and tilted her head to the side, smiling all the while.
“Oohh, is she the reason you just keep coming here?”, Grayson asked while Todd was staring at him with eyes wide before voicing everyone’s thought of “ Dames?!” out loud in disbelief. The only one that looked more shocked about it than Todd was his father. It was understandable — no one else could call him by any nicknames, but somehow this small French girl was able to do that without losing the use of both or at least one of her wrists right then and there.
He was never going to hear the end of this.
“Shut up. I didn’t ask any of you to come.”
“What can I get you all?”
As they listed off their orders (Cass got a mocha by pointing at it on the menu, a triple espresso for Tim (at that point she had wondered out loud whether he was actually related to “Dames” or not as he couldn’t drink that much espresso even if he tried — and he had tried, alright — to which she’d been immediately told they were adopted siblings, Tim being the adopted one), Duke ordered a freddo, Jason wanted a ca phe sua da, Dick asked for a galao, his father requested to get a ristretto, Stephanie wanted an iced americano and ended up joking something about Captain America, an iced coffee with salted caramel for Barbara, and Alfred, well. Alfred told Mari he would like to have an Irish coffee after he took one look at the idiots that were the Wayne family), Damian stayed in the back, grumbling and arms crossed over his chest.  
“Alright, are you all going to pay for your respective drinks, do you pay in groups or will one of you pay for all of them?”, she asked, ready with the debit card device in her hand.
“But— Damian didn’t order yet?”
The woman looked at Damian and arched her eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. It needed to come from him, they both knew that, as she was still a barista and the worker here. Sighing, Damian resigned to his fate and told his family what it was about. “Marielle and I at some point ended up going with her just making something for me based on how I’ve liked the previous ones until I decide something was what I wanted more of. It probably happened after the sixth time I changed what I wanted.”
Damian smirked as Mari frowned and looked offended. What reassured him she still was definitely in the game (and unlikely to complain to his family at any point) was the snicker he could hear as she was writing one of the names to a cup. Likely his.
“Well, I guess that’s fine then. I’ll pay for all of them”, his father said and took out his card, ready to pay. Once he was done, she waved her colleague (this time it was an Asian young woman with black hair and a neutral expression on her face instead of the blue-haired guy — unfortunately, she too spoke French, which meant he had to endure even more of them now) to help her. Understandable, as they had ordered a lot. Neither seemed to either care about who they were or they didn’t even recognise them. He wasn’t sure which option was more amusing.
And surely, when they were calling them to get their drinks, Mari left his drink the last and made sure he was looking at her in the eye as she called his name. “A raf coffee with extra milk to Dennis!”
The receipt in Damian’s hands crumbled as he heard the name. No matter how horrible the other names had been, this one took the cake. He couldn’t believe she’d thought that Dennis of all the names would fit him in the least. It wasn’t even close to his own name. And, of course, as his luck would have it, none of the other names were misspelled, and they were all written with elegant calligraphy except for his, that was simply written well enough for him to know she had done it again. Totally on purpose.
(Damian wasn’t sure whether the first time they had met she had actually simply heard his name wrong or if she’d already decided back then that she would call him with any names she could come up with. Considering it had been quite the while since, he decided it was probably that she’d gotten better at spelling names unfamiliar to her.)
The flabbergasted expressions on his family’s faces were delightful to see though. They had been talking about how sweet the girl was and how nice it was of her to make their cups look so nice (all of them also had a small doodle on them, courtesy of his barista — wait, his? — as the other woman had given them to Mari for her to scribble something on them), only for them to hear her call Damian “Dennis”.
And he didn’t get mad at her, he didn’t yell at her, he didn’t even correct her. He only scowled and with a grunt, went to get his coffee (Mari winked at him. Goddamnit. Judging by his Grayson’s knowing smile, they had also seen that). The drink was amazing once again, though.
“What… what did you do to the girl if she calls you that?”, Barbara asked after a beat of silence.
Leave it to his family to take the side of a girl they’ve met for the first time over their family member of many years.
“I didn’t do anything to he—”, he insisted but got cut off by Brown who shook her head in disappointment.
“Damian, you’re like a little brother to me and all, but I can’t believe you’d offend a girl so horribly that she calls you by the wrong name on purpose. You didn’t even protest, so you must understand you did something to her as well.”
Damian groaned and swore he was never coming back here with his family again.
It continued on and on.
“How does a cafe affogato sound?”, she asked without lifting her eyes when he arrived one day. How she knew it was him without looking, he wasn’t sure, but that was fine. He was getting used to it.
“Sure, Marybell.”
“What ice cream?”
“Whatever you think fits the best.”
Somehow, their routine of Damian ordering a coffee Mari chose for him and then her writing down a wrong name once again had become comfortable even though he still tried to get her to write his real name on the cup at least once. He needed that victory since Mari had won so many times. Well, she won most of the time, if he was being honest. By that point he knew that he would still keep coming by even if he did win for once.
“A cafe affogato for Deneb!”
“Thanks, Marine.”
“Hey, you got close to my name for once.”
“Damn it.”
And then there was that one day when she’d called him “Dami”. Upon arriving home, he’d stormed in, bringing the attention of everyone in the manor in the vicinity to him.
“I can’t believe her!”
“What did Teacup do now?”
“She— Wait, Grayson, what do you mean Teacup?”
“I became friends with her a while back. She’s cool. Bakes way better than anyone her age should. Loves and values designing more than her own life. Anyway, continue your story.”
Damian spluttered (and he could swear that was the most mortifying moment in his life even after years to come) before composing himself. “She called me Dami today. Dami!”
“You— you sound way too scandalised about this. What’s the problem? It’s way closer to your name than, say, Dennis, and sounds like a nice nickname in general”, Drake said, chugging down his (umpteenth cup of) coffee as he walked past (only god knows how many he’d already had). “Also I agree with Dick, Cupcake’s great. She makes the best coffee — sorry Alfred,” he said, smiling sheepishly.
“That is quite alright, Master Tim. Her skills at making it are truly limitless.”
Drake beamed at him. Beamed.
“You’re only friends with her because she knows how to brew good coffee.”
“That is so not true, Duke!”
“Oh yeah, Pixie Pop’s definitely the best,” Todd declared from where he was sitting and reading yet another book.
“Are all of you friends with her?”
“Yep”, Brown told him, suddenly appearing from behind him and then promptly plopping down on the couch next to Todd. “We all decided to get to know her after that encounter in the shop. But do explain why her calling you Dami is so horrible? Like Tim said, it’s closer to your actual name than many of the others she’s called you, shouldn’t you be happy? Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to get her to do for ages now?”
“But that’s precisely the problem!”
Everyone and everything around him stopped, slowly turning to face him.
“What?”
“She never misses an opportunity to call me by some random name that is only remotely close to my own, yet she didn’t take it. There must be something wrong with her! Maybe she’s sick or someone must have truly offended her or she’s dying or—”
A beat.
“Are you fucking serious? You interrupted a perfectly good book because you were worried about Pixie Pop? God, Demon Spawn, I’m glad you’ve finally developed a crush on someone and as long as you don’t hurt her, go off and ask her out, but this is Jon’s job. He’s your best friend. You can fret about your crush to him.”
“A crush?”
“A crush, Damian. You like her. Romantically,” Dick explained on the behalf of Todd.
“No I don’t— Oh my god I like Mari why did none of you tell me?”
“We just did!”
Mari was back to calling him weird names the next day. Damian breathed out a sigh of relief. She was alright.
(And Jon had had a field day when Damian had called him because finally his best friend was crushing on someone and he couldn’t wait to try and help him come up with plans to woo said crush.)
One day he had stepped into Aroma Mocha barely awake and simply went straight to a table and nearly fallen asleep there. He had even forgotten to order a coffee. Three minutes later, someone walked up to him and placed a coffee in front of him along with a cupcake. Damian lifted his eyes to the stranger, ready to tell them to fuck off and go away, only for him to meet the eyes of Mari above him.
“I didn’t… order these?” It came out more as a question than a statement, much to Damian’s dismay. Oh well.
“I know, Dalimil, but you need to get something to stay here. Also you look like you got run over by a bus and like you haven’t slept in three weeks, worse than Tim usually does, which is precisely why here’s a salted caramel cupcake and a chai latte with added caffeine in it.” Her voice remained stern as she pushed the cup closer to him. “You’re welcome, by the way, Damir.”
“I’ll come pay soon—”
“No you won’t. It’s on me, because that’s what friends do. You can give me good tips some day to make up for it though if you want to.”
Friends…?
Oh.
That sounded nice.
Damian made sure he gave Mari three times the amount of money he had to pay for his coffee the next time he came by as tips. She had stared at him like she’d seen a ghost but to her credit, she never said anything about it or tried to refuse it.
After another few weeks, Damian finally gave up on getting his favourite (when had that happened anyway?) barista to spell his name correctly. If he only got her to spell some name correctly he gave her, that would be good enough. He’d once told her his name was Han Solo (in his defense, Dick had made the entire family watch all of the Star Wars movies in two days and that was the first name he could think of), and well, she had most definitely not disappointed and once again had twisted the name.
Mari had ended up writing ‘Handsome Squidward on his cup. Damian had barely managed to groan before he shaking his head fondly at her. He’d been far too tired to be able to react more strongly. Once again she had ended up putting extra caffeine shots in his coffee. Damian was no longer sure whether he was addicted to the caffeine or seeing Mari — or perhaps both. ‘Both’ was a likelier correct answer.
“Soo, what’s it today? You’ve gone through just about everything in our menu by now. Do you want to have something you’ve already tasted before or do you want me to still find a new thing I think you might like?”
“Maybe something you think I may like. Thank you, Mary.”
He noticed the fond smile on her face right away, though it took a few seconds to actually register. For once, he couldn’t see mischief in her eyes, nor did she look like she was planning on some grand scheme like she usually did. It was nice, he decided, seeing her like this.
“Name?”
(They both knew it was just for show at this point.)
Damian considered it for a second. He wanted her to spell the name — any name — he gave her correctly at least once, but it took him a moment to come up with one. While he enjoyed their routine of calling one another by weird, incorrect names, but he still needed that damned victory at least this one time. After that, he wouldn’t care.
“Batman.”
She couldn’t misspell that one unless she decided to mess with him even more and use a completely different name — after all, only a handful of people would dare to even accidentally disrespect Batman in Gotham, and she didn’t seem to be one to do so.
Mari rolled her eyes and told him to go wait for his drink. He did.
“A special coffee for Batman,” she called, trying to contain her laughter. Damian decided it was kind of adorable. At least she used the name he’d given her for once. Victory.
“Here you go, Mister ‘Yes I definitely am Batman himself, I even wear the correct ever present scowl on my face, there’s no way I’m not him’. I hope you enjoy it,” she said chuckling and handed him his drink. She was warm as their hands brushed against each other and Damian could have almost sworn that there was a spark between them at the touch.
“I am fairly sure I will, Miss ‘I can never make a bad coffee unless it’s black and I try to make you suffer as much as possible on purpose’. Thank you very much.”
Damian went to sit down and drank it, finding it was better than anything he’d tasted before. This was what he wanted to have more of. It was just sweet enough to make him want more, but not too sweet so he could easily have a dessert alongside it if he wanted to. It also tasted more like coffee than the mochaccino he had started with had tasted like. Bitter, but not enough to make him gag.
In short, he absolutely loved it.
Then he noticed scribbles on the cup from the corner of his eye. Damian turned it around in his hands and flushed red as he read the text written on it.
Damian W. <3
Call/text me *** ***-**** xoxo
— Marinette
To put it simply, he was irritated. Not only had she not written down the name he’d given her again, but she had also written his actual name which was something he’d been trying to make her do for months now. To make it more complicated, yes, he was irritated but also absolutely smitten with her.
And god if he wasn’t ecstatic to find out she liked him back.
So, seeing as Damian liked her a lot even if he was frustrated with her and it was her that took initiative, he took his phone out of his pocket and texted the number he gave her. It didn’t take long before his phone went off and he got a reply. A quick glance at her confirmed she was on her phone and smiling at it.
DW: Hello. (12.18 pm)
MDC: heya ! i’m glad you decided to message me ! (12.20 pm)
DW: Of course I did. You’re my friend and I also like you. (12.21 pm)
DW: Although I doubt you should be on your phone during work. (12.21 pm)
MDC: your fault for texting me during work (12.24 pm)
MDC: anyway (12.24)
DW: Your fault for giving me your number and not telling me when your shift ends. (12.25 pm)
MDC: ANYWAY (12.25 pm)
MDC: did you like the coffee I made you ? (12.26 pm)
DW: Yes, I did. What was that? I would like to have it again, although not right now, since I just finished it. (12.27 pm)
MDC: I made it specially for you. can’t find it on the menu. I’m glad to hear you liked it ! (12.36 pm)
DW: I am honored that you decided to do that. I truly appreciate it, Angel. (12.37 pm)
DW: Or should I call you Marinette? Or Mari? Please tell me I am not making you uncomfortable. (12.39 pm)
MDC: dw about it ! you can call me whatever you want as long as I get to call you mine ! (12.42 pm)
MDC: wai t what (12.42 pm)
MDC: hey anyway I had an actual reason to give you my number (12.43 pm)
MDC: date today at 6 ? we could meet up here once my shift’s done and over with (12.46 pm)
Damian looked over to the counter, only to find Marinette already looking at him — and, with a smile (that damned smile that was too adorable for her own good), she winked at him. She was going to be the death of him if she kept on being like this.
Smiling, he turned back to his phone and started typing.
DW: A date sounds great. I’ll see you at 6, then, Angel. (12.51 pm)
_____
Dandin -- dimwit, buffoon, idiot D'occasion -- second-hand, used Tu me dois 10 euros, j'ai gagné -- You owe me ten euros, I won D'accord -- Alright
_____
@ladysblackcat @daminett4life @tinyterror333 @annabellabrookes @7-sage-7 @theyellowfeverexperience @thethirdwheelfriend @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @kris-pines04 @daminette-december2019 @bluerosette23
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hoochieblues · 3 years
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100 Days of Writing: Day 7
Do you have a writing day? Or a writing hour? When do you get most of your writing done?
for @the-wip-project​  
I have two answers here. Sharing both in case one or more helps someone.
First off, this is a tough one for me. I’m chronically ill, juggling CFS, The Big Sad and The Big Anxious, and riding out the tail end of two successive periods of life completely falling apart, not to mention trying to be there for fambly and friends also collapsing under the weight of late stage capitalism and post-millennial burnout. In short: I don’t even have set meal times anymore, let alone a writing schedule, and I can tell you exactly what color the sky is over the laurel trees in my yard at 4:41am in any given season. 
I used to be intense. I used to be attached to my computer for hours at a stretch, chewing through outlines like a G and reliably punting out 2-5k daily. I wrote like 7 [deeply questionable] novels and ~40 short stories that way and got paid [a very small amount] for about half of them. [full disclosure: I am reliably informed this may have been inattentive type ADHD in action, but I don’t have a diagnosis so fuck if i know]
And then, at some point, I broke. I used to be the kind of person who sneered at writer’s block and said ‘you just have to push through it’ but then, boom, I was sicker than I’d ever been in my life and - for about 3-4 years - almost totally creatively bankrupt. No ideas, no sentences, nothing. I’d look at old stuff and it was like it was written by a different person bc I just didn’t see the world that way anymore. It was the second most horrible period of my life (so far~)
I’m getting better, though. I’m currently doing a writing challenge that involves coming up with short stories for specific prompts (my traditional kryptonite!) and I’ve made it to round 3 of 4 so far. I’ve outlined a lot of the WIPs that have been stuck for years as nebulous half-done things, and I’m revisiting the guilt-free joy of fanfic as a creative safe space that - I truly believe - is helping me fall in love with writing again.
So, there’s really two answers here, and it would be easy to answer this really shortly and say “I usually get my best work done between about 1am and 9am, when there are no other distractions or drains on my time, and I can curl up in bed with laptop, tea, foster dog(s) and farm kitty (Miss Goblinface; she lives with me bc the other colony cats are assholes) and listen to the rain and the chickens scratching around outside, and I feel really lucky that I’m able to have that” but that - while true - is charmingly aesthetic bullshit. 
The reality, imo, is that we mostly all do our best in whatever ways we can. Whether it’s getting the time to concentrate, or scratching out a great idea that comes when you least expect it. We all have creative tanks that need filling and get depleted, whether by the hard and visceral graft of writing itself, or by life wearing on us until we’re running on fumes. 
And that’s okay. What looks like good productive practice - lots of words, big output, deadlines hit - one month won’t be the same every month. Sometimes you’re going to be sitting back taking in ideas, inspiration and just breathing... even if you’re not aware that’s what you’re doing at the time. 
Sometimes, deadlines and pressures and expectations spur you on... and sometimes they chase the ideas right out of your head. Sometimes Thursday is dim sum and five thousand words of perfect cohesion, and sometimes it’s just the day before Friday. 
I guess what I’ve learned is not to judge or gauge myself by when/where/how I’m doing my best or most ‘productive’ work... just that I’m doing it at all, in whatever ways I can and at whatever means and speed work for me. 
And one day, maybe I’ll be kicking out high-gear output again. But if not, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I showed up, and did what I could. And I didn’t quit.
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justalarryblog · 3 years
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💮Thank You, Daddy by @recklessandbrave (10k) | Explicit
Harry’s hot, wet mouth is around him before Louis even has the chance to blink, and it feels so good, the icy sting of the frozen dessert disappearing as Harry’s soft tongue laps it up. After Harry swallows, he pulls off the head of Louis’ cock and then dips down to trail his tongue up the shaft, collecting the bits that dribbled down. “Yummy. Thank you, daddy.” He hums pleasantly.
Or the one where Louis gets an idea, and Harry wears panties
Part 2 of Pastel
💮Teacher Kinks by @Ecila (3k) | Explicit
AU in which Louis is Harry’s teacher, but he really doesn’t care. He fucks Harry and Harry enjoys it.
It’s graphic. Mainly just about their sex.
Part 6 of One-Shots
💮When I hear your cries, praying for life. (I will be there) by @brokenbeauty (5k) | Explicit
Well, I figured we needed Larry birthday sex, soooo….. ;))))
hop hop hop by orphan_account (3k) | Explicit
Suddenly, Harry’s slipping down his jeans, and Louis gasps as he’s met with a very unexpected but delicious sight. A mass of fur nestles between Harry’s cheeks, matching with the pink of the inner part of his bunny ears.
Or, the one in which Harry wears bunny ears and a bunny butt plug and Louis proceeds to fuck him.
💮St. Austin’s School for Boys by @domtommo, @winsomefreak (100k) | Explicit
St. Austin’s School for Boys is a correction school for young men that uses corporal punishment as their means of discipline. After one too many infractions, Harry Styles is sent there till graduation. Upon arriving Harry meets his dorm advisor who also happens to be the first year sex-education teacher and footie coach, Louis Tomlinson. Harry falls in absolute adoration for the teacher and is all too ready to drop down onto his knees for him. During his stay he learns some very interesting things about himself… Welcome to St. Austin’s School for Boys, where the hallways are filled with love, drama, and sex.
Part 1 of St. Austin’s School for Boys
💮Change My Mind by @larry_love13 (155k) | Teen And Up Audiences
Louis was a devout Christian family man with a wife and ten kids who lived a seemingly happy and idyllic life in Oklahoma. He always felt something was missing but he could never figure out what until he met Harry Styles, who made him question every single value he’d ever held dear, including his relationship to God AND his marriage. Harry, a devoutly religious young college student struggling with his own family and personal issues turned to Louis for guidance. They both end up learning a lot about themselves, each other, and their religion as they change a few minds-including their own-during their journey.
💮it’s kinda hot in here by @ballsdeepinjesus (3k) | Explicit
“Is that a moth on your stomach?”
or nerdy harry is hiding some stuff under his dorky clothes and louis fucks him in a locker room
💮jump in the deep end by @istajmaal (4k) | Explicit
Louis’s stomach lurches as he closes the last bit of distance, Harry’s nose settling between his arse cheeks and pushing them apart. Harry’s lips brush against the puckered skin around Louis’s hole in a kiss and Louis lets out a whine so high-pitched he barely recognizes it as coming from himself—what if I’m not clean enough, what if Harry hates it, what if Harry pushes me away—but then Harry’s long, wet tongue swoops in a circle around Louis’s rim and Louis feels like all the breath is knocked out of him. He grabs for Harry’s hand, still digging into his thigh, and squeezes over it, until Harry releases his vice grip on Louis’s thigh and laces his fingers through Louis’s.
or, Louis’s arse is a sensitive subject, so Harry approaches it gently. With his tongue.
💮I’ll Crash Until You Notice Me by @stylinsoncity (61k) | Mature
Louis sets off to Barbados to oversee the massive resort his family owns known as Sandy Hill. For years, he’s been looking for a change in the monotony of his life, seeking adventure and perhaps love too. What he doesn’t expect is the bright eyed boy who spills a milkshake on his shoes.
Cue the summer loving.
💮Bloodline by @banana_louis (177k) | Explicit
Louis doesn’t know how to feel when his best friend, Liam, finds out about a brother that he never knew, who was placed for adoption before he was born and is bursting into his life at twenty-four years old.
Louis is very wary of the man who might replace him. He has always thought of Liam as his own brother.
What if Liam doesn’t need him anymore? What if there’s no room for Louis? After all, blood runs thicker than water.
Louis doesn’t like Liam’s new brother and he doesn’t even know him. That’s irrelevant, though.
He doesn’t like him. He doesn’t trust him. He doesn’t want him hanging around. He doesn’t want anything to do with him.
That is, until he meets him.
💮The Arrangement by @daddyy_harryy, @HyFrLarry1224 (218k) | Mature
Louis knew it was his time. Once anyone turned 13, they were watched. And when they were 16 it could be any time. Anytime they could be taken. It was just weeks after his 16th birthday and there he was, sitting in the back of the van.
Or
Louis is forced to marry Harry and bear his children. He is to listen to Harry and do as he says, no matter what. Speaking is a given, and freedom doesn’t exist. Will the sixteen year old boy find himself falling in love with the Leader of the British Mafia? Or will he find himself stuck in a place he doesn’t want to be, with an abusive asshole for a husband?
💮Birds in Gilded Cages by @graveyardwitch (157k) | Mature
There is a hotel in London where beautiful young men and women are kept like birds in a gilded cage, prisoners bound to satisfy your deepest darkest desires….
After being kidnapped as a teenager, Harry Styles was forced into high-class prostitution by the evil Mr Cowell. Louis Tomlinson is heir to his father’s corporation, set to inherit millions…But engaged to a woman he doesn’t love and deeply unhappy. When they meet at a party sparks fly and they embark on a passionate and dangerous relationship…But can it ever be true love when one of you is being paid? And can Louis ever rescue Harry from The Bird Cage Hotel?
Warning-This story is about prostitution so there will be a LOT of sex. I do not own One Direction etc etc. I do ship Larry but I don’t care if it’s real or not, I just like reading and writing the fanfic.
💮TFP by @capriciouslouis (134k) | Not Rated
Harry has known for a while that he wants to have sex with Louis, and nothing says “tonight’s the night” like a nice cup of tea and copious amounts of flowers.
💮12 Hours by @1975sam (2k) | Explicit
If two people who hated/couldn’t stand each other got stuck together in an elevator for 12 hours, what would happen?
💮a cage for every ugly spirit by @sarcasticfluentry (15k) | Explicit
First-year uni student Harry gives up orgasms for Lent, featuring a cock cage and weekly prostate milkings on Sundays. Warning for religion kink. Written for the 1D Novena Ficathon.
💮A Million Years by @sunflowerstyles (3k) | Explicit
Louis always ends up feeling guilty that he’s not ready to give Harry what he wants. Harry shows him how much fun they can have while they wait together.
💮Can’t help but touch myself by @Tita (7k) | Explicit
“I asked what these were, love.” Harry gulps. “Panties,” he explains with heated cheeks, needing more than the light touches from Louis and getting nothing. “What did you get them for? Were they to impress someone else?” He asks, and Harry shakes his head fervently, stumbling over his words as he tries to get his tongue to cooperate. “No, no,” he emphasizes, arching his back to plaster himself to Louis. “For you, always for you, Daddy.”
💮Mark Me Up (My Skin’s Yours to Touch) by @eyesofshinigami​ (2k) | Explicit
They stumble into their bedroom and Louis’ is immediately pushed onto the bed, Harry scrambling after him. Shaky hands pull down his joggers right under his arse and Harry’s tongue circles around the still tender skin, never touching it directly. Despite the heat and desperation between them, Harry’s almost reverential in his touches. “‘s for me, Lou?” he slurs between passes of his tongue. “A place that only I can see?”
Or the one where Harry gets to appreciate Louis’ new tattoo.
💮Champagne by @fanshae (2k) | Explicit
“Look at how pretty you are,” Louis murmurs, Harry’s stockinged toes curling against the floor at the praise, “Give Daddy a twirl, baby.”
💮Give It Up To Me by @krisstylinson (8k) | Explicit
“You’re going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge,” he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke.
“And?” Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis’ arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. “What if I wanted you to?”
Or the cliché where Louis isn’t supposed to come but he does, and that can’t go unpunished in Harry’s eyes.
💮Gnossienne by @pukeandcry (11k) | Explicit
Louis sets a challenge for himself; it gets a bit out of hand.
💮Hold On To The Words You Spoke (Anchored Down In The Throat) by @justletmegohome (13k) | Explicit
“No, no. Louis, just stop. It’s not stupid, it’s never stupid. Believe it or not, I care. I care so much. Do you honestly think I’d still have my dick in your ass if I didn’t?”
Louis chuckles at that, but it’s sad, Harry notes it’s not right. “That will change when I tell you.”
“Never.��� Harry kisses every bit of his face he can reach, he has no idea how that can help but he’s going to do it anyways.
“I don’t like the way I sound. ’S all,” Louis says in one breath, going coy as soon as he’s done speaking, his eyes casting downwards.
For a moment, Harry can’t believe his ears. Or the words Louis just said even if he can see them hanging in the air between them. Harry is not even sure if he listened He doesn’t want to believe them, maybe that’s why he’s having a hard time coming up with his own words.
*** Basically, Louis is loud. And then he isn’t. Harry ties him up to find out why. ***
💮I’m Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by @Phillipa19 (6k) | Explicit
Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.
OR- Louis is Harry’s sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.
💮Just One Night by @LovelyAnon (7k) | Explicit
Louis is upset and goes to a bar to drown his worries. Harry shows up. Sex ensues. What more is there to say?
💮just one step at a time by @hickeylou, @sowearegay (10k) | Explicit
Louis is insecure and Harry has trouble sometimes.
💮leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit
If Louis told him to do something that he really didn’t want to do, it would be different, but Louis’s never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn’t handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.
💮let’s talk about making love by @istajmaal (25k) | Explicit
“That’s my name, baby, I’m Louis.” The voice on the phone inhales sharply, then says, “Gonna take my cock now, princess?”
Harry lets out a high-pitched mhmm and shudders as he pulls his fingers out of his hole, groping for the vibrator. “Nice to meet you,” he says, feeling a bit dizzy with how hard his untouched cock is.
Louis is just a simple phone sex line operator, but to Harry, he’s Daddy.
💮Push You Over The Edge (So I Can Pull You Back)by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit
It’s after a long two weeks of interviews and non-stop appearances that have got Harry stressed to the limit of yanking his hair out and throwing a fit and crying that Louis shows it to him, walks in the door with a sleek black bag in his left hand and inconspicuous brown one in his right.
💮Skipping Heartbeats by @1dfetusfics (3k) | Mature
Louis doesn’t talk much and for some reason he has a queasy feeling in his belly whenever he’s around boys now, especially around Harry.
💮Sweet Dreams by @dormant_bender (5k) | Explicit
When fantasies become reality.
💮Talk To Me, Baby by orphan_account (3k) | Explicit
Harry loves to talk and whisper little things to Louis during sex. Louis is pretty quiet, loves it, but just listens. But one day Harry really wants to hear Louis say some of the dirty things he loves Harry to do to him, so Harry really encourages Louis to talk to him during sex. Louis is self-conscious at first but then they really get into it and amazingness happens.
💮Thank the Hotel by orphan_account (4k) | Explicit
The hotel messed up the boys’ reservations for after their Red Nose Day performance, causing Louis and Harry to share a single bed hotel room. When Harry wakes up to Louis having a wet dream, he just can’t help himself. He’d have to remember to thank the hotel later.
💮To Be Loved To Be In Love by @Angel_Dust (129k) | Mature
At 18, every Sub must take a Match Test to find their Dom.
Poor, Farm kid Louis Tomlinson is matched with Rich, Businessman Harry Styles.
Or, where Harry thinks giving Money, expensive presents and luxuries proves how much you love someone, but Louis is about to turn his world upside down.
💮turn you on, make you radiate by @ballsdeepinjesus (15k)| Explicit
When he presses inside for the first time in weeks, he’s pretty sure he sees stars behind his eyes at the staggering sensation of Harry’s body squeezing every inch of him. When he bottoms out, he stays buried inside for a minute just to catch his bearings, listening as Harry takes sharp breaths beneath him. When he finally feels like he’s under control, he presses his lips against Harry’s ear and whispers, “Are you ready husband?“
Harry throws his head back and groans. “Call me your spouse.”
[…or, a self-indulgent snapshot of hl’s sex lives over the course of 10+ years]
💮Untitled sugardaddy fic by orphan_account (2k) | Explicit
Harry comes home from a long day at work and has his way with his baby. (That’s Louis.)
Or
The one with all the daddy kink sex and spanking. It’s pure pwp.
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