#i hope it wasn't a bad kind of busy day at least

[bippot]

Cowboy & Piggy

Story Summary -> No, Adrian had not been crushing on his colleague. That's just, like, not true in the slightest. It's not as if the moment she became available, he said something he could never take back.

Tags -> Idiots in Love, Violence, Fluff, Fights, Butt Dialing, Break Up, References to Supernatural (TV 2005), Identity Reveal, Co-workers, Self Confidence Issues, Punching, Smut

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Fennel Fields wasn't a good restaurant. It didn't have the funding franchise restaurants do, nor did it have the homegrown passion of a family-owned business. It just existed to make money for the boss, who wasn't even there most of the time. The food was cheap and unhealthy and often covered in cheese, so whoever was eating it was far more focused on that cheesy goodness than the fact that the meatballs tasted a fair bit like horse.

All of the employees were underpaid and underappreciated by their bosses, so why the hell did Adrian Chase work there? As of late, he'd been earning a steady income thanks to Task Force X so it wasn't a financial decision. It wasn't to conceal his identity either - if anything, he'd almost revealed his secret at Fennel Fields too many times to count. Why, oh why, did he work a menial job with an awful wage when it mainly consisted of being ordered around and shouted at by customers and managers alike?

Well, he wouldn't get to see Y/N if he left.

The best part of his day was when she rushed through the double glass doors and, as soon as she looked up to find him standing at the counter, she'd do a little half smile and greet, "Hi Ade, how late am I today?" He'd check his watch and tell her the exact time, often adding a little comment like 'it's your new record', or 'not as late as yesterday', or 'you missed the bus, didn't you?' Adrian was down bad. He memorised her shifts whenever the rota was posted and swapped so she wouldn't have to go too long without his presence. It was stupid and a little stalkerish, but it kept him going.

Half - if not more than that - of all of his shifts were spent watching her with big puppy dog eyes, just admiring from across the room as she worked. It was pathetic, he knew that. And even if he didn't know that, their other coworkers were more than willing to point it out to him.

"Drooling over Y/N again?" Taylor jeered as he slapped Adrian on the back of the head to snap him out of the trance he'd been in ever since she started bending over a table to clean it. Hey, she had a great ass! Was he supposed to not look? It's human nature to look.

"Ah, no. No, no, no, of course not. I wouldn't... I don't..." He spluttered helplessly, flustering himself into an even deeper blush at the implications. "We are just friends. Pals. Buddies. Y'know, all platonic and shit."

Taylor rolled his eyes. "Sure." He said sarcastically, unaware that Y/N had walked up to them at the moment he teased, "You're a lost cause, man. I'd give up. She'll never like you. You're, uh... you."

"That's not very nice." Y/N gave Taylor a stare that told him exactly what she thought about his comment and turned to Adrian, placing her palm gently on his forearm as she assured him, "Any girl would be lucky to have you, cowboy."

He smiled shyly and nodded, feeling incredibly grateful for her words because they'd given him some kind of hope that the thought of them, yeah, maybe it wasn't so outlandish. She thought he was dateable. Maybe not dateable for her, but at least she saw enough qualities within him that she believed he had the ability to be dateable to someone. And if he was cool enough in her eyes to get a nickname like 'cowboy', there must be someone else who thought the same and was available.

Though, the term had come from their first shift together when Adrian got so nervous meeting her and his mouth decided to talk about the movie 'Cowboys and Aliens' the entire time. By the end of the day, she may not have known his name, but she did know that Robert Downey Jr was originally set to be the lead but there were scheduling difficulties because he was filming on the 2nd Guy Richie Sherlock Holmes movie and had to be replaced by Daniel Craig.

The next time they worked together, Y/N tried to get Adrian's attention but couldn't since he'd never told her his name. So, she called out, "Cowboy guy!" and, surprisingly, Adrian turned around. He pointed to himself as if to say, 'Me?' and came running as soon as she nodded.

"You didn't tell me your name." She tilted his name tag so she could read it. "Adrian."

"That's me."

"That's you, cowboy."

That, as they say, is history. Not only did a hot girl give him a nickname, but she continued to seek him out whenever the job got boring and she wanted someone to talk to. Or someone to ramble on and on about useless stuff at her. Adrian was that guy™️.

"Come on, Y/N. Don't give him false hope." Taylor remarked with a sly smile. "The girl he's drooling over is way, way out of his league."

Whatever Y/N had planned to do was cut short. She stopped in place.

"I didn't know you liked anyone." Her head tilted as she surveyed Adrian's entire flushing face. "I thought you told me everything?"

That was mostly true. Adrian did have a habit of spilling his guts to Y/N. So far, there had only been two things that he managed to keep under wraps - his secret identity and his secret crush - yet every other thought he had, she had been told about it.

"I, uh, I.. I gotta keep some cards to close my chest." Adrian mumbled out, glancing away before continuing, "But, uh, it's okay, y'know. She doesn't like me like that."

Scoffing, Taylor confirmed, "No, she certainly doesn't." Y/N slapped his arm for being so rude, so he was quick to justify himself by adding, "She's got a boyfriend, doesn't she, 'cowboy'?" and left the kitchen as quickly as he could.

As much as it killed him to say, yes, Y/N had a boyfriend. He was cool and handsome and a total dickhead. That wasn't Adrian's jealousy talking; Steve was just like all the jocks that had beat up Adrian in high school - all macho and womanising - and if he had to try to quantify how many times Steven had cheated on Y/N, Adrian wouldn't even begin to know what two-digit number to guess.

Y/N sighed, "Oh, I'm sorry, that sucks. There's plenty more fish."

"Yeah... Maybe. I don't know." Adrian shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant about it as he possibly could - he probably wasn't very convincing given that she was still looking at him with so much sympathy on her face - and he didn't feel like elaborating further. "How's Steve? Is he coming in today?"

The quick change of topic was noted by Y/N, yet she simply replied, "Nope!"

"Oh?"

"Told him not to. If you do see him though, tell me so I can hide."

"Why'd you wanna hide from your boyfriend?" He wondered out loud curiously, tilting his head as he examined her. Then, his eyes went wide as he realised what he'd said. "Shit, don't answer that. Unless you want to. It's up to you. Obviously. You can tell me if you want to. Not that you should. You can. I want to know. Not in, like, a creepy way, but in a 'I'm your friend and I'm here for you' way..."

He proceeded to spiral into a nervous ramble that overexplained everything and had at least 4 completely irrelevant tangents, none of which made any sense whatsoever, while Y/N stared at him in amusement. His words were coming out at a mile a minute, and they just kept coming, and she had learnt that it was best if she just waited for his breath to run out.

His rants always went in a weird direction. And unlike other people, Y/N liked his weirdness. It was her favourite thing about him. Well, that and his dimples. Or how easy it was for him to make her laugh. Or that mole on his cheekbone. Or the way he'd push up his glasses with his middle finger and forget that he was technically flipping her off, only to realise and purposefully flip her off playfully.

Or his biceps, which she hadn't seen often as he usually kept to baggier, unflattering clothes, but she had seen them once when a customer spilt their drink on her and she hadn't brought a spare top. Adrian had offered his cardigan to her, and she finally got a small glimpse of what he looked like underneath it. It's safe to say she was impressed.

Adrian was cute when he was rambling - he was always cute, but especially so when his brain had no control over his mouth - so all Y/N could do was to beam at him and softly laugh every time he'd start to babble nonsense. After a few minutes, his breathing finally calmed down; he blinked twice, cleared his throat, took a few deep breaths, then looked up at her.

Thanks to his rant and how wildly he gestured, his glasses were slightly crooked on his nose. Y/N fingers hovered by his ears as she scrutinised his glasses and tilted them back into place and gently brushed her fingertips through the hair just above his ear so it wasn't so unruly. Adrian swallowed. It was an audible gulp that caught Y/N's attention, and she met his eye.

He seemed somewhat uncomfortable, so Y/N was blurting out, "Sorry, cowboy. I should've asked before I did that. Consent and all, y'know?" to apologise and smooth things over.

"You can touch me whenever you want to."

Shit. That was a little too obvious. 'You can touch me whenever you want to'? That's what his mouth came up with? In his head, it sounded innocent enough, but as soon as it left his lips, he scrunched his eyes up in embarrassment. That is not something you say to a girl with a boyfriend.

A blush came to Y/N's cheeks. She knew he was awkward and often said things without thinking before they came out. He hadn't intended that sentence to sound the way it did, she was aware, but there was a hint of hope that maybe, just maybe, he did mean it exactly as he said it.

"I'll, I'll be sure to remember that next time I invade your personal space," she joked with a sheepish smile.

All of a sudden, doing the washing up became very appealing to Adrian. He needed to be doing something; he needed to have something to split his focus in order to remain in one piece. Any more slip-ups with Y/N and he would become a mess. He made a big deal of turning the tap on and squidging far too much washing-up liquid into the sink.

The sound of the rusty pipes and gushing water almost overwhelmed Y/N's voice as she uttered, "Steve and I, we, uh, broke up."

Adrian immediately switched off the tap. It took him a second to register what Y/N had said. "What?"

"We broke up. I called it quits with him."

Boom. A bomb had been dropped. This was huge news. The biggest news ever. They had broken up. Like, officially. It wasn't everyday that something so great happened in Adrian's life, so he was ecstatic.

"Thank God!" he cheered, completely forgetting to put up any facade or pretend that he wasn't over the fucking moon.

Steve and Adrian hadn't been the best of friends, but in the limited interactions they had had, Adrian had been polite to her ex-boyfriend. Y/N raised an eyebrow at her friend's display of excitement.

"I thought you two got along?"

"He was an asshole, Y/N! Seriously!" His grin was almost manic, and his hands shook as he clapped them together a few times. "You're so much better off without him."

"Hell yeah, I am!"

His happy mood was infecting Y/N. Before, she'd been going back and forth on whether breaking up with Steve had been the right thing to do or not, but now, thanks to Adrian's support, she knew it was 100% the right choice. Yeah, they'd been together for a year or so, and giving that up instead of working on it could be considered a waste, but...

"He didn't deserve me. That cheating asshole didn't deserve a single minute, no, second of my time!"

At that, Adrian remembered one time when he caught her boyfriend ogling their coworker Jennifer, who had a very prominent chest. She was a provocative person. All her clothes were a little bit small and slutty - not that being a slutty was a bad thing since Adrian was a big advocate of women being sexually liberated and having the ability to fuck whoever they wanted to. Jennifer wasn't the problem, far from it.

The way Steve caught eye contact with him and gave him a look that screamed 'I'd hit that ass' turned Adrian's blood into pure fire. In his mind, Adrian couldn't fathom ever wanting to leer at other women when Y/N - his literal dream girl - was right beside him. Steve had a smoking hot 10/10 on his arm and still wanted to play the field.

Fuck that guy!

Still, it sucks to be cheated on. Despite the brave face Y/N was putting on, it still sucked to have your trust betrayed over and over and, as far as she knew, at least another 17 times again.

"I'm really sorry, dude," Adrian said, and meant it. He wanted to comfort her in some way but didn't know how without looking weird, so he just half-heartedly pinched at her arm, trying his best at reassuring. Y/N let out a tiny chuckle. It wasn't as bright as usual, but it was more than sufficient to reassure Adrian.

"Hey, it's all good. My plan now is to stay single until Mr. Right comes knocking at the door."

"Yeah? That's a good plan," Adrian nodded eagerly. "He's around; I'm sure of it."

"I hope he is. I haven't had an orgasm in the past - Jesus, how long? - year, I would love one right about now," Y/N laughed. Then, her brain caught up with what she'd said. "Not that you needed to know that. That was TMI, wasn't it?"

Was it? Was it really too much information? Maybe it was a little private, sure, but it was information that Adrian wanted to know. Well, he didn't want her unsatisfied and unhappy, but he now knew that he was capable of something that Steve hadn't thought about doing in an entire calendar year.

"I could fuck you better than he ever could."

There was a level of confidence in Adrian's voice that Y/N had never heard before. Her mind briefly blanked out due to the shock of hearing such words come out of Adrian's lips, and thanks to her dazed state, he got the wrong idea. His shoulders slumped, and his ears became bright ruby red.

"What?" she mumbled.

"What?" He parroted back, his voice raising into a panicked squeak. Maybe she hadn't heard him. At this moment in time, he wished she hadn't heard him. "I didn't say anything. Did you hear something? Could've been Jennifer. I think I heard her saying something like that the other day."

Y/N's imagination was going wild, and every single image that popped up was appealing to her. It would be a lie if she tried to say that she hadn't thought about it before, that she hadn't thought about him before. He was so nice and cute and had big biceps, and was one of the only reasons she stayed at her shitty paying job.

"I heard you, cowboy." His eyes shot to meet hers. "You finish at 6 today, right?" He nodded. "Are you doing anything after that?"

No fucking way! Jackpot! He grinned to himself and looked at his hands in the soapy water. He simply couldn't help it.

"I have a few errands to do."

She attempted to not sound as disappointed as she felt. "...Oh, maybe another day then."

"No! No, I mean, I'm totally free after 7. Once I do my shit, I'm, like, totally not doing anything, so if you wanted to - only if you want to. Seriously, no pressure or anything - we could watch a movie, or I have a bunch of video games we could play, or, I don't know... do something together and hang out and stuff? Anything you want, really. If you'd like?"

He cringed at how desperate he sounded when he finished his sentence. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his chances. Yet Y/N wasn't dissuaded by his words at all. If anything, she was more than tempted.

"I'd really like that, Ade."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"...Okay. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Very cool, very nice. I'll text you my address."

Time flew by as Adrian couldn't wait to finish work. They continued chatting as they worked, but both knew they were subconsciously focused on what would happen later that night. It was like some kind of gravitational pull that was making it difficult to keep them away from each other for more than a few minutes, and it was driving both of them crazy.

6pm hit, and Adrian was speeding to his 'errand'. He pulled up a few streets away, yanked on his Vigilante suit, and was stalking his way towards a suburban house. Steven had posted an image of him next to his car (that wasn't even particularly fancy, so why he showed it off like it was, Adrian didn't know) whilst outside this very house.

Be careful what you post, folks, or somebody might use your images to find where you live so they can beat you up.

Technically, cheating isn't illegal. But it is a sin - not that Adrian was religious in the slightest - and Adrian thought Y/N should have the world, and this guy, this Steven, couldn't even provide her with basic human decency? Vigilante would be willing to expand his usual set of rules tonight. Steven deserved it.

Vigilante whistled to himself as he knocked and waited for Steven to appear. Once the asshole did open the door, Vigilante swung and hit him straight in the nose. "What the fuck, man?" The bastard grabbed his nose to stop the bleeding and stared angrily up at Vigilante. "Vigilante does house calls now?"

"This ain't a house call. This is a message." Adrian paused for dramatic effect. "You're a cheating scumbag! I should chop your shrivelled dick off for being such an ungrateful cunt."

"Who sent you? Was it Tina?"

"Not Tina."

"Abby, then?"

"No."

"Liz?"

"Liz, no."

"Penny?"

"Dude, are you for real?"

"Emily A?"

"Jesus christ."

"Emily L?"

"OMG, you're the whoriest whore to ever whore!

Steven stood there, mouth opening and closing a few times before his pea brain managed to say, "No, you," and despite how lacklustre of a comeback that is, Steven seemed proud of himself.

It was quiet.

Then, because both of these men will ultimately try to solve everything with their fists, the boys lunged at each other. Steven had never been smart - he knew Vigilante was adept at hand to hand and had killed people before and still tried to fight the guy - so as he saw an opening, he drove his fist into Vigilante's stomach. He was a beefy dude, so Adrian was aware that there was going to bruise there for a few days, but Vigilante had been in hundreds of fights. One blow to the stomach was not going to slow him down for long.

If anything, it urged Vigilante to be more vicious. With two quick punches - one to the groyne and another to the neck directly on his Adam's apple - Steven was crumpled on the ground in severe pain and having a hard time breathing.

"You hurt Y/N, you jackass!" Vigilante yelled, giving his reasoning away. Shit. He hadn't meant to divulge that. He'd been so caught up in the moment that it slipped right out. And so, before anything else gave away snippets of his identity, Vigilante left the scene and rushed as fast as he possibly could back to his apartment building.

It was 6.56 when he finally got home. He had 4 minutes - well, probably around 9 because of her tendency to be late - and he spent most of that time throwing his suit off. Did he smell like he had just beaten somebody up? He didn't really have time for a shower but could give himself a quick wipedown, a whore’s bath.

The punch patch on his stomach was something he couldn't do anything about. He could hide it with his shirt for the time being. If things went well and there was some under the clothes type action, she'd definitely see it. Would she care? Would she stay long enough to notice? The night would have to go either really good or really bad if it ended with him with his shirt off. In the best-case scenario, they would make sweet, hot, passionate love, and she'd become totally beguiled by his moves. Worst-case scenario: a fire. Or a battle. Or a war. Or maybe she didn't like him that way, which would be crushing, but he'd still pine from afar.

So, with the hope that he would be shirtless at some point tonight, Adrian began brainstorming excuses he could use. He'd never been a great liar, but he had to try. Got headbutted by a baby goat? Nope, he doesn't look like the sort of guy who'd do well on a farm. Walked into a bookcase? Fuck, that made him look clumsy as shit (which he was), and clumsy is not sexy.

What if he told her the truth? Would she believe him?

Three gentle knocks cut his workshopping short. Y/N was here. He took a deep breath, sprayed some cologne, and opened his front door.

"Hi."

"Hi," he said back, a crooked smile plastered onto his face. His heart was beating faster than a hummingbird. "C-come, come in."

She walked through the doorway, and her eyes were immediately scanning his place as she slipped her shoes off. His apartment was mostly bare, apart from the geeky accoutrements littered here and there. There was a poster of Hellboy on the wall, his bookcase was filled with Dungeons and Dragons books - both guidebooks and the accompanying novelisations - he had multiple Critical Role figurines, and an old-looking gun on a stand.

"Is that the colt from Supernatural?" Y/N asked, walking towards the revolver.

"Yup. Yeah, it is," he leaned against his desk and rested his elbow over the surface. "It's one of the ones they used in the show. I got it at an auction on eBay. Pretty awesome, huh?"

"So awesome!" She knelt down a bit to read the inscription on the gun stand, and her eyes lit up a little when he casually lifted the gun up and handed it to her. Her fingers closed around it and gently touched the smooth, cold metal. "Do you like guns? Like regular ones?"

"Uh, yeah, I think they're pretty cool."

That was an understatement.

"Do you like gunslingers? Like, Dean? Or Percy de Rolo? Or Rambo, even?"

"I love Rambo!"

Something in Y/N's demeanour changed. "What about Vigilante? Do you think he's cool?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager for the answer.

Adrian looked back at her. He felt nervous about all this before she asked that, and now it had only increased. Y/N kept her eyes locked on Adrian, watching for any slight change in his face or body language as she twirled the gun between her hands. "Vigilante? He's cool," Adrian replied carefully. He tried to sound nonchalant and casual like nothing happened, but his voice cracked slightly upon saying his last word, and he cursed himself out mentally. "Do you think Vigilante is cool?"

Y/N looked down at the gun. "Steven called me before I got here - I don't know why I picked up but I did - and he was screaming down the phone at me. He kept saying that I was such an asshole for telling Vigilante to beat him up, but I've never met Vigilante," she explained slowly, her brows furrowed a little as she frowned. "Steven was certain Vigilante said, 'You hurt Y/N, you jackass!'"

The walls felt as if they were closing in.

"Weird," Adrian commented dryly.

"Yeah, it is weird." Y/N put the colt back down on its stand. "I only told you about my breakup."

A pin drop could be heard. It was so silent for far too long. The silence was so thick that Adrian wondered whether or not time had stood still and they were frozen in the moment.

"Either you told a stranger my personal information -"

"No, no, I would never do that."

"So, if I only told you and you didn't tell anyone else..." Y/N trailed off as she got closer and closer to Adrian until he could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheeks. Her eyes flickered down to the hem of his shirt, and her fingers soon followed.

Fuck. He couldn't breathe. He didn't want to breathe. His brain was going wild. His lungs couldn't keep up with its demands to keep inhaling air because every breath was so shallow. Every gasp was so sharp and desperate. Every intake was so painful. Everything was hurting.

All Adrian wanted to do at that moment was run. Run. Just fucking run.

He broke from her grasp and crossed the room. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. What was there to say? 'I put on hockey pads and beat up criminals when everyone else is sleeping'? That made him sound kinda insane.

"Adrian, I'm not going to tell anyone." She said softly, her tone completely devoid of judgement as she reached out so he'd come closer. "C'mere, please?"

Historically, he'd never been able to deny her, and his streak wasn't going to end today. Though he was reluctant and slow to move, he let her take hold of his hand and was tugged closer and closer until the very tips of their socked toes were mere millimetres apart.

"You're doing good. Real good. Not that save the turtles corporate bullshit. There's a lot of bad people who slip through the cracks. And, yeah, maybe I'm not fully on board with all the murder and violence thingy going on, but..." Y/N's hand came up to cradle his cheek and gently stroked it. "You help me sleep at night; did you know that? You're a good man and a great friend, so please don't pretend that you're some monster."

And with those final words, her soft lips found his, and everything seemed to explode in sparks. It was like everything he'd ever imagined and more. He pulled her in by the waist as he deepened the kiss, his thumb drawing circles on her hip bone. Everything became a blur of sensation: her body, her hair, the scent of her perfume, and the faint taste of cherry chapstick on her lips.

Before he knew what was happening, he'd lifted her in his arms, and her legs were wrapped around his waist as he pressed her back against the nearest wall.

"I should've dumped him months ago," she muttered against his lips. Her breathing was ragged, and he could feel her heart beating fast against his chest.

That sentiment was something said in his mind for the entirety of Y/N and Steve's relationship. They weren't a good fit. Literally everyone could see that. So, Adrian had to ask, "Why didn't you?" as he dragged his lips down her neck while his hand slid underneath her sweater and started roaming over the warm skin of her lower back.

"Because..." Y/N breathed his name. "... I don't know. I genuinely don't know. He was obnoxious and lazy and I always imagined it was you whenever we got intimate -"

She stopped midsentence when Adrian groaned at her words. "Oh my God, that's so fucking hot," Adrian moaned, finding her pulse point and sucking directly on the skin there. She was like putty in his hands, completely unable to pull away even if she wanted to. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she tilted her head back, giving him easier access to her neck.

"You wanna fuck me, yeah?" he felt the need to confirm.

Just because she was grinding herself onto him, her hips rolling against Adrian's crotch, didn't necessarily mean she wanted to go all the way.

"Yeah, I wanna fuck you."

"Hell yeah, fuckin' sick."

If those hours in the gym were used to lift Y/N to his bedroom, then it was time well spent. They were a mess of tangled limbs and kisses, hands wandering freely as Adrian walked them to his room. The bed creaked as Y/N was set down upon it, her head falling backward onto his pillow with a soft poof. Adrian climbed above her with a knee on either side of her hips.

"Hi," he beamed.

"Hi baby."

His face softened at the nickname, and his lips formed into the widest smile his face was capable of, making him look as stupidly happy as he felt. With Y/N beneath him, everything just seemed perfect. Nothing was wrong with the world, and the universe had agreed to give him the most almighty of wins.

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, his tongue sweeping across her bottom lip and begging entrance without a second thought. Y/N eagerly opened her mouth for him, granting him permission as her legs widened to allow him to slot himself between them.

"Can you take this off? I wanna feel you," she urged, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. He complied, shrugging it off casually and throwing it somewhere, and was immediately bombarded with the feeling of Y/N's palm drifting down his abs. "Jesus christ! You're shredded, dude!"

Adrian got a smug little look on his face as he watched her explore every inch of his body. But the way his eyes widened made her realise that he wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to people being nice to him and wanting to be around him. She could change that. She would change that.

"You're so hot." She ran her finger down his stomach and then along his navel, pausing momentarily to brush her fingers through his happy trail, before her hand continued its path even further down. "Do you want me to-"

"Fuck, do whatever you want to me."

Y/N could feel herself falling in love with him even more each minute. And she knew it would only get worse when undid his trousers to palm the bulge in his boxers, and he let out the most pitiful whine she'd ever heard. She laughed a little at the sound of it, kissing his bare shoulder briefly as her hand slid underneath his underwear and wrapped around him.

"Shit," he hissed, bucking up against her touch. He sounded desperate, and when she looked into his eyes, his pupils were dilated in arousal. His cheeks were splotches of red, his bottom lip hooked on his teeth, brows scrunched together, his chest moving dramatically and his gaze focused on the ceiling as he tried desperately to control himself as she jerked him off.

"Baby," she spoke lowly. "Look at me."

Slowly but surely, he tilted his head to focus on her, his green eyes meeting hers for a split second. She smiled and brought her free hand up to cup his cheek. "Your eyes are so pretty, cowboy," Y/N cooed. "It's almost impossible for a girl to look away."

"I watch you all day," he began, his face scrunching up when he realised how stalkerish his rant had started. "I mean, whenever we're in the same room, I can't help it. Part of me wants to make sure that you're safe, happy, and comfortable, and the other part just can't resist. I'm a moth, and you're the flame, y'know? You're bright and beautiful - you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen - and I can't help myself."

Her hand stopped. His chest heaving for a completely different reason now.

"Do you mean that?" Y/N asked in disbelief.

The only answer Adrian could give was an exhale and a "Yeah."

That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. And since it was so nice and she'd been in a relationship with a prick for so long, Y/N didn't know how to respond.

"Fuck, uh, forget I said that. I understand if -"

"Why would I want to forget?" she asked, surprising even herself with the firmness in her voice.

Adrian gave her one of those tight-lipped smiles that he usually gave whenever people made fun of him at work, and he just had to stand there and take it. "You know, you're you," he eventually explained, sitting up and gesturing excitedly, his hands brushing up and down her body. Then, his voice quietened when he added, "And I'm just me."

"Adrian, 'just you' is my favourite thing in the world."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. The gears in his mind were whirring furiously until his brain finally caught on to Y/N's words. In an instant, he was surging forward, kissing her hard and possessively with a vigour that left Y/N breathless. The smooch was long and hot and wonderful, and she wound her arms around his neck, holding him close as they continued to deepen their kiss.

When the need for air overwhelmed her and she had to break apart from him, they simply rested their foreheads together and giggled, both of their chests rising and falling rapidly as they struggled to catch their breaths. Adrian's thumb stroked her cheek, and Y/N couldn't help but notice that he was watching her with such affection it made her heart flutter.

That's why she had no qualms urging, "Let's get naked." Adrian grinned wickedly at her suggestion, leaning down to place another searing kiss on her lips as his fingers fumbled with the zip of her trousers.

They were both down to their underwear in five seconds and completely naked a few seconds after that. After the initial shock of 'holy shit, the hottest person I've ever seen is naked in front of me', Adrian got to work and pressed his mouth along Y/N's thighs, kissing his way up towards her centre.

But before the real pleasure could start, Y/N felt the need to warn, "It's just, uh, could just take it easy on me, cowboy?"

"Been a while?"

"You have no idea."

So, he started off slow. Very slow. He kissed the inside of her thigh softly and brushed his nose against the sensitive skin there. He traced light circles on her waist as he went further and further inwards until the very tip of his tongue made contact with her clit. She jolted at the sensation and bit down on her bottom lip, his name falling from her lips as she did so. Adrian kept going, and soon his tongue was swirling around the tip of her clit. It drove her wild, made her moan, and made her lose herself completely in his touches and tastes.

Previous partners had told him he was particularly good at this part and he was going to use that to his advantage. What if he ate her out so good that she never left and fell in love with him and became his girlfriend? Wouldn't that just be great?

Locking her into place with an arm locked around her stomach, he took her clit into his mouth and sucked so she was grabbing at his hair again, a string of whimpers coming from deep within her throat with every stroke of his tongue. "Oh my God, oh, Jesus fucking Christ," she swore as Adrian slipped two fingers inside of her and curled them as he sucked.

Her whole body tingled, a pleasurable ache taking over her stomach like someone was pulling a rubber band until it snapped. Y/N's eyes crossed, and she arched her back and cried out Adrian's name, her whole body shaking uncontrollably beneath his mouth. Steve had never been this attentive. He had never paid attention to her needs. Even when they'd been intimate, he'd been focused on his own pleasure. This was new. This was brilliant.

And there was no going back.

"You good?" He chuckled huskily, lifting up his head and looking at her with those captivating green eyes. Y/N nodded, unable to speak for fear of her voice cracking and giving away that she wanted him so badly, she felt like she might combust. "That was literally the hottest thing I've ever seen. Steven was, like, a complete dumbass because I'm gonna do that as often as I can.... Is that cool? You down for that? It's totally okay if not -"

"You can do that whenever you want."

"Cool."

"I can't believe I've been so stupid." Y/N huffed out a laugh and straddled his thighs. "You can fuck me better than Steve ever could. We could've been doing this months ago, and I wouldn't have wasted my time on him."

"Wish we could rub it in that asshole's face."

A light bulb appeared above Y/N's head. She momentarily got off his lap to search through all her clothes pockets, and once she found what she wanted, she returned to her previous position.

"Why don't we?"

"What?"

"A buttdial will make him furious." She waved her phone around, but she insisted, "If you don't wanna be on the call, it'll just be me. Or if it makes you uncomfortable all together, we can forg -'

No hesitation. "Put it on speakerphone."

"Yeah?"

"That's hot as shit, yeah."

Giddy with excitement, Y/N gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, gently placed Adrian's glasses on his bedside table, and found Steve's contact before putting the call on speaker. The prick didn't pick up, but they could still leave a voicemail.

"Oh God!" She moaned as she lowered herself onto Adrian's cock, her fingers gripping his shoulders when he was fully buried inside her, her body feeling deliciously stretched.

"Feel good, pretty girl?"

"So full." She breathed. "Never been so full."

In response, he gripped her hips and pulled her down onto him harder and deeper, making her whimper into his mouth. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he ground himself against her slowly, causing her to cry out and hold tighter. "That's right, baby," Adrian crooned in her ear, his voice low and seductive. "You sound so sexy like that... so sweet. So fucking beautiful."

Y/N bit her lip and closed her eyes, letting the vibrations of his voice send her higher on cloud nine. All thoughts of being mad about Steve completely vanished. Steve was nothing. Adrian was everything.

Sweat soon started trickling down their bodies, dripping between them as she reached for him to help him finish, and the sounds they exchanged sounded almost animalistic, needy, and dirty. And Y/N couldn't help herself. Her tongue drew a line up his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin and making him go feral.

He manoeuvred her back against the mattress, her phone squished between the duvet and her back, and held her wrist above her head as his hips thrust. His face was contorted as he rode her relentlessly, the muscles in his abdomen tensing as he fought to contain himself and not cum before she did.

"Think if I rub this pretty clit, you'll cum so fuckin' hard?"

"Please, Adrian. Please, please, please -" She chanted like a prayer while she writhed under him, though her throat let out silent screams when he did exactly as he said.

Once she felt her orgasm approaching, Y/N wrapped her legs around him and panted, "On the pill. Don't worry." If Adrian was honest, he hadn't thought of that - even though he should've - but he wasn't complaining. Not one bit.

"Come on, baby. I want to hear you," he coaxed. "You gonna cum for me?"

Filled with awe, he watched as Y/N clenched around him with a look of pure ecstasy on her face, tears brimming in her eyes, and that was it. It was the hottest thing he had ever witnessed, and he couldn't hold it back anymore. Adrian jolted, and his vision blurred even more than normal as he came.

Y/N smiled crookedly at him as he flopped his weight onto her, burying his face into her neck as they got their breath back. Now things were a lot more peaceful and slower paced; Y/N could feel her phone poking into her back and wiggled it out from under her, hanging up the call without saying anything else.

The pair cuddled together, neither one speaking or moving much for a few minutes. As he lay atop her, Y/N ran her hands lightly over the strong planes of Adrian's back, smiling at the soft sighs escaping from his lips.

"I gotta pee before I get a UTI." Y/N nudged Adrian's shoulder. "Where's the bathroom, cowboy?"

He gave her the directions and checked out her ass as she left the room. Then he turned onto his back and began excitedly fist-punching the air. "Fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah. Me and Y/N sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," he began to sing to himself, unable to keep in his glee any longer. And he was still smiling at the ceiling when Y/N slid underneath the duvet beside him.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Yeah."

"Sick, lemme find my glasses."

Before he could shoot his hand out and knock his lamp off the bedside table, Y/N lifted his glasses up and delicately placed them on his nose. "There we go. How do I look? Like a sweaty pig, right?" She joked, brushing her thumb along his jawline.

"The sexiest pig I've ever seen."

"How many sexy pigs have you seen?"

"So many," he playfully replied. "Peppa Pig is my dream woman."

"Not Mrs. Piggy? She's hot as hell."

"Too high maintenance."

To further the joke, he took his finger and gently pushed the tip of her nose up so it would look more like a snout. She couldn't help but laugh. Well, she thought it was going to be a laugh, but it actually came out as a snort.

Calling the girl he was hopelessly in love with a piggy was not where he thought his night was going to go. But that's obviously his nickname for her now.

"See? My little piggy."

She gave him a halfhearted slap on the bicep, then snuggled into his side as he lifted his laptop from under his bed and onto his lap. Adrian picked some campy horror movie, and they barely paid attention to it since they alternated between makeout sessions and bouts of playful teasing.

An hour into the movie, Y/N's phone began to blow up with notifications.

Steven: Adrian?

Steven: You fucked that guy from work?

Steven: Slut

Steven: Absolute whore

Steven: Fucking 4eyes?

Steven: You fucked him?

Steven: Him? Of all people?

Steven: You fucking piece of shit

Steven: Tell me it's a joke

Steven: You're fucking with me

Steven: Baby, I know you didn't

Together, they laughed at all the messages that came through. Y/N eventually blocked Steven and closed that chapter of her life forever. "That problem is solved," she reassured with a smug smile, earning a cheek kiss from Adrian.

Y/N: Did you not hear me on the voicemail?

Y/N: I thought I made it very clear that I did.

He played with her fingers and wrongly declared, "If you think about it, we are the perfect pair. Me being a cowboy. You, a pig."

"How so?"

"Cowboys herd pigs. Duh."

Their romantic relationship officially started in hysterical laughter since Y/N cackled at his comment, and it would continue in the exact same way. They were devoted to not only each other, but making each other laugh, and from that moment on would ensure that their romance was fun and hot and exceedingly loving.

*Click here for my masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

Peacemaker taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt, @adriansboyfriend, @10ava01

[white--moon]

Ichigo's touch seems like fire against his skin. The way Ichigo presses the hard length of his cock against the space between his legs is a fucking tease. He's never had someone get him going so quickly, so easily, and with so little effort as what Ichigo manages. "Almost always." It comes out a little too breathless for how little they've actually done, "But lack of isn't gonna stop me, clearly. And whether I can walk later or not is later me's problem. Don't worry about that guy, he'll figure it out." Shiro always does.

That grip on his hips has his knees tightening around Ichigo's middle. He wants that bastard so so bad. It has to be some kind of twisted karma for something he did in the past. There's no way wanting someone this much can be normal. The bite has his breath catching, has his body tense with anticipation. He slides his hands up Ichigo's chest while he's close and easily touched.

When Ichigo sits back, he's fully expecting to finally get cock. Or at least fingers. But it's not lube that Ichigo reaches for. He's distracted watching Ichigo's jaw and throat when he swallows that drink, wanting to drag his tongue up that column of cartilage and skin. And then the bottle is offered to him and it's not really an offer he says no to. He takes a short sip, then a longer one, and he's mid swallow when Ichigo tugs him up onto the ramp of his lap. He barely avoids choking or spilling, and twists a little to put the bottle back on the nightstand before it can end up knocked over and on his bed.

With how worked up he is, the alcohol goes straight to his brain and he's pleasantly, heavily buzzed to go along with achingly hard. He shudders lightly at the feeling of hot flesh pressed against his ass, then curses, pushing up into Ichigo's slick hand when it finds his cock. His brows furrow a little while he parses out what Ichigo's saying and why he's talking about massage oil, but after the moment it takes to click, he absolutely agrees. He starts to reach for his phone, thinking he'll order it right now. You can get everything online. Except his phone is MIA. Probably in his pants pocket still, on the floor or wherever Ichigo tossed them. It wouldn't get here tonight anyway. "Yeah, I'll buy some for next time."

Shit. “It’s not. I just meant… Y'know, so it’s not something you feel you gotta worry about. Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

He blinks. Apparently it’s time to say stupid shit and get himself in trouble. Maybe he has more of a buzz than he realizes. “No, that’s not how I was trying to say.” Not at all, but ok, he can see where it sounded that way. He makes a face. “Fuck. Please don’t.” If Ichigo stopped sleeping with him, he’s pretty confident he would die.

He watches what Ichigo drops to the bed and can’t help the excited warmth that squirms through his guts. Though, that could also be the alcohol. He arches a brow, but he’s amused when Ichigo essentially removes the bottle from the equation. He smirks, lifting his arms to make stripping his shirt easier. As soon as it’s out of the way, his hands seek out all that naked skin Ichigo’s showing. He stumbles a tiny, not quite coordinated step with that nudge, before figuring out where his feet are stepping back more purposely to sit back on the bed. He lifts his hips, helping wiggle out of his jeans. When Ichigo stops tugging, he tries to lean forward to finish it himself, except Ichigo straddles him instead. He completely forgets about taking his pants off. He grips lithe hips, breathing a groan of want, and leans in to lick up the center of Ichigo’s chest.

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[purplecoffee13]

Cross The Line*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N have always had a great professional relationship, all based on one rule; a line they drew the first time they met. But when one day that line accidentally blurs, Harry finds that he doesn’t want it to go back to the way it was…”

Wc: 13k

Tropes: Boss!rry x Secretary!Y/N

Warnings: A LOT of back and forth (this is what Katy Perry wrote hot and cold about), arguing, curse words, smut, dirty talk, degradation, light ch0king, dom/sub dynamics, edging, b0ndage, and recording while… yk🤗

A/N: I’m terribly sorry to have been testing your patience so much the second half of this year, here is a long one shot to say I’m sorry🥲 and I appreciate all of you and I hope you are happy and healthy and will get everything you want in the new year xx💘💘

General Masterlist

HEADER = POV change

Harry's relationship with his secretary is completely normal.

At least, he’s always thought it is.

Sure, it may have seemed more friendly than the usual boss/secretary relationship, but that was only because Y/N was special. She was one of the kind. Smart, stealthy, and sneaky if need be. She did everything he asked for, sometimes before he even realized he should ask her, and was always ready to do more.

Of course, she was attractive as well. Shit, attractive may have even been an understatement. Y/N was drop dead gorgeous and Harry was entirely aware of it. Her ambition made her even sexier, and it's one of the reasons he hired her in the first place.

When Y/N walked through his office door that first time three years ago, he couldn't believe his eyes.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, those wide eyes staring back at him as she froze a couple feet away from him. She was quick to regain herself, though—he had to give her that. But she was nervous as she sat down, even though her movements were calm and the tone of her voice stern. He saw the slightest shake of those hands of her.

Because that job interview hadn't been the first time Harry and Y/N came across each other. It was actually a Halloween party at some high end secretive club in New York one month prior. A night that ended with them hooking up in one of the private lounges.

Even back then, when he never thought he'd see her again, he knew that he would never forget that night, nor the way her face scrunched up as she clenched around him, or the sounds that she made as he drove into her.

He could see that she remembered it as well as she sat across from him that day, but Y/N had quickly made it clear that she was serious about pursuing a career in the film industry. She said she could prove what a great secretary she could be for him, as long as they could put that Halloween night behind them and pretend it never happened. She wouldn't make him regret it, she had told him. He took the chance.

And she had been absolutely right.

Three years had passed and Harry was still thankful to himself for hiring Y/N. She was the best around; fiercely loyal as well. Y/N had been offered jobs by other companies, but she turned down every last one of them. Harry liked to think their relationship played a bit of a part in that as well.

They had become friends—if that's what you could call it—over the years. They had a playful dynamic filled with flirty jokes and random phone calls and favors that blurred that line they had drawn so carefully during Y/N's job interview.

No matter what, Y/N would be the first Harry would call, every time. Whether it was bad business news or a drunken phone call, her number was most likely to be at the top of his last calls. And she always answered, even though she didn't have to. It was a special bond, and while they always danced on it—especially Harry—they never crossed that one line.

Not that Harry needed to. As a matter of a fact, he had quite the adventurous love life. With plenty of people on speed dial and a charming smile that could make anyone's panties drop, Harry wasn't short on romantic escapades. The one thing they all had in common, though, was that it'd never last longer than a few days, and they were rarely ever repeated.

The same couldn't be said for Y/N. In fact, Harry had never seen her with anyone outside of her work, and he never heard her mentioning anything about it...

He didn't know why, but somehow, that thought popped up into his head last Friday as they sat in his office with a drink, celebrating the outstanding reviews that critics had given the newest produced film that was set to premiere next week. Before Harry knew it, he was asking about it.

"Why are you rubbing your temples?" He questioned, watching Y/N massage the side of her head with her eyes closed. He was leaned back in his seat, whiskey in hand as he observed the woman across from him.

"Tension headache." She groaned in response. Despite her grumpiness, Harry couldn't help but grin. What could he say? She was cute when she was grumpy.

"We are literally celebrating, Y/N. What could you possibly be so tense about right now?" He teased, and felt his stomach swirl as a smile painted her lips. She might have rolled her eyes, but she still thought he was funny.

"Oh you have no idea." She mumbled, grabbing her glass and leaning back into her chair. She took a big gulp, her face pulling at the strong taste of the liquor. Harry chuckled.

"You should relax more. Maybe get a hot date to take care of some of that stress for you." He suggested jokingly. Y/N scoffed at the insinuation.

Shaking her head, she said: "I get taken care of just fine, thank you very much."

The equally teasing tone in which she responded caught Harry seriously off guard. Her slight grin pressed down on his chest, and despite having started this joking banter himself, he suddenly didn't find the topic very funny anymore.

"When?"

Y/N locked eyes with her boss. “What?”

"You're here 24/7, when do you even have time to hook up with someone?"

"You know there's this thing called weekends." She joked, but the amusement faded when Harry's mouth didn't even quirk upwards in the slightest bit. It fell quiet for a second or two, and just when Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, someone knocked on the office door.

"Come in."

Harry had said, and soon enough Robin, one of the managers walked in, telling them everyone was going to the pub down the street to celebrate, and if they wanted to come along.

Harry didn't even have the chance to reject the offer—he'd rather spend his nights with his secretary—before Y/N agreed to go along. Feeling obligated, Harry reluctantly gave in as well.

He ended up going home quite early that night, not even properly saying goodbye to Y/N like he normally would before leaving, and he couldn't get the image of her wrapped around another man out of his head the entire ride home. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was the fact that it shouldn't, and more importantly, couldn't bother him, which made it even less bearable.

Whichever reason there may have been for it, he decided to drown out his thoughts by inviting one of his old hook-ups to his house. But even as he drove himself into her as she kept screaming his name, he couldn't stop thinking of Y/N. When she had reached her climax and he began to chase his own high—Harry was caught off guard by Y/N's face flashing through his mind, and extremely embarrassed when those images triggered his orgasm.

The next week is awkward, to say the least. It started out Monday, when Harry could barely look Y/N in the eye. She had received the sudden cold shoulder pretty well, but Harry still felt horrible about it. His attitude got less stiff throughout the week, but it was still bad.

By the time Thursday rolls around again, Harry still hasn't had the chance to get that weird feeling out of his system. So when he approaches his office and spots Y/N behind her desk smiling at him, a wave of guilt washes over him.

He curses himself as he sinks into his desk chair, absentmindedly turning on his laptop. What is he doing? Y/N is his assistant. He shouldn't let his protectiveness of her get the best of him. He does not want to lose her in any way.

Harry flinches when there is a knock on his door. He looks up, finding Y/N standing in his doorway. Immediately, he signals for her to come in. She seems a bit nervous as she nears him, and considering she's never been nervous around him, his heart sinks at the idea that the cold shoulder he's been giving her the other night might have affected her way more than he thought.

He just doesn't know how to behave instead.

"You have a meeting in conference room C in five minutes. It's the banker's son who's been proposing his script for the past year. I  know your schedule is tight, especially with the premiere coming up, but I thought you might as well get it over with." She says, putting a stack of papers on the table that Harry can only assume is the script. He nods, quirking up the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you, smart thinking." The praise falls from his lips in a casual manner, and he doesn't miss the way she physically relaxes at the positive reinforcement. She nods at him, and turns back to the door. Right before she is about to leave the office, she turns around again. Harry leans back in his seat, waiting to hear what she'll say.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped last week." She says, and Harry frowns at the apology.

"What?"

"I clearly said something that ticked you off." She explains,her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know we joke around, but I was afraid that maybe I'd accidentally crossed a line—“

"Y/N, stop it." Harry interrupts her, getting up from his seat. Her lips are locked within a second, and she stares at her boss with wide eyes. His stomach twists at the sight of it. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But— if I said something inappropriate then I want to apologize for it." She says, straightening her posture again, biting her bottom lip so he won't see it quiver. As if he doesn't know the way her body works. As if he hasn't known for three years.

Putting his hands inside his pockets, Harry walks around his desk and stands in front of her. A little closer than he needs to, and yet not as close he would like.

"Let me ask you this: How many times have you declined booty calls for me?" He asks, tilting his head a bit. A slight smile appears on Y/N's face, and she pretends to think it over.

"Twenty-seven." Her smile crinkles her eyes, making them even more glassy. Harry quite literally feels his hand itch to touch her face, but he keeps it sternly in his pocket. "I kept track so I could count all the reasons you definitely won't get into heaven."

At that, he lets out a snort. Y/N can't help but chuckle too, and slowly but surely the weirdness dissolves from the room. When the laughter has died down, she speaks up again.

"So... we're good?"

"We're good." Harry smiles at his secretary, and his chest heats up when he spots the faint blush that appears on her cheeks. Jesus Christ, did she become even more beautiful than she was yesterday or was he just too stupid to notice earlier? Probably the latter.

"Well in that case you need to leave because your meeting is like, right now." She reminds him, and he hums in agreement as he gets up from his seat and walks towards the door with Y/N.

"Already gone, love." He winks at her, walking out the door with a lot more confidence in his relationship with Y/N. Maybe everything can go back to normal again. Maybe he was just exaggerating when he couldn't get her out of his head this weekend. Perhaps it was just a glitch, a temporary error in his brain that had come and gone in a flash.

That must've been it, he tells himself as he makes his way to conference room C. He takes a deep breath, musters a polite smile, and opens the door to the room. Harry already knows this guy is going to be wasting his time, but he made a promise to hear him out, so he will.

The guy sitting at the table is the stereotypical spoiled rich son. When John Longwell—a long-time business partner of Harry's— asked him to revise his son's script as a favor, Harry told him he'd do it if he ever found the time. He always hoped John's son would lose interest and forget about the script by the time Harry could find a free space in his agenda, but unfortunately that hadn't been the case.

And although the arc of the story had sounded absolutely horrendous— something about zombies fueled by a brainwashing radio song, which didn't even make sense to Harry because zombies don't have brains—he couldn't back out anymore. So he needs to get it over with, starting now.

Harry loudly shuts the door.

The guy—whose name he can't really remember at the moment—flinches and turns around, a big grin on his face as he gets up from his seat.

"Mr. Styles, it's a pleasure to see you." The man says, extending his hand, which Harry, in turn, takes. He only gives a slight nod before heading over to the other side of the table and sitting down.

"So, where's your script?" Harry asks, eyeing the empty table. The guy looks flustered, opening his mouth to say something, but the opening of the door interrupts that. Harry leans back in his seat when he spots his secretary walk through it, not even eyeing the other guy as she struts over to him and lays the printed out script on the glass table.

"Sorry, you forgot this. It was still on your desk." She says, finally turning to the man to throw him an innocent smile. His sheepish grin satisfies her enough to turn back to her boss and focus all her attention on him. "I also forgot to ask you— do you want to move up lunch today?"

The corner of Harry's mouth tugs up. Over the last three years, the concept of 'moving up lunch' has become a code for 'should I get you out of this early?'. Y/N came up with it a long time ago, and it has stuck ever since.

"Yes, I would very much like that. Thank you, Y/N." He says, and the way a smirk slowly creeps onto her face makes the hairs on his body rise.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Styles." She gives one final nod before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Harry would lie if he said he didn't let his eyes fall onto the way her hips moved as she strolled away.

Unfortunately the fun doesn't last long, and with the slam of the door Harry is reminded that he still has to sit through this meeting a little longer. He looks down at the script.

"A Thousand Zombies

By Jason Longwell."

Right, Jason, that was his name.

"Jesus Christ, if that were my secretary I'd have her bent over my desk all day. How do you get any work done?" Jason breathed out, grinning like a stupid fucking schoolboy. Harry quite literally felt the storm cloud that came floating right above his head the second he heard that incompetent loser say those words. His hands balled up into fists at the suggestive comment, knuckles getting whiter by the second.

"Get out." Harry growls. John raises his eyebrows, looking around him as if Harry couldn't have possibly been addressing it to him.

"W— what?" He stumbles.

"I don't do business with insolent idiots. Get out." Harry repeats, getting up from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. John follows his movements, anger starting to cloud on his face.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He exclaims in a failed attempt to sound intimidating. At least, Harry assumes that's what he's trying to do.

"I called you an idiot. Now, get the hell out of my face before I boot your sorry ass right to the front door." With one brow raised, he waits as John tries to muster a response until he eventually gives up and storms out of the room. Harry throws the script into the trash as he walks out of the conference room half a minute later. Y/N is immediately by his side.

"That was quick, I didn't even have time to think of an emergency." She jokes as they walk back to Harry's office together. He raises a brow.

"Yes you did. What was it this time? Food poisoning?" He guesses, holding the door to his office open once they've reached it. Y/N grins as she walks past him and takes a seat at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Actually, your car was going to get stolen in about five minutes." She responds, the blush of her cheeks revealing the slight embarrassment of having to voice this excuse out loud. Harry's eyes widen as he walks over to his desk, feeling his assistant watching his every move. He quite likes the feeling.

"No way." He laughs. "You just get more creative by the day."

"What can I say, I'm good at crisis management." She shrugs, crossing her legs and getting into a more comfortable position on the chair. Harry tries his best to not let his eyes float to her legs.

"That you are." He murmurs, the huskier sound of his voice giving a different ambiance to the conversation. As Harry feels the mood switch, he curses himself. Why did he have to ruin it?

Y/N clears her throat. "Anyway— why'd the meeting end early?"

"It ended early because Jason Longwell is a sleazy douchebag." He responds shortly, straightening in his seat in an attempt to gain control of the situation again. He can't let himself slip like this again, and she can't know the real reason he kicked out Jason. But there is no denying the sheer rage that boils his blood when that comment flashes through his memory. He hates that the asshole thought he could just speak about Y/N like that.

"Ooh, what did he say when you kicked him out?" Y/N asks eagerly, still in a playful mood. "You did kick him out right?"

"I don't have time to get into this right now. I need to sign those contracts that were sent in yesterday before I go home." Harry says sternly, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he speaks, but he still sees the slump in her shoulders at his sudden shift in attitude.

"Right, of course." She immediately returns to the responsible secretary she always is, getting up from her seat. He hears her exit the room, heels clacking against the wooden floor. As soon as the door has shut, Harry throws his head back in frustration.

So much for going back to normal.

Playing into the teasing will only rope him further into that forbidden fantasy, and he clearly won't be able to stop himself from resisting her if he does. But he's the one who started all the playfulness, massively screwing himself over he realizes now. If he shifts his behavior, she's always going to think he's mad at her because of something.  But he's going to have to, because Harry can't go back to normal anymore.

Deciding he needs to clear his head, Harry grabs his coat and heads for the elevators without so much as a word. He pretends not to notice the way people's eyes widen when he walks by, suddenly on their best behavior, and although it used to give him an ego boost back when he started, nowadays he just prefers it if people aren't scared of him.

It turns out to be a particularly nice outside for a winter day in London. Not to get it twisted— it's still freakishly cold. It's just that the sun has replaced the endless rain of this entire month. Harry suppresses a chuckle at the irony of the sun finally being out at the very first moment where he's felt so shitty in a long time.

He doesn't know how long he's outside, so he knows it's not fair to be frustrated when he comes back and Y/N isn't at her desk, but he can't help the slight distress that washes over him at the empty seat.

"It's just a date—"

"Your second date!"

Harry creased brows don't do much to hide his feelings when he turns around to see his secretary with a co-worker. The shy smile on her face—accompanied with that blush on her cheeks she always gets when she's secretly giddy about something—disappears at the sight of her boss looking at her like she just killed a puppy.

"Ha— Mr. Styles." She is quick to catch her almost error. Her wide eyes bore into his, filled with confusion and worry. But Harry's frown doesn't give away much, aside. From the fact that he is obviously annoyed.

"I was looking for you." He states stoically, not even acknowledging the employee that is standing next to her. The woman takes the hint and gives Y/N and Harry a small nod before walking away. As soon as she does, Harry turns around and walks towards his own office. He can hear her footsteps following him inside, and with the inconsistent clacking against the floor he can tell she's having a hard time keeping up with his long strides. Still, he doesn't slow his pace.

"I need the papers for the donations printed out and on my desk. And I'll need you to move the meeting with the director of the romance movie to Tuesday evening."

"Yes, of course." The breathy response falls from Y/N's lips the second he finishes his sentence, and by the time he enters his office, she is long gone to do exactly what he asked. Harry shuts the door a little louder than intending to, accidentally shaking the framed artwork on the wall.

Y/N isn't very talkative for the rest of the day, that usual spark of hers seemingly having dimmed. Harry's chest is heavy, knowing his cold attitude was the catalyst for that, but he keeps it up nonetheless. He can't help himself from falling back into it every time he sees her face.

A date. She's going on a date. A second one at that. He can't believe it. Is this who she referred to when she said she gets taken care of? His stomach churns at the possibility.

He tries not to, but Harry still gets warped into the spiral of overthinking about 'date' Y/N has tonight. So much, in fact, that he almost doesn't notice the time flying by until Y/N knocks on his door at 6PM. Harry spots the coat that hangs over her desk chair, and he realizes the work day is over.

"Everything is done for the day and ready for next week. I also sent the papers about the donations with a courier who owed me a favor, so the documents are signed on both parts and the donations will be officially registered by Monday." She explains, hands behind her back. Her new shy behavior—while quite endearing—is excruciating to see. She had always been comfortable around Harry, until now. Until he had to ruin it for the both of them.

"Thank you." Harry gives her a firm nod.

"No problem." She responds a bit awkwardly. "So... I'm going to clock out for the day."

Y/N has already turned around by them time Harry's voice croaks out a 'no'. She whips her head towards her boss, head tilted as she awaited whatever it was that he was going to say.

"I need those contracts for that romance movie." He says before he can even comprehend his words.

"But you won't be negotiating that deal for another two weeks." Y/N retorts, her tone more stern than usual. He can tell she's tired.

"I don't care. I want them on my desk tonight." He holds his head high, despite knowing damn well what he's doing.

He's stalling. Long enough for... he doesn't know actually. For her to cancel her date? It sounds ridiculous now that he really thinks about it.

"Harry, I have an appointment tonight—"

"I said I don't care. I pay you to do as I ask. This is not something you can argue me on." He grumbles. With how Y/N's jaw is clenched, he can't say the same for her attitude. Without another word, she leaves the office.

Harry's worry begins to grow every minute that passes with Y/N out of sight. But when she returns with a stack of papers in her hand after a bit—seven minutes to be exact—that worry evolves into surprise. Walking over to his desk, she plops the papers on them a bit carelessly before speaking up.

"I had them made on Monday because I like to be a few steps ahead." She elaborates. "Now, if that's all, I'm going home."

Y/N doesn't even say goodbye when she grabs her coat and walks to the elevators. Harry sighs to himself, not knowing how the hell he should handle this. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes he really can't do this anymore. He needs to talk to her, if only just to clear the air.

And so, he gets up from his seat and hurries after his assistant.

He catches her just as she walks into an empty elevator, and he joins just before the doors close. Her knitted brows make it clear that she is not in the mood to talk to him.

"I'm sorry... about the documents." Harry confesses, but she doesn't face him. It stays quiet between them for a bit, until the biting sentence falls from Y/N's lips.

"You said we were good."

His heart cracks at her wobbly voice. He can't believe he made her feel this way. If any other person would've brought her to tears, he would've beaten the shit out of them. He reaches for her arm.

"W— we are." He lies. It's the biggest lie he's ever told her, and she knows it, because she immediately turns around.

"No we're not! I said I was sorry if I did something wrong, and you told me it was okay, and now all of a sudden you're being so... cold. I don't understand—" her eyes become glassy. "I don't understand what I did wrong."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to spout out his apologies, when Y/N's phone starts to ring. It takes them out of their little trance, and Y/N fumbles around her jacket for a bit until she's finally found her phone. He can't see who's calling her, but it can't be an expected call if he has to judge by the expression on her face.

"Marco, why are you—" her eyes widen at whatever the voice on the other side of the line is telling her, and Harry subconsciously finds himself leaning in a bit in the hope to find out what's wrong.

"What?" Y/N breathes. Her voice is small, and it sounds defeated, tired. The elevator dings, signaling they're downstairs, but Y/N doesn't move, so Harry doesn't either. She seems to notice and lets out a huff before storming out of the confined space and pacing around the lobby.

"You said we had a green light! That was months ago, Marco! Did you even—" She growls, clutching at her phone so hard Harry is afraid she's going to break it. "You know what, never mind. Give me his number."

The Marco guy seems to say something that he really shouldn't have said, because with the way Y/N's face twists Harry swears he can see steam coming out of her ears

"I don't care that they're not answering, I'll make them answer. Give me their numbers and then go find them." She orders before ending the call. And although the thought really shouldn't be crossing his mind right now, Harry can't help but notice how attractive Y/N is when she's mad. He shakes off the thought, telling himself that's the last thing he should be paying attention to right now.

Y/N paces around one more time, cursing under her breath, before striding past Harry and pushing the elevator buttons like a maniac.

"What's going on?"

Y/N shakes her head. "N— nothing. Just a little hiccup that could've easily been prevented. I won't be long."

Harry raises a skeptical brow, but she doesn't dare to meet his eye. She's lying through her teeth.

"Y/N—"

"Harry, really, it's nothing. I'm taking care of it." She tries to convince him, but he notices the way her hands are slightly trembling. "I'm sorry I was unprofessional. You're my boss. It's my job to take your orders, not question them."

Wait, no.

That aching feeling fills his stomach. His entire body, for that matter. He doesn't want her to be a silent and compliant assistant. That's not why he hired her. He needs someone to push back, to joke around with. Shit— what has he done?

Harry finds himself speechless as she enters the elevator and pushes the button of the seventh floor; the office. His brain isn't fast enough to think of what to say before the doors shut and the elevator ascends.

His feet stay glued to the ground as he ponders, his mind reeling like a rollercoaster. Frustration fills his body to his every finger tip. Everything has gone wrong, and he has no idea how to make it better.

At least ten minutes must've gone by by the time that a concierge taps Harry on the shoulder to ask him if he's okay. Still a bit wary, he nods before excusing himself and leaving the building.

Everything is going wrong.

Leaning over the desk with her face buried between her arms, Y/N is unable to hold back the tears that glide over her cheeks.

First, her boss gets mad at her, and she has no idea why. Then, just when they seemed to be okay again, he changed his attitude up again. And what does she do instead of letting it go? She starts a fight. And now Marco drops a disastrous bomb in her lap that could entirely ruin the movie premiere on Sunday. And if that wasn't enough—and she really thinks it was—this sudden crisis caused her to cancel her date of tonight.

It wasn't anything special, really. Y/N had met Jamie a few weeks ago, and they went out last week. He was a nice guy, handsome too, and she thought he was perfect for a short lived affair. Besides, her vibrator just couldn't live up to her fantasies. She was human, she needed to get off every now and then too. It was like Y/N had this itch in need of scratching, one she hadn't been able to reach in what felt like years.

But that wasn't going to happen now. In fact, she was risking being fired if she didn't solve this problem as soon as possible.

Damn! She really thought she had kept it all together, despite the extreme business this year. She thought she'd done a good job.

But that was a lie, because if she had done a good job, Marco wouldn't have ever gotten into the position where an artist on the soundtrack could manipulate the contract they signed. Y/N had told Marco to make it airtight, already having been suspicious of the artists' integrity from the moment they became part of the soundtrack. She assumed that they would try something.

'Chain' was an up and coming band known for their indie sound, but Y/N would just describe them as two pricks. Not only had they been subtly demeaning to her when Harry met with them, barely acknowledging her existence, they were arrogant as well. They came in expecting a lot more money than Harry and the rest of the company were willing to give them. It was absurd that they expected such a big number, but their cocky attitude didn't fade throughout the meeting.

It was truly a favor to the director, why Harry worked so hard to compromise with Chain. The director had been so passionate about the movie, and he had really wanted the song. If one thing was important to Harry, it's that there went passion onto the projects he produced and invested in. So, he decided to help, and eventually managed to struck a deal with the singers. It was still way above the pay grade they should've got—in Y/N's opinion—but they agreed.

Having seen first hand how greedy those two were, she had told Marco—the guy who handled all the legal documents—to make that contract airtight. She demanded to look it over, but because of her busy schedule, she let Marco have another lawyer look at it before sending the contract.

And now, because of a lazy mistake Chain's lawyer found, they are demanding more money or they'll waive their rights to the music. Something which would be absolutely detrimental because the entire climax of the movie, the cinematography and timing are all tuned to the song.

If she doesn't find a way to solve this problem, this entire premiere could fall apart, and it would all be her fault. She gave the green light to Harry, who gave it to the director. It's all her fault. 

She should've fucking read that contract herself, then this would've never happened.

Between Harry being mad at her, the fact that she was in her luteal phase, and this sudden disaster, the tears began streaming down her face, and the soft crying only turned into full on sobs the more she tries to calm herself down.

She allows herself the mental breakdown, but when she begins to regain control of her breath again after a few minutes, Y/N decides that it's enough. She has a job to get done, and no one was going to swoop in and save her.

So, she starts making call after call, ringing everyone in the immediate vicinity of the two arrogant bastards. It's crucial she reaches them before the night is over. Only forty minutes have passed by the time she is on the seventh person, but it feels like an eternity nonetheless.

She flinches when, while trying to reach Chain's tour manager, the elevator door dings and a shadow nears. Her tense shoulders sink a little bit at the sight of Harry, glad it's not some creep. Her brows crease as she watches him walk towards her. He's carrying a couple of bags with... is that food? It sure smells like it.

When the call goes to voicemail—for the third time—Y/N puts down the phone and gets up from her seat, hurrying over to her boss and stopping him before he could reach her desk.

"What are you doing here?!" She asks, blocking his way. He lifts the bags, a subtle, apologetic smile on his face.

"I brought food—" He looks up at her, and his eyes darken as soon as he takes in her face. "Have you been crying?"

Y/N raises her hands to her face, quickly glancing at the ground while she wipes her cheeks before meeting his eyes again. Harry puts the bags down, and it feels like her heart skips a beat or two when his thumbs stroke the skin under both her eyes. He leaves his hand around her face, cupping her jaw while he stares at her with such a piercing pain in his eyes that it makes Y/N's eyes water altogether again.

"What's wrong?" His voice is soft, and the feel of his big, warm hands holding her is comforting her in a way she hasn't experienced in a quite some time. Y/N only focused on his chest, afraid that the welled up water in her eyes will spill out again the second she looks at her boss. She told herself the crying was over, so why wasn't she able to control herself?

A few seconds pass, and silence runs between the thick air that makes it nearly impossible to breathe normally. Then, Y/N feels the slight pressure of Harry's hands, inching her head upwards. Automatically, her gaze flicks to that of her boss, and when she sees the worry on his face, a tear escapes her eye. His thumb catches it before it has the chance to roll down all the way down her cheek.

"I messed up." She only says, closing her eyes in shame. Harry says nothing, only letting out a sigh as he continues to caress her cheek.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Y/N reluctantly backs away from Harry's touch, and runs over to her desk to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" She says, her voice laced with such desperation that she internally cringes at it.

"Y/N? It's Marco. I found them, they're at a studio just outside the city."

She hums, grabbing a pen. "Give me the address."

"No, I'm going. This is my mess, Y/N, I'm not going to let you clean it up." Marco croaks from the other side of the line, and Y/N feels his voice tug at her heartstrings.

"Marco, listen to me. This is as much my fault as it is yours. I should've read the damn thing and notice the mistake." She replies, leaning over her desk to grab her coat.

"Y/N, I'll take care of it, okay? I found a fault in their loophole, they're stuck. Let me handle this. You just go home and enjoy what's left of your evening I ruined—" Marco tells her. "Wait, didn't you have a date tonight? Oh my god, did I ruin your date?"

"I did... but it's alright. It probably wouldn't have worked out with him anyway." Y/N chuckled awkwardly and glanced towards Harry, who looked weirdly annoyed at what she said.

"I'm so sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Marco shares the desperate plea.

"You can make it up to me by giving me the address of the studio." Y/N tells him cheekily.

"Y/N..." he warns.

"What? I promise I'm going home. It's just so I know where you are." She lies. Y/N is a good liar, except in front of Harry. Having a tendency to get nervous, she always betrays herself. She's lucky that this is a phone call, otherwise Marco would've known she wasn't planning on going home at all.

Hesitantly, he gives her the address, which she immediately writes down on her hand.

"Okay, thank you Marco. Good luck." She says, hanging up the phone with a lot more confidence than ten minutes ago. She can feel Harry staring her down as she puts on her coat, clearly waiting for an explanation for this whiplash-like behavior.

"I really have to go."

Harry shrugs. "I'll give you a ride. You can explain everything to me on the way to your house."

Y/N shakes her head, walking towards her boss. "No, really, you don't have to."

"Yes I do." Harry argues.

"You really don't."

"Do you have a problem with me bringing you home, Y/N?" He asks as if he's dumb, as if he doesn't know she's secretly trying to go to that studio.

"No!" She is quick to protest.

"Or does it have anything to do with the address of that mysterious studio you've written on your hand?" He teases, and Y/N clenches her jaw in frustration.

"I just— I need to make sure it's handled." She sputters. Harry shrugs.

"From what I heard it's being handled just fine." He points out. "You've got to learn to let things go sometimes, Y/N."

She shakes her head, looking the floor. "I can't. Not with this."

Harry lowers his head, trying to get on the same eye-level as her and searching for her eyes. "Why not?"

"I told you; I messed up." Her voice quivers as she tells Harry the truth. "There was a mistake in the contract with Chain. Somehow they found a loophole, and now they want more money or they'll waive the rights to their song."

"What?!" Harry growls, exactly like Y/N anticipated he'd react. God, he's going to fire her any moment.

"It's my fault. It was a reference mistake I could've easily spotted if I had taken the time to revise it." She admits, feeling extremely shameful of her lazy actions.

"What are you talking about? This is the legal team's fault, they should've seen that damned mistake! It's not in your job description to revise a contract, it's not your responsibility. It's not your fault, Y/N." He explains. She sucks in a breath, his words hitting her harder than she expected. Heart aching, the one sentence rings in her head.

It's not your fault.

That couldn't be true, could it? She was responsible for this deal, and for Harry. She should've seen this coming, even though she couldn't have possibly known. Did she not always pride herself in having this sixth sense, in being ahead of everyone else? What was she without that? What was she if not the best at the one thing that made her special, that set her apart from the crowd. What was she worth without that invincibility?

"You revise every contract, don't you?"

Her eyes flick towards her boss. She doesn't say anything, but the answer is hidden in her pupils. And it seems Harry can read them like an open book. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Two years." Y/N stammers, her arms crossed as if it will keep her body from revealing whatever her mouth won't. Harry just lets out a breathy chuckle before pulling her into his arms, taking her into a sweet embrace. With his chin leaning on her head, Y/N takes the opportunity to bury her face in his chest, trying not to bask too much in the heavenly scent of his cologne.

"Remind me to give you a raise." He jokes in a soft whisper, earning a sniff of laughter from Y/N.

For a while it seems like everything that tore her down, including what went down between her and Harry, didn't exist anymore. There was just him and her, their embrace and a distant ticking clock, the only indicator of time passing. Yet it felt like the world stopped, or slowed down at least, being in Harry's arms like that. And suddenly, that itch that she hadn't been able to scratch in so long, it felt like it was soothed by a stroking hand instead, and in a way it fulfilled her. It just so happened to be a way she did not expect.

The initial shock at the realization—this puzzle piece that suddenly clicked—made Y/N back away. She clears her throat, fiddling with her hands.

"They're supposed to be at this studio right outside the city. It's only twenty minutes away by car. I just need to be sure." She announces. Harry grabs the bags of food he put down before placing his hand on her lower back and guiding the both of them back to the elevator.

"We'll take my car." He states, and although Y/N can tell by his tone that Harry expects there to be no talking back, but she just can't help herself.

"Harry, I told you I can take a cab." She suggests as they wait for the elevator door to open. Harry doesn't respond as he guides them both into the small space and pushes the button for the ground floor. When the door closes, he turns to her, looking down at her with such an intimidating stare that Y/N feels like she's shrinking.

"And I told you: we're taking my car." He says sternly, his low voice twisting her stomach in an interesting way. When Y/N goes to open her mouth again, Harry lays his finger on her lips. He hums in disapproval, shaking his head.

"I was being clear, right?" He asks rhetorically. His gaze sweeps over her mouth before settling on her eyes again. Not daring to speak another word, let alone breathe, Y/N only nods in response.

"Good." Harry responds, a cocky smirk framing his face as he strolls out of the elevator, leaving Y/N breathless and in a slight trance. Blinking a few times, she comes back to her sense and hurries after her boss.

Richard has always been a master at reading people, and this time is no exception. The second he began driving, he raised the partition, leaving Harry and Y/N with some privacy.

Harry really has a knack for hiring the right people.

The first few minutes of the car ride are silent, and Harry spends it observing Y/N as she picked at her nail beds, frantically looking at of the window as if it would make the car move faster. She has so much tension inside that little body of hers; she is clearly in need of a distraction.

"I think I'm jealous."

Y/N's head whips to him, brows raised at the sudden confession. Her body turns with her, knees now in Harry's direction as she leans back into the seat, getting comfortable as she lays close attention.

"Of me?" She asks, utterly confused. She seems very lost, not really connecting the dots. Harry doesn't blame her; that confession was quite out of the blue.

"Of whoever gets to take care of you."

Pure silence. Harry swears he could hear a pin drop. Y/N stares at him like a deer in headlights, probably having no idea what to say or do or think. She gulps.

"What?" Her voice is so soft that he almost doesn't hear her, but since all his focus is on her, he doesn't miss it. Letting out a breath, he leans forward, placing a hand on her thigh. His face inches closer and closer until their mouths are mere inches away from each other. Checking for her reaction with every small movement, he can't help but notice how she doesn't stray away from him. In fact, she leans in, causing their lips to brush against each other.

"The idea of another man touching you, having you, it makes my fucking blood boil." He says, voice hoarse. Her eyes frantically search every last inch of his face, looking for something she seemingly can't find. Perhaps she's attempting to find the usual playfulness that always accompanies any conversation that blurs that line between them. In that case, she could keep looking forever and ever, because he is dead serious. Fuck how it used to be and fuck whatever's right or wrong.

And most of all, fuck that line, because he's crossing it.

Harry closes the small gap between them, trying to suppress the moan that threatens to work up his throat at the sole feeling of her lips against his. What a fucking idiot he was for ever agreeing to forget about that Halloween night. Not that he ever truly did forget about it. Besides her obvious competencies, hiring Y/N was a way of keeping her where he seemed to like her best from the moment they met; close to him.

With that thought in mind, he wraps his hand around her face and pulls her closer. She complies, clicking her seatbelt free to move further towards Harry when he slips his tongue inside.

Their mouths move against each other like it's both the first time and the hundredth time they've done this. So familiar and yet it's like nothing he ever felt before. A sensation so different from three years ago, one so heavy and laced with a detail his brain can't quite seem to grasp. Deep down, he knows what it is, he just can't quite lay his finger on it.

But his body can, and it does, and so does Y/N's, because her grinding against him is exactly what he needs. His hand sneaks around her neck, lips curling into a smile at the familiarity of the curves of her neck and the identical moan that falls from her lips just as it did three years ago.

Harry groans when the car suddenly stops and Y/N falls forward a little bit, the friction against his trousers being a bit too much to bear at the moment. Slowly, the partition lowers, and without so much looking at them through the mirror, Richard speaks up.

"We've arrived."

Wrong. Harry clearly hasn't.

Before Harry can catch his breath, Y/N can get off his lap, and either one can even answer, the partition rises again. Immediately, Y/N throws her face into Harry's neck.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She wheezes out in pure, utter shame. Harry shakes his head, a faint grin on his face. He would have been laughing his ass off if he wasn't so painfully hard right now. Instead, he only pats Y/N's back, telling her it's fine. She groans and opens the car door.

"No it's not! God, I will never be able to look him in the eye again!" She says, punching the bridge of her nose. Harry shuts the door and grabs Y/N's waist, pulling her towards him. She stumbles into his chest. He lifts her face with his fingers, forcing her to look up at him.

"You're going to have to, because I don't want to fire him." He jokes, and Y/N bites her lip to keep her smile from growing too wide. Not wanting to give Harry the satisfaction that he made her laugh, she looks to the side, but her face expression falls quickly.

"This is not my apartment." She notes, looking at the huge building next to her. "This is yours."

Harry nods.

"I can't be at your apartment, I have to—" Y/N stops herself before she can say more. But Harry already knew what she was going to say. Playfully, he raises a brow.

"You have to... what?"

"To... I have to—"

"Sneak out to that studio?" He finishes her sentence, and her eyes widen. She tries to regain herself but her cheeks are flushed and there is nothing she can do anymore. He's got her. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

With that, he places a hand on her lower back and guides her towards his building. She stumbles a bit, but eventually catches onto the pace. But her body language is apprehensive, looking back at the road where Richard is standing. Or well, was standing. Harry ordered him to drive away as soon as they got out of the car.

Still, she turns around in a quick motion, trying to get to a cab. Harry's arm catches her, however, and he pulls her back against his chest. Along with his other hand, he turns her around, catching sight of her big eyes boring into his.

"Don't try me." He speaks slowly, dipping his head down until he finds himself inches away from Y/N. "You know what happens if you try me."

His voice is lower than before, having flipped a switch now that her mouth has been on his. He got a taste for the first time in years, he wasn't going to let her get away now. Y/N's breath hitches, eyes flicking down to his mouth.

Knowing he's got her right where he wants her, Harry pulls back and strolls toward the entrance of his apartment building. Soon enough, he hears those heels behind him and he smirks.

It's silent when they step in the elevator, and for the first few seconds, as Harry leans agains't the wall and observes his secretary, it stays that way. She eyes him a couple of times, her ears getting redder.

"What?" She breathes out, looking down at her body like there must be something wrong if he's looking at her for so long. He simply shrugs.

"Nothing. Just admiring you."

At that, Y/N vigorously shakes her head and crosses her arms. A soft scoff leaves her mouth, one she didn't think Harry would hear, but he did. He takes a few steps towards Y/N, inching her against the wall.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" He asks sincerely, searching for her eyes. When she finally looks up at him, the nervous smile on her face fades a bit.

Harry doesn't like that look on her face. Needing to fix it, he leans forward and plants his lips on hers again, grabbing her face and pulling her into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before her arms are wrapped around his neck and their bodies are impossibly close to each other again.

Tongues delving deeper into each other's mouth, Harry feels himself floating on some sort of feeling. Despite not being able to define it, he is absolutely positive that he doesn't ever want it to stop. And since kissing Y/N causes this specific feeling, the only feasible option is to never stop kissing her. It's the best plan he's had in ages.

It doesn't take long before the situation gets heated, much like it did before, and Harry's hands trail to Y/N's hips to pull her against him. Desperate for any sort of relief, Harry's hips automatically start to move, and Y/N immediately responds. His body feels like it's on fire, and he tries not to let out any sounds as his strained cock rubs against his tight pants.

Harry takes his lips off Y/N's mouth, peppering kisses to her jaw instead. Slowly, he works his way towards her ear, where he stops to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to remind you how fucking beautiful you are." The hot breath that left his mouth had her shuddering against him, a slight whine escaping her lips. As he leaves sloppy kisses on Y/N's neck, Harry's free hand slowly travels under her shirt, finding her bra.

She gasps softly when his hand starts to massage her breast, the sensitivity of both spots leaving her hot and bothered under Harry. Fuck, she is so fucking stunning, how did she not see it herself?

Suddenly, the elevator stops, and the door opened. Taking a step back, Harry only winks at Y/N before he turns around and strolls out as if it's a casual Friday. As if he doesn't have his secretary, whom he left high and dry, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks when they enter his home, Harry immediately going into the kitchen.

"Absinthe." Y/N breathes out, leaning over the kitchen island. Harry peeks inside his fridge.

"I only have white wine."

Y/N shrugs. "I'm sure it'll have the same effect if I just keep drinking."

Harry chuckles, grabbing the bottle of wine and placing it on the counter. He walks to a cabinet and takes two wine glasses out of it. Placing one in front of Y/N and the other in front of himself, he opens the bottle and starts pouring, not stopping until the glasses are halfway full. Y/N laughs at the ridiculously full wine glass that he pushes her way, but takes it gladly. He doesn't miss the way her breasts nearly spill out of her top as she leans forward a bit further than intended to in order to grab the glass.

"To the unexpected." She says it like it's a dare. Amused, Harry decides to entertain it, and nods his head.

"To the unexpected."

They raise the glasses before both taking a long sip. Y/N rests her arms on the table, giving a perfect view of her tits right in Harry's frame. She smirks when his eyes accidentally fall on it, and Harry's stomach swirls with excitement. She's trying to play.

"Crazy, how fast life can change, isn't it?" She asks rhetorically, and Harry just hums, waiting patiently for her to reveal what she's trying to do. "I mean, I got up today thinking I'd end the day in another man's bed."

There it is.

She's always been smart, and she knows how to push Harry's buttons. Though his fingers grip the kitchen counter tightly, so much that his knuckles turn white, Harry keeps the corners of his mouth lifted.

"And now you're here." He says, head tilting just a bit. She hums in agreement, taking another sip from her wine.

"Yeah, but just crazy to think that I went into the day thinking I'd hook up with someone else." She tells it so innocently, as if she's mostly talking to herself. Harry's jaw clenches as he stalks around the kitchen island and nears Y/N.

"But you're not, though." Harry notes, falling right into the trap. He knows what she's trying to do but he just can't help himself. He doesn't like the idea of her being with another man. He waits for her answer, hearing his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"I know, but I could have—"

Before the sentence has entirely left Y/N's mouth, Harry's hand flies to her neck. The amused look on Y/N's face tells him enough, but he doesn't care.

"You're not. You're in my bed tonight, and any night after that as far as I'm concerned, so I don't want to hear another fucking word about it."

Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she stares up at him. "You really are jealous."

The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, "And you've gotten feisty over the years."

Y/N bites her bottom lip, humming in agreement to his observation. Harry lets out a soft chuckle, tightening the grip on her neck. Y/N gasps in surprise.

"But do you still like to be put in your place?" He asks, inching his face close to hers. The answer is written in her eyes, and yet Y/N doesn't respond. When it's clear that she won't anytime soon, Harry's free hand sneaks around the waist of her pants. She shivers at the touch.

"Well? Do you?" He repeats himself, and slowly but surely, Y/N nods her head. Harry lets out a disapproving noise. "That's not a proper answer."

Closing her eyes, Y/N lets out a deep breath. "Yes, I like to be put in my place."

"That's what I thought." Harry laughs, taking his hands off of her entirely. She frowns, but her eyes widen when he barks out a demand. "Take off your clothes."

He watches carefully as she follows his orders, and she clearly takes her time stripping down to her underwear. When she has, she looks to him for some sign of approval, but Harry just raises his brows. His hands are sunk into his pockets as Y/N lets out a little breath and takes off her bra and panties.

His eyes trail down her body, his cock hurting at the sight of her. God, she's beautiful. He feels like an absolute idiot for not having fought for her earlier, but he reminds himself that he can't change the past and that she is here now, stark naked in his kitchen. A grin spread across his face.

"Do you remember how you addressed me all those years ago?" He asks. It takes a few seconds before Y/N answers, but she gives him a firm nod.

"I called you sir."

Harry nods. "Rules haven't changed. Now, get on the counter."

Her eyes flick to the marble countertop, shock flashing through her eyes. "But Har—"

His right brow lifts ever so slightly. Catching the hint, Y/N stops herself before she can finish the sentence and hoists herself on to the cold countertop. It must not be very pleasant to lay your naked body on that freezing surface, but it was an uncomfortable temporary obstacle. The results would be great, and in about thirty seconds, she'd forget all about that cold touch against her skin.

Harry pulls out one of the bar stools and sat directly in front of Y/N. Spreading her legs apart, he catches sight of that perfect pussy he has been waiting three years to taste again. Like a starved man sat in front of a feast, the urge to dive right in is almost too strong to bear. But before he has her writhing under him, he wants to make her shiver.

"Can't believe it took us so long to get here." Harry hums, tracing his fingers up her thigh, carefully observing the way Y/N tries to control her breathing. Her fists are balled up into curls, attempting to send her concentration to anything else than Harry. He tries not to let his smugness show too much, but he has to say he likes seeing her struggle a bit. A bit of payback for trying to toy with him just now.

"You've always been stubborn." Y/N jokes, a gasp strangling out of her when Harry's fingers ghost over her clit. He chuckles, the tone of his voice so low that it could almost be considered evil.

"If I remember correctly, you're the one who wanted to forget about that Halloween night." He notes. Y/N hums.

"I also made the condition to act professionally, but we didn't do that either." Her eyes gaze into his, catching the fond smile with which he stares at her. A faint blush erupts on her cheeks.

"You drew the line." Harry retorted, and Y/N scoffed.

"You crossed it about a hundred times." She argues in response. He only hums, that cocky smirk on his face.

"I did, and consider this hundredth and first time to be the last, because I'm not getting behind that line again."

Y/N has never been so turned on her in her entire life. Harry’s words are the epitome of determination, and the way his fingers slip inside her so easily the second he finishes his sentence only solidifies that notion. The gasp that leaves her mouth is cut short and evolves into a low moan as Harry’s lips latch onto her clit.

Sensitive would be an understatement for her current state. She is aching, and the way Harry is ravishing her almost hurt. But any pain dwells in comparison to her desire she was overcome with at the situation she currently finds herself in. She is on Harry's kitchen counter, legs spread wide open and letting him do all the things that slipped into her dreams over the past three years.

Harry sucks in all the ways that made her squirm, moving his fingers with such ease that made it seem like he has fingered her a thousand times already. As if he knows her like the back of his hand, as if he knows all her secrets, even ones she doesn't know herself.

Y/N's hand buries itself in Harry's hair when he begins to kitten lick her clit, and she feels that inevitable climax inching closer and closer. She wonders how she had been able to keep herself composed for so long, because the high that creeps up on her feels like it was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the sensation comes to a grinding halt when Harry backs away from Y/N. Her head shoots up, and finds him leaning over her body, wearing boyish half-smile that is now glimmering with her juices.

Wrapping one arm around her waist and the other one under her legs, he picks her up bridal style. She holds onto his shoulders, burying her face into his neck as he carried her to his bedroom. When she begins unbuttoning his shirt, he throws her on his bed. She lets out a soft yelp, bouncing onto the bed.

"So greedy..." Harry tuts in disapproval, but Y/N doesn't quite care. She wants him, bad, and now that she's had a preview of what's to come she doesn't want to wait any longer. She needs him and she needs that orgasm.

She pulls him closer by his pants and starts to unbuckle his belt. "You're taking too long."

Y/N is about halfway done when Harry's firm hand wraps around her neck and pulls her closer to his face. Inching down, he growls: "You'll take what I give you."

"Then give me something." She spits back, and Harry's eyes turn five shades darker at her invitation to a challenge. He slowly leans back, Y/N watching his every movement in anticipation.

"On your stomach."

Y/N stomach swirls at the command, and she obeys as quick as she can. It stays silent for a little bit, and she awaits his further actions eagerly.

"Hands behind your back."

Again, she does what he says. Y/N doesn't dare to turn her head as she hears Harry walking around his room. When she feels a silky material around her wrists, she knows enough. He's tying her up.

Knowing better than to do otherwise, Y/N keeps her mouth shuts as Harry makes an impenetrable knot with his tie. She moves her wrists, assessing how tight it really is, and gets interrupted by a punishing slap on her ass. The sting remains for a couple of seconds, and she is sure there is now a red print the size of Harry's hand on her right cheek.

"Ass up." He barks out his final order, no doubt smirking as she changes her position, slightly struggling now that her arms are of no use.

Y/N bites her lip in anticipation when Harry's hand grabs onto her hips, steadying himself behind her. She slightly flinches forward when the tip of his cock teases her entrance, and attempts to speed up the process by leaning backwards a bit. She's rewarded with another slap on her ass.

But then Harry finally sinks in, and that dreadful itch that plagued Y/N for such a long time is finally scratched, over and over again as he begins to pound into her with long, slow strokes.

"Fucking hell..." Harry murmurs, his cock suctioning into Y/N's tight, clenching pussy. He is so big, and it bruises her in all the right ways.

"Oh baby... thaaat's it." He groans when Y/N begins to bounce back on his cock, aiming to get it even deeper inside of her. She is ruthless in her movements, groaning at the overwhelming sensations. When Harry gropes her ass— and his nails bite into her skin—she loses control.

Burying her face into the mattress, Y/N screams as she reaches her peak. The sound of Harry's moans at her pussy convulsing around his cock only strengthens her orgasm. Her mind goes entirely blank as the shattering release ripples through her like an earthquake. The only thing she can think of is Harry's name, and it's the only thing she cries out as the dizzying explosion settles all over her body.

"You really are desperate, aren't you?" Harry sneers as he pulls his cock out of Y/N, letting go of her hips. She nearly falls over, her tied up hands making it difficult to catch herself. This orgasm was so intense, she could feel the three years of pent up tension as it washed over her. Her cheeks are burning red and her teary eyes makes her vision somewhat blurry.

Y/N is thrown off when Harry suddenly turns her around and she finds herself lying on her back. The way he towers over her would have been intimidating had it not been extremely hot.

"Came on my cock so fast..." he mumbles cockily, corner of his mouth pulled up like the arrogant bastard he is. "Such a slut for it."

Y/N wants to give him some snappy comeback, but her brain is still fried from the orgasm and she's always liked to be degraded in bed, so she decides to only glare at Harry while he speaks. He catches it, and his grin only widens.

"You know it's true, baby." He tells her, bringing your legs over each of his shoulders. That deviant smirk is the last thing Y/N sees before her eyes roll into the back of her head at the feeling of Harry's cock stretching her out again.

He leans forward, almost folding her in two, and reaches deeper. He stays there for a few seconds—as if he is catching his breath—then slowly backs out of her before slamming right back in. Y/N lets out a screech that, if it hadn't been for the desperation laced in its tone, would've sounded like someone was trying to murder her.

Trying to keep her own moans at a minimum, Y/N closes her eyes and listens to the harsh slaps of Harry's skin against hers, and the groans that escape his mouth with each thrust. The strength behind each movement makes her clench around Harry, who in turn hisses her name as if it were a curse word. It only causes her to clench more. 

"Fuck, such a pretty little whore." Harry praises as he drives into her. Y/N can only whine, her tits bouncing uncontrollably at the impact of his motions. She must look fucking helpless. Opening her eyes, she catches the way Harry looks at her; like she's a dream. Like she's his dream.

"My pretty little whore." He growls, leaning back and holding one of her legs with his arm while the other reaches for her breasts.

"Yes..." Y/N breathes as he begins squeezing her breasts, getting lost in the sensations of him. Somehow it feels like Harry is everywhere. As if he has latched onto a part of her soul and she feels him coming to claim that every time his cock sinks into her.

"Such a tight fucking fit." He groans, taking her nipple between his fingers. "You should see how perfectly your pussy sucks in every inch of my cock..."

Y/N bites her lip as Harry talks, trying not too get too overwhelmed by the filthy things he's telling her as he plunges in and out of her. Her eyes catch the flex of his muscles that occur with every thrust, and she wonders how she got a man so perfect to fuck her stupid like this.

"Should record it... make a little video for just the two of us. What do you think?"

Oh my god.

"Don't you want to see how perfect we fit together?" He taunts, thrusting his hips harsher than before, hitting a spot that had been untouched for quite a while now. Y/N's face scrunches up.

"F—fuck! Yes, yes..." She responds when Harry stills inside of her to await an answer. He chuckles at the apparent hurry in her voice and reaches for—what Y/N assumes to be—his phone, on the bed. His motions are slow and soft, determined to keep Y/N satisfied at least a bit while he logs into his phone and searches for the camera app. She notices the start of his recording by the sudden change of pace and force of his movements.

His camera is pointed right at her pussy as he begins thrusting deep inside of her, and Y/N screams out Harry's name. The concentration on his face as he captures how she takes him proves too much to bear, and she shuts her eyes tightly, head flopping to the side.

She can hear his ragged breathing over all the other sounds that their bodies are making. The small grunts he makes in an effort not to moan too loudly is all she can focus on, and the tension in her belly grows exponentially with each vibrations of his voice that reaches her ears.

Harry slows his pace, putting more emphasis on the impact of his moves. It allows him to bring his free hand down to touch Y/N's clit. Her legs begin to shake the second he does.

"Are you gonna come again for me? I'm so close, baby. I can tell you are too." The softness in the delivery of his words have Y/N's ovaries rattle. She can only nod, a whine that was an attempt at a 'yes' falling from her rosy lips. Harry grins, his eyes flicking from his phone to her face. Everything feels so hazy, much like a daydream.

"Please don't stop." She squeals in such a high pitch that surprises even herself. Y/N had no idea she could go that high. Harry's bringing out an entirely new side of her.

"I'll never stop, baby." Harry rasps, pressing down on her clit in such a way that Y/N becomes cross-eyed for a second. Her nails grip into the bedsheets, the second release rippling through her like a hurricane. She never quite understood the word bliss, until now. This must be it; this feeling of... pure ecstasy.

Like a blank canvas splattered on with all the bright colors that exist in the world; fresh and exciting and psychedelic in a way. Impossible to define yet such a specific feeling. Y/N let all of it tingle from her head down to her toes, wanting to remember it forever.

The continuous pounding Y/N through her orgasm comes to a grinding halt when Harry reaches his own, pulling out just in time for his sperm to coat her puffy clit and swollen tits. His camera is focused on her frame, recording every spurt that paints her. She's the canvas, he's the colors, Y/N realizes. Harry is her definition of bliss.

The words shared between the two are scarce as Harry unties Y/N's hands, picks her up and carries her to the bathroom to clean her up. But the smiles on their faces says enough, both knowing what they feel is rare, and beautiful. Y/N assesses Harry's face, concluding that the soft edges of it makes him look like a proper angel.

When he's dressed her in one of his shirts, he takes her back to the bedroom, where he pulls her against his frame. Y/N wraps one leg around his torso, hugging him from the side with her head buried into his neck. The way his chest rises and lowers fills her with pure ease, and she leaves a few soft kisses in his neck as a silent thank you. Harry only hums in satisfaction, his arm only tightening around you, as if he's afraid you might let go.

"I'm never gonna let you go now." You tell him before you can even fully comprehend your words. Your heart starts racing, afraid that might've been too soon to say.

"Promise?"

Your racing heart is now melting as you turn your head and see Harry holding up his pinky. You are quick to interlock it with your own.

"Promise." You say with a smile.

General taglist: @mema10

[gojoest]

curiosity (part 2) — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns, childhood best friends to lovers, college, no curse au, once again mention of ex gfs (one of them makes a brief appearance), pining, reader wears boy shorts, reader is a virgin (no virginity loss), so is satoru lol, mutual masturbation (handjobs + fingering), he cums on your belly (accidentally), pussyjob, first kiss, kind of proofread (sry if tenses are messed up), wc: 5.3k, dividers by @/cafekitsune 

this takes place the morning after the handjob you gave satoru and is basically a long ramble about two childhood best friends exploring each other’s bodies (nowhere near in moderation) but finding it difficult to redefine their bond. 

part 1

a/n: i didn’t think i would get around to writing a continuation but here we are... i fear there will be a part 3 as well in the future :’) i hope you enjoy! <3 

Last night Satoru and you slept together, in one bed, for the first time in years. 

Sure, it wasn’t just sleeping like you initially (and very confidently) suggested. Curiosity got the better of you after he, although not intentionally, showed you a side to him you had never seen before. And so, you got a bit handsy. 

Satoru stopped sharing a bed with you during sleepovers sometime early into high school. ‘You always hog the blanket’, ‘You toss and turn a lot’, ‘You breathe too loud’, ‘It’s too hot’... — is what he would say, and you didn’t think much of it. Shrugging it off as him being a rude idiot, trying to make you look bad. 

There was no way he’d actually tell you that he had started popping frequent boners around you, courtesy of puberty along with these unrequited feelings he started harboring for you the day you moved into his neighborhood at the age of four. 

It was embarrassing. He couldn’t possibly come clean to you — you were best friends. What if you came to hate him? What if you started avoiding him? 

He spent his high school years trying to get over you. He started dating around. But he never felt the same way with any of the other girls, a clear sign of which was his actions and the lack of dedication toward them. He’d often forget about promised dates or picking them up after school to walk home together because he was too busy following you around. Helplessly. Hopelessly. He couldn’t just leave you on your own even for a second, the thought of seeing another dude hanging around you would scare the shit out of him. Trying to let go yet strongly clinging to you. You didn’t need to like him back as long as you didn’t like anyone else either. Just stay by his side. 

And now, college isn’t any different. 

Well, it wasn’t. Until last night. 

Satoru couldn’t sleep after what happened while you dozed off quickly, as if the events that took place were nothing out of the ordinary. You seemed oddly comfortable which, truth be told, rose concern in him. 

He had a lot of questions. 

Do you like him? Weren’t you supposed to be at least a bit nervous if you did? Or were you simply so curious about these stuff that anyone would’ve been fine, it just happened to be him? He’s glad it was him. But what will happen with you two now? Will things be awkward? Can you go back to how you used to be? What is he supposed to say to you once you open your eyes? Will you start avoiding him? Should he pretend like nothing happened? 

“Shit, I fucked up”, he whispers, thumbing his forehead like he’s trying to get rid of a headache that isn’t even there. 

Please don’t avoid me, he thinks as his gaze shifts to you, still sleeping soundly. 

You were drooling on the pillow in your sleep. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were crusty, the dried residue sitting in the inner corners of them. The entire blanket was on your side too, covering only you while he was out in the open, his feet cold.  

What’s so good about you anyway?, he thought for a good minute. A soft smile creeping in on his lips. He couldn’t come up with a single thing that wasn't. 

“Mff...”, you let out a drowsy yawn and your eyes flutter open. Rolling on your back, you stretch your arms up and turn your head to look at Satoru. “Mowniiin’ ”, you drag out through another yawn. 

Satoru’s heartrate picks up. Here comes the moment he’s been dreading — facing the consequences. “Hey”, he greets back, a little bit dull in order to mask his nervousness as he acts out in his head all the different possibilities and the plausible end of your friendship. 

“You don’t have a boner again, do you?”, you ask bluntly, unaware of the sweat and blood he’d been shedding in an internal battle up until now, filled with fear that today might be the day he loses it all. 

“Really now?”, he gives you a look. Your crudeness is astounding him but in a way it also lessens the worry in his chest. “You’re really going to ask me that?” 

“...do you?”, you turn on your side again, a glint of amusement in your expression. 

“You know I am. Don’t you see it yourself?”, he clicks his tongue. 

You snicker to yourself. Of course you do. After all, the blanket was wrapped around you only while he laid exposed next to you with no layer to cover the bulge in his shorts. 

“Morning wood?”, you look at it. “Or is it because of me again?” 

“Stop assuming things, it’s morning wood”, he states point-blank. “It’s always like this when I wake up”, which was a lie. It didn’t always happen, or at least it wasn’t this insistent. 

“Hmm”, you nod. “Maybe you’re not cumming enough?” 

“That’s not how it works”, he sighs. “And this is definitely not something I’ve ever expected to hear from you” 

“Hmm”, you nod again. Peeking at him mischievously. “Can I—” 

“No.” 

“But—” 

“Cut it out, will you? What’s gotten into you ever since last night? Asking to touch me and what not?”, he snaps, frustrated.  

“But you let me” 

“Men can’t say no to that when they’re about to bust”, he lies, kind of. “But what the hell is wrong with you?” He thinks it’s so unfair to test him like this when he’s the only one with feelings. It is quite cruel of you. 

“I don’t know”, you shrug, a guilty pout on your mouth. Satoru never raises his voice at you unless something is really bugging him. “I’m not sure myself, but I liked it, what happened last night... I enjoyed it”, you quietly admit. 

“You did?”, his voice goes back to normal, but this time it’s his eyes that snap wide. A slight sense of hope creeps in inside his heart now. Maybe this little slip-up could kick start something, he starts to think. 

You nod. “Didn’t you like it too?” 

“...I did”, his face heats up and he covers it with a hand. The essence of the conversation and the fact you liked touching him made his cock even harder. It wasn’t just a simple morning wood at this point. 

“I want to do it again”, you tell him. “But do you?” 

“You ask me stuff like this when I am horny and expect me to turn you down?” He slowly slides his hand down his face, stopping it right over his mouth and cupping it into his palm. “Are you sure?”, his voice muffled. 

You shake your head affirmatively, with zero hesitation. “Can you touch me too? I got really wet last night while jerking you off... Your struggling face and the sounds you made were really...sexy. I wanted to cum too”, a tint of embarrassment in your tone now that you were saying this out loud. 

Your abrupt and not at all anticipated confession had Satoru almost chocking on his own saliva. Due to shock, it went down the wrong pipe when swallowing, leading him to cough profusely. “I am starting to think that you’re plotting to kill me one of these days” 

“It’s because you told me to come to you if I ever get curious about other things” 

“I clearly did not mean murder” 

You chuckle, and slowly peel the covers off you, throwing them out of the way and kicking them behind you. The shirt you’re wearing rolled up, exposing the boy shorts on your lower half and a damp spot visibly staining them on the front. 

“You're wet", Satoru points out, surprise and smugness mixed in his expression.  

“I thought you didn’t like to state the obvious”, you huff, rushing to fix yourself, but he reaches for your hand and stops you in your tracks.  

“Is it because of me?”, he looks at you with a glint of hope, giving you a taste of your own medicine, while guiding your touch toward his crotch. His other hand pulling his shorts and boxers down, just enough to take his cock out and press your hand on it — feeling less awkward and a little bit more confident about this now that he sees clear indications of your arousal. 

Sure, you touched him last night, but you didn’t see him... It all happened under the covers, so this was a first. He was big, both lengthy and girthy. Veiny too. Precum slicked the tip of his cock. The head was pink while the rest — a lighter shade but still a bit darker than his complexion. You didn’t think of it as pretty, yet it was stirring weird, unknown emotions and desires in you. 

“...yeah, ‘cause of you... I think”, you bury your face in the pillow, shying away, but at the same time you shamelessly wrap your hand around his length, giving it a slow first stroke, causing his breath to rasp in his chest. The needy little pant he let out the second you made contact with him urged you to rub your thighs together, the tension in your lower half growing heavier. 

Now with your roles somehow reversed, you realize how embarrassed he must’ve been last night... 

“Can I?”, he swallows nervously. His hand, slightly shaking, held out in front of your clothed pussy, waiting for your verbal permission before he goes any further.  

“Go ahead, I was the one who asked in the first place”, you reassure. 

Just like he did for you, you help your shorts down for him and place his hand between your folds. “But—”, you pause, timidly flinching at the foreign touch. “Don’t push your fingers very deep, I— well, you know...” 

He smiles. “I know, don’t worry”  

He was aware that you never had your first time. Neither did he, which you would probably never guess. 

Despite his rich and lengthy dating history, Satoru never went that far with any of his girlfriends. Not that the opportunity was never present — he had the looks and he had the charm so naturally they would throw themselves at him quite often. But he simply never desired them enough to even pop a boner. Well, sure it happened a few times here and there and only because some of them resembled you way too much. 

At the end of the day, his dick and his mind were oddly connected. And his mind, it was still stuck on you. Perhaps, deep down, he always hoped that one day you’d be his first. 

Just like last night, you were laid on your sides again, but this time both of you had your hands in each other’s pants. Your faces so close you were touching foreheads and breathing into your mouths. Not kissing, just breathing and exchanging pants and lewd moans as you worked your hands through the pleasure of the other, reveling in the sounds you each made.  

"Is this, um, okay... like this?”, he breathily asks, but what he truly means is ‘Am I doing this right?’, while he’s got his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles, and two of his fingers — index and middle — carefully gliding over your inner lips. 

You hum, biting your lip in an attempt to swallow the obscenity threatening to roll out of your tongue. Your mind was slowly going blank. “I-it f-feels real-ly g-good”, you manage through multiple pants. “Too g-good", you add, your grip letting loose around him, slowing down the strokes, the more he teased your folds. But, his free hand grabs yours, squeezing you back around him while he starts to buck his hips into your fist — a subtle reminder to maintain your ministrations, to not forget about him. 

You huff at his actions, but it’s only fair — you acknowledge.  

He must have quite the experience, you think. This thought a bit bothering you on itself, that he’s had his hand down other girls’ pants before, maybe his cock too, so he’s able to multitask like this... While this is a first for you. Unsure why, you feel like slapping him the more you think about it, picturing him with other girls makes you oddly jealous, but his fingers ease you back into pleasure. You’ll get mad at him later, you think. 

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?”, he nuzzles his nose against yours — since both of his hands were busy now, this was the only way of asking you to look at him. 

He wanted to see your eyes and confirm for himself that you were indeed alright, that he was really doing this right because he’s never done it before, only seen it in porn. He was afraid that he’d get too distracted and hurt you unintentionally. You felt so good against his fingers that it was enough to make him lose control. All the wet dreams he’s had in the past can’t compare. He already had a lewd depiction of you in his mind that he used to jerk off to — about the way you’d look and feel down there, about the noises you’d make, about the ways your face would contort with fervor... But he realizes now that he was too frivolous and lacking in imagination. The real you beats it all. 

You look at him, your brows slightly lifted, lips closed but twitching in betrayal, threatening to let out the loud moan building in your throat. His fingers scarcely prodding in only weakening your resolve. 

“Let it out”, he speaks to you softly. “Don’t hold it back”, again with that sweet, sweet voice. 

"Shit, you’re so foul when you use that kind of voice”, you audibly gasp, and then let it all out.  

He chuckles. 

His pace quicker now, greedily trying to drag more moans out of you. His entire palm, squished between your legs, now covering your pussy, rubbing harder against your folds with his middle finger slightly curled so the tip of it darts inside you with every movement. Not too deep, just enough to not break your hymen. It was driving you insane and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You’re certain you have never been this loud in your entire life. And you really wanted to slap him again because you were the only mess right now, your urge going stronger after witnessing that cheeky expression on his face, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, too focused to make you cum — maybe he was paying you back for last night. 

But alas, you couldn’t do anything about it. You lost control, completely as he hit just the right places and brought you overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure. 

“Did it feel good?”, Satoru curiously peeks at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“Yes”, you heave. His hand was still there, fingers fumbling with your folds, hence why the tremors washing through your body took longer to quiet down. “Very”, you add. 

“Will you help me finish too?” 

You nod, fixing your loose grip around his cock but moving it in a quite relaxed manner, slowly. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?”, he huffs. 

“No. What’s the rush?” 

“We have classes” 

“We’re already late” 

You squeeze, your strokes now steadier — not faster, but heavier — as you drag your hand up and down, earning a gratifying groan out of him. “We can skip altogether”  

“And?”, he pants, with eyes half-lidded he looks at you. Are you going to suggest what he’s thinking about too? 

“We can stay like this for a bit” — you gather your pace. “Wash up” — accelerating it more after the pause. “Have breakfast” — and some more. “And do this all over again” — and... 

Satoru opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moans low and throatily as his orgasm starts to build up. 

Was it the way you moved your hand or what you said that made him crumble so fast, he was not so sure. But it was quite the intense thing. He bucked his hips a little until every bit of drop was out, and he did so in a way that made you clench. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, nose scrunched up while he bit his lower lip, his hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he thrusted into your fist... It was way too of an arousing sight. 

He made a huge mess too. His cum sprayed all over your belly, uncontrollably. Your hand and fingers coated in it too. 

“Shit— I didn’t mean to”, he panics, jolting and rushing to grab some tissues from the nightstand, but you stop him. 

“It's okay”, you reassure him. “I think I like it”, you confess. “Next time you can cum on me intentionally” 

“There is really something wrong with your head, we should go get you checked out”, he mocks, but he hides his face in the pillow to conceal the smile stretching on his lips along with the already existing blush on his cheeks. Next time, huh?  

You stayed in for the day. Just as you suggested, you lingered in bed for a little longer, bickering back and forth, which put Satoru at ease. He was sick worried, but things were still the same between you two. Not quite as they used to be, considering last night and this morning, but you were still you. There was no tension, nor any awkwardness in the air. 

You washed up together over the bathroom sink, bumping hips as you brushed your teeth. 

He always kept a spare toothbrush for you for when you’d stay the night. He diligently changed it with a new one every now and then. Although you didn’t have any clothes over at his dorm room, he gave you his while complaining how thoughtless you were for not bringing spare clothing with you, only causing him more trouble with piling up more laundry. But he liked it, secretly. His t-shirts looked good on you, like you were his girlfriend. He didn’t have any clothes back at your room either, at first. There was no way yours would ever fit him, so he brought some and left them there. You always washed them with your clothes and they smelled like the detergent you’d always use. It made him feel like he was your boyfriend. 

Later, you had breakfast, and after that — another session of exploring your bodies. Again, you only used your hands. He sat you on the table and fingered you while you stroked his cock. 

You played some games, read manga, took a nap, ate lunch, and then you did it again. 

And again, after dinner. 

Then some more before you went to bed. 

You never kissed though, not yet. As if the kiss itself meant something entirely different in the light of what you were doing, something more intimate than masturbating each other. 

Day two and three were no different, you stayed locked in and repeated. You ate, you fucked each other with your hands, and you slept. 

Nothing changed on the fourth either, only that you ran out of food but ordered takeout. 

“Can you make it a bit spicy?”, Satoru spoke on the phone to a nearby restaurant he’d frequently order from. So frequently in fact that they knew his order by heart, and asking for the dish to be spicy was unusual of him.  

“Huh? You always make we don’t put any spice in your food? Are you sure?”, the takeout clerk gasped from the other side of the line. 

Scratching the back of his head, Satoru looked around to see if you were still in the bathroom before he spoke. “Yeah, I know. But, um— my girlfriend likes it”, he said, his face heating up with a red hue. 

You weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you made an attempt to redefine your relationship, and he was too afraid to make the first step. What if you were simply acting out this way because you were indeed just curious?  

Either way, he wanted to say it. To say that you were his girlfriend. And it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. People would often time confuse you for a couple, and he’d never flat out deny it. You never knew about this though, it always happened behind your back. Either his friends being too nosy, or an old lady on the street telling him how good you looked together after you ran off to pet a stray cat. 

On the fifth day, some friends got a bit worried. You were gone for almost an entire week, skipping classes, so that was a given. 

suguru: wtf bro  suguru: u alive? 

satoru: yeah  satoru: more than ever 

suguru: huh 

satoru: i might have a shot with her  satoru: i'll tell u later 

suguru: with who? 

satoru: ur mom i've been pining over since i was four  satoru: be fr now  

suguru: wait  suguru: HER her??????????? 

satoru: yeah HER her 

suguru: wow it's happening? 

satoru: idk  satoru: ...kinda 

suguru: good luck bro  suguru: if you fuck it up i'll try my chance with her  suguru: so make sure u do ur best LOL 

satoru: i will beat u up and block u 

Naturally, it started to feel less awkward the more you did it. ‘Are you hard?’ or ‘Are you wet?’ being the initiating lines you were both dying to hear now, knowing well what they’d lead to. The answer was always ‘yes’, there was no denying that you were both hard and wet around each other for the most part. 

At some point you began skipping the questions, just letting your hands roam and find out. Consent was always silently present. 

Even when you weren’t being naughty with each other, it was different. You had definitely started seeing Satoru in a new light, which scared you a little bit. The way you looked at him, and the way you caught him looking at you — it wasn’t the same as it had been. There was more to it. 

On the sixth day, you tried something different.  

“My hands are tired”, you complain. 

“Let’s try something different”, Satoru proposes. 

He lies on his back, holding his cock flat against his stomach. “Hop on it” 

“What—”, your eyes pop out in shock. “I’m not ready for that, yet”, you squirm, holding your face in your palms. You were curious about intercourse, of course, but you were also scared. All the forums you scrolled through had a different take on it — some netizens said the first time was painful while others claimed they only felt a slight discomfort but nothing more. Many mentioned bleeding too. You didn’t know which category you’d fall into. And as much as you wanted it, the idea of putting Satoru’s cock inside you was quite intimidating. He was big. Will it even fit?  

Satoru chuckles. “I don’t mean that — just straddle me, sit yourself right on top of it and rock your hips back and forth” He points at his cock, “See, I am holding it down for you so it won’t enter you. You’ll just hump against the length of it and nothing more. It’ll feel good, I promise” 

You peek at him from between your fingers. “Okay”, you timidly agree. 

It was good, but short-lived. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to finish in this position because Satoru came too soon and too hard, his entire body shivering continuously. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he proposed it but having your warmth and your slick on his cock directly from the source messed him up. It took him every ounce of restraint not to just slide it in and have his way with you. 

On the seventh day, after all the things you’d done, you finally shared your first kiss.  

It was nothing nearly romantic like it was in the books and in the movies. In fact, it kind of happened out of spite. 

It was around lunchtime. You both felt like eating pizza today, and so you ordered. In the meantime, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower. 

Satoru wanted to join you too, but you kicked him out, telling him to wait for the delivery guy. With a tail between his legs and a hangdog face he crawled back on the bed, huffing and puffing loudly so you could hear him and maybe pity him enough to invite him back... 

His brilliant performance of a sad puppy was interrupted by a knock on the door. This was quick, he thought, and jumped out of the bed, thrilled — he could pay for the food and sneak in to play with you... 

He quickly tossed on a shirt and put on some shorts on the way to get the door. 

It was not the food. 

It was his ex, standing on his doorstep with her arms crossed over her waist, eyeing him demandingly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re so heartbroken over our breakup that you would lock yourself in your room and skip classes for an entire week?”, she scoffs. 

“Did you forget who broke up with who?”, Satoru snorts. 

For sure, she did not. Satoru did it quite cruelly, over text after ghosting her for three days. It was not his proudest moment but he didn’t care enough to feel guilty over it.  

And she was fully aware of it too. But still, she liked him a lot, in fact she liked him ever since orientation and it took her an entire year to work her way to him. She was desperate. 

She sighs deeply, dropping the attitude now. “You never replied to my messages” 

“Didn’t see” 

“You did, but you left me on seen” 

“Must’ve forgotten to answer” 

His answers were short and dry. The timing was simply bad, and he wanted her out of here before you came out of the shower, concerned that her being here would create a misunderstanding in your head. 

“Look, I am sorry I said all those stuff about your friend. But it bothered me, okay? You treated her more like a girlfriend than you did me, your actual girlfriend... I was constantly under the impression that—”, before she could finish a third voice cut her off. 

“’Toru”, you yell from behind him. “Is it the food?” 

Your hair damp, a towel wrapped around your body, you saunter over to the door from behind him to peek, but your feet freeze in place. 

Oh? That girl... his ex. 

You woke up happy this morning, in fact you woke up happy every morning for the past seven days but now your mood was foul all of a sudden. That same odd feeling you’d get whenever you thought of Satoru with another girl creeped in in your chest. While you brushed it off easily in the past, you couldn’t quite do so now. The irritation grew more insistent. Your demons were threatening to act up. 

“...there was something going on between you”, the girl finishes her sentence, then pauses to let out a short laugh and shake her head in disbelief before she continues. “I guess my hunch was right, huh?” 

You step a little closer, standing right next to Satoru. 

Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on came over you. Of course, you could read the room — she obviously came here to mend things up. And you were not happy about it. Not in the slightest. Was this annoying feeling tugging at your chest called jealousy? You didn’t have a reason to hate this girl, she did nothing to you. Yet... 

“Well, well. Aren’t you a smart one?” — you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth right now but you didn’t have it in you to stop.  

Utterly amused, Satoru stared at you. He was shocked, in a pleasingly new way. A semblance of an idiotic smile plastered on his lips while he did nothing to stop you. 

“Should I perhaps solidify your hunch with a proof so you stop running after someone else’s boyfriend?”, you glare at her. 

Standing on your toes, you clutch a handful of Satoru’s shirt with both hands, pulling him down to the level of your face for your lips to reach his, and kiss him. 

Helpless in the face of your lips laid against his, he lets out an audible gasp. The sound of it vibrating against your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thinks, but his eyes close anyway, melting into the softness of your lips. There was no tongue, just a long peck, and he couldn’t help but smile into it. 

Without breaking the kiss, you look at the girl from the corner of your eye, and you slam the door in her face. 

“Good riddance”, you murmur after pulling away from Satoru, and walk back inside. 

He never knew that a simple kiss like this could make him so dizzy that he would lose his balance and stumble. As if his feet got caught in something he involuntarily took a few sharp steps forward, putting his arms out to steady himself and avoid falling face down. 

“Hey”, he called out, slowly following behind you. 

“What’s her deal anyway?”, you keep going at it, still beyond irritated. “Didn’t you guys break up?” 

“Hey”, he speaks again, stepping closer. 

“And she's pestering you like this? The audacity...” 

“Hey—” 

“What!”, you yell, turning around to give him a scolding too because, knowing him, he probably didn’t end things with her in a manner that was polite and proper.  

...but he was right behind you, smiling at you affectionately with his eyes. It made your breath hitch, and your chest — feel a bit peculiar. 

“Hey”, he repeats again, softly. His hands squish your cheeks inside his palms and he slowly cranes his neck down. “Did you mean it?”, he asks through a whisper. 

You shift your gaze to the side, avoiding to look at him directly. “Did I mean what?”, you puff. 

“Calling me your boyfriend”, he tilts his head to the side, blocking your view and forcing you to look at him. 

“No... I was just saving your ass” — you try to break free to prevent the heat on your cheeks from warming the skin of his palms, from giving you away. But he’s holding you still. 

He leans in closer and whispers, “Would it be so bad if I was your boyfriend?” 

It was not a question as much it was a plea. Let me. 

“You’re a bit of a jerk sometimes, so maybe? I know for sure people will judge me for my poor taste” 

“Your mom won’t, she likes me”, he points out, proudly. 

“She likes you more than she likes me, her own daughter, so her opinion is invalid. In fact, she would tell you to go pick someone better”, you snort, and he laughs. She really did love him like her own son. After all, he grew up in her hands along with you. You spent day and night together, in and out of each other’s houses. 

“I am serious”, he gives a gentle squeeze around your face, an attempt to snap you out of the ongoing banter because he was desperate to know. You didn’t give him a proper answer, but you didn’t reject him either — there was still hope, he thought. “Would you hate it?” 

“...I don’t know”, you let out quietly, conflicted. 

“Should we try? Or are you only curious about my body?” 

“See? You’re kind of a jerk after all”, you pout. “Will things change... between us?” 

“Aren’t they already changing?”, he smiles. 

You hum, softly tugging at the hem of his shirt with both of your hands. "I don't want to lose my best friend if we screw this up” 

“Same”, he nuzzles his face closer. “That’s why, we won’t screw this up”, he quietly chants into you like a promise, drawing his lips to yours tenderly before either of you have the chance to panic any further about the implications of this change. 

[ggomos-maribat]

Double Lives

Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.

He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.

But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?

He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.

He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.

Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.

“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”

“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—

But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.

Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”

“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.

Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”

“You hit yourself?”

She nodded meekly.

Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.

He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”

She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.

“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”

The silence between them was thick.

“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”

“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”

She cursed in French under her breath.

“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”

She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.

He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.

But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.

***

One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.

“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.

“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”

“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”

Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.

His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”

“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”

“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”

Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.

“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”

He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.

The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.

Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.

Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”

Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”

“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”

“You could . . . tell him that?”

She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”

It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.

“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “

Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”

Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”

Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.

Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”

Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.

It ticked too many boxes.

He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.

“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.

“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”

Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.

Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”

“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.

He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”

“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”

Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.

“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”

“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”

“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”

“No . . .”

“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”

She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”

“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”

She tilted her head. “Huh?”

It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.

He was such an idiot.

“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”

Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.

He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”

He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.

He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.

“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”

Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.

"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.

"Leave us." He glared.

"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.

"Leave. Us."

Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.

"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."

"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."

***

Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.

Of course she was Ladybug.

Of course she was a hero.

So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.

Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.

“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.

(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)

And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.

“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.

Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.

“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.

“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”

“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.

“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.

“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”

“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.

“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.

Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”

“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.

Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.

“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.

“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.

“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.

“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”

“W---What?”

Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.

She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”

Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.

And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.

Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.

[certaimromance]

✮ Bittersweet Sixteen.

TASM! Peter Parker x Kindergarden teacher!reader

Summary: After weeks of not speaking, you need Peter to do you a favor and put his suit back on. But the last thing you expected was to find your heart beating for him again, just like in high school.

Words: 4,2k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. lack of communication. friends to lovers. pure fluff. first kiss yep. temporarily located years after the last movie, peter has already graduated from college and left the life of a superhero. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I have had this in my drafts since I started writing here (months ago) and it makes me very happy to be able to stop correcting it a thousand times and publish it.

Your office was your sanctuary. It was the only space in the entire school that offered a reprieve from the chaos—quiet, orderly, and a place where you could drink hot coffee in peace, without worrying about a child knocking it over. But today, everything about the space felt…off. Your desk, usually neat and meticulously arranged, was cluttered, a bag sitting on top that didn’t belong to you. The air was tense, charged with unspoken words. And most notably, you weren’t alone.

Peter Parker sat in the chair across from you, hunched over slightly as he fought with the too-snug sleeves of his old Spiderman suit. The blue and red fabric was wrinkled from years of disuse, clinging to him as though it, too, was reluctant to let go of the past. His hair was mussed from pulling the mask off earlier, and his expression was a mix of concentration and awkwardness as he avoided your gaze.

The last time you’d seen him was on your date—a surprisingly pleasant evening at a restaurant that had intimidated you at first with its crystal chandeliers and white tablecloths. You’d laughed more than you expected, found small moments of genuine connection beyond that of usual friendship, and left the night feeling a little lighter, a little more hopeful. It ended with a polite goodbye and a brief, somewhat hesitant hug. It made you think of the teenage girl you used to be, who had a crush on him back in high school. It might have been silly, but you felt butterflies, and you were sure he did too.

But then…nothing. No calls. No texts. You’d waited, your phone practically glued to your hand, each notification making your heart jump. Days turned into weeks, and the silence between you solidified, leaving you wondering if perhaps the connection had only been one-sided. Now, he had come to your work, yes—but not for you. At least, not in the way you’d once imagined.

It was all because one of your students was the biggest Spiderman fan you had ever met, and that was quite a lot for a kid who had practically lived more without the superhero in action than with him saving lives and walking between buildings. It was only a matter of time before you had a lightbulb moment.

“You know,” Peter said suddenly, his voice breaking the heavy quiet, “I don’t think this suit has seen daylight in years.” He tugged at the sleeve, grimacing when it resisted. “Either it shrank, or I grew. Both are bad options.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, a reluctant smile forming despite the tension. “It’s probably the suit. Lycra has a way of holding grudges if you don’t treat it right.”

Just like me, you thought. You still were trying to remind yourself that he was just there to surprise one of your students and that it wasn't about you or your friendship.

“Yeah,” he admitted, looking down at the suit. “It’s been a few years, at least. I’ve been busy…you know, at the lab.”

You stepped closer, reaching out instinctively to smooth the fabric along his shoulder. The action was small, but the proximity sent a wave of awareness through you. His shoulders were broader than you remembered—had he always carried himself with this quiet strength?

Damn, you had to concentrate. Really.

“Right,” you said softly, focusing on adjusting the suit. “The lab. I know…but you’re still good at the hero thing. Showing up, being there for people. That’s kind of the most important part, right?”

He looked up at you then, his brown eyes catching yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of saying something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he offered a lopsided smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, I couldn’t say no. Not to you.”

Your fingers paused on the cuff of his sleeve. The words were simple, but they landed heavily, stirring something in your chest that you weren’t quite ready to name. It was probably your heart exploding, just like when he would pass you in the hallways at school and accidentally brush your shoulder against his or when I smiled at you suddenly and said that you looked good. It was deja vu. A big one.

“You didn’t have to,” you replied, stepping back to create some distance. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d been too busy.” Just like how you were these weeks, not to call me.

“Too busy for Spiderman’s number one fan? That’d be a pretty lame excuse.” His attempt at humor was there, but his tone carried an undercurrent you couldn’t quite decipher—something apologetic, maybe even regretful.

You folded your arms, creating a barrier you hoped would steady you before talking. “Jamie’s going to lose his mind when he sees you,” you said, your tone deliberately light. “It’s the perfect birthday surprise.”

His face softened at the mention of your student, and he seemed genuinely grateful for the change in topic. “Jamie,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “You said he’s, what, five? Six?”

“He turned six today,” you corrected, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And completely obsessed with you—well, with Spiderman. He spends half his recess pretending to swing between buildings, and his favorite art project this year was a crayon drawing of you fighting a giant lizard. It’s hanging on the bulletin board outside the classroom if you want to see it.”

“Now I definitely have to see it,” Peter said, his grin returning. “Sounds like my toughest critic.”

“Hardly,” you replied, the warmth in your tone surprising even yourself. “He thinks you walk on water. You’re going to make his entire year just by walking into that classroom with his birthday cake.”

He shifted in his seat, his usual boyish charm dimming slightly as he looked at you. “You’re the one making this happen. You didn’t have to ask me to do this. It means a lot, you know. That you thought of me.”

The weight of his words settled between you, making your heart tighten. There was something in his tone—earnest, maybe even vulnerable—that made it hard to look away. You knew better than anyone how much the decision to give up the hero role had cost him, how many times you two had talked about whether this was his true purpose in life.

“Of course I thought of you,” you said softly, and then, more hesitantly, “I mean, you’re Spiderman. Who else was I going to call for this?”

Parker chuckled, but there was a note of self-deprecation in the sound. That was not an answer to be expected, no matter how obvious it was.

“Yeah. Spiderman. Right.” He hesitated, his fingers brushing against the edge of the mask sitting on your desk. “I just…I didn’t think you’d call me at all. After, you know...”

There it was. The thing neither of you had been brave enough to address until now. Why? Why? Why?

The words hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unspoken. You could feel the silence closing in, like the pause between breaths right before a storm breaks. His eyes—those warm, familiar chocolate eyes—seemed to be searching yours, as if waiting for some kind of answer, but you couldn’t quite find the words. He was your friend, your best friend, someone you could tell anything to. But now, nothing coherent can really come out of your mouth.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room almost unbearable. Your heart thudded against your ribs, and you knew you had to break the silence. But now wasn’t the time. Not in this place. Not like this.

“Let’s…let’s focus on Jamie, okay?” you blurted, your voice coming out sharper than you intended, almost a little too loud for the small space.

He blinked, clearly startled by the sudden shift, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.

“Right, Jamie,” Peter echoed, giving you a smile that was a little too tight, a little too cautious. He shifted, standing up from the chair, and the air around you seemed to settle just a little.

You cleared your throat, stepping back, your gaze flicking to the clock on your wall. “He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you walk through that door.”

He looked at you, his lips twitching at the corners, though the tension in his eyes didn’t fully fade. “You’re sure you don’t want me to do a big dramatic entrance? Swing through the window or something?”

You laughed, though it felt a little strained. “Let’s keep it simple, okay? We don’t want to traumatize any of my kids.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He moved towards the door, and for a second, you hesitated. He was still wearing the suit—his Spiderman suit, the one that had once made him a legend in your eyes. But now, as you stood there, a thought nagged at the back of your mind. The suit was a part of him, yes, but so was the mask. The mask was his identity, the thing that separated the hero from the man.

“Hey, wait,” you said, your voice softer than before, and he paused mid-step. You walked over to him, the sudden proximity almost overwhelming. The mask sat on your desk, waiting, like a silent question. Your heart raced as you picked it up, turning it in your hands for a moment, letting the weight of it settle. “You should probably put this on. You know, just to keep your identity safe. We don’t want anyone knowing who you really are, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, his voice lower now, almost distracted.

You swallowed hard, your hands suddenly trembling slightly as you moved closer to him. The space between you seemed impossibly small, and for a moment, neither of you moved, just standing there, suspended in this strange, fragile moment. You could feel the warmth of his body, the soft rhythm of his breath as he stood in front of you, and for the first time since he walked into your office, it felt like the distance between you had closed.

And for a moment, everything felt like it did in high school, when you were both teenagers trying to hide the secret and not to fail your subjects.

Gently, you reached up, lifting the mask toward his face. His eyes met yours, and for a fleeting moment, everything in the room stilled. You could feel the weight of his gaze. And in that moment, as you moved to place the mask over his face, your fingers brushed against his skin—a simple touch, but one that felt electric. His jaw tensed under your fingertips, his breath hitching slightly.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing, and carefully slid the mask into place. The action was small, but it felt monumental, the kind of quiet gesture that spoke volumes. It was intimate in a way you hadn’t expected, and as you adjusted the mask, making sure it was secure, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted again in your heart.

“Perfect,” you said softly.

Peter looked at you, now fully transformed into Spiderman, and despite the mask, there was something in his posture, in the way he stood, that was unmistakably him. “Thanks,” he said, his voice muffled through the fabric, though there was still a tenderness in his tone.

The sounds of children’s laughter and chatter grew louder as you moved toward the classroom, the vibrant energy of the moment standing in stark contrast to the quiet tension that had surrounded you both earlier. You stole a glance at Peter. Even in the suit, even behind the mask, you could feel his nervousness, a subtle hesitation in the way his shoulders tensed, the slight uncertainty in his step. It was as if he was still learning how to be this version of himself again, but the earnestness was unmistakable.

When you reached the door, you paused, turning to face him. “Ready?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying the weight of the moment.

“Born ready,” he replied, his smile audible even through the mask, though it was tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping in first to scan the room. The instant the door swung wide, the children’s eyes locked on you, their faces lighting up with excitement. Jamie, sitting at the small table with his friends, froze mid-conversation. His eyes widened, his face glowing with anticipation as he jumped to his feet.

“Miss! Is it time for the surprise?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.

“Not just yet,” you said, your lips curving into a conspiratorial smile. “But I think you’ll want to pay attention.”

And then, with a theatrical flair you hadn’t expected, Spiderman stepped through the doorway and the cobwebs appeared. The room erupted in gasps and squeals of delight as the kids leapt from their chairs, crowding around him with wide-eyed awe.

Jamie froze, his mouth hanging open as he clutched the edge of the table. “No way,” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. “It’s really him?”

Peter crouched down to Jamie’s level, his movements fluid and natural despite the years away from the suit. “Happy birthday, Jamie,” he said, extending a hand for a high-five. “Someone tell me you’re my biggest fan.”

A soft laugh bubbled in your chest at the mention. The kid hesitated, looking at you for confirmation, and then, with all the enthusiasm his tiny six-year-old body could muster, slapped his hand against Peter’s gloved one with the loudest, most joyful smack. “You’re real! You’re really real!”

The other children chattered excitedly, peppering Spiderman with questions about his powers and his adventures. He handled it all with practiced ease, weaving just enough humor into his answers to keep them laughing but still utterly convinced that he was, in fact, the superhero they adored.

As you watched him, standing back and taking it all in, a soft warmth spread through your chest. He wasn’t just good at this—he was great. His ease with the kids, the effortless way he connected with them, it was clear: he was a hero not only in costume but in every little action. The doubts that had plagued him, the years spent questioning if the mask was still a part of him, seemed so far away in that moment. He had it—the ability to inspire, to make people believe, to make them feel seen and important.

For the first time in weeks, you felt that flutter in your chest again—the one you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. It was hope, soft and steady, like a heartbeat you’d forgotten how to hear until now.

You stayed near the back of the classroom, content to let Peter soak up the adoration while you took a couple of pictures of it. But every now and then, he would catch your eye, and even through the mask, you could feel the gratitude radiating off him. It was a silent thank-you, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond between you, for pulling him into this moment, for giving him the chance to be this version of himself. You nodded, your lips curving into a small, affectionate smile.

When the excitement finally began to settle, the cake was brought out, and Jamie proudly showed Peter his crayon drawing—an adorable depiction of Spiderman battling a huge, ferocious lizard. He studied it for a moment before declaring with all the sincerity he could muster, “Museum-worthy,” making the kid’s face light up with pride. The joy in the room was palpable, and it was impossible to tell who was happier: the children, who were living out their dreams, or the superhero himself, who was finally realizing that, perhaps, there was still a place for him in this world.

Eventually, it was time for him to “swing” away, and after a round of hugs and high-fives, he disappeared down the hall, leaving a room full of awestruck children in his wake. You stayed behind, cleaning up the remnants of the party and basking in the lingering joy.

By the time you returned to your office and all the kids to their houses, the hallways were quieter, and the sound of little feet had faded. But when you stepped inside, there he was—Peter, still waiting for you, now back in his civilian clothes, the Spidey suit crumpled in one hand like a tired, old memory.

“Oh,” you said, a little startled. “I thought you’d already left.” I wish.

“I figured I’d stick around for a bit,” he said quietly, running a hand through his hair, still slightly ruffled from the mask. “I don’t exactly get to see kids this excited for me every day.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “You really made Jamie’s day. I’ve never seen him so starstruck. He’s going to be talking about this for his whole life.”

Peter chuckled, but it was a little strained. “It’s good to know I’m still that impressive,” he said, his tone light, though there was an underlying sadness that didn’t quite match the words. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve been in the game…you know, the hero thing.”

You just nodded. “You are good at it, you know.”

His smile was a little wistful as he tossed the suit onto the desk, his eyes following it for a moment before meeting yours again. “Yeah…but that’s not really what I came here to talk about.”

At his words, you felt a flicker of curiosity mixed with unease. You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “Oh? What did you want to talk about?” Please say you want to correct my bad posture when I took the pictures or something.

He shifted in his seat, his fingers nervously tapping against the desk. “Honestly…I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks,” Peter began, his voice quieter now, almost like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “About you…about us. And, well, I guess I just…I missed you.”

Oh, that.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in his words. For a moment, the room seemed to close in around you, your breath catching in your chest. He missed you? You hadn’t expected that.

Before you could respond, he went on, his words coming faster, like he couldn’t stop himself. “I know things have been weird since the date. And I didn’t…I didn’t want to just text you or call and make it feel like I was making things awkward. You know? So, I guess I just…waited for you, and I get the message.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and every conclusion you ever had was shattered.

“Wait,” you said, the realization dawning on you. “You were waiting for me to call?”

“Yeah. I mean…I thought maybe you were the one who needed space, and I didn’t want to rush things or make it weird. I didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for or didn’t want.”

Not ready? Don’t want? You literally had been wanting it since you were sixteen.

You blinked again, feeling a warm flush spread through you. “I…I thought you were the one avoiding it. I didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, so I didn’t reach out either.”

His eyes widened slightly as the words sunk in, and for a moment, there was just a long silence between you, filled with the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above. Then, finally, a soft laugh escaped him, and you couldn’t help but chuckle too, the tension easing slightly.

“I guess we were both just sitting here thinking the other person would make the first move,” Peter said with a grin, shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “This is ridiculous,” you said, your laughter soft but genuine. “We’ve been friends for years, and now we’re both too nervous to talk about it.”

He chuckled, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Yeah. Seems like we’ve been pretty bad at this whole communicating thing.”

The laughter between you two died down, the room suddenly feeling warmer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the soft shuffle of Peter’s shoes against the floor. You felt a spark of something flicker within you—something long suppressed, a longing, an ache you hadn’t quite realized until now.

He shifted in his chair, a bit unsure of what to do next, his fingers absentmindedly brushing the fabric of his crumpled suit. His eyes met yours, and for a second, the weight of everything—your shared history, the unspoken words, and the lingering emotions—hung in the air like a delicate thread waiting to snap.

“I guess we should…try this again,” he murmured, his voice low and tentative. The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. “If you want.”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm, but this time it wasn’t from nerves. You stepped closer, closing the space between you, feeling the presence of him so close you could almost feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

“Yeah…let’s try again,” you whispered, almost to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear. “I want it.”

Peter stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was giving you time to change your mind. His hand reached out slightly, as if asking for permission, and you met him halfway, your fingers brushing against his. A spark of warmth shot through you, igniting a familiar flame.

He cupped your face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, as if memorizing every detail of your expression. Your breath caught, heart pounding, as you met his gaze—his brown eyes soft, but with that unmistakable spark of affection you had longed for.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured softly, his words both an affirmation and a confession. The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch in your chest. You smiled shyly, unsure how to respond but feeling the weight of his words settle deep within you.

Slowly, he leaned in, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. His lips brushed against yours lightly, just a whisper of a kiss, a hesitant touch that held more promise than any grand declaration. You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, feeling your body relax into the familiarity of him. His lips lingered against yours for a heartbeat before pulling back, as if checking in, unsure of how much was too much, too soon.

“I don’t want to rush anything,” he said, his voice a little shaky, as if unsure of how to navigate this new territory between you two. “I just want to take things slow, see where this goes…do it right.”

You nodded in agreement, your hands gently gripping his as you let the moment linger. “Yeah, me too. No need to rush.”

He stepped back slightly, looking at his watch with a sigh. “I should go,” he said, his smile a little sad. “I’ve got work, and you probably have things to do.”

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you understood. The moment, as sweet as it had been, couldn’t last forever.

“Yeah, I get it,” you said, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

He nodded, a warm smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yes, you definitely will.”

Peter took a step back toward the door, but before he could reach for the handle, he stopped, turning to face you once more. There was a hesitation in his eyes, a pull that seemed to tether him to you in that moment. Without a word, he crossed the room in a few strides, his hand reaching for you again, this time more urgent, more sure.

Before you could say anything, his lips were on yours again—this time, deeper, more insistent, as if he could no longer wait for you to make the first move. It was a kiss that spoke volumes—of all the missed chances, of the longing, of everything unspoken between you. It was both sweet and desperate, a promise and a question wrapped up in one.

You responded instantly, your hands finding his shoulders as you leaned into the kiss, feeling the heat of his body against yours. For a few moments, nothing else mattered but the rhythm of your kiss, the way his fingers brushed your hair back, and the warmth of his breath against your skin.

Finally, when the kiss broke, both of you stood there, breathing a little heavier than before, eyes locked in a silent exchange that said more than words ever could.

He ran a hand through his hair again, his expression a mix of longing and determination. “I’m not waiting anymore,” he said softly, as if to himself. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

You smiled, the weight of his confession making your heart flutter. “Then don’t wait,” you whispered back.

And with that, Peter leaned in one last time, pressing his lips to yours, not with hesitation or doubt, but with the certainty that whatever this was—whatever was between you two—was worth fighting for, even if you both weren't sixteen anymore.

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 1

I had this little idea. The meeting came to me in a dream, no word of lie. Classic little trope, I know. I'm hoping to work in some smuttier things down the line. Hope I do it justice and you like it 💕 Erring on the side of caution; probably not suitable for Ramadan

You'll be able to read the rest here eventually: Ding

~3.8k words

As she did the wind took her door not much, nor hard but enough to bump into the car beside her.

The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes, still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.

It was cold and rainy all day long. It made her want to curl up in a ball with a good book on her sofa and not get up for hours and hours. The kind of day where she wished she wasn’t an adult, and she was back home. Back when her dad would make her hot chocolate, they would watch old movies, and he would give insider information into all the hubbub that happened behind the scenes. How the actors interacted and when the props failed or something of that nature.

Her father was a great film critic. But he always said “even ‘bad’ movies have good.” She had seen tons of movies. Summers during school were filled with at least one movie a night. Sick days were made for marathoning series. When they weren’t watching movies, he was taking her to baseball games, teaching her how to cook—“the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, honey”—and making sure that she knew how to be spoiled by any man that deigned to enter her life. She was handy around the house and fiercely independent.

As much as she enjoyed cooking with her dad, baking was her real passion. She loved the science of baking: how butter affected cookies, temperature changed the consistency of cakes, and nothing made her happier than playing with baking powder and baking soda to change the rise of her pastries.

It led her to this spot. This little bakery. School for business and plenty of classes on cooking and baking. At the age of twenty-seven she was extremely lucky; for the last three years her business had been so successful. It was in local and state magazines about a hot spot for tourists and one of those shops that everyone just loved.

She wished her dad could see it but knew he would be proud of her regardless.

A strong gust of wind pulled her from her thoughts. There was a late-night closing report she needed to go over—a favor to her regular closer who needed to get home to her little baby. But really, A Pinch of Sprinkles was her baby and she loved to be in the little shop that smelled like the cupcakes she loved making.

She zipped her coat up, pulling her hood over her hair. It was hardly any further than a 40-yard dash to her little bakery door but in a steady rain like this, she thought not even her rubber boots would be enough to keep her dry for the short little sprint she would have in just a moment. She thought of her dad again, who would have run around to her door and held an umbrella over her head before getting out in the rain. With a deep, sad sigh, she braced herself, opened her door and reached for her umbrella and purse on the passenger seat.

As she did the wind took her door. It wasn't much, nor hard to create real havoc, but enough to bump into the car beside her. “Fuck,” she hissed getting out quickly, her belongings be damned her hair getting wet and stringy almost immediately. She slammed her door shut, turned to the car beside her, and made eye contact with the person in the driver’s seat. Her lips parted slightly, heart hammering in her chest. There was hardly anything more than a bit of a ding on the the stranger's car but the unmoving gaze that returned from the front seat intimidated her immensely.

The man rolled the window down, his deep green eyes still blank. “You’ll have t’pay for that,” his voice was low and gravelly.

It felt like thunder was inside her chest, the way her heart was thudding against her ribs. An intimidating man, his hair not quite buzzed off but not quite much more than an inch or two long, deep, soulful eyes. His gaze didn’t drop from hers. It was like he was having a staring contest.

“I... am... so sorry,” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to admit she was terrified. It wasn’t that she was terrified of men. But in a dark parking lot and someone who looked so intimidating... well it was a modern-day-female nightmare.

The man smiled and suddenly he was no longer intimidating. Dare she say, he was even cute. The left half of his mouth quirked up and he glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, tapped a quick rhythm on it, and turned back to her. “S’okay,” he shrugged, rolling the window back up. He stepped out into the rain in the same motion, rain not bothering him as it began to soak his hair and slid down his face. The man was gorgeous. A walking ad for raincoats and umbrellas. He meandered over to where she stood. Her heart still pounded now for an entirely new reason. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reached for the blemish on his car. “See, jus’ a ding,” he rubbed his fingers over the little indent a few times before turning back to meet her gaze again.

His grin was adorable.

The air came out of her in a whoosh loud enough to rival the one that took her door right into his car. “I’ll pay for it to be fixed,” she promised.

He chuckled. “S’fine, love,” he assured her. “S’jus’ a ding,” he repeated with a shrug.

By now she was drenched. It wasn’t a downpouring, but the steadiness of the raindrops won out. Without any regard to how she was stood still between the two cars—soaking the inside of her seat as well—he leaned in, grabbed her purse, umbrella and closed the door behind him. Honestly, it didn’t even cross her mind that he was going to rob her. That alone should have raised about ten alarm bells in her head. Instead, for whatever reason, she felt safe.

He handed her own bag to her. It felt so strange. Like she didn’t know what to do with it. He paid no mind to her uneasiness. Without any acknowledgment of their weird meeting and their even weirder interaction thus far, he opened the umbrella and held it over the pair of them to keep a little dryer—even though they were both already soaked.

“Let’s go,” he put a hand on her lower back to usher her out from between the cars.

Reality and her brain finally restarted in her head. “Excuse me? Go where?”

He shrugged. “Well... y’did ding m’car. Assumed y’could at least come with me.”

“Come with you where?” She repeated incredulously.

“Oh right, sorry. D’you have plans? A date?”

“Well...no...”

“Great,” he tiled his head in gesture toward their current path, the opposite direction of her bakery.

“Can you tell me where it is you want me to go?” But she was already following the gentle touch on her back to keep her moving in his current direction. She should have felt unsafe. This was unnatural. How could she not be scared?

He pointed at the municipal building—it was old and pretty. Pretty typical for a little tourist area. Lights caught the raindrops that fell to the ground that hung from ancient looking black iron sconces. Steps up to the main doors were cobblestone and probably brand new as they were replaced over the years. Back in the day it was probably home to many rousing mini-city debates. It was hard to imagine back then it would ever become the bustling little tourist center it was at present. “Y’ever been in?” He asked.

She shook her head. It was like he was a truth serum wrapped in a hot body. There was nothing to explain her reasoning to answering him. “Not since I was little. My dad took me to a magic show here.”

“Well, s’not quite as magical, but s’a fight tonight.”

“A fight?”

“Boxing.”

“Boxing?” She repeated.

“M’not trying t’be rude, are y’hard of hearing?”

“What? No,” she shook her head, confusion coloring her features. “Why?”

“Y’keep repeating everything I say,” his ever-present half-smile was mocking her.

She scowled at him, shook her head again, and halted them in the middle of the rainy sidewalk. “Please stop walking. I’m so confused,” she put her hands on her temples. Why was she even following him? She didn’t need to be with him right now. She could have walked the other direction just as easily and told him to take a hike.

“Mmm... I’d rather not, I’ve got t’get ready,” he explained inching further along the path with the umbrella in his hand still. “M’on the first card.”

“Let’s try this again,” she stood her ground. Deciding now that if he were a serial killer, it would be too late but at least she could have the satisfaction of trying. “I don’t know your name and contrary to my current actions I'm actually very wary of strangers. But I own the bakery right over there in the main square. I was going to run the closing report. I’ll wait there until your fight is over,” she suggested--where she at least had security cameras set up and would have proof of a stranger murdering her with a baking sheet. “You can come get my insurance info then,” she spun quickly away from him, and started back toward the direction of the bakery; he could keep the umbrella.

“Your bakery?” He asked, following her a few paces back.

“Yes. A Pinch of Sprinkles. It’s right over there,” she gestured to the main bustling little square.

“You own the bakery: A Pinch of Sprinkles?”

“Are you hard of hearing?”

He snorted at her and smirked once more. “Alright,” he sighed holding his hands up in surrender. “M’Harry. M’in a boxing match tonight. M’normally in there by now getting ready. But this really pretty girl dinged m’car,” his smile was so boyish for someone who scared the lights out of her only minutes before. “And y’did kind of promise t’come with me as payment,” he looked at her knowingly.

“I did not promise that,” her tone was defensive. “I said I would pay for the dent to be fixed.”

“I know y’did. S’very nice of you. S’not what I want. This is how I want you t’pay me.”

“By coming to watch your fight?”

He nodded eagerly. But she saw his eyes scanning her. He was still holding her umbrella while she continued to get soaked. Her dad would have a conniption at the sight of a stranger holding her umbrella and not keeping her dry. But it didn’t bother her. If anything, she kind of liked it if only because it gave her a chance to look at how adorable he was holding her flowery umbrella when she knew the embodiment of intimidation was going to punch someone at three-minute intervals.

Harry stepped closer, bringing her back under the umbrella. “Look... If y’really need t’go to your bakery, then no, of course m’not going t’stop you. But if it can wait, then s’how y’can repay me,” he shrugged. They were huddled close together under the umbrella. Her hair was a wet stringy mess. She knew very little about boxing. Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Rocky and The Eye of the Tiger. That was about the extent of her knowledge. Boxing wasn’t one of the major sports her dad imparted his wisdom about to her.

“You want me to go to your fight as payment for your car dent?”

“Are y’going t’jus’ keep saying the same thing as me but as a question all night?” She knew she was repeating herself again. She pursed her lips to refrain from asking another question. “C’mon, Cupcake... m’really starting t’run late here,” he pointed to his wrist with an imaginary watch.

Cupcake.

What was she getting herself into?

She took a deep breath trying to calm the bit of nerves. “I’m not really a go with the flow kind of girl. I have a lot of questions.”

He smiled sweetly. Nodded like he expected such an answer, like he knew her already. “M’sure you do,” he agreed. “But... I really need t’go in. Like right now. Louis is going t’kill me if I don’t appear in front of him four minutes ago. When the fight’s over, I’ll walk y’to A Pinch of Sprinkles. We’ll run y’closing report and I’ll answer every question y’have.”

It took every bit of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from repeating him again. We. “There’s also the whole... I don’t know you at all, thing,” she reminded him stepping out from the umbrella again. “Seems like a bad idea on my part.”

It was almost moot though. Even she heard the way her voice sounded like she was caving as she said it. He stepped closer again. “You’re right. S’good instincts that I admire y’have,” he held his phone out to her, the screen catching a few drops of rain. “S’my niece,” he told her of the baby on the lit screen. She was only a few months old based on the picture. “She’s got me wrapped around m’finger and she’s barely old enough t’even see me and know m’holding her. Least that’s what m’sister Gemma says,” he shrugged. The adoration, the love in his voice made her stomach flip. It was unbelievably adorable this scary man was in love with a little baby. His voice was so sweet, it made her feel at ease. “I grew up with Mum and Gemma,” he looked her squarely in the eye. “I know m’about t’go in there and punch another grown man, but m’not dangerous. Especially not towards a girl who parked in a dark parking lot who owns a bakery with a sprinkles pun," her heart softened. “I know y’have questions, Cupcake. But I really need t’go in there,” he was growing the slightest bit impatient. “Louis is gonna send Niall out looking for me and then m’screwed. I need y’decision either way.”

It was perhaps her dumbest idea ever. Even stupider than when she tried to make peanut butter cookies without peanut butter to make them allergy friendly. “Are you going to win?” She asked.

He chuckled. “Think so. Especially if you’re there as m’good luck charm," he winked.

When she thought about this in the future or when she ended up on a true crime TV episode, it would be this moment that thousands and millions of people would say "how could she be so stupid?"

But she started for the building ahead of him, anyway. He fell into step beside her holding the umbrella over her again. “Probably not a good idea to put stock into me when I just dented your car.”

“S’jus’ a ding, Cupcake,” he smiled. “Something t’remember y’by.”

She couldn’t believe how quick and flirtatious he was. He knew all the right things to say and wasn’t even the least bit nervous it seemed. When he went into the ring or something she would have to Google his name and see if she accidentally made a fool of herself talking to a professional boxer. “You’re something else.”

They entered the building from a back door guarded by a man who gave Harry a nod as he ushered the sweet girl inside. “You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?” A blonde man with an Irish accent asked, running his hand through his hair right as the guard at the door pulled the door shut from the outside. “I was just about to go see what happened this time,” he started back down the hall, deeper into the building. “He’s losing his mind,” he warned.

Harry shrugged. “Met a girl,” he smiled back at her. “She owns the bakery. She’s gonna be my good luck charm”

“Oh, you’re the reason for my freshman fifteen,” the blond man wiggled his eyebrows at her as he turned to her as well.

“Cupcake, this is Niall, he’ll keep an eye on you,” he assured her.

“Cupcake, hmm?” Niall chuckled. “Louis’ gonna kill you,” he skipped ahead of Harry. “Found him!”

“Harold you better have been held at gunpoint!” The shout was nearly hysterical as they approached the open room.

“He was just talking to Cupcake,” Niall was nearly giggling. Louis, she presumed, wasn’t the least bit amused. His face was hard. His blue eyes cold, his jaw as sharp as his words.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he snapped. “Get your fucking clothes on,” he ordered.

Harry rolled his eyes and winked in her direction. “Hold this for me?” He asked, handing her his phone. The picture of the little babe illuminated the screen and a message from Mum was previewed on the screen so she couldn’t help but read, “Good luck honey bunny!” With about ten four-leaf clover emojis and just as many hearts. It warmed her heart so much to see the message on this scary man’s phone. She had doubts now that he was going to murder her later. A murderer wouldn’t have a supportive mom like that, right? Or a picture of their niece as their phone background? “See y’in a bit, Cupcake,” he gave her arm a squeeze and leaned her umbrella beside the door leading into the next room.

Niall was sipping a beer from a clear cup. “Y’ready, Cupcake?”

She snorted, sticking his phone into her purse alongside hers and nodded. “Sure. M’gonna have a lot of questions.”

He laughed. “Well, I have a lot of questions for you,” he promised pushing a set of double doors and into a thrumming, crowded arena.

It was definitely not a magic show.

Blinking, Niall put a gentle hand on her back and leaned toward her ear so she could hear better. “How do you know Harry?”

“I don’t,” she shouted back to be heard over the crowd. There were people getting things set up, announcements being made, and the like. There were people cheering and she couldn’t believe how big the boxing ring looked. The only boxing ring she had ever seen was the one in Rocky. Moreover, the only thing she knew about that ring was that the audience in the movie was given a free chicken dinner for showing up to the arena and they dimmed the lights, so it looked like more people were there. “My car door hit his car.”

“You hit Clay?”

“Who’s Clay?”

“His car!”

“He named his car, Clay?”

“Like Cassius Clay?”

Again, she didn’t know much about boxing, but she realized immediately that Harry named his car after the greatest heavyweight boxer ever. Oh, Lord. What did you get yourself into? She thought to herself. “Er… yeah… I guess so.”

“And he didn’t...” Niall drifted off curiously. “Hmm,” it seemed he surmised something in his head but didn’t let her in on the secret. He gestured to a chair that was front and center of the corner of the ring for her to sit. He took the seat beside her and leaned close as she spoke to him again. “How do you know Harry?”

“We’ve been best friends since Uni,” he shrugged. “Been icing his bruises for years.”

She nodded. “I see. Are you recently graduated? You said freshmen fifteen?”

Niall laughed. It was contagious. Made her feel safe still. The whole last ten minutes were surreal. She really followed a stranger to a boxing match. She was sitting with his best friend asking questions about someone she hardly knew. “Just a joke, Cupcake. You are single handedly responsible for my recent weight gain since you moved into town. Well, you and that Irish soda bread you made last March. It tasted like home.”

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I was so nervous about it!”

Talking about sweet treats and breads and cupcakes was more her speed. “Oh, it was perfect, Cupcake. Rivaled my nan’s.”

Well, maybe Harry wasn’t so scary.

At least his friends were nice. Although... “Louis hates me, doesn’t he?” The thought of someone hating her, even though she didn't even know him made her sad.

Niall rolled his eyes. “No, he’s just so sick of Harry being late. Thinks because he’s undefeated on this circuit he can do whatever he wants.”

“Undefeated?” She was grateful Harry wasn’t there to hear her question repeating the same thing Niall said again.

“Not much of a boxer are you, Cupcake?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

He chuckled. “Harry’s very good. You’ll see.” Clearly. What did he need a good luck charm if he was already undefeated. She really needed to research him.

As if he heard his own name, he dropped into the seat across from her. It would be inside the ring between rounds but for now it allowed him to gaze at the pretty girl he met moments before. “Hi Cupcake,” his smile was sugary—and she knew sugar.

“Hi,” she murmured, willing her eyes to stay focused on his face and not his bare torso. A litany of tattoos painted his skin and a pair of vines dipped into the band of the shorts he wore. Everything was black. His shorts, his tattoos, his shoes, and his gloves. She could see tape going up half the length of his forearm keeping the bottom of his gloves in place.

“That’s a record for you getting ready. Must be your good luck charm,” Niall nudged her with his elbow. “Didn’t I tell you those soda breads were delicious?”

Harry kept his eyes on her and nodded. “Y’did.”

“Told you,” Niall assured her.

“Wouldn’t shut up ‘bout them,” Harry was unmoving, his body, his gaze. His phone was in her purse. He was looking at her like she was pretty, and she knew her makeup and hair was ruined by the rain. “M’a bigger fan of those raspberry filled cupcakes of yours,” he told her. “S’like heaven in a cupcake.”

“Harry, I swear to God!” Louis shouted.

Harry smiled ruefully, winked at her again and finally moved, heading back toward the sound of Louis’ voice. “Niall, don’t let her leave, yeah?”

Niall saluted him and she watched him leave again. She cleared her throat, turning in her seat toward the door, she exited to get to her ring-side seat. “Good luck, Harry,” she called, unsure if he would hear her over the building crowd.

Harry turned back right as he got to the door and winked again. “Thanks Cupcake,” he called back loud enough for everyone to hear that he was talking to her. Niall chuckled, shook his head, and put a friendly arm across the back of her chair.

He was kind enough to lean to her ear so that others wouldn’t hear the next thing he said because it made her blush and nearly melt to the floor right in front of Harry’s best friend and the very ring, he would be punching another grown man in just a few minutes. “Hope you like your boyfriends like your frosting, Cupcake. Because that man is already whipped for you.”

--

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[songbirdseung]

happy accidents / park jongseong

synopsis: maybe getting hit by a basketball wasn't so bad?

pairing: jay x reader

warnings: injuries?

wc: 1k

Your solo trip to the park did not go as expected when you felt a sudden pain in your back. Ignoring the fact that your drink fell from your hand and almost ruined the white maxi skirt you were wearing, you turned towards the direction you assumed the ball came from.

"I'm so sorry, my friend is a clumsy idiot," a voice called out.

"Jake, shut up!" another male voice responded before facing you and apologizing for hitting you. "Basketball isn't really my thing, I'm more into guitars."

You blinked, still processing the pain and the sudden chaos. The guy who had spoken was now standing in front of you, looking genuinely apologetic. He had a warm, approachable aura that somehow made the whole situation less frustrating.

"It's okay," you managed to say, trying to smile despite the discomfort in your back. "Accidents happen."

Jake and another friend, who you assumed was Sunghoon, jogged over, both looking equally concerned. Jake had a sheepish grin on his face, while Sunghoon looked more serious.

"Are you alright?" Sunghoon asked, glancing at you with worry.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," you replied, waving off their concern. "Just a bit startled, that's all."

Extending his hand. "I'm Jay, by the way. Sorry again for that."

You shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "I'm Y/N. And it's really okay, Jay."

Jake stepped forward, looking at the fallen drink. "Can we at least get you another drink to make up for it?"

You nodded, appreciating their efforts to make amends. "That would be nice, thank you."

As the four of you walked towards the park's cafe, you couldn't help but notice how easy it was to talk to them. Jay, in particular, had a relaxed demeanor that made you feel comfortable despite the awkward start.

"So, guitars, huh?" you asked, looking at Jay.

He chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, I've been playing for a few years now. Basketball is just something I do for fun with these guys."

"He's actually pretty good with a guitar," Jake added, nudging Jay playfully. "You should hear him sometime."

"Maybe I will," you said, smiling at Jay. "If you're not too busy accidentally hitting people with basketballs, that is."

Jay laughed, shaking his head. "I'll try to keep my basketball skills in check."

As you all reached the cafe, you realized that what started as a mishap had turned into a pleasant encounter. You got your new drink, and the conversation flowed easily among the four of you.

As the four of you sat at a small outdoor table at the park's cafe, the conversation continued to flow easily. You found yourself increasingly drawn to Jay's warm smile and easygoing personality. The initial awkwardness from the basketball incident had melted away, replaced by laughter and shared stories.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to the park today?" Jay asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

"I was just taking a solo trip to enjoy the nice weather and watch the swans by the river," you replied, glancing in the direction of the serene water where you'd been earlier. "It's one of my favorite spots to relax."

Jay nodded, his eyes following yours. "I get that. Sometimes, you just need a peaceful place to unwind."

Jake and Sunghoon excused themselves to get refills, leaving you and Jay alone at the table. The air between you felt charged with a new energy, the kind that comes with the potential of something more than just a chance encounter.

Jay cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "You know, I really am sorry about earlier. I hope it didn't ruin your day."

You shook your head, smiling. "Not at all. Actually, it turned out to be a lot better than I expected, thanks to you guys."

Jay's face lit up with a smile. "I'm glad to hear that. Maybe we could hang out more often. You know, when I'm not accidentally hitting you with basketballs."

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I'd like that. Maybe you can even show me some of your guitar skills."

Jay's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Deal. How about we exchange numbers? That way, I can let you know when we have a less hazardous hangout planned."

You both pulled out your phones, quickly exchanging numbers. As you saved his contact, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

Jake and Sunghoon returned with their drinks, and you all spent a bit more time chatting before deciding to head your separate ways. As you walked back through the park with Jay, the conversation continued to flow effortlessly.

"You know, I wasn't kidding about the guitar," Jay said, glancing at you. "I really would like to play for you sometime."

"I'd love that," you replied, looking up at him. "And maybe you can teach me a thing or two."

Jay's smile widened. "It's a date, then."

As you reached the park entrance, Jay turned to you with a sincere expression. "I had a great time today, Y/N. I'm really glad we met, even if it was because of my terrible aim."

"Me too, Jay," you said, feeling your cheeks warm. "Today turned out to be pretty amazing."

Before you could part ways, Jay hesitated and then spoke up. "Actually, do you mind if I walk you home? Just to make sure you get there safely."

Before you could respond, Jake and Sunghoon, who had been lingering nearby, burst into laughter. "Aww, look at Jay, being all protective," Jake teased, nudging Sunghoon.

"Yeah, make sure she gets home safe, lover boy," Sunghoon added with a grin.

Jay rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. "Cut it out, you two."

You laughed, appreciating their playful banter. "I'd love for you to walk me home, Jay. Thanks."

With a final wave to Jake and Sunghoon, you and Jay started walking in the direction of your home. As you strolled through the streets, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself feeling more and more comfortable around him.

As you approached your building, Jay turned to you with a soft smile. "Here we are."

"Thanks again for walking me home," you said, feeling a bit shy.

Jay shrugged, his smile warm. "Anytime. I had a great time today, Y/N."

"Me too," you replied. "See you soon?"

"Definitely," Jay said, giving you a wave as he started to walk away. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Jay," you called after him, watching as he disappeared down the street.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't help but smile. Today had turned out far better than you could have imagined, and you were already looking forward to your next meeting with Jay.

[riskyraiker]

Sex pollen

TFP!Optimus Prime x Reader

Everything has been going fine with team Prime since no decepticons were causing chaos and MECH has been quiet as well. The day was supposed to go well, if a pod of some kind wouldn't have landed on earth. Ratchet detected it first on the computer, notifying Optimus about it. Bee was with Raf, Arcee with Jack and Bulkhead with Miko so Y/N was the only one left to tag along. 

“What is the origin of the pod?” You ask Optimus with a raised brow walking through the groundbridge, seeing forestry afterwards. “The origin wasn't listed on the signal, and we don't have any visual of it yet.” Optimus replies and looks for the signal. Walking around, being wary of any decepticons, you spot something. A pod like the signal said. “Optimus, i've found the pod. It isn't opened yet but it has no insignia on it. Should I open it?” You commlink and receive a negative answer from Optimus. “Wait for me, Y/N. It's never clear what's in there.” You wait for Optimus, following his instructions until you hear a click. It was the pod, it's making noise, is it…opening? And POOF some form of gas hits your faceplate and you inhale some of it in shock. “Y/n what happened?” Optimus arrived at the scene, checking on you. “The pod” cough “opened and exploded some gas all over me and right on my faceplate, inhaled some of it.” You cough and hold onto Optimus so you won't fall. Once your state has stabilized, Optimus grabs the pod and contacts Ratchet for a groundbridge. 

“Old friend, would you check on Y/n they inhaled whatever came out of the pod.” Optimus asks, leaving with the pod, taking it away from the others. Sigh “Well come on Y/n. Let's check your stats.” You were about to walk over to the berth in the medbay until everything felt off, it was unbearably hot and your fans went on, working on 60%. “Ratch..I don't feel so great. Like I'm overheating and so much more” Ratchet knew immediately something was off when you froze and your fans were humming quite loudly. He's already by your side, helping you to the berth. He scans you, noticing something was off in your tanks. He checks everything possible until he finds the source of your overheating. “Not good.” Ratchet mumbles and turns around. “Y/n you need to be quarantined for a bit. Go to your berthroom for now, and don't let anyone in! You inhaled some hortuan gas, it makes your processor overwork your frame and crave…interfacing.” Ratched explains more about it for example the so-called “heat” will end if you empty your tanks with interfacing, antide or on its own, which is a month. The medical facts leave you shocked. He shooed you away and got to work on how to solve it. Goddamnit! You were unlucky at least for now.

Retreating to your berthroom, you lay down and try to relax, hoping your cooling system won't overwork itself. After a while you find out it's useless to even try to relax, your processor is now running through every possible situation where you're interfacing with somebody. God, it would be nice. Lubricant was leaking now between your legs, your plates were not able to keep it hidden. If this was the effects of a few earth hours how would the rest of the day be or possibly the whole week? Others were informed of your state and how you wouldn't be able to leave your berthroom for a few days or longer until Ratchet figured out how to stop the side effects. The bots brought you energon time to time and talked with you, except Optimus. He was busy doing research and anything else on his datapad. He was worried about you, of course, he was since he's the team leader, but this was something else. He wanted to help you, to do something but he isn't a doctor of any kind. 

The first day wasn't that bad but after a few days? You're like a zombie with only one thought, craving brains except you were craving sex. A lot of it. And the only bot who you thought about was Optimus. His beautiful hips that you could hold tightly when thrusting into him or his neck cabling that you would bite into. You had enough, you won't wait for any form of antidote or the heat to pass. Walking out of the room searching for a specific door, groaning and rubbing your thighs together while walking. Knocking on the one specific door you hear pedsteps and once the door opens, you check. It's Optimus with a quite surprised look. “Y/n shouldn't you be in quarantine?” He asks while you breathe heavily, staring at the Prime. It wasn't long until you launched yourself straight against Optimus, pushing him down, while the door closed automatically. “Let me have you, please?” You beg still breathing heavily and already grinding against the bot below you. “I've been thinking of nothing else except you. You, you, and you full of..me. Let me have you.” it wasn't a question anymore, more like a demand. If the Prime was against this he could overpower you most likely. Your lips crash against his and your glossa slides right through. Your servos grab onto the sides of Optimus’ faceplate, pulling him closer. You get more aggressive with your movements, grinding harder against Optimus and tugging his helm closer if that's even possible. The making out continues while you lift him up somehow and carry him over to the berth. “Open up, open up, open the plates, please!” You growl against Optimus’ lips and you can hear how his interface plating opens, how lubricant leaks all over the berth. “Oh love, can I taste you?” You ask patiently even though you can barely hold back yourself and your actions. Optimus gasps and takes a moment to answer “You may. Please do.” Even if Optimus is losing his composure he still is polite as always. 

You dive in between the Prime’s legs and start devouring the wet valve, not having enough so you suck on his external node. The stimulation makes Optimus clench his thighs and wrap them around your head, making him groan. Sticking your tongue into the wet warmth, you can't help but moan at the taste. The lubricant gushing and squirting everywhere, as you eat the Prime out, gives the air a sour odor. You felt like you were…high? It's the gas or the fact that the Prime was holding your helm between his peds. “Ugh! Ray, please do not stop, I'm about to- nghh!” Optimus groaned and like on command your intake is filled with cum. You eat the mech out a little more since you don't want to waste any single drop. That taste is so heavenly and you need more of it. The click of your own interface plating opening makes Optimus glance at you only to be bit gently on his neck cables. The stimulation on his cables distracted him so much that he didn’t realize you were pushing in, the sudden stretch in his valve made him moan and throw his head back while you leaned your helm against Optimus’ shoulder bottoming out. The moment your spike has completely vanished into the Prime’s warmth, he shrieks. Your spike touched Optimus’ ceiling node perfectly, while you were loving the sounds Optimus made he was embarrassed and covered half of his face with his battle mask. “No. Take it off. Now.” You growl and start thrusting hard right into the mech's ceiling node. You can hear the sound of the mask deactivating and you grin that lust-filled smile until you kiss the prime again. The clanging of metal continues as you two make out, both close again to overloading. The moment you reach your climax, a few seconds after Optimus, you pull out, flip the Prime over, and push back in. You growl of pleasure (Fucking animal…) and pull the smokestacks located on the Prime’s back, which surprises Optimus who gasps at the sudden force. Now his back is pressed against your chest you nibble at the sensitive cabling, you remained the same since you walked through the door, while Optimus’ act has completely fallen. His calm and strong mentality was broken to nothing except moaning and whining since his legs shaking with too much tension and hips meeting your thrusts. It takes a while until your thrusts and stimulation make both of you overload, but this time Optimus is starting to get overstimulated while you continue. “R-Ray..Agh! Too much.” Optimus whines as you tug harder at his smokestacks. “I assume Ratchet tol- ngh! He told you about my condition and how it stops. Well, I’m no- ahh. I’m not stopping until my tanks are empty and spilled into you, sweetspark.” You whisper into his audio receptor and bite the little piece of it. Optimus knew that you wouldn’t stop, driven by the bio-gas in your system so he tried his best to endure the overstimulation, but after his fourth orgasm, he couldn’t bear it anymore. You hear the whines and pleas of stopping, but you’re so close to emptying your tanks. “One more, sweetspark. One more.” And you go on with deep yet painfully slow. As your climax arrives the seventh time, Optimus overloads one last time which is his fifth. While Optimus has tears bubbling in his optics and letting dry away, you’re gasping for air. Your tanks are empty so the effect of the gas goes away, and the moment you become conscious, you tense up. Seeing the prime in such shape and you were the one who caused it made you feel awful until the Prime understood the state you were in he talked you back to reality. “You do know I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it.” The words almost went through your other audio receptor until your lips met Optimus’. He kissed you to bring you back of your head. 

The two of you clean up and head out of the berthroom to inform Ratchet of your well-being. You both also know if you tell Ratchet he will know what you did. While walking over to the main area Ratchet does recognize Optimus’ walk pattern so he starts to talk. “Optimus I’m almost done with the antidote for Ray.” You cringe in embarrassment and cover your face while Optimus surprisingly chuckles. “About that old friend. We’ve come to inform you of Ray’s well-being.” Ratchet heard Optimus just fine, but does his research a few seconds before turning around, spotting Optimus and… you. “Ray. Don’t tell me you did what I think you did.” Ratchet whispers. You snicker and blurb it out “I couldn’t handle it, marched over to Optimus’ room, and finished what I started!” Ratchet just groans since he is close to finishing his project on the antidote. “No wonder Bumblebee mentioned metal clanging in the hallway.” The medic mumbled just loud enough for you both to hear. While you laughed at the new statement Optimus was the one embarrassed this time. “I hope it was just the clanging he heard.” You whisper and snicker once again.

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

AN: This is my first time posting smut on tumblr SO if you want to read more do go on AO3 and there is more of fics like this one!

My AO3 profile:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/risky_writer/works

[contentloadingandstuff]

Late Returns | Dom!Lisa x Sub!Male!Reader

A/N: I sat down today, set a 45 minute timer and told myself: Alright, content, a smutty short. Don't think, write. Well, 45 minutes turned into an entire day and roughly 6 pages of text. Is this graphomania? T/C: Femdom, clothed female nude male/CFNM, facesitting, cunnilingus, electrostimulation, amazon position, use of a condom.

While the Academy of Mondstadt was far from the level of strictness expected in Sumeru, it certainly wasn't easy. Notes, deadlines, classes, practice, essays and books. Books upon books upon books, stacked in every corner of your house. The knowledge they contained was crucial for passing the many exams you had yet to face, making each book priceless - literally, as copies sold to students have price tags that still haunt your sleep. 

The only option was the Favonious Library. 

You couldn't say you were the most diligent of people. That in of itself was bad, but combined with the diligence of the head Librarian, Miss Lisa, it was a nightmare. You did your best to keep track of the due dates - among the mess your studies constantly created - and you succeeded… at first. Later, as the year got more and more hectic, you would forget about tomes and turn them in after the appointed date. It was only due to Lisa's kindness that you were spared from the occasional thousand or two Mora fine. 

Still, you couldn't help but feel she was losing her patience with you. She grew more and more smug, probably knowing that your entire livelihood relied on her not asking for her due payments. She even started calling you a cutie, something you found fairly flustering. You could only hope to stay on the good side…

… but obviously it had to go down sometime. 

This month has been so busy you were forgetting your very own name. By the time you got a grip and took all of the late returns to the library, you knew you had a bomb on your hands. No amount of smiles or tea parties could get you out of this kind of debt. 

“Ah… Sorry, cutie.” Lisa said, browsing through her record book. “These are very overdue I'm afraid. If anybody would see me going easy on you, they would certainly feel unjustly treated…”

You rubbed the back of your head, looking hopefully at her. “Miss Lisa… I don't have much money at the moment… Could I maybe pay in installments?”

She smacked her lips, slowly raising out of her chair. “I'm afraid that won't do. But, if Mora isn't the way, I'll think of other disciplinary means.” You could tell you saw a small flicker in her emerald eyes as she took your hand. “Follow me.”

There was no time to refuse. You sighed in defeat, going along with her as she led you to the back room. Taking your seat at the small table, you watched as she drew a key and locked the door behind you. You swallowed, nervous at what the sorceress had in store for you. 

Lisa drew a piece of paper and tallied up your due, revealing a shocking, six digit sum. How in the world were you to pay that up…

“As I said, we can change it into something less monetary.” Lisa joined her hands on her chest, looking at you from under her wide, purple hat. “You could do library duty, public works, cleaning or, say, help me specifically.” 

You nodded at the last one - it seemed the least strenuous and, if truth were to be told, you loved spending time with her. Even if it wasn't to earn favors. 

“Excellent choice, cutie. Let's start now.”

Lisa approached you, an eager smirk on her lips. With a gentle tug she stood you up from the chair. You could feel her warm breath on your skin, causing it to heat up with a blush, eliciting a chuckle from her. So responsive, she said, as her hands traveled over your arms and down your back, coming to rest on your hips. 

You felt her fingers creep behind the waistband of your pants but lost focus as soon as her lips touched your cheek. Hidden under the wide rim of her hat, Lisa kissed each inch of your cheek, slowly going up to your ear. The tip of her tongue tickled your earlobe, riddling your skin with goosebumps as her other hand continued its quest. Her fingertips rubbed your thighs through the fabric of your boxers, following a trail from the outer to the inner part of your leg. 

While her tongue continued its work, Lisa's other hand found its place behind your pants and with a slight tug, she pulled them down. You meekly took off the article of clothing, letting her hands grope whatever part of you that struck her fancy. She gently raked her nails across the soft fabric covering your buldge, a nervous hum slipping out of your lips. You allow your hands to wrap around her waist, granting her permission to go further. Her index finger starts trailing up and down your clothes cock, swelling up under her gentle tease. Lisa's lips withdraw from your ear and move closer to yours. Your eyelids lower; your head tilts in expectation. You draw closer, so close, you can barely taste her lipstick, almost…

“Ah!”

Your body jumps back on reflex as a spark of electricity goes through your sack. Lisa smirks, seeing you close your legs and grip your package protectively, all with that adorable look of - fittingly - shock on your face. She turns around, humming. 

“Don't forget this is a punishment, cutie~” She flashes you a smug look and turns towards the couch. “Over there, Y/N. Lay back, will you?”

You obey her command, feeling excitement bubble in your veins. Lisa nods in approval. Her hat is removed with gentle touch and placed securely on the large table, the centerpiece of the room. While unbuckles the chain connecting her top, she lets her Vision drop and fall between her bountiful mounds. With a quiet moan, she slowly drags it out by the small chain still attached to it, letting the cold metal drag across her burning hot skin. The clothes are discarded on the table; Lisa steps out of her heels and waltzes up to you. 

“Mm~” She touches the tip of your cock, struggling to break free of its confines. “I have a feeling you're aching to get out of these, aren't you?”

The purple glow in her eyes causes your pulse to jump. Fearing another shock, you clumsily pull down your boxers, getting rid of the shirt for good measure. The witch's gloved hand grips the tip of your shaft, pushing her thumb into the flat of it. You feel your veins bulging under the pressure, causing your dick to throb in her hand. She laughs. 

“Look at this little cutie, so eager for my touch…” She drags her palm across your erection, moving it to rest on your stomach. “But I'm afraid he'll have to wait. Your punishment begins now. Are you ready?”

You nod. 

“Good boy.”

Lisa steps up onto the couch. She stands still for a moment, letting you gawk up at her like a helpless puppy. She turns around, the cloth flaps of her corset doing a painfully good job of hiding her assets. She holds the back one in her hand, revealing a set of black, laced lingerie under. It hugs her fatty thighs tightly, almost threatening to come apart with a crouch. The silk holds firm, though, as her ass lowers and settles right on your face. 

Your nose is pushed into the crevice of her ass, your mouth feeling the pressure of her fatty lips, separate from you only by a thin layer of fabric. You take a breath, and your nose fills with a strong, tangy scent of her arousal, soaking the silk of her panties. 

She shifts her hips, smothering you as she looks for a comfy position. Her attention turns back towards your manhood. Lisa takes pity on your cock and wraps her hand around it, using your chest as a support as she gives it a few test strokes. 

“Who would have thought that a cutie such as yourself carries something so…” She leans down and takes a whiff of your cock, taking in the musky mix of precum and pure lust. “Mm~... Intoxicating in your pants. The thick shaft, the bulging veins, and the delicious, thick head… Ah, I would love to feel it pushing my lips apart as it forces its way into my pussy~ Wouldn't you, too darling?”

You make a noise in response, the words drowning in the fat of her hips. 

“I'm sure you'd love to empty your naughty balls inside me… I've noticed the way you've been looking at me ever since we met, Y/N. Know that I would love to take advantage of that too~”

Lisa brings your cock closer and presses her painted lips tightly to your head. When she pulls back, the lipstick leaves a nice mark of her kiss. 

“But first thing first… Your punishment. For being such a handsome, shy and absolutely tasty little cutie - and for the books of course - you'll eat me out. If you'll be a good, diligent boy, I'm sure I'll have an appetite for a second helping. I'm sure you'll handle it.”

You mumble yes, miss into her ass, your mouth salivating at the prospect. She giggles, wiggling her hips to bury you deeper in. You move your hands to her waist and, as soon as you touch her, you yelp in pain at the zap delivered to your cock. You whine, and immediately off-hand her. 

“Bad boy. Use your teeth.”

Lisa rubs the skin right above your cock, grazing the base with her immaculate nails, promising more if you behave. You open your mouth, bite down on the fabric and, with utmost care, pull it away. The fabric digs into Lisa's skin, exposing her just enough for you to get in. Feeling your way around her slit, it isn't long before you find the wet, expecting lips. With the tip of your tongue as your guide, you slide between her inner lips, feeling the salty taste of her excitement. A few humms of approval escape her lips. You use all of your mouth to fully expose her pussy. 

She doesn't guide you this time, and instead wraps her hand around your cock to signal her satisfaction. You feel her hand squeezing your dick as Lisa pumps it up and down with frustrating deliberation. Knowing that the pleasure or torture of your cock is at stake, you dig in. 

“Ah~!” She moans as your tongue dives between her eager folds. 

You dine, switching between gentle flicks and strong, full licks. As you tunnel between her lips, Lisa cranes her neck back, her blonde hair cascading back as pleasure builds within her. It's not long before her needy cunt demands more and Lisa begins rocking her hips, matching the length and direction of your tongue. Her body heats up, her beautiful, deep moans filling the room. More, she says, now resting on your entire body as your fingers dig into the fat of her ass, stabilizing her hips for better access. Your tongue dances around her bud, sliding between her folds before locking onto the clit, lips wrapping around it and sucking. Lisa whimpers and her grip on your dick becomes tighter. You squirm, pain pulsing through you yet never slowing down your service. Her heart rages in her chest and her breath quickens as she grabs your balls with the other hand. 

“Keep… Mhn~ Keep going now… Don't get… distracted~” Your skin crawls as you sense Electro buzzing between your legs. Your grip becomes tighter, legs trembling as you feel the energy pulse down your cock and spread to each of your nuts. You shift your hips helplessly, desperate to keep your mouth working as your shaft hardens even further, balls churning even more cum at the painful stimulation. 

You feel her thighs growing tighter around your head so, with the last gasps of air you push your tongue into her core. Lisa lets out a gasp as her pussy tightens, her legs trembling around you as you eat her to completion. 

Lisa releases her hands, cutting off the electricity. Your cock throbs and bounces, both relieved and missing the stimulation. Lisa groans as she lifts her ass up, freeing you; you gasp for fresh air, coughing. With half lidded eyes and a dazed smile, Lisa looks back at you. 

“Good job, cutie.” She turns around, taking a seat on your thighs. “You know how to please a lady, don't you?”

You nod weakly, letting your hands drop to your sides. You feel Lisa prop up your aching dick with her slender hand. 

“All that licking, sucking and eating was delightful… yet my body wants more. It looks like I went a little hard on your cock, didn't I, darling?”

She strokes the head of your cock comfortingly. You wince at the sensation, instinctively tightening your thigh muscles as you watch her. 

“Aw, don't be scared. I won't punish you anymore. You did what I asked, didn't you?” She leans down, placing a light kiss on your frenulum. “You're a good boy.”

Relaxing, you lay back and focus on the feeling of her hands going up and down your legs. The calm doesn't last long, however. 

“Legs up, big boy~” 

You raise your head, shooting her a look of confusion. She smiles in response, sliding her hands under your ass and gently pushing up. You go along with her signal and raise your legs. Lisa shifts closer, gently caressing your inner thighs as she fumbles with her corset. Before she drops it, she reaches between her breasts and pulls out a small, brightly colored pack. 

“Miss Lisa…” You say, eyes never leaving her hand as she tears the foil open and pulls out a condom. “Why did you keep it there?”

“For special opportunities like this, of course. A woman has to be prepared for a sweet catch like yourself, doesn't she? It doesn't happen often, but when it does, well… Better be prepared, hm?” she coos as she slides the rubber over your raging hard-on. 

Lisa rises up, pushing her hips against yours. She steps over your legs and squats down, pushing them to hang in the air. Lisa sends you a teasing wink as she reaches under the flaps of fabric hiding her sex and grabs your dick. Your imagination runs wild before it stops completely, mind blanking out as you feel your dick finally sinking into her sloppy cunt. Your vision goes blurry for a brief moment before it's brought back down as Lisa raises up and falls back down. You see stars as your cock slams against her cervix, making you moan in unison. 

Without delay Lisa begins moving her hips up and down, her walls eagerly sucking you in as she fucks you. Her hands hold onto your ankles as her ass plops down on you again and again, the clapping growing sloppiers as each thrust coaxes her insides to drool all over your cock. Holding onto the couch for dear life you moan as she rides you, bent over and completely helpless. You could only moan and whimper in response. Lisa keeps her pace steady, looking down at your flushed face with satisfaction. 

“Such a good boy, letting me fuck you like this~” She says, reaching out to tilt your head up. Your eyes meet. “Now cum, cutie~ Empty your balls inside me~”

Tenderized by her earlier torment, your balls fail to endure her pace and tighten in preparation to bust. Your mouth cannot form a coherent word other than cum. Lisa presses her body flat against yours, holding your cheeks as she pounds you into the couch. 

“Good boy… That's it… Cum for mommy~” she whines out as you safely unload inside her, her slick walls pulsing in rhythm to coax every drop of cum from your body. When you can shoot no more, your tired form goes limp against her. 

She chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead. She slowly stands up with a satisfied, drawn out whine. You look up only to see the condom gone from your softening cock. Lisa smirks as you look at her for an answer. She lifts her front flap to reveal the end of the condom stuck inside her pussy. 

You follow her as she graciously steps down from the couch and heads towards the table. Lisa picks up her hat, making her way over to the armchair put up against the opposite side of the room. She sits down, resting her legs on the footrest. Her hat is lowered back on its rightful place.

“Consider the fees settled, cutie. But if you’d like to discuss… extended terms, feel free to come in for a cup of hot tea~”

Thanks for reading!

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Can you write one with buck trying to kiss tommy after the so I'm gross comment and tommy jokingly running away from him

"So you don't think I'm gross?" Buck asked, turning to Tommy after closing the door behind Eddie.

"Of course not." Tommy promised. "I was just pointing out what stress can do to a person."

"So you think this is stress?"

"Well... you have been pretty busy with the firehouse Halloween party. And decorating this place. And mine. And then the mummy and dislocating your shoulder. It's a lot."

Buck let out an annoyed grunt, leaning against the kitchen counter next to where Tommy was doing the dishes from the night before and their breakfast.

He'd been happy when Tommy had announced he was taking him home and would be staying with him to help him out with his hurt shoulder, but instead of spending the day kissing and cuddling, Tommy had turned into his personal nurse meets housekeeper meets chef.

"You don't have to do all this." Buck told him. "I can do it when my shoulder is better."

"It's ok, I want to. Just let me finish or it's going to bug me all day."

"Neat freak. " Buck mumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes when Tommy laughed. He watched him move around the kitchen to put the clean dishes away and even in his annoyed state it made him happy to see Tommy so at ease in his apartment.

Happy in a way that made him want to do something about it.

Something that involved peeling that black shirt his boyfriend was wearing off of him for starters.

He pushed himself off of the counter and walked over to where Tommy had just put their plates away.

"The dishes can wait." he slipped his arms around Tommy's waist and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, working his way up to his neck, and waited for Tommy to turn his head and let him kiss him on the lips.

It was kind of his signature move, but it worked every time. So why change a winning formula?

Sure enough Tommy leaned back against him and turned his head, waiting for his kiss.

Only instead of letting Buck kiss him, and do as many ungodly things to him as his bad shoulder would allow, Tommy let out a yelp much like he'd done earlier that morning and practically ran away from him.

"Jesus christ." Tommy panted, clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack.

"I thought I wasn't gross?" Buck asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder.

"You're not!" Tommy insisted. "I was just... unprepared... to uhm... see you... like... this... It's uhm well... uhm a lot... up close." he stammered, taking a step back when Buck moved closer to him.

"You saw my face up close when we woke up this morning. You were sitting 2 feet away from me the whole time Eddie was here." Buck pointed out, the annoyance from before back in full force.

"Yes, yes, I know... but... baby I like romantic comedies."

"So?"

"Well the beauty and the beast is a fairy tale." Tommy replied, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing.

It took Buck a few seconds to process what Tommy was saying.

"Oh you jerk!" he lunged forward and grabbed the back of Tommy's shirt when he tried to run away from him again.

The other man just laughed and let Buck pull him close.

"You spend too much time with Eddie, he's making you mean." he pouted.

"What makes you think Eddie didn't get it from me?"

"Maybe." Buck said, tilting his head and giving Tommy a look he hoped was at least somewhat seductive. "But I really don't want Eddie to kiss me."

Tommy softened at that and gently grabbed Buck's chin, studied his face for a second, and leaned in and kissed him.

[dat-town]

abcdlove

Characters: school radio club leader!Taesan & class president!female reader

Setting & genre: high school au, coming of age, first love, fluff, a hint of enemies to lovers but it’s only in the girl’s head

Summary: You convinced yourself that you hated Han Taesan after what he had done in sophomore year but now you have to work together on a senior project and maybe he isn’t that bad. Or maybe just for your heartbeat.

Warnings: stage names are used, OC has negative opinion about Taesan and Leehan in the beginning, mentions of social and parental pressure, the amount of banana milk consumed might not be healthy, hopefully not too ooc even though i wrote it within like 2 weeks after @restlessmaknae started sending me bonedo content

Words: 9.6k

Author’s note: this is the product of the amount of Ann Liang books i binge read recently, the instagram algorithm and @restlessmaknae’s marketing for Zico’s kids. this really pulled me out of my writing slump, so thank you for that! honestly my first impression of Taesan was that he looks like a tsundere, so that’s pretty much how it all started.

i'm pretty sure you guessed it; happy name day @restlessmaknae <3

read Leehan’s companion piece here

You had been following your well-planned route to success for years. You had already taken advanced courses at a prestigious hagwon, a private after-school academy for the subjects you totally needed to ace at CSAT. You also offered tutoring services to underclassmen, volunteered at the local library during summer and carefully chose your extracurriculars to align with the ideal student vision SKY universities had. You only needed to follow through the plan in your senior year too and you would be fine. You would finally make it.

Needless to say Han Taesan wasn’t part of your plans.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of the principal’s office where you were heading in all his 6 feet tall glory, his school uniform’s tie neatly done for once.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted out with no greeting when your steps slowly halted next to him, your jaw set and muscles tense.

Taesan turned his head slowly and looked at you impassively from under his dark fringe before speaking up in his raspy voice that made your classmates swoon whenever they heard him make a radio announcement.

“What does it look like?” He raised a brow as if he was telling you not to ask stupid things.

There could only be two kinds of reasons why somebody was called into the principal’s room: either very good or very bad. You had never gotten into trouble, so you were hoping for something positive but seeing the boy there wasn’t really promising. Not because he was a troublemaker or a bad student. He might not have been a straight A student like yourself but he was the leader of the school radio club and he was also generally liked among his peers as far as you knew. Your wariness was more so because you didn’t want to be associated with him in any way.

“Oh, both of you are already here. Wonderful! Come in, come in,” the office door opened and Principal Im rushed you inside with a welcoming smile.

At least, you could be sure by then that the news wasn't anything too bad.

You took a step to follow the man inside at the same time Taesan moved next to you as well which made you momentarily falter. However the boy merely reached out and put a hand onto the door’s edge to keep it from closing. You had to force yourself not to scoff at the fake gentleman-ish action and instead just duck under his arm to go inside the office.

You just sat down in one of the cushy chairs and smoothed out the lines of your school uniform skirt when you heard the door close and soon enough Taesan took the chair next to you.

“Alright, I won’t even waste your precious time since I know both of you are busy. I called the two of you here because as representatives of the senior classes, I would like the two of you to conduct interviews with your classmates and prepare a pre-recorded radio segment that can be broadcasted on graduation day. It can be about anything you want: what the students’ aspirations are or what they liked the best in high school. I trust you will do a great job,” the principal smiled at you hopefully but you could feel your own polite smile freeze onto your face. This was not how you imagined yourself spending the first term of senior year.

“But…”

“Yes, Y/N?” The principal looked at you expectantly and you could feel Taesan’s dark eyes on you as well which snapped you out of your confused stupor.

“Why the two of us?”

“Of course, you can get others to help too if you want but you have exceptional organizing skills as I heard and Taesan already has experience with our recording system and editing softwares. You two were the first ones we could think of, but of course I can’t force you…”

“It would be an honor, Principal Im,” you hurried to stop him there because there was no way you would have said no to a task like this. Not only because you could hardly say no anyways but also because it would look good on your resume. The only thing that bothered you was having to do it with a boy you could not stand. If you had that much time and you could do so, you would have gladly done it alone without his help but no matter how much you hated it, Principal Im was right: he had the skills to perfect a radio segment.

“Great! If you don’t have further questions, then good luck!”

“Okay, what about we meet after school to discuss the plans?” You asked immediately once you left the principal office because you had less than 5 minutes until first period and since you didn’t share a class with Taesan, you rarely ran into each other unplanned (thank god) and you would need your color-coded planner from your bag to plan any further than the afternoon.

“I have a radio club thing until 6,” Taesan simply said, not offering any alternatives, so you let out a sigh. Of course. What did you expect?

“And I have academy classes every other day,” you pointed out because he wasn’t the only one busy. “Then I can just email you your parts and we don’t need to–”

“So you can complain later that I’m freeloading off your hard work? No thanks,” the boy interrupted you and your gaze sharpened at him. He leaned casually against the corridor’s wall, a hand reaching up to loosen his tie and tilted his head at you as if to challenge you to protest. “We can make do during lunch hour.”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him that you had plans already but going over your History notes, when it was just the first week of the term and you were ahead of the course work anyway, wasn’t that necessary even though you hated giving in to his idea.

“Okay, let’s meet outside at the benches then,” you agreed, telling yourself to be the bigger person, and turned your back on the boy before he could see the frustration bubbling up in you.

You and Han Taesan had the kind of history that you didn’t really like to revisit. That’s why your initial reaction was to roll your eyes whenever you heard his voice on the school radio or to puke your guts out when girls gushed about his ‘tsundere charm’. Their words, not yours.

Actually you would have probably not cared about the guy if it wasn’t for your model student campaign which he had ruined. Last year the school had run an event to choose a student representative by voting and every candidate could have a pre-recorded segment on the radio. You had your own carefully recorded and edited audio file with the best convincing speech you could prepare and emailed them the sharing link on time just to hear yourself sing your go-to karaoke song through the radio on the big day. In panic, you ran to the school radio broadcasting station only to find Taesan sitting there by the control panel with headphones over his ears, calmly letting the audio play well past the two minutes mark, seemingly not finding it weird at all that somebody tried to win the campaign with a karaoke rendition of a love song instead of saying a few words. As it turned out, you managed to share your entire recordings folder with the radio team but the club president, instead of playing the file titled campaign_speech_final.mp3, decided that AUD_20230326_192251.mp3 was the right track for your model student image. That week you not only lost that title to the grade’s pretty boy, but you lost your pride as well and it was all Taesan’s fault. Not that he ever thought to apologize or right his wrongdoings. So no, you weren’t looking forward to working with him at all.

He was late.

You had already dotted down six different questions and a rough program outline with your half-finished, now cold rosé pasta lunch menu  on the side by the time Taesan put his tray down on the outdoor table.

“You are late,” you picked at him right away which earned you a rather confused look.

“It’s still lunch hour,” he pointed out and dug into his own kimchi jjigae like he had all the time in the world. His behavior was seriously dancing on your nerves.

“Whatever. Let’s get into it,” you prompted because you didn’t have time to argue about semantics or his attitude. “We should divide the related tasks this week, finalize the questions and gather people for the interviews, then we can start on those next week.”

“What’s the rush? We have months until graduation,” Taesan questioned and while he was right (or because), you had the sudden urge to strangle him right there. You forced yourself to stay calm.

“Well, I don’t like to leave things to the last minute. Closer to graduation, we will be busy with the exams and college applications anyway.”

“As if you don’t already have everything prepared,” he muttered absentmindedly, scooping more kimchi on his spoon, eating without a care.

You pursed your lips, annoyed. You needed to remind yourself again that you had no time nor the energy to argue with him if you wanted to get this discussion done before your upcoming English class.

“Khm… so we can agree on splitting the interviews between us, right? You interview your classmates and I will do mine. We just need a common question sheet,” you said, tapping the end of your pen on the table.

Whether it was the repetitive sound or your words, it managed to get Taesan’s attention. He looked up from his food and leaned forward on his elbows, his dark eyes sharpening their focus on you.

“How would you record the interviews?” He asked, simply yet you had a feeling it was a tricky question.

“On my phone?” You furrowed your brows. Wasn’t it obvious? How else did he expect you to do it?

“That won’t be good. We would have a huge difference in audio quality. So unless you are fine with that, you need proper equipment. I can borrow a portable mic from the radio club, but I’m not trusting you with that.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened in disbelief but Taesan didn’t elaborate on his reason. Ridiculous. He was just looking for faults in your ideas.

You let out a huff of frustration.

“Are you that desperate that we work together?”

“It’s called professionalism, miss class president,” he taunted you, looking completely serious. “I don’t want to broadcast anything under my name that’s just ‘good enough’.”

“Do you now?” You snorted and rolled your eyes. As if it wasn’t him who played your singing for the entire school. Where was his professionalism then? Who was he to lecture you about it? But okay, you could be the bigger person if he was so freaking stubborn. “Fine. We can do the interviews together with your fancy mic. These are the initial questions I thought of.”

You slid your open notebook towards him with questions about what they used to dream of becoming as a kid, what they want to be now, what colleges and majors they considered as well as their most memorable moment at the school and what they would tell their younger selves or their underclassmen. Taesan furrowed his brows as he was reading through the draft, probably dissecting each of your questions like a poor lab rat but eventually didn’t say anything. You raised a brow at him when your eyes met and he just shrugged.

“Sounds good to me,” he said which didn’t really added value but at least he didn’t find something to pick on in everything you did.

The rest of the discussion went easier as it was obvious that he would be the editor and you would organize the interviews. You were already mentally preparing a survey to send out to the students via the group chats you usually used for class president duties to see when they would be free to conduct the interview among the slots you offered. Taesan wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the hectic and busy scheduling in the upcoming weeks but eventually agreed to get it over with within two months tops. He must have realized too that the earlier you finished with this project, the sooner the two of you could part ways.

You had the first batch of interviews at the end of next week. After ruling out inconvenient locations, you ended up with the obvious option: doing the recordings in the school radio clubroom. You were against it at first because the last time you had been there you faced public humiliation, whispers behind your back for weeks about your singing and messed up campaign, but objectively speaking you knew it was the most reasonable choice, so you bit the bullet.

You arrived ahead of time, of course, but you were quite surprised that Taesan was already there too, setting up who-knows-what on the professional equipment. He looked up when the door opened, the sun hitting the side of his face, giving it a natural warm glow, a stark contrast to the coldness he often radiated. He acknowledged your presence with a nod then went back to his work, so you just put your stuff down next to the round table in the middle of the room and got ready with your nicely printed questionnaire.

For the most part, the interviews went well, the students showed up more or less on time for their own slot, Taesan let you do the talking, merely letting you know when a recording started or ended. It all started going down when the last interviewee for the day didn’t show up. After five minutes passed, you texted Wonyoung asking politely whether she forgot the interview but she didn’t answer. Ten more minutes of awkward silence while Taesan was playing (or texting, you couldn’t tell) on his phone, you tried calling her but with no success. You started getting restless and frustrated.

“She could have at least told us if she wasn’t going to come,” you muttered more to yourself than anything when your next call went to the voicemail as well. It was such a waste of time just waiting.

“Why do you always assume the worst of people? Maybe something happened and she can’t make it. She could be too sick to care about you blowing up her KakaoTalk,” Taesan looked up from his phone and there was something in his eyes that made you feel like you were in the wrong, like you were a sulky child because generally it wasn't like you were always this pessimistic about people, but before you could have argued, Taesan sighed. “You can go. I can interview her if she shows up until 6.”

Well, you could have taken his word and left. Wonyoung was his classmate and he probably didn’t have anything better to do anyways. There was a set list of questions and not much to mess up. But just as he didn’t want you to handle his beloved mic alone, you didn’t want to leave it to him alone. So you just stubbornly held his gaze, trying to come up with a more profound reason when the clubroom’s door opened and Wonyoung stepped inside in the cheerleading squad’s PE clothes.

“Sorry. Practice got delayed. Thanks for waiting for me,” she panted and Taesan sent you a ‘told you so’ look which made you want to commit atrocities. You hated not being right and even more to be reminded of it.

“It’s okay. Catch your breath,” you turned to the girl with a reassuring smile but you were undeniably relieved when you could finally bid goodbye to her and pack up. It was getting late.

However, when you saw that Taesan was still saving the audio files and uploading them to your shared cloud folder, then putting away the recording device and the mic, you stalled around the door, feeling inconsiderate to leave earlier.

“Just go,” the boy muttered gently when he noticed your hesitation and you didn’t need to be told twice.

On your way to the bus stop, you stopped by at your favorite corner convenience store for some banana milk and almost missed your bus but luckily the driver saw you running and stopped.

“Thank you,” you bowed to the middle aged man who just mumbled something about youngsters these days, then tapped your transportation card against the sensor before looking for a place to sit.

Since it was past the rush hour, there were quite a few empty seats but there was one next to a familiar face close to the door. He had put on a hoodie over his uniform and had his head against the window, eyes closed but you would have easily recognized his long ass limbs everywhere. With the taste of your hurt pride still fresh on your tongue you walked past him, sitting down in the very back, only checking on Taesan a few times to see if he managed to wake up in time to get off at his stop.

Even without the interview project, senior year was busy. You felt like your days were piles of classes, homework, mock tests, real tests, tutoring and studying. Sometimes you memorized English vocabulary or dates for History class even during your lunch breaks or on bus rides because that way you could make the most out of your time. Some might have argued that you took it too seriously but if you wanted to get into the top universities of the country, you had to.

No wonder you spent the two hours you had between classes and tutoring on Friday in the library too, working on your Literature essay. It was kind of boring and you had a long week; you justified your frequent yawns and slow blinking. You didn’t even notice when you slipped into a dreamless sleep, not until you woke up with your head over your folded arms on the table.

As you were still in the haze, instead of panicking that you might have missed your tutoring class, you slowly blinked yourself back into consciousness and the first thing you saw was a pair of eyes.

The boy sitting at the table next to yours was looking at you with something akin to the mix of concern and amusement but you were too busy committing the lovely almond shape and chocolate brown shade of his eyes to your memory to be bothered by it.

Then the realization hit you like a truck because it was no other than Han freaking Taesan.

Oh, did he always have such pretty eyes?

Realizing that you were staring, you quickly turned your gaze away, sat up properly and fixed your messy hair while mentally reprimanding yourself for letting your sleepiness take too much control over you.

You hastily checked the time on your watch, sighing in relief that you only napped for about 15 minutes, so you still had time to finish what you were doing. Which was…? Ah, right, your essay.

You cleared your throat as you focused back on your homework, pretending not to be hyper aware of every chair creaking or pen against paper scribbling sound coming from the table on your left.

The next batch of interviews were scheduled a week later and you did everything in your power to avoid Taesan, hoping that he would forget that embarrassing little encounter you had in the library. Not like he was looking for you either but now that you have become more aware of his presence, you suddenly noticed him everywhere. He wasn’t just the subject of your classmates’ talks and an annoying voice from the radio anymore, he was in the canteen, on your regular bus, on the corridor between classes. Really, you wondered if it was your mind’s self-sabotaging doing or you just managed to ignore him previously. Since you tended to be laser focused on what to do, often walking by people you know without recognizing them, it wouldn’t have surprised you that much.

Still whenever you saw him, he was usually alone if not with juniors from the radio club, so you were a bit taken aback (and you weren’t sure you were hiding it well) when a bunch of his friends from his class were already in the clubroom by the time you got there. The door was left ajar, so you could hear Jungwon’s bubbly laughter and Gyuvin teasing Taesan for ‘working oh so diligently’. They all fell silent when you pushed the door open wider and suddenly their attention was on you. Leehan patted Taesan’s upper back with a grin and muttered something about ‘boss lady is here’ which earned him a glare.

“We will be on our best behavior,” Jungwon saluted with a promise when it turned out they booked the first three slots of the session on purpose, so they could sit through each other’s interviews. While you interviewed people by themselves, since the entire school would hear the edited version anyways, you supposed it couldn’t be a problem if they really did behave. They were friends after all, if they wanted to share them why not?

Them chuckling at some parts of each other’s answers or whisper-shouted hollering about future ambitions was a bit distracting but nothing seriously annoying. You could only hide your laugh with burying your face in your hands when Gyuvin recited a freshmen memory as his most memorable with a prank that ended with the four of them becoming friends. Apparently the day before the first term’s end, right on the edge of the summer holiday, Taesan had brought soap dispenser-shaped water guns into the PE changing rooms, so whenever somebody just tried to wash their hand, they got wet. It shouldn’t have been funny since it was rather childish, but glancing at the always stern and intimidating Taesan and seeing him smile at the memory turned it into something lovely even if it ended with the four of them arguing about whose was the best prank out of all the ones they did over the years.

It was truly one of a kind to see Taesan interact with his friends, people he felt comfortable around. He suddenly became talkative and loud yet warm and gentle when he scolded Gyuvin like an Asian mom for falling asleep at Miss Lee’s class again but promised to send him his notes once he got home.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged when he caught you red-handed watching him still after he literally pushed his friends out of the door.

Despite witnessing this side of him, if you wanted to be honest, it didn’t quite sit right with you that he was friends with Kim Leehan. The popular boy might not have ever rubbed salt into your wounds by reminding you that he was chosen as the model student representative of the school instead of you who was the grade’s academically best student, the defeat still hurt. You didn’t like to lose in general. So while you knew it was a far-stretched idea, your mind couldn’t stop coming up with scenarios to prove that Taesan sabotaged your campaign speech on purpose to help his friend and it made you irritable and restless during the rest of the interview sessions.

When you were finally alone, it made you blurt out:

“Was it a prank too?”

Taesan froze mid-movement when you spoke up. He was doing the finishing touches, getting ready to leave as it was just the two of you. He slid the headphones, which he used to make sure the recording quality was good, down around his neck.

“What?” He furrowed his brows, visibly confused and you weren’t surprised, he had probably long forgotten how he had humiliated you.

“My model student speech last year,” you said, your nails digging into your palms, bitterness sweeping into your features.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the boy claimed, firm in his standpoint which made you snort.

“Of course, you don’t,” you muttered, then grabbed your bag and walked out of the door before you would say something you would regret.

A part of you thought that Taesan would ignore you the way you ignored him, especially after your callout (or whatever he wanted to call it), so it took you aback when the opposite happened.

As a class president you often had to help the homeroom teacher. It was nothing out of the ordinary when he called you into the teachers’ room and gave you a box of university application help books to hand out in class. It wasn’t really heavy but there was no proper handle on the box, so you had to hold it against your chest and it made it hard to see the stairs in front of your feet as you walked up to the classroom.

Students came and went both ways around you, nobody really paying attention to you struggling not to fall and you let out a little sigh of relief when you reached the first landing of the staircase without tripping. You adjusted your grip on the big brown box and was about to go on when the box crashed into somebody’s chest… or more like, stomach.

“Sorry, I…”

You were about to apologize automatically when you saw Taesan standing in front of you, very clearly on purpose. However, before you could have told him to move out of your way, he did the unthinkable: he easily took the box out of your hands, his knuckles brushing against your open palms as he did so.

“Hey! Give it back!” You reached out for the box again once you snapped out of your stupor but the boy’s hold on it was too strong.

“Stop being so stubborn for once,” he said, his quiet, deep voice washing over you in waves and then you could barely do anything but watch him turn around and walk up the stairs with ease, the box in his hands and his bag thrown over one of his shoulders.

You shuffled after him a bit awkwardly, halfway torn between being grateful because out of all people in the school only him was considerate enough to offer help and being offended and angry because what if he only did so because he pitied you now that he knew that you still held grudges over what happened last year.

That became a smaller worry though as you realized he was heading straight towards your classroom and you didn’t even want to guess the rumors starting if even just one gossipy girl saw him help you. You grew more anxious the closer you got but Taesan’s steps halted right before he got to the door. You almost bumped into his back at the sudden pause.

“Here,” he turned to you with the box that you took gingerly, making sure you didn’t touch this time.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, actually meaning it but you couldn’t tell with Taesan’s low hum and light on his feet disappearance if he believed you or not.

The third week of interviews went without a glitch. You were almost done which also added to your good mood. One less thing to worry about, one less to-do during your already busy weeks.

Taesan stayed behind in the clubroom this time too, hunching over the computer setup with the headphones on like always but for the first time you said bye. Or well your version of it.

“Don’t stay too late,” you told him loud enough, so he could hear you through the headphones but turned on your heels before you could have seen his reaction.

It was a good day, you decided. You got praised by your Literature teacher for your essay on the themes of social class and Confucian values in your recent obligatory read. The interviews went smoothly and the corner CU had a 1+1 promotion for your favorite banana milk. You even caught the bus just in time, getting on the vehicle after two giggling students. It was busier now than usual because lots of students had to stay longer in preparation for the Freshmen Open Day.

Apologies falling from your lips, you made your way through the crowd in the front of the bus and looked for a seat in the back. That’s where you caught sight of Taesan with his bag on the seat next to him and when your eyes met, he pulled his stuff into his lap. You hesitated for a moment but that was pretty much the only place left and it would have been more awkward if you didn’t take it. So you dropped the ignoring act, swung your bag to your front and sat down, drumming with your fingers on your knees. The bus departed from the stop and took a turn, the silence between the two of you becoming louder than the chatter around you.

You unzipped your bag and pulled out the banana milk bottles you just bought and held one out towards Taesan. The boy turned his head towards you, his dark eyes unsure and… was that blush on his cheeks? Your hands touched when he took the bottle from you, sending little tingles over your skin.

“Wanna listen?” He held out one of the earbuds of his wired earphone that he always seemed to have with him. So old-fashioned, so cool.

You felt shy as you looked him in the eye because it was like sharing something intimate. Still, you took the audio device and put it inside your right ear, smiling as the unfamiliar beats of a slower western song played. You pierced through the lid of the banana milk with your straw and hid your smile behind your drink when you saw Taesan do the same.

Maybe you were just warming up to each other after weeks of working together but it gave you the push you needed to ask about what you were listening to and it started a whole monologue about the kind of music Taesan liked and how his father introduced it to him. Honestly, he listened to a lot of bands you heard of but couldn’t really associate songs with and quite a few you hadn’t even heard about. You didn’t mind though, you liked listening to him talk about it, watching him gesture and slur his words when he got excited. It was a lovely side of him.

The bus ride never felt so short.

That one conversation and shared banana milk somehow led to daily song recommendations from the boy. He was always curious about your opinion even if you didn’t like it. Soon enough he could guess pretty accurately if you would like a song or not, so he even created a Spotify playlist just for you that he updated frequently. This turn of events was surely unexpected but not at all bad.

You also got to know that he would have liked to study sound engineering in university and you told him about your own ambitions and why it was so important for you to have near perfect grades and all those achievements. Belatedly you realized that you had never told anybody how much impact it had on you that you were constantly compared to your cousins.

It was a new side of Taesan you got to know, a side he didn’t show to just anybody and you realized it was the same with you. You hated showing weakness in front of others, yet it wasn’t too bad to admit to him that you tended to be judgemental with people because nobody had really been patient with you either before labeling you this or that.

But texting over the phone was one thing, you weren’t sure it would change anything in person. Sure, you had been seen together due to the interview project but that would be over soon. Not to mention you really didn’t want to deal with high school gossip in your last school year. And yet, you couldn’t help but look for Taesan whenever you were in the school canteen or near his clubroom. You caught yourself anticipating the radio announcements just to hear his voice. It was pathetic really, how fast you went from finding it annoying and purposefully ignoring him to waiting to see him.

Your heart did a little somersault when you actually saw him in the library one afternoon and only when you walked closer did you notice that he wasn’t just leaning over his papers but he was sleeping soundly, his pencil still in his hand, his textbook getting wrinkled under his weight. Briefly you wondered whether you should have looked for another place since Taesan must have chosen this corner table far in the back to have some peace but you would have liked to believe that he wouldn’t have minded you joining. After all, he waved to you casually like you were friends when you ran into each other on the corridors earlier that day.

Eventually, you pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and quietly put your study material down. You squinted at the books and printed papers around Taesan recognizing them as advanced Maths exercises on trigonometry. While you were trying to see if it was a sheet you had already done, something else caught your eyes instead. The light reflected on the silver bands around Taesan’s index and ring fingers down to the similar thin, metal bracelet he wore. You had never noticed that he wore accessories but you had never really paid attention to what he was wearing either (except his unmade tie). Or maybe due to the long sleeved uniform you couldn’t even notice it but now that he had his sleeves rolled up and arms outstretched, you couldn’t help but notice how long and elegant fingers he had, unfairly nice for a guy.

Taesan suddenly exhaled sharply which made you act on impulse. You leaned back in your chair and looked down at your randomly opened book just in case he woke up. However, his quiet sleeping noises soon returned to normal, so you deemed it safe to look up. You let out a relieved sigh when you saw his eyes still closed, his eyelashes casting a light shadow over his cheekbones. Dark strands of hair fell softly over his eyes and you weren’t sure what came over you but maybe all those silly romance dramas were right when they thought girls couldn’t stop themselves from brushing a boy’s fringe out of his eyes just once in their life. But just as you reached out, Taesan straightened his back and yawned like a cat, stretching his arms towards the sky. He blinked himself awake slowly but he froze the moment he noticed you right in front of him.

To make the situation less awkward for both of you, you smiled at him as casually as you could (which wasn’t much thanks to your racing heartbeat but still, you tried) and turned to your book, flipping to the correct page you wanted to review. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Taesan fix his clothes and sit up properly before arranging his rumpled papers to continue the Maths exercises. He must have been stuck on a problem though because he kept sighing and going back to the same page in the workbook. After his sixth or so frustrated sound, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What are you stuck on? Maybe I can help,” you spoke up, closing your own book, so he would see your focus was on him.

“It’s fine,” he dismissed your offer so fast that you could tell he didn’t even think about it. You were sure because that was what you tended to do too: claiming you could handle everything on your own. But still, sometimes wasn’t it nice to receive help? Like how he had helped you with that box?

“Okay, then what about explaining it to me?” You changed your strategy because sometimes even that much could help: offering a listening ear. Maybe he could realize the mistake he was making in the equation while telling you about it.

You didn’t even think about it, you just stood up and walked to Taesan’s side of the table, sitting down next to him, leaning closer to see his scratchy handwriting and the calculations he had been doing. You might have blushed when you realized just how close you were but you refused to show it. You took studying seriously after all. So you looked the boy in the eye with a challenge in yours until he gave in.

Four minutes later he found the trigonometric identity he used incorrectly.

After sharing songs through texts and studying together at the library, the next thing that became a routine for the two of you was visiting the corner convenience store whenever you left the school together. When it first happened, Taesan claimed he needed to buy something too but he was looking around in the snack aisle suspiciously long (you missed your usual bus that day), so the next time you told him that you would catch up to him at the bus stop, he didn’t need to come with you. But more often than not, he went along with you anyways and ended up buying candies or chocolate bars. When you told Taesan about your go-to emotional support banana milk reminding you of your childhood, he told you that he wasn’t really into sweet things, so he bought all these snacks for his younger siblings. One time he bought a pack of four cream milk breads just for the freebie Pokémon toy that came with it because his little sister liked that character. It made you coo internally.

It wasn’t always just the two of you though. One day you were going over the English vocabulary with Jihan from your class in the library when Taesan and Jungwon walked in and took the desk next to you, eventually joining the English quiz. Another time Leehan needed to stay after school too because of his model student representative duties (a photoshoot for the Freshmen Open Day brochures apparently and suddenly you weren’t so sulky that you didn’t get the title) and he decided to tag along when he saw Taesan and you head over to the nearby CU.

“Ah, senior year is really hell. Everyone’s so busy we barely have time to hangout after school anymore,” he justified himself while throwing an arm around Taesan’s shoulder. “Jungwon told me you went to the library to study the other day. Since when do you do that? I thought you said being around so many people is distracting.”

You still heard Leehan’s voice as they disappeared into the snack aisle with the purpose of getting jellies and you walked forward to the refrigerated section, trying not to think too much into it. Maybe senior year changed Taesan’s mind, maybe he found the presence of others motivating now. Or maybe he just wanted to spend more time with you. The thought alone made you shy.

You were on schedule with the interviews and soon only the intro and outro as well as your own parts were missing. You wrote a script for the introduction and ending which Taesan improved with his experience of radio shows at school. You argued about whether your version with the ‘high school memories forever staying with you’ sentiment was too cringy or his ‘it’s only the beginning’ version was too vague but this time there was no harshness in your voice, there were no grudges held, it was only friendly banter as you went back and forth with arguments supporting your own ideas.

Eventually you managed to find a common ground, mentioning both the importance of keeping one’s high school memories as a reminder of their formative years and youth as well as being ready for what was coming. It was not even a question that it would be recorded by Taesan because he really had a nice voice and while you tried to stay professional and pay attention to his pronunciation and the flow of the speech rather than him, you failed miserably. Luckily, Taesan had enough radio experience to know exactly what to do. He introduced the segment with ease and charm, captivating the audience (you, for now) and you had to clear your throat to focus when he finished reading.

“We can start the interview with me,” you said, eager to get on with the tasks before Taesan could call you out on your behavior. He must have known your reason for the sudden change of attitude though because he smiled to himself, quiet but obvious about it, as he held the microphone out for you and hit record.

You knew all the questions by heart but still you waited for the boy to ask before you answered.

“When I was young, I wanted to have my own karaoke room. There was one on the basement floor in the building where I used to live and the owner auntie always gave me homemade honey biscuits. She seemed to be so joyful humming songs happily,” you said at the first question, glancing in Taesan’s direction briefly.

He must have been surprised – you were too –, because it wasn’t the model student-like answer everybody was expecting of you like saying your dream had always been to become a doctor or lawyer. Honestly, you had your own answers prepared and memorized ever since the questions for the student interviews were finalized and approved by your teachers. But looking back at it now, you felt embarrassed because even though it was just an interview, it wasn’t graded or judged, yet you had felt obligated to answer according to what other people would think of you. However, in the recent weeks as you got to know Taesan better, you realized that people would judge others without reason, without knowing them, even you. So you shouldn’t have changed your whole personality just so you would fit into this image they had of you. Even if it was about your parents’ or teachers’ expectation or your classmates calling you the teacher’s pet behind your back. You had been okay with the prejudices since high school was just one step in your foolproof plan to lead a successful life, you had been okay without building deep connections with other students because you had known that you would drift away after graduation anyways but only lately you realized that you could have had fun while also working hard. You could be yourself and let people closer. The world wasn’t going to crumble, it wouldn’t ruin your plans. You could be honest, both with yourself and others, because what was the worst thing that could happen? That they would judge you? They are doing it anyway, so it didn't matter.

“And now? Now I’m applying for business majors. I’ m not sure what exactly I would like to do with my life but I will get there. Who knows, maybe one day I will open a karaoke room, too,” you chuckled even though your ambitions were to build a bigger company, something creative and useful. You still had time to figure out the details.

In the beginning of the term you would have felt vulnerable sharing these about yourself in front of Taesan or the entire school because everybody expected you to know what you want to do with your life but now, it felt okay. You actually felt lighter, relieved. Especially because there was nothing akin to judging in Taesan’s eyes as he smiled at you from the other side of the table.

“Please tell us about your most memorable high school memory,” he recited the last question after you went over all the others.

Previously, you would have said it was being chosen as a class president because it was an honor and a proof of hard work but now, your academic achievements didn’t seem that important. What will you really remember when you will be older and think back on high school?

“Honestly, senior year so far has had some unexpected surprises, it’s hard to choose just one but maybe this one. Now,” you and me, just the two of us in the radio club room, being vulnerable yet not being judged. “I like the person I have been becoming ever since this senior interview project started and I think it's going to be a great memory one day.”

Silence embraced you as you finished talking, a bit nervous but without regrets. Taesan pressed a button and the recording stopped, ready to be saved.

“So karaoke room, huh?” He asked and you kicked his shin under the table for that teasing grin on his face.

“Your turn,” you reminded him as you passed the mic and adjusted the headphones around your ears. By then, over so many interviews you were sure Taesan knew what was coming too but just for the show you asked him about his dream job as a child versus now as well as his higher education plans.

“Becoming a musician was my childhood dream. My entire family loves music, many of us play an instrument, so it felt natural,” Taesan said and even though you didn’t know this, it wasn’t hard to imagine given his love for music and all that knowledge about genres and classics. “After I joined the radio club, I realized that I like it a lot despite the fact that here we don’t usually play music. So it would be cool to be a radio DJ on a music show one day but I’m interested in the technology behind it all, that’s why I will study sound engineering.”

You smiled to yourself because you had already known that latter part and it felt nice knowing you had come so far. After a few more answers, you got to the last question about his most memorable moment and Taesan’s feline eyes turned mischievous.

“Hm, a fierce girl yelling my head off during a live school radio radio–”

“Yah, be serious!” You interrupted him when you realized he was talking about what happened last year but your voice was more amused than scolding.

“I am serious,” Taesan claimed but there was a teasing tilt in his mouth. “It’s pretty memorable.”

“So you’re saying I was the only girl interrupting you during a broadcast? Shocking,” you raised a brow at him, a small part of you feeling triumphant about the fact that in a way you were special even if your first actual meeting didn’t have the best circumstances. Thank god that his microphone wasn’t on when you showed up and straight up started questioning him. “Also, just to clarify I wasn't yelling. I just expressed my bewilderment about why you were playing that audio.”

“That was the only one under your name.”

“What?” You blinked, confused at Taesan’s quick response. He sounded like he meant it but you knew that couldn’t have been true, they got access to your entire recording folder accidentally. So if he didn’t see that, it meant he wasn’t the one checking their emails.

“To make sure things are running smoothly, we always have a script about our broadcasts and all the audio files are organized in linear order in a folder for that day. I just played what was prepared for me,” he explained and gosh, you felt so stupid.

All this time you thought he had been the one who chose the wrong file on purpose maybe to help his friend, maybe to just have a good laugh but it made sense that his juniors were more likely the ones doing such preparatory work.

“But still, you could have stopped it instead of just letting it play,” you muttered, trying to justify your reaction.

“Well, at first I thought it was actually a pretty unique tactic and then…” Taesan scratched his nape and looked away, then shrugged as if he just convinced himself to tell you something that might be embarrassing. “To be honest, I just liked your singing.”

At his words you felt the tip of your ears burn and heat spreading all over your cheeks. You were glad that the lighting in the room hid it well.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You found yourself asking quietly because thinking back you weren’t exactly nice to him.

Taesan gave you a look. Okay, true, you didn’t really give him a chance to explain before antagonizing him. And then it must have been weird to just bring it up.

“Right. Um, sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed due to your too quick judgment but the boy just shook his head as if he had never been mad at the injustice in the first place. “About your answer though, you have to cut it out.” 

Obviously with 60 people answering 6 questions, not everything would make it into the final cut, it would be more of a montage of answers, a glimpse of the seniors’ lives and you didn’t want to be reminded of that incident in front of the entire school. Not again.

“Nope,” Taesan protested, popping the ‘p’ sound, teasing just to be difficult.

“I’m deleting it,” you warned him but you seriously miscalculated several things: there was no way you could have reached the computer before him and with him standing in front of the monitor and keyboard you didn’t see anything. You tried to get hold of the mouse at the same time as looking over the boy’s shoulder but he made sure that he was always in the way which somehow turned into a one sided (struggle) wrestle match and honestly at that point you weren’t even trying to achieve anything and both of you just laughed at your poor attempts.

“Am I interrupting something?” Spoke up a newcomer you didn’t even notice. Sullyoon, another radio club member from the year, stood by the door visibly surprised to see you or well the current situation you were in: Taesan leaning against the desk in front of the computer and you pretty much plastered over him, trying to reach something behind his back.

“No!” You objected vehemently and took two steps back, stumbling a bit. Taesan reached out to steady you by the forearm and only after he made sure you wouldn’t fall did he turn to the girl from his club.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just forgot my buju here,” Sullyoon got over her surprise too and quickly retrieved the prettily decorated journal from one of the shelves. You watched her go and then buried your face in your hands because of embarrassment.

“Emotional support banana milk?” Taesan prompted after he saved the files and turned the computer off.

You smiled at him and followed him out closely. If you were any better off, you would have teased him about his flushed face but instead you just made him race you to the convenience store, so both of you would have an excuse if anyone asked about your red cheeks.

Now that all interviews were done, only the editing was left from the project and while you could have left it all to Taesan since he did the actual editing, you were there keeping him company all through it. First of all, you listened to all the raw material and decided which answers to include from each interviewee in the final cut and then you could help out when he needed a second opinion on the order or cut parts or whether the transition was smooth or not. When he was deep in the concentration mode, you just did homework or studied for upcoming tests. It took three sessions to finish it (you had to force Taesan to get his ass out of school during the second one because he was determined to finish it which past you would have appreciated but not even this project was worth losing proper meal schedule or sleep over it) and when you listened to the final version you were proud of what you had done, together.

“Should we celebrate?” You suggested once the file was sent to the principal and his secretary. You finished it pretty much on schedule and yet, you weren't as relieved as you thought you would be when you had first started it. But still, it was an achievement and you liked to celebrate small wins like this because if you didn't, who else would?

You meant it as in going out to eat something good. For example, in the tent restaurant two streets down the auntie was selling the best tteokbokki you had ever tried. But Taesan had his own idea.

“What about karaoke?”

“Yah! Stop teasing!” You glared at him but you weren't actually mad, it started to turn into a private joke between the two of you.

“I’m not!” The boy insisted and all it took was his almost pout to convince you.

There were karaoke rooms on pretty much every other street in this neighborhood, so it wasn't hard to find one where you booked a room for an hour and bought snacks and drinks at the counter from the girl who looked like a bored university student.

You usually went to sing with a small group of girls from your class, so it was the first time that it was just you and a boy. And not just any boy but Han Taesan. Somehow it felt more special. Sure, he might have already heard you sing and said that he liked it, but you were shy, so you insisted that he would pick a song first. He chose Dean's 21 and totally nailed it, the karaoke machine's high score proving that you weren't just biased when you told him that. You had already liked his speaking voice but when he sang, oh boy! You could have listened to him for hours.

You went with a girl group song you were confident in and it was fun. Song after song you both hyped each other up and the one hour passed by quickly. A part of you wished you could just pay for one more and sing until your voice became hoarse but the rational part knew that you shouldn't have stayed out too late. You still had homework to do and Taesan needed to memorize those English words for tomorrow's test.

It was the same T side of you that went a bit ahead of you and started thinking about the midterms and then how busy you would get once summer ended and the last term rolled around. It was still months away and yet, you wondered if it took that much for you to drift apart or the end of this interview project would be enough. You were a bit scared to know the answer, just how you were scared to answer Jihan's question the other day when she saw you walk to class together with Taesan. Admitting out loud that you liked him would have made it real and it would have made you vulnerable. You weren't sure you were ready to do that but it was certain that you didn't want to lose him.

“Taesan…” You spoke up quietly, swinging your feet back and forth on the bench in the bus stop after you spent the walk from the karaoke room to the stop in silence, lost in thought. The boy turned his head towards you, his fringe getting into his eyes, messy and beautiful. Your heart ached with the certainty only first love could. “Now that the radio segment is ready, will we go back to how we were?” You asked barely in a whisper as if speaking louder would have had its consequences. That was also why you had to rush to clarify. “Because I don’t want that. I… I would miss you too much.”

You didn’t mean to say it like that and it was a scary thing to admit but it was worth all the extra beats of your heart to see Taesan smile, a shy little thing stretching slowly from one side to another, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight and street lamps’ glow.

“Me too,” he said and you reciprocated his smile. There was a short pause, an inhale of the universe waiting, then Taesan called your name and you looked up immediately.

“Hm?”

He looked you in the eyes with those dark oceans of his. Once you associated them with the cold depth of the sea but since then you realized that you were wrong. You knew only a few people who had warmer souls than this boy.

“You are my most memorable high school memory for a reason,” he whispered like it was a secret and a promise at the same time.

It left you speechless a moment too long and the bubble around you burst when the bus pulled up in front of you with a loud screeching sound. Taesan was quick on his feet but instead of getting on the bus right away, he looked back at you and held a hand out for you. You blamed it on not having time to think about it with the bus driver yelling at you impatiently and took it, following the boy onto the vehicle and to your usual place in the back with a smile on your face and a new rhythm in your heart.

Taesan didn't let go of your hand during the entire ride. As you closed your eyes and listened to the music he put on, you hoped he wouldn’t let go for a long time.

[sunflowerrosewood]

Comforting Them ~ Obey Me Main Brothers HC

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

~~~

Lucifer

~Usually when you would have to comfort Lucifer, it is because of a long day

~Chasing brothers

~Keeping up with Divaldo

~Keeping up with school work

~But because of his pride, he wont show that he is breaking

~Mentally and emotionally

~It isn’t until he comes into your room and falls onto on your bed

~You would be listening to music

~Half expecting Mammom to come in

~But when Lucifer lays his head on your lap and sighs

~You realized that he locked the door and just wanted to be near you

~You would run your fingers through his hair

~And humming lightly

~Before Lucifer sighs and asks if anything he has done is worth it

~You have to help with his pride and giving him the courage

~Which if you two are dating, results in a lot of kisses

~If not, he will fall asleep on your lap

Mammon

~Mammon does not really like to be alone since you are around

~He is usually near you or invites you to his room to watch movies

~But you are kind of surprised that he allows you to have your room

~Unless he is having a bad day

~Usually because of his brothers always being around causing jealousy

~And after constantly being called a scum

~He will usually text you if he can come over

~And his head is tucked down while walking in

~You two end up laying down together

~While turning on a movie

~And you whispering comforting words to him

~If you are dating, expect him to be worried why you haven’t left

~Extra cuddles, kissing, and hugging expected

~And probably going after his brothers for making him this bad

Leviathan

~You don’t really know when Levi is upset

~Because he stays mostly in his rooms

~And absorbs into playing video games or anime

~The major reason you know he is down

~Is when you walk into his room

~Usually to play a video game or ask him a question

~He is just staring at the ceiling

~That’s what gives you the idea to lock the door and walk over

~He tries to act like he’s fine

~You know when you hear his voice crack

~And he complains about being a stupid otaku

~That you need to help

~Cuddling is usually what’s best

~And just talking about video games

~After a while, Levi will play video games with you or teach you

~And even if you are not in a relationship, he is sitting with you in his lap

~Just to make sure you don’t press the wrong button

Asmodeus

~Asmo is usually pretty good at hiding it as well

~Especially from you

~He acts so lustful

~And teasing

~But you hear from his room some whimpers

~So when you open the door, Asmo is on his bed in a ball

~Asmo doesn't notice you are in the room

~But when you get close to his bed

~He'll look shocked but quickly puts on a facade

~He'll try and flirt but you recognize he's hurt

~So as soon as you hold his hands

~Asmo just lowers his head

~And tells you he doesn't deserve your help

~If you are together, you will have to hush his worries

~Show that he deserves love

~Usually will lead you two pampering each other

~Either by bathing or going shopping

Satan

~Satan is one who does well at not showing emotions to his brothers

~But over time with you, he'll break down with you

~Usually you walk to his room

~Probably because you were borrowing a book

~Satan would be reading his book

~And when you come in, he'll visibly sigh

~And pull you towards him

~I hope you aren't busy because he'll began reading with you in his lap

~You know he's angry for some reason

~He only reads with you in his lap when he's upset

~He will try and act like he wasn't angry

~And put a wall up

~Usually by rambling about facts he read in a book

~But when you seem to forget about it or at least pretend to

~Satan will hold you tighter

~It's when he confesses that he's afraid to hurt you

~That rage will blind him and cause him to hurt you

~Even if you aren't together yet, hug him back

~It's a silent confirmation that you'll always be there

Beelzebub

~Beelzebub is pretty easy when he is feeling down

~You notice he doesn't eat as much

~And that he was lost in thought

~And not exercising as much

~You would just pull him into your room

~And have baked goods prepared

~He would just hug you

~Tight and warm

~You would hug back slowly

~He is deep breathing

~Almost holding you to make sure you are there

~It’s when Beelzebub asks you if you would like him even if he eats all the time

~That he’s trying to not eat as much

~Please just hush his worries

~You would hear his stomach rumble

~Just hand him those baked goods and have him stay with you

~It’s the simple things but it also shows that you don’t mind him eating a lot

~That you’ll help make food for him

~If you are dating Beelzebub, just let him stay in your room for a bit

~He likes being able to be in your room and allowing him to eat in there

~You make him feel like you aren’t judging his eating habits

~Which gives him validation

~And makes him feel better enough to eat and workout

Belphegor

~Belphie is another hard one to come by

~He’s so used to not showing him emotions

~Except rage so do not expect him to immediately tell you

~Instead just invite him to take a nap with you

~Let him bring his favorite pillow

~You can usually tell something is up when he’s lost in thought

~And looking away from eye contact

~When he comes to your room to nap

~Allow him to get in bed with you

~This is a place where Belphie can feel at home

~Relaxed

~And break down those walls

~So this is when you would ask him if he’s alright

~He’ll probably already be asleep or pretend to so it can be avoided

~So when you wake up from your nap

~You’ll see his eyes looking back at you almost hurt

~He’ll explain that he still feels bad for tricking you

~For having so much hate

~When all you did was help

~Just let him talk through it

~And comment how you forgave him

~Just hearing those words “i forgave you a long time before this”

~The weight is lifted off

~If you are together, expect him to hold you against his chest

~And a soft kiss on your lips

~Before the two of you decide to get up so you two can eat

[theoceansluvr]

Percy Jackson x Marine Biologist! Reader pt. 2

warnings; none ! author's notes; this is technically a part 2 so i just named it the same thing ! thank you to the lovely anon that asked me to make this it truly made my day <99 sorry if this lowkey sucks im not too good at build up !

so you were minding your own business

walking to class, blasting music in your headphones because New Rome is LOUD.

so many demigods so little space

suddenly you're knocked over on the ground, your books everywhere. . .

and there's blue mountain dew all over your shirt.

"Oh my gods I'm so sorry ! I wasn't looking where I was going and-"

Percy was frantically trying to explain himself and you were just trying to pick up your books

his skateboard is somewhere flipped over in the grass(sk8r percy has my whole heart !!!)

of course you don't really care about whatever he's saying because you just want to get to class-

he insistantly tries to give you his number so he can at least clean the shirt for you

you, trying to make this boy leave you alone, take the number and tell him to meet you after class

as expected, he does meant you after class !

he brings you to his dorm(it's an absolute mess but he wasn't expecting to have guests so..)

let's say you happened to have a hoodie on you so you throw that on and give him your shirt to wash

while he's scrubbing the life out of it in the sink you guys start talking

once you tell him your major he's ECSTATIC !!

like giggling, kicking his feet kinda happy !

he normally doesn't brag about his godly parentage but oh boy

"Oh your gonna be a marine biologist ? My dad's basically the original marine biologist so like.."

you think it's cute that he's borderline trying to impress you so you guys kept talking even after he cleaned your shirt

days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months and you realize you actually really like percy..

like REALLY. like Percy

and who wouldn't ? his fish like charm is captivating is it not ???

and percy, ever oblivious to his own feeling, didn't even realize he liked you until you took him to the beach for some research one day

you're rambling about whatever animal it is your project is about

and he's staring at you like you put the corals in the sea(couldn't pass up a sea reference i fear)

which you are completely unaware of-

until he starts talking of course

"It's sweet when you talk about stuff like this.. cute even."

You're completely caught off guard because ⁉️

you brush it off as him just being nice

but he insists that he's being genuine, spilling out all his feelings in a kinda dorky way

and of course, you tell him you feel the same way

you both kind of sit in silence, the ocean crashing against the shore

"So.. what now ?"

SUPER BAD ENDING BUT I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE WRITING A KISS SCENE AND THAT'S ALL THAT CAME TO MIND AT THE END OF THIS. . . hope this was as good as the dear that requested it wanted it to be and thank you so much again ! <9

[plmp0]

The Sex Love House PT 3

Summary: Welcome to the love house where a lot of stories will infold, 7 participants will have a chance to live together in the same house for a mounth while still doing their normal activities, will they find real love in this short period? Or at least this is what ur friend want u to believe. Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: a very manipulative!jay, manipulative!sunghoon, manipulative!heeseung, ex!bf!Jake, everyone is a perv in this house, reader is clueless, shameless reader, kinda stalker reader, Siyeon (from dreamcatcher) is also part of this, this is a pure filth, explicit content.

Smut warning: hand!job, oral (f), cum eating, desperate Jake, kind of subby!jake, p in v, unprotected sex (cause it's fiction), overstimulation, a lot of teasing, i think that's it

A/N: This part was supposed to go out a long time ago but i forgot to save it and i had to re-write it again so it's not as good cause i got annoyed sorry. Also this is not proof read so there might be some mistakes and typos so yeah

It's the week-end Jake woke up today going straight to ur room knocking on ur door before entering, u were still in ur shower robe hands blow drying ur hair as he looked at u through the mirror "oh hi i was going to talk to u after i finish, we didn't get a chance to yesterday" u said upon brushing ur hair.

He noded his head eyes scanning u, u got more beautiful since the last time he saw u, he's ngl he forgot about u at some point but he just woke up one day having u running through his head, what could u be doing now? Did u get taller? Did u let ur hair grow? How many relationships have u been through? He had these small thoughts about u, but everytime his heart tries to soften to u, the memory of ur ghosting and its side effects come back to him, it was like a trauma for him, getting in the way of every relationship he tried to be in, always having doubts about the other part, not able to trust her fully, he really has abandonement issues now.

"There is no need to bring back what happened in the past" u said getting him out of his thoughts, u turned off the blowdryer approaching him eyes softening now that he is close to u, ur guilt kicking in immediatly "m so sorry for what i did, i know nothing can excuse what i did but i wasn't mature enough" u said holding his hand in urs, he cleared his throat avoiding looking at u, pulling out his hand gentely and that was enough for u to know that he didn't forget u.

U sighed feeling bad but deciding to brush off the topic "so tell me, what r u doing now?" U asked hoping to get rid of the awkwardness noting how he didn't let a word out.

He smiled shrugging "i took over my dad's work"

U smiled back remembering how sweet his dad used to be and how good he treated u "i hope he is doing fine"

"He is" was all he replied with, taking a seat on ur bed "ahh right! Do u want something?" U asked after runing out of ideas to lighten the mood, he sighed hands massaging his forhead "i just wanted to ask if u have some pain relievers"

"Ohhh? Ur head hurts?" U asked hands busy searching in ur drawer for the said pills, taking it out and handing it to him "here" he took it from u thanking u and putting it in his pocket .

U sat on ur chair facing him now forgetting that u r still in ur robe that is about to open in any second now, ur hair isn't fully dry u look so... so tempting Jake's eyes can't help but stare at u head empty only u running through it.

"U don't want the guys to know that we were together?" U asked after talking for sometime now without getting a reply from him.

He cleared his throat again " ah idk i didn't know if u'd like them to find out so i chose to not say anything" he shrugged, u smiled at him he is still considerate as always "i don't really mind but since we didn't talk about it the first time let's just keep it between us"

He smiled back wanting to stay with u longer, seeing u now in front of him again brought back his old feelings towards u.

U heard ur phone ring on the table behind u "excuse me" u let out softly turning back and stretching to get it without standing from ur seat, exposing ur bare thighs and a faint sight of ur blue panties to Jake whose eyes were boring into u tongue darting on his lower lip , he gulped hands sweating and itching to feel ur soft skin, u smiled at ur succeed attempt to get ur phone seating properly now and answering ur call, Jake's eyes didn't leave u even for a second scanning the way u pout whenever something is not pleasing u, the way u roll the end of ur hair listening to what's been said on the other line, lips smiling from time to time flashing ur white teeth, everything about u was beautiful and he miss having u for himself.

U made eye contact with him in the middle of the call mouthing a sorry, Jake only smiling at u as he waited for ur call to end (but wishing it to take longer so he can drink in ur beautiful features more).

U ended the call that was from one of ur co-workers asking u about some file u wondering why tf they want that in the week end, u sighed looking at Jake noting the way he is looking at u.

"That took longer than i expected sorry"

He didn't budge even when u waved ur hand in front of him, only waking up when he heard ur soft voice calling his name and he almost let a sound out from that "are u okay? U r spacing out a lot" u asked concerned, eyes looking at the way his adam apple boped down before hearing him gulp loudly.

He shakes his head like he was in some sort of trance head dizzy as he inhaled u r fresh smell now that u approached him " m fine dw" u sat next to him, resting ur back on the wall and he followed ur movement head titling to face u " u r still as beautiful as u were" he let out making u blush a little bit as u give him a thank u chewing on ur lips fingers playing with the hem of ur robe.

He massaged his shoulders letting out a small groan and u turned to look at him he really look so tired "do u want me to give u a massage it's gonna help u relax a little bit" u said.

And he stayed still for a minute thinking about ur offer before noding in agreement, u stood up going to take an oil u use whenever u wanna relax "come on lay down" u rushed him and he did "i think it'd be better if u remove ur shirt" u said as he removed it and tossed it somewhere on the bed, u straddled his back he pressed his face on the matress upon feeling ur weight on top of him, his body shivering when the cold oil met his skin ur hands following after, massaging his nerves skilfully, he shut his eyes his body relaxing while releasing soft groans every now and then.

U were so good with ur hands he almost fell asleep if it wasn't for the unintentional scrach he felt on his back, u just continued working ur magic ignoring the way his body squirmed, u smirked a little bit knowing exactly how he liked that, u kept digging ur nails on his skin saying a sorry with a fake pout whenever u do so.

He could feel his muscles tensing up again, his forehead now resting on his hands teeth biting his lower lip not wanting to let a sound out, but it was impossible at this point especially when u brushed ur fingers faintly over his soft spot, u knew his body so well doing the most to get a reaction out of him, ur competitive side kicking out until a moan skipped his lips making u stop ur movements immediately "ohhh?" U said mockingly leaning forward until ur lips met his ears "u r still the same Jakey" he whimpered his hips humping the mattress shamelessly making u chuckle "what are u doing?" U asked faking a confused tone as u moved from his body standing in front of him. Jake titled his head looking at u confusion written all over his face, u cocked an eyebrow at him as he didn't stop his movements his eyes boring into ur body that was all exposed for him at this point, the robe not doing any job at hiding ur skin, the small curls at the end of ur hair still wet arms crossed waiting for him to speak but he didn't, u sighed clenching ur jaw slightly leaning forward lifting his chin with ur index finger "where r u looking? My face is here" u exclaimed wanting to get something out of him but his eyes are fixed on ur lips, u dart ur tongue on them watching how his own mouth is open almost drooling at the sight of you. Jake has always been like that, everything u did used to turn him on, and it looks like nothing changed.

U chuckled softely kneeling on the floor so u can face him blinking slowely as u caressed his cheeks titling ur head and getting closer to him until ur noses touched u were planing to tease him a little bit more but he rushed kissing u like he was starving for years, his lips moving so fast tongue rolling around urs u let go of his cheeks one hand now around his neck while the other one is searching for his hair tugging slightly as he moans in the kiss.

U left his mouth panting for some air, u looked his way and u can't help the heat that went to ur cheeks when u saw him, he looked so fucked out just from a kiss coming closer to kiss u again "so eager" u thought

U kissed him again his hands holding onto ur thighs, Jake now sitting properly without breaking the kiss making u also stand and straddle his lap, u started rolling ur hips slowly his hands following your pace, his thumbs tracing circles on ur inner thighs, ur hand going from his hair to his neck applying a small pressure and he groaned in the kiss.

"Shhh" u warned him and he whined in return making u smile in the kiss as ur hands traveled to his pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down his knees along with his boxers, he let a deep breath out his body tensing up as he waited for u to touch him, the anticipation killing him.

"Please" he managed to mutter out his dick twitching in the cold air as his head tilted backwards and a sigh left his lips when u wrapped ur hand around his cock.

Ur thumb pressed on his slit collecting the precum that is oozing from it and spreading it along his length, his grip on ur thighs tighten as his body shakes under ur touch, he moaned in the kiss the need of breathing making him part his lips slightly, his moans were so loud despite him trying to stay silent his eyes were rolling to the back of his head.

His hips started moving up to meet ur strokes as his moans increased in volume, u felt him getting close, ur thumb now pressing on his slit again teasing him by stroking the base and going to the top before repeating the same process.

"Baby" he moaned against ur lips as his hips buckled upwards his stomach and chest rising, his hands are gripping ur thighs tightly, his nails digging in ur flesh, his toes curling as his mouth parted in a silent scream the only thing coming out of his mouth was a gasp as his eyes rolled back.

His dick twitched a few times his cum landing on ur robe and his chest, ur eyes were scanning the view, his head was still resting on the bed his eyes closed, his whole body shaking still feeling the waves of his orgasm, he was so sexy like this, and u can't deny that the thought of him getting off just from u stroking him made u so turned on, u were sure that your panties were soaked wet.

He was catching his breath when he felt u getting off his lap, he opened his eyes, his chest moving up and down, his dick still twitching as he saw the mess he made.

"Fuck y/n im sorry" he said trying to grab a tissue but his body was numb and his mind hazy.

U didn't pay him any attention going straight to ur closet pretending to get another robe and discarding the dirty one on the ground.

Jake was looking at u his dick already hardening again his eyes were roaming over ur body his gaze fixated on the curve of ur ass and the way the blue panties hugged ur thighs.

He wanted to eat u alive, he wanted to make u cry out his name, he wanted to fuck u, and u wanted the same, his dick was pulsating against his stomach, and all his senses were focused on u.

U felt his stare, turning back to face him a smirk forming on ur lips as u took a step forward and his hands were instantly on ur waist pulling u down on his lap, he attacked ur neck kissing, biting and sucking on it, he didn't want to leave a mark so he didn't suck for a long time, he went lower until his teeth bit ur collar bone his hands pulling down the new robe as his lips met the top of ur breast leaving kisses and licks.

"Oh" a sigh escaped ur mouth as u tilted ur head backwards, his right hand went down cupping ur clothed pussy while his left hand held onto ur waist for support.

He started moving his fingers, drawing circles on ur clothed clit, he didn't stop the movement of his mouth on ur breast as u started grinding against his hand. Jake was like a starving man, his touches so earger, his actions desperate.

U held onto his shoulders for support as he pushed u back laying on the matress, his body covering ur smaller frame as he started sucking on ur right breast his hand moving away the panties and entering two fingers inside ur pussy making you arch ur back as a gasp left ur lips.

His fingers were hitting the right spot and he went to kiss you again, his mouth making it hard to breathe, the pleasure was too much, ur eyes were watering, and his dick was rubbing against ur thigh, Jake broke the kiss panting like a dog delivering kisses on you stomach as his thumb was circling your clit, u were so sensitive his every move was sending shivers down ur spine, he was so focused on pleasing you, and it wasn't hard for him to get the job done, it's like he has been dreaming about this for a long time, he was now on a face level with your pussy he groaned biting his lips before replacing his thumb with his tongue, a scream slipped your lips and your back arched high in the air, his grip on ur waist was bruising, he didn't want to let go.

He hummed upon tasting you his eyes closed tongue going wild making it hard for you to contain ur moans and u were sure by now that if Heeseung was in his room he 100% have heard you, his room next to urs and that just added to ur heat making u go crazy, you were close by now already worked out just from earlier, Jake's finger went deeper making you let out a cry hands tugging at his hair and he moaned upon that "Cum for me" he mumbled against your pussy, the vibrations of his voice enough to make u reach your peak.

You cried out his name legs shaking uncontrollably, head dizzy, and chest heaving, and Jake didn't stop licking on ur clit not even giving u time to calm down and recover from ur first orgasm, "No-omg" your hands went to pull him away but instead you found them back on his hair pushing his face closer, his tongue was so skilled and u can feel yourself getting close again letting out small cries , the feeling of his tongue was so amazing and u can feel your whole body burning up, it didn't take long before u came again squirting on his face this time.

Jake pulled away his lips wet, face glistening with your juices, his eyes dark, "That's so fucking hot" he muttered licking his lips and wiping his face with his hands, he was looking at you hungrily, his cock red and dripping with precum, you wanted him inside you.

"C'mon here" u said pulling him closer for a sloppy kiss tasting yourself on his tongue as you started moving your hips, both of you were a moaning mess, the need to be close was so strong.

"Jake" u moaned against his lips and he hummed eyes still closed "fuck me" you said and his eyes shot open his mouth hanging open his breath got caught in his throat, and u smiled at him softly you were always a fan of his reactions always acting like he hasn't heard these words before as if it's his first time and you were sure that he was now going crazy, ur words made him feel like his heart is about to explode.

He didn't hesitate to get between your legs, his dick rubbing against ur wet folds as his mouth went to suck on your neck, your hands went to his back leaving red scratch marks as his tip was pressing on your hole, the need to enter was strong his eyes scanning your expressions as he entered you, a satisfied sigh escaped both of you lips, you were so warm and wet around him he didn't have any energy to start slow, his thrusts were hard and rough his hands holding onto the sheets as his hips met yours with a slap, the air was filled with your moans and the sound of skin slapping, the bed creaked underneath you and you could hear it hitting the wall, it's not a surprise if u end up with a hole in the wall, and he was going so fast he didn't give you a chance to adjust his cock hitting the right spots, "fuckk you feel so good Damn" he groaned his hips moving by themselves his head dropped enjoying the way you feel around him, your hands went to his back pulling him closer wanting to feel him deeper, his chest was now touching yours, his skin was so hot and he was sweating a lot, you can see his veins popping his mouth hanging open as his forehead was touching yours, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and it was hard to catch your breath, you can feel yourself getting close for the third time tonight your stomach twisting and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jake's hand moved away from the sheets gripping the headboard as he was slamming into you loving how you moan his name, he was close, so close, his dick twitched inside of you.

He was so lost in pleasure he had other plans for you but he forgot about everything focusing only on the delicious feeling of you he swear he hasn't felt this good since being with you, he doesn't know why but u just enjoys it more when it's you, his thrusts were now unrhythmic moaning as his hands went to the pillow and you let out a surprised yelp when his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair pushing your head back loving how you look for this angle ,his cock was throbbing and pulsating inside you the knot in your stomach was so tight and you could feel yourself reaching your peak, Jake was grunting his eyes shut curses leaving his lips "fuckk fuck fuck" and you could feel the tears building up so sensitive from the previous releases and it was a matter of time before both of you came at the same time, he pulled out after spilling his seeds all over your stomach.

He let go of your hair and collapsed on the bed next to you, both of you were panting your minds were blank and the air was still thick, the room smelled of sex, Jake's hair was sticking to his forehead, his chest was moving up and down, the only sound in the room was the heavy breathing. You were laying there trying to come back from the high, you looked at Jake his eyes closed, his face still sweaty and red, your eyes moved lower, his chest and stomach are covered with his own cum and he didn't seem to mind.

You chuckled "what?" He asked eyes opening to look at you.

"Look at the mess" you said pointing at his stomach, he sat up a little bit checking it out wanting to say something but he stopped after seeing you crawling, ur hands dropping his body back as u leaned down collecting all the cum that was on his body licking it up making sure to leave no trace behind Jake had to slap himself to see if he was dreaming, his eyes were bulging and his mouth was dry 'fuck you are so sexy y/n" it was too much, too many feelings all at once, it was hard to control the heat pooling in his groin and he can feel himself getting hard again, he let a deep breath out when you stopped to show him the cum u collected before swallowing it.

"Fuck so dirty" he said pulling you for a heated kiss, your tongue battling his for dominance, he was already hard again his body was aching for u and u couldn't help but rub your pussy against his shaft.

"Please" he begged, and as much as u wanted him you were sure that your body can't take anymore, already sore from yesterday and the events that took place minutes ago.

"Next time Jakey" u said pecking his lips and he whined, his hands went down to rub your pussy and u let him, u were sure that you can't do it but a few moments later u were bouncing on his cock again.

-

You sighed after what happened Jake stayed with your for a bit helping you move to the shower wanting to help but u stopped him wanting to relax for few minutes and have an alone time and he nodded pecking ur forehead and leaving. You took longer than intended cleaning your body lazily, you went out expecting to find a mess in ur room, ur robe thrown on the ground along with ur panties and the sheets wrinkled but instead everything was neat your clothes on the basket another sheets on the bed and that alone made your day.

Jake was sweet and caring as always and ur heart ached with guilt, ur mind was still in shock from everything but you didn't have the energy to spend a long time thinking, you dressed up wearing a long blue dress with a small slit on your left leg, drying your hair only with a towel putting on some perfume and walking out. U heard some noises on the living room and u followed finding everyone except from Jake and Siyeon sitting on the table having breakfast

Jay's eyes followed your every move his jaw almost dropping, the sight of your thighs driving him insane and it was so unfair, "wow y/n u look so beautiful" Heeseung said devouring you with his eyes and Joy nodded her head while Sunghoon didn't say a thing his eyes scanning u head to toe while stuffing his mouth with food, Joy pulled the chair next to her patting it for you "come on". She is such a sweetheart and u can't help the smile forming on your lips, you took the seat sitting now between her and Sunghoon and across from Heeseung and Jay, a small groan slipping Jay's lips when he saw u sitting so close to Hoon, his eyes were dark remembering yesterday's night but he wanted to take care of you today not liking how he let u go without helping. He grabbed ur plate putting a big amount of various food and handing it to u making u chuckle "i don't think m gonna be able to finish this but thank u" u said softly making him smile as well "enjoy, u need to regain ur energy".

Joy and Heeseung were talking about something but u can't pay attention u didn't realize how much hungry u re until u had ur first bite of food. "I thought u were going out this morning" Heeseung asked eyes not leaving ur face wondering what kind of excuse u'll make after he woke up to ur moans and you could feel ur cheeks heating up remembering the events that took place just few hours ago, u cleared ur throat shaking ur head "i changed my mind" u replied trying to avoid eye contact and laughing awkwardly afterwards, Heeseung grinned nodding his head pretending to believe u "Ahhh i see" he said. Joy's eyes roamed on the table "Where is Siyeon?" she asked particularly no one and Jay answered "She still have things to do at her house but she'll be back this afternoon"

"Where is Jake?" Sunghoon asked after a while and Jay was the one to answer him again "He left few minutes they called him from work"

U nodded, it was obvious that he didn't want anyone to find out, "How did u sleep last night?" Heeseung asked u and Jay chocked on his drink while you almost spit your food, Sunghoon who was taking a sip of his tea was now coughing loudly, Joy turned to look at him her eyebrows raised "are u ok?" She asked and he gave her a thumbs up eyes watering, Heeseung was laughing at the reaction of everyone his eyes meeting with yours and you could feel the heat on ur cheeks. "Oh my god u look like a tomato" he commented still laughing and u kicked his leg with ur feet under the table so embarrassed wishing that a black hole could swallow u and take u away from this place.

Sunghoon was now smirking loving to see u in that state remembering meeting with you yesterday when u were about to head to ur room after getting out of Jay's room sweating, face flushed and lips swollen ur robe closed messily and ur hair was in a very terrible state, u stopped at ur steps upon noticing his shadow turning to see him in front of you and u really tried to act normal but there was no point of that at that rate, so u just decided to do what u do everytime = running to ur room and die from shame! u hated that it's Sunghoon who caught u all the time and u weren't sure that u'd be able to look at him the next day but u managed to do that somehow. The table went silent again until Heeseung spoke again "i was just asking cuz it was too cold yesterday and the heating system wasn't working for me so i went to ask u if it works for u but u wasn't in ur room"

"Ahh yes" u lied "i was probably in the kitchen i got so thirsty and i didn't bring water to my room before sleeping" u mumbled, ur words beating u making Sunghoon laugh again impressed by ur ability to lie that fast. Heeseung and Jay were grinning knowingly, Joy didn't seem to understand the whole situation but she shrugged continuing what she was doing on her phone. U finished eating not daring to lift ur head again rushing to clean the table and do the dishes and u almost tripped, ur legs still sore from earlier if it wasn't for Sunghoon who catched u his hands around your waist holding you close, he chuckled his lips next to your ear his hot breath tickling you "are u still thirsty?" he whispered making u push him away chewing on ur lips, he chuckled again "just kidding watch out ur steps" he said tickling ur chin and leaving, making u freeze on ur spot questioning wtf was that about before walking out to the kitchen.

Jay followed u the thought of u doing the dishes while obviously looking tired not clicking with him, he insisted to do them instead asking u to have a rest in ur room, u sighed defeated and went back to the living room not wanting to spend ur time alone knowing that u'll just gonna be having unnecessary thoughts so u hopped on the couch laying there next to Joy who was watching some random insta reels and she smiled creating more space for you "what are u watching?" u asked her softly, Joy positioned her phone to match it with ur sight "just some reels" and u nodded watching videos with her while talking about some random stuff, u sighed the mic on ur back making u uncomfortable, "u should sit in the middle" Joy suggested but u shook your head "it's fine" you replied and Joy frowned not satisfied but she didn't say anything.

After some minutes Sunghoon walked to the living room sitting accross from you, his eyes not leaving ur body and u tried not to meet his gaze, his stare was so intense and intimidating and u wished he ignored u like earlier, "y/n" he called your name and ur heart skipped a beat it was probably the first time u heard ur name skip his lips, Joy looked at him raising her eyebrow but watching ur interaction quietly "yes?" u answered voice almost unheard and Sunghoon smiled, he loves when ur all shy and awkward with him, he cleared his throat before speaking "u wanna go on a date with me?" he asked u making ur eyes widen u certainly was not expecting this from him especially and u were wondering for a second if u've heard him correctly "uh?" u managed to let out and Joy couldn't stop herself from giggling next to you, Sunghoon didn't lose his charming smile making ur insides melt not even bothering to repeat his question, u looked at Joy for help, this situation almost awkward, she was smiling at you encouraging you to give him an answer, "umm... sure" u said after some moments, Sunghoon was waiting patiently and he seemed happy with your reply and Joy clapped her hands excitedly "great then it's settled" she said and u could feel yourself drowning, not knowing what to do and what to expect ur face as red as Joy's phone case ur eyes still looking at Sunghoon who didn't drop his smile now smirking at u, his eyes so intense making u question ur respond "i hope i don't regret that" u mumbled only for u to hear.

This part has been sitting in my drafts for a long time sorry :( but yeah this was not how i wrote this part originally nd it really sucks that i didn't save it but yeah hope u enjoy ^^ the next part is gonna be super intense, spoiler: it'll be both Sunghoon and Heeseung focused and oh god this duo is a lot!