#i used to post about him more as a puppy but he's doing well :3 such a funny little guy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollysilena · 3 months ago

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IMPERFECT FOR YOU (18+)

you, doing a friend a favor, have to tutor miya osamu. but instead of learning about chemistry, he’s more interested in learning about you.

WC: 5.8k (send an ambulance)

WARNINGS: explicit drug (marijuana) usage, dubcon (sex under the influence), mentions of female anatomy and female identifying reader, use of ‘baby’ as petname, this is severely under-edited i’m so sorry

TAGS: frat/popular!osamu x nerdy/unpopular!reader, f!reader, porn with (some) plot, college au, post-timeskip, smut, hair-pulling, cunnilingus, petnames, reader has anxiety somebody pls give her a hug, if you get a magnifying glass osamu has a corruption kink

NOTE: i needed a palate cleanser so i can get back into writing so thus this was born. i intend to make this a mini-series (maybe?) or maybe just blurbs/headcanon series, who knows! let me know what you guys want <3

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon,” Your friend whines, folding her hands together in mock begging, giving you the best puppy eyes she could muster even throwing in a quivering lip for her dramatic performance. “He’s a perfectly nice guy!”

“So what you’re telling me, this guy–” You begin, dumping a sugar packet into your coffee.

“Who I’m tutoring.”

“Right. The guy you tutor, who never comes to class–”

You stir your coffee. She nervously chuckles.

“Who is on the verge of failing–”

You stab your straw into the cup. She lets out a tense ‘mhm’.

“And needs to pass this final to avoid being on academic probation–”

You raise the straw to your mouth. She nervously fiddles with her fingers.

“... Needs to be tutored by me instead?”

You take a sip of your coffee as your friend shrinks into the booth seat.

“Well, you didn’t have to put it like that,” she grumbles through a slurp of her drink.

You should have known that when your best friend offered to take you out to your favorite cafe, on her, she was up to something. And you knew that when she bought you your favorite muffin, she was going to be asking you something ridiculous. The last time you were offered a free muffin, you ended up having to pretend to her parents that you were dying in the emergency room so that she could sneak out to her hookup’s place.

The plan almost worked until they came to visit you out of concern, only to find you both not there. She was grounded for another two months.

You turn to her.

“And why can’t you do it?” Your friend was supposed to be the one tutoring him, so you were confused about why it suddenly had to be you instead.

“Because,” She grumbles as if it were obvious. “I’m already busy trying to pass my own exams, that stupid research paper for Professor Takeda is driving me crazy, babysitting my piece of shit brother–”

Translation: I’m in over my head.

“Besides, everyone knows you’re a genius and you’ll pass no matter what, so why not take on a charity case in your free time, huh?”

She grins at you, not bothering to hide her obvious attempt at fluffing your ego to convince you.

“Does this guy even have a shot at passing?” You sigh, taking a sip of your latte. “I mean, if he doesn’t bother to come to class, how much effort do you think he’s gonna put–”

“He’s a smart guy, trust me! It’s just… y’know how college is.”

Right, he’s a college guy. He was probably knee-deep in parties instead of his textbooks.

“Why’s it on you to let this guy pass? I mean, it’s not your problem–”

“Well, his brother sorta said if I’d help him, I’d be invited to all the frat parties on campus this semester…” There it is.

She trails off but still stares at you with pleading eyes, and you notice her sliding her muffin towards you.

“You’re not gonna let up on this, are you?” You ask as you inspect the blueberry-crusted pastry now on your plate.

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘p’ and grinning with her coffee straw dangling in her mouth. “Does it help that he’s super cute?”

You sigh again and pinch your nose bridge. She takes your lack of response as a victory.

“Great! I already told him that you’d come by tonight. I’ll send you his address and phone number–”

“You told him I was coming before you even knew I’d agree?!”

“Well, what else were you gonna do tonight? And don’t tell me you’re gonna watch that shitty soap opera again.”

Again, you don’t have an answer. Maybe because she’s already said it for you. But it’s not shitty! It’s romantic, moving, thrilling– okay, yeah, you’re starting to hear yourself. Maybe you shouldn’t stay in tonight.

“Fine, where does he live?”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

At no point did your friend mention to you that the address she was sending you to would be a frat house.

You thought it was odd that the address was in the dead center of campus– but you figured that whoever you were tutoring happened to get an apartment with a great location. It should’ve been obvious to you that this area would be Greek life housing when you realize all the houses on the block were way too nice to be afforded by a typical college student. You have never stepped foot on this end of campus. Well, you hadn’t, until now.

You should’ve stayed home, nose-deep in the romance novel weighing down in your bag. But now, you’re standing on the front porch of one of the most popular frat’s on campus.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you sneer into the phone pressed to your ear.

“Quit your yapping! It’s not like there’s a party going on or something.” You could practically see your friend rolling her eyes through the phone.

You anxiously dart your eyes throughout the house exterior. It’s massive, obviously well-funded based on how nearly every window seems to be polished, and definitely better than the shitty dorm you lived in a few blocks away. You couldn’t help but dread imagining how many frat brothers lived inside.

“I’m gonna leave–”

“Hey brat, put that down!” She screeches to presumably her younger brother on the other end of the line. “Ugh, gotta go. Have fun!”

“Wait!--”

She already ends the call before you can say anything else, and you fume at her contact information staring back at you. Seriously, if somebody axe-murdered you here, you’d make sure to haunt your friend for the rest of her life.

You weigh your decisions– a part of you wants to bolt back to your dorm, imagining the comfortable blanket and pillow resting on your bed practically awaiting your return, or you could not chicken out and actually fulfill the promise you made to your friend.

Damnit, you knew you had to pick the latter. You’d feel really shitty if you didn’t.

Besides, you’d never hear the end of it if you ran out with your tail between your legs.

You ready yourself to knock on the door, admittedly through a few deep breaths first, and as your fist is about to meet the wood of the door, it swings open from the inside. Had you been a second quicker, you probably would have tapped your tutee in the face.

Except, now that you’re looking at him, he’s quite tall. It would be more at his chest than anything. His broad chest was covered in a tight black shirt, with strong shoulders… In fact, you couldn’t even see his face if you were simply staring forward.

“Ya the tutor?” He states simply, breaking your train of thought.

You look at him to notice that there’s a face attached to the chest you were staring at. You look up, and dammit, your friend was right. He was super cute.

His hair is dark, with heavy gray eyes– bored and lazily staring at you, dumbfounded on his doorstep There’s a series of tattoos snaking beneath his shirt and piercings you couldn’t even begin to count– you nearly forget that you have to respond.

“Uhm– yeah, that’s me,” you reply, trying to regain your mental footing. “You’re Osamu, right?”

“Mhm, come on in,” he says, sticking his hands into loose gray sweatpants…. You should really stop staring. Or at least pretend you have a semblance of class.

You step inside and slip off your shoes as you briefly inspect your surroundings. The frat house is above all else, what you expected. Minus for the fact it actually seemed clean despite the typical frat stereotypes you heard– though, you’re sure their cushy funding got them cleaning services. There’s no way a bunch of college guys living together could keep a big house like this clean without some help.

However, that makes you take note that there is a lack of frat brothers in the frat house.

“Are ya just gonna stand there and stare or come inside?” Osamu remarks and your spine grows twice as stiff. You nod quickly and follow him inside and he leads you to what seems like a living room area– some couches and chairs around a TV and coffee table.

Osamu gestures for you to sit and you cautiously sit down, as if the couch had a trap door, leading you to fall into whatever scary basement sat beneath the house.

“Where’s–” You clear your throat, hoping you can keep a firm voice. “-- the rest of your brothers?”

“All of ‘em left on a trip for the weekend, somethin’ ‘bout a party at another school, but I gotta stay back and study for this damn final.”

You quickly pull out the textbooks and notebooks from your bag and place them on the table to ignore Osamu, who takes a seat beside you. He makes you unbearably nervous like you’re about to drop on a rollercoaster. But Osamu is… He’s… stoic? No, that’s not right. Maybe calm was the right word. You wouldn’t know– you’re anything but calm right now.

No, because, quite frankly Osamu looks like he was plucked straight out of one of the daydream sequences you fall asleep to. And you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest from how fast it was racing.

“So, you need help with medicinal chemistry?” You notice your voice is an octave higher than what it usually is.

“Yeah, I missed too many classes and now I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Whatever you do, do not look at the way his arms are flexing or the distinctive veins charting throughout his forearms.

“We can start–” you flipped through your textbook to avoid staring at his arms any longer, “with the chapter on structure-based relationships–”

“Yer not who I thought Yuki would send.”

“I’m sorry?” You sputter back, and you think that your glasses pivot off your face. You were taken aback, did he think you were somebody else? Was he expecting someone else or?--

“She’s one of my brother’s friends. And my brother… Well, I don’t think ya would hang out with the likes of him.”

Oh, that’s what it was.

He was disappointed that you weren’t… someone more interesting, like your friend, or the people he knew in his frat, or…

It doesn’t matter. You should’ve expected this. After all, you’re just the tutor he has to tolerate for a few lessons until he passes his final.

But still, you feel some sort of rejection. You couldn’t blame him, his Friday night was being wasted on some nerd who couldn’t even look him properly in the eye because she wasn’t used to being near cute guys, let alone one of the most attractive guys she had seen in, well, ever.

“Don’t look like that, I think that’s a good thing.”

“I look like what?” Your hand flies to your face, instinctively going to hide it.

“Like I kicked yer puppy,” he muses.

You look back at him, and you see that he’s almost amused by your nerves. Your cheeks burn and you feel the need to wrap the cardigan you had on tighter around you, as if the wooly cotton would act as some sort of shield. But Osamu’s still right beside you, and you feel as if he’s intercepting some sort of barrier between you. But he sits still next to you.

“I like it, ya seem chill, and better than the damn morons I’m always ‘round. Yer a nice change of pace.”

A nice change of pace? You didn’t think that anyone would find your company… enjoyable.

“Please,” you laugh. The idea of you being chill momentarily makes you forget about your nerves. If only Osamu knew half the thoughts racing through your mind. “I’m a goody-two-shoes, and definitely not chill.”

“What, ya a good girl or somethin’?”

You falter. You glance back at him and notice that his eyes still haven’t left you.

“What?” You say, but it comes out more like a squeak. You’re not dumb, you could hear the indication ever so slightly tinged in his voice.

“Ya just interest me, I guess. Wanna know ‘bout ya.” You hear slight amusement in his tone.

“So tell me, what makes you a goody two shoes?”

“I, uhm–” You barely are processing an answer with the way his dark-rimmed eyes bore at you. “Well, I haven’t ever smoked–”

“Weed or–?”

You shake your head. “Neither.”

“Ya drink?”

“Sometimes. Not often. I don’t go to parties or anything like that, and drinking alone is kinda depressing so–”

He snorts. You aren’t sure why you were answering his sudden questions, you were just here to tutor him in chemical structures. But something about his presence beside you is commanding and you feel the need to comply.

“Maybe we can change that sometime.”

You barely compute what he just said before he turns to the textbook in front of you.

“So what’s this ‘bout structure activity?”

Osamu’s smarter than what you expect for a student possibly facing academic probation. Honestly, you question if he had ever needed you in the first place. He’s quick to pick up on the topics you lay out, and he probably could have self-taught himself most of the material if he applied himself.

Or showed up to class, but you keep that thought to yourself.

“That’s pretty much all of chapter five,” you say, closing the textbook in front of you.

“I honestly think if you just kept studying on your own, you don’t need me to tutor you, I can send you some videos too if you’d like, but I think that you’re fine–”

“Nah, I’d prefer if ya came over.”

He says it simply in a lazy drawl. But for you, it sends your brain into overdrive. You feel like a computer whose code has an error but keeps trying to run its system.

“Oh– Alright– I can come around sometime next week then.” You barely maintain to keep your composure. You just needed to be on auto-pilot until you got home, where you could properly freak out in the sanctity of your own room.

“Ya okay with late nights? Stupid frat schedule keeps me busier than I’d like to be.” He asks.

You nod your head. “Mhm, I’m fine being over late.”

“That too much for ya?” And there’s a lazy smile across his lips. “Ya got a bedtime or something?”

You give him another small laugh. “No, I usually stay up late anyway.”

“Ya stay up late? Doin’ what?”

There it is again. That sliver of amusement in his tone, as if he knows something that you don’t. But he keeps his calm demeanor, the one that makes you question if you’re just reading too much into things.

“Reading, watching shows, y’know, the normal stuff.”

Reading the stack of romance novels piled in your dorm until you see the sun peak through your blinds, watching soap operas until the screen asks ‘Are you still watching?’ because they assumed you left it open when in reality you’ve watched about five hours worth of television, dreaming, and wondering if someday you could attain even a fraction of the romance you see in fiction.

Yeah, the normal stuff.

At least for you, anyway. But hell would freeze over before you admit that.

Especially to Osamu, who you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of a flutter in your chest for.

“That’s all ya got planned for Friday night?” He hums, fingers absentmindedly twirling a pencil in his free hand.

“Yup,” you reply, softly. Great, now he probably thinks you’re a loser just like everyone else. You should have just told him you were going to head to a party, like any other normal college student your age.

“Ya wanna do somethin’ with me, then? I’m bored as hell being in this house all alone.”

For a moment, you think that you hear him wrong. Certainly, a guy, as hot, as intimidating, and– and so many things you’re not, and certainly couldn’t match to, was offering to hang out with you. No way, this doesn’t happen. Not to girls like you.

“You wanna hang out with me? Like right now?”

“Would ya prefer a different time, then?” His tone though, doesn’t suggest that he wants to reschedule. It’s painfully sardonic. It seems like it would be now, or not at all.

“N-no. I’d…”

For once, you have a chance to not have a nose in a book. To not spend your weekend alone wondering if that was going to be the rest of your college life. You have the chance to do something for yourself.

And something as simple as hanging out with a cute guy on a Friday night could be the start of that.

You sit up straighter and hold your head up. Something is tickling in your chest as you look back at Osamu, finally meeting back those eyes that couldn’t seem to stop studying you.

“Yeah, I’d like to.”

Something is screaming inside you. This is unfamiliar territory. This is foreign. Leave now. Abort mission. But you shove it down, you weren’t stopping while you were already ahead. New is good, you told yourself. But you still feel the urge to bolt out the door to cower under your covers.

You had put all your school supplies back into your bag and nestled yourself into the corner of the couch, making yourself as small as can be. Osamu said you two could ‘watch a movie and chill’. You could do something as simple as a movie, right?

“Ya comfy?” He asks.

“Yeah, thank you,” you say quietly, as if speaking up would take up more space in the room.

“I can tell that yer nervous,” he comments. It was that obvious, huh?

“Yeah, I don’t…” you pause to collect yourself, “usually do this.”

“Hang out with guys only after a few hours of meeting ‘em?” He laughs, relaxing himself on the couch.

“Hang out with guys,” you mutter under your breath.

“What’d ya say?” He says, looking over at you questioningly. It seems he heard you.

“I don’t hang out with guys, at all,” you replied, tone clearer now, “much less cute ones–”

Shit, shit, shit. You didn’t mean to say the last part.

“Ya think I’m cute?”

You wondered if you sank deeper into the couch, that’d you’d disappear completely.

“I mean, yeah– you’re attractive, of course.” He has to know that, right? A guy like him definitely knows he’s attractive. “And usually… guys like you don’t hang out with… people like me, that’s all.”

You’re not sure where the sudden gust of courage comes from, considering you were so anxious moments ago– but the question spills out from your mouth before you can think twice about it.

“Why’d you want me to hang out with you?” You ask suddenly, turning to him.

“Maybe ‘cause I think yer cute,” he states simply as if it were an easy answer, leaning back and looking back at the TV.

You haven’t been paying attention to whatever movie Osamu turned on– What was this? Some slasher flick?-- Something with a girl shrieking at the top of her lungs while obviously fake blood pours out of her. It’s ridiculous and you would laugh if there wasn’t a weight weighing on your mind– the weight is also sitting right next to you.

No, you can’t notice the terrible special effects when you know Osmau is beside you– warm and taking up the majority of the space on the already small couch you’re both sitting on.

You can’t help but have your brain go into overdrive over what Osamu said. Did he just call you cute and then drop the topic? What were you supposed to do? Just watch the movie and just not address it? Is this what guys did? Is that how you flirt?-- you have a lack of answers. Mostly due to a lack of experience.

You spend the first thirty minutes of the movie wondering if you were just imagining Osamu slowly inching towards your half of the couch. By the time the first half of the movie is through and the killer is on his third victim, you decide you’re right when you realize that Osamu’s thigh is ghosting yours.

Now you really can’t deny it.

A part of you thinks Osamu wants to be closer to you.

But also, he could just be doing it subconsciously.

It’s probably the latter, but maybe…

“I can hear yer heartbeat from here,” Osamu practically chuckles from beside you.

“What?”

You try not to stammer it. You fail, anyway.

“I can tell that yer nervous, relax. I don’t bite.”

No, you’re certain that Osamu doesn’t bite. But you know that he’s close to you. Which could be worse. In fact, that is worse.

It’s worse because your senses are going haywire from how close he is.

You can tell he smells good. He smells better than whatever cologne sample you’ve ever smelled in a store or magazine. He smells like– what’s the term? Musky? Woody? You aren’t sure, you just know it’s slowly becoming your favorite scent.

You can feel his body heat, warm and consuming. You can hear his breaths– low and steady. You focus on all these other things to ignore the fact he’s boring his dark eyes straight into you.

“I got something for ya,” Osamu suddenly remarks. “Stay right there.”

You barely process what he says before he removes himself from the couch, and heads out of the living room.

Your brain isn’t able to overanalyze like it usually does because Osamu is back in about a minute. Your defenses are still up. What could he possibly have for you? Your mind is sprawling with questions as Osamu plops himself right back beside you.

“C’mere, this should help yer nerves,” Osamu hums, as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.

You don’t ignore the way you feel his hands skimming over the sliver of exposed skin between your sweater and jeans, like hot coals brushing against you.

“Ya never smoked before, right?”

“No, I’ve never…” You realize that what he was holding in between his fingers was a freshly rolled blunt.

“Would ya like to try?”

You couldn’t lie, you’ve always been curious to try, especially since your friends were always talking about how ‘amazing’ it made them feel and how it would do wonders for your nerves.

You look at the blunt between his fingers cautiously and peek back at him.

“It’ll be okay, I got ya, nothing to worry yer pretty little head about.”

Pretty. Did he call you pretty? He has you?-- Fuck it, you needed something to put out the fires of your nerves.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you nod meekly.

“Attagirl,” Osamu grinned lazily. You don’t even bother to think about that comment, either. If you did, you’d be dead in a minute.

You watch as Osamu digs around the coffee table for a lighter, which is conveniently laid out on the table, as if ready for this moment. You watch as he flicks a flame to the blunt. He languidly takes a hit, and the smoke that hits the air is pungent. You’re glad there’s a window cracked open so the smell doesn’t collect in the room.

You should be studying his motions to mimic them for when it's your turn, but instead, you drink in the fact that he looks oh so fucking attractive.

He leans back on the couch, and you watch the way he tips his head back to blow out the smoke into the air above. You study the way veins flow through his neck and the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he exhales. You feel– fuzzy, warm. Are you high already? There’s a heat creeping from your chest, and you think you feel dizzy.

Yeah, you’re high. Totally. That has to be it.

When Osamu takes a look back at you, you avert your stare to your lap– reminding yourself that you’re acting odd. Cool girls don’t gawk at a guy smoking a blunt, they would– Well, you have no idea what they would do actually because you’re not cool.

And that’s obvious from the way you look at the blunt in Osamu’s hand like he’s handing you an unpinned grenade.

Osamu clocks in on the terror painted on your face. It’s so obvious somebody ten miles away could probably sense the nerves emitting from your body. You’re hoping you aren’t giving the deer-in-headlights look you usually have.

But you definitely are.

Osamu’s face softens at you.

“Do ya still wanna try? Ya don’t have to if ya don’t wanna–”

“Nono! I wanna try it.” you nearly jump at Osamu’s words. You’re a lot of things– nervous, nerdy, probably weird if you asked the guy who sat next to you in chemistry, but maybe that’s because he’s seen you write in three separate color-coded planners before.

“Alright,” Osamu chuckles as he watches you take the packed roll from him.

But you’re not a quitter.

There’s a sudden adrenaline rush for you, almost like you’re taking a shot of tequila. You pinch the blunt and raise it to your lips before taking a hit– your very first.

You make sure not to inhale much. You’re already on the verge of coughing from the taste alone. You pull it away, letting out a meek cough, as smoke expels from your mouth. It tastes shitty and gross, like you expected. But you feel good?

“Not bad,” Osamu muses, and you realize he was watching you the entire time.

Osamu looks at you. He’s been looking at you a lot tonight, you realize.

But that doesn’t mean anything.

“I have no idea how you don’t cough,” you say, as you pass the blunt back to him.

“Taste bad?” He grins lazily. His arm is still around your waist. It feels good, too.

“Horrible.” It doesn’t stop you from inhaling more of the sour smoke.

“Look at ya,” Osamu chuckles. “Like it, don’t ya?”

You’re making Osamu smile, laugh even. And it makes your head spin even faster. It’s so good.

Good, good, good.

Everything feels so fucking good.

Osamu makes you feel good.

“What are ya mumbling about?” Osamu asks plucking the blunt from your fingertips, and you snap out of it. Well, almost, the feeling is still pooling in your chest, head– everywhere.

“I just– I feel–”

“Feel what?”

You start giggling. Doesn’t Osamu feel it too?

But maybe he does because he’s smiling at you. It’s not the same giddy heart-melting feely smile you have plastered on, it’s more relaxed. But you almost could see… a bit of amusement.

“Figures ya would be a lightweight for yer first time– probably shouldn’t have given ya the strong shit, but’s all I had.”

“I wanna do it again,” you sleepily smile waiting for Osamu to pass you the blunt.

But he doesn’t. Instead, Osamu pauses to look at you again. This time he seems… inquisitive. He looks at the roll between his fingers, and you can tell that he’s calculating something in his head– then he looks at you.

“Ya wanna try something?”

His voice is low and there’s that tone of interest again.

“Try what?”

“It’s a… different way to take a hit.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you and you nod at him. You just wanted more. More of the good feeling, more of Osamu.

You expect him to pass you the blunt, maybe with some sort of instructions, but instead, he takes another hit. You’re about to ask whatever question you had before Osamu reaches for your chin and takes it firmly.

Despite your brain being foggy, your brain is working overtime. Osamu is touching you– staring at you. And now his face is ghosting yours. You’re close enough to notice the slightest freckle ghosting his left cheek. Were you always this warm? No, you’re burning. There’s a fire sweeping in your chest, your head, your face– everywhere. You’re so warm– Osamu’s so warm.

And there’s a moment where you zero in. Osamu isn’t exhaling.

You realize what he wants to do.

The smoke inside his mouth isn’t for him– it's for you.

Your lip doesn’t even quiver in the way it usually does whenever you blurt out something nervously. Instead, your lips part invitingly, and you barely even register Osamu has closed the distance until his lips are brushing against yours and there’s a wisp of smoke pooling from his mouth to yours.

Osamu still had one hand steadied on your chin and the other was caging you into the couch corner. The further the smoke spills into your mouth, the more you sink into the couch. You barely even register there’s no more smoke to inhale because your back hits the seat of the couch, and Osamu’s on top of you.

“There’s a freckle on your left ch– mmph!”

Osamu’s mashing his lips into yours in an instant. You didn’t even think there could be any more room for Osamu to close in– he was already so close to you– but you were wrong.

The kissing– it’s sloppy, depraved, even. Your glasses press against your face painfully from how quickly Osamu pounced on you, so you pull them off your face, not even caring where you throw them. You both feverishly want more, more, more. Osamu’s grabbing at your hips, his hands big and pawing at you. Your own hands are mapping the outline of his shoulders through his shirt. Osamu’s large body dwarfs your own, his weight resting on you. Your hands feverishly grabbed at him as your lips chased after the feeling you’ve been relishing– the good feeling– the feeling is pouring straight into your lips like rushing water and you’re drinking it in. It marries itself with the dizzy euphoric feeling clouding in your mind. So, so good.

He’s everywhere– you feel him everywhere. Your head is spinning. Osamu’s lips– coated in saliva mixing with your chapstick, pull you in even further. You don’t even know how you’re breathing, you haven’t gone for air in what feels like years.

But Osamu, selfishly, wants more. And so do you. So you don’t protest when you feel him rut his hips directly into yours– the throbbing bulge in his pants hitting that sweet spot you weren’t even aware was wanting for more. You moan feverishly against Osamu’s lips, the sound barely spilling out against him.

Osamu pulls himself off your lips, burying his face into the crook of your neck so you can feel every rugged heavy breath against your skin.

“Fuck, baby.” He’s panting, his hips grinding deeper into yours. The sweatpants he’s wearing, the jeans you have on, it’s too many layers. You’re unashamedly pawing at Osamu’s pants, begging for him to take them off so you can feel more.

“‘Samu, please,” you whine. You don’t even think of the nervous, shy, girl who walked into the apartment a few hours ago. She had been replaced with someone more desperate, unashamed in being so greedy for more.

Osamu doesn’t need to ask what you’re asking for, before shrugging off his pants and kicking them off somewhere on the floor. And in a moment, he’s unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off you like it’s burning you. Osamu’s already dark eyes– grow even darker at the sight of the wet spot growing on your panties and your sweater riding up your stomach.

“Please, please,” you cry with moans of his name in the absence of movement.

“Tell me what ya want,” Osamu pants.

“Wanna feel good.”

“Fuck,” he groans, before lowering his face to meet your stomach. He trails wet, firm kisses along your stomach, trailing down until his face is centered with your dripping cunt– clearly begging for more the way it clenches when you feel his hot breath ghosting the outside of your panties.

You absentmindedly grab at his hair, pushing him further to your aching cunt, encouraging him to continue– practically pleading the way you attempt to grind your pussy into him.

Osamu yanks off whatever panties you had on, and you swear you hear fabric ripping. But you couldn’t care less when you feel Osamu’s tongue languidly lick a stripe against your slit before beginning to circle your clit.

Your back arches off the couch and your wanton moans fill the empty air. You hope that Osamu’s didn’t have thin walls. But when Osamu suddenly slips a finger into your– it’s suddenly the least of your worries.

The combination of Osamu’s tongue suckling at your clit and his now two fingers pumping in and out of you sends you into ecstasy. Every nerve in your body was vibrating as your head clouded between the weed running through your system and Osamu buried in his pussy eating you out like his life depended on it. Fuck what you smoked, Osamu was the real drug.

There’s a moment where your nerves pinch together– and everything in your chest collects, all those funny feelings turning hot and heavy in your lower stomach, before you cum. And you cum, hard.

You grab Osamu’s hair at the roots with a moan– no, scream, almost reflective of the horror movie actress you were making fun of earlier, as you coated Osamu’s face with slick. You don’t even realize how much it was until Osamu raises his head and his mouth reflects glossily.

You’re swimming in the hazy cloud of pleasure for a while, until your breathing steadies and you’re settling into the couch with heavy pants.

“Not bad for yer first time, right?” Osamu chuckles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?” H-how did he know–

“Yer first time smoking?” Osamu smirks as he pulls himself up so he can sit on the couch.

“Oh, y-yeah,” you mumble, pulling your sweater down so you can cover your lower half.

You avert your gaze from Osamu, embarrassed by the lack of clothes you had on. You felt a tinge more sober now– enough to realize that it was way past the time you thought you’d stay. The movie credits weren’t even playing anymore– the TV had just gone into sleep mode. Osamu notices this too when he takes a glance out the window.

You think about what he said. Your first time was good. And maybe… Maybe you should try having more firsts.

“It’s late, ya shouldn’t be walkin’ home at this hour–” So that’s why…

“Ya wanna just crash here?”

You let Osamu take another first.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

LIKES, REBLOGS, COMMENTS, & TAGS ARE APPRECIATED + HELP ENCOURAGE YOUR LOCAL WRITER (ME)! ♡

#guys i’m being so serious when i say writing this fic made me lose my sanity #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu smut #osamu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #miya osamu x you #osamu x you #haikyuu x you #miya osamu imagine #osamu imagine #haikyuu fluff #worl: imperfect for you

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yourheart-inmyhands · 5 months ago

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Hi hi!! I was just wondering if you could write general hcs (or longer blurbs) of the Harbingers (Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano, Arlecchino and La Signora) with a dumb and naive fem! Reader? (Gn is fine) Perversions such as stalking, manipulation, and non con elements + etc. are a-ok! 👌(^◡^ ) I want the entirety of the Yandere-ness!!!

Much love 😈

hi this request was so cool!! i don't usually do more than 3-4 characters per post so i did a few this time, if you wanna swing back around and request the rest of the characters i'd be more than happy to write it for you :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against ones will, subject to unwilling experiments, delusional behaviors, obsessive tendencies, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Childe:

Oh Celestia you couldn’t be any more perfect could you? That wide-eyed, dumb little look you gave him whenever he was talking about his missions, eager to listen but to stupid to understand. He just adores you, his big hands cupping your face, squishing your cheeks to make you look even sillier. Childe just can’t get enough of you.

You’re like a little puppy dog to him, so cute and silly yet so unknowing. He can’t help but want to smother you in hugs and kisses when you’re around, doting on you and making sure no one ever lays a finger on you aside from him.

It’s when you’re not around that things are different with Childe, it’s like he’s gone haywire, feral without your company. He wears a little locket on a chain attached to his belt, it has a picture of you and a lock of your hair inside. He makes sure to keep it well protected, occasionally spraying it with your perfume or beauty products so it smells like you. As soon as he’s back home with you though he’s the same sweet, overbearing Childe he was previously.

Dottore:

He takes full advantage of the situation, subjecting you to minor experiments, most of which are harmless. Dottore always has his eyes on you, whether his actual ones or the ones of his segments. Even in your sleep there’s some variation of him watching you, settled at your bedside with a notepad in hand, camera just beside him. It’s like every second of your life is being recorded for Dottore, because it is.

He’s also obsessed with your body, giving you regular weekly check ups. He tells you that it’s normal, that all proper adults get checkups this often, even when the check ups push beyond the normal means. It’s not just the normal things like checking your heart rate and ensuring you’ve got no lumps, bumps, or growths. It extends into things like how fast your hair and nails grow, any changes caused by the experiments he does, changes in your natural body scent, and other random things.

Dottore also takes care of any and all medical needs you have, he’s become your personal doctor. Anything and everything you do is under his control, he picks when and how often you sleep, what you eat, how much daylight you get, and what you do on a day to day basis. The best part is you’re too stupid and naive to muster up the courage to say anything.

Pantalone:

This man, in all his wisdom and cash, adores how you let him do anything he wishes with you. You’ve become his little doll to dress up, style, and control. He makes you the perfect little partner, picking out all your outfits, regularly rotating the clothing in your wardrobe with new outfits, he’d be criminal if he let you wear the same thing twice.

Pantalone takes you everywhere with him, flaunting his perfect little darling to others. He makes sure to use big, extravagant words when talking about you to others so that you don’t understand, it’s usually all good though so no worries. If there is any reason he can’t take you with him, you can expect him to leave a comprehensive list and schedule for you, keeping his control over what you wear even whilst he’s gone.

He uses your stupidity against you, betting things on which of you will be right or if you can answer correctly. You’re wrong every time and he loves it, and yet despite being wrong every time, because you stood no chance at knowing the right answer, you fall right into the same trap over and over again. He just adores you so much, and he’d do anything to keep you by his side, forever.

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jensthwa · 26 days ago

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mountebank chem pt. two (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 14k (i'm so sorry).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, crying, mentions of drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, petty behavior, insults, hwang hyunjin and hwang yeji cameos omg, yunho being a misunderstood puppy i fear, yunho and reader really hate each other but not so much anymore, pet names (princess), negative mentions of body image, mention of panic attacks/panic disorder, no smut on this part but so, so, so much tension oh god these two idiots.

NOTES: hi everyone! so, sorry for almost taking a month to finish the next part of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of the stories on my masterist! i also forgot to mention before that gunho is older in this universe bc i think he's younger than yunho irl?? i'm not sure bc i don't look into their families like that lmao. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: october 12th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part three.

Yunho has never been more stressed in his entire life.

It's easy to tell and it's an issue for you. When it's evident someone is not comfortable, that's when the vipers get together and organize their attacks.

And right now, he's your date for the night, so you can't really let that happen.

The gala is breathtaking, as expected. The room is lit with fairy lights all around the roof and they mimic stars. It's the theme of the night and the beautiful dresses and suits everyone is wearing it's enough to let you know both your mother and Yunho’s mom kindly threaten everyone to follow their delusions as well.

It looks like a very expensive prom and it's pretty but you hate it. Maybe because of the overall situation you went through today or your lack of sleep but you hate it.

Or maybe it's the amount of eyes you have on you tonight. Twice the usual amount, if the warmth on the back of your neck is any indication of how much people are gossiping about you and Yunho right now.

When you walked in half an hour ago, Yunho on your arm, everyone went silent as you said your hellos and went to your assigned seats.

And then the murmurs started to fill the room slowly until they became unbearable and, eventually, you started to acclimate to them, like you always do.

Yunho is a completely different story. It shows that he's not used to this, the fidgeting of his feet and his leg going up and down and bouncing the table cloth on both his and your leg triggers something that only causes further annoyance.

You're seated (just the two of you, because your brother and his are at a completely different table for some reason) at one of the main tables, near the stage where a talented kid who, you're sure, is the son of one of your father's friends, is playing the violin beautifully and you can't even focus on that because Yunho keeps sighing like he doesn't want to be here.

Now, you know he must definitely would rather be doing anything else but, like you told him before, he agreed to this so he has to start fucking owning it.

Leaning in, you curl your lips up in feign sweetness and discreetly place your hand over his leg “You need to stop that before someone notices it.”

Head snapping back at you, he leans in as well and blinks a few times “How would anyone not—”

“They will,” you assure him, smile never leaving your lips and you hear as the people around you start to clap their hands for the end of the performance “Now clap and hold your breath because my mother has been itching to get on that stage.”

Leaning back, you get to clap for a few seconds before the commotion dies down and then, just as you predicted, your mom gets on the stage.

You don't even turn to see Yunho’s reaction at all but you do hear him clapping for your mom once everyone starts clapping too.

“What an spectacular opening act that was,” she points to the various musicians that filled that half hour of snobbery and you try to repress how much you want to cringe at that. Your mother never really cared for the arts at all “I want to thank you all for attending…”

Her voice fades into the background as you zone out, like you always do. The way of coping with the long, long events you're forced to attend to has always been zoning out and letting your body do the work for you.

You clap, you smile, you bow and react accordingly like a robot that has been programmed to do so. Like an extra in a movie who gains the attention of the audience because someone always comments on your appearance, your posture or a specific expression you made at a random moment of the evening.

Magazines, papers and social media users who don't have anything better to do are always that audience you strike to appeal to. That has always been your job, that's why your mom is using you to try and restore the image of Jeong Tech, too.

The people outside of the tinsel circle love you, the people inside of it pretend to love you and everyone gets their end of the deal at your expense.

You feel kind of bad that Yunho got to experience life outside of it and now it's being dragged by his mother to the eye of the hurricane, where everything it's mostly silent until it's not. There’s this question on the tip of your tongue, this curiosity nagging at you since earlier today.

After witnessing the hurt on his face and the indifference to his feelings displayed by his mother, you can only come to the conclusion you got their relationship wrong all these years.

The safe detachment you felt for him is suddenly teetering the dangerous line of interest you’ve always drawn in between you and it’s enough for you to feel bad when you turn to see him and catch him forcing a soft smile that, to everyone else, might seem genuine.

But you know him better than that. At least, you know his mannerisms well enough to not be fooled by it. Even if you didn’t know his true feelings about tonight, about what’s about to happen now that you hear your mother utter your dad’s name to introduce him and bring him to the podium, you wouldn’t be fooled by it.

There’s another round of applause for your father that you barely follow because, you suddenly notice, you’ve been a little too entranced by Yunho for a few seconds too long. Turning to the man who’s partly responsible for your headache tonight, you catch his speech exactly where you’re supposed to.

“... And thanks to them, we’re positioned in a place where we can help new companies navigate and grow in a market that’s typically eager to chew and spit them out. When I first came up with the idea of Kim Innovation, there was one man who stood beside me as I presented it to the board. My best friend and someone who, barely a few years later, came up with the idea of revolutionizing the tech industry as a whole, please welcome…”

Sometimes, you wonder if your dad loves Yunho’s dad more than he ever loved you, your brother or your mom. Turning to Soohyun, he sends you a smile and a look that hints to you that he’s probably thinking the same thing. It takes a lot for you to not giggle but the smile that curves the corners of your lips is somewhat genuine for the first time since you sat down.

Hell, for the first time today.

There’s cheers on a closeby table and you don’t have to turn to know it’s Yunho’s mom. She might truly love that man, which is a lot considering they did to her what she’s doing to her son.

Arranged and married off. You never considered actually falling in love before but falling in love with the man who was cherry picked for you sounds like an actual nightmare.

Thank God that’s not a possibility when it comes to Yunho.

Again, your selective hearing works wonders because you are able to straighten your spine and prepare for the part of the speech that actually matters to you: “... And now we’re even blessed with the chances of our family remaining bonded forever. I’m sure you all noticed our youngest walking in together, huh?” The room makes an amused noise and you shake your head at your dad, pretending to be playfully ashamed by the call out “It’s impossible not to when they look so good together. We wanted to let everyone know tonight instead of announcing it through a notice or the press. But I'm blessed to call Jeong Yunho, the future of blockchain engineering and cybersecurity at Jeong Tech, my son in law. Yunho, you have always been like a son to me, so I trust you to take care of my dear daughter’s heart long enough to see my dreams of officially bringing our families together come to life.”

You want to gag at the thought. You want to cry and scream and beg everyone to see right through this lie but everyone erupts in cheers for the fake relationship you’re officially in so the only thing you can do is force yourself to think about something that makes you blush and turn to Yunho to pretend you’re moved by your father’s words.

Only to find him already staring at you with the same artificial emotion. There’s an understanding in his eyes that you think might show on yours as well and he hesitates a little before grabbing your hand in his hand over the table, visible for everyone.

Your heart doesn’t skip a beat, your stomach doesn’t flutter with butterflies but instead drops at the oh’s, ah’s and aw’s you hear around you. When his father takes the microphone from your father’s hands and you’re sure the image of you both is no longer on the screen placed above the stage, you lower your hands under the cloth.

He squeezes yours before harshly letting go and you open and close your palm to get a grip on yourself so you can endure the rest of the speeches with a smile.

Your brother and Yunho’s brother take the stage for what it feels like another fifteen minutes and after that they announce that dinner is about to be served in five and to enjoy the rest of the gala and the music and the acts for the rest of the night as they step down, so you take the opportunity to get up.

Looking at you like a child that’s about to be abandoned at the grocery store line, Yunho gets up as well “Where are you going?”

“To get a drink,” you return immediately with a kind smile that’s far from honest and lean in a little for only him to hear you “Notice how the only thing they’ve been bringing us is water? That’s my mom’s doing,” taking a few steps into the drink table, you turn to him over your shoulder and speak a little louder this time “Want anything, babe?”

It looks like it takes a lot from him to not grimace at the nickname and you internally laugh but your fun dies as soon as he takes your hand and pulls you to the table himself “I’m coming with you, there’s an old lady that has been staring at me for the past twenty minutes and I’m scared.”

Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden physical intimacy you both are displaying, it takes a few bits for you to answer. At the table, you grab a champagne flute and try to have some self control but end up downing half in one gulp “Ah, grandma Park. You might know her granddaughter Sooyoung,” looking at him, he stops sipping at the own flute he got ahold of and shakes his head. You sigh in disappointment, now that no one is close enough to hear you “Of course you don’t. She’s pretty and one of the only genuine girls I know. I can get you her number after this whole sham is done.”

“Y/N, I don’t want you to play cupid for me. In fact, I don’t want to hear from you once we break up,” he nudges you softly with his arm and the look you send in his direction makes him groan a little. You both know there’s not a chance in hell of that happening but wishful thinking never hurt anyone “You know, I—”

A voice behind you both interrupts him and you close your eyes tightly when you recognize it right away.

“Well if it isn’t the it couple of the month,” as you turn, the Hwang siblings smile at you with what you can only recognize as mischievous delight. Yeji is exclusively staring at Yunho and Hyunjin’s eyes move from your date to you before he chuckles like he knows something no one else does “I couldn’t say I saw it coming but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless, wasn’t it, Yeji?”

His sister ignores him.

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I know Y/N, of course, who doesn’t,” she giggles and your smile tenses a bit, so you hide it behind your glass and gulp the other half of the flute down “But we’ve been missing each other a lot, mister Jeong.”

“It seems like you know him well enough,” you half-heartedly joke and her brother smiles at you with a complicity you don’t really want “Yunho, this is Hwang Yeji and this is her brother, Hwang Hyunjin. I am sure you know their father, he owns HW Records.”

“Yes, of course. Huge fan of his artists,” he says with such kindness you might actually start to believe him and then he bows a little “It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine!” Yeji returns brightly and batting her fake lashes. She’s so pretty, you think, but that doesn’t really work in your favor when it’s blatantly obvious she’s flirting with who is supposed to be your boyfriend.

Yunho notices it too, because his hand moves to your back and he takes a step closer to you.

Hyunjin’s brow arches a bit as he takes his actions in and then there’s that glint in his eyes, the one you see on mean people when they secure a target to bother for the day. Because that’s exactly what he intends to do “I have to say, Y/N, I didn’t think you had a taste for… Humble men.”

Without outright saying it, you know he’s challenging you. He’s testing whatever you have with Yunho because he’s a smart, privileged and cunning little shit and, as soon as he sees a crack on the foundation of your lie, he’s going to run his mouth.

You can’t let that happen. Knowing he suspects something else is going on pisses you off because it means you’re not doing something right and you hate losing.

Pretending you're confused, you furrow your brows a bit before chuckling “Is that not something to look for in a partner?”

“I was never expecting you to come public with a relationship in the first place,” he says, hands behind his back and not-so-innocent smile on his lips. Then, he looks Yunho up and down with squinted eyes “But I was certainly not expecting you to come forward with someone who chooses public education over private, for example. Should I take this as a hint that you're furthering your education in a private school, Yunho?”

He's trying to strike a nerve and you pray Yunho is smart enough to catch him in the act. Turning to him, your smile doesn't waver as you wait for his answer.

Taking a deep breath, he lets it out while he answers, forcing himself to smile “It’s not in my plans, no.”

“But Y/N did… It just doesn't really make any sense, does it, Yeji?”

Snapping out of whatever spell Yunho's presence got her in, she shrugs “No, it doesn't. Private schools are better and you don't mingle with people whose connections are useless for your future.”

Immediately, you can tell that's what their parents told her. An easy way to fool the dummy into perpetuating their status. It's pitiful and, quite honestly, infuriating.

“Useless for your future,” her brother repeats with a nod “That's an interesting way of putting it, isn't it? Kind, even,” they both nod and you swear your eye twitches a little “Really, Y/N, I have to give it to you. You always end up surprising me one way or another.”

Yeji joins right after “You have a lot of status, girl! It's really inspiring that you can overlook such a big difference in your relationship,” she says, like she's not trying to jump Yunho’s bones “I'm cheering for you guys!”

That does it. Is not the blatant classism or the fact that they are deliberately trying to get under your skin but it is the fact that neither of them has any actual indication your relationship with Yunho is fake. Meaning, they're trying to mess with your family intentionally.

Because you might hate Yunho as much as he hates you but he's still, somewhat, family.

“The last time I checked Yunho is the son of the owner of one—If not! The best cyber security company in the country,” you start, kind tone slipping right through the cracks and you hope they take it as a I had enough of you making fun of my man instead of what it truly is “A company he's going to work for if he wants to because you got, what?” you turn to Yunho, who's staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face “Two, three badges and one trailblazer award already? For that program you helped develop your second year?” he nods and your smile comes back when you turn to the siblings “And he hasn't even graduated yet! But I'm sure you didn't know that, did you?”

Yeji blinks like you just spoke in a foreign language and Hyunjin’s smugness has disappeared completely.

“You didn't know it because he's humble enough to not parade around like he owns the place, which… He kind of does,” it's your turn to shrug before turning around and placing the flute down back on the table “Oh! By the way, Hyunjin, I heard you placed second on that competition last month,” pouting you make a show of truly pretending you're sorry for him “That really shows us that it doesn't really matter if you go to a private music school or that your dad is a great producer, we can't always come on top, hm?”

It's a petty and middle-schooled argument but you simply don't care. If people target Yunho, they're now targeting you as well.

And you can't stand when people like them try to stomp you to the ground.

Hyunjin is about to retaliate but you turn to Yunho quickly, a different glint in his eyes now “Dinner is late, isn't it? Well, we better take the opportunity and go for that dance you promised me, babe,” seemingly tongue-tied, he only manages to nod “It was lovely to talk to you two, as usual.”

When you drag Yunho to the dancefloor, where there's only a few old couples you recognize and he probably doesn't, it feels like you can breathe a little bit more.

If you're being honest with yourself, you would really like to scream and pierce a hole through a wall with your fist. Your chest isn't heaving but the sensation it normally brings spreads around your body and it takes over as you secure your arms around Yunho’s neck and start swaying to the sound of an… Ed Sheeran cover? You're not really sure, you're not paying that much attention either.

“I swear I could kill them,” you mutter under your breath and that finally jolts your dance partner back to reality, because he looks at you like he can't believe you defended him and holds your waist softly, at a safe distance, a little unsure on why you brought him to dance “They're so useless, living off their daddy’s money and gloating.”

Yunho chuckles “I think you might hate them more than me.”

Squinting your eyes at him, his joke does little to quiet down your anger “Don't be jealous, Yunho, you still hold the first place for most annoying human being in my heart.”

He doesn't seem to mind the insult “You didn't have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Go off on them because they were trying to bring me down,” he whispers “Or bring me to the dancefloor, either, we could've just walked off, I mean… You're not good at this.”

“We went to the same ballroom classes, Yunho, we've danced before,” you remind him, rolling your eyes a bit “And I had to defend you because you weren't saying anything back.”

“Because I don't really care what they think, Y/N,” he explains softly and you gulp as your eyes roam around his face. You prefer when he's screaming at you, insulting you even. This soft, fake mask he puts on whenever he's in public makes you forget who he truly is: the annoying kid who played with worms on your first playdate “And you shouldn't, either. They were clearly trying to pick up a fight.”

“No, they weren't,” you hate that your experience in these types of situations is shining so much but Yunho seems clueless even if he just firsthand experienced what you tend to experience with the circle you move in “They weren't picking a fight, they were trying to catch us in a lie.”

“How would they know we're lying, Y/N?” he sounds a little exasperated as he steps softly to the beat, moving you with him.

“Because they know how this world works. Not your world, not your friends' world, but my world.”

“Your world it's the same exact one as mine,” he counters quickly, getting a little annoyed judging by his tone “There's truly not much of a difference—”

“I'm glad that at least you got to experience what ninety nine percent of the world's population experiences, Yunho, but you got away from it and forgot everything about what goes on in here,” moving your head carefully, you signal to the gala and the attendees “I need you to remember highschool and everything that you lived there: The falseness, the appearances and the cliques. The importance of money and grades and education, of connections… It all matters here.”

You shouldn't be instructing him. That's not really part of the deal and, at first, you thought he was faking aloofness out of spite. Now that he seems as confused as a free spirit being trapped in a glass bottle and put out for display, you feel the need to.

So he doesn't drown you both.

“Think of it as one big highschool where the wrong decision, the wrong response can get not only you but me and our families into great trouble.”

As the song ends and everyone claps for the performer, he lets out a sigh “I hate this.”

“It's your life now,” you remind him and that sorry feeling stirs up inside you as well. You're not one to regret decisions but it does sting a little that you didn't fight more for your stance on this fake relationship. It makes you dizzy and so you take a step away from his barely there embrace as you see the food trays start to make an appearance through the doors “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“I'll go with you.”

“To the bathroom?”

“I don't want to—”

Sighing, you step closer again and bring your hand to his cheek, thumb caressing the skin there roughly and plastic smile on your lips “Go and bother our brothers. I'm not fucking babysitting you, Yunho, you were born first so you're technically older than me.”

He pouts for a second and you pinch the skin on his cheek condescendingly. When he notices, his jaw clenches and you smile in victory.

“Witch.”

“Grown ass baby.”

You hear him mumble a whatever under his breath when you turn around and head to the bathroom to get yourself together and hopefully get through the rest of the night without any newfound and unnecessary drama.

Locked in a stall, you make sure to delete all social media apps. With the speech your dad gave tonight, there will be more speculation now than ever. You can already see the headlines and it draws a sigh out of you because, well, you hate the press as much as the next nepotism baby out there but, most importantly, you hate that the media reads your character wrong.

No, not wrong. The press usually gets the manufactured part of your personality, one that has become a part of you after all these years of perfecting it. People on social media, though? They read you wrong.

You hate being misinterpreted. Your mom once said that it was a blessing because then the people who actually know who you are will be the ones closest to you.

And that's yet to be seen.

If the earlier encounter with the Hwangs gives away anything, is the fact that you don't actually get to be yourself around anyone ever.

Except your brother.

And Yunho.

The thought of Yunho being one of the few people who know you the best brings a shiver down your spine for the second time today.

Yunho?!

You should consider making actual friends. That's so sad.

Not sadder than the way you freeze when you stand up and try to reach for the stall lock. Voices echo through the bathroom and it only takes you a quick second to realize who it is.

“Yeah, I genuinely don't know who the fuck she think she is,” Yeji’s voice is not the sweet, dumb and whiny tone you are unfortunately forced to hear everytime you speak with her and it would startle you more if it weren't for the fact that she's talking shit about you on the phone “And she probably gets to kiss him tonight and every night from here on out. They were dancing together… In matching outfits! Girl, I know,” she complains, groaning a bit “Like I haven't been thirsting over Yunho’s fine ass for years.”

Wanting to smack some sense into her again, you move your hand on the lock but she goes on with her babbling and that makes you stop again.

“There’s absolutely no way they'll last. Not privately, at least. Have you seen her lately?” she scoffs and you hear something move, like makeup in a bag and you assume she's reapplying her lip gloss or something because you can barely hear what she says next.

And you really, really wish you hadn't.

“She can barely fit in that tight dress, the hair is getting old too. She's bo-ring,” breath getting caught in your throat, you look down on your dress and suddenly you can see on yourself what you normally see on the mirror “I don't know how but I'm totally getting his number tonight and when he gets to know me that's when he'll realize she's nothing but a kind-of-pretty face and money,” she giggles “I have to go back… Yup, love you, bye!”

Heels clacking against the polished tiles of this pristine bathroom, you listen carefully until the door closes again and let out the shaky breath you've been holding in.

What's sadder than Hwang fucking Yeji having a friend she can call to gossip in the middle of a function while you don't?

Hwang fucking Yeji being able to cut through you with her words.

Getting out of the stall, you make quick work of washing your hands and avoiding the mirror while you do it. You get out, the sound of cutlery softly hitting plates and fine conversation leaking through the main door that leads you back to the gala it's enough to make you gag a little.

Like actually gag, the smell of food on top of passing by trays makes you gag. There's a waiter to your left with a tray full of champagne flutes, so you stop her with a genuine kind smile and take two from her. Thanking her, you turn to the door again and make sure nobody is looking in your direction.

You need to get yourself together, so you make your run for it. Passing the main door in a dash, you walk up the stairs that surely would lead you to a room.

You've been in this venue many times so the halls are familiar and the room you're aiming to is unlocked and with its lights on, like it's been waiting for you to find comfort in the mild emptiness of it.

There's a big floor to ceiling arched window with white curtains drawn and a sill wide enough to be converted into a reading nook if someone from your circle actually cared to read and not gossip at an event like this.

There's a table in the middle with a lovely white cloth covering the surface and a vase in the center of it. You never had a favorite flower, but foxtail orchids are beautiful and the pop of color they bring to every space usually brings you some sort of joy before you remember the significance of them.

Love, beauty and strength.

Three things you ardently wish you had but seem to lack.

Luxury is usually attached to the meaning, fertility as well but the main significance of it does nothing but replay Yeji’s words in your head and you can't even enjoy the fucking flowers as you should right now.

Moving to sit by the window, on its sill and with your back against the white fabric and the glass, you let your eyes close as you try and remind yourself the reason this event took place. Who you are, what you mean to the people downstairs and the duty you have to fulfill tonight all blend together into a big mush of junk inside your head and all you can see it's the flashes of the paparazzis and how awful you're going to look on those goddamn photos.

Being mugged down by Jeong Yunho of all people. Fucking great.

Circling back to him, your mind lands on the same thought you had before Yeji barged into the bathroom. Yunho knows you.

Hell, he might've been your only actual friend. Even for a day, that first playdate in his backyard, but he probably was your first and only friend even if it ended before you two could make proper good memories together.

That's so sad.

Again, you should consider making actual friends. But yet again, you have to admit to yourself that there's no one that can understand you better than him and even then…

He would never get it. He has a solid foundation, a bed he can fall onto at the end of the day, full with love, comprehension and genuine laughter, probably.

You've been giving him shit all day for forgetting the world he was born into but now, as you take in a wannabe calming breath and then sip the sorrows away, you kind of wish you two would get along.

Would he introduce you to his friends if you two actually liked each other? Not romantically, of course (because that's never going to happen), but would he, if you two were friends to begin with? Would you be accepted into their group? Would they make you feel an ounce loved and supported? Is that what Yunho feels when he's with them?

What do they make him feel, exactly?

“Ugh.”

The alcohol is making you sappy instead of angrier. You should be angry. That's the only way of facing things here, in the real world, in the one you actually belong to. Instead, you just feel sad.

You take a second to wonder again how he must be feeling right now. Leaving him all alone, you hope he at least got the sense in him to attach himself to his brother's hip or yours so someone can stop the vipers from getting to him and his pride.

You know how easy it is to get his ego hurt by something so silly as insulting his choice of lifestyle, his detachment from this (to them) superior whirlwind of falseness and money.

But, yet again, he didn't even attempt to defend himself earlier. It's conflicting and it confuses you a bit because… Why didn't that side of Yunho come out? The one who's so eager to back his choices up, the one who yelled at his mother back in your living room?

Does he really don't care at all what people think of him?

Must be a blessing, to have that side of you quiet and locked away. You don't have the same luck as him because, even now, as you chug the first flute down in an attempt to silence Yeji’s voice and drown out her words in your head, you know you care.

You care, you care, you care.

You care so much you try to hide the champagne behind the curtain when you hear footsteps approaching and the doorknob turns, heartbeat picking up because you definitely don't want to see your mother, your father, your brother or anyone right now.

Only to reveal the current subject of your obsessive mind, with a plate on his hand and his eyebrows furrowed before his eyes focus on your form hiding behind the table. He's tall enough to see you all the way from the door (of course he is) and your shoulders deflate as you pull your drinks from behind their white haven.

“Ah, it's just you.”

He closes the door behind him, scoffing and pointing at the second glass next to you “Were you expecting someone?”

“The grim reaper, maybe.”

“My mom? Your mom?” He asks and it's funny but you don't laugh “Well, she's looking for you.”

You straighten your back at that and take a gulp out of your flute “I've been gone ten minutes, what could possibly be so important for her to be looking for me?”

“Something about a picture with the governor's grandson?” he shrugs “I didn't pay attention to her, I was fixing you a plate.”

He offers the food and you sigh, shaking your head to reject his seemingly nice action.

“And why would you do that?” He looks annoyed when your eyes scan his form and then he uses his chin to point towards the cup next to you and then the one that you elegantly raise to your lips before emptying it.

“Is that your second or third? I don't remember how many you had at the main table earlier.”

“I can handle my alcohol pretty well, Jeong.”

Walking towards you, you take the hint and put the empty flute down on the floor, taking the second one and creating some space for him on the sill “Still, you should eat something.”

“I’m not particularly hungry right now.”

“Still…” He offers the plate again and you glance at the food in it. It’s some brown rice and chicken with steamed vegetables. It smells delicious but instead of desiring it, your physical reaction is to swallow a gag.

“I'm good.”

Scooting a little more to create more space in between you, you close your eyes again and gather some patience because the sigh he lets out tells you you're going to need it.

Nothing happens. He doesn't say anything but you do hear the clanking on the fork against the plate and peel your eyes open so you can catch him eating the food that was supposed to be for you through the corner of your eye.

It's always entertaining seeing how much of a foodie he is.

Instead, he's extending the utensil towards you with some food in it.

“I'm going to ram that piece of asparagus so far up your—”

“Okay, I give up,” the fork clanks against the plate again and he gets up momentarily to leave the plate on the table “Didn't really want to deal with your drunk ass tonight, but that's alright.”

“You've never dealt with my drunk ass because I don't get drunk around you,” you turn to him, crossing your arms. Your back is against the window frame, the way it uncomfortably digs into your spine keeps you grounded “In fact, I don't even get drunk. Ever.”

He imitates your movements “You're such a liar.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, yes you are. Do I have to remind you of our graduation party?”

“Do I have to remind you of our graduation party? I think you're projecting again.”

Especially when it was filled with drunken babbling and awkward energy, the one you can only tell is in the room by being kind-of-sober.

Yunho was definitely gone and faded, texting with someone (a friend, you remember him saying) on his phone for most of the night and then something happened with said friend (again, his words not yours) so he took your drink from your hand and a bottle from the table and made out with three boys and two girls that night.

Right in front of you.

It was traumatic, really, because you never wondered how kissing him would feel until that night.

And never again since then.

Your special power, you want to tell him, is remembering every single time Jeong Yunho looked and felt like an actual human being around you.

Like just now, for example. Getting you food and trying to feed it to you is not really something he Yunho you know would do. So…

“What's gotten into you? Pity?” cutting right to the chase, your eyes move around his face to catch any movement that might give away that you're right “Because of what you saw this afternoon?”

“Guilt. Because of what I did this afternoon,” he corrects and your eyebrow raises, his lips go into a thin line before a pout sets on it and you fix your stare on it before looking at his eyes again “You were asking me to stop yelling at you and I didn't listen.”

You hate that. This. The sudden vulnerability and the thread it's starting to knit between the two of you.

“That was going to happen regardless of you yelling or not,” you assure him, chugging the drink down and resting the flute next to the other one, on the floor “You don't have to worry about that or me.”

“Of course I worry,” the softness in his tone is sickening. The way it tugs at your icy heart strings and threatens to break your walls down it's disgusting, so you turn to him with a scowl “I worry about you running your mouth about this… relationship.”

You scoff out a chuckle “Oh, of course you suddenly worry about that,” nodding, your eyes shut closed again while a bitter and sarcastic smile curves your lips “The dirty little secret will always be safe with me, Yunho, don't pretend you don't know that. Even if you don't want to tell me the reason you came here tonight or the thing that made you not curse your mother for involving you in it, it's safe with me.”

Yunho’s voice is stern and yet it sounds like a whisper away when he speaks again “Why are you doing it?”

“Because it's my duty and I owe it to them,” you answer without missing a bit, a little matter of factly and all “What kind of question is that?”

“No, it's not—”

“Yunho, it was clearly a question—”

“No, dumbass, shut up for a second,” he lets out an exasperated breath and you look at him, very annoyed. “I'm saying that it's not really your duty.”

“Yes, it is.”

He makes a face “Not really.”

“Yes, really,” you push him with your hand on his shoulder and he barely moves “I know you're not familiar with gratefulness or anything close to that feeling but they really gave me everything I own and made me everything I am, Yunho.”

Clicking his tongue, your fake boyfriend looks disappointed at your reply “They didn't give you your brain, that's for sure,” he murmurs, shrugging “Your intelligence is all yours.”

“Well, they put me through the best schools and paid for my tuitions and tutors and programs and—”

“Acquired knowledge and connections are meaningless when you're not smart enough to know what to do with them,” he says like he can't believe you would say that out loud “And you know what to do with them, Y/N.”

Rendering you completely speechless, the only thing you manage to do is stare at him while your chest vaguely heaves and your mind twists and turns at his words. It strangely warms your heart that he thinks you can give yourself credit for your brains and, in normal circumstances, you would agree with him.

But this is Yunho and you have to say something to antagonize him, right?

“W-well, I—”

“Oh, there you are!”

Great, the grim reaper.

It's a little pathetic how quick you stand up and try to cover up the flutes on the floor. Yunho gets up as well and your mother looks delighted to find you both in a room together but you're sure it's because it serves some kind of purpose in her agenda of delusions.

“Good, you're here too. Yunho, dear, you've been splendid tonight. Did you like the suit?” your fake date nods and smiles a little and she looks satisfied with that “Good, good. I'm glad it fits you just right, not like…” her eyes land on you briefly and then go back to him “Well, not everyone has that privilege, hm?”

“I'm sorry?” he asks and his tone lets you know he's actually a little taken aback by the sudden jab (you are too, not being used to your mother doing it in front of everyone else).

It's also a little pathetic how quick you recoil when her eyes locate the plate on the table, untouched, but a plate of food is worse than ten bottles of alcohol in her eyes.

“Oh, that's why the dress looks a little tight!” she says, condescendingly “Y/N, dear, have you been eating?”

You feel it again. The stillness before the chaos, the way your body locks up in place and your mouth trembles with fury but it's unable to speak up, to tell her everything she needs to hear.

Monster. Wench of a woman masquerading as a sadistic piece of—

“I-I haven't, mother.”

“You're already wearing a somewhat tight dress, Y/N!”

“Auntie—” Yunho’s voice cuts through but she takes a few steps in his direction and ignores you completely, even if you have started to shake a little.

Feeling small, useless, helpless and humiliated, you turn to the white wall and start counting the imperfections on it. If you distract yourself, you won't have to fix your makeup later.

If you distract yourself, you won't have to hear her calling you out for “overreacting” to her words.

If you distract yourself, you save Yunho from feeling any pity towards you again. It doesn't matter if he said that's not the motivation behind his behavior tonight, you know there has to be some part of him that pities you.

Like there's some part of you that pities him, just a bit.

“Now that you are going to have to spend some time together, dear, you have to stop her from doing these sorts of things. The editors work overtime trying to hide it and even then…”

Her words, Yeji’s words, your own words that you whispered to yourself earlier today in front of the mirror, they all feel heavy on your neck, threatening to crush it under the weight.

Under your own weight.

Oh, you feel sick.

“Auntie, you can't speak to her like that.”

Yunho is not raising his voice by any means, but the tone is stern and firm and leaves no space for mistaking it as other than a warning.

Whatever that means for your mother.

“Now that you're going to have to spend some time together,” she repeats, dismissing Yunho’s warning “You're going to learn that this is the only way you can shut her up when she gets going, dear. She's a very grumpy human being, aren't you, Y/N?” you don't answer or turn and she sighs “See?”

Closing your eyes, a heavy sigh leaves you before another one follows it and soon your chest is heaving and your hyperventilating while trying to blink away the tears that gather on your eyes.

Back connecting to the wall, you look up to find Yunho staring at your mother like he discovered some part of her that's new, like he's disappointed and somehow never saw this coming but he says nothing. You also find your mother staring at you and after assessing you quickly again, she rolls her eyes and steps away.

“She’s also, apparently, very sensitive and can't take constructive criticism well,” she says and when she reaches the door, she looks at you both over her shoulder “Compose yourselves and come out. We have some pictures to take in five minutes.”

When she closes the door behind her, you release another trembling breath and Yunho practically runs towards you.

“I've never heard her talking like that to anyone, does she… Y/N, is she—” you shake your head, clearly not having the energy to explain or defend your own mother and he takes the hint immediately “I just never heard her saying anything like that.”

“You're really lucky, then.”

He quickly scans your face for something you're not sure he's going to find. You're trying to steady your breath and scare the tears away with the breathing techniques you were given in therapy.

Yunho finds whatever he's looking for anyway.

“Don’t listen to her,” he starts and, just like in the afternoon, he looks unsure of what to do with his hands, so he just raises them and lowers them before swallowing hard “You can eat everything you want and this dress would still look beautiful on you,” and his words do nothing but to raise your panic levels a little bit more. Why the hell is he complimenting you? You chest raises and falls a little harder now, your heart beats a little quicker and you whimper a little “Oh, fuck, no, I'm sorry I didn't mean… I did mean it, actually.”

“Huh?!”

“To tell you that you look beautiful! Because you do and— Fuck, princess, please don't cry, it's not worth it” he whispers the last bit when cover your eyes with your hands softly and you nod, trying to assure him you won't without saying a word “Did you bring the—”

Did you promise you were going to bring them? You don't even remember. If you did, you wonder what makes him think you would follow through with that silly promise, considering you're trying to cover your issues up in the first place.

“No, I didn't. I can't just pop them whenever I feel like crying, Yunho, they're only p-preventative,” you mumble but the question is enough to distract you, to ground you. The only thought passing through you being: don’t let them know. Don't let it show. Don't become carnage for them to pick apart and consume even more “I've been drinking, too, it's not safe to take them.”

The stillness of the room when you both shut up is what allows you to come up to the surface after almost drowning in your panic. Your breathing steadies, your heart only pounds a little faster when you feel hands on top of yours and soft fingertips caressing the skin of them when they bring them down.

Opening your eyes to find Yunho staring at you it's not unexpected, the cautious way he regards you is. You can't even bring yourself to break eye contact with him because he did, after all, just tried to help you.

Again.

And God knows you don't own Jeong Yunho absolutely anything but you can try and not bark at him when he slowly inspects your face, pupils coming and going like he's trying to read you even more.

He seems to ignore that this, and the way he saw you earlier today, is as vulnerable as you can get.

“You know what? Fuck this.”

“What?”

“Fuck this. We're leaving.”

Next thing you know, your mind catches onto your body's movements when he already dragged you to the hallway and to the top of the stairs “Yunho, we can't.”

He takes a few steps down and you follow, a little irritated.

“Fuck this and what they want from us, Y/N.”

“I can't.”

He pauses and turns to you, you take the opportunity to release yourself from his grasp and raise your chin a little. From this position, you're taller than him but not for much, especially not when he climbs up a step back.

“You're seriously going back out there after all the shit your mother just gave you?”

“Yes,” you answer right away and you can visibly tell that he's pissed at you. Only this time, it comes with zero gratification for your pride. “You're free to leave and do whatever you want but I have a responsibility with my family that I can't just walk out of.”

“But—”

“But what, Yunho?” shoulders deflating and arms dropping to your sides, it feels like you're never going to get yourself, your reasons, through his thick skull “What are we going to do if we get out of here now, hm? Get in a car, go for some fast food? End up on a rooftop somewhere or a park or whatever spot you think is cool and calm to reflect on our shitty families, Yunho?”

He doesn't say anything but the tick of his jaw it's indicative of how your words are hitting him. You're glad and not out if pure pettiness or spite, for once.

“And then you expect me to magically renounce everything I have, everything I am, because you have a little revolutionary anti chaebol spirit inside of you?” you scoff, leaning in a fraction “This is not a movie, Yunho. I'm not a damsel in distress, I don't need you to tell me how awful my mother is or to save me from her. Now,” you lean back and then take the steps down “I'm going in there, I'm taking the stupid pictures she wants me to take and, if you're planning on staying, I'll leave with you when all of our parent's friends are drunk enough that they don't notice us leaving.”

You look back up at him and he closes his eyes, indecisiveness written all over his expression.

And that's, probably, the biggest difference between you both.

But you feel some sort of safety when he opens them up again: There, pissed and all, is the image of the Yunho you know.

And that’s exactly who you need tonight.

“Please don't leave that plate of food up there,” you mumble and he's about to say something else when you interrupt him “I don't want to eat it, I just want you to go back up there so I can go inside first. The last thing I want is for people to think that I'm so in love that I lost all of my decorum in a staff closet or something.”

It takes him a second, but words come out of his mouth and under his breath “Ew.”

Your eyes almost meet the back of your head at that.

“You wish, Jeong.”

You take the rest of the steps down and then take a huge breath before stepping back into the gala.

The first thing you do is look for another drink.

And drink you do.

You only notice Yunho didn't leave after his brief debauchery of anarchy when you feel his presence next to you, his hand on yours or your arm or your hip the rest of the night (as fake as it feels, it’s a good facade for everyone who’s playing close attention so you welcome the fact that he’s not pissed enough to blown your cover off with a tiny bit of gratefulness), especially when Yeji gets too close or attempts to initiate a conversation.

You hate that your chest swells with victory when you see her face fall after the last attempt to steal your fake boyfriend.

But you don't really notice if she puts more effort into doing it. After a particular coctel, you're left dizzy enough that the rest of the night passes in a blur and you're operating in autopilot by the time Yunho leans in and whispers that he's taking you home.

Why is Yunho taking you home out of all people?

Well he's not, not really. He’s not driving you anywhere. In fact, he’s making you freeze as he waits for something, hands on his hips and everything.

“Where's your driver?”

He looks around the empty street, waiting for the car that brought you two to the gala to appear and you drunkenly giggle, back against the brick wall “Home with his family, I hope.”

“So who's driving us?”

“The helicopter, it's parked on the roof.”

He turns to you “The what?”

“I'm getting an uber, Yunho. Get yours.”

“I said, I'm taking you home.”

“Did you?” you frown as you look through the apps on your phone until you find the one you need. Quickly typing the name of the place hosting the event, it takes a few clicks till it lets you know they're finding a driver for you “I don't remember you saying that. I remember you stuttering in front of grandma Park when she called you handsome,” you lock your phone and look back up at him “Oh and you blushed just like that, too. You look so dumb.”

Defensively, he stutters out “I'm not blushing.”

You giggle again and point at his silly, stupid, concerned face “Yes, you are,” a notification makes your phone light up “My car is a minute away.”

“Our car.”

“Oh my God,” you groan, “you're a pain in the ass.”

“And you're drunk!” He points out and you roll your eyes “I despise you princess, truly, now more than ever, but it's against my principles.”

You scoff, loudly and then laugh at him, at his words, at his mask “You can stop pretending now, Jeong. I don't buy it like everyone else does- Oh, the car.”

As the uber comes to a stop, you manage to not stumble your way to it and to ignore Yunho’s hands (open and willing to catch you in case you fall) because you certainly don’t need his help. He should know it by now. He shouldn’t even open the door for you, but here he is, ever the gentleman in front of everyone else and a total ass behind closed doors.

Although today…

No. Pushing the thought aside, you ironically bow to “thank him” for his kindness.

“Buy what exactly?” He asks before you can get in.

The door is open now, yellow light on both yours and Yunho’s faces, and the driver is trying to conceal (very badly) the fact that he’s paying attention to your conversation, so you put on a smile and shrug to dismiss his question “I’ll tell you later, dear. Thanks for walking me to the car,” his confused expression makes you want to giggle again, but you save it “Text me when you get home, hm?”

Before he can argue with you some more, you get into the car and welcome the warmth radiating from the leather seat before attempting to close the door.

Only for it to be pulled open again “Move,” he says a little harshly and then looks at the drive “m-my love.”

Oh, he’s so bad at this.

But he doesn’t really leave room to kick him out of your uber when he forces his way in “Good evening.” He says to the driver and smiles at the man behind the steering wheel as well before the door closes and the car is surrounded by darkness again.

Hands grasping the seat and Yunho’s arm, you think maybe you should've listened to him when he told you to eat something. The world spins a little when the car starts moving and it really takes everything in you, for the first time ever, to pull away from Yunho’s firm arm and make space in between you like you always do.

There’s silence at last. Until there isn’t.

Your mind it’s never truly quiet, is it?

Dizzy and everything, you start planning the rest of your night and your next day. You don’t have to go into the office, so you can take care of everything at home. Okay, cool. There’s this thing you need to talk to HR about and also you need to schedule the lunches you’re bringing to the orphanage. What day is it? Ah, right, you still have a few more days to make everything pretty for the children. Is Yunho on your schedule for the week? You forgot to check, you forgot to ask. The calendar should be updated by now, considering your mom’s main assistant was not at the event tonight and that means she’s working overtime tonight. Probably making sure there’s no wrong headlines on the immediate news outlets and curating the comments on the instagram posts and—

“Whatcha' thinkin' about?”

Silence again.

Only this time, it’s because you notice Yunho’s fingers on your arm and your head snaps towards him so fast it makes you dizzier.

Nothing you care about, you want to tell him. Nothing important, nothing that would make an actual impact and close the bridge between you and him enough for him to be handling you with some much care for the umphtenth time today.

“I’m just really tired,” you say instead and, for once, you’re not lying or deflecting. You’re so fucking tired “I didn’t sleep last night. I was working on something.” Again, not a lie, even though you were working on ways of preventing this entire day from happening.

“Well, we’re a few minutes away.”

“I’m a few minutes away.” You correct in a whisper which makes him giggle under his breath and that prompts you to stare bitterly at him.

You don’t ask him what the fuck is so funny but you find out once you reach the gate of your house. Not waiting for him to get down and open the door for you (because you don’t expect him to get down with you at all), you bid your goodbye to the driver -not Yunho- and get out of the car so fast it feels like someone pressed the fast forward button on you. You’re more sober now than what you were at the start of the car ride but it still proves difficult to slide the panel of your front door up and let it read your thumb print to gain access.

“Stupid fucking thing.” You say in a distracted murmur when it wont read the print and almost let out a scream when someone grabs your opposite thumb and raises it to the panel.

It reads right away and you turn to Yunho with a scowl on your face “I hate you.”

“My brother designed this thing before Jeong Tech moved on to cybersecurity exclusively,” he reminds you “Careful with what you say about it.”

Looking at the street, you find it empty again “Walking home or what?”

“Stop pretending to not know I’m going to help you in, Y/N.”

“I don’t need your help!”

He looks at the thumb he’s still grabbing and the back at you before raising a brow “Sure.”

Groaning, you take your thumb back to open the gate. You don’t even attempt to close it on his face but you don’t wait for him as you speedrun your front garden and, when you get up the stairs to your front door, it opens on its own.

Well, not on its own. There’s a staff member smiling kindly at you. She’s one of the new ones, the young ones (younger than you, even) who won’t even tell you their names at your mothers petition, so you usually don’t insist on it because it causes them stress. You shake your head “Did she make you stay up late tonight?”

“Yes, miss Kim. She instructed me to stay the night in case either you, mister Kim or her needed some help.”

“Help with what?” you say with a tint of annoyance in your tone and you see her bow instinctively at Yunho, who you presume is right behind you now and she offers her hands immediately to take his coat from him but you wave yours so she can stop “Please, go to your room and sleep. If she gets angry because she doesn’t find anyone to help her undress tonight, I’ll deal with it.”

“But… Miss Kim, your guest—”

“Mister Jeong Yunho,” you don’t turn to him but you guess he bowed to her again because she hurriedly does the same “He’s not staying for long,” you hope. “Please go and get some sleep, dear.”

She hesitates and your face softens at the slight panic you recognize in her eyes very, very well.

“I’ll deal with her,” you promise with a genuine smile tugging at your lips “Now, go.”

Obeying, she bows deeply at both of you before smiling back at you for a split second before disappearing through the staff aisle. There’s not many staff who stay in the property after hours and the ones that do usually stay when your parents need them but you find it quite annoying.

Not for you but because you’re grown people. There’s not many things the staff do for you besides your breakfast every morning and your clothes -because you couldn’t convince your mom to let you do it yourself- but for her? For your dad? They do almost everything.

At their grown age. Ugh.

Getting into the house, you slip your high heels off and you hear the door closing and some shuffling, letting you know Yunho is doing the same.

“You’re not welcomed here, Jeong, please go away.”

“Shut up and look at your phone, will you?”

“Hm?”

Unlocking it, it’s immediately floated with messages from a new group chat that consists of Yunho, his brother, your brother and you.

The texts are very clearly written by two drunk idiots (your brothers) and one sober idiot (Yunho) and there’s even a selfie taken in the very same room Yunho found you in earlier today. Frowning, you move to the last texts.

kim soohyun: mjom and dad 4nd mom and dad are going home to have a little after party in like an horu hbtw gunho oppa ♡︎: so wer’e going otoo! hehe. stay in your room y/n if u don’t eant to deal with yaunti she’s a lil hdrunkies kim soohyun: mhm but n o funnhy business kim soohyun: oh wait kim soohyun: you’re anot actually ua thing hahahahaha @yn u loser

Oh you’re going to kill him. Both of them. The three of them, actually, now that Yunho takes the opportunity to send a laughing emoji at what your brother said and when you look up at him, he’s giggling again.

“What the actual fuck.”

“He’s funny!” He defends himself right away and you groan before heading for the stairs. The texts and the fact there’s going to be some sort of movement on the house when it’s supposed to be cold, empty and, most importantly, in total silence, it’s enough to sober you up.

“This is the worst day of my life.”

Yunho does not follow you. But this house, at this point and with him disregarding your wishes of exiling him out of your life, is as much his as it is yours, so you just let him be downstairs while the darkness of your room engulfs you. You move like that, with the street lights and the moonlight leaking through the big balcony window and toss your purse and phone on the bed.

Getting your accessories off, they clink and clank on your vanity by door and breathe a little more calmly now that the weight of them is not on you. Slowly, but surely, the stress and sensory overstimulation of the night makes it way off you as well.

It’s not only until you get to the zipper of your dress that you remember why you needed someone to get you into the dress in the first place. It’s stuck, per se, but you can’t really reach it no matter how much you bend and twist and there’s some noise downstairs that it’s making your eye twitch a little bit. Maybe what’s making it is the ice machine built in on the fridge but you also hear some pans and you find it hilarious that Yunho, out of everyone, is the first non-contractually obligated person to touch the kitchen in years.

Losing the battle against the zipper and sweating a little bit, the last wave of dizziness from all the drinks you had comes in and so you lower yourself to the floor, near the balcony door and just close your eyes.

Now that you're home, the lack of sleep really gets to you. It feels like ten minutes or ten hours simultaneously when someone turns on the light in your room and the sudden intrusion of it burns you a bit when you open your eyes and stare at the ceiling.

Yunho scoffs from your door and you hear your foodsteps approach until he’s on your line of vision, eyebrows creasing at the sight of him “You’re so fucking weird, I swear.”

You mumble your jab out “Yeah, laying on the floor in the dark after an exhausting day of dealing with your presence it’s not as weird as it sounds, buddy.”

He ignores you.

“Made you some food.”

Suspicious. Slowly, you sit up. There’s a tray on your vanity with bowls and glasses of water and you want to yell at him for putting it there in the first place but the smell of buldak invades your nostrils and your stomach grumbles in response.

You didn't even know you had buldak anywhere in this house. Weird.

“Is it poisoned?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs “why don’t you find out?”

Your stomach grumbles again, begging. Your heart races as you glance at the tray again, anxious. Your rotten mind makes you delay your words, already telling you you’re going to regret it.

But you’re so hungry.

“Did you put cheese on it?”

Yunho is sitting at the edge of your bed now, manspreading and with his elbows on his legs, his hands in between them. This coat is off now, you don’t really know where he left it at but it’s gone and his hair it’s not perfect anymore, like he ran his hand through it a couple of times. He smiles a little at you when he answers, low and teasing, like he can’t believe you asked him that “Obviously.”

You wish you could convince yourself that the gulp you just did it’s due to your sudden appetite. And it kind of is. But the truth of the matter is that the ramen had nothing to do with it.

He looks good like this. He doesn’t necessarily looks like the manchild you know and even if it irks you a little that he insists of taking care of you with this little, insignificant detail (after all, he’s going to get out of your life and your complicated relationship with food will endure till the end of times), you can’t really deny the sudden blush it brings to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat and reaching behind you to open the balcony door, you point to the tray with your chin “Alright, bring it here.”

It’s truly a shame you can read it in his face that he’s counting this as some sort of victory and, if it were anyone else, you would hate to disappoint them when they inevitably notice further on that this effort of correcting your nasty habits are futile as long as your living with the source of the issue under the same roof. But since it’s Yunho, you don’t really care.

You don't care, you don’t care, you don’t care.

The way your heart squeezes and you feel like crying when he intently watches the first bite you take out of the noodles it’s nothing, it’s just your emotions getting mixed in with the spicy taste of them and the cheese and the way your stomach finally gets some sort of relief after being partially empty the entire day.

You don’t care that he made a little bowl for himself as well. And you definitely don’t care that he’s sitting beside you, eating his food and occasionally glancing at you to check your reaction and you hate him for it.

It triggers the part of you that doesn’t really know how to behave, the same part who thought of him fondly this afternoon when he wiped your tears away and calmed your nerves. When brought you food upstairs at the gala, when he brushed his fingers against your arm in the car, when he helped you in.

When you saw his expression after his mom yelled at him. When he got upset after your mom yelled at you.

It's like you can see it: the knitting needle moving faster than ever, interspersing your lives even more and in the worst way possible, the only way you don't want it to happen is because it's unexpected and you haven’t prepared for it, because it's unnecessary.

The way your heart is beating for him right now is totally unnecessary.

“What?” He asks when he notices you staring “I know it’s not that bad, princess, I live in a dorm most days of the week,” he adds, laughing a little and you look down at your noodles again, halfway done “If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s ramen.”

“We had this or did you bring it with you?” Stupid question but right now you need to distract yourself from your sudden burst of feelings and vulnerability.

He looks at you like you’re a weirdo, again “And kept it where?”

“In that birdnest you call hair, for example.”

“Okay, you know what—” he stops when he hears you laugh and drops his argument alongside his chopsticks, only to laugh a little as well “Smartass.”

“I’m just hilarious, dude,” you say, shrugging it off like you’re humble or something “Where do you think Soohyun got it from?”

“Definitely not you.”

“Tsk,” you shake your head “you have no humor. I don’t know how mister Park stands you.”

That seems to bring the memory back. Assuming he forgot because you both had better things to focus on, he brings his palm to his head rather harshly and you cringe at the sound it makes.

“Right! How do you fucking know him, Y/N? I thought you only knew Yeo.”

“Who?”

“Yeosang,” at your furrowed brow, he turns a little in your direction and sighs “The guy I was with that one time you saw me at the bowling alley, like a year or so ago I think.”

Oh, that guy you totally didn’t remember existed until now. Barely remembering that day, you recall it was one of those days you went along with the plans your classmates had at the time. A bowling alley? A public bowling alley? It seemed like such a normal endeavor until you spotted Yunho at the entryway talking with, you assumed at the time and confirmed now, his friend.

When he saw you and barely raised his hand to wave at you, you remember the feeling of embarrassment washing over your and your cheeks turning red and then excusing yourself and leaving the scene immediately, like you were caught red-handed enjoying shit you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying.

“Ah,” you tilt your head “I forgot about that,” you obviously didn’t, but you pretend you did “I didn’t know his name, though, I didn’t say hi to you or anything.”

“Didn’t expect you to,” he shrugs it off “He asked me if you liked me that day and I asked him what gave him the impression you did,” that takes you off guard and you the noodles get caught up on your throat a little before you force them pass it and mumble out a tiny what? “Mhm, I didn’t understand either and he told me to forget it but I remember it because he didn’t even see you that well that night.”

“Maybe he’s fucking crazy,” you offer and he gives you a look “It would suit you if you friends were crazy, I’m just saying.”

“Suit me? That's crazy.”

“Did I stutter?”

“How do you know Hwa, Y/N?”

You almost ask him who that is when it clicks on his head that he’s talking about Park Seonghwa. Thinking about him, about your tiny hiccup early this morning and the acute possibility there was of him saying yes to your proposal makes you scrunch your nose in momentary resentment. Because, really, you’re glad he said no.

Yunho might not be used to this world of tinsel and fakeness anymore but he’s cut for it. Seonghwa? He didn’t look like he would last a second actually involved in it.

Good for him.

“He’s working for my brother,” you finally answer after a few seconds of staring at your noodles and sipping a bit of water and Yunho open his eyes at the new information “He’s working on his spaces and aligning his chakras or whatever Soohyun is into these days,” sighing, you think about that dumb tree he made you paint on his wall and then stare at the half finished canvas that’s facing the wall next to your vanity for a few seconds “Probably going to renovate his apartment, too. Soohyun said he’s tired of minimalism or something?”

“That definitely sounds like Hwa,” he nods and you wonder what he means by that but don’t pry “And his girlfriend?”

“The mechanic?” you ask and Yunho shrugs “He told me she was his mechanic,” you clarify before continuing “He brought his motorcycle to the building because something was wrong with it, I guess. They’re together together now?”

“I’m not sure.”

“She’s really cool,” you smile at the memory of the girl “She looks really cool, at least.”

“Yeah but he just met her.”

“And?”

“Isn’t a little too early to call her his girlfriend?”

“How the hell would I know that?” you ask and you don’t mean to sound defensive… But you do a little bit so you clear your throat and shrug one more time and decide to joke your way out of it “Should he wait like fifteen years so that his mom forces him to be in a fake relationship with her or something?”

Yunho doesn’t laugh.

You finish your noodles in silence until he groans and you turn to him.

He stares at his phone and then closes his eyes, regretfully “God, they’ve been calling me for a few hours now.”

“They found out?”

“I don’t know.” He whines, resting his forehead on his palm as he looks through some messages.

You take the opportunity to distract him, tease him a little bit if that’s able to get him off his phone “Do you know anything ever?”

“I know you’re annoying as fuck even when I make you food and all.”

It works because he locks his phone and stares at you with a pout that feigns innocence and hurt.

“Oh, wow,” you gulp the rest of the water down and wipe the corners of your mouth with your fingers before propping yourself up on your knees and then all the way up “And just when I thought we were finally getting along.”

He gets up as well “Is that a thing?” he asks, taking the tray from the floor and leaving it on top of your vanity again, which gains him a look that he ignores “Us being friends?”

“Well, no,” you turn to him on your way to your walk-in closet “We were born to hate each other and that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“We should at least try, Y/N. I have a schedule with you now.”

You don’t hear him follow you but when you turn after finding your pajamas for the night, he’s resting his shoulder on the door frame and the same thought as before crosses your mind.

Why is he attractive like this? Under the soft light of your walk-in closet and with his tie loose and messy?

You don’t if that is what possesses you to walk towards him, slowly, like a lioness towards her prey and stop just before your chest touches his middle “Is that why you want to get along? Or is it because you’re still pitying me, Jeong?”

He says nothing, eyes lidded and breath picking up along yours.

“Is that why you brought me food at the gala? Why you suggested us leaving, defy our parents' wishes only after you saw the way she treated me? Is that it?”

You want him to tell you yes, that’s exactly what it is. Because that alone can effectively kill the desire that suddenly rushes through you, unbidden and foreign. If you lean a little, if you grab his tie and pull him down towards you… Maybe he’ll reject you, maybe his rejection will kill the feeling down too.

So you lean in just a fraction.

And Yunho stays put.

What the hell is going on?

“I don’t pity you, Y/N,” he lets you know for the second time tonight “I understand you,” he says, his eyes scanning your face and looking for something. He seems to find it, he seems to be satisfied with it as well “I finally understand you and I think you understand me too. Do you?”

It takes you a bit, but you nod and he tilts his head just a little bit, like saying see?

“And because of that, you want us to be friends?”

He breathes out and it hits your cheek. Your chest heaves a little at that “Don’t you think we could at least try to get along, princess?” He asks in a whisper.

You take your time pretending to think about it like the proposal isn’t tempting, like you didn’t already answer yourself inside your head. Truly, you’re a little lost at the closeness and a little dizzy at the way his pupils seem to be committing you to his memory.

There’s this sudden tension you never let yourself feel before and your mouth hangs open a little when he leans in another tiny, molecular fraction into your space.

And then common sense takes over. Pushing him away and into your room just to move past him, you shrug “Truce until we break up, it is.”

“Truce, then.” You don’t need to turn to him to know he’s smiling.

“They updated it?” you don’t have your phone with you but you can already foresee the amount of activities you have together just to put up with the charade. He looks at you, confused after whatever that was “The calendar?”

“O-oh, yeah, uhm… I don’t see you for the rest of the week except on saturday morning and afternoon, here it says, um…” at the day mentioned, you freeze “It says: Ask her to take you with her to her saturday activities?”

“You don’t need to, I’ll tell them you were with me.” You dismiss the idea right away, pretending it’s not a big deal and moving to your big mirror to try and unzip the dress one more time.

“Why? What do you do on saturdays?”

Giving him a look, he puts his palms up defensively.

“I thought we were friends now!”

“Having friends means sharing your personal agenda with them?” You ask, beyond confused.

“It’s technically my agenda too, so…”

“I don’t know why it’s your agenda too because what I do on saturdays it’s not necessarily public information and… Oh, stupid zipper,” you look around your vanity for something that can help you get it down “And,” you continue, failing at the task in hand “It’s not really something for everyone. So I’m guessing it’s some sort of way your mom or my mom are punishing you for lashing out this afternoon.”

“Ok, but what is it?” He murmurs and you stop your movements. Yunho is suddenly behind you. Entranced with finding something that could help you out, you didn’t even notice him closing the distance in the background on the reflection on the mirror. But when you look up he’s there and your poor, poor heart picks up again.

“I volunteer at an orphanage that’s not really… Well, it’s not the best at taking care of the kids but I’m working on that,” you answer, cautiously, catching his surprised expression in the mirror “I bring them some food and toys and since it’s nearing halloween we wanted to decorate the space a little bit but the kids they’re not… Sweet and innocent,” you try to explain, gulping when Yunho raises his hands and his fingers start fidgeting with the zipper “They’ve been through some shit so they cause a little bit of trouble when people go and visit them. They’re used to seeing me but not you, so…”

“They’re going to bully me?” he asks, regarding you through the reflection with a tiny smile “I can help you this saturday if you like… It’s stuck,” the pout returns to his lips and you can only hope he’s not able to hear your heartbeats the way you hear them of your ears, the way you feel them on your throat, especially when the zipper gives in and it slides easily down the length of your body. He leaves it at an appropriate distance, where it doesn’t show too much skin and it doesn’t feel impossible to pull it down yourself, either “There.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter out fast, wondering why he’s not pulling away and time stops ticking when you catch him taking a look at your exposed skin, his cheeks darkening a bit or so you think “I t-thought you had that thing this weekend?”

“Honjoong’s gig,” he nods “that’s at eight that day. So I can go with you on— I want to go with you.”

What is this? What’s this sudden change of heart? What’s this tension, this mutual understanding, this sudden feeling of wanting to have him around for that?

Your walls are falling down and that’s dangerous.

Your clothes might fall down too, if he keeps staring at you like that.

“Sure,” you mumble out and, for the first time in forever, you welcome with a hug and a kiss on the forehead the sound of the garage door opening and signaling that your parents and his are finally home “Y-you should—”

He pulls away, awkwardly and almost tripping with the carpet.

“Y-yeah, no, definitely—”

“I’m going to t-take a shower, so…”

“Oh, yeah, you stink again, um—”

He almost makes it through the door when he turns around and takes the tray “Thank you, by the way.”

It catches him off guard, you can tell.

“Thank you for today. For showing up, for making me food and everything else.”

His smile brings that fluttery softness emotion back and you point to the door before he can say anything back.

“Tell them I’m asleep, please.”

“Yeah, okay, hm… See you saturday?”

“Sure.”

“Okay,” he smiles again and you walk to the door so you can see him out of your room and lock it like his brother suggested over text “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jeong.” You whisper and, finally, you breathe in the normalcy of your room again.

Only this time, you look around and see the image of Yunho at the edge of your bed. And again, sitting by your balcony with you. And again, when you move through the walk-in closet to get to your bathroom behind it, you turn and the memory of him leaning on the door frame plagues your mind like a virus.

You’re in so much trouble.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. This is part two of three (possibly more if the story extends that far). Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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cherrynflowergarden · 3 months ago

Note

could you write quite literally anything for marc guiu pleased

bf marc headcanons || marc guiu

an; hii ml thanks for the request<3 i did a headcanon bc they're honestly so fun to do hehe arda guler works in process!! I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING THIS LONG I MET W AN ACCIDENT 😭 POSTING MORE SOON;) we're soooo close to 500 btw;)

taglist; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-belle @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf

bf!marc who become your personal uber as soon as he got a licence.

bf!marc who facetimes you whenever he's far away.

bf!marc who will hold doors for you. be it the resturant door or the car door, he always makes sure to hold it up for you.

bf!marc who is a proper gentleman.

bf!marc who gets you flowers.

bf!marc who pulls out the chair for you.

bf!marc who always has his hand on your lower back.

bf!marc who accidentally soft launched you via his instagram stories. he just wanted to post a silly selfie; not realising your feet on his lap could seen as well.

bf!marc who mentions you in his interviews.

"well played today marc! could you let us know who the goal was for?"

"my girlfriend."

(yes that's all he's saying before moving on the next question)

bf!marc who smiles so big whenever you're mentioned in an interview.

bf!marc who doesn't want his crazy fangirls to rip you up but also doesn't want them to think he's available.

bf!marc who is a firm believer of private not secret.

bf!marc who needs you to comfort him after a loss.

bf!marc who loves cuddling with you.

bf!marc who clicks thousands of pictures of you.

bf!marc who has a picture of you in his wallet.

(he literally did the 'everywhere i go i keep a picture in my wallet' trend before it was a trend. super proud of himself for that btw)

bf!marc who appears in your tiktoks every once a while.

bf!marc who talks a lot with you and about you.

bf!marc who playfully fights you.

(will feel super guilty and go to any length if he accidentally hurts you)

bf!marc who is super affectionate. not to the point where others feel uncomfortable but he'll always have an arm around you.

bf!marc who listens to your school/uni presentations. and gives his imput on it.

bf!marc who is super supportive of your studies.

bf!marc who does face masks and skin care with you. he was a little apprehensive before but now he enjoys it.

bf!marc who takes you to a carnival date and win gifts for you.

bf!marc who enjoys the quite apartment dates more than going out.

bf!marc who starts watching a series with you but finishes it before you.

"but baby i had to know what happens next. i'm sorry :("

bf!marc who gives you the biggest puppy eyes everytime he wants something or whenever you're mad at him.

(it's so difficult to stand to the ground when he looks so cute)

bf!marc who follows you around like a puppy whenever you go for shopping.

bf!marc who lets you swatch make up products on his arms.

bf!marc who hypes you up everytime you come out the trial room wearing something new.

bf!marc who carries all your shopping bags.

bf!marc who carries your bag in general.

bf!marc who loves when you show him random things you brought.

"marc look at this kuromi pen, isn't it cute?"

"super cute baby"

bf!marc who loves to listen to you telling about your day.

bf!marc who sometimes cooks for you.

bf!marc who sends cat pictures to you and says "literally us:)"

bf!marc who pretends to be annoyed when you team up with hector to tease him.

(he loves that you get along well with his best friend)

bf!marc who is literally the sweetest boy ever.

#cherrynflowergarden🦢🌹🍒#marc guiu #marc guiu x reader #marc guiu headcanons #marc guiu x you #hector fort x reader #joao felix x you #pablo gavi #pedri #joao felix #joao cancelo #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #fc barcelona #lamine yamal #chelsea fc #football

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ilythena · 7 months ago

Note

Request: Jack and Luke go to an animal shelter to adopt a pet (cat or dog, which ever is your favorite) and Jack falls for the adoption counselor that helps them pick out the perfect pet

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM after Luke begs Jack to get a dog, he ends up lucky in more ways then one.

Fem!reader, straight fluff, no warnings! Kinda short tho, tbh I got too interested in Luke begging Jack for a dog 😭 req are open so don’t be shy to send in some, almost done w a lot of them just gotta find time to post em <3

♪ DIAMOND BOY - SZA

“Can you just hear me out-“ “no.” “Please! Just one!”

Sitting on the bed in Jacks room of their shared apartment, Jack throws his head back with an irritated groan. “Luke, I’m not going to keep arguing with you about this shit. We can’t have a dog. Who’s going to watch it? And clean up after it? We’re both professional hockey players and have zero time for an animal.”

With a pout, Luke hesitates before speaking again. “I’ll clean up after them! And I’ll spend all the time with them!” “Luke no. We have a game tomorrow. Go to bed.”

“Why am I even asking! I’m a grown man. I’ll just get one and bring it home.” “I wish you fucking would.”

Luke storms out of Jacks room and heads to his own. Immediately getting on his phone and ranting to Quinn about his problems, Jack turns his body and sighs.

“…what’s going on with the Hughes’?” “Apparently Jack said no to a dog. Luke’s not taking the rejection well.”

The two brothers glare at each other from across the locker room, Luke tightening his laces and Jack grabbing his stick. He mouths an ‘I’m not changing my mind. No dog.’ And Luke huffs before walking out.

“…..well, he’ll get over it soon.” Nico says, patting Jack on the back and he just frowns. “Why is he so insistent on a pet all of a sudden? I mean, you understand why I’m saying no right?”

“Yes, I understand. But I can also see his side. You two will come to a compromise eventually. Let’s not worry about this stuff and just focus on trying to win the game tonight, okay?” Nico says and with a nod, both boys walk out of the room and onto the ice.

Everything was going well at first, Jack had even scored a goal! But it’s like this week just wasn’t on his side. The opposing team began crushing them after the first quarter, swiftly taking out their team with a score of 3-1.

On top of the crushing loss, it was pouring rain outside. And his umbrella broke, which meant he had to walk in the rain, with his brother who’s mad at him, after he loses a game. Great.

Both boys get to the car cold and covered in water—not a word spoken between the two. Luke closes his door shortly after Jack does and it’s pure silence between the two. Jack starts the car and turns the heat up to the max before driving off and making his way home.

“Hey luke?” “…yeah?” “I’m sorry. I’ve been really stressed out and honestly I don’t think it’s good for us to be arguing over something so stupid. Maybe we should get something to eat-” bark! Jack’s eyes snap over to Luke and suddenly it feels like the car is at 100 degrees.

“What was that.” “What was what…?” Bark! Comes from Luke’s side of the car once again, this time Jack can faintly see something moving inside of his jacket.

“Luke.” “….listen! Do you see how hard and cold it it outside? Poor thing would have freezed to death out there!” “I told you no dogs!” “Look at her!”

Luke pulls the small puppy out from his jacket and you can see her shaking. Wet, cold, and obviously very lost.

“…what do we do now?” Jack whispers and Luke doesn’t answer, pulling the animal closer to his chest. After a moment of discussing what to do, the boys decide to just go home and sleep for the night.

“Hi, welcome in… how can I help you?” “We wanna adopt this dog-“ “no we don’t.”

Jack pushes Luke behind him and gently snatches the puppy from his hands, a sharp gasp cutting through the air when Luke feels the shove.

“Oh! Where did you find them?” “On the street, my brother couldn’t help but pick them up.” You gently take the animal out of Jack’s hands and inspect them for a second before looking him in the eyes. “I’ll have to do a cleaning and a check up for them, since they’re very dirty and I want to make sure the dog is healthy before I give them to you.”

Jack glances at you and when you two make eye contact all the anger he had directed towards Luke died down immediately in his throat. He quietly nodded and in less than a second, you were gone and in the back.

Another one of your coworkers came and got their information, and Jack had sat next to Luke in the small waiting area.

“…can we please keep the dog-“ “maybe.”

After what seemed like hours, you walk out with the dog put in a small kennel, handing it to your coworker. “Good news, puppy is very healthy! Bad news, you can’t keep her because she’s microchipped, which means she does have an owner.” Luke groans in disappointment, but his eyes flicker over to another dog playing through the window in a designated play area.

Jack notices this, and after standing there for a while, he speaks. “….are any of the dogs over there up for adoption?” “Yes sir! All the animals on the right side of the building are up for adoption. Are you interested in adopting today?”

“Um, yes.” Luke’s head snaps over into Jack’s direction. “That’s great! I’ll let you two look at the animals, and let me know if you decide to adopt.”

As you walk away, Jack looks at Luke and glares. “Don’t get too happy. I’m picking the dog.”

“Hello Mr. Hughes, how may I help you today?” “Hey. I know this is really sudden, but I think he’s sick! He’s been throwing up a lot.”

Jack drags in a golden retriever, who his brother named ‘Jett’ and he doesn’t look to well. Slouching and obviously very tired.

“Oh no! Here, follow me. I’ll get him onto the inspection table and I’ll check what’s wrong with him.” He follows you down the hallway with the puppy in his arms and sets him down gently onto the cold metal table.

Watching you take a stethoscope and check up his heartbeat and trying to listen into his stomach, his heart briefly stops when you call in your coworker to do an x-ray on the animal.

After getting sent to the waiting room and waiting an hour, his worried face shifts to confusion when Jett quickly runs out the door and in between Jack’s legs.

“So, I thought he had an infection in his stomach from some sort of food, but as soon as I officially set up the x-ray and tried to put him under it, he refused and went from looking sick to looking completely fine. My diagnosis is that he was trying to get your attention by being dramatic.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief and looks down at the golden ball of fur in between his feet, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Wow. So I brought him here for nothing?” “Pretty much.” You try to hold back a laugh but fail miserably, smiling at the animal and preparing the register for his bill.

“Well, at least he’s okay! That’s all that matters.” You say and Jack lets out a brief chuckle before looking down at the machine.

“150 dollars?!” “Unfortunately, He did waste the supplies used to prep the x-ray machine…”

“Back again, Mr. Hughes?” “He was eating grass, I’m concerned he’s sick.” “You said that the last time you came in.”

It’s been about 4 months since Jack officially adopted Jett, and coincidentally his owners been coming into your clinic non stop for those past 4 months.

“I’m just looking out for him, what kind of owner would I be if I just let everything slide under the rug?” He grins and you scoff with a smile before leading him and his dog into a private room so you can “investigate” the problem with Jett.

The happy dog jumps up onto the table and rolls over, making a happy sort of huffing noise when you rub his stomach. After doing regular check up procedures, you can determine that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Jett.

“As usual, there’s nothing wrong with your dog. Why do you keep coming in here when you know he’s fine?” Jett jumps on you and you can’t hold back a laugh when he jumps down onto the floor and stands in a playing position. You open the door to the dog play area and let him out to go socialize with the other dogs that stay in the clinic.

“Maybe I just wanna see the cute girl who works here.” “Well maybe there’s an easier way for you to do that instead of dragging him along with you and wasting your money.” Jack bites his lip into a smile and slowly walks closer to you with his hands into his pocket.

“Does that mean that maybe I can take you out on a date this weekend?” “Maybe it does.” You lean against the counter that holds all the paperwork and files in the clinic and take out a small slip of paper, writing something down on it before shoving it into his hands and walking back into a ‘staff only’ facility.

“ xxx-xxx-xxxx. I’ll see you this weekend, Hughes. ;)”

————————————————————————

I would have added my pink banner BUT I ran out of picture space….. sorry this ended so suddenly, I was struggling w how to end it!

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that-sarcastic-writer · 1 year ago

Text

A Love Game

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You hear a glimpse of Leon's relationship with his daughter. And later he makes you a proposal you just can't refuse

Warnings: mild sexual content, still minors dni, brief phone sex, allusions to sex, Leon has a mouth on his as always, bit of soft!dom leon, mostly Leon being a soft dad on this one, foul language (as always), no use of y/n

WC: 3k

A/N: so I'm totally in love with this dynamic! And yalls support was insane. I literally wrote two separate drafts of a continuation of these two and whichever I finished first was gonna be posted, so the light smut one won bc I'm tired atm and didn't feel like sitting in front of my computer for 6 hours🙃 so this short part will have a second part to it with full spicy time. And another standalone part with these two (coffee and other things) having some more spicy time is also in the works, so stay tuned. Besitos <3

Universe Masterlist

Leon blinked slowly, his eyes now starting to grow sore from staring at the bright computer screen for so long. But he just hadn't had time to finish this stupid report. Sure, he has had two whole days to get it done, but with a tiny human clinging to his arm every waking minute, it was a bit more complicated than he thought. But he couldn't possibly ignore his little girl when he barely had the time to be with her without having to worry about stopping some mad scientist with too much time in their hands. He didn't mind though. His little girl was more important than anything else.

Still, he took advantage of the little window of time he had now. He had given Isabella dinner a little over an hour ago. Then left her in the dining room to finish her homework. She had always been a smart girl, responsible with her homework, she never fussed when he asked her to do it, so it didn't worry him in the slightest to leave her to do her own thing. She tended to get distracted when he was around anyway.

Though, maybe an hour had gone by when he heard tiny feet pad bare through the wood floors and he saw a mess of chocolate brown strands sticking from its bun peek above his computer screen. He slowly lowered the screen until it was almost shut and he was met with a pair of sapphire eyes that were a replica of his own. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Daddy." She took a step closer to him, her eyes big like she wanted to ask him something.

Leon sat up fully, setting his laptop aside and nodded at her, giving her his full attention now. "What's up bee?"

"Can I.. uhm.. I can play with your switch now?" She asked, dark lashes batting as she fiddled with her hands. As if she had to give him puppy dog eyes for him to say yes. He kept his face serious though.

"You wanna play on my switch?" She nodded. He ran his fingers over his light stubble as if he was thinking real hard, he pursed his lips in thought. "I dunno hun, did you finish your homework?"

"How did you know I had homework?" She asked with an adorable frown on her face, it took Leon all of his willpower not to break then.

"Well I do now." He slipped a smile and she pouted. He couldn't help but chuckle at his little girl. He took her in his arms and sat her on his lap. "Well I knew before. Wanna know how?"

Her head perked up. "How?"

Leon leaned into her ear with a smile, "'Cause dads know everything about their little girls." He pressed a kiss to the side of her hair and set her back on her feet. "But yeah, Miss Pretty Teacher told me."

"That's cheating!" She whipped her head around with a gasp and glared at him. He again couldn't hide his laugh.

"Yeah alright, you caught me," he raised his hands up at her in surrender. "You can play on the switch for a bit. Do you remember how to turn it on?"

Izzy proudly nodded and skipped over to the large TV hooked up to the living room. The TV had been on, nothing playing, but just on, since Leon had intended to play some white noise in the background but never actually loaded up anything. He switched to the right input as he watched Izzy turn on the Switch. It took her a second to remember how, but she was happily skipping back to the couch with the controllers as the loading screen came up before Leon could get up to help. He shook his head to himself, but he puffed out a breath when Izzy jumped on his lap, rather hard, the little girl giggling when he groaned.

"Jesus Christ, when did you get so big?" He chuckled, fixing her on his lap so she wouldn't fall and watched as she scrolled through the games until she found Mario Kart.

"I turned seven in October, remember?" She piped up, genuinely reminding him of such an important date, as if he would ever forget. He nodded.

"I know, Izzy. I took you to Dave and Busters with Amara, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah, you're right. That was fun. We should go again sometime! Please daddy?" She turned her head to look at him with this smile on her face and her big blue eyes.

God, what did he ever do to deserve this kid?

He pressed his lips to her forehead and nodded.

"'Course. I'll talk to Amara's mom, okay?"

He watched as Izzy excitedly nodded and cheered happily before she got lost in the game in front of her. He didn't mind her having screen time. It wasn't like she had an iPad glued to her face twenty-four-seven. He let her play once or twice a week, and maybe a third if he was feeling like playing with her. And she was more than happy to spend that time with her dad.

Tonight he wasn't really feeling playing, so he watched her do her best. To her, she was the biggest winner there ever was, throwing turtle shells and bombs at practically nothing and hitting the wall with every curve, but she had fun with it, so he let her be, cheering her on whenever she finished a race, even if it was in ninth or eighth place.

Maybe thirty minutes had passed when he felt his phone buzz beside him. He took his eyes away from the colorful screen to look at his phone. It lit up with a text, and his smile grew wide at the name.

My pretty teacher.

He grabbed his phone and quickly opened the conversation. You had been texting back and forth all day, for days now, after what he considered a perfect first date, but he just hadn't gotten around to match your schedule to plan another date. So you had resorted to texting and maybe calling once here and there. But God, he was really missing you right about now.

My pretty teacher: sorry, I went to dinner with my mom and sister. And I just got home. Hru?

He bit his lip as he attempted to type into his phone one handed.

Me: It's fine. I'm ok. With izzy.

My pretty teacher: awww🥰

Me: Can you call? I'm texting with one hand at the moment.

You saw the message, and he could see the three text bubbles appear and disappear. Until they didn't come back. He mentally grimaced at himself, maybe the idea of talking to him while Isabella was there made you uncomfortable? Shit. He hadn't thought about that. Christ, he hadn't dated in so long he had forgotten that being a single dad wasn't exactly the biggest turn on. No matter how much one liked kids.

His anxiety riddled brain stopped racing when he saw your contact name pop up on his screen as his phone started ringing. He grinned to himself. He glanced at Izzy— her full attention was still on her game, he shrugged and answered the call. He set his phone down, still having one ear bud in from when he was working on his laptop.

"Hey Miss." He spoke first, his heart racing in his chest a bit.

"Hi Leon." He could hear the smile in your voice. That shy smile he thought was the prettiest thing.

"You busy?" He asked, still a bit worried he was interrupting you in the middle of something. Though the indistinct sound of TV playing in the background let him know that maybe you weren't that busy.

"Not really. I got home a little bit ago so I was just about to run myself a bath." You answered, walking back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. "You?"

Leon tried his hardest not to think about your words too much. Not right now.

"Nah. Just watching Izzy play on my switch. She's kicking ass in Mario Kart." He heard you blurt out a giggle, which made him chuckle, but what made him actually laugh was Izzy shooting him a frown over her shoulder.

"Daddy, that's a no-no word."

Leon snapped his head down at Izzy and he frowned, not sure if he heard her correctly, "What's that bee?"

"I said that's a bad word."

"What is?"

"Ass."

Leon almost snorted at the way she said the word. With a frown and her lips pursed. He didn't care if she said bad words or not. He sure as hell said them all the time, but he encouraged her not to repeat what he said, in front of other people, at least. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"So don't say it. I'm an adult. I can say them." When she kept looking at him, he placed a hand on top of her head and —gently— turned her head back towards the TV screen, despite her protest. "Keep playing your game, Isabella. Or you can't sit on my lap anymore."

All Leon could hear was you attempting to muffle your laughter, but he could hear your giggles loud and clear. He only rolled his eyes, but he had a tiny smile of his own.

"C'mon don't laugh, being a parent is hard. Are you the one teaching her this no-no bull— B.S?" He caught himself, closing his eyes when you laughed even more, now not even bothering to hide it.

"I have to! I have a swear jar, I'm sorry. I gotta set an example."

He actually laughed at this, remembering the mouth you had on you when he had you on his bed.

"Yeah, well, you weren't so pure and innocent when you were screaming—" He caught himself again, his own eyes widening when he remembered Isabella was right there and he sighed out softly. "Give me an hour and I'll give you the answer you deserve, Miss."

You stayed quiet for a second, not because he offended you, but because you needed a second to breathe and control the heat that flashed between your legs at his insinuation. You exhaled deeply before responding.

"You're what again? Playing Switch with Izzy?

Leon hummed in response. "She is. She's sitting on my lap so I'm being forced to watch."

"I'm not forcing you!"

"On your game, Isabella. Stop listening to my conversation."

"Does she have her own Switch or something?" You asked, now sitting on the edge of your bathtub as hot water poured from the faucet.

"No. It's my Switch. But I leave it in the living room so she can play sometimes." He answered you with a shrug you obviously couldn't see.

You chuckled softly, "How old are you again?"

"Thirty-eight, but that's besides the point. I barely have time to use the thing. I mostly bought it for Izzy." He wasn't lying— entirely. He sometimes played, late at night by himself when he wanted to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey. He would choose to play a game to blow off steam instead of getting drunk with his little girl sleeping in the next room or passing out drunk at some shitty bar.

"I'm very convinced by that." You snorted, making him sigh out at you.

"Hmph. Whatever. You wouldn't understand how cathartic throwing green turtle shells at tiny cars can be."

"Oh I bet."

"Daddy?" You heard Isabella's voice through the phone and your heart warmed.

Leon looked down at Izzy, "Yeah?"

"Who are you talking to?" She asked with genuine curiosity, her very glorious race tournament now over and her attention was on him.

He heard you go silent, most likely having heard the little girl and he sighed out, his eyes landing up on the ceiling for a second as he thought of his answer.

"Just a friend, bee." He ultimately decided on that answer. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being with you, not at all, but Izzy was still young, and even he knew there had to be a proper introduction of you outside of your teacher role. He actually wanted to do this the right way.

"You fuck my brains out last week and I'm just a friend now?" He heard you comment in his ear and he groaned out.

"C'mon, that's not fair." He leaned back into the couch, his forearm over his eyes now as he basically had two women all over him, pressing him with way too many questions for his liking.

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Leon. I get it." There was humor in your voice, lightheartedness and even though he couldn't see you, he had a feeling you had that gentle smile on your lips. That eased the pressure on his chest.

"Listen sweetheart, it's almost Izzy's bedtime," His eyes were on Izzy now, and with his eyes he was nudging at her to start wrapping up her game. She pouted, but didn't otherwise fuss. "Call you in an hour?"

You both had this dumb, lovesick smile on your face, if only you could see the other.

"I'll be up."

The warm water, the foaming body wash and the intoxicating smell of your favorite candle had done wonders to relax you. When you left the bathtub you felt like a whole new person. Though there still this tug of butterflies in your stomach as you anxiously waited for Leon to call you.

You sat on the edge of the tub, warm and fluffy robe wrapped around your naked body as you mindlessly scrolled through your social media for a little while before you decided to check out for the night. You nearly slipped right off the tile when your phone buzzed and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine.

"Hey, sorry about, y’know, earlier. Izzy and I are like that." You smiled at the sound of Leon's voice, now a bit hushed but more relaxed and carefree, like he now could say whatever the fuck he wanted.

"It's okay. It was cute, hearing how you talk to her. You're sweet." You smiled to yourself, and you could hear him breathe out a soft laugh, most likely a bit flustered by your words, but he otherwise didn't show it. "You put her to sleep though?"

"Yeah, I stayed with her 'til she fell asleep. I'm in my bedroom now, about to take a shower." He said the words slowly, with purpose, like he wanted you to think about it like he had been thinking about you, taking that bath. "So, you take your bath yet?"

"Yeah, it was nice. I definitely needed it. I could've used some company though." You bit your lip, testing his reaction. There was silence, then he hummed.

"Yeah? That so?" Now it was your turn to hum in agreement, your legs instinctively closing as you tried to soothe the ache between your thighs. "I'm sure you could've. Would've been nice to have someone hold you, right? Have someone leave kisses on your wet skin, say how good you're doing while getting your pretty pussy fingered?"

You couldn't hold back the moan that left your throat at his words, and your free hand instantly traveled down, stopping at your belly.

"Oh, that's a sound I'll never get tired of hearing. Fuck, you're already moaning for me and I'm not even there to give you a reason." He exhaled out a chuckle, his hardening cock starting to press against his sweatpants.

"Fuck, I really wish you were here." You sighed out, your hand itching closer towards your already wet cunt, but you knew it wasn't your touch you ached for. It was Leon's.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You whined softly, your phone almost slipping off your grip as your head fell to the side. "Leon…"

"Tell me."

"Because… I really, really, need you to touch me, hold me, ugh— I just need you to fuck me, Leon."

Leon clenched his fist as his side, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he listened to your desperate words, and the sound shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he'd be lying if he said he didn't need you, too.

"Goddamn baby," He grunted softly, his hand now brushing the front of his sweats, where his cock strained against the material, and he tried to muffle the sound between his teeth, but you heard it anyway. "You have no fucking idea how much I've been wanting to ruin that pussy of yours again. It's actually driving me crazy."

You shuddered, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. "I really want to see you too, baby."

Leon closed his eyes, biting his lip raw as he thought fuck it. He could explain in the morning.

"Fuck it, just fuck it. Wanna take the drive here? I swear I'll give you exactly what you need and it'll be so worth it."

You'd like to think you were a rational person, you always thought things through twice, three times if necessary. You didn't take risks, much less acted in a way that could be considered immoral, but for Leon? Fuck, for that man you would become the biggest whore in this world if it meant he would take you just one more time.

"Be there in thirty."

Fuck it.

Sneak peek of A Love Game Part II, coming soon

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both.

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?"

Stay tuned for upcoming parts lovelies. Besitos<3

#leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #single!dad!leon #di!leon #single!dad!leon universe

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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

Note

Thinking about Alpha Bakugou using the internet to find out how to calm down his terrified little omega darling during mating <3

I love this idea!!! Because you just know he stumbles upon the worst most subjugating blog post, written by the most pompous Alpha-dirtbag out there – degrading Omegas, talking down about them as though they’re but silly childish things in dire need of an Alpha’s help.

And you know Bakugou’s egocentric enough to eat all that self-serving shit right up like it's gospel.

BNHA ! FIC

Alpha ! Bakugou Katsuki x Omega ! darling

WC: 3.2

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, omegaverse, yandere, marking/biting, blood, subjugation + a little angst in the end

Five Steps for Alphas Mating Omegas

Step 1. Step one is simple: Talk Remember, Omegas, though a little wild and chaotic, are equally influential, sensitive, and weak to not only an Alpha's orders but our compliments, confessions, and encouragement as well. Just a few simple sweet nothings can warm an Omega’s core even when confused and stressed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, puppy~” Katsuki made sure to mouth against your neck while sucking the skin full of blooming bruises.

His large warm hands, kept like a belt around your waist, messaged the soft skin with restraint – having slipped beneath your top to feel you directly. His back hunched and hips fighting to keep from humping – feeling his mouth water and the growing bump in his pants start to ache – getting drunk with all the right overwhelming instincts, sniffing until his nose stuffed full of that sweet Omega scent.

He’s always known what you are. Way before your scores ever confirmed it. He’s been able to smell it off you ever since you grew tits – and been able to tell long before that simply by the way you scurry around with those big puppy-dog eyes of yours.

The ones you’re looking up at him with right now.

“Katsuki…” You whined, and he grunted – head too hot to formulate any other response – only getting rowdier the more he lapped at the sheen of sweat coating your flesh.

It’s always been obvious that the two of you would wind up as mates – you’ve been imprinting on each other since you were both in diapers.

Even so, he hasn’t found making you trust and accept him easy over the years.

You’ve always regarded him with that very Omega-like uneasiness – looking up at him through your lashes with your shy fluttering eyes – a little pout on your lips and a little hitch in your breath each time he makes a move.

You’re too cute like that. Making him so fucking horny.

“Katsuki?” You whined again – this time more urgently, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Giving a reluctant groan, he smacked off your neck for only a second – huffing out a rushed “Yeah?” before returning to your neck. Working the skin – making it warm and numb to take his bite.

“Can we- can we wait?” You managed to force through the anxiety making your throat snug under the threat of his canines – a mix of pleading and shame evident in your meek voice where you felt smothered beneath the mass of him.

“Wait?” He questioned with a small laugh, though otherwise ignoring you – his lips still mouthing your neck and cheek with damp hot breaths – greedy hands climbing further up under your shirt, high enough to start playing with the lace of your bra.

“Just a little while?” You urged. “Please, Katsuki? Just a couple days?” Lip quivering and brows knotted as you tugged on his shirt, trying for his attention.

He pulled off your neck yet again, this time with an audibly annoyed groan – his red eyes soaked with hunger and focus. “Why?” He asked, visibly trying his own best to consider your concern, albeit begrudgingly where his hair had become sweaty in the wait.

“I'm not ready… can we please wait?” You begged, your big doe-eyes wet with the beginning of tears, searching for any ounce of pity he had to spare – doubtful but hoping he would listen.

You’re a little silly sometimes, he thought. What do you think he’s been doing all this time except wait?

He tsked, looking at your cute face torn with timidity and nerves – thinking silliness couldn’t be helped.

You’re an Omega, after all.

He gave your pout a kiss of assurance but otherwise offered little other comfort – hoping the small effort would be enough to calm you. “You’re ready, puppy. Believe me.” He encouraged, once again slipping down to your neck – thinking if he found your soft spot, he could lick all your uncertainty away and unlock that domestic spirit he knew lived inside you.

But you weren’t so easily soothed – no longer just reluctant but protesting now. “No- please, Katsuki-” You insisted – your hands raising to pull on his shirt, even when knowing full well what little it would do.

“Puppy~ you couldn’t be more ready.” He insisted, trying to keep his voice soft and comforting. Gently prying your hands from his shirt and lifting them above you. “You just need to trust me.”

“No, no, no, please, please, please wait- Katsuki, please.” You shook your head with a sniffle, eyes squeezing shut with teeth sinking into your lip – trying hard to keep from sobbing even as your voice wobbled in the hysterics. “Just a couple of days- please?”

Katsuki started feeling defeated in his tactics, looking over your face twisting with panic and dread, hearing you beg while feeling the fight in your fists grow more adamant, trying to pry themselves out of his hold.

It was time to give up on step one and move on.

Step 2. This step is for when the first step doesn’t work: Tie your Omega up It might sound harsh, but it’s actually in everyone’s favor. Tying up your Omega benefits and prevents a lot of uncomfortable situations during mating. For example, they won’t be able to scratch and claw, and you won’t have to use your strength and potentially hurt them when trying to calm them down. If your Omega is especially wild, it might be a good idea to gag them as well in order to keep them from biting back.

He didn’t want to have to do it this way, Katsuki told himself. He wanted you to accept it as a yielding Omega should – and where he had expected you to be a little anxious, he certainly hadn’t thought you’d be so brazen as to fight him on it.

But he guessed it couldn’t have been helped, pulling the cotton rope he’d kept ready in his pant pocket – bringing it up to the small hands he had pinned to the pillow right above your head.

“I’m sorry, puppy. I have to do this.” He mumbled, starting to loop the soft thread around your conjoined wrists while holding them down.

“What- no-” Your eyes peeled open from withholding tears, growing wide when looking above you. “No, Katsuki- please don’t tie me up.” You started then, now with salted streams running freely down your cheeks. “Please- I’ll be good, I promise-”

“Sh-sh-sh, puppy-” He soothed, placing his lips on your forehead, tying one secure cross-knot after the other before fastening them to the bedpost in a neat bow. “It’ll hurt either way. This is so it doesn’t hurt more than it has to.”

He tried reasoning with you, but you wouldn’t listen – further spiraling into a complete panic with endless prayers rushing past your sorry lips. “Please untie me, Katsuki, please- please don’t do this- please-”

“It’s for your own good, puppy.” He dismissed – holding your face in both hands in an attempt to try and keep you from shaking.

“No- please, don’t do this-” You sobbed in spite of his efforts.

And in the failure of trying to lull you, he really didn’t know of any better way than what he said next. “If you keep screaming, I’ll have to gag you as well.”

And you went still.

And he realized a little too late how he’d growled it threateningly like a bark – left to watch how your pout quivered silently after – your twitchy button-nose and watery red eyes such a terrible twist to his heart where you looked so undeniably pained and betrayed whilst terribly pitiful whimpers left you, sniffling and hiccupping with hitched breaths escaping you in trembles.

He tried comforting you with yet another kiss to your forehead, maintaining the smoothness of his tone so as not to further scare or upset you. “I didn’t wanna have to do it this way…” He mumbled softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheek in hopes you would nuzzle into his palm, but only succeeding in smearing tears. “But you’re not really leaving me much choice here, puppy...”

Step 3. Keep eye contact Omegas are a neurotic and forgetful breed. Keeping eye contact will help them stay calm, especially when you’re trying to soothe them. For example, assuring them that you’re not going to hurt them. Additionally, explaining why and what you’re doing can help an Omega understand and therefore ease their worry.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.” He vowed, keeping your face cupped in one hand while letting the other fall back down to grip your waist, feeling your breath quicken beneath it while watching the anxiety widen your eyes even further. “Look at me, puppy.” He distracted, fishing your gaze up from looking down at the threatening tent in his pants. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

You tried finding solace in his words but didn’t find it much comforting upon the sight of his fangs – reminded of how he was going to sink them inch-deep into your neck.

“I’m not ready-” You repeated once like before, eyes swirling while looking deeply into his, trying to latch onto anything that might take pity enough to listen to you.

But it didn’t seem like any amount of your pleading words or teary trembling features was enough to reach him. “It’s okay, puppy~ I’ll help you get ready~” Is what he answered instead – nose nuzzling against yours in his own attempt at convincing you. “I’m gonna make you feel really good…”

You weren’t swayed, feeling ignored and suffocated and overwhelmed because of it. “But-” You tried again, only to once again get cut off.

“Shh- stop thinking so much.” He shushed you, still with his thumb rubbing gently over your cheek. “Listen to me, puppy. You know I would never do anything to hurt you, right?”

The question was left hanging without an answer for a moment longer than what he was comfortable with – his brows furrowing at the way your eyes skittered to avoid contact with his – feeling something twist in his chest at how you shifted uncomfortably beneath him.

“Right?” He repeated a beat later, his red eyes big and searching while vying for your gaze – gutted when you looked further away to escape it.

The quiet that followed felt strangling, and he had to swallow thickly to prevent choking on it.

He thought you trusted him more, but your silence spoke loudly. Suddenly he felt like what he was doing was something much worse than what it was…

He’s only doing this to help you, but you’re treating it like he’s committing a callous crime.

He knows he’s not always been the best mating material, but he’d thought you’d seen the change in him the last year.

But… you’re still terrified of him, aren’t you?

He exhaled a breath he’d been holding and resumed the normal pace. “I love you, puppy.” Once again, he brushed the well of tears forming beneath your eyes away with the stroke of his thumb – as the other hand continued its path, now moving downwards, over your skirt, until brushing your naked and trembling thigh. “You know that.” He spoke in a tone devoid of brass, simply tender yet hot, brushing your lips with his. “I’ve always loved you.”

You made unsure sounds but kept any words to yourself – unable to deny how his confessions made your cheeks heat, yet still left feeling dubious – lashes fluttering upon downcast eyes, feeling the rough fissures of his warm fingertips brush upwards, hiking your skirt up in its path until fingering the dainty lace of your panty line.

“All I want is to keep you safe.” He murmured, now in a damp whisper smeared wet against your neck, where he returned like before, kissing the same spot while searching for the place that would make you weak. “I’d never hurt you…”

His finger curled around the lace kept at your hip, and your fingers curled into your palms – knuckles whitening and joints aching in your trembling fists when he began pulling the dainty article down your thigh.

“But-” You couldn’t help but plead, feeling the air ride under your skirt to lick your exposed private – but the protest was left unvoiced as the hand kept on your cheek locked over your mouth instead.

“Shh-” Katsuki continued, his mouth and lips and tongue and teeth lathering your neck with growing desperation – a breathy growl in his voice now as the hand kept between your legs grew clammy from the heat. “No more buts and don’ts. No more silly fears.” He swallowed thickly to keep from drooling, sucking in a breath. “I promise, puppy, you’ll feel a lot better after letting me do this.”

Step 4. Next to last: Put yourself in your Omega’s shoes It’s important to remember that Omegas feel things differently than Alphas. While we smell sweet and fertile Omega pheromones, they smell threatening Alpha pheromones. Moreover, being smaller and weaker than your mate can't be easy. It’s natural for them to feel scared and hopeless. And as an Alpha, it’s your responsibility to ensure your Omega feels safe, protected, and taken care of.

Your whimpers buzzed against his palm as he cupped your sex with the other, his thick fingers stroking the tender puff of pussylips there, feeling the softness with curiosity.

“I know, puppy.” He soothed in a strained whisper. “You’re scared, you’re confused, you’re tired.” His breath getting heavy when delving between the folds to feel the wet heat there, needing to bite his tongue to keep from growling out a curse. “It must be exhausting being on alert every day… acting like something you’re not.”

You trembled, tasting the salt of his hand on your tongue where muffled cries failed to reach him – thighs quaking around the thick arm prying them apart – breaths erratic, feeling his fingers touch and explore and play in the slick found there.

“I wanna help you, puppy…” He insisted – but the smirk inching up his face wasn’t convincing, nor the way you felt it graze your throat like a knife. “I’ll make you feel so soft and safe- I promise, puppy.”

Step 5. Finally: Find the soft spot and bite it Keep in mind that you’re not saving or helping anyone by not claiming your Omega. Despite how much they might be crying or begging you to stop, marking them will only help them in the end.

Panic made you feel inclined to bite the hand smothering you and kick the weight which had you trapped – but something more instinctual made your body burst open like a blooming flower as his lips finally found that terribly delicate spot, the one hidden just beneath your ear.

You gave a moan and felt everything unknot, smoothing out into something numb and mellow – into something which welcomed his mouth and the promise of teeth within it.

“There you go, puppy~” He hummed, feeling you go slack and cuddly, turning into something even softer beneath him. “Just like I promised~”

He lifted his hand from your mouth, watching you pant in heat – having turned into something all too vulnerable – eyebrows cinched, and spit-slicked lips parted with soft moans while his fingers swept through your slit, rubbing circles into your budding clit – making your hips timidly buck back in chase of the pleasure.

“We’re gonna be perfect, puppy~” He purred, mouth still hooked onto that same spot that had you feeling all manors of fluffy – while his own hips stuttered in restraint as his other hand dove down alongside the other in order to unzip his own pants. “No more pills and suppressants- no more holding back-”

He tugged himself free, pushing his pants and boxer down to where he knelt – letting loose a long hefty sigh of relief against your neck while stroking himself against your cunt. Exchanging hands to rub himself with your wetness – breath stuttering with a groan – getting ready to enter you while his teeth sharpened for blood.

“Every time you get you’re little bellyache, I’ll breed you good and full…”

He pressed inside you in the same moment his teeth bit into your neck – swiftly, yet slowing, sinking in as deep as possible with ears too hot to hear you scream.

Large paws squeezed even tighter into plush handfuls of flesh, drawing claws at the blinding taste of blood rushing out of freshly split skin, pouring into his receiving mouth where a full eclipse occurred in his mind, making him go fully feral.

Benefits of the bite: - their ruts/heats won’t affect anyone other than you (meaning they’ll permanently stop being a target to other Alphas) - moreover, regarding ruts/heats, they’ll feel grateful for having someone they can always trust to help them at that vulnerable time of the month - they’ll become more domestic, feeling safer and happier for it - and because of the above, they’ll be less prone to stress and fear (all of which will improve their mental health) - additionally, the newfound sense of safety and loyalty will indict maternal instincts (making them more joyed over the idea of having pups) - furthermore, having pups will give them a sense of purpose and drive (allowing them to finally feel complete)

His senses came back to him slowly as the wild rush of blood died down – leaving him cold – feeling your limp body lay weak in his arms – barely breathing – if one could at all call it such and not whispy whimpers which left you at the labored rise and fall of your withering chest.

The blood was everywhere.

Sticky on his face and chest and hands, and redder than he could’ve imagined – coated thickly on your skin – gushing in wild flows from the gaping wound he’d ripped open on your neck.

He'd lost control.

His breath shuddered, dry in his throat – which croaked when he tried opening his mouth. “You’ll be okay, puppy-” His hands shook – speaking as if trying to convince himself more than you – unsure if you could even hear him. “It’ll be okay-”

Tired eyes seemed too heavy to stay open, with a glazed gaze that stared straight passed him – vision spotted and darkening quickly, fuzzy and just too slipping to hold onto.

You could only hum weakly as everything became blanketed – his voice giving way to an echo of unstable curse words and muted utterings of your name – soon to become simple shapeless sounds in the lulling void that enveloped your mind.

With every sense laying to rest, a sudden foreign warmth coaxed you to give in – to let yourself be smothered in something which felt akin to sleep yet seemed somewhat heavier – luring you away from the blurring sight of red eyes and red-stained skin and into the quiet comfort of dreamy drowning darkness.

tip-jar: Kofi

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brainddeadd · 2 months ago

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About damn time

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Jack Hughes x fem!reader (platonic), Luke Hughes x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: fluff, angst, fan hate, pining, jack calls reader "bub", Jack's a menace, Nico shows up cause he's the loml

You grew up with the Hughes brothers

At two months younger than Jack, you blended in with their tight-knit group

You met the Hughes brothers when you and Jack were 7. He shoved a kid in the playground for being mean to you, even though you were going to let it go, and the rest was history.

Jack became more like a twin than a friend. You two were inseparable. You were the calm to his storm.

Luke worshipped the ground you walked on. Followed you around like a lost puppy, and often, when he was having an off day, you were the only person who could calm him down. His own personal sanctuary from the world.

Quinn was the older, quiet brother who was always polite and friendly, but to anyone on the outside looking in, you guys just didn't work together well. However, they couldn't be more wrong. You quickly became each others solace in the chaos of their lives.

You went to every game you could, wearing the number of whichever brother was playing that time. Always in the stands, you were their biggest supporter, so it wasn't a surprise when you were invited to Quinn's draft.

Politely clapping and cheering with their families, fans started to be critical of your appearance and your actions. Rumours started to spread that you weren't interested in hockey, only wanted the money and fame that came along with being close to the Hughes brothers. They assume you're a bitch, instead of shy.

Jack shuts that shit down.

jackhughes: it has come to my attention that people are being little bitches towards my twin. that stops now.

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The other brothers repost the pictures to their own instagrams, and the hate dies down slightly. You make a new private, personal instagram.

Jack's draft comes and goes, and you're accepted into the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. Quinn is over the moon but hides it. Jack mopes for 3 days.

Quinn asks you to move in with him while you get settled into Vancouver. He says it's to help you, but Jack and Luke know better.

Fans start to photograph you at Quinn's games, a blank look on your face, and the rumours start up again. You ignore it until they say you're a puck bunny who's fucked your way through the brothers and will move on to other players eventually.

Quinn finds you crying. He can feel his heart break in his chest at the tears streaming down your face and the way your mascara is smudged around your eyes.

_quinnhughes: my best friend. my favourite supporter.

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Fans change their tune after Quinn's post, suddenly deciding that they love the idea of you two together. They think his use of "my" was a declaration.

The thought of being Quinn's makes your heart flutter, but you keep quiet.

Little do you know, Quinn feels the same.

Luke gets drafted and goes to New Jersey with Jack, where they're left alone to scheme and form a plan to get their big brother to finally get the girl.

"You sure about this?" Luke asked, his finger overing over the call button on your contact.

"Dude I'm telling you, they just need a lil push in the right direction."

"Uhh, this is more of a check into the boards." Nico's voice chimes from his places on the younger boys' couch.

"Just call her!" Jack ushers Luke away, firing off a text when he hears your voice through the phone.

Jack: yo quinn, is bub ok?

Quinn: yes ? I think ?

Quinn: I'm at practice

Quinn: wait

Quinn: whys she not answering her phone

Jack: idk man

Jack: I can't get through to her

Jack: neither can Luke

Quinn: she's supposed to be at home

Quinn: wait

Jack's phone remains silent for ages until he hears a commotion on the other end of the line from Luke's phone. Quinn's yelling, and Jack winces at the panicked edge to his voice.

"I'm here, Quinny," your voice is soft and gentle, confusion lacing your tone, and Jack can hear the sigh his brother heaves, picture the way his shoulders must fall in relief. "What's wrong?"

Luke chooses that moment to hang up.

"Bro!"

"I don't wanna hear that!"

It's two hours later when Jack receives a text from Quinn. It's a photo of your legs resting on Quinn's, hands entwined. The caption reads:

We've been dating for months dumbass

Jack's offended that neither of you told him and takes it upon himself to get revenge.

jackhughes: you're welcome for shoving the kid when we were 7. without me, you'd never have met.

congrats losers

tagged: yourusername, _quinnhughes

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#quinn hughes x reader #° braindead writes #nhl x reader #ice hockey x reader #jack hughes x platonic!reader #luke hughes x platonic!reader

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plussizefantasia · 4 months ago

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Date Day

Summary: You plan a date day for you and your boys. It goes to plan... mostly.

Pairing: Stucky x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ Content ahead! Other than that, reader has female pronouns and some nicknames (sugar, sweetheart) It's mostly fluff though not gonna lie.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Woohoo! This is my submission for Essie's Summer Lovin' 300 follower celebration! @bigtreefest is one of my writing inspirations and I wanted to celebrate with her <3 Congrats, Essie on 300 followers, here's to the next 300 and even more after that!

There are also a lot of firsts for me in this one, first time posting something smutty, first time writing for more than one love interest and I think I did a pretty damn good job so I hope you all like it!

You loved to spoil your boys, it wasn't very often that they would let you but when you managed to convince them to let you take the reigns on date night, it always turned out very well. Steve and Bucky were never easy to convince. They loved to take care of you and wanted you to just be able to let go with them; not having to worry about anything when it was the three of you.

However, you had finally managed to get the boys to relax for one day. One whole day that you were going to plan to a T. All three of you had work off, the boys weren’t likely to be called in anytime soon and you were so looking forward to it.

The day would start softly, the boys were early risers and you were a light sleeper so you had no worries of sleeping in necessarily. They woke you up with soft kisses spread across your body. Bucky always slept at your back. It was the side in between you and the door and he slept better knowing he could keep the two of you safe. Steve usually slept at your front, most of the time with his head resting on your chest and his arms wrapped around your hips. `

Steve wakes first, still wrapped in your arms with one of his hands clutched in Bucky’s behind your back. He peppers kisses on your chest where his head rests and begins to pull himself up closer to your head. His movement wakes Bucky and he tightens his grip on Steve’s hand, bringing it closer to his mouth and placing a single kiss on his still scraped-up knuckles before releasing it and rolling onto his back.

Your eyes flutter open slowly, the feeling of Steve’s lips along your skin making a smile spread across your face. “Morning baby,” You whisper to him, threading your fingers through his hair, mussing it up more than it already was.

“What about me?” Bucky reaches an arm around you and pulls you closer to his chest, away from Steve. Steve glares at him before making a slew of grumpy noises as he scoots closer to you once more. You can’t help but giggle at the scene of your overgrown puppy of a boyfriend pouting like a kid.

“Relax boys, I have more than enough sugar to go around.” You place a kiss on Steve’s head before turning your torso and planting one on Bucky’s waiting lips too.

“Yeah, Sugar? You got enough to go around?” Steve’s lips curve up into a devilish smirk and he begins running his hand up the outside of your thigh, wiggling his eyebrows. Bucky picks up the memo quickly and soon you have both boys running their hand all over your body.

“Down boys, I have planned a whole day for us and I refuse to let you seduce me into staying in bed all day.” You said, no fire behind your words.

“Who said anything about all day Sugar? How about just the next thirty minutes.” Bucky moves his hand up to the side of your neck, turning your head so you are looking at him. Steve coughs in the back of his throat from his position, still propped against your tummy and very much still caressing any and all skin he can get his hands on.

“Okay, maybe an hour.” Bucky concedes.

“You have one hour, any more than that and I’ll have to start cutting stuff which will make me super sad.” You learned very early on in this relationship that the boys loathe making you sad, they’d do almost anything to keep you happy and you’ll milk the hell out of that if it means keeping your plans.

“Don’t worry doll, we can do a lot in an hour.” Steve winks at you and in one movement flips you onto your stomach. He crawls over you so that he’s practically laying on you. “Especially with the proper motivation.” He presses down on you so that you feel the hardness contained within the sweatpants he wore to bed.

“Consider yourselves motivated then.” You say from your spot on the bed, turning your head to find Bucky standing on the side of the bed, in a very similar state to Steve.

Bucky smirks at you before shedding his clothes and moving in close. He practically shoves Steve off of you and yanks you by the legs towards him. “Sugar, we’re always motivated when it comes to you.” He flips you back over and pulls you even closer to him, your legs in his arms and your body lying at the edge of the bed.

Bucky falls to his knees and brings your legs with him, placing one on each of his shoulders. Steve grumbles and his adorable pout returns to his face for a moment before you reach out for him again. He takes your hand and lets you pull him to your side. You take his hand and place it on your neck. Licking your lips sightly and looking back and up at him from where you lay.

“You have fifty-five minutes left.” You smile at him.

“Brat.” the two of them say in unison, the word bursting with affection.

They use their time well you have to admit. Bucky feasts on you from his position between your legs, he makes you finish twice before he even moves and you have a sneaking suspicion that this is going to be one of those times when the boys try to one-up each other.

Steve quickly removes your top and starts lavishing your breasts with attention, leaving love marks all over them and across your collarbone. Once Bucky is satisfied with you, Steve takes his place, making you cum once more on his fingers. He takes you apart methodically, using every trick in his book.

Both boys manhandle you seven different ways to Sunday and you can’t help but giggle every time they do. Your previous partner wasn't nearly as strong as your boys are, and having two men who can lift, flip, and throw you around has done wonders for your self-esteem in the bedroom.

They close out the hour together, laying on your sides similarly to how you woke up. Steve lays at your front, placing sloppy kisses up and down your neck, occasionally catching your mouth with his, not too often though. Both of the boys love your noises too much to swallow them. They fill you up perfectly, as one thrusts in the other pulls out, this goes on for far longer than you’d like, the boys taking you to the edge a couple of times before they finally let you fall over. They follow you quickly and the three of you lay together in one big heap of limbs and sweat.

Bucky looks over to the clock on the wall, “Four minutes to spare.” He chuckles out.

You groan lovingly and throw your head back against his chest. “Good, it’s going to take at least that long for me to be able to function again.”

Steve laughs at that and pulls away from you. “Well, while you learn how to function again I’ll go make us some coffee.”

Bucky follows Steve’s example also pulling away from you and heading to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth to clean the three of you up. He pulls Steve back into him by the wrist before he’s able to leave the bedroom. He kisses him deeply and smiles like a goof at him. “Good Morning.” Steve laughs and kisses him back before pushing his lover closer to the bed.

“Morning Punk.”

You smile like an idiot at both of them, loving to see your two favorite people be in love, especially because you know how good that love feels.

Bucky cleans you up quickly and pulls you out of bed with the promise of pancakes and scrambled eggs. You kiss him before he leaves the bedroom and set out to begin preparations for the day.

You dress quickly, having planned weeks ahead in your mind what you would wear. Once you finish picking out your own outfit you pick outfits out for both of your lovers. You pull out a white undershirt and colorful button-up for Steve, along with a pair of khaki shorts. For Bucky you pull a deep red shirt that he loves, it’s a lightweight knit piece with a small V and buttons running down the front. You lay a pair of black jeans next to it and smile at your choices.

You make your way to the kitchen where you hear your boy’s bustling around. Bucky is making good on his promise; making pancakes and adding each of your favorite mix-ins. Bananas for Steve, chocolate chips for yourself, and blueberries for him. Steve is next to him making the scrambled eggs and looking handsome while doing it.

“So Sugar, gonna let us in on the plans for today.” Bucky looks up from the pan and cocks his head at you.

“Well, I thought we could start the day with a trip to the boardwalk, followed by a picnic on the beach, and then finishing up with dinner at that diner the two of you like so much?”

“Sounds like a great day sweetheart, when do we need to leave?”

“I knew you two wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourselves so I scheduled the car to come pick us up in about forty-five minutes. Plenty of time to eat, and for you two to get dressed while I grab the rest of what we’ll need.”

Steve places your coffee in front of you and presses his lips to the top of your head. “You think of everything Sweetheart.” You practically preen at his praise and cover your smile with your mug.

Bucky finishes breakfast and the three of you eat and talk for a couple of minutes before you shoo them off to get ready and you start putting the last touches on the picnic basket you had prepared the night before. Also grabbing a nice big outdoor blanket, some sunscreen, and some snacks because if you know your loves and you do, you know that they will certainly get hungry again before it’s time for lunch.

The boys come back into the living room and you whistle at them in their outfits. Steve smiles bashfully and puts his hands in his pockets while Bucky smirks and gives you a little twirl showing off your choices.

“Thanks for the fashion expertise Sugar.”

“What can I say, I love taking care of my boys.” You shrug before handing the picnic basket to Bucky along with his sunglasses a hair tie and a baseball cap. You hand the backpack with all the other stuff in it to Steve along with his hat, wallet, and phone. You grab your purse off the counter and place your own sunnies on your head before clapping your hands together.

“Alrighty Gents, who is ready for the best date day they’ve ever had.” You grab one hand from each of them as they take their rightful places at your side and lead them out to the black SUV you arranged to take you to the pier.

The morning is going well, Steve and Bucky walk hand in hand with you up and down the boardwalk, looking and laughing at all the dumb junk in the tourist shops that line each side of the pier. Bucky begs you both to stop for ice cream and you can never say no to him so you do, continuing your day now each holding a cone in your hand. You drop Bucky’s hand to hold your own ice cream and he looks downright offended before you point out that he was the one who wanted ice cream in the first place.

Walking the boardwalk was nice, it was a perfect day too. Not too hot and with a nice breeze that made everything look so beautiful. The trees sway and the birds are flying. Your boys stay by your side the whole time and the three of you walk and talk, you go up and down the pier before you start guiding them to the spot on the beach you had scoped out earlier. You don’t stop the conversation and just take in the time you had with your lovers, cherishing these quiet days when none of you had anything to do but love each other.

Eventually, you happen on the spot, it's a little further down the beach from all the people which affords you the privacy you need. Being with two heroes is nice in a lot of ways and not so nice in some others. People recognize your boys all the time and usually, it's not a problem, most of the public is super nice and doesn’t take up a lot of time but you really just want today to be the three of you, with no interruptions and no random people coming up to you.

You task Steve with setting out the blanket and Bucky with finding some rocks to weigh down the edges. He quickly pecks your lips before giving you a joking salute and setting down the beach. When the blanket is all set out and secured you sit down with the basket and begin pulling things out. Starting with the cooler that holds the sparking white wine and the strawberries that you had already cut. You pull out a container of turkey and cheese pinwheels, some chips and salsa, deviled eggs which Steve loves, and lemon bars which Bucky loves. As you reach in to grab the last container your hand meets something wet and sticky and you groan.

“Why’s it… sticky?” You pull your hand out along with the broken plastic container full of chopped watermelon and make a face at the residue on your hand. Bucky laughs at the look on your face and takes the watermelon from you. Steve jumps into action and begins looking in the backpack you packed for any napkins or wet wipes but before he can find them, Bucky takes your hand in his and runs his tongue down the side of your wrist licking up the juice.

You pull your hand from him and give him a look, “Now my hand is sticky and covered in spit, thank you, James.”

“Just trying to help Sugar.” He winks at you.

“No, Stevie was trying to help,” You take the wet wipe from his outstretched hand, “You were being a perv.”

“I told you Sugar, when you’re around I’m… motivated.”

“You need to be motivated to eat all the food I packed because it’ll go bad before we get back home.”

“It looks great Sweetheart, thank you for making everything.” Steve, grabs one of the pinwheels you made and takes a bite, moaning a bit at the taste.

“Damn it Steve, now I’m… motivated.”

“I can help you with that Sugar.” Bucky wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“I appreciate the offer Honey, but I don’t want sand to get all up, everywhere.”

“Fair enough Sugar.”

The three of you spend several hours lounging around the beach, you don’t have anything else planned until dinner later so you let yourself relax a little bit. The boys have no problem finishing all the food you packed and after a while of just sitting and watching the waves, they get a little restless.

You smile and shake your head. You really do know your boys. You pull the backpack closer to you fishing out the frisbee you brought and a book for yourself. You toss the plastic disk at Steve, “Go crazy you too.”

They practically jump up and start running a little ways away from the blanket lest you accidentally get caught in the crossfire. Sometimes you forget that they haven't had much time to be young, the war stole so much from them and neither of them has had the chance to let go in a really long time.

They play and you read for another hour or so, you occasionally take glances at them. They’ve graduated from just tossing the disk back and forth to trying some trick shots. Their laughter lifts your heart and sticks a smile firmly on your face.

What drops your smile though is the sudden darkening of the sky and the water that falls from the heavens shortly after. Your book gets splattered with a couple of drops at first and you glance up at the sky, cursing lightly. It wasn’t supposed to rain today, you double and triple-checked the weather before you left.

It certainly wasn’t supposed to start absolutely pouring, it’s like the sky opened up and in a single moment you and everything around you were soaked.

The boys run back towards you as you scramble to start packing everything back up. They help and in a few minutes, the three of you are once again, hand in hand except this time you’re sprinting down the beach back toward the bridge you had passed earlier. You practically collapse once you’re under the shelter. Dropping everything in one big pile and falling backward into the sand.

The boys look at you in concern for a few seconds before you just start bursting out in laughter. You look like a drowned rat you’re sure but they still look at you with heart-eyes. They sit down next to you and start laughing along with you. The rain only lasts for a few more minutes, departing just as quickly as it arrived.

“Looks clear Sugar, we can go.” Bucky pulls the backpack onto his shoulder and stands, offering you his hand to pull you up.

“Damn, we can’t go to the diner dripping wet and covered in sand.”

“How about…” Steve starts, “We head home, take a shower get changed, and order a pizza from that place in the city you like. Then we can watch a movie and snuggle on the couch for the rest of the night.” He pulls you into his chest, looking down at you and pushing some wet strands of hair off your neck.

“That sounds fantastic Stevie, what do you think Buck?” You turn to look at him.

“I just want to spend time with you, I don't care where.”

“Sap.” You throw at him. He just shrugs and walks closer to you and Steve, wrapping his arms around you both and placing a kiss on the side of both of your heads.

“Alright,” you go to pull out your phone, “I’ll call the car and we can head home.

The car doesn’t take long to meet you back at the entrance to the beach, you make a mental note to apologize to the driver for getting sand on the seats and add a couple of bucks to the tip you had planned.

When the three of you get home you do just as Steve said. All three of you make your way to your bathroom, you strip out of your still kind of wet clothes and climb into the shower together. You each take turns washing each other, sharing kisses, and cleaning all the sand from your bodies.

You get out and put on some pajamas, a pair of loose cotton shorts, and a tank top along with a pair of socks that have dinosaurs on them. You had bought a pair of them for each of you as a simple no reason kind of gift.

You make your way out to the living room where Steve and Bucky have already begun setting up, lighting some candles, and putting your favorite and most soft blanket through a quick cycle in the dryer to get it nice and toasty.

“Alright Sugar, the pizza is on its way the couch is set up for some serious snuggling action all we need now is our girl and a movie to watch.” He pulls you down so that you are lying across both him and Steve, your legs propped up on Steve’s legs. He immediately grabs ahold of your calves and starts massaging the flesh there.

Steve puts on Muppets from Space, one of the hundreds of movies on the list he and Bucky have to still watch and he dims the lights with his phone.

“You know, I wanted to take care of you guys today, this isn’t really fair.” You spoke out into the room.

“You do take care of us Sweetheart, every day you take care of us.”

“Yeah sugar, you took care of everything today, you scheduled the car for an hour later, you packed some of our favorites, you brought a frisbee and you had planned a nice dinner at the place we love. It’s not your fault the day got messed up by some rain.”

“Still, I almost got everything perfect.”

“Sweetheart, every day with you is perfect whether or not we end up soaking wet and covered in sand.” Steve squeezes your thigh to drive his point home.

“I love you guys.” You sit up to give each of them a kiss.

“We love you too sugar, now hush I want to find out what kinda creature Gonzo is.”

“I take it back, I love Stevie, I tolerate you.” You stick your tongue out at Bucky.

“Brat.” the two of them say in unison, voices laced with affection.

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