#i usually never look like me in these things
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connorsui · 3 days ago
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"Why? Because I treat you like my wife?" Sylus asked, a rare smile tugging at his lips as he tilted his head, his crimson eyes glinting with curiosity.
"No… it’s because you treat me like a queen," you replied, a soft giggle escaping as you smiled up at him. Your laughter seemed to brighten the air, and for a moment, the usual weight in Sylus’s expression lightened.
His smile widened, a subtle curve that made his sharp features soften. "Well, the queen should be treated like a woman and a lady at every phase of her life… so there are moments where she must be cherished with the passion of a lover, revered with the devotion of a worshiper, and adored like she’s the very air I breathe—the only thing keeping me alive." His voice dropped, low and steady, as he stepped closer, his presence commanding yet impossibly gentle.
His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin with surprising tenderness. "Because that’s what you deserve, every second of every day."
"You’re not just my queen," he murmured, his gaze steady and warm as his smile softened further, "you’re my everything. And I’ll make sure you never forget that." His head tilted slightly, his eyes flicking to yours with an affectionate gleam, as if he was savoring the way you looked at him.
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nichuuu · 2 days ago
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Beats Me - 7: Emails I Can’t Send
ft. Kim Minju
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Word Count: 10k+
The first few minutes of your meeting are spent by Yeji and Yuna to catch up on life. 
You sit by the side, detached from the conversation as you sip on the latte (what did they put in this thing? It’s so damn good). They relive some highschool memories, ask each other what they’ve been studying—the usual stuff. The croissants at the counter look really good, and you’re wondering if they’ll taste as good as they look. Maybe you should buy one later. 
Yuna reminds you of Ryujin, only if Ryujin looked friendlier and less intimidating upon first glance. Her voice is distinct, her laugh even more so as she does that thing where she moves her feet like she’s running while she doubles over. Her eyes stay focused on her senior who—for the first time since you’ve seen her—is smiling. Yeji’s lanky fingers stay affixed to the straw, moving every now and then to disturb the ice as she stirs the drink. The coffee swirling in milk leaves light brown streaks against the side of her glass, creating these streaky patterns that look like they probably belong on an art piece. There are some details in her life that she briefly touches on but never delves into, probably because you’re there next to her.
Then it’s finally time. You’re dragged back into the conversation when Yeji says, “So you want to join the band?” and suddenly the cat that’s situated just outside the glass door doesn’t have your attention. Yea. Been looking for a chance to play, is Yuna’s reply, I saw you guys play at that bar the other time. You guys were great. 
Eunbi should be here. She would’ve been ecstatic to hear that.
Yeji nods her head, stirring her drink idly as she silently looks at her junior. You hope that Yuna’s stratagem to enter isn’t just flattery. A sinking feeling tells you that it just might be, judging from the way she’s shifting under the gaze of her senior.
“Remind me Yuna: how many years have you played the saxophone for?” Yeji inquires. Yuna’s response is quick, almost rehearsed—five years now. Never stopped playing for a single moment in my life—and Yeji seems rather pleased by it. Yuna sips on her grapefruit ade, casting a glance your way as Yeji drums her nails against the table. You shoot the younger girl a reassuring smile, and hopefully she gets the message that she’s doing great in your books.
Then Yeji unfolds her arms, taps a nail before your crossed arms that rest on the table to get your attention. The same nail points towards Yuna, and its owner simply gestures with her chin. You get what she wants you to do, though you would’ve appreciated it if she’d just told you what she wanted, and you clear your throat while sitting up a little straighter. 
“Um… Yeji kinda has me here to… Talk about my experience.” You internally cringe at your opening statement. What is this? An alumni sharing session? you chide yourself, all while you’re continuing on to whatever it is you have to say, “When you join this band, do expect yourself to be pushed a little. The hours aren’t all that taxing, but you gotta be able to… You know, strike that work life balance, as they say.”
And that’s just about all you have to say. Yeji neither smiles nor glares at you, only giving the smallest of nods as she focuses her attention on her junior. “If we give you a chart, you better learn it by heart by next practice. If we have a gig, practice will get more intensive. There’s a lot of things you need to be able to do Yuna. You can’t just think that you’re up to it; you have to be sure that you can shoulder all of these responsibilities.”
She’s making this sound like military recruitment, you’re thinking. Yuna’s definitely feeling a slight shift in atmosphere, and she’s fiddling with her glass as she stares straight into Yeji’s eyes. If you’re being honest: Yeji is definitely exaggerating the rigor of the band, and it’s probably scaring the poor girl. Your guitarist’s gaze isn’t at its peak intensity, but it’s enough to make Yuna purse her lips in silence, her smile fading from her face. Yeji greets her junior’s silence with a grim expression.
“So. Let me ask you again.” This time, Yeji’s tone is the furthest thing from gentle. “Are you ready to join us?”
Yuna stares at the melting ice in her glass. She takes a sip of her coffee, lets it sit in her mouth for a bit, and then swallows. “I’ll… I’ll text you when I’ve made up my mind.”
And all at once, it feels like all the happiness in the world has been sapped out of this cafe. Yeji stands up, leaving the rest of her latte untouched as she shoulders her bag and pushes in her chair. 
“I’ll pay you for the latte,” she says, albeit a bit too nonchalantly after she’d single handedly brought down the mood. “Text me how much it costs, then text me again once you’re sure that you want in.”
She doesn’t even wait for you, doesn’t even look at you; she just turns on her heel and leaves. And for a moment, you sit there in awkward silence with Shin Yuna. You can’t help but feel bad for the poor girl who’d just been subjected to unwarranted coldness; and you want to comfort her, but you don’t know how. With a sigh, you take the straw out of your cup, bring the glass to your mouth and down the rest of your latte. Yuna’s eyes stayed trained on her own latte, which was close to untouched. She watches as a single drop of condensation rolls down the side of the glass, landing on her coaster and getting absorbed into the material. 
“The band’s… Not as bad as she makes it sound,” you pipe, pausing for a brief moment to consider your words carefully. “Yeji tends to be a little… Mean sometimes.” Now that she has her eyes on you, you can’t help but feel a little shifty in your seat. She’s the type of girl that turns heads when she walks down the street, the type of girl that could probably get scouted by a model agency just by standing at a bus stop and looking at her phone. Not that her gaze is piercing or anything, but it’s just that she’s a little too breathtaking to make you feel okay sitting opposite her in a one on one. “Don’t think too much about it. I think you’ll make a great fit in the band.”
And then you decide to leave. It’s with great embarrassment that you state that you should take your leave, and it’s with great clumsiness and lack of grace that you stand up, bump your knee against the table, mutter a small and push your chair in before making a beeline for the door. The bell on the door chimes as you pull the door open, and it chimes again when you step out, and again when you close the door shut behind you—almost like it was laughing at you. So much for not being awkward. 
“Thought you’d stay in there for a little longer.”
Hearing Yeji’s voice makes you jump, and you turn to find her petting the cat at the windowsill of the cafe. She isn’t even looking at you, not even a glance in your direction as you walk up to her and stop just before her. 
“What the hell was that in there?” you can’t help but question. “You make us sound like we’re a fucking concentration camp while simultaneously making her feel like shit. How the fuck do you even do that?”
She gives the cat one last scratch between the ears, and the feline purrs under her touch. She rises from her squatting position and looks you in the eye. “That’s why I brought you here: to make her feel better.” She lets that linger in the air for a bit. “Okay. I’m going home.”
And she walks right past you like you aren’t going to be traveling in the same direction as her. A grunt of frustration slips out of your lips as you turn and catch up with her, matching her pace step for step. 
“Did you seriously think,” you ask as you match her stride, “that a small ‘it’s alright’ from me would be enough to make her join?” 
“Yep.”
“You’re fucking unbelievable.”
“Same goes for you.”
“What?”
The two of you stop at the traffic light, and she takes the time to adjust her hair over her shoulder and crack her neck like there isn’t someone talking to her on her immediate left. At this point, you are as good as a ghost to her.
“Why can’t you just be nice for once?” you don’t bother hiding the aggression in your tone, nor did you ever intend on doing so. “Is it really that hard? Do we have to go through a trial to earn your kindness?”
The light turns green and she puts away her phone. “I’m only nice to the people I trust, and neither you nor Yuna fall into that category.”
You bite your tongue, and you stay where you are as she walks across the road. She doesn’t look back, and you never expected her to. This conversation is hardly worth your time and emotional battery. You’re better off talking to some moss ball behind a dumpster, and the silence that you’ll receive is more welcoming than anything Hwang Yeji will ever say.
And so you walk elsewither from where she’s going and you just walk. You know for a fact that there’s no point in fuming over her behavior, and there’s definitely no point in figuring out how to get to her. Instead, you walk down a stretch of shops, letting your eyes wander across the various items that are being displayed at the windows: the jewelry, the clothes, the facial products, the bags, the—
Someone calls your name, and her voice is all too familiar. You’ve heard it just recently, over the phone with club music blaring over her voice. So yeah: you don’t need to turn to know who's made you stop in your tracks, but you do just because you need to see it to believe it
Kim Minju looks dazzling in her outfit:a set of black and short shorts that cover up the skin that’s exposed beneath the shirt-dress she wears. The lime green knitted Prada bag she has in her hands is a little bit jarring, a tad out of place on her monochrome outfit, and you guess that she probably grabbed it in a rush to get out of the house. Still: it looks like a purposeful mismatch, and perhaps your sense of fashion is just so bland that you simply just can’t appreciate the complexity of her outfit.
“Hey,” she greets—a mix of shock and surprise and glee on her face as she takes small steps towards you. It isn’t that big of a distance to cross, and she’s right in front of you in two-to-three small steps. She stops for a moment, lets her eyes wander across your face for a bit. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
“Same goes for you,” you tell her. “Thought we’d just rub shoulders in the club and call it a day.”
Minju giggles, fidgets a little with the strap of her bag that sits nicely on her small shoulder. “You uh… you going somewhere?”
“Well um…” it’s hard to phrase what exactly it is you’re doing right now, because: a) you don’t exactly have a set location in mind and; b) you don’t know how to tell her that you were going away from somewhere that you were going to just now—ugh, it’s confusing to even think about. In the name of reducing the complications of your explanation, you opt for the best response you can possibly give at the moment: “No. Not really. How about you?”.
It’s not a lie; it’s half of the truth… Sort of? Ah fuck, why bother fretting over it?
She smiles, a toothless one where the corner of her lips gets tugged up by a set of invisible strings. It’s a charming little smile, and you have to admit that you love seeing the way it makes her eyes glimmer a little. “I just met my groupmates, and before you ask: it was a horrible session.”
You chuckle. “My condolences.” You rub your palms against your jeans as you speak, “must suck to be the smartest person in the group.”
She’s consistently been the brightest person in the room, perfect GPA, Valedictorian and everything. Sure: she already stands out because of her looks, but her smarts make her the whole package deal. The whole reason you met her in the first place was because you were failing Chemistry so badly in your first year that the teacher had to get her and her straight-As to step in and tutor you. She did a pretty good job, pulled your marks up from an E to a B and kept it there. 
“Oh shut up,” she sighs, though the smile on her face never fades, “you know I hate it when you say shit like that.”
“Do you? Could’ve sworn that you lived off compliments back then.”
She clicks her tongue in annoyance, slaps your shoulder with the back of her hand. She hasn’t changed one bit. “Fuck you. You always were too damn cheeky.”
You shrug in response. She pushes back a strand of hair.
“You wanna grab a coffee?” Her question is one you’ve expected from the moment you bumped into her. 
“I just had a latte, but I wouldn’t mind getting a Croissant.”
***
“You were one mark away from an A—this close to breaking your B streak.”
“It was an A in technicality. Careless mistakes that fuck me over don’t count, Minju.”
“Tell that to the Chemistry department then.”
“I think they would've dunked me in a vat of acid.”
“What type of Acid? Can you still remember which ones can melt skin off bone?”
“Welcome back Little Miss know-it-all.”
“The information will save you one day, mark my words.”
“Well I doubt I’ll ever come into contact with skin-melting Chemicals any time soon.”
“Don’t jinx yourself.”
“Hey, don’t tell me that when you were the one who was dubbed ‘bearer of bad news’.”
“It’s not my fault that I always have to relay the bad news to the class! I was the fucking class president!”
“Oh right.”
“Oh right. You sound so stupid.”
“Says the one giving me a lecture.”
“I’d hardly constitute this as a lecture.”
“Look at you using big words.”
“I’m going to throw this fucking coffee at you.”
“It’s a good latte. I wouldn’t recommend you wasting your money like that.”
“You’re a child.”
“Aren’t we all young at heart?”
“Young at heart is one thing. Immaturity is another.”
“I’d argue that you’re the immature one here.”
“Says the one who’s always getting himself involved in some shit every other day.”
“I wouldn’t blame that on my immaturity.”
“So you do admit that you’re immature.”
“Now you’re just putting words into my mouth.”
“It’s not my fault that you say stupid things.”
“But it’s you that uses my stupid things to… Fuck. That won’t sound right.”
“Did you just lose your train of thought mid sentence?”
“I was running what I was about to say through my head.”
“You do that while you speak? You’re so weird.”
“Oh so you’d rather me spit out nonsense all the time?”
“Yea, so I can insult you over it.”
“Ugh. You’re so kind Minju.”
“Thank you. I pride myself with my heart of gold.”
“The same one that made you a pushover with your ex?”
“We both know that he manipulated me.”
“And you kept making excuses with him because you refused to see the bad in him.”
“Okay, I admit that that was a bit of a misplay on my end.”
“You dated him for two years.”
“I didn’t want to be lonely, okay? Everyone in the damn friend group was dating, I felt left out!”
“But we were in healthy relationships. Yours looked like the physical embodiment of type two diabetes.”
“Oh. So you’d consider your relationship with Kim Chaewon a healthy one?”
“It was till… You know.”
The silence that follows is deafening, and Minju’s smile fades.
“Shit. I went a little overboard with that one,” how apologetic she sounded made you feel bad. Not that you ever intended to be a wet blanket, but the hesitance in your voice must have killed the mood or something. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
You waved it off. “All jokes,” you assure her with a forced smile. “Nothing was or has been taken to heart. I promise.”
She purses her lips, and when she parts them, they make a small smack. You take a moment to take another stab at your croissant and send another bit into your mouth. And yes: it does taste as good as it looks. 
“How are things with you and her anyway?” She asks, setting down her half-full glass of latte. “Are you guys doing alright? Talking now?”
You imagine the look of shock on her face when you tell her that you made out with your ex and fucked her after you took her home, and make the executive decision to skip the details and give her a more vague (and untrue)  answer: “We’re uh… Reconciling I guess.”
She nods, and you can’t tell if it’s one of approval or one of disappointment. She’d been the number one supporter of your relationship with Chaewon; imagine her shock when you told her one fine morning over the phone that the two of you had broken up.
“Forgive me for continuing on this subject, but,” the addition of that but really spoke volumes of how she wasn’t gonna let you interject, even if you really wanted to just stop talking about it. She’s not one to be self-centred, but when she has something to say, you have a guaranteed earnings if you bet on the fact that she’ll get it out one way or another. You always let her get away with it, only because you have a bit of a soft spot for her, and she has a bit of a soft spot for you too—you did spend a large amount of time in your first year of highschool in the library with her after all. “I always thought that you and Chaewon would be, you know, a ‘forever couple’.”
“Well I’m sorry we ruined your drama fantasies,” you reply, trying to bring the conversation back to the light-hearted talk it was just a couple of minutes ago. “Some things just don’t work out in the end—the relationship was just one of those things.”
This time, you decode her nod as one of understanding and sympathy. “Well… As long as you’re okay now.” she rolls her straw between her forefinger and thumb, watching as it twists left and right in her fingers and disturbs the latte before her. “You seem to be doing well with your whole band gig and all.”
“You could say that.” You set down your fork and dab the corners of your mouth with a napkin while you swallow the rest of your croissant. “Chaewon and I will learn to… Coexist eventually. I hope so at least.”
“You guys better sort it out,” she muses. “I doubt I can keep baby-sitting her at the club for much longer. I have a life too, you know?”
“I feel like that’s more of a problem for her to settle than us.” you’re barely hiding the disdain in your voice as you stare at crumbs that are left on your plate. “It’s not my problem if she gets drunk. She made the choice to go drinking herself.”
“But you made it your problem just a day ago,” Minju points out. 
“Only because it was the only way to get her out of that damn club.”
“You could’ve chosen not to come.”
“And leave you guys to deal with her?”
“It was me and Eunbi. We could’ve dragged her out.”
“But—“
“Just admit that you actually cared. You and I both know that you’re too much of a fucking sweetheart to ever let someone struggle when you can help.”
And she stumps you with that one, because you don’t know how to reply to that. Is that a compliment or an insult? Frankly, you didn’t know, but you do know that you’re surprised by the fact that anyone can ever use the word sweetheart in such an aggressive manner. It’s like telling someone you love their outfit before punching them in the face. 
Okay, maybe not that extreme… But you get the gist.
“Maybe I did have a soft spot for her,” you mused. It’s half self-realisation, half-reply. “But even so: you guys would go through all nine circles of hell just to get her up and out of the club.”
Minju draws her lips into a thin line. She lifts her straw to her mouth, lets it hover just in front of her lips for a bit, then places the glass back down on the table heavily. A small, substantial thump sends a small tremor through the table. She stares into her glass. “What even happened when you took her home anyway?”
You shrug and put down your fork to wipe your mouth—actions that mask the fact that you want to cringe at yourself over what happened. You’ve done a lot of lying today (what would your mother say?), and you’re pretty sure that all of this will come back and bite you in the ass some day. But for now, you’d like to save yourself some embarrassment as you say, “Helped her with her hangover. Gave her a meal. Then she left.”
Minju looks at you for a moment. Then she sighs and shakes her head.
“You’re too kind for your own good,” she mutters. Her fingers stay wrapped around her glass as she speaks, beads of condensation slowly running down the clear walls of her cup and sliding down her knuckles. She raises her head, just enough to establish eye contact with you. “Then again: your soft little heart was the reason I had a crush on you.”
Okay. She skipped a lot of ground there.
You blink. You blink again. She stares straight into your eyes throughout—doesn’t break eye contact or anything. Not that you didn’t take her seriously, but just that you were a little… Well, stunned.
“Bottom line: you care about her. Don’t let her manipulate you okay?” Minju tells you, finally raising the star to her mouth and taking a nice long sip from her latte. When the straw is released from between her lips, she smacks her lips in satisfaction and leans back in her seat. You’re still staring if anyone’s asking, and yes: you are indeed thinking, what the fuck?
Minju shoots you a look of disdain. “What?” she asks as she straightens the collar of her shirt dress. “Why are you looking at me like that? Cut it out.”
Okay: aside from the fact that you’re shocked by the fact that she isn’t addressing the elephant in the room (the one that she placed there by her damn self), you’re reeling over the fact that she’s just casually dropped this hell-of-a piece of news on you like it was just an update on life or something; oh I used to like, you know, see you more than just a friend, but no biggie.
You blink. You blink again. She grabs the straw and tosses it out of the glass, gulps the rest of her latte in a single swallow and wipes her lips with the back of her hand. 
“If you’re wondering if the feelings are still there, the answer is no,” she tells you, picking up a napkin to clean up the corners of her mouth. “The keyword was had you big dummy. Stop thinking so much about it. You look stupid.”
The faculties to reply return to you, but you can’t do much but sputter a very confused wha? as Minju examines her nails for a bit. She smirks, then grabs her bag and rises from her seat. 
“If my news is killing you that bad, why don’t we talk about it over a nice dinner?”
***
True to her word, she does open up about everything over the course of the meal, albeit after a couple of glasses of wine.
“You were so cute and so damn loveable,” she muses, unashamed as she pours herself another glass. She took you to some nice restaurant a few streets away, and you’re kinda regretting your decision to eat that croissant for tea because fuck does the food here taste good. Minju settles into her seat, glass in hand as she stares at the scarlet liquid. “You bought me dark chocolate on my period, got me a snack after we had a session because I was hungry… You’re pretty fucking handsome too, you know that?”
All of this is, of course, news to you, and you’re struggling to internalise the fact that she would ever think about you in such a way. Your own wine glass has remained full for the entire duration of your meal, and you choose this time to take a sip to help you process all of… Well, this. 
“So… How long did you, you know, like me?” you can’t help but ask. Not that it was the first question on your mind or anything, but more of the fact that you needed to say something to prevent this conversation from descending into awkward silence. Comfortable was the last word you’d use to describe how you feel. 
“Huh…” Minju mutters. She swirls her glass for a bit. She takes a sip, swirls more. Her gaze turns inwards and her mouth moves in a soundless count. “If you don’t count the summer break where I figured out that I wanted nothing more but to kiss you? About a year and a half.”
You do the maths in your head and come to an epiphany. Minju beats you to it and verbalises your thoughts: yea, yea… I liked you while you were dating Chaewon, which means that I liked you when I was dating that deadbeat baseball player, which meant I was unfaithful by technicality, but I stuck with that sick fuck to try and make you jealous.
Frankly, you’re not too sure why you are being thrown into emotional situations with people of your past over the course of the last two days. You want this to be some sort of dream, and you want, so badly, for Minju to burst out laughing and hit you with a, this was all a joke! I just wanted you to accompany me for dinner, that’s all, and call it a day. Maybe you two could get ice cream afterwards, laugh this silly prank off on a bench somewhere and then bid farewell for the night. But judging from the way Minju stares solemnly at her plate, you can pretty much infer with full confidence that she means every word she says. Even as she chews her steak slowly, you can feel her lingering on some thoughts that she won’t verbalise—not now at least. Maybe she’ll text you about it a couple weeks for months down the road, and all of this will just resurface for, like, a day or two at most. Bottom line: she’s pretty serious about everything she just said, and she’ll most likely remind you of this conversation in this nice restaurant that you can never come back to again. The food is nice but it's nowhere in your tax bracket. 
“So uh,” Minju brings your attention back to her. She leaves you hanging for a bit as she pokes a cherry tomato with her fork and sends it into her mouth. You hear a soft crunch as she chews, and you can’t help but feel a little bit uncomfortable with the presented silence that follows. She dabs the corners of her lips with a napkin. She swallows. “About what happened with Chaewon after you took her to your place: did you leave out the part where you fucked her in the ass on purpose? Or did she drug you and you forgot everything?”
And it feels like time freezes as she picks up her wine glass and gulps down the rest of the scarlet liquid in there. When she looks at you with those piercing, knowing eyes, you wonder how much she knows about you and Chaewon; what does she know and what are the details she has sitting in some locker in the corners of her mind. 
“Chaewon has a pretty big mouth you know,” Minju remarks, a small—almost mocking—pout on her lips as she plays with the vegetables on her plate. “She tells me just about anything and everything that goes on in her life, just saying.”
So that’s enough to tell you that she knows more than she should. You wonder if there are any other people Chaewon runs her mouth to.
“If you’re gonna call me a loser, just do it,” you mutter. You suddenly find the urge to down the rest of your wind irresistible. You act on your impulse, and you grimace a little as the alcohol burns your throat on the way down. It’s probably not recommended to consume liquor the way you are drinking it right now, but you couldn’t care less at this point. You kind of need this drink right now. This day has been full of unexpected things: unexpected meetings to unexpected feelings to god knows what else is on its way. “But before you say anything, she started it. I was the victim.”
Minju chuckles. You don;t really find anything about this entertaining right now, but there will certainly be an element of humour to this conversation that you will probably discover after some hindsight. Minju sets down her cutlery and folds her arms. “I understand”, she tells you, making sure to hold your gaze as she rests her cheek in her palm. “Trust me. Calling you a loser is, like, the 2nd thing on my mind right now.”
“And what’s the first?”
She looks left, then right, then leans in a little. “Was the sex good?”
Honestly, you shouldn’t be shocked. She’s always been a bit cheeky in nature, a little bit lickerish and maybe a little indecent. You’ve seen it, heard it, known it for the longest time—yet you can’t stop yourself from raising both eyebrows when she drops the question on you. MAybe it’s the lack of hesitance; the question coming right at you like a fastball after you gave her your end of the situation. It’s a little devious: the way she just gives it to you straight without any room for silence and pondering. You’ll give her that.
“I mean,” she continues, not even giving you time to even try and rationalise the question. “I imagine that her pussy’s already tight as fuck. Her ass? God I can only imagine what that was like for you.”
Now it’s getting a little confusing. The lines between wry and genuine interest are being blurred here, and you’re not even sure if this is really a conversation you’re having with her right now. Her bluntness and lack of consideration towards you is a little appalling given her remorse in the cafe. Maybe it’s the wine. Yea, it’s probably the wine…
“What the fuck?” Is all you can manage as you affix your gaze on her with a look of shock that could probably win you an award if this was a movie. Minju pushes back some hair, fingers deftly tucking them behind her ear as she fixes you with a look. You have no idea where this conversation is going, and you really, really hope that she doesn’t continue on this line of talk. Of course, you have a bad track record of getting what you wish for. 
Minju leans in even more, gets even closer. You’re not sure if you should move or do anything at this juncture. She cocks her head a little, smirks.
“Wanna find out if I’m a better fuck then her?”
***
Why did you follow her back to her apartment? You don’t even know. Best guess: you weren’t really thinking after she spoke and just went with it. Or maybe: you might have looked at her all weird and somehow ended up agreeing (she’s a sweet talker and you certainly wouldn’t put it past her). There are about ten possibilities that you can think of—eleven if you added the one that just formulated in your brain about a second ago—all of which are equally confusing and hard to fathom. It’ll take some time and probably a cup of coffee or two to figure out.
But focus up: there are a lot more pressing matters right now, matters like the fact that her lips are firmly pressed against yours while your back is against the closed and locked door of her apartment. Frankly, you don’t even know how the hell you two got locked in this kiss; could’ve sworn the two of you were just talking at the restaurant a couple of minutes ago. Everything’s a little hazy, and it’s a little worrying considering that you only had one or two… Maybe three? Yea, probably three… Let’s just say there was a couple more glasses of wine after she asked if you if she could potentially be a better fuck, and here you are now. It seems like your relationship with alcohol and women all lead to the same destination. It’s a problem for sure, but you can settle that later. 
There’s a rather loud smack as she removes her lips from yours—for air of course. Gazing deep into your eyes, she smiles as she tells you, god I’ve always wanted to do that, before she re-establishes the connection of lips. The kiss is aggressive: nothing short of fervent and definitely not holding back on the restraint. If there was a way to properly kiss someone, Kim Minju was certainly taking it up another step. Her tongue pokes through your lips, invades past your teeth and pushes itself deep into your mouth till it dances with yours. It’s starting to get a little messy, a little more raunchy and, uh… Well—you get the gist. Your brain’s certainly not functioning the way it should be. 
Are you drunk? Probably not.
She starts to pull you by the shirt—away from the door and towards the living room. Her place is pretty big, and there's enough space for the two of you to stumble and fumble around till you find a flat surface that you can proper her up on and spread her legs. The surface in question is a table. It’s probably her dining table, and it creaks as Minju undoes the clasp of her sheer shorts that really shouldn’t be classified as shorts in any world. The article of clothing comes off together with your jeans, and they’re both tossed aside before your hands are on her hips and pulling her towards you. Her ass slides over the wood, hissing as her skin drags along a small distance so that she can grip your face in her palms and crash her lips against yours. You close your eyes, enjoy the feel of her warm body pressing against yours while those gentle hands sink fingers into the flesh of your cheeks. A dark part of you takes a little pleasure in the pain.
“Fuck.” You love the lilt in her voice after she breaks the kiss. “I see why Chaewon likes to kiss you now,” she lets her hands roam across your face, brushing away the bits of your hair that fall in front of your eyes, almost as if she wants you to see her and only her. “You kiss so well. Feels like I’m kissing a marshmallow with lips.”
“Do I even want to know how you came up with that analogy?” you question. She grins.
“Just trust it. I did get a higher score than you in just about every subject except music.”
You chuckle. She goes in for a kiss; you make a beeline for the column of milky skin at her neck, savour the sharp inhale that sucks air through her teeth and sounds like more of a hiss. You kiss her jaw, trail it up to her neck then back down to her collarbone. Every touch of your lips on her skin makes her sigh.
“Try not to mark me where people can see,” she whispers. “There’s only so much skin that makeup can cover without ruining my outfits, and foundation is really fucking expensive these days.”
(Now there’s the debate of whether that was a challenge or a precautionary measure. She’s always been a bit of a cheeky one: trying people on and giggling as she does so. You’ve been the victim of her antics before, but it’s kind of hard to deduce whether she’s telling you, don’t do it or inviting you to leave hickeys all over her neck and wherever you could get your lips on.)
“And if I do?” you can’t help but ask. Minju chuckles and pushes you away by your shoulders.
“Don’t.” She’s firm when she says it, almost like she’s chiding you for ever considering it. For a moment, you look each other in the eye as your breaths poke holes through the silence. It’s a little chilling yet a little thrilling, and you can’t help but take in the way she looks in the dim light of the night. In the midst of stumbling in, neither of you ever considered turning on the lights. She’s painted in soft strokes of moonlight, eyes shimmering in the gentle glow of night. Beautiful. She’s always been so beautiful, but never this beautiful. “I know you want to, but don’t,” she reiterates. You’re a little disappointed, but there are, of course, other ways to leave your mark on her.  
And so your hand snakes down and finds its way between her parted legs. Your other hand slithers around that small waist, and it holds her in place as your fingers press against the fabric of her panties. In your arms, she tenses—bristles as you start to feel the outline of her lips against your fingertips. You increase the pressure against her heat. Minju tilts her head back and moans.
Fuck. You don’t think you’ve ever heard such a sound: angelically filthy, airy and soft. It’s already hard enough to grasp the concept of her, one of your closest friends that you haven’t seen in a few good years or so, propped up on her own dining table while you trace the outline of her pussy through her panties and leave her squirming atop the wooden surface. Add the small choked up cries she’s making into the mix and by God do you have a recipe for a haze. Where to begin? This situation shouldn’t be real at all; none of this should be real, this should be a dream. This heat against your fingers. The sight of her mouth parted and her body twitching with each stroke of your fingers. The very realisation that this is as real as it gets, and it’s unfolding right before you by the second.
“Why are you so fucking wet?” you ask, noting the way she shudders as you let your finger hover over the base of her opening for a bit. Her thighs—pale skin painted in the lightest shades of moonlight—twitch in anticipation, almost as if the blood in her veins is loading up inside there and would shoot forward the moment you start moving again. She can’t predict what you’re gonna do next, and it’s killing her in a way that brings you this sick satisfaction. Minju whimpers; you chuckle. “Do you really want it this bad Minju? Has no one touched you like this before?”
(Her bottom lip quivers as she struggles to compose herself. She breathes: raspy and staccato. Strands of hair hang in front of her face, the same one that has this pleading look superimposed over bratty frustration. It’s hot, really satisfying and really challenging you take some liberties with her. Sure: it’d be really fun to just stuff her full of cock and just have your way with her right here and now, but where’s the fun in that? You’ve known her as this smart, preppy girl who’s always gotten what she wants because she’s smart and rich. You can't remember the last time you saw her fail. Maybe she did face a bit of a setback when she was starting out in university, but as far as you’re concerned, she’s in need of a bit of humbling.)
It’s all enough to drive anyone mad really. So you can’t really blame her when she cries oh god just fuck me already! at a volume that would probably get her a noise complaint from one of her neighbours. It’s a little jarring, and it makes you stop and look at her for a second or two. She looks back at you, giving you those fuck me eyes that you didn’t know she was capable of as she starts to bite down on her lower lip. 
With that face and that aura, she—whether unwittingly or not—painfully reminds you of Chaewon. That same bratty persona mixed with that undeniable look of need—it’s killing you to look her in the eye a she starts to grind herself against your fingers, pleading you to get on with it—please, please, please just strip me and fuck me and make me your good little toy—while she fixes you with that pleading look. Her doleful eyes coax you, and it feels dangerous to even look into them, let alone gaze into them as pulls you closer with her legs and grabs your shaft through your underwear.
“Tease me all you want later,” she squeezes your cock—sweet, sinful pleasure. Those weapons of a pair of eyes slice into the deepest depths of your mind, appealing to the darker part of you to let loose and take control. She wants it, needs it more than anything else right now. “You can finger me, eat me, whatever… Just put this fucking cock inside of me and make me scream before you do anything else.”
She’s given you a list of priorities, and they really speak volumes of her personality. Funnily enough, it’s pretty in line with her character: goal oriented and focused on that success rather than the process. You wonder what would happen if you refused to give her that final goal she so desperately craves; what it could do and to what extent would it break her. You take some time to consider this as you slip your hands into the spaces between the upper buttons of her shirt.
“Minju.” You call her name out of politeness in wake of what you’re about to ask her. “How much was this shirt?”
The glint in her eye when she catches your implicit message is enthralling. She pushes her bottom lip behind her front teeth; fixes you with this look that tells you that she's' about to say something that’s gonna satisfy your desires just because she can and she gets off on it.
“It’s Prada,” she tells you. “But I can always get another.”
You grin, and with more strength than intended, you pull against the fabric of the shirt. Unfortunate buttons go flying as the fabric parts forcefully like velcro ripping apart. Nothing tears (surprisingly), but the shirt is most definitely unwearable for a while. You hope she knows how to sow.
She gasps when the cold air of her apartment suddenly hits her skin. You can’t really blame her — it all comes in a rush after she is stripped from her sole piece of clothing. She takes a moment to assess the damage done to her clothes. Her eyes wander along the naked strip of fabric her shirt buttons once called home. Then she looks at you, smirks.
“Hot,” she muses, lowering herself down till she’s on her elbows. “But I think you can do better than that.”
You like a good challenge. And with not too much kindness in your voice, you tell her to get rid of the rest of her clothing. There’s a smouldering look in her eye, and a smirk on her face as she tosses her hair out of her face. Then while she holds your gaze, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulls them down — keeps going till there somewhere far enough down those long, creamy legs for her to kick them aside. 
“That was a limited edition piece, can’t have you tearing that,” she explains, looking at the freshly discarded article of clothing. “My bra though? I got it at a convenience store in Japan. Do your worst.”
The bra doesn’t survive. It’s a shame really… It looked kinda nice. 
And basking in your gaze is a very naked Kim Minju, her skin practically glowing on top of her table as she looks up at you with those eyes of want. You take a moment – admire the supple curves in all the right places and the way her skin seems to ripple a little as she shudders. Three’s no doubt in your mind that the surface she has her back against is cold as hell, but  Fuck… this probably was the best place to have her like this – she looks like a fucking meal.
“You know,” you whisper, your index finger roaming up her body – starting from the base of her belly button and making its way up an imaginary line that you’ve drawn on her body. “You’re kinda fucking perfect.”
She chortles. “Um… Contradictory much?”
“Spare me the lesson,” you mutter, cupping her cheek firmly yet tenderly. You have no idea what this feeling in your chest is right now, but you do know that it’s gonna take you down a path you never explored before. “Now I just wanna make a mess out of you.”
You don’t wait for a reply. Heck, you don’t even give her time to craft a reply. No teasing, no testing the waters; you just get your cock in your hand, line it up with her slit and pump yourself into her for the first time.
And even though she has this look of offence on her face, you know that this is probably the hottest thing she’s ever experienced. It’s a non-verbal statement that tells you that: her eyes burn with a heat you often see in Chaewon when she’s just being a downright bitch, yet her lips part and her head tilts back to let a moan be drawn out from the deepest parts of her. You don’t quite know how you’re processing these cues with the novel sensation of her hot cunt around your cock (it squeezes and pulses at just the right places that make you twitch inside her and it’s like… So fucking hot in there) that welcomes you into the depths of the woman beneath you. Every little thing is just hitting like a fucking sledge hammer now. You can feel her heat around you, burning like fire in this cold apartment. Alcohol must really be setting in.
Minju takes a moment to collect herself, and after she does, she looks at you to send another non-verbal cue your way. 
This one means fuck me.
This whole situation is far from sophisticated; a little more filthy than you care to admit. It’s not what you’re used to with the other women you’ve been with. Eunbi likes teasing, Ryujin likes to play around a little; Karina is just downright submissive, Yeji a little more subservient than she lets on; Chaewon is… well, Chaewon – bratty and really whiny when she fucks.
But Minju? This is a whole new chapter for you. 
First impressions tell you that she’s just downright needy; a little bratty like Chaewon as she starts to whine a little while you start pumping in and out of her slick heat. Her legs lock around your waist, feet crossed behind your back. She pulls you in each time you thrust into her – pulls you deeper into her warmth and moans a little louder when you hit the right spot. You match her speed, and soon you're thrusting her with firm, fast strokes. It makes her throw back her head for a bit, a cry leaving her straining throat as she sets rolls with this tempo.
Her torso remains supported on her elbows, her small breasts that sit proudly atop her chest bouncing with each smack of your crotch against hers. She realigns her gaze with yours. Her eyes stay wide open, gazing right into yours as she holds your attention with this debauched gaze that makes your mind fill with wild, wild thoughts. You’re fucking her on the table, but you’re thinking about what it’d be like to have her against the wall, against the counter, on her knees; riding you on her couch, jumping on your cock on her bed…  
This woman is gonna fucking ruin you.
“Chaewon said that the dick was fucking good,” she’s quipping between her moans, and you know it’s taking considerable effort for her. She has to close her eyes when she speaks, and in doing so she frees you from her hypnotic gaze. “No that it’s actually filling me… I think she could be downplaying how good you feel.”
And you have to smirk. “You think so ?”
Her eyes snap open, traps you yet again. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you feel inside me?” she gasps. You have to admit that it sounds a bit more like she’s demanding you to figure out how good she feels right now/ ow fucking good your dick feels in my pussy? How–ngh… How good you fuck me?”
Emphasis on ‘fuck’ tells you that she likes this pace, this no-nonsense playing field that you’ve established from the moment you filled her for the first time. She never struck you as one to like it rough, someone who likes it when it kinda stings when you fill her. Then again, you didn’t expect her to hold feelings for you either, so you guess the world just has a bunch of mysteries that you have to unpack in your own time.
Currently, you’re just trying to unpack how fucking good she feels around you.
“You’re fucking filthy,” you hiss through your teeth. “Never knew Miss valedictorian liked being railed like this.”
She smiles through her pleasure – a half-curl upturn of the corners of her lips as she lets the sighs and gasps freely depart from her open lips. It would be a cute smile if it weren’t for the fact that you’re literally fucking her on the same surface she eats on. Not that she has any problem with it; it’s just kinda telling of how badly she wants you right now. Pretty hot honestly – feels a little dark but you like the fact that she just couldn’t wait and just found the nearest flat surface she could spread her legs for you on.
“I’ll let you in on something,” and it really looks like she’s pushing back moans in her throat. She isn’t very successful. Effort is commendable though. “As sweet as any girl looks, we all kinda like being fucked like a slut.”
You manage a chuckle. “And does that apply for you?”
You love the way her eyes gleam. She lets herself lie flat on her table. 
“That’s for you to find out.”
And you understand why she’s laid herself across the table for you. It’s an invitation to her body, a request for you to touch the parts of her and hold her like she’s yours. She’s watching you intently, waiting to see what you’ll do while you keep pumping in and out of her. You respond by grabbing her shoulders, pulling her up straight till her chest flushes against yours. Her hands wrap around your neck, her breath in your ear.
“Come on you pussy,” she drawls. “I’m not Chaewon or Eunbi, so stop fucking me like you’d fuck them.”
Your hands find purchase in the firm flesh of her ass. Your fingers dig into the skin.
Then you’re fucking her – hard, fast. It takes her by surprise, by storm. Her gasp is strained, her voice louder in your ear now that she’s dug her chin into your shoulder. Her arms tense around your neck, her thighs tighten around your waist. You can feel her start to tremble as she struggles to keep herself upright. She holds you tighter, closer. She starts to moan more than she gasps. Her sighs turn to whines, her whines to cries and then to keening. 
In a matter of seconds, she’s found herself lost in her own pleasure, willingly and blissfully letting herself slink beneath the steadily growing stream of perverse want and need that flows from her mouth. She doesn’t have any smart quips left in her, no lessons or lectures – just this burning ache for you and the meat between her legs. You can feel the throbbing in her pussy, hear the squelch of your cock sliding between her lips getting louder as you go faster. You want—so badly—to lose yourself in her warmth and her heat. You want nothing more than to just put your lips on hers and kiss her through this wave of passion you’re feeling. 
So—against her wishes—you put your lips on her neck, starting sucking. You sense hesitation in her body, but it quickly fades and she tips her head to the side. She lets you have your way with her, relenting against you and letting you nibble on her skin as you piston yourself in and out of her. 
“I hope you’re giving me something no other girl will experience,” she rasps. She’s shaking a little, her nails starting to dig into your back. “Fuck me like I’m the one that matters. I need it.”
You lift your lips off her neck. The skin is starting to change colour. “Minju,” you don’t know how you manage, but you just do. “You’re the best woman I’ll ever fuck.”
“Mhm?” she hums. It’s a little shaky and it’s high-key hot. “Is—mphm… is my pussy better than Chaewon’s?”
And there’s that common thread between her and your ex: that desire to know that they’re better than someone else. You’ll please her for tonight. “So much better.”
She quite literally twitches at that, reeling in the thought that she’s taking cock better than her friend ever would. “Ngh– am I tighter? Am I wetter?”
You move so that you can look her in the eye. “Shut up and let me fuck you, would you?”
The look in her eyes tells you that she’s proud of what she’s done. She lets her forehead press against yours. Her eyes close. “Okay… But only because I still kinda love you.”
How are you going to deal with her? With this?
You don’t. You dive back into the crook of her neck, lengthen your strokes into her. It’s all too much to handle right now. Too many emotions are in play; too many thoughts need attention. You just want her, no strings attached and no need to spout all this nonsense about love and wanting to be loved. You kinda hate her for it, so you fuck her harder. You don’t like that she’s bringing feelings into this like Chaewon, so you fuck her harder and harder till she’s almost crying. 
She loves it, every second of it.
“Yes,yes,yes…” you can tell that she’s trying not to lose it all together, or maybe you’re just projecting. You can’t shake the feeling that your silence in response to her confession tells her that you’re gonna let her live this fantasy down right now. “Oh god you… Oh my fucking god.”
For long minutes, there’s nothing on your mind except her. You love the way she tenses and relaxes in your grasp, how she lets her body respond freely to your movements; the way her milky, smooth skin starts to bead with sweat, her hair sticking to her back; how her voice is kinda hoarse, how her lips claim your earlobe and she bites a little. As much as she’s frustrating, she’s entrancing. She’s hot, admittedly tighter than some of the girls you’ve fucked but also charming in her own way. Her moans aren’t the guttural type you get out of Karina or Eunbi, but more like a gentle yet kinda sordid exclamation of pleasure. Her breath is hot on your skin, a little hotter than you expect, but hot nonetheless. Her slim figure rocks against you, jolting when you get yourself nice and deep in her cunt, turning her into a nice bundle of nerves.
“I… Fuck… I’ve wanted this for so long,” she gasps. “But you’re here, actually here and… Fuck you’re just so fucking hot.”
And you know that’s her way of telling you that you’re better in real life than you ever will be in her wildest dreams. She’s turned on by the fact that you’re here, in the flesh and fucking her the way she likes it. Even though she surrenders to you, she’s gotten her way tonight. You’re fulfilling her desires just by being here, and your rock hard shaft drilling its way inside of her is really just a cherry on top.
(She’s kinda right: as sweet as she is, she likes being fucked like a slut.)
Even though it’s kinda her fault, Minju is your distraction, your break from it all. You give in: lose yourself in her smell, in her skin, in her flesh.  You let yourself get absorbed in it all — her gasps, her cries; the way her pussy only gets tighter, the way her legs shake around you; the fire in your chest that drives your cock in and out of her cunt in firm, long strokes; the heat of her body against yours as she starts to tense in your grasp.
Then she’s cumming — a hot mess on her dining table as cock spears into her through her orgasm. Her walls clench around you, her nails claw at your back. She cries your name. She says she loves you over and over and over till the faculties of her speech give way and she goes a little slack in your arms. You revel in it, do your best to block out the parts that make you ache a little on the inside; fuck her through the wave of an orgasm she goes through and relish the feel of her tight pussy getting tighter and wetter. You don’t know how to put it into words, but all you can really say is that she’s fucking beautiful through it all �� smutty art or maybe even straight up porn. 
When you join her, you don’t even ask if you can cum in her; she’s gotten enough of her way tonight. With a final few pumps into her, you relent to the tingling in your shaft and bury yourself inside her. Your grunt is rather guttural, your load hot inside of her slick wet cunt. She sighs, almost as if she’s welcoming it into her body. You savour the moment. It’s a treat for yourself. 
You stay like that for a bit — leaning against Minju and panting while you gather yourself again. She gently strokes your hair as she smiles at you, more than happy to keep you with her as you regain your bearings. 
And just because she can, she kisses you on the cheek.
You can’t meet her gaze much longer. You turn your gaze downwards as you remove yourself from her pussy, watching as the mix of your juices flow out of her freshly-fucked cunt. She hums as it flows down from her slit. 
“Forget what I said okay?” she requests, sounding remorseful as she takes your cheek in her hand. “You’re good at not taking things to heart, so do that for me, would you?”
You manage a small smile and nod. 
Then she kisses you, softly. 
“Thank you…” she breathes. “You just helped me delete some emails to you that I can never bring myself to send.”
***
You’re kinda in shambles to be honest.
Minju’s showering, which means that you have enough time to think about what your life has become. All these emotions are coming forth so suddenly, so quickly. You barely have time to process your school work and now this has come along and fucked you sideways. It makes your head hurt.
You decide to leave before she can get out of the shower. You can’t bear to see her again, but you do drop a text—Thanks for letting me crash. See you around—once you’re out of her apartment complex. You’re ashamed, but you were raised to know better than to leave without saying anything. But even though you do what you feel is right, something about what you’ve done doesn’t quite sit well with you. 
And you’re in the park when the realisation hits. On the bench, you bury your head in your hands.
You’ve done to Minju what Chaewon did to you.
Had this one sitting in the drafts for quit some time. Realised I actually never posted it so here it is I guess. Happy New Year everyone! Have this unedited work as a gift while I work on another fic because I can.
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st7rnioioss · 22 hours ago
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WHEN BSF!CHRIS CAN'T KEEP HIS HANDS AND THOUGHTS OFF INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ
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˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... grinding, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), kissing ˚࿔ notes: i'd like to say beforehand this is a little further into their relationship! I'll add more background stuff later<33
chris was restless. he continued to toss and turn in your bed, finally settling on his side, one arm slung around you waist while gently tugging you closer to him, pressing your back flush against his chest while you were sleeping peacefully.
he tried to doze off, he really did. but sleep seemed like the furthest thing away when he laid there, listening to your soft breathing, as the only currently audible noise, feeling the way your chest rose and fell under his touch.
his mind was running a million miles an hour, and he couldn’t get it to stop. it was dirty, wrong thoughts—about you. his best friend since.. well, for as long as he could remember. it had become something more usual, but this time he couldn’t control it.
you’d always been attached to the hip, but never once had he thought about you like this. never had he wondered what you’d look like naked, vulnerable under him.. okay, maybe a few times, but never to this extent. you'd only gone as far as him showing you how to finger yourself properly, where he took over the job because he couldn't resist.
how would you react to his touch? would you reach for his hair? his arms? would you grab the sheets instead? what did your moan sound like?
the real question was why on earth he was having these dirty thoughts about you. you were the sweetest girl he’d ever laid his eyes on, so sweet it gave him a toothache whenever you’d innocently bat your eyes at him, begging him to go get ice cream with you.
gosh, make it stop, he thought to himself, groaning when he snaked his other hand down to try and ease his rock-hard cock, which only seemed to make it worse, hardening even more under his own touch.
he didn’t know what to do, and only to worsen his panicked state, you started turning, his arm momentarily slipping from your waist when you faced him.
your eyes were thankfully still shut, lips in a soft pout from the pillow pushing them together. the sight didn’t help either. nothing helped him ease his raging hard boner. you laid there, so pure, unknowing of his sinful thoughts while your peaceful, gentle look only made the tight restrain in his boxers worse.
sleep was out of reach by now, his hand desperately trying to relieve his aching cock with a groan by carefully rubbing his palm over the bulge—but then your eyes fluttered open. he stared down at you with widen eyes, almost in disbelief that he’d been caught somewhat rubbing himself through his pants, but you didn’t seem to notice right away.
“are you okay?” your soft voice was heard. “you seem restless..” yeah, his constant tossing and groaning woke you up, but not enough to fully comprehend the situation chris was in.
“i- i can’t sleep. that’s all,” he whispered back, blinking rapidly while your eyes scanned his face, roaming every feature you were so familiar with.
speculating about his somewhat unsure answer, your eyes made their way down his chest when he let another whine slip, noticing the way his palm pressed against his groin, and you immediately felt ten times more awake than you were before. heat rushed to your face, before your eyes met chris's desperate gaze.
“oh..” you quipped, suddenly hyper aware of every movement of his, every desperate groan you’d heard behind you just moments prior now making much more sense.
“p-please, just- just let me.. let me put it in,” chris pleaded miserably, letting his free hands knuckles brush over your reddening cheek, his touch gentle as ever.
“chris- no, we can’t..” your answer only made his dick harden, though it seemed fucked up. you were so damn innocent, a prude even. you’d always avoided the topic of sex, not daring to go down that path ever. but he knew that when it came to him, you could bend the rules. “please- i’ll make it quick, i’ll just put the tip in. it hurts so fucking bad,”
but something about the situation caused you to turn curious. chris begging for your touch, begging to let him do something about his hard erection, to touch you.
“okay..” attentively, you turned around to lay in your previous position on your side, chris's hand slipping from the front of his shorts, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
“thank you, thanks- thank you,” he babbled, his clammy hands making their way to the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly pushing them down your thighs, until they pooled around your ankles, that you continued to gently kick off.
“i promise i’ll be careful, just the tip..” his breath fanned across your neck, making a soft gasp slip from your lips.
your eyes were wide open and lips parted when he hooked his hand under your thigh, gently lifting it to spread them apart, carefully placing your leg back down as if you were made of fragile porcelain.
“o-okay..” you spoke quietly, your breath hitching when his finger made contact with your panties, gently tugging them to the side. “already so wet f’me..” his voice was husky against your ear, lips grazing the sensitive skin as his thumb slowly ran between your slick folds, a weak moan falling from your parted lips.
you were driving him insane, already dripping for him, and it only took a couple right touches and words. oh, how bad he wanted to keep showing you how to feel good, let alone be the first one to. he'd already gotten his fair share on that part.
you’ve never been more nervous, but yet you felt safe with chris pressed so close up against you. it was chris after all, he’d never do anything to hurt you, plus, he was always so gentle with you whenever it came to stuff like this. your hands tugged the stuffed animal you usually slept with to your chest, nuzzling your nose into the neck of the teddy, the soft material under your fingertips easing your mind a little.
“i’ll be gentle, angel.. no need to worry,” he whispered, one of his hands maneuvering his shorts down mid-thigh, along with his boxers, the other one gently running down the side of your face, tugging a few strands of hair behind your ear.
he wrapped his palm around his cock, fisting his cock with a lewd moan, before bringing the head of his cock to your entrance.
“i’ll put it in now.. it’s just the tip, don’t panic..” he mumbled, pressing a reassuring series of kisses to the side of your neck, feeling you nod. “go- go ahead..”
those words was all he needed, gently smearing his sticky tip down your soaked folds, before pressing it forward, watching it disappear inside of you.
“holy- holy fuck..” he groaned between gritted teeth, his fingers gripping at your hip, a weak gasp elicited from your mouth. “oh, chris..”
your moan was silenced from the soft teddy in your arms, eyes fluttering shut at the slow intrusion, letting whines fall from your lips.
chris nearly lost his mind when he felt your walls squeeze around his tip—it took every fiber in his body not to stuff you full of his cock, not to completely ignore your previous, innocent words and start fucking into you.
“gosh- chris..” you whined, nails digging into the soft fur under your hands.
you could practically feel the desperation seep out of him from behind you, his throbbing dick just aching to be inside you.
“m’sorry angel, sorry.. i can’t hold back, please say something-“ chris's voice was strained with despair, his fingertips digging into your bare hip, smoothing his palm over your thigh.
“it’s- its okay..” you whispered, words somewhat muffled, but coherent. he was thankful almost, mumbling continuous praise and ‘thank you’ into your ear, smoothing his palms down your sides, under your top.
it sure was okay, he could tell. you were drooling around his tip, only making it easier to slide right in—which he did. holding tightly onto you, leaving kisses down your neck and back, he pushed his cock further inside of you, slowly.
“h-halfway, baby.. you’re doing so good,” he husked, his heart pounding in chest as he stilled his movements for a minute, allowing you to adjust.
you couldn’t keep quiet, eyes rolling to the back of your head while they fell shut, biting down onto the plush toy to restrain the moans. yet, pornographic whimpers slipped from your gritted teeth from the painful yet delicious stretch, making chris's head turn to mush.
“fuck.. you’re so perfect,” he hissed, sinking his length in until he was fully sheathed inside your heat with a sigh of relief.
blubbered moans fell shamelessly from the both of your lips as he slowly rutted against you, a hint of pain striking through you as you adjusted to his size.
you knew it was wrong. so, so wrong. friends didn’t do this, they really didn’t. what was gonna happen after this? would you just go to bed and wake up just usually tomorrow, just treating it as a favor?
but even though, you never wanted it to stop. his soft touch, lips continuing their work on your lower neck, stuffing you full of his cock when he rolled his hips.
“does it hurt?” he purred, his hot breath mingling on your neck, making a slight shiver run down your spine.
“no… chris, it feels- feels good,” you breathlessly whimpered, gripping the plush animal between your arms as if your life depended on it, listening to the dirty squelching of your pussy, basically drooling onto the soft material between your lips.
he only nodded, feeling your walls flutter around his cock, clenching and squeezing the life out of him. your back arched just slightly when he hit a specific spot within you, moaning loudly into the stuffed toy.
“y-you’re doing so well.. so beautiful,” he cooed, the praise going straight to the pit in your tummy, feeling the tension tighten as your teeth nibbled on the soft plushie.
“oh- oh my god..” without any warning, the waves came crashing over you, your chest heaving while your grip loosened on the soft plushie in your arms.
“jesus christ,” he panted, his slow but rhythmic thrusts continuing, until he reached his climax as well.
“shit- i’m gonna come,” he barely got to say, before the ropes of white spilled inside of you, letting out a shaky breath at the release of tension. you felt limp in his hold, your face growing hot, and heart racing with lidded eyes.
“thank you, thank you angel,” his breath hitched as he slowly pulled out. his pink lips left repeated kisses to the side of your face, listening intently to your breath regulating gradually, the pants turning back to the soft breaths he’d been listening to just moments prior.
you let a small smile break, nuzzling your nose back into the teddy bear to hide your blushing face, as if your back wasn’t turned to him. “it’s fine…”
his fingers danced across your waist, making their way to your hip, giving it a gentle pat as a dazed smile settled onto his lips.
“come on, pretty.. we gotta go pee,”
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more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader
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𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: none:3
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singmyaubade · 3 days ago
Text
Growing Pains
poly!marauders x female!reader
summary: you are in desperate need of a job, and the marauders are in desperate need of a babysitter, what's the worst that could happen?
warnings: eventual smut! 18+ | age gap between marauders & reader (not heavily identified) | reader is 21 + | mature language.
author's note: hello everyone! so i have multiple poly!marauder fics going on at this very moment (i know) but this was something that came to me and i thought it would be so cute to write since i never really dip my toes into this kind of normal au's. but please enjoy!
! divers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics !
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Being unemployed right out of university was not part of your plan.
You knew that it wasn’t unusual to be unemployed after attending university, but you also had high expectations for yourself.
Originally, you were going to intern at your father’s law firm for a while just to get on your feet, while living in your own studio apartment, which he would pay for—his reward for you ‘stepping up’ straight out of university.
After that, you planned to gain some experience and then be able to work at an actual law firm—not just intern—and pay off your studio apartment on your own.
But, as usual, you and your father had gotten into a blown-out, heated argument about your future. All you had said was that you ‘wanted to do some writing on the side’ during dinner, and everything blew up when he claimed that ‘writing is unreliable and wouldn’t get you anywhere in life,’ which only pissed you off.
It ended with you saying some things you didn’t regret, but maybe should have, and him cutting you off financially, retracting the offer at his law firm.
Instead of groveling, you let your stubbornness take over, storming out and having to find somewhere to live as soon as possible.
Thankfully, your cousin, who had graduated a few years before you, was openly looking for a roommate and wasn’t charging a high rate. You took the offer immediately, but finding a job was a real pain in the ass.
Every place you tried to intern at said you didn’t have enough experience or was in competition with your father’s law firm.
And every place you applied to—whether it was as a barista, waitress, assistant, etc.—rejected you.
For no reason, might you add.
You were growing hopeless and severely depressed. Mary was finding it quite hard to comfort you lately, especially since you were holed up in your room, refusing to leave.
She didn’t even think you went out to use the bathroom.
So eventually, when you came out of your room for your 8 PM coffee, she confronted you.
“Y/N,” She sighed, looking at you as you wrapped yourself in a blanket, dark circles under your eyes. “I love you a lot, but I need you to bloody get it together!”
You groaned. “What do I have to live for if no one will hire me and I’m just unsuccessful?” You sulked. “I mean, I’m going to be living with you until you and Lily have kids!” You screeched, horrified.
Mary looked spooked. “I pray not,” She replied, walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in her hands. “You just need to have more faith in yourself—and maybe a little boost,” She said, letting go and sitting on the counter. “Which is why I got you that little boost and got you a job!” She said excitedly, grinning as you looked at her in shock.
“Wait, what?” You responded. “Doing what? And how?” You asked nervously as her grin widened.
“Well, it’s a full-time babysitting gig,” She said happily, swinging her legs.
“So, a nanny?” You asked, sounding a bit deflated.
“Well, unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be living with them, but yeah, kind of,” She said, as you hummed.
“And you know the parents?” You asked hesitantly.
“Oh, like the back of my hand,” She said calmly as if your question was ridiculous.
“I mean, should I text them or anything? Or at least let them get to know me before I start babysitting for them?” You asked nervously.
Mary waved you off. “They’re really chill, they’ll love you,” She said happily as she hopped off the counter.
“Wait, but—” You tried to speak again, but Mary wasn’t having it.
“I’ll send you their address. You have to be there at 10 AM!” she yelled before heading to her room.
That wasn’t very informative.
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You were never this nervous. You really didn’t want to mess this up. Your palms were sweaty, and you were worried they'd think something was wrong with you, maybe unfit to handle kids if you were this nervous over meeting the parents. And Mary hadn’t even bothered to give you any info about the family—no names, no details about their children.
What made it worse was that you couldn’t decide what to wear. You wanted something casual but presentable, something that said 'I’m approachable, but not a slob.'
You were pretty sure the wife wouldn't appreciate anything too scandolous, and a single dad might misread it.
You ended up choosing a red and green Christmas sweater, mom jeans, and Mary Jane’s—comfortable enough, you thought, to handle kids.
Unfortunately, your timing didn’t match. Without a car (since your dad had cut you off), you had to bike there. And to make matters worse, you’d burned your toast and didn’t have time to make more. You were late, pedaling as fast as you could, praying your GPS was right.
You finally arrived at a beautiful suburban house—exactly what you imagined when you thought of a family of four. The house had a neat front yard, a doormat, and was surrounded by well-kept homes. Taking a deep breath, you rang the doorbell and quickly checked your reflection. Your hair was a mess, but you didn't have time to fix it before the door swung open.
A man with black hair, a black button-up shirt, and tattoos on his arms greeted you. He was strikingly handsome with a charming smile. And.. great, you were already crushing on the dad.
"Hey, you must be Y/N, the babysitter Mary recommended," He said with a grin, extending his hand. "We were expecting you—come on in."
The house felt warm and homey, with photos of kids everywhere and Christmas decorations all over. Toys were scattered on the living room floor but not in a messy way—just lived in.
"Sorry about the mess," The man said, laughing and running a hand through his hair. "You’ve arrived during morning madness."
"Oh, it’s fine," You replied, feeling flustered. "The decorations are lovely."
"They kind of went overboard this year," He chuckled.
Before you could say anything else, another man entered the room—a tall, broad figure with light brown hair, wearing a white button-up shirt and brown slacks. Scars marked his face, but they somehow added to how pretty he was.
“Sirius,” The man grumbled, “I told you to tidy up an hour ago,” He sent an annoyed look his way,
"Remus," The new man said, extending a hand. "Apologies for the chaos. It’s never this untidy."
"Yes, it is," Sirius teased. Remus shot him a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
"It’s nice to meet you both," You said with a smile. "Your home is beautiful. It reminds me of my family’s place."
Remus looked relieved. "We’re glad to have you. Can I get you anything? A glass of water?" He asked.
"I think I’m fine," You answered kindly as Remus led you to the couch.
Sirius sat next to you, creating a situation where you were sandwiched between the two men. You felt a little nervous, but they looked extremely comfortable.
"So, Mary didn’t tell us much about you," Remus started.
"She just gave us your last name and I didn't think it would be kind to search you up," Sirius added.
You laughed nervously. "Yeah, she can be a bit mysterious for no reason."
Sirius noticed you fidgeting and put a hand on your knee. "We’re just happy to get to know you ourselves," He said with a kind smile.
"Well, ask me anything," You said, trying to calm your nerves.
"Anything?" Sirius asked with a teasing smile. You flushed, and Remus shot him a warning look.
"How old are you?" Remus asked.
"21," You answered.
"Ah, the responsible age," Sirius joked, "How has it been?" He asked, trying to make you more comfortable.
"It’s been good," You replied. "More responsibilities now, its been a bit hectic."
"Out of school?" Remus asked.
"Yeah, just finished," You said with a smile.
"What did you study?" He continued.
"Criminal Justice with a minor in Creative Writing."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Remus here is a bit of a writer himself."
You perked up. "Really?"
Remus chuckled. "Just write novels here and there."
"Which ones?" You asked eagerly, looking at him in excitement.
"Probably haven’t heard of them," Remus said, shrugging. "The Idea of the Unknown was one that was popular for a bit," He added casually, and your eyes widened.
"Wait, you wrote The Idea of the Unknown?" You asked in disbelief.
He laughed. "Yeah, that’s me."
He seemed completely nonchalant as he mentioned one of the books that had shaped your entire view on life. You were amazed by how humble he could be about it.
And then it clicked,
He was one of your all time favorite authors.
You almost fainted. "You’re the Remus Lupin?" You asked, excited.
"Surprised you know my work," He said. "I didn’t think your age group read my books."
"I love your books!" You exclaimed. "The story between Ophelia and Duke had me crying for weeks after the ending."
Remus smiled warmly. "I spent fifteen years perfecting that ending. Glad it made an impact."
"But we're glad you love his work," Sirius teased, a sly grin painting his face.
You blushed, mortified. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn this into a meet and greet. I swear I’m not a stalker."
Sirius laughed. "Honestly, this just makes us more sure about you. At least we know you have taste." He nudged your shoulder jokingly.
You felt a bit guilty for not asking more about their kids. "So, what are their names?"
You pointed to a picture of two kids—a boy with dark hair and hazel eyes, and a shy-looking girl with long brown hair. They were both in front of the Christmas tree with matching Rudolph pajamas as the boy smiled confidently in front of the camera and the little girl hid behind him.
"Harry is almost four—he’s a bit of a handful, but he’s brave. Ruby’s shy, but she’s a clever little thing." Remus says, "And don't be fooled by either of them, they love to prank people and be up to no good,"
"They’re both adorable," You said. "I’m sure I’ll love them."
Remus checked his watch. "Actually, they should be back from their walk about now."
And just as he said that, the door opened, and in came a tall man with glasses and black hair that was shorter than Sirius's, carrying Ruby on his back and with Harry hanging from his leg.
Yet another handsome man.
"Okay, go to your daddies," The man said, setting Ruby down. She rushed over to Sirius, while Harry went to Remus, peppering him with questions.
The man turned to you. "And who’s this?" He asked with a grin.
You felt your heart race. "I’m Y/N, the new babysitter," You said, extending a hand.
"James," He said, then surprised you by pulling you into a hug. "Nice to meet you."
Sirius laughed. "He’s a hugger." He picked up Ruby as she pulled on his long locks of hair, earning a pained groan from him as he put her back down, "Not nice," He jokingly pouted as he rubbed his head.
You were too busy by James's embrace to be fully locked on to the kids as his scent infiltrated your nose. James smelled like maple syrup and firewood, and it almost made you dizzy.
When he pulled back, he grinned. "We’re glad to have you."
"Yeah, we need a new face around here," Sirius added as Ruby shyly hid behind his legs.
"Come on, Ruby, say hello," James coaxed, looking at the little girl and nodding his head to you as she went towards you in a shy manner, "She won't bite," James added, trying to help.
You kneeled down to her level. "Unless you want me to," You joked, making her giggle.
"My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?"
"Ruby," She said quietly.
"That’s a pretty name," You said. "You’re pretty too."
Ruby smiled shyly, and you stood up to find a little Harry already approaching you.
"Do you have cookies?" He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.
"Not yet," You laughed.
"Bwoo," Harry pouted, moving over to James as he picked him up.
"Looks like you’re going to be a good fit,"
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little-jana · 3 days ago
Text
"Innocent Accident"
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader
Genre: heated, smutty, 18+, no explicit s*x
Warnings: kissing, touching
Words: 2.2k
Summary: After accidently sending an after fitness selfie to Hotch, month worth of tension breaks.
It all started with one stupid mistake. One accidental slip that I would never live down.
I’d been lounging on my couch after work, still in my yoga leggings and sports bra, scrolling through my phone while waiting for dinner to heat up. My best friend and I had been texting back and forth, and she’d demanded proof that I hadn’t completely abandoned my fitness goals over the holidays.
Reluctantly, I snapped a quick mirror selfie. It was harmless enough—just me standing in the warm light of my apartment, flushed from the workout but still looking decent. I attached it to the text, added a sarcastic caption, and hit send.
Except… I didn’t send it to my best friend.
I sent it to Aaron Hotchner.
My stomach dropped as soon as I realized what I’d done. My finger hovered over the screen as if I could magically pull the message back through sheer force of will. But it was too late.
Aaron Hotchner, my boss, the stoic leader of the BAU, the man who had perfected the art of the unreadable expression, now had a picture of me in workout gear on his phone.
My phone buzzed almost immediately, and my stomach twisted into knots as I opened the message.
Hotch: “I think this may have been sent in error.”
I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or throw my phone into a fire. Instead, I typed back quickly, my fingers trembling: “Oh my god. Hotch, I’m so sorry. That wasn’t meant for you.”
Three dots appeared as he typed, and I held my breath.
Hotch: “No need to apologize. Accidents happen.”
That was it. Short, professional, and completely devoid of emotion. Exactly what I should have expected from him. And yet, something about the message left me uneasy.
The next day at work was unbearable.
Hotch was calm and composed as always, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his eyes lingered on me a little longer than usual. Every time he walked into the room, my pulse quickened, and I felt like I was walking on a tightrope.
I avoided him as much as possible, diving into my work with single-minded focus. But by midday, I knew I couldn’t keep it up.
“Y/N,” his deep voice called from across the bullpen. “Can I see you in my office for a moment?”
My heart leapt into my throat as I nodded, forcing myself to look calm even though my nerves were screaming.
When I stepped into his office, he closed the door behind me, and I suddenly felt very aware of how small the space was.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.
I sat down, folding my hands in my lap to keep them from shaking.
“I just wanted to check in,” he began, his tone gentle. “You’ve seemed… distracted today.”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I’m fine. Really.”
He studied me for a moment, his dark eyes piercing. “Are you sure?”
The weight of his attention was almost too much to bear. My cheeks flushed, and I looked away, fumbling for a response. “I guess I’ve just been… embarrassed about the text,” I admitted finally.
“Y/N,” he said softly, leaning forward slightly. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. It was an innocent mistake.”
His voice was calm, reassuring, but there was something else in his expression—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“I appreciate that,” I said quietly, still avoiding his eyes. “But it’s hard not to feel… self-conscious.”
There was a pause, and then he spoke, his voice lower now, almost a murmur. “For what it’s worth, you looked… strong. Confident.”
I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. Of all the things he could have said, I hadn’t expected that.
His gaze didn’t waver, and I felt a flush creep up my neck as the silence stretched between us.
“Thank you,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said, his tone softening further. “You’re intelligent, capable, and… you’re harder on yourself than you deserve.”
The air between us seemed to shift, growing heavier with each passing moment. I couldn’t look away from him now, my pulse racing as his words sank in.
“Aaron…” I said softly, not even realizing I’d used his first name until it was out of my mouth.
Something flickered in his expression—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. He leaned back slightly, as if trying to put distance between us, but his eyes never left mine.
“You should get back to work,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm.
I nodded, standing on shaky legs. “Right. Of course.”
As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.
“Y/N.”
I turned back, my hand still on the door handle.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, his expression unreadable now, “you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Over the next few days, the tension between us became impossible to ignore.
Hotch kept his professional demeanor, but I couldn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on me when he thought I wasn’t looking, or how his voice softened just a fraction when he spoke to me. It was subtle, but it was there.
For my part, I was a mess. My thoughts were a jumble every time he entered the room, my pulse racing as I replayed his words over and over in my mind.
By the third day, the tension had reached its breaking point.
It was late. Most of the team had already left, and the bullpen was eerily quiet. I’d stayed behind to finish up some lingering paperwork, hoping the monotony would distract me from the mess of emotions swirling inside me.
But then, as if the universe had decided to toy with me, Hotch appeared. His presence was unmistakable—the sound of his polished shoes on the tile floor, the way the air seemed to shift when he was near.
“Still here?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual, though his eyes told a different story.
I nodded, looking up at him. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on me. Finally, he gestured toward his office. “Can I see you for a moment?”
My heart thudded in my chest as I followed him, my nerves thrumming with an anticipation I couldn’t quite name. He closed the door behind us, the quiet click of the lock making the room feel even smaller.
He turned to me, his expression unreadable. But his voice—it wasn’t his usual, measured tone. It was deeper, rougher, laced with something I couldn’t ignore.
“I can’t keep doing this,” he said suddenly, his words cutting through the silence.
I blinked, startled. “Doing what?”
“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between us. “Pretending there’s nothing here. Pretending I don’t feel this… pull every time I’m near you.”
My breath caught in my throat, his words leaving me speechless.
“I’ve tried to ignore it,” he continued, his voice softening but no less intense. “For weeks. Months. But it’s only gotten worse.”
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my ears. “Aaron…”
The sound of his name on my lips seemed to break something in him. In two strides, he closed the distance between us, his hands cupping my face as his lips crashed against mine.
It wasn’t tentative or hesitant—it was hungry, desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long. My hands found their way to his chest, clutching at his shirt as he pressed me back against the door, his body warm and solid against mine.
The kiss deepened, and I could feel the tension that had been building between us for days—weeks—finally snapping. His hands moved down, gripping my waist as he pulled me closer, his touch firm and possessive.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other as we tried to catch our breath.
“This is reckless,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “But I can’t seem to care.”
I smiled, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Then don’t.”
His lips found mine again, slower this time but no less intense. His hands slid up to tangle in my hair, tilting my head back as he deepened the kiss, his control slipping further with every passing second.
“Aaron,” I whispered, the sound of his name sending a shiver through him.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes searching mine. “Tell me to stop,” he said softly, his voice almost pleading. “If this isn’t what you want—”
“It is,” I interrupted, my voice firm despite the breathlessness. “It is.”
That was all the confirmation he needed. He kissed me again, and this time there was no hesitation, no restraint. His hands moved to my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto his desk as he stepped between my legs, his body pressing against mine in a way that left no room for doubt.
The next few minutes were a blur of heat and urgency, of whispered names and stolen breaths. I’d never seen him like this—so undone, so raw—and it only made me want him more.
When we finally pulled apart, our lips swollen and our breathing ragged, he rested his forehead against mine, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“This changes everything,” he murmured, echoing his earlier words.
“Good,” I whispered back, my fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “Because I don’t want to go back to pretending.”
He kissed me again, softer this time but no less fervent, his hands cradling my face like I was something precious. And in that moment, I knew—this wasn’t just a breaking point. It was a beginning.
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i9messi · 1 day ago
Text
Don't break up with me — Oscar Piastri
Because of a misunderstanding, Oscar thinks you want to break up with him. Signals made him suspect he was right, but in fact, you just want to surprise him with a new puppy.
word count — 1,3k
note: i promise you this is pure fluff and romantic stuff. oscar here loves reader soo much, so I hope you enjoy it!
MASTERLIST
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Oscar started to think about the last half of the year. Everything in your relationship had been so wonderful in those last few months, almost too perfect to be real.
You went to support him to his races every weekend, had romantic dates in your favourite places, went to museums and book stores and enjoyed ordinary things such as going together to the market. You had a beautiful relationship, where you supported each other and talked about your concerns as well as your future. Having known each other since you were teens, you and Oscar had talked many times about what you wanted to do in the future: to get marry and start a family.
Your families were very close, his mother loved you and you loved her, even spent time with her when he was not around. Your side of the family adopted him as their son, showing love to him.
There was no way you would break up with him. It made no sense.
However, the signs were there. That morning before heading to the circuit he had called you and you interrupted him, saying you were busy. That would have made sense and it was fine, except then he talked later to his mom and she told him you had been texting her all morning. Why didn’t you want to talk to him?
It was bad. That couldn’t be happening.
“Oscaaaaaaaaaaarr.” Someone shouted and that made him come back to reality.
Lando was in front of him, while he was sitting on the couch. Oscar used to be the most calm in your relationship. He took things easy, used to think before taking action, but now thinking so much was turning him into a person full of insecurity.
“What's wrong?” Lando asked, realizing that his teammate was acting differently than usual.
“Nothing.”
“Is this about your girlfriend?”
Oscar didn't try to hide the truth, not with him. “I think she’s going to break up with me.”
Lando was silent for a moment, until he burst out laughing.
“Don’t laugh, I feel bad. I’m devastated.”
“She’s not gonna break up with you, mate.”
You didn’t live together yet, you hadn’t taken that step in your relationship yet, but you practically lived next to each other. Your apartments in Monaco were only a few meters away. Yesterday he had invited you on a date and you told him that you couldn’t go. Lately it was as if you didn't want to spend your time together, as if his mere presence was annoying to you.
“How are you so sure?”
“Because you're the perfect couple. You love each other, you show the world how adorable you are, and then make everyone else feel miserable.”
“I don’t think that’s true anymore, Lando.”
“Go talk to her, then. Crying and feeling bad about it won’t solve a thing. Go and win back your lady.”
Oscar listened to his teammate, knew he couldn’t waste time or the opportunity to talk with you. He found you just a few minutes later and you hugged him, while he left a kiss on your forehead.
“Baby, I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Oscar. Congratulations for the race, I'm very proud of you.”
That had to mean something, didn’t it? If you hadn’t missed him and if you didn’t want him more in your life, you wouldn’t have answered that. Oscar was trying to convince himself that he still had a chance with you.
“Let’s go to my house.” he suggested, as you raised your head and looked at him with a face that showed no feelings.
“We better go to mine. We need to talk.”
Damn. You were going to break up with him. You never spoke like that, you had never said those words before.
On the way to your apartment in Monaco, he drove quietly. Oscar noticed you were nervous. You ran your hand through your hair and barely spoke. You were acting strange. He was increasingly convinced that once you arrived at your home, you would tell him that you wanted to break up with him.
The road was eternal and the worst of the worst. You arrived and stayed in the living room.
“Would you like some water?”
“Yes, please.”
You went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and came back a few seconds later. He drank the water in a single instant, too thirsty and nervous.
“Is something wrong, Oscar?”
“Do you want to break up with me?”
You stayed silent, until Oscar spoke again. His eyes were shining, his hair was messy from all the times he had passed his hands over it.
“Don’t break up with me, please. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, you're my everything. I love you, that’s all I know. If I did something wrong just tell me, I'll try my best to not make the same mistake again."
“Oscar, baby…”
He hesitated, but he walked a step closer to you. Oscar was trying to not lose his mind.
“We can’t break up."
His supplicant gaze begged you not to leave him, not when he needed you so much.
“I love you and my life would be shattered without you.”
And something happened. You smiled.
“Oscar, I’m not breaking up with you. I don’t know what made you think I would.”
Calm made Oscar relax, but he remained confused. He was very sure of all the signs he had seen, he wasn't crazy and he was not imagining things. You had been acting strangely in those last days.
“Then why have you been acting so weird?”
“Wait for me, I’ll be right back!”
You left and came back a while later with something in your arms. A little puppy.
“It’s for you, honey.”
Oscar couldn’t help but come closer to you to see the puppy. The animal looked at him with a little mistrust, but once his hand came to caress the dog, the puppy began to move his tail with happiness, while you saw him with a smile on your face.
“A dog? For me?”
“It was a surprise. I talked with your mum about it and she even helped me. When you'll be busy with work stuff, I will be taking care of him.”
Your boyfriend grabbed the animal in his arms, the puppy ran his tongue over his face and Oscar squinted his eyes, while he couldn't stop feeling his heart beating frantically in his chest.
“l didn't expect this, thank you.”
“I would never break up with you, Oscar. You make me happy. That’s why I thought of adopting a puppy for you.”
“Then why were you acting so weird?”
“Because I wanted it to be a surprise. Yesterday I went to get him and that’s why I canceled our plans. Today the puppy peed in the clothes I was going to wear, just when you called. Also, he started barking and didn’t want you to find out. It was my little secret.”
Oscar had never been so happy, he left a kiss on your lips. Your mouths joined and he smiled so happily.
“I love you, you made me the happiest man in the world.”
“We have our little family now, Oscar. We are parents of a dog.”
Even as you planned to start a family when you were old enough, sharing the life of a pet was everything to him. Sharing the care and affection of a puppy made his tender and loving part appear.
“I love you and I love this animal. I will take care of you and him for my whole life.”
You weren't breaking up with him, that was the best part of all.
376 notes · View notes
brokenmenswhore · 18 hours ago
Text
a proposition: a return | poly!marauders
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#4
pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, marlene, and mary)
warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), voyeurism
a/n: if you’ve requested to be on the taglist but didn’t get tagged, check the taglist at the bottom to see if your account is unlinked, and if so check your settings to make sure i can tag you! i added everyone’s @ even if it didn’t let me tag an account to it. also i don’t have it in me to proofread 17 times anymore sorry for any errors
a proposition: masterlist
────── ☾ ──────
When you approached the girls, who were seated around their usual Gryffindor table after class for a study session, you were immediately thrown by the unfamiliar face among them.
“Y/N! Come sit!”
Lily’s usual excitement shone through as she patted the empty spot on the bench next to her. You tentatively sat down, hoping someone would introduce you to the unfamiliar person, but she was occupying the group too much to even take notice of you.
“And they call the bin a trash can. I mean talk about being literal, right? I swear, if one more person over there called something by the exact descriptor of what it was, I would have thrown a book at their head.”
The table chuckled at her story.
“Marlene, this is Y/N,” Lily chimed in once the girl was done speaking.
Marlene turned her head toward you, scanning the visible portion of your body before landing on your face. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you responded, flushed and uncomfortable.
“So you’re a part of this group now?” Marlene asked completely unprompted.
You were slightly taken aback. “Yeah, yeah, I guess.”
“Well you either are or you aren’t.”
You stared at her for a moment, unsure of how to act. You had never met this person, and now she was snapping at you. “I am.”
Instead of responding to you, Marlene turned to Lily and said, “I thought this was a set thing? Since when do we let new people in?”
“God, Marls, it’s not like there’s a rule book,” Dorcas said.
“We literally all agreed, Dorcas,” Marlene bounced back.
“And we all agreed to include Y/N,” Lily smiled, refusing to include herself in the tension of the conversation.
“I didn’t,” Marlene responded, leaning on her elbows over the table in a confrontational stance.
“You weren’t here,” Dorcas fought.
Marlene took a deep breath before grabbing her books and standing up. “I’ll see you guys later,” she said, exiting the Great Hall in a huff.
You looked around in hopes that someone, anyone, would explain to you exactly what just happened. Instead, the table stayed quiet, refusing to acknowledge any of it as they continued studying.
You were too nervous to ask, so you pretended like nothing happened as you pulled out your books.
The next day, in between classes, you ran into Sirius in the library. You were met with two consecutive free blocks, which allowed you time to study. Sirius, on the other hand, just didn’t feel like attending charms.
“Aren’t you usually in class right now?” he said, catching you browsing through the shelves of books.
“Mhm.”
“You’re skipping?”
“I have it free today.”
Sirius furrowed his brow as he studied your face. It was unlike you to be so dry in your answers.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, engrossed in your own thoughts about Marlene and her reaction to you. You hadn’t realized how you were speaking to Sirius.
“Wanna sit for a second?” Sirius said, nonchalant as if your answer wouldn’t phase him.
“Sure,” you shrugged, approaching a nearby table.
Sirius sat across from you, studying your face as you tried to arrange your books. You peered up at him for a second, noticing his gaze but pretending you didn’t.
You thought about speaking, but weren’t capable of acting as though you weren’t bothered. If this person was part of the group, surely Sirius knew her already, so you decided to test it out.
“Marlene’s back, you know,” you said, as if you were completely in the know about everything regarding this mysterious new person.
“I know,” Sirius responded, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
You waited to see if he would elaborate any further, but he simply sat there, smoking his cigarette, staring at you.
“I didn’t even know she existed until this morning,” you said, “is there a reason no one told me? She was pretty cold to me.”
“That’s just Marlene,” Sirius brushed it off. He seemed as if he didn’t want to talk about it, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing it.
“Where has she been? I’ve never seen her before,” you asked.
Sirius sighed. “She spent a year at Ilvermorny.”
You were getting frustrated from how little information Sirius was giving you. He was strategically only answering your exact question, and only doing so in the most concise way possible.
“Why?” you pressed.
“Wanted a year away,” he said.
You sighed. “Sirius, you’re not giving me much.”
Sirius sat upward, leaning his elbows on the table and smiling in amusement at your interest. “Why so curious?”
“Just wondering what happened is all.”
Sirius saw the intrigue on your face and caved. “She took a year away from here after a bunch of drama happened. She was falling pretty hard for someone in our group and that person wasn’t really the monogamous type. They got in a huge fight, the whole group was there- it got really messy. She couldn’t take it anymore and decided to transfer schools. Guess she’s back now,” he finally explained.
“She wasn’t supposed to come back?”
“I have no idea. She only told Dorcas she was leaving. That’s the only reason we all knew.”
You nodded your head, flipping through the pages of a textbook as if this new information meant nothing of importance to you.
“So she left the group?”
Sirius sighed. “She left the school, Y/N. I don’t think anyone expected her to show back up.”
“So she never officially left the group.”
“Why would it matter?” Sirius smiled, “you jealous of her or somethin’?”
“What? No,” you said, “I just didn’t know this person existed and she was a real bitch to me earlier. Just wondering why.”
Sirius leaned an arm over the table and put his hand over yours. “You have nothin’ to worry about.”
The gesture was unlike Sirius, but you appreciated it nevertheless, and you smiled at him to show it.
────── ☾ ──────
“So you’re in this now, hm?”
You, startled by the sudden voice, whipped your head around to see Marlene McKinnon jogging to catch up to you in the hallway.
“Yeah,” you said as you continued on your route to class.
“What’s so special that you’ve got Sirius Black asking for you to join? You that good of a lay? The whore of Hufflepuff?”
You stopped on your tracks, wiping stray hairs out of your face as you huffed, “what?”
“I just mean, Sirius isn’t really one to pick and choose,” she said, sizing you up, “you must have gotten a glowing endorsement from someone. Let me guess, Remus?”
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you brushed her off.
“Sirius Black wouldn’t invite a lower-year virgin into our little group,” Marlene said, “he just wouldn’t. So fess up.”
“This is insane,” you said, turning forward and beginning to walk again.
Marlene stepped in front of you, cutting you off as you nearly walked straight into her.
“I have class,” you stated dryly.
“You won’t last, you know,” Marlene started, “once the shiny new toy gets played with a few times, they’ll get bored and throw it away.”
“What’s your problem?” you said, surprising yourself with your confrontation. Being in this group was making you more confident in yourself.
“Don’t have one,” Marlene said, “just trying to get the scoop, since I was so rudely left out.”
“I have class,” you repeated.
“Oh, don’t let me stop you, but I should warn you that those boys don’t tend to stick with the good girls.”
“That’s too bad, since I’m already in the group,” you fought back, sick of her insults.
“For now,” Marlene said, smiling triumphantly and she stepped to the side.
You shot her a look before walking off.
────── ☾ ──────
When you’d confided in Dorcas how Marlene had been treating you, you didn’t anticipate that she would become quite so enraged, pulling you around and collecting all the members of your group until you were all together.
Fuming, Dorcas finally took a seat.
“What’s goin’ on?” James asked.
“A good ol’ Dorcas summoning,” Evan joked.
Dorcas sat in silence, nostrils flaring as she stared at Marlene.
“Well?” Marlene said, legs and arms crossed, “what is it?”
“Have you been threatening Y/N?”
Marlene immediately threw her hands up. “What am I, on trial? Fuck this.”
She began to stand, but Sirius stood as well. “Sit down,” he said, and she sighed, but did as she was told.
You were taken aback by how serious he was being. You hasn’t even told him what Marlene said to you.
“I didn’t threaten her,” Marlene said.
“So you didn’t tell her she’s a toy we’ll all get bored of playing with?”
The heads in the room all turned to Marlene. “Why does it matter? If she can’t handle being part of this, then she shouldn’t be a part of it.”
“You can’t just bully her out because you’re jealous.”
“Jealous of what, Dorcas? Hm? The fact she’s in the goodie two-shoes house?”
“Guys,” you tried to chime in, but it got lost in the tension.
“Oh, you know what,” Dorcas spat.
Dorcas and Marlene both stood, their voices growing louder and louder.
“No, I don’t. Tell me Dorcas, what the fuck do I have to be jealous of? Some young little girl who doesn’t even know how to fuck?”
“Guys,” you tried again.
“Why did you even come back, Marlene?” Dorcas retaliated.
“What, you didn’t miss me?”
“One day you’re my best friend, and the next you just leave a note like ‘oh! I can’t do it anymore and I’m transferring to America, bye!’ and I’m just supposed to jump up and down in joy when you suddenly decide we’re worthy enough to have you back?”
Marlene plopped back into her chair. “This is bullshit, I’m not doing this. Did you really call us all here just to yell at me in front of everyone?”
“No,” Dorcas said, “I called us all here to vote you out.”
The room stilled for a moment before Marlene scoffed. “To vote me out?”
“Guys!” you finally yelled, and it caught their attention, “can we please calm down?”
“You wanna vote me out? Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not kidding you.”
Marlene and Dorcas stared at each other, intensity in their eyes as Remus finally tried to calm the situation down.
“Marlene, things are a little different than when you were here before,” Remus said, “I think it’s only fair that you’re either okay with that, or you’re out.”
“Oh yeah?” Marlene replied, “and what’s different? Besides the Huffle-slut.”
You threw your hands in the air, exhausted of Marlene’s inexplicable hatred toward you.
“Well, for starters, are you over him?” Remus asked.
Marlene stared at Remus blankly, almost as if she was trying to think her way out of answering, but couldn’t.
You looked around the room, but everyone was too focused on Marlene’s answer to provide you with any explanation. You couldn’t help but feel left out of something.
“Yeah,” Marlene shrugged.
“I don’t believe you,” Dorcas said.
“Go cry about it,” Marlene spat.
“Stop, fuckin’ hell,” Remus sighed, “are you or are you not okay with Y/N being here?”
“Clearly I’m not, mom.”
Remus huffed and stood up. “Well, fuck this, I’m done trying,” he said, walking over to the ashtray and flicking embers off the butt of his cigarette.
The room stilled, everyone unsure of what to do.
“You guys shouldn’t have agreed on anyone new without me,” Marlene spoke up.
“Bloody hell, you were gone, you fucking idiot,” Dorcas said, “and we had no reason to think you were coming back. What were we gonna do, send an owl? Fuck off.”
“Can she even fuck?”
“Give it a rest, Marlene,” Sirius spoke up.
“No, I wanna know. Can you fuck?” she said, turning to you.
Your eyes widened. “I’m not dignifying that with an answer,” you stated.
“Prove it.”
“Prove what?”
“Prove that you can fuck like a big girl.”
You looked around the group in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“Pick someone here, and prove it.”
“Marlene, come on, shut the fuck u-“
Sirius was cut off by Marlene pressing on, “pick someone and let’s get on with it, Hufflepuff.”
A feeling shot straight to your core at the thought of having to fuck someone in front of the entire group. You were too worked up.
You looked up at Remus, who had been your obsession and your safe person thus far, and waited to see his expression. Marlene noticed your attention turn to him.
“Remus it is,” she said, moving the coffee table away from the center of the room, “hurry up. Let’s go.”
“I don’t think-“ Remus started.
“You know what? Fuck you, Marlene,” Dorcas said, rushing over to you.
Dorcas leaned down and kissed you hard, the kiss full of intensity and fire and anger. You were startled, but quickly started to kiss her back. This was your group, not hers anymore. If she wanted to see you fuck, she’d get a good show before she was kicked out.
Dorcas dropped to her knees in front of you. She propped one of your legs up against the armrest on the side of the couch.
Dorcas propped up your other leg and pushed it toward James, who was sitting right next to you. “Hold her, will ya?” Dorcas said.
James nodded, taking hold of your right leg.
With your legs widespread, your skirt bunched up at your waist.
“You consent?” Dorcas asked.
You nodded your head yes.
Dorcas wasted no time pushing your underwear to the side and diving in, flattening her tongue against you and moving up and down.
Your head tilted backward as you sighed, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried not to focus on the several pairs of eyes on you. You leaned onto James, trying to somewhat hide your face in his neck,
Dorcas was someone you’d always assumed would be rough in the bedroom, and she was angry and worked up over the Marlene situation, however, you were surprised by how soft and gentle she was being. You knew it was intentional for you.
She was in no rush, moving her tongue slowly against you. You thought of something Lily had told you previously: Girls give better head because they know what truly feels good.
You whimpered each time Dorcas swirled her tongue particularly well, and James lightly rubbed his thumb across your leg, comforting you on top of the pleasure.
“Jeez,” Evan spoke from across the room.
Marlene slouched in her chair in a huff, her eyes fixed on everyone else in the room, trying to gage their reactions to you.
You let out a light squeal when Dorcas began to trace around your hole with her finger, alerting you of an oncoming intrusion.
She slowly slipped one finger inside of you, again in no rush as you softly moaned at the sensation. Her mouth never detached from you as she began to pump her finger in and out of you.
James stroked your thigh with his fingers as he watched Dorcas eat you out, occasionally kissing the top of your head to remind you that you were okay. He also just wanted the validation of feeling included. James liked to feel needed.
Everyone was watching intently, turned on by the sight in front of them. Marlene was focused on everyone else, and Sirius took a drag of his cigarette every time James leaned in to kiss your head.
“Shit, I-“
You spoke so low that only James could hear it. James tapped Dorcas to warn her that you were about to come, and instead of following through, she stood up and backed away from you.
You instinctively closed your legs, remaining in your comfortable position against James.
“That wasn’t shit,” Marlene said, “you really want that in here?”
“Who said we were done?” Dorcas spat back.
Dorcas grabbed Remus’s arm and pulled him over to the empty space on the rug where the coffee table used to be.
Remus looked at Dorcas expectantly, but she just raised her eyebrows and gestured toward the floor.
Remus threw his hands up. “Yeah, it’s a nice rug.”
Dorcas sighed and pushed his shoulders until he was kneeling on the floor.
“You could have just fuckin’ told me where you wanted me, damn,” Remus said.
“Y/N?”
You were still slouched into James, trying to calm your breathing despite your core being on fire from the abrupt stop to your pleasure. “Mhm,” you vocalized.
When you didn’t receive an answer, you forced your eyes open to see the entire room staring at you.
“Think you’re needed down there, angel,” James whispered to you, nodding toward Remus.
You took a deep breath. You dropped to your knees and sat in front of Remus. He leaned in to your ear and whispered, “I’m gonna take care of you, baby.”
He kissed your cheek before he adjusted himself to a lay, sprawled out against the rug and waiting for you to sit on him.
You adjusted your legs around his waist, grateful Dorcas didn’t take your skirt fully off. You were still clothed and modest to the group.
“Remus doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Marlene said.
“Don’t you speak for me, I’m doing just fine down here,” Remus said, placing his hands behind his head as he watched you in amusement.
You blindly undid Remus’s belt, pulling it off of him as you began to unbutton his jeans. Remus pushed his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his already hard cock.
You began to pull your underwear to the side, but a voice stopped you.
“No no,” Marlene said, “fuckin’ amateur. Don’t you know Remus needs a little something first?”
You knew she was just messing with you and trying to prove that she knew everyone better than you, but you felt like you knew Remus above everyone in the room.
But, if she wanted a show, you’d give her a show.
You slowly backed up on your knees until you were between Remus’s legs. You remained on your knees, allowing your ass to stick upward and your skirt to fall onto your back, exposing your backside, as your hands found Remus’s cock.
You looked to Lily, who had taught you the little you knew so far, and she nodded at you so as to say “you got this.” Her approving nod gave you confidence.
You licked a stripe from the base of Remus’s cock to the tip before sinking down on the entire length. Remus was large, too large to fit entirely in your mouth without deepthroating, but you didn’t care. You were running on pure lust, anger, and adrenaline.
Remus was looking down at you, but when his tip hit the back of your throat, he slammed his head back against the floor, a satisfied moan leaving his lips.
You pulled away almost entirely before sinking back down again, deepthroating him once more.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Remus sighed.
You swallowed in uncomfortability at the feeling of his cock in your throat, which only added to his pleasure.
“Bloody hell, you can see him in your throat, Y/N,” Lily said, “do that again.”
You looked up at Remus, who looked down to see what Lily was talking about. You swallowed again, and Remus could see the slight bulge of his cock in the top of your throat.
“Holy fuck.”
You pulled away and began to suck him normally, maintaining a steady rhythm. You couldn’t taste all of him without deepthroating, so you used your hand to account for the base of his length.
You looked up at Marlene, who scoffed and looked away as you kept your gaze on her, evidently showing her your confidence and ability as you sucked off Remus.
Marlene looked around the room and saw everyone’s eyes trained on you. Sirius adjusted his position in his seat, and James was nearly salivating.
“Okay, enough, get to it then,” Marlene said.
You pulled off of Remus, making a show of wiping your lower lip as you moved upward until you were sitting on top of Remus.
His hands found your waist without hesitation. He was lost in pleasure and lust, eager to feel you again.
You pushed your underwear to the side and held onto Remus’s length with one hand, positioning it at your entrance.
You slowly sank down, watching Remus’s face for any uncomfortability, but he was immediately just to happy to be inside of you that he pushed his hips up.
You gasped at the sudden feeling of a thrust, and Remus snapped open his eyes and looked up at you.
“You okay?”
You leaned down and kissed Remus. “Fuck me, Rem.”
Remus used one hand to hold your hair as he pulled you back into a kiss, and the other hand gripped your waist to hold you in place as he began to fuck up into you.
You dropped your head into the crook of his neck, and he held your head there, happy to have a few moments where he was the only one who could hear your small whimpers and whines. James was right: he did enjoy being special to you.
Dorcas knelt beside your bodies and wrapped her fingers in your hair, pulling back until you were seated up. She tugged at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up over your head. She then unclasped your bra and pulled the straps off of your arms.
She hungrily kissed you, keeping you sat up so that your body was on full display for everyone in the room.
She kissed down from your neck to your breasts, sucking on your nipple as you threw your head back in pleasure.
You felt a sudden pang of embarrassment, but it was quickly gone as you looked to your right. Alecto was pressing her legs together for dear life, Evan was holding a pillow between his legs, and Sirius was staring you dead in the eyes.
You stared back for a moment, matching his eye contact. He coughed on cigarette smoke, something he never did as a veteran smoker, but continued to look back at you.
Your attention was pulled by Dorcas, who kissed you again as Remus’s thrusts grew harder and faster.
You moaned out as you threw your head back, trying to lift your hips in rhythm with Remus, but he was thrusting a little too fast for you.
Dorcas noticed, and she crawled behind you, kneeling on the floor as she held your body against hers, ensuring you remained seated upward and on display.
She kissed the side of your neck, sucking on a sweet spot as you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to get lost in the pleasure. You tried not to think about Marlene or the voyeurism, but just to be present in the moments of pleasure.
Your moans grew higher in pitch until you began to clench around Remus.
“Fuck, Remus, I- shit, I can’t-“
“No fucking cop outs,” Marlene said.
Embarrassment flooded your cheeks. Saying it was hard. “I- I’m-“
“Merlin, Y/N, please say it,” Remus spoke through erratic breaths below you.
You took a deep breathe. “I- I’m gonna come, Remmy, please-“
Remus snapped his hips hard, hitting your sweet spot and causing you to come with just a few more thrusts. Dorcas held you through your high, causing your legs to shake and your body to nearly convulse from the intensity as Remus came in succession.
You blinked your eyes open, trying to catch your breath as Dorcas kissed your temple and stood up.
You wiped sweat from your forehead and looked down at Remus, who put his hands behind his head again and smiled up at you.
“Stay there as long as you like.”
You giggled and leaned down to kiss Remus as Dorcas gave you back your shirt.
With Remus still in you, you pulled your shirt over your head and looked at Marlene, eyebrows raised.
“Good enough for you?” you grinned.
Marlene shrugged, clearly bothered. “Nothing I couldn’t do better.”
“I beg to differ,” Remus sighed, “not a lot could top that.”
You leaned down and kissed Remus before carefully lifting your hips and sitting back on the floor. You knew better than to try to stand.
Remus took a moment before covering himself back up, and you both sat on the floor with your backs against the couch. No one said anything.
“Didn’t think you could get any hotter, but fuck was I wrong,” Evan said.
“Are you always the horniest one in the room?” you joked.
“I don’t know, is he?” Marlene said, turning toward Sirius.
Sirius flicked embers into an ashtray. “Meaning?”
Marlene’s voice was not as confident as before. “You seemed to enjoy the show.”
“Oh, come on, Marlene, don’t start shit right now. You got what you wanted, you saw her fuck. You in or out?”
Marlene looked around the room, and everyone was focused on her. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.
“I’m already in. I never left the group,” she said dryly.
“One more shot,” Remus said, and Dorcas tried to speak up in protest, but Remus shushed her. “One more shot, but if you pull any shit, you’re out.”
Dorcas threw her hands in the air. “You come and suddenly you’re in a nice mood?”
“Y/N?” Remus said, looking to you, “that seem fair?”
You looked up at Marlene. She was clearly insecure about someone in this group, and if she left right now, you’d never find out who. Regardless, you didn’t feel like drama. If she stayed, whatever.
“Whatever.”
────── ☾ ──────
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your-werewolf-boyfriend · 25 minutes ago
Text
Listen to me
Listen very closely
The above is exactly why half of my friends come to me, and cry they're suffering, and I get to bestow my job hunting knowledge on them. I love this shit, it's a game.
For credentials my fastest job hunting time has been 1 week. I searched for 1 week, got an interview, and was hired within a week. My slowest was 1 month, while out of work, while telling ALL my interviewers that I quit my work without notice (I was testing my interviewers to see how shocked they'd get when I'd tell them why, anyone who wasn't shocked I would tell them at the end that I will keep them in mind (not)). My entire average is 2-3 weeks.
Firstly, what you're gunna do is pick a job sector. You're gunna pick a few of these by the end, but for now pick one. Maybe you wanna do bookkeeping, maybe you wanna do something in doggy daycare. Maybe you're a sous chef. Idk! Figure out what abouts you want first. Do not apply to anything yet. You're gunna look at the job description, I've picked out a few for bookkeepers below.
Now what you're gunna do is you're gunna look for "buzz words", or rather words that are gunna appear commonly and indicate the tone for that job. I've highlighted some, but not all in my examples below
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Just look at that snout at how similar those descriptions are!
Now that you've got your buzzwords, you're gunna slap those babies into your resume! You see, since your resume is usually read by a computer first, you're gunna trick the computer into giving it to a person. Really what the computer is scanning for is how similar your resume is to the job description. Remember your bullet points, and to keep it short, try to only have 3 to 5 bullet points per job:
- Processed over 500 invoices a day in an efficient and accurate manner
- Curated reports for management review by utilizing available data
- Monitored and recorded over 100 submissions each day increasing accuracy by 50%
These are some great, made up examples I pulled from those buzz words. You might notice I added some numbers into there. That's something you'll wanna try and note for yourself, how much of something you can do, how accurate, how much efficiency you increased, these look GREAT when your resume gets past the computer and is moved in front of a real person.
Now you have your sector-based resume with lots of buzzwords. This is great! Now for the easy part. You're gunna channel your inner "IDGAF" And you're gunna send that to every listing you like on indeed. Filter for "Apply on Indeed" and spam that shit. Sometimes you gotta answer a few extra questions, but if they give me more than 5 quick questions I trash the submission and move on.
Don't waste your time jumping through hoops, streamline it for yourself and use the same methods companies are using. Push MASSIVE amounts of average quality resumes out. The more opportunities taken = the greater the chance of success. For every opportunity taken you've now pitched a chance of success, for every resume you cannot submit because you're piddling around on their stupid website or answering 50 interview questions online, you send out a 0% chance of success.
So go, try this, and see how it works for you.
Some additional things to consider:
- Add random shit in your resume, I added my "Board Game Club" (BDSM group) into my resume for hobbies and discussed how I got my start using sparklines there
- Never underestimate the flair of a little Clipart fleur-de-lis or something on your resume. Never put colored Clipart, but a little floral or swirl design located somewhere nice makes it stand out
- if you don't have a degree that doesn't mean they won't pick you, twice now I've come to a job without a bachelors and being honest that I was only getting an associates before I think of my next steps
- Embellish, do not lie. Jargoning your job description to make it sound cool and professional is GREAT. Do not give me a resume saying you can use CNC machinery when you've only used a 3D printer. Just tell me you know how to program and manage a 3d printer and want to learn CNC machinery.
- Keep. Your. Resume. To. Two. Or. Less. Pages. You don't need EVERY job, only the relevant ones, if your interviewer asks about the gap, tell them what job you had during that time (or if you wanna lie say you were taking college courses and were on a break, you dont need a degree to say you took courses) and that you only wanted to showcase the most relevant ones
- I'm serious on that last one I'll eat your fucking resume
Hey kid you want a job?
Great get online and go to a job board. Indeed, Linkedin whatever. Now you're gonna search for a role that's in your city, fits your qualifications, and doesn't seem like a bad time.
See that easy apply button? Don't hit it they just throw those in the trash. Now you're gonna want to go to the company's website and check their careers page.
Oh? That job doesn't exist anymore. Cool go back to the job board and find another one.
Great you found another job, you're on the company's career page and the job exists!! So you're going to need to make an account on the career page website. They're using Workday, the same site as the last job you applied for? Who cares? You need to make another account for THIS job's workday page.
Now you're going to upload your resume. That'll autopopulate about 15 boxes with everything on your resume, except formatted wrong and with tons of errors. So just go through and painstakingly check the dates on all of that and rewrite everything you already laid out in an aesthetically pleasing format on your resume.
Ok time for the cover letter, explain why this specific job and company are deeply important to you. You love their mission statement and wouldn't even laugh if their ceo was gunned down in the street. You'll really want to reiterate the things you just spent the last 20 minutes filling out on the resume section
(Remember to include language from the job description, people who work in HR are lower than dogs and they need patterns or they get confused.) Write about a page, but hey don't sound too desperate or robotic this is where they judge your character!
Maybe add your portfolio site at the end here, who knows if that helps no one has ever clicked mine haha.
Anywayyy time to hit apply! Congrats! You'll see that confirmation email come in and you should be getting the rejection letter in about 2 weeks. Unfortunately your resume didn't have the right buzzwords and the AI auto rejected you :(
Time to start again and try not to kill yourself!
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Text
Kitten | The Salesman x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Something about you catchs his eyes. Now he wants you all for himself.
Warnings: Obsess!Salesman - Canon violence - Sugesstive - Manipulation - Reader loves cats - Maybe OOC - Kind of pet play - E/C = eye color - Reader gets called Kitten -
Another morning, another day ahead, names to meet and recruit, a speech that was deep in his mind.
His movements were calculated, robotic, his smile a fake one, to hide the disgust he felt towards the peopel he had to met.
The last hour, the last train and last name. Your name. The Salesman did his usual thing while waiting for you to appear, get himself a coffee from a cheap machine and let his mind wonder.
Even if he had read your file in order to have the upper hand in the exchange, he was curious to see how you truly were, how would you react to his approach, what would you say or do once he told you about the game.
Maybe the work of the day was getting him, his eyes did let (only for the observant ones) that he was tired to not degree.
One more, one more worm and I can go home.
The train came, lots of faces walked pass him, he only wanted to find yours and put an end to his day.
Finally He saw you, you were looking at your phone, smiling? Well he guessed even someone in your situation could smile.
Maybe you got a lover back home.
He saw how you took a seat, most likely to rest after a long day at your underpaid work, that did not cover any of the debts you had. Yet you did not look discouraged or sad, you were rather animated by what your body language gave out.
Feets moving side to side like a song was playing only for you. That smile and a spark in your eyes...
How dumb yet cute.
Still, he needed to end the day and your name was the last one. So there he went, moving with confidence till he took a seat besides you, his trusted briefcase close.
"Miss.." He tried to get your attention but nothing, you were too deep in your phone writing something. He dared to take a look.
What in-
Cats. Multiple pictures of cats. Different colors, shapes and ages.
It was not the most strange thing he had seen from someones phone but still...
A new photo came in, it was a cat, rather slim with one leg missing but it seemed full of life.
"Im glad you are fine" He hear your whisper thanks to the sitation now out of peopel and that even if you whispered it was rather loud. Most likely you had no sense of self preservation or did check your surroundings since he was able to basically see your phone screen and your messages for...four minutes?
Yes, defently too much for the little patience he had, he wanted to end his day now.
"Excusme Miss" He tried again this time louder and it did finally caught your attention.
You turned to him, too lost checking your cats and how they were doing so far. You never noticed the man besides you. He was tall, black hair and wearing a suit. You could tell it was a rather expensive one, at his feets was a briefcase.
Ah Salesman, he must sells life saves or something.
"Sorry Sir, im in no position to buy anything" You said looking at his dark eyes and bowing then you went back to check your phone.
Well someone ignoring him was not a first.
"Miss, im not here to sell you anything" He started getting your attention back with a rather funny and confused look on your face. "Im here to ask you to play a game with me"
"...A game?" You asked not really beliving your ears. What man would ask a stranger to play a game with them at 11 p.m. in a subway station?
Was this a scam ? A trap maybe ?
Ah, the confusion, he was used to get that too and could only give you a polite fake smile back.
"Yes a game, a game of ddakji" He clarifited pulling from his suit pocket two papper pieces, one blue and other red. "If you manage to win I will give you ₩100.000" He recite just as he always did.
Your eyes opened a bit after that information, while it would not help you that much it would be free money...you could get a warm dinner, something that your current situation did not let you do.
But, there was not a thing as simple as free money, right ? There must be a catch.
"And what would happen if I lose?" You asked him, the hesitation in your voice was clear for The Salesman who just smiled again.
"If you lose, you pay me back ₩100,00. But I doubt you will lose in a childs game" He added trying to incite you to engage in the game.
He studied your face, you were thinking about it, temped by it. Even if the money was not enough, the chance was all it needed to start a chain of thoughts in your mind and finally accept.
And while you were indeed thinking a ring from your phone took your attention away, a new message a new cat pic.
Right, I cant do this. You thought.
"Sorry Sir I must refuse" You started giving him a bow "Even if my chances of winning were high, Im not in position to give you ₩100,000 if I lose. It would not be fair to you" You smiled at him thinking all of this was ending.
He blinked a bit taken back, not because you refused, he had deal with that before, but what you said.
Fair.
The world was not fair. The information in your file let that clear, it was obvious that you knew it.
Then why not take advantage of this? Even If he was just giving you the illusion of money, why not try ? And more, why be worried over whats fair ?
"May I ask why you cant play with me?" He finally said, pulling the pappers back inside his suit pocket. "Its not a big amount of money and I would not make fun of you if you lose"
He was trying for you to feel safe, maybe you were nervous he would judge you ? He knew he could be quiet intimidating
"Oh! Well its rather...embarrassing" You responded, nervously biting your lower lip then looking at the ground.
The Salesman's eyes lingered over your lips, the way you just bite them. Maybe he was getting tired but something from that action  just called him, made his body react.
"It cant be that bad" He tried again, trying to sound gentle
"Well, im in debt because my ex-boyfriend ran away with the money for the Cat Shelter we had together, took away all my savings and I ended in debt cause of it" Your tone did let him know you were angry, sad, frustrated and ashamed.
Well, he did know. But hearing out loud did make it sound funnier he could not lie to himself.
But seeing your face now, that sad look and how you had looked so happy earlier at the cat pics (probably some cats you managed to save and find a home before all things went wrong). It made him feel bad for you, something he never felt towards anyone in his line of work.
"Mhm so your ex-boyfriend ran away and then you kept the shelter by yourself?"
He cant lie, it was a cute reason.
But stupid no less.
"I did, we had too many cats and all of them were sick. They needed someone, I could not ignore them" You tried to explain, a sad smile now on your face as you remember the old promises and memories.
And look where that took you.
"I dont hope that you get it, most peopel laughts when I tell them. Even the load sharks had got a good one" You said pulling out your phone and looking at something while the Salesman let his mind wonder.
You were right. He did not get it. It was something he would never do, an act so compassionate towards a creature...it was not in his nature.
"Look, this is Fat Luigi" He hear you said as you showed him your phone with the image of a big fluffy black cat. "When we first got him he was underwheight, most vets told us he would not make it. It was hard, I passed many nights awake taking care of him, and spent lots of money on him. But now seeing him healthy and happy, it just makes it worth it"
"But are you happy right now? Arent you afraid of your debts?" He asked, curious to know how your brain was working under the stress you most likely had.
"Happy...., well I cant say I love my life right now, I work long hours and the job its bad, I have load sharks on my back and the place where the shelter is will most likely be destroyed since I cant pay..."
He nodded listening to you.
"But im not sad. Yes the situation sucks but when i see the cats i managed to help...honestly even if it sounds crazy, I would do it again" You ended giving him a tired yet honest smile. One that made his heart beat a bit faster.
For a few moments he did not say a thing, his mind wondering, he was not sure what, something about you made him feel slighty different.
Maybe it was your wish to help ? Even when you had passed and suffered ? How you still wanted to play fair ?
You two were different in many ways.
"You would?" He asked seeing you nodd without thinking "And tell me, do I look like a cat person ? Would you get me one if you still had your shelter ?" He continued now trying to entertain himself.
You defenetly were not made for the games.
"Well, you do give the energy of a cat person" By the look on his face he was amused "I mean, you seem like you pass many hours outside your home, cats do need their humans but they can work fine alone for a few hours, you would need to pet them for a bit once you get back"
"Oh I see, and what more?" He leaned in closer, his elbow resting on his knee, one hand holding his face as he turned himself to you invading your personal space.
"You seem like someone who will prefer company thats not always over them demanding attention and cats often give you that, well depends on the cat" You explained blushing at his proximity.
"Then, dont you think it would be better for me to get a kitten?"
"They can be handfull-"
"Mhm, I would need a submissive one" He said leaning even closer, you could now see his dark eyes and smell his cologne. "One that will wait for me at home and will...please me when I want it and how I want it"
His hand went towards your face slowly touching your cheeck with his knuckles, it made you blush even more and be more aware of him. Something was telling you that this was dangerous, this man who had approach you, and yet you could not get yourself to move.
"Maybe a kitten with (E/C), a bit dumb, stupid, has no sense of self preservation, needs help to do anything. But" He paused his eyes studying your face "But its also cute, on its way"
You did not respond. Mouth dry, your mind worked around his cryptid words. Was him...insinuating something?
"How big its your debt?" He asked keeping the small distance.
"Too big" you responded your voice letting out how nervous you were. It was a miracle you managed to get these words out.
He smirked, he knew the exact number and also, he loved knowing he was the one causing you to feel nervous, maybe you were scared?
The idea that he could be scaring you excited him.
"Tell you what, I will pay your debt" He saw the suprise in your face and disbelief  was impossible to hide "But, you must pay me back" He added moving his hand, his thumb now over your lower lip. "You can pay me with your body, I said I should get a kitten right? I believe you are perfect for that position. All you will have to do.." He trailed off forcing his thumb inside your mouth "Its obey me, when I tell you to do something I expect you to obey. If you dont behave, well lets say I can be very creative with my punishments"
He could see the terror in your eyes but also the combination of hope and arousment.
Sick cute thing, just what he needed
"Mhm, lets give it a try shall we? Suck my thumb like a good kitten, I want to see how well you can obey"
Timidly under his dark stare and big pupils your tongue touched his thumb, a shiver went down his spine as he felt it. Your wet tongue licking his finger trying to give it as much attention as you could.
The Salesman moved it around your tongue, almost groaning when he saw you close your eyes and use one hand to take his arm, like you were grounding yourself. He felt a bulge starting to form and couldn't wait to see how wet you were getting.
Abruptly he took off his finger from your mouth taking your neck and kissing you, it was demanding and not loving. He sucked on your lower lip till you moaned and he used this chance to push his tongue into you, caressing yours and sucking it. Needing to hear you moan one more time for him.
What came first were the sounds of steps, The Salesman separated, breathing hard, just like you. Your face was red and eyes wide open and also full with lust. He moved his hair giving you a twisted smile getting up and taking your hand.
"W-wait were are we going?" You asked at him confused by all of the exchange, "Will you really pay my debt?"
"Oh I will my kitten, you will have your loved shelter back and will be able to rescue all the dam cats in Seoul" He said opening the bathroom of the sitation checking that it was empy.
"But first, I need you to take care of something" He said pointing at the bulge between his legs.
He did not miss how you licked your lips.
"Dont worry, I will get you a collar later, now. Get on your knees and show me just how well you can suck, kitten"
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t0jisd0ll · 16 hours ago
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blood, sweat and tears
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genre: smut
pairing: gi-hun x m!reader x in-ho
CW: bottom reader, top gi hun and inho, blowjobs, bathroom sex, threesome, exhibitionism, dacryphillia, fingering (reader receiving), anal, rimming, creampie, reader is taken from both ends, y/n is not used, the usual squid game warnings (blood, gore, etc etc)
word count: 0.8k
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The bathroom door clicked shut behind In-ho, sealing the three of you inside a world momentarily free from the horrors of the games. The fluorescent light buzzed overhead, casting a pale glow that accentuated the blood and grime staining your green tracksuits.
Gi-hun stood by the sink, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion as he scrubbed at his arms. “This never gets easier,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from shouting during the chaos.
You stepped closer, reaching out to rest a hand on his back. “We made it through. That’s what matters.”
In-ho approached from behind, his movements fluid and purposeful. He slipped between you and Gi-hun, crowding the two of you against the sink. His hands, warm and calloused, brushed yours as he turned the faucet on again, the icy water cascading over all three of your hands.
“You’re both terrible at cleaning up,” he said, his tone soft but edged with a teasing lilt. He reached for a scrap of cloth hanging by the mirror and dipped it under the stream.
Gi-hun laughed lightly, the sound strained but genuine. “We’ve been a little preoccupied.”
In-ho smirked, turning his attention to you. “Then let me take care of you.”
Before you could respond, he lifted the cloth to your face, his touch gentle but firm as he wiped away a streak of blood near your temple. His other hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting your head toward him. His dark eyes held yours, their intensity stealing your breath.
Gi-hun shifted closer, his hand sliding to your hip as he pressed against your side. “He’s thorough, isn’t he?” Gi-hun’s voice was lower now, a hint of playfulness mingling with something deeper.
In-ho’s smirk softened as he set the cloth aside, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I don’t leave things half-done.”
The weight of their attention was intoxicating, their bodies so close you could feel the heat radiating from them. Gi-hun’s hand drifted upward, his fingers curling around the curve of your waist, while In-ho leaned in, his lips just a whisper away from yours.
“Tell us to stop,” In-ho murmured, his voice barely audible. “If this isn’t what you want...”
But you didn’t stop them. Instead, you leaned into Gi-hun’s touch, your other hand reaching for In-ho’s wrist to pull him closer. The tension snapped as In-ho closed the gap, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and consuming.
Gi-hun’s laughter rumbled softly in your ear. “Not fair, hogging him all to yourself,” he teased, before his own lips found the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth that sent shivers down your spine.
“We have to be quick, the guards might show up at any moment”, Gi-hun whispered, alerting you. In-ho seemed relaxed, as he slowly pulled your track pants and boxers down to reveal you aching cock. “Cute.”, he stated. “You can't be saying things like that!”, you blushed, looking down. Gi-hun, held your chin and tilted it towards him for a kiss, while In-ho slowly lifted you up and onto his lap entirely. His fingers circle the rim of your hole, feeling the tight ring of muscle puckering and clenching around nothing. His breath hitches as his fingers pushed past the ring of muscle and into your ass. He could hear you moaning and whimpering from the sudden intrusion.
 Gi-hun took the opportunity to turn you around so that your stomach was facing the ground, and you were looking up at him, all doe-eyed. “Such a pretty thing, " he stated, before pulling down his pants, revealing his leaking cock. You understood, and began to suckle on the angry red tip, giving it kitty licks before taking it down your throat. Gi-hun let out a breathy moan, and held onto your hair, tilting your head in such a way that his length hit the back of your throat at every thrust.
At your other end, In-ho felt that he had prepped you enough, so he stood up and removed his aching cock from its confinements. A glob of his spit fell right on your asshole, leading you to give it a (somewhat) high squeal with Gi-hun’s length still in your mouth.
In-ho slowly pushed his tip inside, which caused your eyes to roll back with pleasure. Gi-hun, seeing this, got turned on even more and his thrusts became more vigorous. “Such a dirty little thing you are, getting off to two men fucking you in a bathroom. I bet you’ll come even without either of us touching your cock, eh?
His degrading words, shot straight to your dick, which was leaking precum for a while. You mumbled around Gi-hun’s cock, while the man was saying the exact opposite of what In-ho said. “You're such a good boy for us, aren’t you? Taking us both like a champ.” You moaned around his dick, and the vibrations around it caused Gi-hun to come undone in your mouth without warning. “Shit– sorry”, he exclaimed, looking at your fucked out face as In-ho was still taking you from behind. In-ho’s thrusting was getting sloppier, and as soon as you came, so did he, painting your gummy walls white.
Your breathing finally slowed down, as In-ho gently turned you around to face the ceiling. As Gi-hun was about to say something, that bathroom stall opened, with a triangle guard standing outside.
“Shit.”
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© t0jisd0ll on tumblr. Please do not steal my work as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago
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Squeaky Clean 4
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Steve Rogers
Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)
Note: yeah…
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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A yawn strains your cheeks but you lock it behind your lips. Your eyes water with the constant glaze of fatigue. It could be the work; it’s a lot more physical than you expected, or it could be your usual insomniac tendencies. Whatever it is, doesn’t matter. You just need to get through the day. 
You drizzle the tub cleaner around the brim of the porcelain and watch it trickle down. There’s a hint of something scented still in the air. You note the bag of epsom salts on the little shelf. You guess Steve took your advice. 
As you wait for the grime dissolver to do its thing, you turn and wipe down the thing, working methodically around the toothbrush holder and the white cup. You even clean the mirror, making sure not to miss a single inch. If you keep your hands moving, you don’t fixate on how dull this all is. 
You grab your sponge and turn to crank on the faucet. You bend over the tub and set to work. Your shirt presses to the brim and you feel the moisture seep through to your stomach. You use the running water to scrub the cleaner to suds. The scent roils in the air. 
You reach to the other side, one hand on the edge as you strain. You push your toes into the bathmat to extend further. As you feel you might tip into the deep basin, a firm weight settles along your hips and keeps you steady. You kick your feet into the floor as your head snaps up. 
You squeeze the sponge in your fist and lean it against the opposite wall. You twist to see over your shoulder, squirming as Steve stands behind you, holding you as you sputter dumbly. What is he doing? 
“You looked like you needed help?” He grins. 
Your mind and heart race, competing to the panic line. What the hell? You want to yell at him to get off but your caution chokes the protest from you. As much as he’s overstepping, you need the job. Your landlord doesn’t care that the market is shit, he just wants his money. 
“I’m... fine,” you eke out. 
“You sure?” He asks. 
“Yeah, er,” you nudge his fingers with your yellow glove as you turn back to your task. “I’m sure.” 
“Well, let me know,” he loosens his grip and drags it around to your lower back. His touch sends a shiver through you. He draws away and the warm lingers there, another spatter as suddenly a clap stings across your ass. 
You grunt and keep yourself steady with the hand pressed to the wall. Your eyes widen in disbelief. Steve hums as his footsteps softly retreat. You shudder as you stare at the ivory tile embossed with lilies. He didn’t just... 
You scrub in circles as you wade through the shock of the encounter, trying to convince yourself it didn’t happen. You still feel the impact hot against your jeans. You rinse the tub out and stand. Maybe it’s from bending over for so long or the cleaner but you’re dizzy. 
You finish up the bathroom but can’t make yourself leave. Where is he? Is he hiding? Does he realise what he did? Is he embarrassed? 
Alright, you guess you can talk to Jan at the agency and get this sorted out. Yeah, you need a new client. This one isn’t working out. You gather up the cleaners and tiptoe out of the room. You stop short as you near your kit by the shoe mat. He can hear you. He has super hearing, right? 
You’re further shaken by the reminder of his superiority. Before, you only thought of the disparity of your bank accounts, you hadn’t even considered the most obvious disadvantage. More than just the physical. He is Captain America. 
Would he notice if you left early? He could report you first if he did. Then you’re the one getting dumped, not him. Between the two of you, he’d be the one they’d want to keep. You’re just another cleaner. You can be replaced. 
So get through it and hope you can get a new placement. Hopefully closer to home. Or maybe further. Anywhere, really. 
You wade through the townhouse warily. You wipe down the dining table as your mind wanders away. The table presses into your tummy. You look down and retract. Would anyone believe you? You’re nothing special. Steve Rogers wouldn’t waste his time on you. I mean, he works with Black Widow and have you seen her in a body suit? 
Stop. Focus. Just get it done. 
You continue your usual path through the house. Knocking on each door, checking that each room is empty before you tend to it. As you find each vacant, your dread builds. You’re not so sure he’s hiding from you out of shame now. It’s starting to feel like a game. Like he’s taunting you. 
As you return to the entry way to grab your vacuum and do your final walkthrough, you stop just before the banister post. You stare at the broad set of shoulders as they slowly turn to you. You swallow and clutch the cloth in your hand tight as Steve turns to you in full regalia. 
Cowl, suit, shield. He’s dressed to the nines in his Cap attire. It doesn’t look as campy as on the television. You can see the intricacy of the armour along his gauntlets and the way it lines his ribs just so, alluding to the wall of muscle beneath. That's what he is in that moment, a barrier. The door is behind him. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” his jaw looks sharper as the top of his face is hidden under the cowl. “Looking for something?” 
You shake and point to the vacuum. He turns and looks around, grabbing the vacuum by the hose and dragging it around. He raises the flat end and wiggles it toward you. 
“There you go,” his eyes shine through the cowl. 
You shuffle forward and reach for the body of the vacuum. You squeak as he stops you by poking the vacuum nozzle against your chest. You flinch and reel back. He jabs until you’re walking backwards. You squeeze the cloth in your hand until your knuckles hurt. 
You hit the banister post and stare at him dumbly. He pushes the flat attachment down so you feel your chest bulge around it. His eyes follow and he lightly jiggles you with the plastic end. You grab it instinctively to stop him. 
“Steve,” you hiss. 
He chuckles and flips the end free of your grasp. He taps your chin, just enough to make you flinch, and you recoil, showing your hands defencelessly. The cloth drops to the floor as he raises your head with the firm prod of the vacuum. 
“They won’t believe you. Captain’s got a lot more going on than whoever’s scrubbing his toilet,” he steps closer, towering over you. You glower up at him, stomach roiling with disgust. “But hey, Stark’s got attorneys on retainer. He owes me one.” 
Your lip trembles helplessly and you shake your head. “Why--” 
He tuts and taps your chin again, quieting you. His smile remains as he leans in and brings his other hand up, tugging at the top of your shirt until he exposes your cleavage. You press yourself against the banister and whimper. 
“Because I can,” he snaps the tension in your collar before letting go. “But the good cap’s gotta go save the world before he gets his prize.” He backs up and once more offers up the vacuum hose, “and you gotta make sure he comes home to a nice clean house. Like a good girl.” 
You grab the hose and he keeps hold of it. You hold his gaze as the urge to rip it away and swat him shakes in your grip. He snickers again. You won’t win this battle. 
“Tell Jan I say ‘hi’ and I’ll have that client survey done soon,” he lets go and turns away with a sigh. He turns to the door and puts his hands out, cupping them emphatically as he looks from one to the other. “You sure are a handful.” 
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moons-and-runes · 22 hours ago
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Writing Goals for 2025!
💖 My main goal for the year is to finish writing at least one entire fic (but hopefully I’ll complete multiple)
🛳️ I have a oneshot idea for Benverly which isn’t really a new ship for me but I’ve never written for them before. I think I’d also like to write some Marylene stuff :)
🤔 Following on from the last Q, Ben, Bev, Mary and Marlene are characters I’ve not written before
🥸 Yes, I have a friend who I share most of my ideas with who also has some fic ideas in the works 👀
🥵…We’ll see. And if I do there’s no guarantee I would even post it lol
👻 Technically any genre is a new genre for me as I’ve never finished writing a whole story
🦄 I have a dual POV wip at the moment of Sirius and Regulus Black :)))
🐌 To finish a oneshot (3k - 10k words)
🦖 No I’m really only interested in writing IT and HP fics
🍄 None that I can think of atm but that might change as I read and watch more perhaps I’ll join a new fandom this year
🌈 Oh I’ve already done a ton of research for multiple of my wips. Things like looking up lunar cycle calendars, weather forecasts and major events from previous years as well as finding every character’s canon birthday and creating ones for those who don’t have one 😭 I have put in WORK!
✨ I’m pretty good at English overall but I guess spelling and grammar are my strongest areas. Although I do find myself wanting to look up certain grammar at times to double check I’m using it correctly.
🥕 Timeline? Plot line? Not sure how to word it but just managing to get all my separate ideas and scenes to flow into each other and form the bigger picture/full story
🫘 Currently in the works I have a reddie fic from Eddie’s pov (but with a twist), the dual pov Black brothers fic, a wolfstar au inspired by one of my favourite books and an angsty semi canon-compliant wolfstar fic
🥳 Allow myself to start making art based on my stories. I think if I do that before the fics are finished I’ll just end up settling for the art and never finishing the writing. However when I finish a fic I can then make art and also use it as the fic cover!
🎃 Yes I think it would be fun to do some holiday oneshots, especially Halloween and Christmas (or for character’s birthdays if I remember)
🐾 I’d like to say yes but I struggle so much with deadlines I just don’t see myself finishing within the short time frame 😔
✍️ Hits and Comments! I’d like to know that people are actually reading and enjoying the stuff I put out especially when I’ve worked so hard on it :) I would say kudos but since you’re only allowed to leave 1 per fic the numbers wouldn’t be as accurate to how many people are actually reading/enjoying it
👾 Not finishing wips 💀 I have so many ideas for fics and random notes in multiple places and I just need to focus on finishing the few I’ve started
🤖 Not really. I write wherever and whenever the inspiration hits. Whether at my computer, on my phone or on my iPad. And usually I’ll be in bed or at my desk
🦷 Any of the super angsty scenes I have planned (none of them are fully formed ideas yet though so I can’t share snippets or say what in particular I’m scared to write)
💥 Heheheh yes but I can’t really say bc I don’t want to spoil my current favourite wip. It involves brotherly bickering though :)
🍕 Posting schedules aren’t important to me. I’ll post whenever I want to post. However I think I’d like to have the full fic finished before I start posting it. That way there’s no chance I’ll abandon it as a wip with a cliffhanger
🛏️ Again, pretty much any trope is a new trope as someone who has never finished a piece of writing 😭
🪩 Not sure if this is specifically a writing habit but I’m super proud of the ideas I come up with and I’d like to continue developing my existing ideas as well as creating new ones
🎉 I will acknowledge that this is the first year I have set any writing goals and that I can always finish off my goals next year, just like how I’ve only completed 1/4 of my Goodreads goals so far
💌 Yes!! Although I think I need to build more of a following on here/ao3 before that happens :)
PHEW! that was a lot!! But also very fun!! I can’t wait to get more into my writing this year and hopefully 🤞 finish one (or more) of my wips
tagging: @staliamazing
Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year 🎉
These writer asks are always so fun to both ask and answer. Fanfic or original fiction writers, reblog away! These are asks based in new goals for a new year.
💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year?
🛳 Are there any new ships you want to write for? (Platonic, romantic, or anything in between.)
🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?
🥸 Does anyone in IRL know you write fanfic or original fiction? If not, do you plan on telling anyone this year?
🥵 Any plans to write steamy or spicy content this year?
👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?
🦄 Is there a new POV you'd like to try writing?
🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?
🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to?
🍄 Are there any fandoms you've never written for but want to try?
🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing?
✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement?
🥕 What's one area of your writing that you think needs the most amount of improvement?
🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?
🥳 How are you going to celebrate when you achieve one of your writing goals?
🎃 Do you plan on writing any seasonal fics?
🐾 Do you plan on writing for any fests or competitions?
✍️ Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favorites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits?
👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break?
🤖 Are you looking to change your current writing setup? (Or establish one, if you don't have one?)
🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!
💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!
🍕Will you be making any changes to your posting schedule (if you have one)? (Or do you want to establish a posting schedule?)
🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?
🪩 Do you have any "good" writing habits you want to cultivate?
🎉 How are you going to be kind to yourself if you don't meet your goals?
💌 Are you willing to take requests or prompts for writing?
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daycourtofficial · 3 days ago
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Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part three
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Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel | WC: 3.3k | warnings: general angst, some violence
Summary: after a week of avoiding talking to him, Azriel invites you out for a meeting that only leaves you with a more urgent sense of jealousy
Author’s note: happy new year’s eve!! I know it hasn’t been too long since the last part, but I wanted to spread some holiday joy! This year has been awful but my time online and the friends I’ve met through here have been so lovely and kind and you guys have gotten me through a lot do here’s some pain!
Last part | Next part | Masterlist
Your conversation with Nesta left you reeling, some deep part of you rattled at her words. A deep loneliness settled in you after she left, a swirling storm of anger and jealousy threatening to fester into a hurricane out on the balcony.
‘He’s a challenge on his best days.’
Why had the Mother given her most loyal follower a mate who was so difficult? Weren’t mates supposed to be a blessing?
Rhys and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian - they all had their own fair share of turbulence. You remembered the stories from Mor about Feyre throwing her shoes at Rhysand, or Nesta’s seemingly complete apathy around Cassian.
The journals left you confused, both smitten and giddy and a deep questioning of should it be this hard? Azriel and Eris had already seen the worst of each other and still chose and defended their bond. Would the same be said of you if Azriel saw your faults? Or would one flawed mate be enough for him?
Would another fae be able to look past your status as a second choice? Would you be able to even look at other fae if Azriel rejected you?
It had only been a few weeks since the bond had snapped for you, but in that time you didn’t notice other fae. They were just background characters, no one in particular ever catching your notice.
Except Eris. That was nothing though - merely Azriel’s feelings about him swirling within you.
None of it made any sense, your body subconsciously leaving the balcony and moving to find Azriel, repeating to yourself that an answer laid in one of his journals. You stopped by your room to gather the journal before following the bond to find the shadowsinger alone in the library. He looked incredible - his large wings stretched out over the black leather, the definition of his body evident through his loose fitting clothes. He was hunched over a small table, flipping through a book and jotting things down on the paper next to him. All your time spent reading this past week made his handwriting a familiar sight.
“Hi Az.” You stopped before him, presenting him with your most recently finished journal. This one had contained much the same - fighting between Eris and Azriel, occasional snippets about Cassian and his drunken antics. It seemed Eris and Azriel were in a constant cycle of never getting too close, one or the other always finding some fault to keep their distance.
He accepted it wordlessly, the replacement journal ready in his lap. How you hadn’t noticed it says more about the focus of your attention than you would like.
“Expecting me?”
“You usually find me around this time.” He huffed, the slight smile on his face enough to know he’s being light hearted. You took the new journal, about to turn on your heel when you spotted the empty chair next to Azriel. You waited a moment, turning back to find him still looking at you. Your chest felt tight with vulnerability, looking back to the empty chair, something inside of you begging to sit in his presence.
It felt like a good sign finding him in the open. You usually found him in his room, his door closed in front of you once the exchange was made. But now he sat on display, his own work spread out before him. You weren’t certain you had ever seen him work so openly.
You took the sign as an invitation, sitting in a chair opposite him, the spine a harsh crack in the silent room. He did nothing more than watch, hazel eyes tracking the delicacy and respect you showed to the journal before looking back to his own notes.
It was silent save for the turning of pages and his scrawling. It felt so warm being in his presence, sharing this time with him. It was so easy to get lost in it that the next time you looked up you realized he had pulled out a fresh journal, scribbling away in it. It was a cleaner version of the one you spent every night hunched over, staying up until the last word was comprehensible to your sleep-addled brain.
“Have you ever done that in front of someone before?” You croaked the words out, throat dry from your lack of water in hours, too afraid if you got up, your return would show an empty room.
“No, I haven’t.” His scrawl hadn’t stopped, and you straightened up, trying to catch a glance of what he was writing, if your name made an appearance. Shadows swirled at the top of his journal, obscuring your vision. You looked at the shadow, a cross expression trying to threaten them. They only seemed to dance more rapidly, in agitation or preening beneath your gaze, you weren’t sure.
“None of that.”
You sank back deflated, surprised you were caught. Picking up the journal once more, you flicked to the page you had left off at, settling back in.
“You’ll see this one soon enough.” The book snapped shut at his words as you readjusted to sit back up.
“I will?” Azriel only nodded, finally looking up at you instead of the pages of his journal. His eyes darted around the room before a shadow curled around his ear. Whatever the shadow told him, he relaxed a little, his posture easing into his seated position.
“I gave them to you to understand Eris and I’s relationship. But I think it’s impossible to figure out this situation without getting completely up to date.”
You nearly salivated at the thought of Azriel’s present journals. To know what he’s thought about you this whole time, in his own words, even without knowing about the bond? Priceless.
He had said he had been interested in you, drawn to you.
Azriel smiled, a soft pulsing of the thread around your heart. Tonight had been a step forward - you didn’t want to push your luck and find out if he was pulling the cord tight in reassurance or suffocation. You kept the question to yourself, nestling into the chair and the comfort of Azriel’s scent.
-
Mindless chatter moved across the breakfast table, your eyes constantly flickering to Azriel. It was impossible to keep them off of him, his emotions roiling in your chest kept you up half the night once you had retired from the library. You had been avoiding him for a week now, and the hours spent in his company reminded you of just how nice it was to linger in his presence.
This past week had been an anomaly, one you weren’t certain your friends had noticed or not. Azriel was usually a source of company at some point during your day - a meal, transportation, or just someone to go out walking Velaris with you.
If this past week showed you anything, it was how ingrained into your daily life Azriel had become.
You looked at him again, your eyes lingering on the lack of sleep beneath his eyes. He was tired. You couldn’t pinpoint it exactly- it wasn’t in his face or in his movements. Was it the bond? Was it your late night insomnia that kept him up?
Could mating bonds do that?
“Azriel, what time are you leaving?” Rhys’s question brought you from your focused gaze, waiting to hear Azriel’s response. So focused on Azriel, you hadn’t bothered pretending to even eat or notice Cassian’s glances to his own mate.
“I’m leaving in the afternoon.” Azriel’s head turned to you, his hazel eyes capturing yours in a gaze you couldn’t look away from. Where was he going? You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts you had missed the beginning of the discussion.
“I think it would be better if you came with me.” The table had turned quiet, the clattering of cutlery pausing for just a moment, all eyes slowly directed your way, waiting for your response.
So they’ve noticed this weirdness between you two.
“Are you sure, Az?” Azriel didn’t look away from you at Rhysand’s question, merely waiting for your response. Something in you was drawn to his gaze, wanting to linger in it for the rest of your days. His eyes held such softness, a look he reserved just for you.
And his other mate. The bitter thought made you grimace. Azriel and Eris had something real, something tangible that they fought for every single day.
But surely the moments in the library were also real. Not as intense or passionate, but full of a warmth you had hardly experienced before, a domesticity many would dream about.
“Yes, I will. Where are we going?”
Azriel was quick to answer, one of his shadows nearly muffling Rhysand’s voice so Azriel could be the one to respond.
“I have a meeting with Eris.” You were too focused on Azriel’s face to notice Nesta’s eyes widen imperceptibly on the other side of the table.
-
Your fingers tapped against your thigh, an anxiety coursing through you at the thought of seeing Eris again. He was something - a sharp face, even sharper tongue, decadently dressed. You hated to admit it, but you could understand why the Mother had mated him to Azriel - the two were quite possibly the most gorgeous fae in all of Prythian.
You had stayed up late again pouring over Azriel’s journals. Each notebook left you more and more territorial over him, romance pouring through every page. It was so different from the books Nesta read - the fictitious couple having grandiose gestures, no depiction of how the day to day worked.
But Azriel’s notebook was filled with longing for Eris. Recaps of long conversations they have had, almost word for word detailings of what they spoke about.
They had been together for a little over a century by now. They both fought it - Azriel all but withdrew from his family, avoiding them for over a year while he figured it out.
It took nearly a decade for them to come to terms with it - one of them never quite ready to dive in, both playing the hesitant role at different points.
It seemed one day Eris just snapped. Tired of talking in circles and exhausting every avenue, he went for it. He kissed Azriel and it spiraled from there, consummating the bond. It was a romantic tale of longing and distance and overcoming any and all odds for each other.
A story you had no business playing a part in.
Azriel pulled you from your thoughts, reaching out a hand to winnow the pair of you away. You took it, remembering all too well the last time you were gathered in his arms.
You both rematerialized in a densely packed forest, the trees so close together it was difficult to move between. You steadied yourself against Azriel, hands pressed to his broad chest. Winnowing yourself anywhere wasn’t an issue, but someone else winnowing you left you unmoored, your feet unable to find solid ground for a few seconds. The bond tightened around your heart, the beat of it speeding up at the contact.
“Come to gloat?” Your head whipped towards Eris as you yanked your hands from Azriel’s chest. You didn’t notice Azriel bringing his hands back up, reaching for you, trying to keep you close.
But Eris did. He schooled his features, looking toward Azriel with hardened eyes.
“No, I brought her so we can figure this out.”
Eris scoffed, the sound loud enough to be heard over the bird song high above the group. He stomped forward in a direct path towards Azriel, a trail of smoke in his wake.
His long red hair flowed behind him as he moved, reflecting the light of the sun so beautifully the homes of the Autumn Court could be full of portraits of the male before you and his beauty would still surprise. Your heart hammered in your chest, unable to look away from him.
“I’m sure that’s exactly what you’ve been up to this past week. Trying to figure this out with her, shutting off your bond to me.” The last words came out as a whisper, the underlying accusation one Eris couldn’t bear to say. He looked almost hurt as he said it.
“Er-“ Eris cut Azriel off, pushing his back into a tree, his hands curling into the leathers. Your feet followed the action, a hot sense of protectiveness overcoming you.
“No, Azriel. You don’t get to play house with her and show up here with her.”
“She can hear you, ya know.” You pushed Eris off of Azriel, the male staggering back in shock at your actions.
“How sweet. What a waste of my time to be here if you’re going to tell me you’ve finally picked someone else when you’ve had a century to do so.”
Azriel reached out for Eris, his grip tight around Eris’s forearm. Eris tried to push Azriel away from him, but his hand remained around Eris. He pulled the redhead closer, his thumb slowly stroking over his mate’s skin. It felt so intimate you wanted to look away.
“Eris, I am not picking her. I am trying to figure this out.” Azriel’s words stung, no matter how pragmatic they were. A teeny, tiny part of you wanted to blurt out to Eris about the journals, certain it would send the Autumn male out of your life for good. The action stayed in your mind at the betrayal Azriel would feel.
Some part of you knew something so hurtful would end in Azriel having no mates.
“‘Figure this out’? What is there to figure out? Which one of us you would pick?”
“No!” Azriel’s rebuttal was frantic, his lack of sleep more prominent now in the sunlight. It didn’t stop the sun from highlighting how gorgeous his brown skin was, though. “Can’t you think past your own self for five minutes and realize my soul, my entire being is connected to the both of you?”
The words did something to Eris, causing him to finally look at you. You couldn’t help the heat rushing to your cheeks beneath his gaze, a small part of you hoping he finds something interesting. You straightened, taking the time to look over him as well. It was nearly unfair how good he looked in his riding clothes. His shirt opened just enough to see his collarbone and the top of his sternum, his pale chest decorated with freckles. His loose, billowy shirt tucked into some well fitting trousers, thighs nearly ripping the fabric.
He wasn’t as big as Azriel - a bit shorter and not nearly as broad, but he was lean and strong, and you were certain they both threw each other around the bedroom with ease.
“I suppose severing this bond would mean lifelong consequences for you.” Eris spoke to Azriel, but kept his gaze on you as he walked toward you. Heat crept up your body the closer he got, each step raising the temperature by ten degrees. It was nearly unbearable by the time he stood in front of you, so close you had to look up at him.
Eris’s anger made him more beautiful - the sharpness of his face poised and ready for attack, the red shades of anger perfectly matching his skin and hair.
Heat coursed around your neck, the flames dancing across your skin. You were enraptured with Eris, this moment only for the two of you. You could hear Azriel start to object, but paid him no notice, your full attention on Eris.
“I could end it all now, remove the most painful thorn in my side you’ve been.”
You smiled up at him, overcome with a new feeling of competition. The flames around your neck tightened, but you kept on, stepping infinitesimally closer to Eris.
“If my mere existence is a pain to you now, just wait until I’ve decided you’re worth the effort to bother. You’ve only known me for a week and already I’m worth your ire.”
“Go home to Velaris. Go be a small town healer and find a small town male for you to fake your orgasms with.”
Your jaw dropped and you felt Azriel’s hands wrap around your upper arms, trying to pull you back, but you rooted yourself to the ground, pulling from his grasp.
“At least my constituents will look me in the eye out of respect and not fear. At least my patients know I had to work for my job and that I wasn’t given it because of my father!”
The flames were choking now, your breaths coming in hard and shallow. You were trying to fight it, to win whatever this was, but breathing harder and harder, fresh air a luxury you couldn’t remember.
“Eris!” Azriel all but growled as he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into him. You reached up, trying to pull the collar off, tried to get any air, but it was impossible.
“The Mother is absurd for mating Azriel with someone so foolish who speaks of things she knows nothing about.” Eris relinquished his power as you sagged into Azriel’s arms, but Eris cupped a hand around your jaw. His eyes burned with fury and something you couldn’t quite make out, the amber color replaced with the blown pupils of his ire.
“Az, come back to me when you’ve decided the bitch isn’t worth your time.”
Chest heaving, you squared your jaw, a rebuttal on your tongue, but Eris had turned, walking into the trees before disappearing completely into them.
He was everything Nesta had warned you he was. He was cruel, difficult, and maddening.
And if the Mother wanted Azriel to pick one of you, you would do whatever it took to beat out Eris Vanserra for Azriel’s affections.
You’re stuck so deep in your head, you don’t even notice Azriel winnow the two of you back to the House of Wind, the two of you landing in the dining room. You turned to ask him about Eris, to talk to him about how ridiculous his mate was, but Azriel had dropped your arm, winnowing away immediately after. Your hand instinctively reached out for the shadows, but it was too late.
He was gone and he left you here.
You sighed, not knowing what you expected him to do. Coddle you? Tell you Eris didn’t mean his threats? Tell you Eris is a big meanie head?
You shook the thought away, your steps soft as you made your way through the house, a journal calling your name to pour through.
Your adrenaline was wearing off, the grime of the forest stuck to your clothes making the bathtub’s siren song call to you from many rooms away.
“How was your meeting with Eris?” Nesta’s voice found you as you were about to climb the stairs, one foot raised. You spun on your heel to look at her, her face indecipherable. Just his name filled you with anger and confusion once more. How was it him that had received Azriel’s affections?
“He’s worse than you made him seem. Vile and cruel, just like everyone says.” You spat the words at her, not receiving the reaction you wanted from her. Nesta only raised her eyebrows as her nose twitched.
“Are you sure?” Your anger had flared too much to notice her strange tone or the look in her eye.
“I’m positively certain. Anyone having to spend time with that awful, awful male is a saint or somehow even worse than he is.”
She approached you, her eyes lingering on your neck. You weren’t certain if you had scorch marks or not, unsure if Eris’s wickedness scarred. She was quiet as she looked at you, eyes of silver intense as they locked onto yours. You weren’t sure if she found what she was looking for or not before she brushed past you to go to her own chambers, her words quiet in the stillness of the house.
“If you say so.”
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demonic0angel · 20 hours ago
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hasn't slept in a week dead tired Jason knocking on his neighbors door: hey Jazz would you mind watching Robin and Superboy for me so I can sleep? *holds out a scruffed Damian and Jon very much in civis* Thanks, I'll be back in an hour *stumbles back to his place*
Jon and Damian: 😮 Watch who? Who did he say you have to watch
“… we’re not Superboy or Robin,” Jon said nervously.
Jazz just blinked. Then she nodded slowly and said, “Yes. I would guess not, since you two don’t have flying powers, right?”
“Us two?” Damian said, very tense.
Jazz nodded and shrugged. “Yes. Since Robin and Superboy can both fly, right? I’ve never seen them in person, so I have no idea.”
Damian and Jon shared a look and then nodded at her, clearly not wanting to push it. Jazz just smiled idly and said, “Well, I can’t watch over you two here, so how about I take you to Arkham Asylum?”
“…you’re taking us to Arkham? Arkham Asylum?” Damian said, sounding appalled.
Jazz blinked and nodded. “I still have work. Would you two like to come with me to tour? I don’t have any meetings with any of the more… volatile patients for today. I can bring you around and you two can volunteer and help around.”
Jon looked eagerly at Damian, who glanced at his overexcited friend and then at Jazz. She smiled encouragingly and said with a smile, “I have a gun that I can use to protect you two, and I can fight. If it makes you feel better.”
Damian narrowed his eyes at her and then nodded once. He held Jon’s hand determinedly, which made Jazz’s lips twitch before she smoothed her face over in a flash.
Jazz beamed. “Great! Let’s go!”
————
Jason blinked. “Damn. They’re absolutely knocked out.”
Both Damian and Jon were completely and utterly worn out from the day they had. Usually, at this time, they’d be bouncing and nagging and screaming for patrol or excitement or games, but whatever sacrifice Jazz must’ve killed in order for peace must’ve been extremely valuable and to a very agreeable god.
“What did you do?” Jason asked, in awe.
She giggled and kissed him on the cheek. “Just brought them around. They were so sweet! Although, I do want to tell you that Damian isn’t getting the amount of sleep that he needs for his age, and don’t look at me like that, I know what your nighttime job is, he still needs sleep. You should encourage him by making him associate bedtime with rewards, and I think that’ll make him less grumpy. He was very cute though! And Jon is an absolute sweetheart, I don’t mind watching them again if you’d like.”
Jason just smiled as he picked the two kids up in his arms. “I’ll give your advice to Dick and B. Thanks. Sorry for just dumping them on your doorstep.”
“You’re tired from the case, I get it. I don’t mind, but next time, I’d like a warning, okay?”
“Sure thing, Princess. Thank you again. I’ll cook dinner for us on Thursday?”
She nodded. Then she paused and said, “Also, you called them Robin and Superboy when you brought them here. Did you know that?”
Jason froze and then cursed to himself. “Damn! I knew I was forgetting something. Sorry, Princess, I forgot to tell them that you knew my identity so—”
“Hmm, yes, I figured, since they seemed really wary of me at first. It’s okay though, we had fun in the end and I think they like me a little now.” She giggled and then said, “I have to get back to my papers, but I’ll see you tonight, dearest!”
With another kiss, she ushered him out the door and waved goodbye before she left.
Jason smiled dreamily after her before bringing the kids to his bike, where he held them carefully as he drove though Gotham streets.
Damian woke up at some point, rubbing his eyes and yawning. At these times, Jason could kind of understand why Dick seemed to think he was the cutest thing in the universe. “Did you have a good rest, sleeping beauty?” He teased.
Damian nodded and said, “Next time Father wants you to babysit, don’t bother. Just bring us to your girlfriend and leave.”
Jason almost swerved. Damian hissed and held onto Jon, who grumbled and nearly knocked Jason off of his bike with his sleepy headbutt. “What! Damn, what the hell did she do for you to like her so much?!”
Damian smirked. “She has guts, smarts, skill, and compassion for the poor and unfortunate. You have chosen well for a sister-in-law and I expect you to marry in less than 3 years, understand?”
Jason looked at him like he was crazy. He appreciated the support, but he was starting to feel like Jazz might’ve replaced his brother with someone else. “… what did you three do all day?”
Damian smiled with all of his teeth. “She brought us to Arkham Asylum to shadow her work and then she defended us when one of the inmates broke out. She can perform a magnificent takedown with no hands.“
Jon also spoke up, blinking sleepy eyes, “She also let us meet Killer Croc! And we also met Poison Ivy! It was cool!”
“You should also tell her the truth at some point. We told her that you have horrific, delusional dreams because you can’t sleep and that’s why you lied about our identities.”
Jason just stared.
Yeah, that last part was definitely the usual Damian.
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fushiguruuzzzz · 3 days ago
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+ CHAPTER EIGHT // ALPHA DISCOUNT 
series mlist 
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Tags — mentions of alcohol again, mention of prostitution (humorous), Toge acting like he’s not a nepo baby, 1/2 chapters taking place at this particular show Words — 0.8k 
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Since becoming popular enough to have regular shows, the pressure had led you to develop your own pre-concert ritual. Not that you’d really established it as that, but you always seemed to find yourself sat cross legged on the edge of the stage, swirling your overly fruity drink around your cup as the people filtered in. You relished in your secluded silence for the time being because for now, you were nothing but another figure in the midst of the bars smokey haze. You weren’t a performer, the only eyes on you were those that cared or those that would never get the chance. If there was a show, the band knew that until the lights dimmed and the microphone was plugged in, you’d be in the by your lonesome. 
Your usual bright, picture perfect demeanour felt as though it was dulled as the nights hours progressed. As the moons cool light bled through the windows, the pink ribbons hanging loosely from your hair appeared almost like a gentle red. Fitting, wasn’t it? It matched your cheeks when you saw him, and the lipliner you ever so meticulously applied in the mirror only minutes before. It matched the person that seemed to possess you when that microphone was in your hand and your friends behind your back, all doing what you loved. And when your eyes met his across the room, everything heightened. 
As if your mind had called out to him, the silhouette of a smirking blond cut into the corner of your vision. “Whatcha thinking about?” 
An invisible force tugged at your lips, willing you to smile as you craned your neck towards him. “Toge,” you breathed, before processing that he’d asked a question. “Mm, nothing much.” 
He quirked a brow, and the way his eyes caught on the subtle crease in your brows wasn’t missed by you. His face twitched as if preparing to speak, but you were quicker than that. So instead of admitting you’d been thinking about a lot of things, and that he was all of them, you changed the topic with a quick glance around the room. 
“Did your friends come with you?” 
He paused for an instant, purple eyes blinking stupidly before he collected himself. He nodded, gaze flicking to an area nearer to the door. With the attention came the not-so-obvious averting of their gazes—even the mean looking green haired woman had been eyeing you. 
“…yeah,” he winced, a breath of embarrassed laughter exiting him. “I think they’re just surprised you’re actually talking to me.” 
You hummed questioningly, chin moving to rest in your palm. You watched him intently, appreciating the pause between his responses and feeling oddly enamoured by every contort of his face. 
You don’t know if it was the alcohol, but you swear that his breath stuttered when his eyes locked with yours. It was covered up with a playful response before you could dwell on it, though. “Believe it or not, most girls aren’t exactly drawn in by second hand embarrassment.” 
You had to bite your cheek to resist from laughing, the fear that the alcohol on your breath would hit him overriding the amusement bubbling in your throat. “I guess I’m special, then.” 
He looked up at you, looking just a little more earnest than the moment called for. “Yeah,” he said, voice so soft it was almost a whisper. 
Things were silent for a moment, similar to how they’d been only a handful of nights before, when you spent hours crouched laughing over the side of the bar. Toge felt his palms growing clammy and his heart beating a little too fast for how sober he was, and he was suddenly aware of his need for a drink. He looked at the clock and noticed he didn’t have much time left with you anyway, that he was probably holding you back from necessary preparation. 
He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his shirt. “I’ll let you get to your uh…” he motioned to the clumps of instruments and chords nearby. You nodded, though feeling a little hollow with the ending of the moment. 
“I’ll be watching you. Don’t mess up,” he grinned, hands jamming into his pockets. 
“I’ll do my best,” you chuckled. 
He spared you another toothy smile before turning on his heel, leaving you sitting on the edge as you had been before. Except now you felt warmer, and suddenly the love songs you sang weren’t all in vain. 
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Get a load of these LOSERS (I’m lonely)
Next chapter will be the same night/show but I’m breaking it up into 2 so you’re less mad at me
while gang staring like “how’d he do that”
Toge has like. Never had a girlfriend so she is in fact special
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Happy new years / New Year’s Eve chat new year same series unfortunately I acc fw them tho I didn’t wake up until noon today for some reason so um yeah! guys what if the world ends and we all go kaboom when the clock hits midnight hmmm
Taglist — closed 50/50
@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @yatiimariiee @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @rottingvxmpire @gradmacoco @spkyssn
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 days ago
Text
barista (t.d.)
Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: You have a big, fat crush on your regular—Gotham’s very own friendly neighborhood coffee addict, Tim Drake.
A/N: Please compliment me about the banner I worked very hard on it <3 Also Happy New Year!!!
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Getting a job in food service was honestly the last thing you wanted to do. You had heard enough horror stories from your friends who had taken many summer jobs unlike you. They often complained of insufferable superiors, bad working hours, and even worse pay and even though their stories of annoying Karens were extremely entertaining, you didn't think you'd be any good at handling them yourself. Unless your boss was okay with you cussing them out.
So, when your parents brought up you getting a job, you had vehemently refused. It's not like you particularly needed the money, however, they made a good point about needing to gain experience and how you were practically a rotting pile of flesh since you had begun summer break.
You couldn't argue with their points, even you knew that you needed to get back into a routine and get some fresh air. However, a job as a barista was the last thing you wanted to do.
But when your parents mentioned that you'd be working at your aunt's cafe, you were quick to change your tune. You always had a blast with her, and she'd definitely pay you well, lest she face the rath of her older sister, your mother. Plus, she often claimed that you were her favourite niece, despite not having any other but you supposed it was the thought that counted. Plus, you'd make extra money that you could use for pretty much anything.
So, now adorned in an apron, you stood behind the counter and took orders. Your aunt oversaw the pastry making and baking while you were in charge of the register and making drinks.
The thing you liked the most about your aunt's cafe was that it was a rare find for many customers. The cafe was the perfect space for people to sit in the quiet and get some work done. There was rarely ever any rush unless a big party came, however even then you were never really spread thin. You suppose you should feel bad that your aunt wasn't getting much business but she more than made up for the lack of customers with her overpriced coffee and cakes. But you would never tell her that. Besides, she made most of her profits from custom cake orders.
That's not to say that you didn't get any customers, you had very many loyal regulars that were always polite and would always strike up a conversation with you. Most of them were residents from the high-rise building above the shop so they were usually pretty wealthy and thus knew how to tip well.
And of course, the most loyal customer of them all, Gotham’s very own coffee addict; Tim Drake.
You take back your previous statement; he was definitely the thing you liked the most about the cafe.
You would have been down bad if he had just been just good looking; with blue eyes that were unusually bright and clear, like as though God cut the fabric of the afternoon sky and the clear blue ocean and made his irises with them. His pale skin and dark hair definitely made them seem even brighter.
He was so good looking that your customer-service-smile had frozen onto your face when he first entered the cafe, barely hearing his order over the thumping of your heartbeat and your brains incessant chatter trying to tell you to pay attention to what he was saying. Eventually, you had to apologize and ask him to repeat his order in your stupor, giving the excuse that you were new even though you had been there for more than 2 weeks.
He just smiled politely and told you not to worry before fishing his wallet and paying for his drink, tipping 50%. He wasn't just gorgeous but also well-mannered and sweet. You were down so catastrophically, cataclysmically bad.
The next time he came in, you learnt his name by pretending you needed to write it down on the cup and he casually commented how you didn't really do that last time. You said it was because he had been the only one in the store last time even though there was only one additional customer there. And you all were aware that you didn't bother to ask for the other customer’s name.
Tim continued to come almost every morning for the next couple of weeks and once you learnt how to actually comprehend the words coming out of his mouth instead of just listening to angelic singing every time he looked at you, you realized he was actually very interesting.
He'd always strike up a conversation with you and sometimes you'd take your lunch break and sit with him at the table while you talked. He was hilarious and intelligent and creative and the more you talked with him the more your plain attraction turned into affection before you knew it.
"I see you like Red Robin." Tim commented casually, noticing the insignia pin that you had on your apron. You glanced at the enamel pin that you had bought from a bodega on an impulse out of instinct before nodding, "Yeah, he's my favourite amongst the bats."
"Oh really? How come? Most people really prefer Nightwing, like me."
You shrugged, "I dunno, I just feel like he doesn't get enough appreciation as compared to the others. Plus, he makes the papers the least often."
"So, what? You felt bad that no one pays attention to him?"
You shook your head, clutching the screen as you typed in his order that you had already memorized. A brown sugar shaken espresso that you had convinced him to try just once, and he had immediately been hooked onto. You obviously added a couple extra shots of espresso for his caffeine addicted self.
"On the contrary, the fact that he's not seen in the paper probably means that he's getting the job done quietly and efficiently. Or maybe not. But that's just my guess. He's not bad looking either."
Tim chuckled, passing you his card, "Don't let him hear you say that; he might just swoon at the compliment."
"Well, I haven't actually seen his face, so I can't say with full certainty."
Tim lingered by the counter while you made his coffee, speaking loudly due to the absence of customers at this time. You had once mentioned that this was your least busy time; you wondered if he visited during that time, so he'd get to talk to you for longer.
You shook your head, reminding yourself not to get a big head as you pulled a double shot of espresso, quickly adding it to the shaking glass with brown sugar.
"I bet I’m better looking."
You really hadn't meant to laugh as hard as you had; you just pictured Tim Drake, with his posh posture and Gotham elite personality, sniffing at Red Robin as he tried to critique and compare looks. You were fairly sure that Red Robin was a head taller than him as well. The more you thought about it, the harder you laughed.
When you finally managed to wipe the tears from your eyes, Tim was still standing at the counter with a star-struck expression, pink beginning to paint his porcelain skin in beautiful blooms. You bit your lip, smiling in apology. He must have been quite embarrassed at your boisterous laughter.
"S-Sorry, you caught me off-guard." You explained, still giving him a sheepish smile as you grabbed a napkin and straw for him. The red had made its way up to his ears and down his neck before disappearing underneath the hoodie he was wearing.
Great, you had a crush on the guy and just laughed at the thought of him being better looking compared to a guy you had never even seen before.
"It's fine, it was meant to be a joke, so I suppose I’m flattered."
"No, I was being mean, you're definitely better looking." You teased, "If I ever meet Red Robin, I’ll definitely let him know that."
"I’ll hold it to you." He joked, grabbing his drink.
Having a crush was way more physically taxing than you had remembered it being. Every time Tim was around you, your heart slammed so sharply against your ribcage you would get breathless, and your stomach would twist into so many knots you'd find your abdomen getting sore.
You'd grow visibly excited when it was around the time for him to enter the store, making sure everyone else's orders were fulfilled so that you could give him as much of your undivided attention.
After being hopelessly infatuated and pining for him for a while, you had thought that you had gotten used to the incessant butterflies flapping their fingers against the walls of your stomach. However, Tim continued to prove you wrong.
You had just finished wiping down the steam wand of the espresso machine, when the bell above the store door had jingled, telling you that you had a customer.
When your eyes landed on the man standing behind the register, you couldn't help but freeze, stomach squeezing so tightly you could feel your heart crawl up to your throat, stopping you from welcoming him inside.
Tim Drake was wearing a suit.
His hair was styled for the first time you had ever seen him; dark tresses neatly gelled away from his face aside for a couple strands that tickled his nose.
You clenched the cloth in your hands so tightly you could feel the rough fabric beginning to slightly burn your skin. A part of you wanted to collapse into a puddle on the floor, already knowing how weak your knees had gotten at the site of him adjusting his watch. Oh, you wanted to dissolve into a pile of warm syrup, and you bit your lips to hide a dopey, lovesick grin.
Another, more repressed part, wanted to grab his tie in a single fist and yank the handsome man toward you, climbing over the counter and kissing him all over until his white shirt was stained with your lip gloss, his immaculate hair was messed up by your fingers and his cologne had rubbed off on your skin instead. You forced that part of yourself into the corner because she seriously needed a time-out.
"Um, hey?"
This was the first time he had spoken, clearly noticing how you just stood awkward frozen in time. Oh god, his voice was so much more attractive than you remembered. This wasn't fair.
"H-Hi, where are you going off to so prim and proper?" You asked, pulling yourself together by pinching your thigh so painfully that you could feel a bruise beginning to form.
"Oh, I just have a meeting at work. I do most of the work from home, but I’m needed in the office today." He explained, handing you his card like clockwork and you nodded, stepping away so you could start making his drink.
"Wow, how adult." You mused, shaking the tumbler quickly before pouring it into his cup and handing it to him.
"You look good, by the way," His warm fingertips grazed against your own when you handed him the tissue and straw. You watched as a bashful smile grew on his face at your compliment, making your heart flutter like a feather floating through the wind, "Much better than Red Robin."
He rolled his eyes, small smile turning into a full-blown grin.
***
This was the first time since you had met Tim that he hadn't come to the bakery alone and thus it would be the first time in a very long time that you actually had to take the order instead of automatically input his drink order.
Unfortunately, it would also be the last time you would be taking his order. You were supposed to work at the coffee shop for the rest of the month, however you had gotten an opportunity from your professor to be a part of his research team for the next semester and he required you to begin early. Which meant that you would no longer have the time to work for your aunt.
You had yet to tell Tim, upset at the thought of not being able to see him every morning from now onwards.
You had thought long and hard about it last night after you had confirmed your participation on the research team; you didn't want it to be the last time that you spoke to Tim tomorrow, you wanted him in your life.
So, you came to the conclusion that you would finally confess to him. You didn't want to continue the pining and end up in the purgatory that is the friendzone so you figured it would be the least risky to admit your feelings to him on your last day there. If he said no, you'd no longer have to run into him again every morning. If anything, he might be relieved that his regular coffee runs wouldn't be awkward from now on.
However, there was one new detail that was going to make your plan more embarrassing—
"This is my older brother, Dick." Tim introduced and you nodded, recalling when he talked about his extremely big family. Also, there was no one in city who wasn't aware of the Gotham prince, Dick Grayson, the oldest son of billionaire Bruce Wayne. Your eyes flittered between the both of them; despite being adopted, they shared a striking resemblance to each other.
You gave him a kind smile, "It's nice to finally meet you, Tim talks about you a lot."
"Good things, I hope." He responded, ever the ray of sunshine and you found yourself turning toward him like a lone sunflower. You realized he had that effect on people, the other customers also were privy to his presence. It was almost like he had a halo shining on the top of his head. The term 'Prince of Gotham' was certainly well-earned.
"Those are state secrets." You joked, playfully winking at him and he gave you a good-natured grin.
"So, what will you be having today?"
Tim ordered his regular and Dick got a matcha along with a vegan cheese tart for 'Dami' who you assumed was Tim's youngest brother Damian.
Tim held his card out for you to pay for their drinks and you inhaled sharply, digging your heel into your other foot to strengthen your resolve.
It was now or never, (Y/N).
You shook your head, trying your best to remain nonchalant even though your stomach was taking a rollercoaster ride, and you pins began to prick at your toes from how hard you were stepping on it with your other foot.
"it's on the house."
Tim tried to protest but you shut him down, not even making any moves to try and take his card from him, only handing him his receipt with the order number on it.
"Don't let your boss find out you're handing out freebies to everyone." He teased, sliding his card back into his wallet and you dug your nails into your palm, trying not to chicken out in the last second.
"Actually, the freebies are only for the cute customers that the barista has a crush on." You replied smoothly, grabbing the filter for the espresso machine and not looking back at Tim, afraid of his reaction.
Oh god, was your voice shaking? You tried your best to remain collected on the outside even though on the inside your heart was erupting like a volcano, magma flowing through your veins and setting your entire body ablaze.
You spared a small glance at his older brother, embarrassed that he was here to witness this. A sizzling heat began to run up your neck and to your cheeks, fingers stiff as you tamped the coffee.
A chuckle brought you out of your stupor and your stomach sank. It wasn't the usual laugh that Tim had, instead a mirthless sound that made you look back up at him, only to find him staring at the receipt you had given him, now crumpled him in a tight fist.
"Glad I’m the exception then," He said through gritted teeth, "I’m gonna go."
He left without making so much as another glance at you and your cheeks coloured in humiliation when you had realized his brother had seen that whole interaction with an equal expression of shock and pity that made you quickly bite down on an ice cube to prevent any tears from lining your lashes.
You quickly made the drinks, reminding yourself that it was okay since you were never gonna see him again, keeping your customer service smile on until his brother had left the store and then some before you finally let it fall.
***
"Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dick asked, placing Tim's coffee order on the console of the bat computer, already finished his matcha. The coffee had long been watered down; the ice had melted in the Gotham heat on his walk back home since Tim had just left him there at the coffee shop.
The younger brother ignored him, staring at the screen with a glare that began to get increasingly annoyed. When it became clear to him that Dick wasn't going to move from his side until he got an answer, Tim finally sighed "I’m sorry for ditching you at the coffee shop."
"Apology accepted but that's not what I meant. Why were you so mean to that poor girl? I mean if you didn't like her, you could've at least turned her down gently."
Tim scoffed, incredibly peeved, "Are you stupid? She was clearly asking you out! I've been going there for like 2 months now and she's never been so blushy and nervous before you walked in there with your stupid tall height and stupid big grin and stupid good looks!"
Dick's jaw dropped open; blue eyes wide with shock. Wasn't Timothy meant to be like the smartest and most logical one amongst them? As far as he knew he was also acknowledged by R’as Al Ghul himself as a remarkable detective. Hell, he had discovered the dark knight's secret identity when he was nine.
And yet—
"Are you fucking stupid? She wasn't asking me out! That cute little flirty compliment was clearly directed at you!"
Tim still looked upset, though Dick could clearly see that he was beginning to doubt his conclusions. Thank goodness, he didn't inherit Bruce’s or his brother's stubbornness.
"So, you like her but thought she was hitting on me, so you got all emo?" Dick deftly deduced, watching as an embarrassed rash spread across his pale skin, "Dude, you really hurt her feelings. I think she was about to cry when you walked out like that."
You had really tried to look like Tim's exit hadn't affected you and to an untrained eye it probably would've looked like that, but Dick noticed how you were chewing down on your bottom lip til it bled just to prevent from crying.
Tim's eyes now raised to him, now completely uncertain with a touch of guilt and Dick sighed.
He wasn't the son of the greatest detective for nothing, but it wouldn't take years of training to know what a lovesick boy looked like. He had found out that Tim had been visiting this particular coffee shop every day at the same time when he flat out refused to have Alfred’s French press in favour of driving across town to the penthouse, he'd sometimes sleep in just to get coffee.
Tim would never refuse Alfred’s French press unless he was unconscious. Or dead.
Which lead Dick to do some sleuthing.
Didn't take any effort to check his credit card statement and find out that he had been visiting this particular store every single day. Which is really the reason that Dick tagged along that day, to meet the girl who had so clearly captured his little brother's attention.
He was honestly giddy when he realized that you were shooting your shot right in front of him. Oh, he could see the wedding happening before his eyes already, where he would very obviously make his groomsman speech, telling the crowd how he had been there the day you finally became a couple.
But Tim merely crushed up the paper receipt in his hand before storming out and he was left alone in the coffee shop, having to watch as Tim's future wife kept her gaze anchored to the floor while she tried to make the coffee that she had just given them for free. He left a fifty in the tip jar right then.
This would not be the last time that his brother would do something stupid throughout the duration of your relationship. He supposed you might have dodged a bullet due to the misunderstanding but Dick was biased toward his brother and so he felt obligated to try and get you both together.
"Are you sure?"
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, "Tim, she didn't even speak to me after you left because she was so upset that the guy she had a crush on brutally turned her down."
His eyes narrowed still, "Are you sure?"
This time Dick had had it. He grabbed Tim's ear, unaffected by his shouts of pain and curses at him as he dragged him toward the elevator, "Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you go back to that coffee shop, apologize for being a jackass and ask her out. And you better take her to a fancy ass restaurant on your first date to make up for this mess."
"Okay! Okay!" Tim conceded, finally ripping his brother's hand from his ear and he crossed his arms, "You know, this wouldn't have even happened if you hadn't been a nosy ass and followed me to the coffee shop."
"This wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot either."
***
Tim had been silent during the patrol and while he wasn't the most talkative, it was unlike him to be this quiet. They were already an hour into the patrol and batman had yet to hear this voice of his son over the comms, but he didn't ask about it. He'd inquire about his son's personal life after patrol when he was back to being his parent and not his partner.
Something was definitely off however, since even Nightwing was more on the quiet side of the spectrum that night, which was extremely out of the ordinary.
It all had to do with what happened right before patrol--
Tim really hoped that Jason wouldn't kill him for stealing one of his motorcycles that he left at the manor but honestly it was the fastest way for him to get to the coffee shop without getting stuck in Gotham traffic. And really if Jason didn't want anyone to be using his motorcycle, he really shouldn't have left it in the garage with the keys there for anybody to take. Hadn't he learnt his lesson after Damian had tried to take one of Bruce’s cars?
Even though there were still a couple of hours for closing time, when Tim entered the store, you were nowhere to be found. Hearing the bell, your aunt had answered from the kitchen instead, telling him that she'd be right there in a moment.
When she finally emerged, wiping her hands on her apron, she stopped, recognizing Tim as a regular but he could tell that she didn't really know anything about him or even his name, "What can I get you?"
He angled his neck, trying to see if someone was in the kitchen but when he couldn't spot anything he turned back to your aunt who waited patiently, "Um, is (Y/N) not here?"
"Ah," She shook her head, "Since it was her last day working here, I let her go early."
Oh, Tim really should've had his coffee today because the caffeine withdrawal was starting to make him hear things. He could've sworn he just heard your aunt say that it was your last day working at the coffee shop.
"Last day? What do you mean?"
Tim returned to the Batcave just in time for patrol, shoulders hunched over and a pitiful frown on his face that had answered Nightwing’s question before he could even ask how it went. He didn't say anything else, just walking over to the change rooms without so much as a glance to his father or younger brother.
Understandably, your aunt refused to give your phone number to Tim considering she had no idea of your relationship with him. If there was any relationship anymore. You clearly had every intention to not be in his life anymore if he had turned you down, explaining why you decided to confess on your last day.
He had asked your aunt to pass his number to you but there was no telling whether she actually would or if you would call him even if she did.
And in retrospect it would be fairly easy for him to find your number or address or which university you went to, but how was he meant to explain how he coincidentally managed to run into you before explaining the misunderstanding and confessing his feelings?
His mind was wracked with questions, and he continued to beat himself up for thinking that you had been flirting with Dick in the first place. If he hadn't been such an idiot, he could've avoided this whole mess and could've avoided upsetting you.
Now even if he managed to find you, there was always a possibility that his reaction managed to turn you off and change your mind.
"Woah Timmy isn't that the girl you like?"
Dick's voice cut across the unusual silence for that night, ringing in his ears so suddenly that for a second, he didn't even register what he had said.
However, when he did, it was almost comical the way his head lurched up like a meercat, spotting Nightwing’s figure a couple of buildings away and immediately grappling toward him, nearly throwing himself off the side of the terrace trying to spot you.
You stepped out of Gotham university, hands clutching a binder to your chest. Tim wasn't sure what had his heart beating faster—the sight of your frost-bitten nose, tinged red from the cold—or that you weren't alone.
You were laughing with a man who, much to Tim’s dismay, was undeniably good-looking and wearing a lab coat, which meant he was clearly smart and shared your interests and oh you both were going to get married, and he was going to be alone and coffeeless for the rest of his life.
"What are they saying?!" Tim leant over the edge of the roof like a right fool.
"This is beginning to get creepy, baby bird." Dick commented from behind him, but all Tim could tell him was to shut up because he couldn't hear just what had you giggling so animatedly.
"it's great that undergrads get a chance to be on a research team; I know it might not seem like much but it's gonna look great on your resume, (Y/N)."
You narrowed your eyes teasingly, "You're just saying that because you're relieved someone is gonna be doing the literature review and wash your empty beakers."
The junior assistant, a postgrad student was in charge of showing you around the lab and giving you a list of your responsibilities. Since it was short notice, you were going to have to learn the ropes quite quickly so as to look competent to the other professors.
He laughed, patting your shoulder and you could've sworn you heard a sound similar to a bird shrieking from above you, "You caught me there. But you'll get your name on your first research paper so that's there."
"I am but a modern-day Cinderella." You grinned, walking with him til he reached his car. He sat in the driver's seat, not yet closing the door when he called out for you just as you were beginning to walk away, "Are you sure you don't want a ride home?"
You smiled but shook your head, "No, thank you, maybe next time."
You watched him pull out of the parking space before driving away, wondering whether you should wait for the bus or just take a cab back home. The next bus wasn't for another 25 minutes, and you didn't want to wait around in the dark, however, a cab would be four times the amount you'd spend using the bus.
You suppose you could've called your father and asked him to pick you up from the university, but he had just gotten home from work, and you would hate to ask him to have to come and get you.
You sighed and muttered underneath your breath, "I should've just asked him to take me home." before beginning your trudge home. A part of you was scolding yourself for taking possibly the most dangerous route home but the other part reminded yourself that it was unlikely for anything to happen.
Besides, you had seen Nightwing patrol the area earlier that night and it was way too early for the bats to turn in for the night. With any luck, he was still roaming around here.
***
Looking back, taking a shortcut through an alleyway wasn't the smartest plan you had ever made. However, you were lucky enough because it seemed like the bats had been watching over you for the night; you didn't even have the chance to get mugged before Red Robin has scared off your potential attackers. You hadn't even noticed them creeping up behind you.
You simply stared at him, starstruck. It was the first time you had ever come into contact with the Gotham cryptids and you had least expected an encounter with the most elusive of them, Red Robin.
You had known he had black hair but through a screen it had really looked more like oily snakes that had further cemented your belief that they were demons.
But up close, his hair was soft and silky, he smelt of sweat and grime but with a slight tinge of cologne hidden underneath. You continued to stare at him, feeling like you could tattoo the sight of him onto your retinas.
"Um," You began, not sure how to even begin the conversation. Should you thank him for saving your life? Or apologize for being an inconvenience. Instead, you found yourself following his gaze to the lapel of your lab coat, only to find him staring at the Red Robin insignia pinned there. It was then you had been reminded of the same interaction with Tim Drake.
"Just so you know, you're way better looking than Tim Drake."
You were in slight awe of Red Robin and also still heartbroken over Tim Drake's scorn earlier that day, so you felt the need to settle the score with him even though it would clearly never make its way back to him.
Afterall what were the chances that the vigilante Red Robin knew the trust fund baby Tim Drake? They didn't exactly run in the same circles.
The masked man just stared at you in surprise, quite frozen after your declaration and honestly you couldn't blame him. He had just saved your life and instead of thanking him you began complimenting his good looks while at the same time insulting a completely random man, when really you had no business doing because you didn't really know what he looked like.
Though the more you stared at his face, finding your eyes drawing lines down the same jawline, cupid's bow, and nose bridge, you couldn't help but find similarities between the man you had just compared him to—
You physically shook the thought out of your head.
"Okay, then," You finished, finally turning around to walk away from him, having had enough of standing awkwardly in the middle of the alley, "Thank you agai—!"
"(Y/N), wait!" His gloved fingers clasped around your wrist, and you cut yourself off abruptly, staring up at him in surprise. It seemed his response had surprised him as well, considering the way he continued to stare at you. You couldn't really see his wide-eyed gaze due to the domino, but you could tell from the slight gap of his mouth and the raised brow.
Your lashes fluttered as you lowered your eyes to the hand still around your own, his voice echoing through your head. He had a modulator but this close to him it felt like you could hear the voice underneath it. His voice was crisper, cleaner and lighter underneath the automated depth, you could hear it just slightly through the syllables of your name.
You looked back at the whites of his mask, "How did you know my name?"
You weren't accusing him of anything, at least he didn't think so, not from your voice. You sounded genuinely curious and your eyes ping-ponged over his features, trying to find something. Then he noticed the ways they slightly narrowed before you whispered, "Tim?"
His jaw went slack, eyes going so comically wide now that you had just known you knocked the hammer right on the head. He took a step back, finally releasing your hand and you cupped your gaping mouth, in shock yourself.
"Wait seriously?! I was just guessing! Why on earth would you make it so obvious!" You chastised.
"I’m sorry, ok?! I didn't have any coffee today and so my brain isn't braining today!"
You crossed your arms over your chest, "And who's fault is that? You're the one who stormed out of the cafe after rejecting me—after I literally gave your drinks for free!"
Red Robin—Tim winced, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze fluttered guiltily away from yours, "That was...not my best moment."
"Not your best moment? You acted like I spat on your whole family and condemned you to death!" Okay perhaps you were being a tad bit dramatic, but it had been an extremely long day, and you kept being presented with new information which was a lot to take.
You were just a girl, for god's sake!
"Ok, in my defense, I thought you were confessing to my brother—not me! So, if anything, I was upset that you might like my family a little too much!" He retaliated and you gaped at him, incredulous.
"You are just—wow, unbelievable." You finally breathed. Truthfully, you didn't know what to even do now, something told you that you weren't going to be able to walk home completely unharmed. Since you knew his identity, the worst that could happen was that one of his bat friends was hanging over you to put you out of your misery. Best case scenario, you'd sign an NDA and be on your merry way home.
"I’m sorry, (Y/N). This is all my fault, I was being an idiot earlier and I got insecure cuz I thought you were asking out my brother which stung cuz I’ve been crushing on you for like months now." He finally admitted, holding his gaze low.
If you hadn’t been deafened by the sound of your heart pounding wildly in your chest at his confession, you would’ve given him a hard time about how nervous he seemed—just as you had been before he so brutally turned you down.
"You like me?" Your question, simple as it was, still managed to make Tim's heartrate escalate.
"Yes—I mean, of course—How could I not?"
You blushed, a gleeful response already on the tip of your tongue. Well, you would have, if you hadn’t suddenly been shrouded in a bat-shaped shadow that had you instinctively pressing yourself closer to Tim.
"Oh, I’m so dead." Tim muttered under his breath the second he had caught the figure of his father standing atop a building, having heard everything over the comms.
Your eyes widened and you stepped closer to him, a hand tightening around the utility belt strapped to his chest. You had remembered the rumours of what had happened to the second robin.
Tim's attention was snapped back to you the second he heard your sharp intake of breath, "N-Not literally, really (Y/N). I’m probably just gonna get grounded."
That got you to loosen your grip with a relieved sigh, relaxing and letting go.
"Grounded? As in Red Robin is grounded. Or Tim Drake?"
"Probably Tim Drake, Red Robin is still needed in the field. Maybe both." He admitted with a wince, and you have him a gentle pat on the chest that was meant to be a kind of 'there, there'. He gave you a small smile, gloved fingers holding the hand to his chest.
"I suppose our first date will have to wait, huh?"
Tim would be lying if a part of him hadn't kind of expected you to rethink everything. I mean, he had been so mean to you when turning you down after jumping to wild conclusions at no fault of your own. Then there was also his secret that he had been stupid enough to reveal to you.
You didn't deserve this; you deserved much better.
Still these thoughts were extremely fleeting, easily overthrown by his feeling of giddiness and outright joy, a blinding grin taking over his face.
"I guess so. I'll make it up to you, though—Dinner's on me."
You scoffed, "It better be, I’m standing in an alley 15 minutes past curfew with the identity of one of the illusive bats all because you thought I had a thing for your brother."
If his cheeks weren't already bitten from the cold, you would have watched as they went aflame, "I was young and stupid."
"It was this morning!"
"I was eight hours younger."
***
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