#it look me a minute to work out how i wanted to gif this but here he is. looking extremely babygirl

[mattybsgroupie]

— tub ★ matt sturniolo

— CONTENTS: established relationship; making out; semi-public sex; p in v; creampie; sub!matt

— NOTES: i literally gasped when i saw that pic and i just had to tell @mattscoquette how much i needed hot tub sex with him. well… here it is! i know i have so many requests but i promise i’m gonna write them all! not proofread as usual, i apologize for any mistakes, hope you enjoy it ♡

“finally” matt mumbled under his breath as he watched chris drink his last sip of soda before wrapping himself in a towel and getting inside the house. you chuckled at his comment, dragging your arms across the warm liquid that embraced you and moving towards matt. “why? i thought you were having fun”.

“i will have fun” he said, reaching for your hands and interlocking your fingers in each other’s palms as he pulled you closer, face to face with him. “now that it’s only us” .

“you’re so lucky water distorts the actual form of things” you teased, placing your forearms around his shoulders and comfortably positioning yourself on his lap, feeling matt’s boner against you. “i could tell you were hard 30 minutes ago” you continued, index flickering around matt’s necklace. you went further, bringing the chain in between your teeth before closing your lips around the cold metal, deeply staring inside his blue orbs.

“it’s not my fault” matt whispered, not being able to keep his eyes off of you. “not when you look this good” he allowed his hands to travel across your body, stopping by your hips and forcing them down. you gasped with the sudden contact, matt’s cock seemed to have gotten even harder if that was possible.

the purple, blueish light that shimmered from the corners of the tub along with the warm bubbles turned the moment intimate, and matt couldn’t help it — he pressed his chapped lips on your neck, licking the tiny droplets of water there.

you let out a heavy sigh, letting go of his chain and tilting your head to the side, allowing matt to go further. his stubble tickled against your skin as the kisses got more heated, his teeth gently nibbling on your exposed neck.

lost in matt’s touch, your hips started moving in a pace of their own, slowly grinding your covered pussy against matt’s hardened cock. the pressure caused by the water intensified the proximity of your parts, causing matt to groan in a low tone, trying his best to stay quiet.

“my good boy doesn’t wanna be loud?” you teased and matt threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “mhm” he nodded, “don’t call me that”.

“why? you don’t want chris to know his big brother is all worked up from a little grinding?” matt nods again. your thumb hovered over his lips, brushing above the lower one before pulling it down in a pout. “use your big boy words” you demand as matt sticks his tongue out, licking your digit.

“need you” matt whined, his grip on your waist growing tighter. “need you so bad, please” he repeated, slightly jerking his pelvis upwards, a silent plead for you to notice his aching cock. you leaned in and sealed your lips together, intensifying the kiss as your hands traced their way down his torso, your nails scratching his chest.

matt’s hands went to your ass, harshly grabbing your flesh and lifting you from his lap. you took the opportunity to quickly pull his shorts — just enough to free his dick from the swimwear he was wearing. you could tell matt’s eyes were wandering around the backyard, as if he was checking if you were actually alone. you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you and smiling warmly, letting him know he didn’t have to worry about a thing.

his sneaky fingers reached the straps of your bikini, easily undoing the tie and letting the black fabric hang loose, your bare pussy now only a few inches away from his shaft. matt guided you towards his length, lowering your cunt on his tip. you let out a deep sigh before fully sitting on him, his dick opening you up entirely. “fuck fuck fuck” he whimpered, “s-so tight fuck”.

“be a good boy hm? you want to shut you up?” you said, trying your best to keep your composure. matt’s veins pumped inside you, his tip brushing on your cervix. “nhng— yes… can’t be loud”. you chuckled at his eagerness, pressing your lips against his once more and sliding your tongue in, twirling the wet muscle around his own.

“you’re so big” you said amidst the kiss before pulling away, flickering your gaze from his lips to where your parts met. “look how good you fill me up hm?” matt nodded. it all felt too good. almost too much. he had been staring at you for hours, and his cock was throbbing underneath that bathing suit. the warm water around his body, your hands pressing his biceps, your pussy squeezing him. “you’re right here” you said, gently grabbing his wrist and placing his palm on your tummy.

“please i-i need to—” matt whimpered, his grip on your ass growing tighter as he bucked his hips upwards, mindlessly pounding inside you. you felt your own high approaching, the familiar knot on your lower belly begging to be released. “cum! please!” matt cried out loud. you shushed him, grabbing his jaw and lifting his chin up. moans came from the back of his throat, and you had no other choice but to bring your fingers to his open mouth. matt immediately wrapped his lips around your knuckles, sucking them with all his might.

“good boy” you praised him, receiving a muffled whine from him. “cum for me baby, fill me up” as you gave him permission, matt’s entire body trembled underneath you. his orgasm washed over him and his release threw you over the edge, the warm, thick spurts of cum painting your walls white.

matt panted heavily, tiny droplets of water dripping from his brown strands. none of you wanted to let go or get up, the comfort of being in each other’s embrace being enough to fall asleep right there — and you wouldn’t mind cockwarming him for the rest of the night. unfortunately, you still had to find your bikini panties and he had to make sure his brothers were already asleep. “hey, at least we didn’t make any messes huh?” he joked, giving you one last kiss before getting up and turning the lights from the hot tub off.

— TAGLIST ★ @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknott @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @ivammbb @shadowthesim237 @slutformatthewsturniolo @stefansring @teeheeomg @dystfopia @riasturns @faiyaz555 @sturnslutz @alesturniolos @emely9274 @courta13 @elandrys @sturns-mermaid @mattsplaything @marrykisskilled @bells-sturn @mattsgstring @strnilolover @jetaimevous @aaliyahsturniolo @evie-sturns @ivysturnss

complete masterlist ★ matt masterlist

[dollesung]

FEMME FATALE .ᐟ

PAIRING. jungwon x fem reader GENRE. nsfw REQUESTED? yes. WORD COUNT. 1.7k. SYNOPSIS. after a girls day out with your friends, you show your boyfriend, jungwon, your newest set of nails. let's just say he's more than a fan. WARNINGS. sub jungwon. dom reader. reader also yaps a lot. profanities. handjob. dirty talk. jungwon thinking with his penis and his penis only. (lmao). minors do not interact.

NOTE. i wrote this at the hospital semi-drugged on some strong-ass painkillers. i shouldn’t be held responsible for whatever the fuck i wrote but i will be (i’m jk, not about the hospital and the drugs tho.)

Jungwon was waiting by the couch when you got home.

Arm perched by the backrest, with a late-night show illuminating on the TV. Jungwon was nearly half-asleep, as he blankly stared at the screen, but his face lightened at the sight of your figure entering your shared-apartment.

You had an exhausting, but exciting day out with your girl friends. You spent a lot of hours shopping for clothes and bags, as well as pampering yourself with an entire session at a spa and salon.

You deserved it after tiring your back out at work for months now, project after project piling themselves at your desk. Jungwon, of course, your ever-loving boyfriend who could never resist you, absolutely agreed that you needed some time off and supported your endevour.

“Baby, you’re home,” speaking of, Jungwon greets you as you walk in the door, with a multiple array of shopping bags in both hands. “Let me help you with those.”

You give him a grin, handing over half of the bags and letting Jungwon place them on the sofa. He grabs the remote from the coffee table by the TV and shuts it off, wanting to focus entiret on you. (Not that he cared much about that show, anyway.)

Jungwon sets some of your bags down on the floor, leaving a bit of space for the two of you to sit.

“So,” he begins. “How was your day?”

MORE UNDER THE CUT.

“Oh, it was fantastic,” you gush, repositioning yourself to face your boyfriend. “The girls and I spent waaaay too much cash on this one spa but it was kinda worth it because I’ve never felt so relaxed—“

You begin to tell him loads of anecdotes about your day, the stuff you bought, the stores you went into, and without question, Jungwon listened quietly, resting his elbow against the couch and his head against his hand. He let you go on for a few minutes, wanting to hear everything about your day.

“—then, after that, we went to a Dior store, I bought you a perfume, but thankfully they didn’t have the shoes I wanted in my size because I was sure I was going broke already, and oh—!” You stop mid-rant, suddenly remembering something you had in mind earlier today.

“Yes?” Jungwon pried you to continue.

“I got my nails done!” You exclaimed, excited. “You wanna see them?”

“Of course, baby,” Jungwon responded with interest.

You squealed in delight, excited to show the man your new set. You always loved getting your nails done, but in the last couple of months, you were unable to get them fixed due to work.

“Okay, close your eyes,” you instructed, and Jungwon obliged. You placed your hands, palms down in front of his face and told him to look. “Open them.”

Jungwon eyes fluttered open as you told him to, and he was immediately greeted with the image of both of your hands.

“Tada!” You giggled. “I got them in your favorite color!”

The nails, colored both blue and black with a chromatic finish, shined as Jungwon eyed them, with a hand on your wrist so he could get a better look.

“These are really pretty—“ Jungwon notes, feeling his mouth go a little dry. “And long…”

You give the man a frown. “Do you not like them?”

“No—!” He exclaims, giving you an eager look. “I love them! They’re pretty.. I’ve just.. never seen you go for long nails before.”

Not knowing what to say, you keep quiet, watching as Jungwon continues to examine your nails like he’s never seen anything like it before.

You begin to notice a subtle flush of color in his cheeks, as well as the sudden change in his demeanor. His eyes flick between your face and your hands, and you notice him swallow, before licking his lips.

Then, your eyes flick down, towards his lap.

“Oh,” you vocalize, eyebrows raised and lips curling into a smirk. “Really, Wonnie?”

There was an evident print of his bulge against his shorts, which you swore wasn’t there before, given the fact that he’s been staring at your hands a little longer than an average person would, and his earlier expressions, the puzzle pieces click in your head.

Jungwon seems to have noticed your realization, as he makes a move to pull away and hide. “S-Sorry–!”

You grab the man by the wrist, lithe fingers wrapping themselves around the limb. You can almost feel his pulse quickening. “Don’t hide, baby.”

His face is flushed red, and he’s attempting to look away from you, possibly ashamed. You reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look you in the eye. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you comfort. “It’s okay.”

“I-I don’t know why…” He attempts.

“There’s no need to explain, love,” you give him a comforting smile. “C’mere.”

You pull him forward gently, allowing him to settle on your lap. You place a hand on his hip, while your other hand starts to brush up against his leg, leaving feather-like touches from his waist, down to his thigh, to his knees. 

Jungwon’s breath hitches, eyes locked on your hands, watching your every move. Then, after fiddling with the hem of Jungwon’s shorts, you press your palm against his bulge, cupping his half-hard cock against his shorts.

“Ah, n-noona,” Jungwon moans. “Y-Your hand…”

“Want me to stop?” You ask, watching Jungwon’s face for any signs of discomfort.

Instead, Jungwon fervently shakes his head, urging you to continue. You press your hand against him a little harder, eliciting a moan from the other. He throws his head back a little, his hands grabbing your shoulders for support.

Jungwon’s hips produce the tiniest bit of movement, and you’re not even sure if he’s aware he’s done it, but you urge him on, gripping his hip with your other hand and letting him grind against you.

“Fuck,” he curses, already looking breathless as he continues to grind on your hand. “Please?”

“Please what?” You look up at the boy, drunk on the image of him absolutely flushed and panting on your lap. “Let noona know what you want.”

Jungwon gasps, hands clenching against your shoulders. “Y-Your hand, please?”

A small part of you wants to continue teasing him, wants to see how far he can beg just for your hand alone, but you decide to take pity on the boy. You push him off your lap and instruct him to take his shorts and boxers off. 

Drunk on his own arousal, Jungwon follows as instructed, tugging the articles of clothing off of himself and unto the floor. Then, you tell him to turn around and sit back on your lap, right after you lean against the arm of the couch. 

Jungwon hesitantly takes his spot back on your lap, and you pull him close, his back flush against your chest. You start to press open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of his neck, relishing at the way the boy shivers at each one.

“Please, ah– stop teasing me,” Jungwon voices, hands placed on each of your knee.

You let out an entertained chuckle, letting your hands wander under Jungwon’s shirt. “You’re not exactly in the right position to be making demands, baby.”

Jungwon didn’t respond and remained quiet, whimpering as your fingers brushed against his nipples, before trailing back down to his legs. You watched in amusement as goosebumps appeared against his skin when you rake your nails ever so lightly against his inner thighs.

Your take a glance at the appendage between his legs, his cock, now hard as a rock, stood between his thighs, looking a little closer, you can almost see the precum pooling from the tip.

You laugh, amused. “You’re so fucking hard, huh?”

Jungwon doesn’t respond, embarrassed at the entire situation, eyes closed shut to avoid both looking at you and at his own arousal. 

“This what you wanted, Wonnie?” You ask rhetorically, before slowly wrapping your fingers around his cock.

“S-Shit,” he curses under his breath.

“Answer me,” you order, giving his cock a rough squeeze.

“Fuck, yes–!” He yelps, panting against your chest. 

“Good boy,” you whisper in his ear with a smirk, before starting a slow pace, stroking his cock with your hand.

“Oh, god,” Jungwon moans, hand loosely holding onto your wrist, as if he was bracing himself. 

You take a minute, stroking his cock at this pace, after a while, you decide to speed things up, focusing on the base of his cock. 

“O-Oh, noona–!” Jungwon’s moans only grow in volume, throwing his head back, against your shoulder. He’s starting to thrash on your lap, legs shaking and eyes closing from the sensation.

“Feels good, hm?” You taunt the boy on your lap, drunk on every moan he lets out. “Feel good, acting like a slut on my lap, Wonnie?”

The boy practically squeals, shaking his head, as if to deny your claim. “N-Not a– shit!”

You didn’t let him finish, the pace of your hand picking up speed as you continued to jerk him off. His thighs begin to shake, threatening to close on your wrists, but your legs keep him from doing so, trapping his legs between yours.

“Look at this fucking cock,” you taunt, giving the organ an experimental squeeze. “Fuckin’ leaking all over my hand.”

Jungwon whines, both hands now gripping your wrist. You’re not sure if he’s attempting to push you off or urging you to continue. ‘’m suh– sorry!”

You take Jungwon’s chin with your other hand, forcing him to look down. “This what you wanted, Wonnie? My hand around your cock, hm?”

He’s nodding so aggressively, eyes locked on his cock, as if he was hypnotized at the sight of your hand– or more importantly, at the sight of your nails, wrapped around his dick.

“Please, n-noona–!” He’s whining, back nearly arching against your chest as you continued your assault on his cock. “I-I’m, ungh, c-close!”

“Want you to cum, baby,” you mouth against Jungwon’s ear. “Cum all over noona’s hand, baby.”

It takes only four strokes before Jungwon was cumming all over your lap. His back arched and head thrown back, eyes shut and mouth open in a silent scream. After a moment, he wilts and nearly collapses against your chest.

As you maneuver him off your lap and onto the couch, you grab a tissue from the coffee table to clean the both of you up. Jungwon is still catching his breath by the arm of the couch after you finish.

“So,” you start. “I’m definitely going back to that nail salon.”

Jungwon chucks a pillow over your head in retaliation.

NOTE. ngl, can't remember writing that ending so idk why it sucks so much.

© dollesung 2025

[lunaswicked]

Sweet Spot

A/N: Sorry this one took so long, college has been kicking my black ass, but im back with a juicy Roman fic!

Paring: Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: A bold ultimatum turns into an irresistible claim when you demand your place in Roman Reigns' Bloodline. What starts as a power struggle quickly turns into something far more intense as Roman asserts his dominance.

Tags: Oral, (female receiving), language, p in v, smut village, claiming, 18+, USE YOUR IMAGINATION BABE!!!

“The Tribal Chief will be back soon after his interview, Y/N. You really shouldn’t be in here—”  

Paul Heyman’s voice carried that usual mix of authority and nervousness, like he was trying to keep the peace but also lowkey freaking out. Classic Wiseman behavior. But before he could finish, you hit him with a cold, uninterested stare and cut him off.  

“I don’t care… Paul.” You dragged his name out like it tasted bitter on your tongue. Your arms crossed over your chest, your body language screaming defiance as you dropped into one of Roman’s ridiculously expensive leather chairs, making yourself comfortable. “I’m staying right here until I talk to Roman about the Bloodline.”  

Paul’s mouth opened, then shut like a fish out of water. He clearly wasn’t used to people shutting him down, especially not when it came to anything involving Roman. He adjusted his tie, the slight fidget a dead giveaway that he was scrambling for a way to handle you without setting off a nuclear-level argument.  

"Y/N," he started again, voice softer now, like he was trying to reason with a child throwing a tantrum. "I understand your frustration, but decisions like these take time. The Tribal Chief has a lot to consider—”  

You scoffed, leaning back in the chair like you owned the damn place. “Paul, don’t give me that ‘decisions take time’ speech. Roman’s been stringing me along for months. Either I’m in, or I’m out. No more waiting around while he plays mind games.”  

Paul’s lips pressed into a thin line. You could tell he wanted to say something slick, something wise and calculated, but you were past the point of caring. Your patience had been worn down to nothing. You weren’t just some random outsider begging for a spot—you had proven yourself. You had bled for this. And yet, Roman still hadn’t made the call.  

Paul sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples like you were personally giving him a migraine. “This is not how things work. You don’t just demand to see Roman. You wait for him to summon you.”  

You rolled your eyes. “Summon me? Paul, be fucking for real right now. I’m not some peasant waiting on a royal decree. If Roman wants loyalty, he needs to show me I’m not wasting my damn time.”  

Paul exhaled sharply, clearly at a loss. He checked the time on his phone like that was gonna magically make Roman appear faster. “If you just wait—”  

“No,” you cut in. “I’m done waiting.”  

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. Any minute now, Roman would be walking through that door. And when he did, you were gonna make damn sure he finally gave you an answer.

You adjusted the black dress draped over your body, subtly pulling at the slit running up your thigh. The fabric clung to your curves just right—not that you planned it for Roman, but if he noticed, well… that was his problem.  

Paul gave you one last lingering look, one that screamed you’re playing a dangerous game, before he sighed and exited Roman’s private room. The door shut with a soft click, leaving you alone in the space that practically reeked of dominance and control.  

Minutes passed as you scrolled mindlessly through your phone, pretending like your heart wasn’t racing. Like you weren’t anticipating the moment he walked through that door. And then—  

Click. Thud.  

Your head snapped up at the sound, and there he was.  

Roman Reigns.  

Dressed in a sleek black suit, crisp white shirt, and a tie that somehow made him look even more powerful. His presence alone sucked the air from the room, commanding attention without a single word. And damn, did he look good. So good that heat crawled up your neck before you could stop it. For a split second, you almost forgot why you were here in the first place. Almost.  

His sharp eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, before one eyebrow quirked up.  

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his voice was smooth, teasing, laced with amusement. “Who let you in here?”  

The way he said sweetheart sent a shiver down your spine, but you kept your composure, tilting your chin up as he stepped closer. He shrugged off his suit jacket and placed it on the chair beside you, the fabric brushing against your arm like a silent reminder of his presence.  

You swallowed, clearing your throat before answering. “I—I let myself in.”  

He hummed at that, walking over to the small table in the corner, pouring himself a cup of coffee like he had all the time in the world. The casual dominance, the way he moved, the sheer confidence—infuriating.  

“And where’s Paul?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips.  

“He left.”  

That made him pause. His head turned slightly, eyebrow raising again.  

“He left?” Roman repeated, almost like he didn’t believe you. Paul never left before he was back. Ever.  

You crossed your arms, refusing to shrink under his gaze.  

“So, let me get this straight.” He took a slow sip of his coffee, eyes still locked on you. “You invite yourself in… and then run off my Wiseman?”  

You bit the inside of your cheek, pulse flickering under his intense stare.  

“I wouldn’t say run off,” you muttered, shifting slightly.  

Roman smirked, setting his coffee down with a soft clink. He took a step closer, the air between you growing heavier with every movement.  

“Mm. That so?” His voice was low, edged with something dangerously amused.  

You weren’t sure if you wanted to punch him or let that voice do dangerous things to you. Maybe both.

You straightened your back, squaring your shoulders as you met his gaze head-on. No more games. No more waiting.  

“I’m here to tell you that I’m not waiting anymore, Roman,” you said, voice firm despite the way his presence made your pulse spike. “It’s either I’m part of your Bloodline, or I’m not. I mean, it’s been months, and I—”  

You didn’t even get to finish.  

Roman lifted a hand, cutting you off without a word. The simple gesture was enough to shut you down, not because you wanted to stop talking, but because there was something about the way he did it—calm, effortless, like he already had control of the entire situation. Like you were only here because he allowed it.  

Then, before you could react, he moved.  

Two long strides, and he was right in front of you, towering over you, his scent wrapping around your senses like a noose. Clean, masculine, laced with expensive cologne and something undeniably him.  

His eyes flickered down to yours, dark and unreadable.  

“Up. Now.”  

A command. Not a request.  

Your body reacted before your brain could catch up, pushing up from the chair without hesitation.  

You stood, arms crossing over your chest as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. Even in heels, he made you feel small, like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to. The heat rolling off him, the authority dripping from every inch of his stance—it was infuriating.  

And yet, you still obeyed.

Roman moved around you with a slow, calculated pace, like a predator circling its prey. Every step was deliberate, heavy with unspoken authority. You felt his presence even when you couldn't see him, the energy in the room shifting with every move he made.  

Then, he stopped behind you.  

The heat of his body ghosted over your back, close enough that you could feel him but not close enough to touch. His fingers landed on your shoulder, featherlight but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.  

“It’s risky,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, the kind that made the air in your lungs thin. “And you’re too sweet.”  

You clenched your jaw, shaking your head immediately. “I’m not sweet,” you shot back, voice sharper than you intended.  

Behind you, Roman chuckled, the sound deep and knowing, like he was in on a joke you weren’t privy to.  

“Sweet,” he mused, his fingers trailing lightly over your shoulder before pulling away. “But not fragile.”  

You swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you.  

“I can handle it,” you said, turning your head slightly but not fully facing him.  

Roman didn’t respond right away. Instead, he let the silence stretch, let the weight of his presence press into you, let the moment settle in a way that made your pulse hammer against your ribs.  

Then, he leaned in just a fraction, voice nothing but a whisper against your ear.  

“Are you sure about that, sweetheart?”

You inhaled sharply, the warmth of his breath still lingering against your skin. Roman didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he stepped away, walking toward the locker in the corner of the room, leaving you standing there, your body still buzzing from his proximity.  

You turned slightly, watching as he opened the locker with ease, rummaging through it before pulling out a black T-shirt. Bold red letters stretched across the fabric.  

Bloodline.

Your breath hitched.  

Roman turned back to you, holding the shirt in one hand as he strode forward. The look in his eyes was unreadable—calm, unreadable, but undeniably intense.  

“This is yours,” he said simply, stopping just inches from you. His voice was smooth, but there was something deeper laced within it. Something that made your stomach twist.  

He held the shirt out, his fingers brushing against yours as you reached for it.  

“Was gonna give it to you next week,” he continued, eyes flickering over you like he was assessing you all over again. “But you’re so damn bold… so here.”  

Your fingers curled around the fabric, your heart pounding in your chest.  

You stared down at the shirt in your hands, the bold red Bloodline lettering staring right back at you like it was daring you to make a choice. The room felt heavier now, charged with something unspoken, something dangerous.  

Roman took a step back, arms folding across his broad chest as he watched you. He licked his lips, the slow drag of his tongue over them making your stomach tighten.  

“How about you put it on right now?” he said, voice smooth, low, but laced with authority. Like he wasn’t really asking.  

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the intensity in them made your breath hitch. He was testing you. Waiting.  

You exhaled slowly, then—without breaking eye contact—you reached for the hem of your dress and pulled it over your head in one swift motion, leaving you in nothing but your black lace bra and matching panties. The air in the room shifted instantly.  

Roman’s jaw clenched. His eyes darkened, flickering over your body with a heat that sent shivers down your spine.  

You smirked slightly, then took your time slipping the Bloodline shirt over your head, letting it fall just below your thighs. The fabric was soft, the scent of him still lingering on it.  

Roman exhaled sharply through his nose, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.  

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath before stepping closer, his fingers grazing the hem of the shirt as he looked down at you. “Fits you good, sweetheart.”  

You tilted your chin up, your own smirk growing. “I told you I belong here.”  

Roman chuckled, low and deep. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

Your back hit the wall before you even realized he was moving. Roman was on you in an instant, his sheer presence crowding your space, making the air between you crackle with tension. 

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unwavering, his expression unreadable—but his intent? Crystal clear. 

“Rules,” he murmured, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, his fingers slow, deliberate.  

Your breath hitched, chest rising and falling faster as you swallowed hard. “Rules?” you echoed, barely recognizing your own voice.  

Roman’s jaw clenched, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your face.  

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low, rough, possessive. “Mine. Not Jey’s. Not Jimmy’s. Not Solo’s. Mine.”  

The way he said it, like it was law—like it was already written in stone—made your stomach tighten. Your pulse hammered against your ribs as his hand lifted, fingers grazing the hem of the Bloodline shirt now hanging loosely on your frame.  

“You understand that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice thick with something dangerous, something that sent a shiver down your spine.  

You licked your lips, your throat suddenly dry. But you didn’t back down. You wouldn’t.  

“I understand,” you whispered, your voice softer than you intended.  

Roman smirked, but it wasn’t playful. It was dark. Satisfied. Like he’d just won.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with promise. “I’m gonna pull these down, taste you, then I’m gonna fuck you—hit that sweet spot over and over, just to remind you of exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into.” His words were low, dangerous, and laced with an undeniable intensity.

The heat surged through you as he slowly slid your panties down, his touch deliberate and teasing. You gasped, breath hitching, "Roman—" you whimpered, unable to hide the desire creeping into your voice. His gaze never left yours, intense and unwavering, as he slid his middle finger between your folds, making your pulse race even faster.

He set a slow, teasing rhythm, his fingers moving in a steady pace, the sound of your wetness filling the room, making the atmosphere thick with tension. "Oh god—" you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure coursed through you. Roman’s jaw tightened, his grip firm as he continued, his pace unrelenting, each movement deliberate, driving you closer to the edge.

"This what you wanted, sweetheart?" he groans in your ear, his pace quickening, pushing you further into a haze of pleasure. You struggle to catch your breath, "Mhm... yes..." you whimper, your body betraying your words. 

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out, his grip shifting as he hooks his arms around your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up against the wall. He raises you so high that your pussy aligns directly with his face, and the shift leaves you breathless, heart pounding.

Roman’s breath was warm as he hovered just inches from where you needed him most, his lips so close that every exhale sent a new wave of desperation coursing through you. Then, without warning, he blew a slow, teasing stream of air against your wetness, the sensation making you jolt in his grip.  

"You’re dripping, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction, with control, with possession. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and heavy with intent, waiting—watching—as your body reacted to his every move.  

The heat between your thighs throbbed, and your fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, desperate for more. But Roman? He took his time, his hold firm, ensuring you had nowhere to run from the way he was about to ruin you.

That was the moment you lost all control—the second his tongue darted out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe against your slick heat without warning. A choked gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall as a surge of pleasure shot through you like wildfire.  

“F-fuck—” you stuttered, your voice barely above a breath, but he didn’t give you a chance to gather yourself. His grip tightened on your ass, his fingers digging in possessively as he held you in place, completely at his mercy.  

Then, he latched onto that sensitive bead, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, making your entire body jerk in response. A strangled moan tore from your throat, your thighs trembling around his head as you instinctively tried to press closer, needing more—needing everything.  

He groaned against you, the vibration sending another pulse of pleasure straight through your core. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue. “Let me hear you.”  

Your fingers curled in his hair, tugging helplessly as your legs threatened to give out—not that he’d let you fall. He had you trapped, exactly where he wanted you, and he wasn’t stopping until you were completely undone.

His dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with hunger and unrelenting dominance. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch, anticipation coiling in your stomach like a tightly wound spring.  

Without breaking eye contact, he shifted his hold, dropping his left hand, leaving you suspended with only one strong arm wrapped around your waist. The sheer power he possessed sent a shiver down your spine, reminding you just how effortlessly he controlled you.  

With his free hand, he worked the button of his slacks, then the zipper, his movements slow—calculated. The sound of fabric rustling filled the room as his slacks slid down his legs, pooling at his ankles, followed by the drop of his boxers. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, thick and hard, standing tall beneath you.  

Roman smirked at your reaction, his grip tightening. “See something you like, sweetheart?” he rasped, amusement laced in his deep voice.  

You swallowed hard, unable to form words, but the need pooling between your thighs said enough.  

He didn’t give you time to dwell on it. Instead, he adjusted his stance, his large hands gripping your thighs as he guided you down, letting gravity and desire take over. Your back slid down the wall, your body trembling from the overwhelming sensation of his warmth pressing against you.  

A sharp gasp tore from your lips the moment you felt him stretching you, inch by inch, your walls molding around his thick length. Roman groaned, his head falling forward as he buried himself deep inside you, his grip bruising as he held you still.  

“Fuck—” he growled through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You feel even better than I thought.”  

Your nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure and pain blended into something euphoric, leaving you breathless. “please—ooHH MY GOddd” you whimpered, voice breaking in agony.  

He lifted his head, his nose grazing yours, his lips ghosting over your parted ones. “What, baby?” he taunted, rolling his hips just enough to make you whine. “This what you wanted?”  

You barely managed a nod, your body trembling in his grasp.  

He smirked, dark and wicked, his hands tightening around your thighs as he pressed you harder against the wall. “Good,” he murmured, voice dripping with authority. “’Cause I ain’t lettin’ you go now.”  

His dark hair slipped free from the messy bun, cascading over his broad shoulders as sweat glistened on his golden skin, accentuating every defined muscle and intricate tattoo under the dim lighting. His pace was relentless now, each deep thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body, pressing you harder against the wall.  

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and his low, guttural grunts. His grip on your thighs was firm, possessive, holding you in place as he drove into you with a punishing rhythm.  

Roman’s head tilted back slightly, his jaw clenched, his breath heavy. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” His voice was deep, laced with raw dominance. His piercing eyes found yours again, dark and full of hunger. “Wanted to be part of my Bloodline so bad…” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, making you cry out.  

You could barely think, let alone respond, but that didn’t stop him.  

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, “Then you’re mine now, sweetheart.” His teeth grazed your earlobe before he sucked it between his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.  

Your nails raked down his back, desperate for something to hold onto. “R-Roman—” you gasped, your voice breaking from the intensity.  

He chuckled, dark and amused, before pulling back just enough to meet your dazed, pleasure-drunk gaze. “From now on, every Friday night,” he murmured, rolling his hips slow and deep, making you whimper, “I’m gonna fuck you into my Bloodline.”  

A sharp cry left your lips as he picked up his pace again, pounding into you harder, making good on his promise.

With one last deep, punishing thrust, Roman buried himself to the hilt, his grip on your thighs tightening as a guttural groan ripped from his throat. Your body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure crashing over you in powerful, shuddering waves.  

“Oh my—Roman!” you gasped, your head falling back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure consumed you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop of his release as his breath came out in ragged pants against your ear.  

“Fuck—” he growled, his forehead pressing against yours as he rode out both of your highs, his body trembling slightly from the force of it. His hands slowly loosened their bruising grip on your thighs, fingers grazing over your heated skin as he took deep, steadying breaths.  

Your chest heaved against his, bodies still tangled together as the aftermath of your passion settled in the air. The only sounds in the room were the mingling of your unsteady breaths, the cooling sweat on your skin making you shiver against him.  

Roman smirked, his lips barely ghosting over yours. “You good, sweetheart?” His voice was thick with satisfaction, but there was something else there too—something possessive.  

You swallowed, still dazed, nodding weakly. “Yeah…” you breathed out, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.  

He chuckled lowly, his nose brushing against yours as he finally—slowly—slid out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. He kept a firm hold on your waist, ensuring you didn’t collapse the second your feet touched the ground.  

Your legs felt weak, unsteady, and Roman smirked knowingly. “That was cute,” he murmured, amusement lacing his voice as he held you up.  

You rolled your eyes, even as a small smile pulled at your lips. “Shut up,” you muttered breathlessly, swaying slightly as you leaned into his solid chest for balance.  

Roman reached for his discarded suit jacket and draped it over your shoulders, his touch surprisingly gentle as he smoothed the fabric down your arms. His fingers lingered at your waist before he pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up with a single finger.  

“You’re mine now,” he said, voice firm, leaving no room for argument. His dark eyes bore into yours, possessive and intense. “No backing out.”  

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. There was no denying it—you had just crossed a line that couldn’t be undone.  

A slow, knowing smirk spread across your lips. “Guess I’m in the Bloodline now, huh?”  

Roman chuckled, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before leaning in, his lips hovering over yours.  

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

[sevikaslapdog]

His wife

Summary: Its been almost ten years since everyone graduated, and they all decided to get back together and have a class reunion.

Warnings: fem reader, use of yn, izuku and reader have the cutest friendship, drinking

You and Katsuki met almost two years after he debuted as a pro hero, of course you knew who he was but that wasn’t why you fell in love with him.

Sure to the world he was snappy, slightly aggressive, but to you he was sweet, patient, and the most caring man in the world.

Now almost eight years later a ring was sitting on your left hand and he had your initials tattooed on his ring finger. Of course he’d rather wear a ring but his job prevented that so the only tattoo he’d ever get was your initials.

This past year your husband had been patrolling more than usual, wanting to work with Izuku every chance he could. Especially now that he had the new suit that Katsuki worked his ass off for.

You worked for Katsuki’s agency since he’d rather die than have you work for someone else, plus it gave him an excuse to see you more.

A couple weeks ago though he got a text from Izuku, talking about how their old class was having a get together for a ‘class reunion���. You remember how he scoffed as he retold the story to you. You smiled at him, nodding while you said “We should go! Plus i’ve been wanting to meet all your old friends!”

Who is Katsuki to say no to his wife?

Which is how he landed himself in this position, watching you hurriedly get ready even though his finished almost a hour ago. You were now finding the perfect jewelry pieces, he sighed as he got up from the couch and went to your shared bedroom.

“No one’s gonna be paying attention to your jewelry woman, we’re gonna be late and we still have to pick up Izuku.” You huffed, closing the clasp to your earring. Turning around to face him, “I’m done, do I look ok?”

His expression softened slightly, he could tell you were nervous. He walked towards your, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Ya look good, cmon now.” You smiled up at him, placing a soft kiss to his lips before going to grab your purse and phone. He was waiting for you at the door, you smiled at him apologetically since you realized just how much time you actually took.

Twenty minutes later you and Katsuki were parked outside Izuku’s apartment, his car recently broke down since in your husband’s words was ‘a piece of fucking shit.’ You smiled whenever you saw him exiting the building, unlocking the door’s so he could get in.

Although Katsuki would never admit it he was happy you got along with Izuku so well, you two were the most important people in his lives just in different ways. At first he was a bit pissed off years ago whenever you two started becoming friends but the more he matured the more he realized it was a blessing.

Finally the back door opened and Izuku slid into the backseat, closing the door behind him. You turned to face him as he sat in the middle seat, buckling himself up. “Do you think they’ll like me?” Izuku could only smile, looking at the rearview mirror and making eye contact with Katsuki.

He looked back at you with a smile, “Im sure they will yn, there’s really no need to worry. If you’d like I can help and introduce you to Ochako.” You smiled, nodding “Oh yes, I see her on tv sometimes she’s gorgeous.” He nod’s along agreeing with you.

The car is filled with chatter from you and Izuku mostly, Katsuki butting in from time to time as he drives the three of you to the club Momo rented out.

Almost thirty minutes later the car was finally in park, Katsuki turned off the car and turned to you. “Stop being so nervous, everyone will like you.” You’ve already met Kirishima, Denki, Jirou, and Mina. You nodded along, “Ok let’s go.” You quickly got out the car and slid your purse onto your shoulder and making sure you had your phone.

Katsuki smirked knowing you were trying to get out the car so you didn’t chicken out. He and Izuku got out the car and you all walked inside, Katsuki stopped you while Izuku made his way to some people you’ve seen on Tv before. “You sure you’ll be ok? If you’d want to leave we can go.” All you could was nod, turning your head to face him.

“Yea I’m sure, I think i’m gonna go over there with Izuku for a bit. Just to meet some people I don’t already know.” He glanced over to where Izuku was, seeing him with Shoto, Uraraka, and Iida. He hummed, giving your hand a squeeze before you both parted way.

You walked over to Izuku who was standing near the bar with people you recognized, you tapped his arm as he turned to you with a smile. He placed his hand on your shoulder and turned to the small group, “This is yn, kacchan’s wife.” You waved to them, seeing how Uraraka immediately smiled at you.

She immediately smiled, sticking her hand out for you to shake. “Oh my Izuku’s told me about you, i’m so happy to finally get to meet you.” You could already feel yourself coming out of your shell as you shook her hand, glancing over at Izuku with a grateful smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, I would hope its only good things he’s saying.”

She gently pulled her hand away just as someone else talked, you immediately recognized him as Shoto Todoroki. If you were being honest you used to be a big fan of his, always enjoying watching his fights just to see how he used his quirk. “It’s nice to meet you yn, its nice to meet the women who somehow put’s up with Bakugo.”

You could hear Izuku stifle a laugh as you laughed yourself nodding your head, “Its nice to meet you too.”

Soon you comfortably conversed with the group, though the whole time you could practically feel Katsuki’s eyes on you. You knew he just wanted you to feel comfortable, you excuses yourself from the group and walked over to where he was.

He was sitting in a large booth with Kirishima and Mina, and Jirou and Denki. Seeing you walking over he placed his drink down and slid over making room for you, you smiled at him as you sat down.

The group said different greeting’s to you before falling back into the conversation. Though Katsuki’s focus was on you, placing his arm on the back of the booth to rest behind you. “Uraraka was so sweet, and Shoto was honestly really funny.” Katsuki grumbled at the compliment you gave Todoroki. He was aware of your past fangirling for the man and he would always tease you for it.

“Honestly, Im really glad we came.” He smiled at that, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “Im glad you’re making more friends.” You smiled at him and moved closer towards him, his arm moved from the booth to over your shoulder’s. You both entered the conversation with the group.

As the night went on you had talked to most of the people in the room, besides a few. You and Uraraka had exchanged numbers with smiles on both of your faces as you two made plans. You ended up confessing to Todoroki about your past fan behavior for him, he laughed as you told him. He mentioned it to your husband later that night which caused him to get yelled at as you two laughed.

Finally you and him had just dropped off Izuku, you were driving since Katsuki had a few drinks. The car was quiet besides the air flowing throughout the car, Katsuki shifted around in his seat before speaking “Did you enjoy tonight?” Immediately you smiled again at the memories of the night “Yes I did, me and Uraraka exchanged numbers and we promised to meet up the next time she’s available.”

He stayed silent as he stared at you with a soft smile, he was happy you were making your own friends. He didn’t mind that all of your friends were his, but he was glad you were making your own. “I told you they’d like you.” You glanced over at him with a smile, finally pulling into your neighborhood.

“I guess you were right.” He hummed and the car fell silent again.

Once you two got home you and him got in the shower together, you helped him wash his hair like you do most nights and he helped you with yours. After you were both in pajamas, you and him crawled into bed with him on your chest.

home

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Strings

Summary: The reader's been assigned to watch over Dory Shaw when she runs into trouble. But when her big brother, Colter, shows up in town, things in the case are about to take a dramatic turn...

Pairing: Colter Shaw x reader

Word Count: 5,100ish

Warnings: language, serial killers, drugging, smidge of violence, innuendoes galore, not so implied smutty times

A/N: Welcome to my first ever Colter one shot! Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you want more Colter! 😊

________

“So that’s the brother that does the reward thing you told me about?” Dory hummed beside you at your hightop, smirking at you. “What?”

“Nothing. You’ve only been drooling over him the past hour.” She gave her brother a wave from where he was getting the three of you refills at the bar. You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Defensive pose. I must be totally wrong, hm?”

“So what if he’s hot? I wasn’t drooling.” She shuddered. “You have hot brothers, Dory. Live with it. It’s a shame how you turned out. Your poor parents.”

“Screw you,” she said, flipping you off with a smile. You only grinned, stealing one of the cold fries from the basket before you. “I thought you swore off men anyways.”

“I swore off boys. Douchebags that don’t want commitment. Men? Men, I’m okay with.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” she said, Colter wearing a pleasant smile as he returned with three bottles. 

“Ladies,” he said, setting one down in front of each of you before taking a seat. 

“So how long are you-” Dory groaned when he phone started to buzz. “Oh, come on. It’s fucking Hendricks.”

“Yikes,” you said, taking a sip as Colter frowned.

“Who’s Hendricks?” he asked, Dory answering and walking away to a quiet corner of the bar.

“The department chair. They’ve been having a problem with one of the professors and keep asking Dory to cover his night classes last minute,” you said. Colter frowned, keeping his thoughts to himself. Slowly you brought the lips of your ice cold bottle to your lips, taking a baby sip, Colter’s gaze on Dory’s agitated form. “What did you study in college?”

“I never went,” he said, Dory approaching again with her phone by her side. She gave you a look. She had to go. Colter picked up on it as she faced him, an apology in her eyes. He only softly returned a smile, hiding his disappointment well. “Go to work. I can stick around town a few days.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice so young sounding, a little girl’s spark in her eyes. 

“Of course, kiddo,” he said, handing her the black bag on the table belonging to her. “We’ll get dinner at your place tomorrow.”

“You’re serious? You’re not going to run off in the night?” He shook his head, hiding the flash of pain on his face. Dory only smiled, pecking a kiss on his temple. “Alright, I’ll text you later. Oh, and Y/N totally thinks you’re hot. Have fun!”

“Dorian!” you screeched at her as she happily scurried away, heading out the bar entrance. Your face felt hot as you turned back to Colter, he eyes suddenly narrowed. “Uh, she was just joking-���

“You have five seconds to explain who you are and why that man by the door followed her out. Five. Four,” he said, already getting to his feet. “Three-”

“Protective custody,” you grit out. Colter took two steps to be by your side, leaning down to your ear.

“How many are covering her?”

“Three at all times. One of us is always by her side. That call was a cover. She has to go into the agency for a debrief,” you said quietly. You felt his hot breath over the back of your neck, your skin prickling. “Back off, Shaw.”

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on, right now.” You growled, pushing out your seat and standing, forcing him to take a step back, if only so. 

“Not here.” You left without waiting for him, Colter right on your heels though. You stopped by your SUV in the parking lot, Colter crossing his arms. With a sigh, you put your hands on your hips. “You’re not going to let this go, are you.”

“The only reason I didn’t storm out after Dory is because I believe you. Now what is my kid sister involved in?” You shook your head, Colter tilting his own back. “I will not interfere but you need to tell me. Or else, I’ll go poking on my own and then I very well might end up interfering which you don’t want. Talk.”

“You would never risk putting her in danger so no, you won’t do anything. You are going to get in your truck, go sleep in your camper and tomorrow, hang out with your sister and me, her old friend from college that’s visiting until further notice. Got it?” you snapped. He looked you up and down, searching for a weapon maybe? He’d never find the small pistol in the back of your waistband though. “Shaw, I told you to go.”

“You need to be better at your job,” he said, reaching around his back and pulling our a small pistol. Your small pistol. Your hand shot to your back, now feeling very flat. 

“How-”

“I distracted you in the bar.” He flipped the gun around, holding the grip out to you. “I’m sure you know all about our family. If someone is after her, I can find them. You know I can.”

“You think you can do a better job than the FBI?” you scoffed, taking your weapon back. He shrugged. It was maybe a sliver of cocky but you knew he had the record to back it up. 

“I think if you don’t find this guy soon, the case will go cold and the FBI will not waste so many agents time. You’ve probably got what, a team of seven people covering her?”

“Four now,” you mumbled, his eyes flashing wide for a brief moment. “Maybe a few agents have been pulled the past few days but we wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself.”

“How long before that team drops to two? To one? Before they force her into witness protection or this bastard finds her first?” You tucked your gun away, Colter tilting his head to the side. “You know what’s going to happen? You’re going to be the last agent left and either you both get killed, you do and she goes into witness protection or she does and you have to live with the fact you failed her. You seem capable of defending her but if this person is as dangerous as you make it seem, you are going to need all the help you can get.”

“Go to your camper,” you said, opening the drivers door, Colter making a face. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Cozy,” you said, stepping into the airstream forty minutes later. You’d changed into a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie from college. Colter pouted from the kitchenette area, nodding to the table. You tucked yourself in along with your backpack, tugging out your laptop and files before he set a beer down in front of you. “I ordered us a pizza. Should be here soon. You’re paying.”

“Of course I am,” he said, taking the seat across, spinning your folders around and opening one as you got your computer booted up. He barely glanced at the thing before you felt his heated stare. You met it quickly, Colter pointing a finger to a picture on the page. “A suspected serial killer? Seriously?”

“She saw him drug a woman at a bar. Gave a good description to locals, it flagged in our system. Two days later, someone broke into her house. Luckily for your sister, she was covering a lecture that night and wasn’t home.” He ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes. “I know. She’s his next target. Good news is we know what he looks like and have a name. Bad news-”

“Twelve years and he hasn’t been caught?” said Colter. He grabbed his beer, tightening his grip around it but not drinking. Yet. He steadied himself, breathing deeply. “When do you lose sight of him normally?”

“He’s not shy. After a kill, he sticks around the area for a day or so. We get footage of him at coffee shops, stores. We’ll track him to bus stations and then we lose him.”

“He doesn’t take the bus?” You shook your head. Colter pursed his lips, flipping through the pages of your files. “You think he changes appearance in station bathrooms and sneaks out with the crowd?”

“That is the agency’s working theory,” you said, Colter giving you his attention. You were no stranger to working under scrutiny but his intense stare made you feel like you were back in the academy on your first day.

“You disagree with that.” You nodded, turning your computer around, his eyes darting around the screen, pondering the data. “Huh. You think he uses the station as a cover and heads into the sewer system through maintenance.”

“I have…been told this is impossible and there’s no way he has done this in eleven separate cities and no one has been the wiser.” You took the computer back, Colter flipping up a page. “It doesn’t matter. We need-”

“It does and I agree with you. He always goes into the station wearing gray trousers, black boots and a black hoodie. That could easily be covering a maintenance jumpsuit that he uses to gain access and then escape without watchful eyes.”

“But it tells us nothing about where he might be now,” you said. Colter smirked, finally taking a sip of his beer. “I know what you’re thinking but countless stores sell basic jumpsuits.”

“You’re right. But if I were him, I wouldn’t want to get behind the wheel of a car smelling like crap while I get out of town. Now this guy is tall, right? He’s not going to want to walk more than a few miles at most hunched over in a sewer. Let me see your computer.” 

You slid it over, Colter pulling up a map of the city, dropping a pin on the bus station. He typed something and then his phone was ringing, Colter muttering something to someone named Bobby before he hung up. A few seconds passed before he smiled, turning it back to you, a giant red circle on the screen.

“People would notice if a guy came in stinking to a hotel or motel. My best bet, he has a hideaway somewhere in that perimeter. My guy is looking into foreclosures, rentals, abandoned properties. We’ll hear back soon.”

“You could be wrong. You’re making a pretty big assumption based on the fact the guy wouldn’t want to sit in his own stench.” Colter shrugged, holding up his hands.

“I might be. Or I might be right. What’s the harm in looking?” You sat back, crossing your arms, glancing out his wide back window to the darkness beyond.

“I’m meant to be Dory’s handler. I sleep in her house, I am by her side almost twenty four seven. I cannot spend time kicking down doors and I won’t be able to get my boss to approve more field agents to go off on a wild goose chase.” Colter cocked his head, licking his lips. “What?”

“You already figured all this shit out about the perimeter on your own,” he said, leaning forward. You sighed, Colter shaking his head. “They turned you down when you brought it up.”

“Like I said, I’ve been told it’s impossible.” You grabbed your beer, picking at the paper label. “I was the junior lead on the case. I was demoted to protective services when I presented my idea. I was told it was childish and clearly I was not ready for difficult case work. If I go off on my own and they find out, I’m fired.”

“Then we won’t let them find out,” he said. “I have an idea.”

“Well that was mortifying,” you said twenty minutes later after hanging up the phone, Colter smirking from the drivers seat. “Oh, shut up. It was your shitty idea.”

“They seem to have bought it,” he said, still smiling as you glared. “You do this thing with your nose when you get embarrassed.”

You flipped him off, Colter chuckling before heading down the road out of the parking lot and towards the perimeter circle form the bus station. 

“I can’t believe I asked for a night off for a fake date with you,” you mumbled, pressing your fingers to your temple and rubbing.

“Well you were drooling over me at the bar and your little agent friend and Dory seeing it certainly helped.” You smacked his arm, Colter feigning pain. 

“First off, I did not drool. Second, you are objectively attractive and I allowed to appreciate good looking men. Third, you are lucky I’m overworked and my boss was happy I’m taking some time off to recharge.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard your partner say they wished you a happy trip to pound town tonight.” You growled audibly, Colter laughing to himself. 

“One more word and I will arrest you, Shaw,” you said. He held up his hands, that stupid smile still on his face. “Don’t be cocky.”

“Interesting choice of words.” 

“Someone kill me now,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest, your vest heavy underneath your hoodie.

“Seriously though, thank you for doing this with me. It’s a lot safer having backup,” he said. You nodded, knowing fully well that if you did find your killer, tonight was most likely your last night as an agent.

“Yeah well…I’m only letting you do this because Dory told us all about how you were raised. You can handle yourself if it comes down to it.” The air was quiet, the jovialness slipping away with a single breath.

“I’m sorry you were laughed out of the room,” he said, turning down a quiet street. “We might not be right but it’s worth investigating.”

“They were looking for any excuse to move me down the ladder after my boss’ son started in the office. He took my old job the little shit,” you said. “Straight out of the academy, never even seen a dead body and he’s working a damn serial killer case.”

“I see you hold no resentment,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Colter clearing his throat. “For what it’s worth, I’d rather have the woman that gives more of a shit about my sister than her job than have the nepo baby ridin’ shotgun.”

“So you know I’ll probably lose my job tonight,” you said, Colter humming. “I won’t if we don’t find the guy.”

“We both know odds are good we’ll find him,” he said, sparing you a look when you stopped a red. He had a look of…softness, a sad smile there. “Thank you for protecting her.”

“Well, at least I won’t have to look at nepo baby’s stupid face anymore. He looks like a smug little prick,” you said. 

“Is he good looking?”

“God no. Ugly as sin like his dad.” Colter chuckled, a quiet one leaving your lips.

“Looks like you got an upgrade then,” he said. “Even if you do drool.”

“Just shut up and drive, Shaw.”

Three hours and twenty eight minutes later, you were staring at the ceiling of a rental house, blood dripping down from your temple from where you’d been pistol whipped in the face. Your body told you to make sound, move, call out for Colter who was at the front of the house. But your lungs weren’t working, the breath knocked out of you.

A dark shadow leered down at you, his eyes narrowed.

“Little miss roommate,” he said, squatting down, pushing the gun that’d fallen from your hands away. He cocked his head, resting a hand over your throat, stopping you from getting the air you desperately needed. He squeezed harder, pushing up your hoodie with the other one, tsking when he saw your vest. “Come on, sweetie. Look at me. Get a real good look at me, Y/N.”

He let you get a rush of air in your lungs as your eyes drifted over. The man looked slightly off somehow as he reached behind his neck. There was a sound of rubber as a synthetic mask was ripped off, a sweaty face appearing underneath that made your eyes go wide. He spun the mask around before setting it down beside him, fixing his hair as he applied more pressure again.

“I know you have questions,” he tutted, patting your face as you squeezed his wrist. “Come on, really?”

 Something sharp pricked your shoulder, a syringe pulled back as you felt your limbs get heavy. He backed off with choking you at least when all you could do was manage a limp grasp of him. 

“That’s better,” he said. “So I-”

He went down the ground hard, Colter standing over his prone form, eyes shooting to you. “He stabbed you with a sedative because this sick fuck likes his victims to be awake. You should be okay.”

“Nepo baby,” you mumbled, Colter tilting his head like he heard you wrong. “Him. Nepo baby.”

Colter got him restrained and tied to a nearby radiator before helping you sit up against the wall. He was shoving a cup of coffee in your hand by the time your attacker was waking up, your body heavy but a few sips of the scalding hot liquid had you feeling a tiny bit better.

“Good morning,” said Colter, his voice way, way darker than you thought it could go. Franklin was fully awake now and staring at you. “I interrupted your monologue before. How rude of me. Continue.”

“I ain’t saying shit-” he said, cutting himself off when Colter pressed the cold barrel of his gun right in Franklin’s crotch. 

“It probably won’t kill you but you’re going to think of me every time you take a piss the rest of your life. So, I’d take a second and really think about the next words out of your mouth because you’ve tried to kill my sister and you’ve tried to kill my friend over there and I am more than happy to pull this trigger if you don’t tell us everything. Now.”

Franklin slammed his head back against the wall, muttering curses to himself.

“His name is Franklin,” you said, forcing yourself to chug back the coffee.

“Franklin,” sang song Colter, his hand grasping Franklin’s chin. “You have three seconds before I start shooting off body parts. Three. Two-”

“I did it! All of it. My dad found out and…”

“Fuck. He protected you,” you spit out. 

“You figured out where I hid so he made you a laughing stock, got you demoted for being crazy. We knew we had to get rid of you so we…set up a failed job. I picked the blonde girl cause I thought she was pretty-”

Colter pressed his gun down hard, Franklin making a guttural sound in response.

“Keep talking,” Colter snarled. Franklin caught his breath, closing his eyes.

“He put you on protective detail and I was going to lay low until he pulled the whole detail except for you and the blonde girl. I was going to make it look like I got the jump on you before I played with the blonde…and you…before I…” he trailed off.

“Play with the blonde? With Y/N?” growled Colter. “That’s my baby sister. That’s my friend.”

“Walk away, Colter,” you said, forcing yourself to your feet. You swiped the gun from his hand and sat down in a nearby chair, aimed at Franklin. Colter didn’t move though, his body like solid steel. “Colter.”

He forced himself away, breathing hard and putting his back to Franklin. You imagined you looked like shit. Your head was pounding and you felt like going to sleep and running a marathon at the same time.

“I want you to call my old partner, Denny Piplin. Tell him everything. He has friends in high places and will make sure a trusted agent is watching Dory when shit goes down in that office.” You handed him your phone, Colter’s eyes darting around your face. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he said, taking the phone. After a moment, his jacket was pressed against your head, his strong hand holding it there as he flipped through your phone contacts. “You need a hospital.”

“I’ll go when this bastard is behind bars,” you said, lifting your chin at Franklin. “And you over there? You don’t make a sound, move a muscle, or else I give him back the gun and let him do whatever the hell he wants with it.”

You swore Franklin didn’t move a millimeter for the next hour while you waited for agents to arrive. An ambulance showed up as they escorted him out to the back of a car, driven away to the field office most likely. You got lucky and your cut looked worse than it was thankfully.

“Hey,” said Colter, taking a seat next to you on the front steps of the house. 

“Hey,” you said, holding an icepack to your head. He shifted and you felt his fingers brush yours, holding the pack in place for you so you could lower you arm. You sleepily smiled at him, Colter returning it. “Were you really going to shoot his balls and dick off?”

“Would you think less of me if the answer was yes?” You shook your head, resting it against his shoulder. “How long until the sedative wears off?”

“A few hours they think. How’s Dory?”

“Fine. She’s back home. Some agents are going to spend the night with her. You old partner picked them himself.”

“Good. Denny’s a good guy,” you said, shivering when a gust of wind caught you. Colter shrugged out of his only slightly bloody jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. “You were laying it on kind of thick in there with the ‘you hurt my friend’ schtick, you know.”

“It wasn’t a schtick. He was going to do vile things to you too. That pissed me off.” 

“Still, you didn’t have to…” you stopped talking when he sat you upright, his eyes darting to your lips.

“There you go, doing that thing with your nose again,” he said, cupping your cheek. “You deserve to protected too, even if you are a badass, got it?”

You nodded, Colter smiling. “Good girl.”

“You think just because you saved me, you get to kiss me?”

“No, I think I get to kiss you because you think I’m objectively attractive.” 

“Shut up, Shaw,” you said, brushing your lips against his as you heard a squeal nearby that made you both flinch.

“Aha! I so knew you two were into each other!” said Dory, suddenly standing there with Denny trailing behind. “You guys were so eye fucking each other at the bar.”

“Dorian,” groaned Colter as Denny shook his head and came over, giving you a big hug.

“She’s right, he is cute,” he chuckled, earning a slap on the back from you. “What’d I tell you when I retired? Stay out of trouble. What’d you go and do?”

“It wasn’t my fault I’m smart,” you said, a wave of fatigue rolling over you. Colter placed a hand on your back when you wobbled. 

“We need to get her somewhere she can sleep this off,” he said.

“Come on kid, the guest room is all made up.” You were about to protest that he should stay with Dory when Denny cut you off. “I’m sure Colter can handle it. You can see them in the morning.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, both men helping you stand and over to Denny’s truck. They shared a word in private after getting you inside, your eyes drifting shut now that you were in the nice warm cabin.

“Y/N,” said Denny with the thud of a car door. You hummed, not bothering to even look at him. “You need anything?”

“I wouldn’t say no to food truck tacos before I pass out,” you said. 

“That’s my old partner,” he chuckled. “Let’s get you some dinner.”

Two Days Later

“Hey,” you said when Colter pulled up outside Denny’s place in his truck. Between countless meetings at the office, you hadn’t been able to catch up with him and Dory yet. You didn’t miss the way your stomach did a small flutter at seeing him again.

“Y/N,” he said with a subtle smile, walking around the truck, stopping where you were washing your dirt bike at the end of the driveway. “You trail ride?”

“Denny got me into it when I first got paired up with him years ago. He let’s me keep my gear in his garage. I think I might take a trip, hit some trails I always wanted to.” Colter nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Dory told you I quit?”

“Yeah. Not that I blame you,” he said. You wiped off the frame with a towel, Colter picking up the spare nearby and getting the wheel spokes for you. “I was thinking of heading over towards Park City.”

“For a job?” you asked. 

“Play,” he said, standing and handing you the towel. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets, cocking his head and doing that little shrug again. “I’m pretty decent at mountain biking myself you know.”

“Oh, are you?” you said, crossing your arms.

“He’s flirting, moron,” said Denny as he passed you on the way to the mailbox. You shot him your best bitch face, Colter stifling a laugh as Denny returned with a package and some mail in hand. “She’d love to go.”

“Denny! He could be a serial killer!” Denny ignored you, looking over Colter. 

“She’s never been good with boys you have to understand. Always ends up with duds,” he said, Colter nodding with a smirk. “Little bit of a workaholic this one. Probably a good fit for you though. Take her on one of those reward jobs when you two are done with the mountains.”

“Angela!” you shouted, Denny’s wife popping her head up where she worked in the flowerbed by the front of your house.

“Oh he has a point, honey. You are awful with men.” 

“I should have let Franklin kill me,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. Denny dodged your attempt at smacking his arm, laughing as he ran back towards the house. Your face was hot when you found Colter’s cheeky smile. “Let me guess. I’m doing the thing with my nose again.”

“So what if you are?” he teased, looking down at your bike, nodding his head. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty awful with women too.”

“I imagine it’s hard to do the relationship thing with a job like yours.” 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, pursing his lips. “We could just…go have some fun for a week. No strings.”

“Is that what you want? No strings?” you asked. For the first time, you noticed a small flush to his cheekbones, his eyes intense as they met yours. “So you can get flustered. Good to know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, hiding his shyness behind a cocky smile. 

“Answer the question, Shaw.” He looked up and then over your head.

“I wouldn’t…mind strings…with the right person if that makes sense.” 

“You two can take down a serial killer but you can’t ask each other out? No wonder your generation is screwed,” said Denny, going past again with a dirty car mat in hand. 

“You, quiet,” you said, pointing at him when he flipped you off. “You, Shaw. Park City. Whoever gets down the mountain fastest pays for dinner. Then you take me a reward job and by the end of all that, I think we’ll know how we want things to proceed, got it?”

“Yes ma'am.”

Two Weeks Later

“What are you giggling at?” you asked Colter. He chuckled underneath you in the airstream bed, his arm tightening over your waist. “Are you a giggly cuddler? Is this what I’m discovering?”

“I’m just thinking Dory’s never going to let us live this down when we tell her,” he said, pushing down the sheet on your back to trace up and down your exposed spine.

“I know,” you sighed. “How will she ever live with the fact you’re slow as fuck down a mountain?”

He gently smacked your ass, pointing a finger when you grinned. “You cheated.”

“You’re a sore loser,” you said, his hand brushing the hair out of your face, thumbing over your mostly healed mark on your temple. Your chin rested on his chest, Colter continuing to stroke over the faded scar. “If you’re thinking of telling Dory about us, does that mean you want me to stay?”

“I like the strings,” he said quietly, his warm hands traveling up and down the sides of your body. “This is what it’s like. A job, downtime, a job, downtime. S’all I know.”

“I get that,” you said, lowering your eyes to his chest. “It’s easy to get wrapped up in the job and forget to have a life.”

“Why’d you really quit? They would have promoted you back up I’m sure,” he said.

“They broke my trust. The only person that had my back was you.” He tipped his head forward, kissing your forehead. “I want to stay.”

“Well that’s good considering I wasn’t letting you go.” You smiled when he tucked your hair behind your ear. “So. Ladies choice. We take another job we don’t yet have or we head over to Washington, hit some trails, maybe I show you some rock climbing basics. Or we stay here in bed until further notice.”

“Such hard choices,” you said, Colter grinning and shifting his leg so you felt him poking you in the thigh. You sat upright, narrowing your eyes. “If you make a hard joke, I swear-”

“You’ll what?” he teased, flipping you around, body hovering over yours. You frowned up at him, Colter kissing the tip of your nose. “So you don’t want the bed option?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Shaw.” He raised his eyebrows, a dark smirk on his lips that had your hand flying to his mouth. “Do not say it you filthy gutter mind. Nothing in my mouth. Got it?”

“You make it so easy though,” he chuckled, burrowing his face in your neck, kissing under your jaw. You purred, Colter humming. “That’s my girl.”

“Bed. Washington. Job. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you like the strings too,” he mumbled trailing his hand down between your bodies. “I can’t blame you. You do drool over me.”

“Why don’t you shut that mouth of yours, Shaw and put it to better use?” you said, slipping your hands to his hips. 

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

____________

A/N: Let me know what you thought and if you'd like to see more Colter x reader stuff in the future!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Maestro’s is a nice place. Your dress feels even louder in the high-end restaurant. And you feel even more tired as the dim lighting softens the edges of your vision. Mr. Hansen looms there too, ushering you after the hostess as she leads you to your reserved booth. 

A man awaits you. He doesn’t stand or offer Lloyd a handshake. He simply finishes his martini and shoves the empty glass at the hostess, keeping the olive to chew on. 

“’Bout time,” he mutters at Hansen around the garnish. 

“Nice to see you too, Hugh,” Hansen nudges you ahead of him. You slide onto the curved bench silently. The man finally looks up from his glowing phone. He scoffs in your direction. “Who’s the grade school teacher?” 

“Assistant,” Hansen drops down and glides in close to you. “She’ll keep minutes.” 

“Really? Alright,” he snorts. 

“Well, you want an investment so... it’s business, isn’t it?” 

“Thought we were getting drinks and steak,” the other man he called Hugh sits back casually. 

“Missie, Ransom, Ransom, Missie. There, all introduced,” Hansen picks up the liquor menu and pets his mustache. You notice how he toys particular with the shining silver strand. 

“Nice to meet you, uh, Ransom,” you intone. 

“Yeah, sure,” he sniffs and rolls his eyes. You’re an intruder, if not an imposter. Not just at this table but in this restaurant. You should be with Peter getting your sandwich with extra pickles. 

The men are silent. You look between them as the tension rise. A waitress reappears with a fresh martini and puts it before Ransom. Hansen sits up and puts down the small menu.  

“Scotch, top shelf for me, and a vodka tonic for the lady. She’s watching those hips,” he orders. You don’t put in that you’d rather not drink. You doubt he’ll notice if you touch it or not. Besides, it’s a courtesy you don’t expect of him. 

“You going to the reunion?” Ransom asks over his martini. 

“Nah, stuff’s sad. Bunch of washed out legacies and stringy armed pledges.” Hansen retorts. 

“Mr. Big Stuff’s too cool for school,” Ransom chortles. “Imagine this, honey,” he gestures to you with his stemmed glass. “Big boss man used to be the frat’s treasurer. Penny pincher. Kept a fucking stranglehold over every penny. Wouldn’t even put out for cups for beer pong--” 

“Not all of have grandaddy’s trust fund to fall back on--” 

“Bro, don’t even. Your mom is loaded.” 

“Where do you think I got my good sense from?” Hansen counters. The server returns with your drinks and sets them down, offering a food menu. The men wave those away. Your stomach growls. 

Hansen slides the sparkling vodka in front of you. He sips his own dark liquor and you let yours sit on ice. He huffs and flicks the brim of your glass, “drink.” 

“Sir,” you lift the glass and take a tiny sip. 

“Don’t be ungrateful,” he pushes on the bottom until you gulp. You nearly gag on the bitterness of the tonic and alcohol. 

“So what’s going on here?” Ransom leans his elbows on the table. 

“Business, talk about your damn books,” Hansen demands with the snap of his fingers. 

“New imprint. So long as I can get the backers,” Ransom shrugs. “Grandfather says I have to put work in. Mom says the same.” 

“Oh, and how is the insatiable Mrs. Thrombey?” 

“Hey,” Ransom warns. 

Hansen cackles, “now that’s a woman. Tall, domineering—you know, she still got it--” 

“Would you quit?” 

“I’m having fun,” Hansen chuckles and drains his glass. He takes out his phone and Ransom sighs, nursing his own drink in agitation. 

You squirm in the roiling air. You wet your lips as you wait for them to continue. Neither of them do. 

“That’s a nice ring...” you comment, just to ease the silence. 

Ransom twists the mother of pearl band then fidgets with his hands, “thank, er...” 

“So you went to school together?” You prompt, afraid of another simmering tension. 

“Pfft, no. Do I look old?” Ransom sneers. “I only heard the stories. After. L-Dog made quite the name for himself.” 

“Hugh,” Hansen puts his phone screen down. 

“What? I’m making conversation since you can’t be bothered,” he shrugs and leans forward, focusing on you. “What’s it like working for him? He a tight ass? I mean, he’s got you here past six. I’m thinking so.” 

“She’s here to take notes,” Hansen insists. “It’s her job.” 

“Suuuuure,” Ransom drags out the word. “Still the same as you ever were, huh.” 

“Shut up.” 

“This guy, oh, everyone knew what he liked. Really chubby ch--” 

Hansen slaps the table and it jolts as he kicks Ransom underneath, “you want me to back your nepotistic venture or what?” 

Ransom laughs and reaches to rubs his shin, “you know, this could’ve been an email.” 

“Could’ve,” Hansen signals for the server. “But I prefer to deal with you with a dash of good scotch.” He taps your glass again, “finish that.” 

The waitress reappears and Hansen orders another round for the table. You deflate just a little. You hoped you might get out early enough to meet Peter, or at least call him and explain. You’re not sure your frantic apology via text made sense. 

“You’re too nice for him,” Ransom says. “And it’s me saying so.” 

“Get on with it,” Hansen sneers. 

“Fine. Erotic thrillers. Granddad’s scandalised but I told him, times are changing. People like horny with their fear.” 

You stay quiet. You’re rather content to do so. Let them chatter. You take out your phone and take notes; trying to translate his crass explanation into business speak. Hansen gets his second drink and yawns. 

The more you transcribe there blustering chirping, the more you feel that needling in your head. You shouldn’t be here. Neither of them need you here. You know it’s punishment; because you saw your boss at his weakest, but when did you ever step a toe out of line with Hansen. You’ve ever been loyal. You are sitting at that table after all. 

“Hips, if you’re not gonna drink, don’t let it go to waste,” Hansen snatches your untouched refill and slurps it down. 

Concern tickles behind your ears. He’s drinking a lot and fast. The longer you’re here, the more he knocks back, you’re assured that you won’t be catching up with Peter tonight.  

You quickly flip out of your notes app and check your conversation. You deleted Hansen’s message but not before it was read. Even so, Peter’s response is ‘understood, we’ll do another night’. You reply to him quickly 

‘Sorry again. Boss has important stuff. Maybe this weekend?’ 

You switch back to your notes as Hansen slaps his chest and stifle a belch. Ransom sucks on the gin soaked olive and shakes his head again. Looks like you’re going to be the adult at the table. 

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

Routine V

Mini Series

Wanda Maximoff x fem wife!reader

Summary: Routines can get tiring quickly, especially when you’re the only one working towards keeping them.

A/n: We meet again friends. I am very happy to be updating this fic once more. Also happy to inform that I have found a direction in which to take it!!! I hope you enjoy reading it.

Word count: 1400 approx

She was at a crossroads, there was nothing that she could do to stop you from leaving. She hadn’t stopped pacing the room since you left. That's when she saw it… Her saving grace. Maybe if she did this one thing she could at least open the door if not maybe just unlock it, something. At this point that was definitely better than nothing. Your passport and what looked like important papers were left sitting on the kitchen counter. You had left in a furious haze, something was meant to be left behind. You just didn’t think it would be your passport and work visa. That was the one thing that you thought you had in lock, the one thing that you couldn't forget… And you forgot it. Truthfully you knew that something was missing the moment that you stepped into the car with Kate, but you chalked it up to the stress that Wanda had caused.   

There was a time that anything that remotely felt like a fight was a no go. You never wanted to fight with Wanda, nothing about arguing with her seemed pleasant. In the beginning it was obvious she was scared and all of it was new. You danced around obvious issues the two of you had. One issue was a rather big one being Vision. It was strange their connection. It was something you knew would have easily gone the other way had you not been in the picture. They understood each other; you felt like the odd man out in your own relationship with her. It wasn’t until you exploded one day that the issue was addressed. Thinking back Wanda should have seen this coming. It almost ended the relationship before it really even began. She was tempted to call you, she really was. But she’d just crossed a very big boundary. Instead she texted Kate.

Her text was read almost immediately the text bubble kept appearing but nothing was sent. Wanda instead sent another message. ‘I’ll meet you at the gate, lose Y/n for a minute and I’ll give you her passport.’ She only received a thumbs up and she was on her way. It was high time Wanda started taking action. She wasn’t going to fail you now. 

You were lying. You had no idea where you got the confidence from but it was a complete lie. You loved her so much it hurt. She didn’t read your mind that time and it hurt that she believed you. Tears welled in your eyes, this day wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to leave peacefully, and now you had no idea what you were doing. She shook you. Wanda came into your life and turned it upside down and now she’s done it again. It was rough. Kate had been fidgety for the past twenty minutes. “Are you okay?” You managed to get the words out. She stilled wide eyed. “Uhm shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You hummed. “Probably… I’m just tired of the same thing over and over again.” You sighed. “There are so many things that I wanted to say. But she was right in front of me and the words disappeared.” Kate nodded, her eyes still fixed on the road. 

“Do you think… that uhm you’ll get back together?” She asked the obvious question. It only made your shoulders deflate more. Not because she asked, “It’s not up to me.” but because of how pitiful the answer was. And it was entirely up to her. You hadn't even been able to bring yourself to draft the papers. The fear that she’d actually sign them still managed to keep you up at night. What if she did, what then? “My heart… it aches constantly. Like something was ripped from me.” Kate cleared her throat. “You’re leaving Y/n… You're going abroad for god knows how long.” You nodded. “How else can I show her what she’s doing to me? Years Kate I’ve put up with it for years.” Kate nodded. “I did not suffer in silence, I let her know at every turn how she was compromising us.” Your words were laced with anger and conviction. And so quickly the sadness gave way to raw anger.  

Wanda felt she should have thought this entire situation out more. Here she was in her car on her way to the airport, filled with hundreds if not thousands of people. And the most daunting part being that you’re unaware. Her mind was already starting to hold her hostage. She made the treck mostly on autopilot. Then there was the whole getting through security, nothing her powers couldn’t handle. Only she somehow couldn’t. She had not felt this lack of control since ultron, she was tripping where she had learned repeatedly not to. It was overwhelming navigating through the masses of people trying to get to their flights, homes, families. Everyone's thoughts traversed constantly. Eventually and not without struggle she had found Kate, near a coffee shop.

“Finally! I thought you’d make this hard for me.” Kate’s words washed right through her. The only thing she could hear now was an angry ring, mocking her. She shook her head softly trying to dissipate the sound. Then she stilled, she could sense it. Her powers out of pure reflex sought you out. And another pang of sadness ran through her. She’d never been able to sense your anger. A slap in the face a testament as to how unwelcome she truly was. A tug at her arm brought her back. She was clutching your passport in her hand. The folder already in Kate’s possession. Kate sighed. “Are you okay?” She relented and finally asked the question. That seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in. She let go of the Passaport like it burned her. Kate noticed her distress and asked again. “My powers… are acting up, I'll be fine.” Kate nodded, not fully convinced. 

Kate had decided she’d throw Wanda a life line. She did not think someone could make a change so drastically in a matter of hours. This Wanda that was standing in front of her was not the same one she witnessed yell indignantly at you. This Wanda looked defeated, vulnerable. “She’s still waiting for you…” Kate said. Taking the woman in, and for a moment she wasn’t sure Wanda had heard her. Then tears started rolling down her face. “I don’t think she is…” the words came out tersely and clipped. “She's angry, she has every right to be. That doesn’t change the fact that she’s waiting… so give her time.” Kate sighed, taking a step back. “Fight for her…” She turned on her heel and walked away. Wanda seconds later managed to do the same. Her resolve slowly cemented.

Kate made her way back just as you started looking for her. She looks slightly flushed. Two coffees in hand, a folder tucked in between her arm and torso. Your eyes widened at the sight. “I didn’t even realize I was missing that!” You exclaimed. Taking a cup out of her hand, and the folder at the same time. “Kate, you're a lifesaver.” She nodded, taking a long sip of her drink. Then silence followed, you could have sworn you felt something. It made your heart race. You remembered the familiar feeling. A slight fuzz just out of reach in your mind. You couldn’t help but look around. Could it be, or was it just her lingering in your mind. Then once again Kate brought you back into the present. “Here your boarding group is about to be called.” Kate pulled you up from your seat making toward the line now forming.

Right as your ticket was scanned. She pulled you to the side slightly. “Promise you’re coming back.” You managed a small smile. “I will, I don’t think your mother will keep me away forever.” You joked. Keeping an eye on the people boarding. Kate nodded trying to reassure herself. “You forgot your passport… she brought them here. That's why I was gone for a minute.” Your heart started racing. “I didn’t want to keep it from you.” Then before you could even respond an airline worker was ushering through into the boarding tunnel. The last thing Kate managed to say was for you to call her when you landed. 

A/n: Please leave a like if you liked it!!! Late because I completely forgot to schedule. :(

Tag list: @fxckmiup @username23345 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 

[arlana-likes-to-write]

HIII! I have a request if you’d be up to write for it. What about a plus size female reader that’s super soft like a teacher or social worker or something dating yelena. reader can be kinda air headed but is very sweet and loving. and yelena is still hard, strict, and disciplined hard ass yelena. everyone doesn’t understand how they work but they balance each other. maybe reader had a hard day at work and yelena helps her to unwind by being there for her and loving on her. maybe takes her on. short weekend trip to see the barton family or something! i’m not sure if you do smut but smut is always good if you’re comfortable writing it!

A Heart of Gold

Note: I realized that this kind of got off topic of the original request. However, I do have a part 2 in mind if you guys are interested. I just think Yelena deserves a life outside of fighting and I want to give her that lol.

Warning: mention of past abuse, mention of the red room, cannon typical injuries, angst with a happy ending, implied sexual content, fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Sweetheart, do you-”

“On the side table. Next to the flowers.” Right. You walked over to the table and placed your keys in your back pocket. Your girlfriend brought home a bouquet, and you got distracted by them. That was why your keys weren’t in the right spot.

“Alright. Thank you. I’m late, so I’ll see you at dinner.” You rushed for the door.

“I think you are forgetting something, detka,” the sound of her footsteps from the couch as she walked over to you. The Russian pace was slow, giving you time to think. The laptop and case files were at your office. Your backpack was packed with your water bottle, breakfast, and other office supplies. Your phone was in your hand, and the keys were in your back pocket. What were you missing?

Your answer came when Yelena pushed your body against the wooden door and molded her lips against yours. Her sudden display of strength took you by surprise, but you moaned against her lips. After all these months together, her ability to manhandle you always left you weak at the knees. Although you were comfortable with your size, years and years of taunting by your peers left scars. She constantly reminded you she could handle your size with her strength.

When she pulled away from you, she had a smirk on her face, no doubt pleased with your blown-out look. “You are going to be late, dorogoy,” you huffed and straightened out your shirt, which was wrinkled with her body pressed against yours.

“Whose fault is that?” You asked. The blonde shrugged. “Text me what you want for dinner, and I’ll pick it up.” You opened the door to leave. With your back turned Yelena smacked your ass. At this point, you weren’t surprised.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“You are late,” Amelia said. Her eyes never left her computer screen as she handed you a few files. You took them with a smile and sat down at your desk. You weren’t that late, only 5 minutes.

“I had an extra long breakfast,” you teased and began to set up your desk. A plushie hit you on the side of the head. It was a carbon copy of your girlfriend’s dog that spent her time in Russia with her parents. The team kept a mount of stuffed animals in their office. It helped kids find peace in a new and stressful environment. Well, this time, your coworker, Johnathan, used it as a weapon.

“Stop being gross!” You quickly threw it back at him, but you missed your target. Also, it wasn’t the first time implied sexual comments were made before the morning meeting. Most of them were from Johnathan.

“Children, let’s focus on the meeting.” Amelia sighed. Johnathan huffed, and you stuck your tongue out at him, but you brought in your childlike behavior. Your work was necessary.

As a social worker, it was your job to be a voice in particular demanding situations, such as domestic conflicts, divorce, or substance abuse. You witnessed a lot of darkness, but you also saw a lot of good. You helped new parents adopt kids, reunite families, and help kids find the strength to stand up to their abusers.

This job brought you into Yelena’s path. It wasn’t the most conventional way of meeting. She broke into your apartment to get information about a young girl you expected was being abused. It turned out Sasha was a Black Widow, sold to her ‘parents’ by the Red Room. You helped the blonde get Sasha away from them, and once the case was over, you expected never to see the Russian again. But she stayed and carved a spot in your life. It seemed impossible to let her go. You held on tight, and through a lot of trial and error, she became yours.

After the meeting to discuss the upcoming cases, your phone buzzed again. You knew it was a text from Yelena.

I know what I want for dinner.

You

Thankfully, your coworkers were focused on their tasks for the day. They missed how your body tensed up, and you slammed your phone face down on your thigh. Then another text came through. Slowly, you looked at your phone.

But could you pick up Chinese? I have been craving it.

You sent a simple thumbs up and locked your phone. She was going to be the death of you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Yelena was pissed. On paper, it was a simple check-in. Melina found a Widow still under Dreykov’s control that slipped under their radar. She wanted to gauge her target from a distance, but now she was covered in cuts and bruises. Still, she exposed the Widow to the red dust she had kept on hand. It was all because her sister sent her a text inviting her to a party at the Avenger’s compound. She insisted that you come with her. Her older sister had met you once.

Natasha arrived at Yelena’s apartment without warning. You were in the kitchen, making a box of mac and cheese. Even though you were a distaste in the kitchen, you perfected the simple meal when you discovered it was her favorite. It was an awkward first meeting. Since then, Yelena had hesitated to introduce you to the rest of the Avengers.

She was not ashamed of you, but she liked the little bubble of peace you created. In the safety of the apartment, Yelena could just be Yelena—not a Black Widow, a gun to hire, or someone the Avengers wanted on their team. She was just Lena. She liked that.

When the door opened, she glanced up. You were struggling to juggle your work bag and the bag of Chinese you picked up. The smell made Yelena’s stomach growl. Usually, she would be up on her feet to help you. However, she needed to allow the serum to heal the sounds. The last thing she wanted was to get blood on your floor. Because of this, she was able to observe you. You were so clumsy. It was adorable. This slight characteristic made it easy for Yelena to fall for you because you were different.

You weren’t a trained spy or agent. You were normal - a superhero in your own right. But Yelena found safety in how her ridged edges molded with your soft ones.

Finally, your eyes landed on hers. You gasped and dropped your work bag on the floor. Thankfully, you had the foresight to place the food on the counter before you rushed over. “What happened?” You sat next to her while grabbing the opened first aid kit. Yelena waved you off.

“A simple misunderstanding,” Yelena shrunk under your tense gaze. Sometimes, the blonde forgot how serious you could be when injuries were involved. You gave no warning when you pressed an alcohol pad to the worst wound on her stomach. Yelena let out a low hiss, and she watched your eyes soften.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I don’t like coming home to see my girlfriend bleeding out.” Well, that was a little dramatic, but Yelena couldn’t stop the way her heart fluttered. She was your girlfriend. She had someone to come home to. Your heart was too big for this cruel world. Still, Yelena was a little shit.

“Now, that would not be a cool way to die,” she managed to make you smile. “The serum will take care of it, plus the help from my sexy nurse,” she pinched your thigh. You rolled your eyes and cleaned up the used medical supplies. Yelena hated that you got up to grab the food, but she loved the view. You swayed your hips on purpose. Yelena groaned and closed her eyes. She opened them when you came back with the food. “How was work?”

“Amelia gave me shit for being late.” Yelena shrugged. She wasn’t going to apologize for loving on you a little extra. “We are making headway on the Samantha case.” The blonde almost broke the chopsticks she was using. The case was heartbreaking. It was a clear case of child abuse by the girl’s biological father and stepmother. You were working on behalf of the girl’s mother to get her rights back and custody of the girl. However, her father was wealthy and had the money to run a smear campaign. First, he painted the mom as a drug addict. Then, he went after her sexuality. It was pissing Yelena off. You had to stop her multiple times for going all Black Widow on the guy.

“Her mother has a new girlfriend. I met her today,” you took a break to wipe your mouth and sip water. “She’s a cop.” Yelena’s eyebrows went to her hairline. “A beat cop for the NYPD, but it will help the mother’s credibility in court,” you waved your hand. “Tell me what happened.” You placed your food on the coffee table and turned to look at Yelena. Your arm was bent on the back of the couch. Yelena knew you weren’t going to let this go. You were stubborn, which is why you were good at your job. For 6 months, Yelena was learning to break down her walls.

Sighing, she placed her food next to yours. “I was distracted,” you smiled at her. “Natalia called me before I went to check on a Widow. The Widow got the jump on me.” Still, your smile remained, but you began to run your fingers through her hair. The sensation helped Yelena relax further on the couch.

“What did your sister want?” Yelena wouldn’t have answered. Her eyes were fluttering close. Then your hand stuffed, and the blonde huffed.

“She invited us to a party at the compound,” Once she answered, you continued your movement. “I told her I would think about it.” You hummed.

“Do you want to go?” Yelena shrugged. It wasn’t a difficult question, but she wasn’t sure of the answer. “Oh!” You jumped up from the couch suddenly. “I forgot I got you something,” Yelena watched you run over to your bag, slipping on the wood floor. The blonde chuckled. Although she believed you forgot about the surprise, you always knew when Yelena was done talking about something. Especially when it involved her family. You returned with something behind your bag.

“Detka, you did not have to get me something,” you shrugged. Your love language was gift-giving—something Yelena was still getting used to.

“Close your eyes and hold your hands,” Yelena huffed but did what she was told. You placed the foreign object in her hand. It was light, soft, and made from the same material as your half-finished blanket. “Open.” In her hands was a tiny crocheted ninja. A hook was on it so she could put it in a bag. Yelena raised her eyebrows at you. “Because you are my little ninja.” You were very proud of that. Yelena chuckled and placed her gift next to her. You weren’t expecting Yelena to pull you down onto her lap. You yelped and moved your hands to keep your weight off of her. “You are hurt.”

“They are already healed. Now,” Yelena grabbed your hips. “Sit down.” She forced you down until you sat flushed on top of her. Your weight was comforting against her as she sat up to kiss your cheek and then down the column on your neck. “Koroleva (a queen),” she mumbled against your skin. She loved the shiver that went down your spine. “Made to sit on a throne.”

Your hands tangled in her hair and forced her lips against yours. Yelena was never religious. How could she be with everything endured? How was there a God if the Red Room existed? When you kissed her, held onto her so tightly that you were afraid you’d lose her, Yelena swore she saw God. You were her religion, and she would worship you every chance. You lifted yourself, pushed closer to Yelena, and deepened the kiss. And Gods, Yelena loved a woman who knew what she wanted.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Your arm around Yelena’s waist and held her tightly against your chest. The steady beating of your heart helped Yelena’s spiraling mind. “I think I want to go,” she knew you were up.

“Okay,” you mumbled sleepily and kissed the back of her head. “Whatever you want, baby.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You were nervous. You were trying to hide it from Yelena because she seemed on edge the entire drive upstate. On the one hand, you could count the number of times you met the Avengers - those visits were mostly of Kate. The archer was the closest thing Yelena had to a friend outside the network of Widows. You liked her, though you liked Lucky more.

So you spent the drive filling the silence with your obnoxious signing. You even got Yelena to sing along, too. Her hand never left your thigh. It was like she needed a physical reminder that you were still there. “You know,” you broke the silence. “My mom would have loved you.” You felt your hand tense up, but you played with the rings on her finger. It helped her relax slightly.

It was rare that you spoke about your mother. She passed away when you were going through your master’s program. It was a sudden heart attack. Your father and younger brother rushed her to the hospital, but the doctors couldn’t do anything. It still haunted you that you weren’t there to say goodbye. “Yeah?” Yelena questioned. “Do you think so?” You nodded.

“Yeah. All she wanted was for me to be happy, and you do that,” a small smile appeared. She brought your hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. Yelena had yet to meet your family because they lived in Arizona.

“You make me happy too.” Her hand went back to your thigh. You knew it was huge for her to be vulnerable, so you kept quiet about it.

“Oh! Do you think there will be mac and cheese?” Yelena chuckled.

“I told Natalia I would not attend without mac and cheese.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“Sestra,” Natasha was outside to greet you and Yelena. “I thought you were ignoring us.” You heard Yelena huff and placed your hand on her lower back. Her body relaxed slightly.

“It is hard to ignore your big head.” The redhead rolled her eyes but pulled the blonde into a quick hug. At first, you worried about how her body tensed up at the sudden contact. Soon, she relaxed, which made you smile. The relationship between the two Black Widows was rocky.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Natasha turned her attention to you. “I much more appropriate clothing.” You shrugged but felt your body heat up. You were standing in Yelena’s kitchen in only a shirt.

“Not my best moment, but you should have knocked,” Natasha laughed.

“Yes, I should have. Come on,” the redhead threw her arm around her sister. “The party is just getting started.

Luckily, you spotted Kate right away, and she dragged you away from the Black Widow duo and into the bar. You weren’t the biggest drinker, but you knew you would need a drink to get through the night. Kate told you it was a celebration. The Avengers made a massive bust on a HYDRA facility trying to recreate the super soldier serum.

Yelena introduced you to the team once your drink was in your hand. You met Wanda, Vision, Tony, Sam, and Steve. Your girlfriend told you that Maria, Rhodey, and Bucky would be joining after they were cleared from medical. They were all super friendly, asked about your profession, and seemed to care about Yelena. So you were confused about why Yelena so desperately wanted to put up a wall between you and them. You knew she had her reasons for everything she did, but you could not figure this one out.

Somehow, America pressured you into a game of darts with Kate, Wanda, and Vision. Although the android mostly watched the game. You asked Yelena if she wanted to join, but she waved you off. She was in a group with her sister, Maria, and Tony. So you kissed her and followed the others to the game. You felt her eyes on your back.

When it wasn’t your turn, your gaze went to Yelena. It seemed impossible not to search for her. She was always on your mind, and you were drawn to her. For the past 6 months, you thought you knew her well. You knew when to push her to talk and back up when the conversation got heavy. You could make her laugh and smile, but tonight was different. Tonight was a version of Yelena you had not seen in a long time. Guarded.

She was wearing a mask. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure if you’d seen her smile the entire time you were at the compound. “You’re up,” Kate said. You almost missed the handoff of the darts because you were watching the blonde. “Come on. She’s fine. Stop looking at her with your big old heart eyes.” You scuffed and took the darts.

You missed your first throw. But Kate was wrong.

You missed your second. Something was wrong with Yelena.

You hit the bullseye on your third and final throw. “No shit!” America cheered. “See, I told you she would be good at this.” The celebration was short-lived when you looked at Yelena. The blonde slammed her drink down and stormed off. You hated that you were right.

“Excuse me,” you said to the group and went to follow your girlfriend—until Natasha blocked your path. “Move, " you told the older Black Widow.

“I would just give her time to cool off.” You blinked at the Avenger. There was no need to mask the confusion on your face. It was like she spoke a different language.

“What happened?” You questioned instead.

“I didn’t say anything.” You shook your head.

“Maybe that’s the problem, Natasha.” You pushed past her and followed the blonde outside. You saw her silhouette walking towards the dock that rested on a pound. You had half a mind to run after her, but you couldn’t risk falling, so you slowed your pace and allowed Yelena time to get her thoughts together.

Once you reached the dock, her body tensed up as she leaned against the wooden rails. Carefully, you walked over to her and stood behind her. It took a moment for her body to relax into you. You weren’t going to force her to talk about it. Sometimes, she needed a reminder that you were on her side. You rested your chin on her shoulder.

“Why are you dating me?” Come again? The question stumped you.

“What did you just ask me?” Yelena huffed and walked away from you. You allowed her to leave. “Yelena, what did they say to you?” She put her hands on her hips and paced. She mumbled something that you missed. “Tell me.”

“Stark doesn’t understand how someone like you is with someone like me,” you opened and closed your mouth, almost like a fish. “And he is right.”

“No,” you said firmly. “Stark is an idiot.” Yelena chuckled lightly, but she frowned.

“But everyone said it tonight,” her voice sounded so small. Gods, you wanted to punch all of those stupid Avengers. “So it must be true.”

It was taking you back to your high school days. So many people told you you were unlovable because of your size, that no one would want to handle all of your ‘assets, ' and that you weren’t beautiful because you didn’t look like other girls; however, this wasn’t about you. Slowly, you closed the distance.

“I am going to touch you, okay?” You wanted to give her an out. But she gave you a small nod; you almost missed it. You put your hands on her forearms, moving them up and down. It always amazed you how different your body types were. Finally, you moved your hands to either side of her neck.

“Listen to me, please,” you pleaded. “You make me so incredibly happy. You make me feel beautiful and seen. I am with you because I do not want to be with anyone else.” Yelena placed her hands on your wrist.

“I have done bad things.”

“You were a pawn in someone’s game,” you told her. You reminded her every single day that what she went through in the Red Room was not her fault. “No matter your past, I will always love you.” Yelena made a small noise that came from the back of her throat. You looked at her, confused.

“Did you mean to say that?” You reran the conversation in your head, and your eyes widened.

“Well, not exactly how I wanted to tell you, but that doesn’t make it less true,” Finally, Yelena smiled and allowed you to pull you into a hug. “You don’t have to say it back,” you reminded her. “Tell me when you are ready.” You felt her nod against you. “Oh!” Yelena pulled back to look at you. “I hit a bullseye! On my last throw!” It took a moment for her to realize what you were talking about.

“I am proud of you, Detka. " She kissed you softly. “Can we leave?” You smiled.

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You were shocked that Yelena had you drive to the nearby motel. You left after a quick goodbye to Natasha and Kate. Yelena was oddly quiet during the ride as she looked out the window. You booked a room for the night and stood in the bathroom brushing your teeth. “They asked me to join the Avengers again,” Yelena said from the bed. You finished before you went out here. She was slowly brushing her hair.

There was a lot you wanted to say. You were furious with the group of heroes, but Yelena needed you to stay calm. “Are you?” You asked instead. The blonde shrugged.

“Feels like I have no choice,” you frowned and moved closer to the bed. You took the brush from her and took over, brushing her hair into two sections to braid it. Another thing you wanted to learn when you started dating Yelena was how to braid her hair. She was patient when she taught you.

“I saw they had room service, and I thought we deserved ice cream,” you saw Yelena’s body shake with laughter. “What flavor do you want?”

“Whatever you want.” It was the simple answer.

“Not what I asked, babe. " You kissed her shoulder and started to braid one section. “What do you want? What is your choice?” She understood your double meaning and couldn’t give an answer right away. But you gave her time, which allowed you to finish one section of hair.

“I do not want to join the Avengers,” her voice was soft. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, sweetheart,” you shook your head even though she couldn’t see it. “Your sense of worth isn’t tied to a group you belong to. You could stop fighting right now, and you would still be good,” she tensed up at the word, “You have a heart of gold, Yelena Belova. No matter what you think,” you finished the second braid. Yelena turned to look at you. Her lips pressed against yours softly.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“You’re welcome. Now,” you stood up. “I was serious about the ice cream. What flavor do you want?” Yelena chuckled.

“Chocolate” A perfect choice.

_

Like I said in the beginning, I do have a part of two of this little story so let me know if you guys want to see more.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Smile For The Camera, Baby 📸 (Geto x Plus-Sized!F!Reader 18+ One Shot) 

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Plus-Sized!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you decide to volunteer to model for your friend’s lingerie line photoshoot when the original model gets sick and meet the very sexy photographer who isn’t letting you leave until you realize how gorgeous you are. 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS DNI); Highkey Flirting; Inappropriate Touching; Sexual Tension; Alcohol Consumption; Pet Names: Mama, Baby; Sugar (for Geto); MDom!Geto x fsub!Reader; Strangers to Lovers; Tongue Kissing; Striptease; Mutual Oral; 69ing; Facesitting; Praise; Edge Play; Lewd Pictures; No PIV Sex; Facial; Exhibitionism; Aftercare Cuddles 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: I wrote this about a year ago, but it ended up being flagged (ugggggggh!!!) lol so I wanted to revise & repost it for Geto's birthday!!! This is how I cope with my baby being d*ad & gone. I also know for a fact Geto loves women of all shapes n sizes! I hope y'all enjoy! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

************

“I-I don’t know about this, Maki.” 

About two weeks ago, you were initially okay with taking semi-naked and possible naked photos for your friend’s lingerie shoot since her model got ill. It wasn’t on short notice since the date for the shoot was during the weekend and you were getting paid for your time.

Plus, spending a hot afternoon trying on cute lingerie and sipping on Moscato seemed like a great afternoon, indeed. 

But now that you’re standing here among the lights, luxurious furniture, and the rack of lingerie with your sundress draped across your plump body, all of that easiness is gone and not even a glass of Moscato can fix it.

Especially when you just found out a few minutes when you arrived here to the studio that Maki wouldn’t be taking the photos but her friend, who is a man you’ve never met before, would be. 

“Why not?” Maki whines disapprovingly. She is standing by one of the lights, trying to get it right so it illuminates your skin and brings out the soft glow of your makeup. She gave you time to do your hair and makeup when you got here since the walk from your home to the studio was a hot one. Even though your apartment is only five blocks away, the hot weather has a vengeance, and you showed up coated in sweat, glad you took a shower and applied extra layers of spray deodorant to your inner thighs earlier before leaving your crib. 

Though you know look and smell good with your pink, gloss lips, glittery eyeshadow, and rose-scented perfume, neither does much to curb your anxiety. You fidget with the hem of your dress, unable to look Maki in the eye. “I’m just not comfortable with this guy takin’ photos of me,” you mutter. 

“Y/N, I told you,” Maki sighs, “Geto is a professional photographer. He’s taken many shots for my business before! Did you look at his portfolio? I sent it to you two weeks ago.” 

You timidly nod because you did. Though you have no clue what Geto looks like, you will admit that he has immense talent. While you sat on your laptop with your Chinese takeout two weeks ago, you scrolled through his photos that ranged from nature for National Geographic Magazine to photos of the prettiest women for Maki’s lingerie line. The way he managed to capture each thing, whether an animal or a human, and bring out the best in them was incredible. 

But your anxiousness isn’t just the fact that he was a man that happened to be taking your photos today since the original photographer had to go out of town for her sick mother. It’s the fact that each woman Geto photographed for Maki’s line don’t look like you. They’re much smaller with perfectly flat stomachs and hour-shaped figures; perky breasts and thighs that have not an inch of cellulite. 

You’re unlike any of them. You have stomach; triple D titties that you have to pay an arm and a leg for when it comes to bras; an ass and thighs dimpled with cellulite; pudge that makes your arms bigger than you’d like them to be. Your size is the reason you tend to stay away from bikinis and crop tops in the summer; opting instead for sundresses that reach your ankles and even jackets that hide your shape. Your shape is why you don't date as much, too afraid of rejection despite your pretty face and cute smile. 

You’re used to men ghosting you or standing you up after getting a look at you below your chin. It’s humiliating to be in your body and to be treated in such a way. What angers you most is that you take care of yourself–you eat your fruits and veggies; you drink water; you exercise–and yet you’re still criticized by society for the body you’re forced to live in. 

That’s why when Maki asked you to model for her new summer lingerie line, you were more than happy to participate, thinking it’d be a great way to boost your confidence. Plus, you get to keep the lingerie you like. But now, all you want to do is hide away from the blinding lights above, feeling too hot and exposed beneath them. 

Maki puts a hand on her slim hip, fixing you with a stare. “He’s not gonna hit on you if that’s what you’re worried about,” she sighs. “Geto doesn’t really date since he’s always working. And we don’t have time for you to change your mind, girl! I need these photos in by next week!” She turns to her sister. “Mai, back me up here!” 

Mai, lounging on the couch for the shoot with her legs crossed, looks up from her book with a bored expression. “I’m not in this,” she deadpans before looking back down and flipping a page. Maki growls in frustration at her sister’s refusal to help before turning back to you. “Are you sure this is just about the fact that a guy, who is a professional photographer, is taking your photos today?” She cocks her head to the side, still giving you that fixed stare. 

You flush in your sundress. She knows exactly what’s going on and wants you to say it. 

“The girls he shoots for don’t…look like me,” you carefully confess. “I’m much bigger and I’m afraid that–“ 

“Okay, stop.” Maki walks up to you and puts her hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at her. “First of all, shut up. You’re fucking beautiful, no matter what shape you are, and I specifically picked you because you know how to work a camera and I want this new line to be inclusive to all sizes.” You flush at her compliment. “Second of all, Geto is going to take these pictures regardless of your size because it’s a fucking job, Y/N! He doesn’t care how you look!” 

She pauses, reiterating, “Well, he does, but only in his photos. Your body is your body. Plus, he is fully aware that the model today is a plus-sized woman and he still said yes.” 

“What’s the big deal?” Mai asks, shocking the both of you. She is looking up from her book and at you from under her black bang. “It’s not the end of the world that you’re fat, Y/N. You’re actin’ like fat women exist.” 

“Mai, come on!” Maki scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You couldn’t have used a better word? Maybe plump or chunky?” Mai shrugs, flipping another page in her book. “Maki, they all mean the same thing,” you giggle. “Fat isn’t a slur.” 

And it isn’t. Despite what you’ve been taught and shown by society, 'fat' isn’t negative, bad, or ugly; it is exactly what you are. You know you aren’t negative or bad and you sure as hell aren’t ugly just because of your extra pounds. And you know that this photoshoot can show you that.

“Mai is right…you both are.” You squeeze Maki’s hands still on your shoulders and nod at the little table where a chilled bucket of Moscato and glasses sit. “Maybe I just need a glass of Moscato.” 

Maki squeals excitedly, wrapping her arms around you to give you a hug. “Comin’ right up, girly!” She races over to the bottle to pour you a glass, but as she does, she becomes distracted by the sound of pounding footsteps. “Oh, and look who’s here! Right on time too, but then again, he’s always punctual.” She grins happily, giving you a wink. 

You look toward the open door where the studio’s staircase lies–the ones you had to walk up and nearly pull a muscle because the elevator is broken. There, you find a pair of big ass boots attached to an even bigger, taller man. 

You realize that you’ve never seen Geto’s photo before, so it takes you a moment to register that you’re looking at him in the flesh. To say he is hot is an understatement. He has to be about 6’0 with a large build. His muscles push and flex under his black tee that is soaked in sweat and his jeans are tight on his thick, muscled legs and slim waist.

His long, black hair is pulled back into a high bun that accentuates the sharp lines of his face, especially his cheekbones and jaw. Dark ink cascades up and down his big biceps and arms, stopping at his hands where several rings adorn his fingers. 

Geto comes into the room, appearing like a giant with how big he is. He stands much taller than you, Maki, and Mai combined. He could probably break you in half. “Please tell me you’ve got some water up here,” he huffs, lugging his backpack over his shoulders. His handsome, reddened face is glinting in sweat and are his thick neck and the collar to his tight tee. 

Maki points to the table at the back where drinks and snacks are set up. “Right on the table over there. Just put your stuff down over there, too.”

Geto nods and walks farther into the room. As he does, his eyes meet yours from across the room, rendering you speechless and suddenly in need of air. His eyes remind you of two purple amethysts–beautiful yet almost hard to look at. His gaze is intense and fixed as if he sees every single part of you under your dress. 

The smell is fortunately broken when Geto moves to the snack table and turns his back to you, allowing you to get a look at his ass in them jeans. “Close your mouth, Y/N,” Mai snickers, suddenly beside you. “You’ll catch flies.”

You flush in embarrassment, feeling like a perv. “Shut up,” you mumble. Mai just snickers, knowing damn well you’re whipped. 

Once Geto finishes setting up his equipment from his backpack, including a camera, Maki brings him over to introduce you by his arm. “Geto, allow me to introduce the woman of the hour and my best friend, Y/N.” She motions over your body, making you feel even more exposed. “Y/N, this is Geto Suguru. We call him ‘sugar’ for short.” 

Geto rolls his eyes, taking his arm out of Maki’s grasp. “You didn’t have to mention that.” His violet eyes meet yours, pinning you to your spot. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” And his voice! The deep timbre of it makes your pussy tremble. 

He sticks his hand out for yours. Tentatively, you take it, ignoring how big, calloused, and warm his hand is. “Y-You too,” you stammer. You give him a smile in an attempt to not seem awkward. “Um, I like your photos. You really have a way with your camera.” 

He doesn’t smile but you catch the corner of his lip twitching upward at your compliment. “So I’ve been told,” he replies, and you have to resist the urge to close your eyes at the sound of voice. You want to hear it all the time, in your ear. 

Realizing your hand is still in his, you release your hold and place your hands behind your back, feeling like the horniest perv alive. You catch Maki subtly smirking at Mai. “Mai, let’s give them time to get acquainted,” she giggles. “Help me organize the rest of the lingerie, will ya? Y/N, feel free to pick which one you wanna do first!” 

Before you can protest or beg for them to stay, they’re already walking away from the shooting area for another table covered in lingerie pieces. Though they’re a few feet away, you feel like now it’s only you and Geto in the room. You stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, not saying anything. The silence is thick with tension despite Maki and Mai whispering among themselves. 

“U-Um!” you loudly stammer, catching Geto’s attention. You walk over to the rack of lingerie near you and pick out a bright fuchsia bra and panty set. “Is this set okay to start with? I figured I’d do one with color for the summertime.” Geto’s eyes flick to the set before setting back on your face. “That’s fine with me. We do want you want.” 

“Cool!” you squeak, wincing at the volume of your voice and the way you’re acting. “I-I’m gonna go change now. I won’t be long.” Before Geto can say anything more, you take a glass of Moscato and hurry off to the bathroom to change with your set. Once you’re behind the four walls, you can finally breathe and settle yourself (and your body) down. 

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” you huff to yourself in the mirror. But you know exactly what’s wrong: that fine ass piece of man is the problem. He makes your body react in a way it never has before with any man. Your breathing is labored and your heart hammers like you just ran a marathon. Your head feels dizzy. Your pussy is throbbing and possibly soaked from the scent of Geto’s cologne wafting in the air. 

You know realistically that you can't go back out like this if you don’t want to jump Geto’s bones. So after downing your glass and splashing some cool water on your neck, you change into your set along with some gold heels to make the color of the lingerie pop. After fixing your hair and applying a slick of gloss on your lips, you put on your silk robe and slowly walk back outside for the shoot. 

Geto is setting up the camera on a stand while Maki and Mai stand around, sipping their glasses. 

“I’m finished,” you timidly announce. “Is it okay?” All three heads turn to you and you feel hot with embarrassment under their gazes. “Is it okay?” Maki guffaws. “Girl, you look like you need to be wined, dined, and given six orgasms! Doesn’t she, sugar?” 

You have no idea why she asks Geto, but you’re even more confused at the silent and intense stare the man gives you. His eyes roam over your body, drinking in the way the bra cups hold in your plump breasts, your thick legs shine with coconut oil, and your jiggly stomach is adorned in lace from the waistband of your thong.

You don’t know if he likes what he sees, but it makes you feel uncomfortable either way. The way he makes you feel makes you feel especially uncomfortable. You have to squeeze your thighs together in an effort to lessen the throbbing you feel between them. 

Geto clears his throat and adverts his eyes. “I’m gonna go set up my laptop,” he mutters before storming off to his backpack. Maki turns to you with a knowing smirk. “He agrees.” 

“Stop it,” you groan, closing your robe to shield your body. “You’re gonna embarrass him and me. It’s not easy for me to be in this weird-ass position.” Maki rolls her eyes behind her spectacles. “Oh, come on! He knows he likes what he sees. Did you notice the “fuck me” eyes he gave you when he saw you in that little sundress?” 

You think back to Geto’s intense stare your way as he walked into the room and shiver. “I think you’re just tipsy, Maki.” Maki gapes at you, offended. “I am not!” she scoffs. “I only had two glasses!” Mai bumps her hip with her sister’s, giggling. “You know damn well you can’t handle your alcohol, sis.” 

Before Maki can jump down her throat though, Geto comes back with his laptop and a jump drive. “I’m all set up now,” he announces. Maki squeals loudly, nearly taking your eardrum out. “Great!” she cheers. “I’ll set up the music and let you guys do your thing. We’ll be right over here making sure everything goes well.” 

After a few minutes, the shoot is under way while the sisters stand off to the side, watching and giggling among themselves. Your playlist specifically made for this photoshoot is playing from her Alexa orb and you have another glass of Moscato in your hand. You can already feel the first glass affecting you, making you feel lighter. Geto stands behind the camera, fiddling with the buttons. “Let’s start with you standing with the backdrop.” He tilts his chin towards the blush pink backdrop. 

You nod and slowly walk over in your heels, feeling like Geto might be watching your ass despite the silk robe covering it. You don’t turn around to look at him when you finally, though hesitantly, disrobe and reveal every part of yourself to him and the camera. When you turn around, he is already staring at you, a small smile on his lips.

“Why you look so tense?” he chuckles. “You nervous?” You huff with a shy laugh, your body feeling hot and shaky. “Does it show?” 

“A little, yeah,” he replies, snapping a quick photo as a tester. “Just relax and feel free to drink your glass…actually, keep it in your hand with some of the photos. It adds to the aesthetic with the lingerie.” You nod and keep your glass in your hand as you strike your first pose, one hand on your hip and your eyes set dead at the camera. 

The camera light flashes, nearly blinding you. Geto hums approvingly. “Perfect,” he says, his deep voice caressing you. “Stay right there…tilt your chin up a bit.” He bends down once more to snap a picture as you do as he orders, tilting your chin up slightly and mustering the sexiest expression you can possibly do. 

It starts to become easier and less awkward the longer you stand there, posing from the front. 

After a few pictures, Geto peers up at you from the camera. “Turn around for me,” he huskily orders. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the way your pussy excitingly clenches at him giving you orders. Slowly, you turn around, exposing your ass in the cheeky thong that makes it look extra plump and juicy. 

“Look at me over your shoulder,” Geto orders. You do so, peering at him over your shoulder, and he snaps a picture. “Perfect,” he chuckles, a gorgeous, white-toothed smile adorning his pink lips. “You’re a natural at this. You sure this is your first time?” 

“Thanks,” you giggle, flushing at the compliment, “and yes. I’m just a volunteer since Maki’s original model got sick.” You put your glass down and pose without it, putting your arms behind your head. Geto snaps a pic. “Is that all to why you decided to do this?” he curiously asks. "To help out your friend?” 

You shake your head, smiling into the camera tense. “Guess it’d be fun. Plus, I thought it might boost up my confidence since–“ 

“Shit!” Maki shouts, groaning in frustration at the end. Geto immediately stops his work, alerted. “What is it?” he demands, already storming over to them.

You stand there, afraid to move in your heels and possibly break your ankle. Maki sighs, irritation all over her face. “I totally forgot we had a meeting scheduled with the Macy’s team today for a partnership. I have to go.” 

“And I have to drive her since her car is still in the shop,” Mai says as Maki begins to rush to gather her things. Mai turns to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, Y/N.” You look at the sisters, realization hitting you like a train. “So…you’re both leaving?” you anxiously ask. “Will you be back before the shoot ends?” 

Maki checks her watch as she shoves her tote bag onto her shoulder. “We’ll see, but most of the time, those partnership meetings last forever. But don’t worry; we’ll call to make sure everything goes smoothly and you have plenty of drinks and snacks.” She walks over to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

She leaves a ring of gloss on your cheek and anxiety twirling in your gut at her departure. “But–“ 

“We’ve gotta run,” she quickly says before you can protest. “Love you, see you later, bye!” She hurries over to the door with Mai in tow, giving Geto a wink as she does. “Thanks again, Geto! Expect your deposit by next week.” And then, just like that, they’re gone. And only you and Geto are occupying the room. 

“I guess it’s just us then,” he awkwardly announces, walking back over to his camera. You slowly nod, adverting your eyes from his to stare at the door. “Yeah…” You desperately want the sisters to come waltzing back in and announce that the meeting was cancelled, but you know that is but a fantasy. You’re forced to stand there in this damn silence with this hot ass man, semi-naked. Could things get any worse? 

As if sensing your discomfort, Geto clears his throat, gaining your attention. He stands by the camera stand, his tatted arms crossed over his broad, hard chest. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I can tell you’re uncomfortable and I would be too if I was in your position.”

He nods at your body, making your body flush with heat. “I get it: strange guy with a camera; you’re semi-naked. It’s like the plot to a horror movie.”

You crack a smile at his dark humor, giggling softly. “Well, when you say it like that…” You fiddle with the lace on your thong’s waistband. Geto continues to stare at you, making you feel like he has X-ray vision. “I don’t mean to come off like I’m scared,” you softly explain. "It’s just–“ 

“Don’t explain yourself to me,” he interacts, sounding firm. “Today is about you more than it is about me. I want these photos to please you too, so I want you feelin’ uncomfortable and at ease more than anything. If you say no, I’ll take care of Maki, maybe tell her somethin’ came up.” 

You blink at him, taken aback by his words. “You’d…do that for me?” you ask in disbelief.

“‘Course. I’m not an asshole, and plus, you’re her friend. I’d rather her be pissed at me than you.” He shrugs as if it is no big deal, and maybe it’s not, but to you it gives you a sense of how sweet and considerate he is. If only there was someone out there like that for you. 

You shake your head determinately, picking up your wine glass. “No, let’s do it. I’m here, you’re here, and we both want a check.” You take a long sip of your wine, letting the alcohol loosen you up further. “I’m ready,” you announce with a bright smile at the camera. “Let’s take some photos.” 

Geto looks surprised at your cooperation at first, but then smiles. “I like the attitude,” he chuckles. “And the smile. Keep that there for a few pics.”

He bends down to snap a few as a light, feathery feeling overtakes your body and your confidence shoots to the roof. “Sure,” you giggle, already feeling the affects of the wine hit you…or maybe that’s just the smell and closeness of Geto. 

An hour goes by of photos you take in different lingerie by the backdrop. The lingerie you pick is bright in color, making your skin complexion pop, and makes you feel like the sexiest woman in the world.

Geto’s looks shot your way also help. His gaze is so bold and intense behind the camera, though you’re sure it’s because he’s a photographer and is analyzing how he can get you to pose or something. The rest of the photoshoot is a piece of make and less awkward than earlier. You dance a little to the music from your playlist and giggle, oblivious to the adoring gazes Geto shoots your way behind the camera lens. 

When Beyoncé’s “Cuff It” begins to play, you are on your third glass of Moscato and Geto is on his first. After getting your photos taken in an aqua-blue lingerie set, he takes his camera off the stand. “We’re finished?” you ask curiously. 

“Just the first half with the backdrop,” he replies, nudging his head over to his laptop. “Lemme show you what I’ve got so far.” You unstrap your heels and follow him barefoot over to his laptop. He sits down in the wheeled chair and gets to hooking his camera up. In an instant, dozens of your headshots and photos fill his screen, each one different than the last. 

But neither one makes you feel any different than how you do staring at them: Sexy. Confident. Like the baddest bitch on the block. The lighting is perfect on your makeup and skin, and each color of your lingerie seems to pop. “Wow, Suguru!” you happily gasp. “These look amazing! You made me look so…so…beautiful.” 

Geto chuckles as he scrolls through each photo. “Well, I didn’t make you look beautiful, but the camera enhancements definitely help. Maki will love these, I’m sure.” 

“Of course, she will!” you giggle. “Photography is definitely you’re calling. Why’d you decide to make that your career anyway?” 

He shrugs, still lazily scrolling through your photos. “Photography is art,” he explains, “and I’ve always loved art. To me, there’s more to taking a photo than just snapping a camera. There are so many aspects and techniques that go into making one picture perfect, such as capturing beauty. You need to learn how to preserve it…worship it…”

He pauses, his hand on the touch pad, and slowly turns his head to meet yours. “Care for it,” he murmurs. 

Your breath catches in your throat suddenly, realizing how close he is. You’re overwhelmed with his cologne and the smell of his shampoo–something spicy, like cinnamon, and clean, like rain. His violet eyes trail down to your lips, just for a second, before moving back to capture yours in an intense, heated stare that makes you want to strip off your lingerie and let him touch every single part of you. 

‘Girl, what the hell?’ you think, shocked at your naughty thoughts. It must be the wine. You clear your throat and take a step back away from Geto. “Um…we should get back to takin’ photos,” you softly mutter. “You know…so Maki won’t kill us. I’ll go change into the next set.” 

You quickly head toward the rack of lingerie and choose a random one before hurrying to the bathroom, abruptly ending whatever was about to transpire.

‘Which was nothing,’ you firmly think. ‘Geto is your photographer. A professional. And even if something were to happen, it’d be a mess.’ You keep trying to reason with your horny side as you change into the next set. 

When you come back out in a lime green teddy bodysuit with a push-up bra and thong, Geto is standing by the lion-claw couch with his camera. “Let’s take some with you on the couch, then we’ll do some on the bed and then on the balcony. Just sit down with your legs crossed for now.” 

You nod and take a seat on the soft couch cushions with your thick legs crossed over each other. You plant your hands on your knee and make a lustful, sensual face at the camera. “Perfect,” he compliments as the camera shutter flashes for a couple pics. “Now lie on your side with your hand on your hip. Use your other hand to prop up your head.” 

You slowly get into position, staring at the camera eye. “You want me to make love to the camera?” you giggle. 

Geto chortles, the sound of his deep laugher making your clit jump. “You’ve been doin’ that since you got in front of the camera,” he replies, but you don't think he’s joking about that. He takes a few shots of you in his desired position before moving on. “Now take your hand and hook it over the couch.” 

You do so, still staring at the camera and hoping you look just as good as you did in the first set. The song has changed to Beyoncé’s “Virgo’s Groove”–a song that somehow makes you believe that you’re the sexiest version of yourself right now.

As you pose, you become aware that the atmosphere has changed to something more tense. Geto must realize it too because he suddenly rises from behind his camera and stares you down. “You’re so damn fine,” he suddenly says. 

You scowl at him, confused. “I…what?” you dumbly ask. 

“I said you’re fuckin’ fine,” he repeats without a single beat. “Why you needed a lingerie shoot to make you feel more confident with a face and body like yours is beyond me. I’m just glad I get to see you like this.” 

Your heart thumps wildly as you continue to pose, not sure if you should stop. Geto snaps a photo regardless, acting as if he didn’t just say something so bold and flirty five seconds before. 

“You shouldn't say that,” you weakly say. 

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Why shouldn’t I?” he teasingly asks. “Can I not admire a very sexy woman like yourself?” 

He snaps another photo, the flash of the camera catching you off guard. “You can't tell me you didn’t notice me checkin’ you out when I came in here. If you’d let me, I’ll take photos of you in that little sundress of yours too.” His gaze is way more heated than before, the flirty smirk on his face making you feel even more uncomfortable as you lounge on the couch. 

But not uncomfortable in the way where you want to be away from him. On the contrary, in fact. You want to be closer than close to him, no clothes in between. The tension you’re feeling in the air and the clenching of your pussy are starting to get to you, driving you crazy. 

Geto’s words are to blame for that. Though flirty, can tell he is deadass. He sounds so sure; so real. No jokes or nothing. He isn’t a profile on a dating app or a hookup who is only seeing you in the darkness. You’re in front of him–all of you–and he still is looking at you like he wants a piece. 

He takes your silence for something different and stops snapping photos for a moment. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he worriedly asks. You sit up from your position, planting your ass on the couch. “No,” you softly answer with a slow head shake. “I’m just not used to getting compliments like that. Especially from someone like you.” 

“Someone like me?” he parrots, raising an eyebrow. You roll your eyes, knowing he wants you to elaborate and embarrass yourself. “You know you’re fine,” you sigh, “and men as fine as you don’t really see me as anything but…well, fat. If they don’t look at me as a hookup, they barely look at me at all.” 

Once the truth is out there, you feel stupid and small. Why did you tell him that? He could never understand or care. Maybe those three glasses were a bad idea. Geto only stares at you, silent and making you feel uneasy. Suddenly, he comes around the camera and strides up to you, making your heart pound with every step. When he suddenly sits beside you, the couch dips slightly from his weight. 

“What are you doing?” you softly ask, barely above a whisper. 

Slowly, he takes his hand and lays it on yours which is placed on your thigh. You shiver as if his hand is touching your naked skin. “I forgot to tell you the other reason why I decided to become a photographer,” he softly mutters, his voice like a rumbling earthquake to you. “To capture pretty little things like you.” His fingers on his other hand trail up and down your leg, as soft as a butterfly’s wings. “To make them feel beautiful with the work I do.” 

Your breathing is labored, your chest rapidly heaving up and down. “I-I’m not little,” you softly stutter. Geto chuckles, believing different. “You sure as hell are, even from where I’m sitting.” And he’s right–the man is still towers over you despite sitting down. 

You barely crack a smile. “I mean, I’m not…little like the girls you’re used to photographing.” You squeeze at your thigh fat, frowning. "I have arm and thigh fat, and cellulite, and–“ 

“And you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” Geto growls, holding your hand tighter. He scoots closer to you, completely in your grill…but you don’t move away. “And I’m not leavin’ here today until I make you see that. So can I kiss you?” 

You gape at him, shocked at his brazened question and attitude. He stares at you, patiently waiting for an answer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips that look so soft and pink. You wonder what they feel like…or taste like… 

You barely hear yourself whisper out “yes”, but Geto does. You barely have time to take a breath because he is leaning in and pressing your lips to his. It starts off innocent and careful, his soft lips slowly moving against yours. But once he finds that rhythm, the kiss becomes sensual; heated; panty-dropping. 

Geto is a fantastic kisser. Probably the best you’ve had. His lips are pillowy soft and his tongue tastes of mint gum and Moscato as he swirls it with yours. You don’t remember moving closer to him or wrapping your arms around his neck, but there you are, on the couch, making out with your photographer. At some point, he grasps your hips with his big hands and coaxes you into his lap despite your squeak of protest. You’re worried you might hurt him but from the way his hands are gliding along your ass, you guess he doesn't give a fuck. 

“We don’t have to go any farther than you want to,” he murmurs between heated kisses and moving lips. “I wanna make you feel good, but I don’t have to do that in any way you’re uncomfortable with.” Though you hear his words, you can feel the hardened bulge that has begun to grow in his jeans that you nudge against, rubbing against your clit. 

 You don’t know if it’s the wine, the music, or him, but something inside of you suddenly switches on, transforming you into the sexy version of yourself that are in Geto’s photos. You want to put the lingerie you’re wearing to good use and you know Geto is the perfect person to help you with that. “You could start by takin’ more photos of me,” you purr, peering down at him. “And I can take these off.” You take his hands and glide them down your sides, making him feel the sheer bodysuit. 

Geto’s eyes are hooded and dark as he gazes up at you, ready to do whatever you want. Then a mischievous smirk curls onto his lips. “Actually, I have a much better idea.” He slowly takes you off of his lap and hurries over to the camera, pressing a few buttons. “I’m gonna set the camera up right here on auto. It’ll go off every thirty seconds, so every time you make a move to strip, it’ll take a pic.” 

He slowly strides back over to you, making you tremble with every slow, teasing step he takes. “That means I’ve got my hands free to touch every part of you,” he hums, a slow smile stretching across his lips. As if backing him up, the camera shutter goes off, flicking a photo of you sitting there and gaping at him. 

He cocks his head to the side. “Well?” he asks. “Get to strippin’.” 

With trembling hands, you slowly begin to take down the straps to your bra, exposing your naked shoulders to him. Then you reach behind to unhook the bra but can’t reach no matter how much you wriggle around. Geto peers down at you, smiling humorously. “Need help, mama?” he chuckles. You nod sheepishly, flushing hot at the pet name curled around his deep voice. 

He gets on his knees in front of you, coaxing your thighs apart, and reaches behind you to unhook your bra. Once it’s loose, your tits come falling out of the cups like dripping fruit, your brown nipples erect. Geto almost looks pained at the sight of them. “God, look at these tits,” he groans. “You’re just as perfect as I thought you’d be.” 

He leans in and plants his face into your breasts, nuzzling his face in them. You squeak as he does so, frazzled by his action as he motorboats you. He must like titties. After getting his fill of your breasts in his face, he latches his lips onto one of your hard nipples and suckles on the sensitive peak. With his other hand, he toys with your other breast, gently folding and jiggling it, tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

You whimper and moan at each of his ministrations, losing yourself in his touch. He is careful to not hurt you, but he isn’t being soft either. He is handsy and hungered like a starved man, switching between your breasts to give each nipple their own treatment until your tits are coated in his saliva. “Suguru,” you softly moan. 

“Hm?” he hums, still swirling his tongue around one of your areolas. You arch your back into his mouth, your hips grinding against the couch cushion for some relief. “P-Please…touch me.” 

He peers up at you from your tits. “Touch you where?” he teasingly asks. You whimper shyly, still squirming about. “Don’t be shy now, baby girl. Tell me what you want me to do.” 

The heated look in his eyes and the need you feel encourage you to leave that shy shit on the shelf. “Touch me here,” you whisper heatedly. You move your hand between your legs, pressing your fingers against the tiny cotton panty line pressing against your throbbing cunt. “Touch my pussy. And please, get those clothes off.” 

Geto smirks wolfishly at your dirty words. “I can definitely do that.” 

He gives your lips a heated, chaste kiss before he stands before you. The song bumping from the Alexa has now switched to Kehlani’s “Can I”–a tune that is fitting for what’s taking place before you. Geto keeps his eyes set on you as he begins to strip, starting with his boots and socks then starting on his shirt, pants, and boxers. He peels each article of clothing off, flinging them across the floor, forgotten. 

Once he is completely naked in front of you, you’re able to indulge in all of him. His body looks as if it was carved from stone itself–each muscle ripples along his body like hard granite stone, not too overwhelming but definitely making you feel like he could break you like a toothpick with how small you are. He truly is a big man, with big hands, big feet, and an even bigger dick. He has to be about eight inches–thick, long, veiny, and dripping with pre-cum all for you. You can’t take your eyes off of it despite the rest of his body being delicious. 

“Like what you see, baby girl?” he hums, teasingly swinging his hips a bit. It causes his dick, thick and long, to swing like a pendulum between his thick, tree trunk-like thighs. You nod, moving to get your hands on him, but he takes your wrists firmly in his hands. “Uh-uh,” he tuts. “Not yet. You told me to touch you, and that’s what I’m gonna do.” 

Without a warning, his hands move under your ass and hoists you up onto his waist. “Oh!” you giggle, surprised and extremely aroused at his strength. He plops you down onto the couch so you’re now lying on your back. He props himself up on his knees between your thighs, peering down at you. “As pretty as this lingerie, I need it off of you.” 

Helping you sit up, he gets the rest of the lingerie off of you and pulls it down your ankles that are still strapped in your heels. Once it’s off, you’re completely nude, just in your jewelry and gold heels. The fact makes you shy and want to hide away but Geto’s lustful expression stops you. His big hands slide up your legs and slowly pry your thighs apart, revealing your aching, glistening, wet cunt to him. 

“Fuck, you’re wet!” he chuckles, looking up at you between the V of your thighs. “All of this for me, baby? You barely know me.” 

And that’s true. You only know as much as his website and Maki have told you. But you find yourself not giving a shit. “Maybe we can get to that later?” you breathlessly suggest. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you over dinner.” 

Your suggestion registers across Geto’s face and his gaze darkens to something way more sensual than before that he knows that this isn’t a hookup. “I know a damn good pizza place near here, if you’re up for it. But lemme make you cum first.” Without another word, he tosses your legs aside and dives into your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit and gently sucking on your lips. 

Yes, Geto is a great kisser, but he’s even better at eating pussy, you realize. His mouth alternates between using his lips to suckle gently on your pussy lips and clit to using his tongue to slowly flick the inside of your tight pussy walls. He takes his time, his movements deliberate and methodical, taking each moment to draw a moan or a whimper out of you. 

You’re losing it. You toss your head back against the pillow and grip the couch, your fingers digging into the couch cushions. “Fuck, sugar!” you shout to the ceiling, the nickname flying out of your mouth. How the fuck is he this good with his mouth? 

Geto looks up at you, his eyes shining from between the V of your inner thighs. “Call me that again,” he growls before spitting a copious amount of spit onto your pussy and slurping it back up, the lewd, wet sounds driving you farther to insanity. You grip his shoulders as he keeps his hands firmly placed on your inner thighs, pinning them up so your heeled feet are perched high on his head. 

“God, sugar!” you whine. “Please keep doing that! You’re so…so…” 

All words and thoughts leave you, the pleasure leaving you dumb. You want to control yourself, but it’s especially hard when he swirls his tongue around your clit and dips into your little wet hole to pay attention to you there. He slurps up every ounce of you, not leaving a single drop to waste. 

You hope he’ll be able to handle it when you cum because you can already feel it rising. That chord in your core is about to snap with how soft his lips are and the way his nose constantly keeps nudging against your sensitive little button. “Geto,” you moan in a warning. “I-I’m gonna–” 

“I can feel it,” he groans into your pussy, still lapping away. “Cum on my face, mama. I wanna taste all of you.” He grips your thighs and moves his jaw faster, coaxing you further toward that edge, his tongue flicking mercilessly against your clit. “Cum for me,” he demands. “Don’t fuckin’ hold back.” 

But you can’t. Not yet. “Wait!” you practically shot. He sits up, alarmed and his mouth coated in your juices. “I-I wanna cum with you,” you softly say. “I wanna feel you in my mouth…in my throat…”

You move to fondle his cock, earning a lustful groan from deep in his throat. “Please, Sugu,” you whimper. “I need you.” 

Geto raises an eyebrow at you. “You wanna 69?” he asks, shocked. “You’d have to sit on my face for that. Is that okay with you? ‘Cause I’m close to cumming just by the thought of this ass in my face.” He reaches down to give your ass a smack, making you jump slightly. 

Though you’ve never 69-ned with anyone before, you know that you want to feel Geto’s dick down your throat now and nothing can curb that hunger until you do. So you nod, determined to not let your insecurities about you weight get to you. Without another warning, Geto lies flat on his back and pats his lap for you to climb up into. With a soft giggle, you twist around so your ass is facing him and you’re looking down at his hard cock waving in your face. 

You feel Geto’s arms instantly wrap around your waist, forcing you to plant your ass back onto his face. You squeak, instinctively tensing. “Shh, it’s okay,” he coos, gently stroking your backside. “I can take you easy if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want you to feel good.” 

His dick begins to bob up and down in front of you which you realize he’s doing on his own. Fuck, this man is dangerous. “Relax, mama,” he soothingly says. “I’ve got you. Just take what you need.” 

And so you do. With a fire igniting inside of you at the sight of his veiny, thick cock in front of your very eyes, you wrap a hand around the base of his dick, biting your lip at the fact that you can barely fit it all in your hand. You start by spitting a copious amount of spit onto his cock and stroke it up and down his shaft, making him shine with your saliva. Geto groans softly at the feeling of your tiny, soft hand wrapped around him from underneath you and begins to gently play with your pussy, gliding his finger up and down your twitching lips and clit. 

After lubing him up with your spit, you lean in and press small kisses along the head of his dick, throwing some kitten licks in the mix. He loves that. His toes curl and his hands clench at his sides as more porn-worthy sounds drift from between his lips. 

After gaining enough courage, you finally open your mouth wide to accommodate to his size and take him into your mouth. “Fuck!” he grunts as soon as your lips and tongue make contact with his dick. You begin to bob your head up and down along his dick, sliding him in and out of your mouth. You stroke in time with what you can’t gobble down, making sure to keep a secure grip along his slick, wet cock. 

He tastes good. He smells good. He feels good. He sounds good. All of your senses are completely taken over by him as you suck and gag on his dick, hollowing your cheeks and opening your throat to take him deeper. “Such a good girl,” he groans, one hand curling in your hair. “Takin’ that dick so deep in your pretty mouth like that. I bet a girl like you has been needin’ this, hm?”  

His lewd words encourage you to take him deeper, so much that you start gagging because of how thick he is. He practically fills your throat, making you nearly choke on it. Your eyes begin to well with tears, possibly fucking up your mascara. 

But you never give up or stop. You’ll be damned if the first blowjob you give him is the worst one he’s had. You take things slow, allowing yourself time to get used to his size as you slide your head up and down, up and down, along his dick. His moans get louder, his grip tighter on your waist as you gag on his dick like it’s no one’s business. Saliva drips from your mouth down his heavy balls, and you find yourself wanting to suck on those too. 

“Fuck, baby!” Geto growls, his hand coming down to spank your ass. The sharp sound of his hand recoiling against your plump ass makes you moan around his dick. “You deserve the same treatment,” he huffs, his hot breath caressing your twitching pussy. You suddenly feel his tongue begin to swirl around your clit, alternating between that and softly sucking on the sensitive, little bud. 

“Sugu,” you whimper, your words muffled around his cock. Drool pools from your mouth and down his shaft, dripping all the way down his balls and onto the couch below. You continue to bob your head up and down his shaft, adding your own sloppy, wet sounds to his as he plays with your pussy with his tongue like it’s his own personal playground. 

His big hands grab and massage your ass, spanking it here and there. Every time his hand comes down to smack one of your ass cheeks, your pussy clenches in his mouth. It’s just too much! 

Click! 

Your eyes shift to the left, finding the camera still on auto and taking pictures. You realize that it’s been on auto this entire time. You almost forgot that Geto set it up that way before he helped you strip off your clothes. How many pictures of you are there? And how many of them are with Geto? 

The idea of the camera taking such risqué pictures of you turns you on, especially if the photos are of you and him in this position–you sitting perfectly on his face with his long dick in your throat while your pussy is in his mouth, your thighs spread wide for him.

How would Maki react if she saw such photos by accident?

How would she and Mai look if they were to enter the studio right now and find you spread out like a dessert plate for your photographer? 

The naughty ideas make you gush much to Geto’s enjoyment. He hums into your pussy, causing your clit to quiver with pleasure. “Feelin’ good, baby?” he coos into your pussy. “Think you can cum for me just like this?” 

‘I…” You can’t even utter one coherent word as he widens his mouth and takes your whole pussy into it, his tongue swirling around your little hole.

You quiet your desperate moans by gobbling down his dick once more, stroking your hand in time with the bob of your head. You’re so glad the music is still blasting because neither one of you are quiet. Moans and sloppy sounds of your activity swim around you, filling the air. 

Your jaw begins to ache and your eyes water the more you take Geto into your throat. However, when you begin to feel him swell in your mouth, stretching it out further, you know that you can't give up. Not until you make him cum. So you go faster, gluck-glucking all around his cock like your life depends on it. At the same time, you can feel your clit begin to swell and you start to grind your hips down into his face like he’s your personal surfboard. 

Geto chuckles from underneath you, holding your hips down against his face. “You gonna cum for me, mama?” he mumbles into your pussy. One of his hands move to your ass to press against your entrance, barely entering but still giving you all the pleasure you need. “Mmm-hmm!” you squeal around his cock. “M’so…so close!” 

You can feel that cord in your core about to snap again, the feeling rising every time Geto repeats his actions. You can tell he’s close to by how his hips begin to bump against your mouth, making you take his cock further down your throat. “Me too,” he grunts. “Keep goin’ and I’ll cum for you too, baby girl. Is that what you want?” 

His thick finger suddenly slides easily into your slick, wet pussy, practically making you scream. You pop off of his dick, gasping at the feeling. “Yes!” You sob in ecstasy. “Please, sugar! Please give me your cum! I wanna cum with you too!” 

That is all Geto needs to hear. Like a madman, he clamps you farther down onto his face so you can’t move, flicks his tongue along your sensitive clit, and strokes your walls a little faster, coaxing you to burst all over his face. “Cum for me, mama,” he growls into your cunt. “Cum all over my face, Y/N.” 

And as you bob along his cock, you finally do. The strength in his hands pinning your thighs open and his wondrous mouth push you over the edge. You begin to grind your hips into his mouth, chasing that orgasm like a high. Finally, with a mewl-like moan and your eyes screwed tight, you burst all over Geto’s mouth and the couch cushion beneath you. Your orgasm crashes into your body, making it shiver and shudder with aftershocks as Geto continues to softly lap at your pussy. 

After a few moments of continuous work, Geto finally follows you down that hill into the sea of bliss. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” he groans, and you suddenly feel him burst all in your mouth. His cum shoots out onto your tongue, immediate and creamy. It surprises you so much that you react your mouth a bit, causing his cum to spurt all over your lips and face, ruining your makeup. 

Geto groans appreciatively at your mouth and taste, eating you up like an hungered animal. Your mind is hazy and your body feels as light as a feather as you begin to come down from your high as you begin to lap up his cum, cleaning his cock for him. It is by far the best orgasm you’ve had. 

Finally, once he’s sure you’re cleaned up and way too sensitive for more, Geto removes himself from between your thighs. With his help, you slowly move off of him though your legs feel like jelly. “Easy now,” he coos, helping you sit down on the couch cushion. He sits up from his spot, his chin and mouth shiny with your cum and his saliva. 

“Mmm,” he hums, licking his plump, pink lips free of your juices. “Definitely better than Moscato.”  

You breathlessly giggle, licking his cum from your lips. “You too,” you purr, earning a chaste kiss against your lips. “I may need a towel though.” 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry, baby. You just felt so good, I couldn’t help myself. Stay right here.” He gets up from the couch and walks to the bathroom, his tight, firm ass a sight indeed. 

After a few minutes of lounging on the couch, exhausted but satisfied, he finally comes back with a warm, wet towel and helps you dab off his cum, careful not to ruin your makeup. After you’re all clean, he wraps his muscular arms around you and slides you into his lap for closer access. “That was amazing,” you sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder. 

He hums in agreement. “It definitely was.” He moves his hand to your forehead, wiping away a stray piece of hair from your sweaty forehead. “Now do you see how fucking gorgeous you are? I bet you would from those naughty lil’ photos now.” He presses his lips to your neck, making you whimper as he kisses the sensitive parts of your skin. 

“We still have to finish the photoshoot,” you softly moan as his hands move to caress your breasts. “Maki will be mad if we don’t.” He groans in protest, but moves away from you anyway. “Maybe after some pizza?” he suggests, smirking at you. “I made a promise to you, didn’t I?” 

Realizing he was serious from the start, you can do nothing but giggle and press a kiss to his lips, feeling giddy at this new, blossoming feeling of something real starting. 

When Geto pulls away from the kiss, his eyes trail down to your body. “Damn; I really made a mess,” he chuckles. You look down, finding your tits and stomach to be coated in his cum too. You reach for the towel but he grabs it first and holds it out of reach. “Geto, I need to get clean!” you whine. 

“Not just yet, mama.” He smacks your ass before coaxing you off of him and moves behind the camera. You sit there confused and exposed, his cum dripping down your body, makeup and hair a fucked-out mess, and your pussy glinting in your cum and his spit. 

He grins at you, his teeth glistening white. “Stay like that,” he orders before bending down behind the camera. 

“Smile for the camera, baby,” he chuckles. Before you can protest, the shutter flickers. 

[pawinpersu]

when i met you in that hotel room ₊ 𓂃 venti / barbatos

♡: afab!reader. reader works at angel share (lets pretend its a hotel lol) maid!reader. needy!venti. consent kink. cunnilingus. pnv. mating press. slight breeding kink. pretty much fluff !! slight self loathing from venti... (he ain't been getting action and he feels old.) mostly dom! venti (im so sorry i didnt make him very switchy) has been proofread hopefully its not ooc ..(。·ˇ‸ˇ·。)…

staying in a room at the angel share, after buying a whole bottle of dandelion wine, venti sighs to himself in contentment. observing his land outside the window, admiring in his thoughts how that maid looked delivering his drinks to his booth about thirty minutes ago. the maid outfit looked so sinfully beautiful on you. it had been... ages since his last rendezvous esque relationship. desperate, he called himself. not that he looked old but after being thousands of years on teyvats warm shores you grow slightly unaware of things, mostly due to cutting himself off from such relationships. not that he doesnt desperately want one.

calling up service to his room, knowing it will be you. his body aches, this form becoming slightly uncomfortable. he sees your silhouette as you open the door, smiling sweetly he bids you to come in. "is there something you need, sir?" you ask kindly, an underlying gruffness to your voice. sweet thing. so precious. so overworked. must you trouble yourself with such things in a place where freedom reigns? he asks you in his head, not voicing his thoughts. "hic! i would.. hic! like some.. room service, dear maiden- hic! unngh" hiccups, he curses. maybe he has drunk too much.

he leans up on the bed with his elbows, patting with his hand beside him, looking up at you with his pretty emerald, with light greens and azures mixed in them eyes. you question, before sitting down beside him, the slightly short outfit riding up your thighs. as observant as venti is he is quite aloof to certain things, but never this. he thanks himself, reminding himself of his status, he shudders. this girl, was a mere mortal. how could.. how could he possibly be so unwavering towards her, so needy. wishing her hands were undoing his corset. his belt. his shorts. anything right now would save him from thinking so much!

his voice slightly heightens, his eyes trail down your body before looking up into your eyes again. "have.. hic!" he cuts himself off cursing the hiccups once more. he reaches out his hand, holding it towards her. as you take it, he pulls you down a bit onto the bed. "hic! you.. hic!... sweet maiden grown a match of poppies and cecelia's, my dear? you are so incredibly sweet." his words like honey, yet with a bit annoyed tone. he needs something to get rid of these hiccups! his charm!

his eyes lake over your pretty face, admiring your features. swallowing softly, hopefully that will take them away, pushing a strand of your hair out of your face. "does this feel right, my sweet flower? have i stepped to far, please, indulge my questions with your answers, whatever you need or want, i shall give it" no matter how badly he wants you. deciding now if you say get off me or, no, then he wouldnt be upset, how dare he even if he was, having just the one moment will suffice lifetimes. your softness, your face close to his, his hands able to caress yours, and your pretty face. he wants to whine. the sensations feel as if they did the first time.

you give him a shy nod, your mind and heart race. you need to go back, to clean, to do your job. but.. the way he looks at you. the way he talks to you, the way he touches you. like you're a piece of crystal, a jewel. you watch him softly, your breath hitching as he grows closer. his hand trailing down your thigh. his eyes glazed with lust and something slightly calm, and content. his fingers start making patterns on the flesh of it. "may i kiss you, sweet flower? please hear my heart for what it needs is something so delicately beautiful as you"

another nod, his words fill you with ache. no man has ever given such bold advances to you, as he kisses you his lips move against yours, making you feel light headed. his want his need is excruciating. how many years has it been since such a feeling has made him lightheaded. his hands trail up to the swells of your hips gripping them with his fairly soft hands. you're soft, delicate, and utterly gorgeous. almost sinfully he adds in his head. how long has barbatos been without shame in this very moment. not caring if others heard you outside the hotel room. or him.

whenever you get the courage to move your own lips against his, he whines. he's vocal and he's not afraid to show it, gripping your hips harder he slightly moves more on top of you, not breaking the kiss. his lips more feverish. his face hot not just from the alcohol but the slight recoil of embarrassment. afraid if he might continue he might just make a fool of himself. he whines before pulling away from the kiss seeing your eyes flutter open at him cutely, makes him longing for more. "you taste divine dear. i simply cannot get enough of you." his voice gruff, his eyes feel hazy. glazed over with something more than desire. "may i continue, beautiful girl? ill love you with care my sweet flower" he says, promisingly.

"i.. yes.. yes please" your own body is hot, the maid outfit suddenly uncomfortable. dear barbatos forgive me, you say in your head. hearing him chuckle. "ah. sweetheart, dont trouble yourself with asking for forgiveness. not when this is so right" he kisses down your neck, prying your thighs open softly, his hips grinding now against yours. "ah.. dearest me, even such small stimulation you feel amazing." saying through the kisses. he bunches your skirt up, his fingers playing with the hem of your panties, before digging his nails into your hips. grinding harder.

"hnngh.. how could i possibly let go of this.. feeling.. nngh!" he whines, biting at your neck. sucking harshly. hearing your small gasps, he kisses back up to you jaw. "y.. you're so sweet, my flower. unngh.. ahnn.." his hips buckle, his face grows hotter. wanting, needing more. "such a pretty face, a gorgeous body.. nngh.. ah- just like that" he whispers, moving a bit faster. able to feel his length through the soft and sensual grinds. he takes a deep breath before looking down at you. "im going to remove this pretty outfit, maiden, is that okay? may i?" he asks eagerly, his hips halter.

"yes.. please. please. no one has ever made me feel this way" you gasp out, you panties already slick with desire. whining a bit at the lost of the friction, you push yourself more up against him. he chuckles a bit, getting a ego boost. admiring how thirsty you are just as he is. he slowly pushes the maid outfit down your gorgeous body. seeing your lacey garments, connecting with your thigh highs. he bites his bottom lip before grazing his hand down your hips, to your ass. squeezing the flesh.

"how sinfully beautiful those look on your gorgeous skin. so soft, so pretty." he kisses your tummy. his hand squeezing at the flesh of your hips again. his head moving down to your thighs, pushing your navel to make you lay down all the way, you push up on your elbows to watch him. kissing your inner thighs, eyeing your pussy, such a delicate things. kissing your clothed cunt softly, before looking up at you seeing you gasp, he smirks, a slight chuckle vibrating against your clothed mound. he pulls down your lacey garment, down your thighs the thigh highs still on. after finally getting them off he looks up at you once more.

"mmm, such a pretty, pretty flower you have my dear maiden. may i?" always asking for consent, always considering you first. you nod impatiently. he nods, his breath warm against your pussy, before licking softly, prodding your folds open. his eyes rolling back, ah how he's missed giving pleasure to a woman. he presses your hips more to his mouth, licking the labia softly. using spit to coat more of your glistening sex as he sucks on your delicate cunt, using his jaw to give more friction. slurping your essence, you're so new to this. new to how such things work, but fuck. the way he looks up at you while he does it.

after awhile his ministration's don't stop, he needs to make you come first. he whines against your pussy, slurping lewdly against it. sucking your pretty clit, your hips buckle. gasping. "oh.. fuck! there.. there.. ah!" you cry out, feeling his lips suckle faster making you see white. your hands instinctively gripping his hair pushing him, as your back arches and hips buck, your slick coating his lips and tongue. you gasp for air, as the feelings subdue. a whine to your breathing, your elbows aching as you fall back all the way, your legs shaking.

"mmm.. absolutely luscious." he licks his lips. pushing up on his hands crawling back on top of you. kissing your lips, tasting yourself as he moves his tongue into your mouth. the sensual kiss making more blood go to his aching cock. roughly pushing his shorts down, making his dick slap against his tummy, removing his corset and top, cursing at himself. why does he wear so many layers, fuck. he lifts your legs, pushing them to your chest, holding them with one hand, stroking his cock softly. "anngh.. you look angelic. my little flower, is this what you want? please. i need to fill your pretty pussy up, so... bad. nn.." his hips falter, getting even more aroused by his own words.

as you consent, you cover your face. feeling his other hand move down to spread your sensitive cunt apart, rubbing the tip softly against it, he whines. not able to take it anymore, he softly pushes against warm and tight channel. his eyes roll back, his other hand still holding your legs up, before his other grabs your hand, holding it softly. "oh.. fuck!" he breathes out, his hips going in slow thrusts, but needing to go faster, needs to breed this small pussy. gods, how badly has he needed this, fuck. he looks at you, pulling away from holding your hand grabbing the other on your face. "shhh... sweet cecelia, dont hide your pretty face."

he starts going faster, his face contorts, his braids move rapidly, as well seeing your breasts move with each thrust, makes his insatiable need grow. he whimpers, gripping the flesh under your thighs again, being slightly sloppy. "hnngh.. fuck.. you're so.. so gorgeous my windblume, im.. mmm.. feel s'fucking good.. so good" his insistent compliments and feverish thrusts of his cock, makes you feel crazy. his words, his body, his touch, everything about this man was.. so.. good. so so good. no one has ever made you feel this way. you whine, looking up at him, your mouth parted as you breath in gulps of air, breathy moans making him ache. needing to see you come on his cock, needing to see your face as he fills you up. needing it, craving it.

".. ah! please please.. s-shit!.. ah.. oh fuck.. gonna.. gonna breed you.. gonna.. fuck! make this pretty flower all.. all mine..!" he grumbles, positioning his hips harder, before whining feeling your pussy gush and tighten around him making his thrusts sloppy, he falls on top of you. still gripping the muscles under your pretty thighs. he hears you gasp, feeling your nails into his shoulders suddenly as your cunt flutters around him, your slick gushing down at each press of his cock. "ah! ohh.. please, please please!" you whine, before it turning into cute mewls.

fucking hell, he liked that. oh he needed that, he pushes your knees up more, going deeper, feeling your velvet walls clench as the lasting moments of your orgasm hit you, he whimpers his hips faltering once more before picking up the pace again. "holy.. hnnghh... my pretty cecelia.. im.. nngh.. im.. gonna.." he pushes his face in the crook of your neck as his hips grow sloppy, his cock throbbing as fills your pretty pussy, feeling it bulge your cute tummy. he whines, panting against you.

"f.. fuck.. fuck.. fuck.. mmph! filling you up, so." thrust "good, nngh.." his climax subsiding, still tenderly thrusting inside you, as he catches his breath he looks up at you through his lashes. "my sweet, gorgeous flower." he says softly, giving you small kisses now. before catching his strength to slightly lift up, brushing your glistening hair from your face. having a content smile on his face, he cups your chin seeing your fucked out gaze, assuming he has the same look. "don't you look exquisite, so, so pretty. sucha good girl. my pretty windblume" he giggles, squishing your face. bending down once more kissing you, a soothing lullaby to your exhaustion.

♡an: omg this is the longest small fic ive ever done, i locked in. LOLL.. hope u all like it :3 for @astronomerzin

[alaia777]

i so squealed when i saw ur recent post could i request can we trade? yours is way better! with rin tysmmm i love ur work

oh my goddddd thank you so so so much, i hope you like it :’) i also love ur work !!!!!

if you knew he was going to frown and grumble the entire walk to the café, you would’ve just left him at home. but no—he couldn’t listen. you warned him. you threatened him. if he so much as touched a football on his day off, you were going to invite his brother over to your guys’ place. and yet, here he was, dragging his feet like a kid forced to run errands, acting like this was some huge punishment.

the least he could do was suck it up and come with you, especially after you sat through 90 minutes of a match between two teams you couldn’t even be bothered to remember.

“if you want to spend quality time together, then you should sit down and do something i enjoy for once.” that’s what he said at the time. and thinking back on it now, you try not to cringe. he wasn’t just watching the game—he was in it, barking orders at the screen like a wannabe captain. or coach. either way, he gave you the ick that day.

“my friend told me this place is amazing. they make the best crepes in the world,” you say, glancing at him.

he stops for a second, frowning even harder—if that was even possible.

“crepes? you made me skip lunch because you were taking me out to eat, and we’re getting crepes?”

you ignored him and picked up the pace as soon as the café came into view. luckily, it wasn’t too crowded—you wanted to sit down and actually enjoy the atmosphere. you didn’t bother waiting for him, heading straight to the counter to order. and, okay, maybe you went a little overboard with the toppings. whipped cream, chocolate, and peanut butter sounded like a great combo in theory. but now, staring at your plate, you weren’t so sure. especially when you saw his. simple, golden, and so much more appetizing than the sugary mess in front of you.

you cut into yours and take a bite—or at least, you try to. the way all the toppings mix together on your fork makes your stomach turn. rin doesn’t even have to look up to know you’re staring at his. you’re not exactly subtle, practically slouching over the table to get your plates closer together. he can already hear you—

“can we trade? yours is way better!” you blurt out, already reaching with your fork.

but he’s faster, dragging his plate away before you can even think about stealing a bite.

“no. yours looks disgusting. what were you even thinking when you ordered that?”

you huff, glaring at him. “i was hungry, okay? not all of us spend hours strategizing our meals like we’re in a champions league final.”

you sigh and settle back into your chair, feeling a little guilty. how selfish of you to want to take his plate after you starved him of his lunch just because you couldn’t think straight in front of so many amazing toppings and flavors. you glance up briefly to see him getting out of his chair, probably to use the restroom, and you don’t bother looking away from your plate. maybe if you just open it up and eat it from the inside… or maybe you could fold it differently? you squint at it, trying to find a way to make this work.

you don’t even know how much time has passed since you started trying to figure out how to eat your damn crepes. all you know is that you’re completely lost in your thoughts when suddenly, your plate is replaced with another one. one with a single topping on it—your favorite one! you look up, and rin is already sitting back down, casually eating his own crepes.

“rinnnn,” you say in a whiny, happy voice, leaning toward him with a wide grin, “you actually love me so much, like, you can’t live without me, right? and you want to marry me right now, right?”

rin doesn’t even look up from his food, his tone deadpan as he answers.

“yeah, sure. after you finish that thing you call a crepe.”

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: All That Matters (Part 3)

Part 4

Even with all of Marshall’s efforts—his reassurance, his presence, the way he went out of his way to make you feel like you were the most important thing in his world—some days were still harder than others.

Like today.

He was back in LA for a few days, and you were home in Detroit, going through the motions. The kids kept you busy, but there was always a moment—usually late at night—when the doubt crept back in.

You had been scrolling through your phone, not meaning to fall down the rabbit hole, but one tap led to another, and suddenly, you were staring at a picture from an afterparty.

Marshall wasn’t doing anything wrong.

But there was a woman beside him—one of those up-and-coming singers, all perfect curves and confidence, leaning in just enough to make your stomach twist.

The comments didn’t help.

She’s bad as hell. Imagine them together.

She’d be an upgrade tbh.

They got chemistry.

Your fingers gripped the phone tighter, your breathing shallow.

You knew better than to believe online bullshit. You knew Marshall loved you.

But after everything… it still got to you.

So when your phone rang, and you saw his name pop up, you didn’t answer.

Then he called again.

And again.

You sighed, finally picking up. “Hey.”

“The fuck?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You tell me,” he shot back. “I been callin’ you for an hour.”

You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m just tired, Marshall.”

Silence. Then—

“Nah,” he said lowly. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, debating whether to lie. But before you could, he sighed.

“Baby, don’t do that. Just tell me.”

Your throat tightened. “I saw the pictures.”

He was quiet for a second. Then—“What pictures?”

You swallowed. “You and that girl at the afterparty.”

Marshall groaned. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? That chick talked to me for five minutes about music and people start makin’ shit up. You know how this works.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But it still sucks.”

He sighed heavily. “I shoulda taken you with me.”

You frowned. “Marshall, I couldn’t go.”

“I know,” he muttered. “And that’s the problem.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I hate bein’ away from you. I hate that you’re sittin’ at home, doubtin’ yourself, when all I wanna do is be there with you.”

Your heart clenched.

“I don’t give a fuck about any of those women,” he said firmly. “I don’t look at them. You’re the only one I see. And if me bein’ in LA or doin’ this music shit is makin’ you feel otherwise, then maybe I gotta change some shit.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

You frowned. “Marshall, your career is huge. You can’t just—”

“I don’t want it if it’s fuckin’ up my marriage.”

Your breath hitched. “Marshall…”

“I’d give it up tomorrow if it meant you’d never question how much I love you.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t want that.”

He exhaled sharply. “Then tell me what you do want. Tell me how to fix this.”

You wiped at your eyes. “I just… I wanna feel like I’m part of your life, not just waiting on the sidelines.”

Marshall was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Then you will be.”

You sniffled. “What does that mean?”

“It means I ain’t leavin’ you home anymore. If I gotta travel, you and the kids come with me. If there’s an event, you’re by my side. Ain’t no more of this ‘waiting at home’ bullshit.”

Your eyes widened. “That’s not realistic—”

“The fuck it ain’t?” he challenged. “Other people do it. And you ain’t just ‘other people,’ baby. You’re my wife.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Then, softer, he murmured, “I need you with me.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You inhaled shakily. “Yeah. Okay.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. Now, unlock the door.”

You frowned. “What?”

“The front door. Unlock it.”

Confused, you got up, padding toward the front of the house. You unlocked the door and pulled it open—

And there he was.

Standing on the porch, looking exhausted but so damn there.

Your heart stopped. “You’re supposed to be in LA.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well. My wife needed me.”

Tears slipped down your face as he pulled you into his arms, his grip so tight it left no room for doubt.

You buried your face in his chest, breathing him in, letting his presence melt away every insecurity, every fear.

Marshall pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I got you,” he murmured. “Always.”

And for the first time in a long time, you truly believed him.

[leeyasuojihan]

An Hour with You

Soobin X Male Reader

fluff, slight angst 

IC: Reader is an ex-SHINee member (maknae), age gap (5 yrs Soobin is 24, M/n is in his late 20’s), acquaintances/friends to lovers(not really), reader is friends with Yeonjun, reader had a past scandal very brief, -nim means Mr., sorry if anyone is out of character I'm just a writer 😣, Rusty writer, I'm seriously not good at dialogue

A/n: there were so many moments where I was like wtf am I writing about idek what pov this is? 3rd ig, I used the 40% of English I know, slightly inspired by the bl “Light on Me” the ending

Start: 12/22/24 - Finished: 02/02/25

~

An hour or 8, how long has it been? {name} has been in the studio since the group had returned from an interview, hours since he and Chan had both been there working on their solos for their next release HOP

Is there something wrong with him? All the other members have already finished at least writing their songs, I mean it's not that it's due anytime soon, but still, it's been weeks. The only word present in his notebook was the word “you” surrounded by scribbled-out traces of his past thought processes

How much longer would he have to stare at his pen for ideas to start forming? He looks around for his phone, seeing it by his once-filled coffee cup he checks the time, 6:30 AM, as it is about to turn off a notification reignites it

Lixie: Hyung, are you still at the studio? you weren't in your room

Why was he still up, they have another interview tomorrow, or well later today either way it's not something he's excited for, {name} quickly responds 

{name}: I’m leaving now, why are you still up Lixie

Sending the message he packs up disgruntledly glancing at his poor attempt at a song one last time before closing his notebook and tossing it into his bag so ready to do anything but think for the next hours

~

7:31

Entering the shared dorm Felix was waiting in the main room lying on the couch, hearing the door he turned his attention from his phone, “Oh hyung, you look tired”, “Wow, thank you” {name} said placing his bag down beside the door, he’ll get it later, or someone else will do it

“You know I didn't mean it like that, you lay with me,” Felix said, watching {name}’s slow movements towards him. Nights like this were when {name} wished he had just settled for a normal job after leaving his last group, he appreciated the member's efforts and all of Stay’s support, all 7 summers together were spent with no regrets, but with a schedule like this there should be a lot more breaks 

“Have you finished your song yet {name}?”, {name} groaned not wanting to think about his lack of creativity, “I'm not even close, I have no good ideas”, Felix responded with a hum “We still have a month” A month {name} is sure will be filled no progress since 5 have already passed

“Yeah,” {name} says, turning towards the window, curtains slightly blocking out the beauty of the sunrise. “It's almost light outside, I'll go shower so I won't take too long when we're ready to leave” At this point, it wasn't only the music becoming a burden 

It was everything and everyone, even the shortest conversations like this were exhausting especially when they were about work, he didn’t even feel like he had enough energy for a shower but whatever would help him get away for a few minutes

The thought of a hiatus was never a new thing, he had been on hiatus for a scandal a year ago, and that might be the problem, he had gotten so used to doing nothing only to be placed back with a hectic schedule on a random day when the company decided they wanted him back in the group 

Since this comeback started he has been battling the thought of having this conversation again, this time it being his own decision, he didn’t want to leave the boys worrying while they were all busy with practices and preparing for their solos. He’s usually good at pushing through these moments regardless of how tired he is, but recently the weight of everything feels as if it's trying to crush him

Being in the industry as long as he and being the oldest of the group has made even the smallest mistakes on stage and during recordings made him feel like he’s no longer good enough to be an idol, the other boys have noticed his constant requests for retakes but it never seemed that serious as Seungmin would do the same at times

Now not even being able to write a song was his limit, living like this any longer was just unbearable, all his passions seemed to be dimming, and it was obvious, to him at least, that he needed to take a step back before he completely loses it

The interview goes by as most do, lame jokes, fake laughs to be nice, and the interviewer knowing barely anything about the actual group, fun. Although {name} spent most of the interview zoned out it didn't change much since both felt like a waste of time, one was just more socially agreed on

Chan of course observed all his members making sure they were all comfortable and noticed quickly when {name} wasn't as interactive as he usually was, only sending small smiles his way when he’d seen the leader looking his way

Finally, there's an end to it, the room fills with thank you’s and staff members packing up, {name} quickly made his way over to Chan thanking a random staff member, “Can I talk to you about something” Chan's expression became more serious as he turned in {name}’s direction “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you too”

The two ended up in a bathroom, not the best place but it's private. “Are you okay you barely said anything the whole time” Chan started “Actually, Channie.. I haven't been feeling well lately, I wanted to talk to you about going on hiatus”

With his reaction {name} wasn't sure how he was feeling, Chan simply nodded and stared for a second before speaking again “How long have you been feeling like this, why didn't you tell me earlier”, {name} thought about for a second glancing around but still the design of the room goes unnoticed ���it's been 5 months now, I didn't want to bother you guys but right now everything even just talking for too long feels like a chore. I don't want to leave but I think I need time to find myself”

“{name} hyung, this isn't something that bothers us, this is serious. I'm sorry you've been feeling this way and that I didn't notice sooner, you've worked hard, it's normal to get tired, you're human. If a hiatus is what you need we’ll all support you” Chan says going in for a hug

{name} accepted the hug, It was no surprise he’d react this way, he was probably the best leader any group could have, but there was always a thought that leaving in the middle of preparing for another comeback was just selfish competing with the his other thought that if he doesn't take a break his lack of motivation could imperil the group and his relationship with his members

“Seriously don't worry about us, we can talk to the company together and figure out how to handle this. Take care of yourself”

[2 Days later]

For some reason having everyone here talking about this felt embarrassing, almost as if he should be punished for not being strong enough to keep going. The members sat gathered around the main room sitting wherever they could fit

As Chan explained why they were all called here, the attention was fully on him and {name} the only two standing, the atmosphere was awkward but free of judgment. Chan gave {name} a pat on the back before sitting on the couch armrest by Minho “I want to start by saying I love you all, I'm very grateful to be a part of this group and have you guys as my brothers, but lately…I haven't been okay”

The room immediately falls silent, the member's once playful expressions fading into furrowed brows and worried glances. Looking down to avoid eye contact {name} continues “I’ve been feeling burnt out for a while now. I didn't tell you guys because I didn’t want to disappoint you, but it’s been getting harder every day. I feel like I can’t give 100% anymore to our fans, you, or even myself. I already talked to Chan about it, and we both agreed that I needed to take a break”

There was a brief moment of stunned silence with the boys exchanging glances and processing his words. Still unable to meet their eyes {name} continues “I know this might make things harder for all of you. I hate the idea of leaving you even for a little while, but I need this time to figure things out, I’m really sorry”

Jeongin is the first to speak up “Hyung why are you apologizing? You dont have to be sorry for taking care of yourself” his voice wavering slightly “You’ve been so strong for all of us. If you’re feeling this way, we’ll support you no matter what”. Changbin’s usually playful personality wasn’t present 

“{name}ie, we’ve always said that we’d support each other through anything, and this is no different. Your health comes first. The group will manage without you for however long you need—we’ll make it work. You just focus on getting better.”

Felix made a slight humming sound nodding his head to agree “when you’re ready to come back we’ll be here waiting for you”

Felix got up walking to where {name} was standing pulling him into a hug. It didn’t take long before it became a group hug

5 days in, not much has changed aside from now being over rested. It wasn’t a bad change though. Despite the comfort {name} knew it was time to get out of bed and start taking care of himself 

When he walked to the living room his mom was watching the news, it was nothing important just something to follow the weather report 

“Ma?” hearing her son’s voice she looks over “oh you're up?, how are you feeling?” It was a quick glance as she continued to watching the news

“I feel a little better” {name} says walking over to the kitchen behind the couch. “That’s good, I made you something. Also when you’re done eating do you think you could go to the store for me”

This time instead of glancing she got up and walked over to him lifting the cover off the breakfast she made. {name} didn’t have anything else to do so the answer was easy “yea, what do you need me to get”

With 3 things left to find on the list his mom gave to him he turns the cart into another isle to be met with a man standing in front of 1 of 3 things

“Excuse me?” {name} called, The man turned around surprised “Oh! Hi {name}nim,”. It was Soobin, {name} knew him, he was the leader of his friend Yeonjun’s group. {name} had went out to restaurants and played games with members before, but only when Yeonjun was there

Soobin had also recently went on hiatus for health issues, “I saw that you’re also on hiatus now, how are you?”. {name} answered his question while placing what he needed in the cart “I’m doing well, what about you? your break is almost done”

“Ah, I’m good, I feel better” Soobin said observing the cart and its keepings. “{name}nim are you in a hurry to go home after this” 

“Not really,” there wasn’t much for {name} to do at home besides watching tv and talking to his mom and their dog, the groceries weren’t an urgent need

“There’s a café close, do you want to get coffee together?” Soobin asked looking as if he wanted any answer but a the word no

Or is this delusion? Either way no wasn’t an option “yea, I just need 2 more things though”, Soobin smiled softly “What else? Let’s look for them together. I couldn’t find what I wanted anyway”. He took the small blue paper from {name}’s hand

After ordering they took a seat in a corner with the grocery bags resting below them. Soobin angled his head trying to see the one that kept turning over

“Did you just want to get coffee, or did you want to talk about something?” Just a curious question from {name}. Soobin looked up with that one slightly surprised bunny expression he has

S-“I just thought about how I’ve never gotten the chance to talk to you alone”. 

{N}-“Tomorrow I have nothing to do, do you want to go somewhere together?”

For the first time in a while seeing someone didn’t feel like a chore to {name}, if anything it was his main motivation to do better

How would he go see Soobin if he hadn’t showered, brushed his teeth, or got dressed

At this point he’s gotten up early and showered for it to return as a habit. His phone lights up, 2:05 am, from Soobin 

“Hey {name}ie, do you want to go to the store with me?”

{N}- “Soobie it’s so late why are you up😭”

S- “we had to re-record a few things and why are you still up {name}-nim”

{N}- “alright,” “don’t question me” “I’ll go get ready and wait for you outside”

It wasn’t anything speacial but these past 4 months, even though Soobin when back to schedules, {name} has been going on late night or early morning walks with Soobin to a close store or to wherever they decide to stop, talking about any and everything

Surprisingly and unsurprisingly they had a lot in common, and Soobin tells {name} about everything that happens while he’s on hiatus 

Like Felix getting lost on stage again, Jeongin and Beomgyu annoying both groups, and messages of how much both Stay and the kids miss him 

The last one always feels like he was sent to recruit {name} from hiatus. “So how much longer do you think you’ll be on hiatus?” 

He’s been thinking about it, finally seeing his members again. As much as he needed this break, he now misses his members 1000 times more, calls weren’t enough 

Soobin has of course been great company, another thing he’s been thinking about

“Hmm, tomorrow” of course it definitely wasn’t thought out but {name} was tired of not being able to see them

“Really?!” Soobin stopped walking for a while until {name} reached beside him and turned to face him

{name} shook his head “mhm, also since you’re usually the one inviting me for walks, I invited you this time because I wanted to tell you something…”

They were back to walking. Soobin looked over again “Oh? {name}ie what is it?” 

“I like you” a sentence enough to stop their movement again. “I wanted to tell before I got off hiatus since our schedules probably won’t match anymore”

Blank stare. Blink. Was it a mistake? Did he misunderstand?

“{name} are you sure you’re ready to go back to the dorms?” His mom asked looking at him from the doorway

“Yea, I’ll be okay. I was okay when i debuted, I’ll be okay now” he glanced around his old room.

Knock Knock

“Mom did you invite someone?” “No, I’ll go check”. A few minutes later a stream of familiar chatter flowed down the hallway 

“{NAME}IE” Changbin already shouting before they all got into view. {name} got up meeting the members halfway at tge door, Felix was the first one to pull him into a hug

“Oh- why are you guys here?!” {name} accepted the hug motioning for the other boys to join which they did without hesitation except for Chan who just answered giggling at the scene “we had a day off so we wanted to come pick you up”

They separate with the younger members moving to do their own little inspection of the room that held their oldest brother for months 

“Are you feeling better?” Chan asked walking over and picking up {name}’s packed bag. “Yeah, I can’t wait to go back”

2024 MAMA Awards 

Hours of announcements and 4-5 awards won for the night, a performance is the perfect time for a bathroom break

Jisung and Hyunjin went along too. As they entered the bathroom Soobin was by the sink washing his hands and looked over 

The two boys beside {name} quickly greeted Soobin before entering their own stalls

Soobin grab a paper towel drying his hand before speaking. “{name}, I’m sorry,” “it doesn’t matter” before {name} walk away Soobin caught his hand

“After the awards, I’ll be outside for a while just come talk to me” Soobin finished throwing the paper towel away before hurrying back to his seat 

Soobin sat outside on a bench a bit near the building, a vacant area compared to the front littered with confused idols trying to get to their correct vans. {name}’s slow steps lead right to him. Soobin looked up blurry eyed “You're here”. {name} took a seat beside him only looking ahead as if there was something interesting about the same trees hes seen before

“What did you want to talk about Soobin?”. Sooobin let out a light sigh before sitting back “{name}, when you told me you liked me i was scared. I'm sorry”, “why are you saying sorry, it's okay, you don't need to like me , just say thank you for liking me, it sounds better”. 

Looking at each other Soobin finally lets himself smile, even if it was a small one, “thank you for liking me, but i like you too”. “Oh. Soobin-ah thank you, i really liked being around you, but this time i i’d rather someone who gives me the same effort i give”

Soobin glanced down for a second before looking back up to meet {name}’s evercalm expression, “hyung, i'll try again. I promise i wont make you feel that way again”.

“Go for it”

[captain-huggy-bear]

I have my MOT and service coming up for my car and I hate booking it, I had doing it, I hate it all and Clay feels like the sort to 100% do it for you so his a short drabble/prompt thing... Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

You're sat staring at your phone in the kitchen, trying to work yourself up to do it, to just pick the phone up, call them and book it all in...but you really won't want to. Every year you hate the process of getting your car serviced. You know its important, of course, that's why you make yourself do it, but you hate it. You hate booking it, the fact it always has to be a phone call. You hate taking your car in, showing your service book and dealing with the overwhelmingly male environment. You hate how they always try to convince you you need more work doing on your car than you do, how they try to overcharge you, how they talk to you like you're an idiot and you hate the resulting bill and awkward pick up.

Clayton comes into the kitchen from the garage, a dirty rag being used to clean his hands of grease from where he'd been changing his car's engine oil. You're staring so intently at your phone that he thinks you might actually cause it to explode in a minute, your shoulders are tense as he turns the sink on to wash his hands.

"Why are you staring at your phone like that, baby?" He asks as he lathers his hands in soap, bracelets clinking, shirt rolled up to his elbows. How he manages to make washing his hands attractive you're not sure but he does.

"Because I have to call the mechanics about my car service and I don't want to..." You mumble, pouting a little as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. Even if you weren't he'd still have made the same offer.

"What's the number?" Clayton's drying his hands off and reaching for his phone within seconds of your answer, fingers hovering over the screen ready to type the number in.

"Huh?" The way you blink at him, pout still firmly in place, but brows furrowing in confusion is adorable and it makes him huff out a laugh. His smile, your favourite thing, all crooked and dimpled, teeth poking out from underneath his top lip.

"What's the number? I'll book it and I'll take your car in, you can borrow my car for work for the day." He comes to lean on the counter next to you, hip popped slightly, thumbs still hovering to type in the number of your mechanic.

"You'd do that?" It shouldn't make your chest ache with affection, it's a simple thing, but it does because you hate doing this and he's offered without hesitation to do it for you, to make your life easier. It makes you want to kiss him, something so simple, but so meaningful.

"Yeah, I don't mind. You know how I feel about cars, besides stops you getting swindled over your shitty Vauxhall." Clayton laughs, phone being placed on the counter, as you gasp in offense at his comment about your car, even as you do he's reaching out for you, hands landing on your hips to pull you close. It doesn't matter that you cross your arms over your chest and he can't get you as close as he wants, he can't help but have a hand on you.

"Gimli isn't shitty!" You try to defend your car, your car you've had for a decade, your first ever car. The red little car that's carried you through university, your big job, to now.

"He's 10 years old and creaks, baby...I wish you'd just let me buy you a new car." Clay's been trying to buy you a new car for almost as long as you've been dating, but every time you refuse. You're attached to your car and you hate the idea of Clay spending that much money on you. He hates the idea that you're driving a car that might break down at any second when he's not there to help.

"But, Gimli..." You pout, arms dropping so he can pull you chest to chest, one of his hands smoothing a path up your side to cup your cheek. His hand is almost as big as your face, a perfect resting spot for your cheek.

"...Gimli..." He sighs, "s'cute how attached you are."

"Shut up..." You mumble out.

"Oh, so you don't want me to take your car to the mechanics?" Clayton goes to pull away from you, inching back with an expectant grin. It works because even though he's joking, even though he's being silly you can't help but wrap your arms around his waist, chin pressing into his chest and look up at him with a sweet apology on your lips.

"No, please, 'm sorry...I love you."

He grins down at you all teeth and dimples, a strand of brunet hair falling into his blue eyes and it only makes him more handsome, the way he loves to tease even as you both know he's still going to take your car to the mechanics. Because he loves you and anything to make your life easier is worth it in his eyes.

"Love you too, even if you're using me for your vehicle check-ups."

"I'm not! I promise!" You laugh, cheek rubbing against his shirt, arms tightening around him as one of his own comes to rest at the back of your neck, kneading the tight muscle there. "I'm thankful though, thank you...I hate doing it."

"I know, that's why I offered, sweet girl." He says it so simply, like that's just something you do. That anyone would do. When you know it's not. Your ex had never offered, he never even considered it. But, Clay? It's like he lives to serve, to make your life as easy, as simple as possible and it makes you love him so much more.

He leans down all sweet, smiling as he kisses you. It's so utterly domestic, the idea that he's taking your car to get serviced, that he's being the man of the house in a very traditional sense. You can picture the rest of your life with him in that moment. The tasks he'd take on his shoulders, the burdens he'd lift for you.

Clay starts taking your car to the mechanics every year from that point, like clockwork he phones up, books an appointment and like clockwork makes sure your car is safe for you to drive.

The few times you go with him to pick your car up, it's an experience, the way he haggles down the price, the way he argues that a type of work was superficial and unnecessary or downright shouldn't cost the price they're setting.

It not only takes the weight and stress from your shoulders, but there's something about Clay, about the way he argues and haggles and knows his stuff that always makes you admire just how attractive he is and if you can't help but want to kiss his face off when the two of you finally get home? Well, that's his reward for always taking care of your car for you.

[naebaetwsog]

I loved ur dohoon bf headcanons omg, can I please request a jihoon ver?🤍

。× Jihoon boyfriend headcanons＊

genre.fluff

warning.non

pairing.tws!jihoon x fem!reader

a/n. I’ve taking so long to respond the request and I want to apologise for that… hope you enjoy. Writing this convinced me even more that all I need to be happy is a Han Jihoon from tws

Bf!Jihoon Who is the type to wake you up on a Saturday like, “Get dressed, we’re going on an adventure.” You never know if it’s a cute picnic, a dance battle in an empty studio, or a spontaneous trip to the arcade.

Bf!Jihoon Who lives to annoy you in the most loving way possible. If you’re trying to concentrate, he’ll start tutting in front of your face. If you’re ignoring him, he’ll dramatically fake cry until you give him attention.

Bf!Jihoon Who always has to be touching you. A hand on your thigh, arm around your shoulder, playing with your fingers—he needs the physical connection.

Bf!Jihoon Who his absolute favorite thing is cuddling. He will literally wrap himself around you like a koala. You try to move? Not happening. “Five more minutes,” he mumbles, holding you tighter.

Bf!Jihoon Who acts all cool but actually gets pouty if you don’t give him enough attention. “Do you not love me anymore?” (He says after you ignored him for two minutes.)

Bf!Jihoon Who If he stubs his toe? He’s on the floor like he just got shot. If you take too long to respond to his texts? “I see how it is… I was just a phase to you.”

Bf!Jihoon Who If you steal his hoodie, he will make a whole show out of it. “Oh wow, looks better on you than on me. Guess it’s yours now. What a shame…” (He’s actually obsessed with it.)

Bf!Jihoon Who your clothes, his clothes—it’s all your clothes now. He doesn’t even ask, just casually wears your stuff like it was always his.

Bf!Jihoon Who if you say something sassy, he’ll just tut aggressively at you. If you ignore him, tut tut tut right in your face. “Jihoon, stop.” “This is how I express my pain.”

Bf!Jihoon Who random Dancing Anywhere, Anytime – Grocery store? Dancing. Waiting for the bus? Dancing. Brushing his teeth? Dancing.

Bf!Jihoon Who will just flop onto you like a cat. “You’re comfy,” he mutters, completely ignoring the fact that you can’t breathe.

Bf!Jihoon Who despite all the teasing, when you need to vent, he actually listens. He won’t always give advice, but he’ll hold you, nod, and say, “That sucks, babe. Want me to fight someone?”

Bf!Jihoon Who if someone flirts with you, he acts unbothered but later starts dramatically sighing. “Guess I should start working out more… seems like I have competition now…”

Bf!Jihoon Who doesn’t Say ‘I Love You’ Often, but Shows It – He’ll text you “eat something healthy” and “get home safe” before saying “I love you.” But the way he hugs you, looks at you, and holds your hand? Yeah, he loves you.

[neuroticbookworm]

Rose's Day of Asks

What are some of the shows where your hyperfixation really thrived? (I have no idea if this sentence makes sense but I hope you get what I mean)

Have a great Day💜

I opened a blank doc and put this list together 3 minutes after I received this ask 10 (yes you read that right, ten) months ago, and then I let it sit in my drafts for no reason other than making myself miserable. Anyway, I woke up today and decided to release this into the wild, for.. reasons *wink wink*

Over the years of consuming media, I've observed that there are a few key factors of said media that heavily contribute to my hyperfixation brainrot:

Smart and snappy writing

Good romance arc that convinces me to believe in the couple

Treating the miscommunication trope as the plague that it is

And with that handy lil list, let’s get into it.

The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi

I binge-read Mo Dao Zu Shi or The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation during the 2023 Holiday Season, and my brain was immediately taken hostage and was not released from its grasp for several months. I then binge-watched The Untamed with @lurkingshan during the 2024 Holiday Season and promptly lost my mind yet again. For a story that handles so many nuanced characters and their complex relationships between multiple narrative threads, it coheres so well that it almost looks easy. From the politics of the xianxia world it is set in, to the decade-and-some-long romance arc between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, every part of this story is meticulously layered. Almost every character in this show evokes complicated feelings in me, and I am not gonna stop thinking about them anytime soon.

I Cannot Reach You

I’ve never felt so connected to a show as I did with I Cannot Reach You as I was watching it. It was as if the show had a direct line to my braincells, listened to exactly what I wanted from it, and then immediately obliged. Every boy in this show is so precious to me: Yamato, who tried so damn hard to confess his feelings to his best friend, no matter how many silly BL tropes tried to stop him; Kakeru, who tackled his best friend into a hug and held him in place so he can't walk away from him without talking about his feelings; Hosaka, the closest thing to a self-insert I’ve experienced in BLs, strutting around and calling these fucking boys out on their dumbassery.

This show has no patience for frustrating, overwrought trope silliness and prioritizes rooting its characters in their humanness. When Kakeru punched Yamato for trying to play a clumsy, pining romantic hero after conveniently forgetting his confession to Kakeru and then kissing him, I damn near ascended into a higher plane.

His (2020)

Oh this movie made me cry ugly tears after a long time, y’all. This movie, at its core, is about a bunch of people who tried so hard to not hurt the people they love, but ended up hurting them in the process anyway. Shun’s quiet sadness broke me. We see Nagisa in tears multiple times in this movie, always begging for forgiveness from the loved ones in his life: Shun, Rena, and Sora. Rena trying so damn hard to not let her anger, that stemmed from the trauma of being married to a closeted gay man, impact her daughter’s relationship with her dad and his partner, got me in my fucking chest. I think about the movie’s final scene where Rena tells Shun that she doesn't know how to ride a bike, at least twice a week.

Utsukushii Kare

The chokehold this show had on me for the two days I watched it, tearing my hair out in the process of trying to figure out what Hira’s and Kiyoi’s deals were, is second to none. I was completely fascinated by Hira’s idol worship of Kiyoi, and was trying so hard to understand the flavor of frustration that I could see in Kiyoi. I tried to solve Kiyoi’s face when Hira tried to commit murder like a goddamn puzzle. I went full bulletin-board-with-red-strings insane trying to figure out the inner workings of their brain. And when I finally got to The Revelation.. the scream I SCRUMPT. What a show, what a time, what an experience.

La Pluie

Ah, La Pluie, how I love you so dearly. It was one of the first BLs I watched as it aired weekly, and I had so many thoughts about it after every episode that I joined the La Pluie Meta Tsunami on Tumblr. This show consistently gave me brainrot week after week, all the way till the finale. It took the classic romance trope of soulmates, decided to deconstruct and interrogate it with its four main characters, and executed the themes flawlessly. I am still so glad that this show stuck to the courage of its convictions. And as always, here’s the link to The Great La Pluie Meta Roundup.

Theory of Love

*unleashes an evil witch laugh*

I sing praises for this show every chance I get, and most recently I did it on the latest The Conversation podcast episode. It is in that very episode that @bengiyo had a brilliant brainwave, which led to @lurkingshan conceptualizing and launching the Theory of Love: The Romcom Rewatch project at a speed that makes me fear her powers. This show is special to me for so many reasons, including being the one that made me break out of my lurker tendencies on Tumblr. I hyperfixated on this show so hard that I started *sharing my thoughts* on the Internet.

I am hoping to write many, many words for this show in the coming weeks, so lemme wrap up by highlighting how this show stands out from the rest on this list. Theory of Love has the most flaws compared to the other shows on this list. One of my main qualms with the show is that the side couples did not add to the main theme in any way, rendering them inoffensive, but ineffective additions. And yet. And yet. This show lives and will live rent-free in my head till the inevitable heat death of the world as we know it. The growth arc of Khai is one of my all-time favorites in media, and I think about it every time I see a fictional or real-life man behave as if they are deathly allergic to change. I am so excited for the rewatch project, and I can’t wait to share the thoughts that’ll be knocked loose in my head for the next 12 weeks.

Thank you so much for the ask, @my-rose-tinted-glasses, and I hope you like my extremely overdue response <3