#know your escape routes . . . [ REPLIES ]*

[mythvoiced]

@jeoseungsaja | the GBEP

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Among the many animals to hop and hunt and run about forest floors, foxes aren't exactly the strongest on the list. Take a red fox, it usually shares its habitat with bears and wolves, or even elks and deer not small enough to be prey, large enough to not be competition but certainly threat.

That's perhaps where the legend of the 'cunning fox' had come from, who knows. A small predator who knows its way around quick, small feet, who slinks and rests its chances of survival on agility, and on needing less to survive than other predators in its area much better at killing, much better at eating.

But, being so small, being so nimble, being up against competitors with larger jaws, larger paws... foxes are easily frightened, too.

At least in Yuri's case.

At least in Rang's case.

A fox' cry has been compared to the pained, terrified screeching of a female voice for good reason.

Yuri is looking at Yeo with the large eyes of a cornered animal, not of a predator who thinks itself at an advantage in a fight. Yuri doesn't believe in her prowess to fight against Yeo because she's arrogant, misguided, but because she needs to win against the bigger threat, because her survival depends on it.

Yuri doesn't stare Yeo down because she wants to take him down but because she has to get him to understand, as subconscious as the urge may be, that she will die in an attempt to remove him, if he threatens what little she has:

Rang.

Rang and her, two foxes, sœur et frère, bones exposed, hinds lame, in the woods somewhere.

She doesn't like his attitude at all. He stinks. Stinks of inhuman blood, of healing wounds, of age and expertise, he looks arrogant in her eyes, threatening for the position in Rang's life he occupies, the spot she doesn't understand. Why care about him at all? He looks like he's just waiting for the right opportunity to die.

Good.

Die.

One less thing to worry about, she thinks, with all the malice of a child who doesn't understand what death is.

I hope you die, the child says, thinking death means nothing at all, only understanding 'oh, how quickly adults pale at the word'.

Her gaze flickers between the door and him repeatedly, chewing his words over. She's not particularly witty, words mean little when she has claws and teeth, she's never used them to fight. She doesn't have a good retort, even if her eyes narrow in understanding that she's being target of mockery.

All the more reason to shoulder past him into his den.

She explores his place with her nose first, two steps in - flowery - before turning to stare at him again.

"I'm not scared. Or concerned. I'm bothered. By you. You sound like far more trouble than you're worth."

[starconchs]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐒— bakugo katsuki

pairing: pro hero bakugo katsuki x gn reader summary: when aizawa calls and asks for a personal favor, bakugo is ready to expect the worst. genre: strangers to lovers, fluff word count: ~7k warnings: mentions of stalking, nothing happens, you take care of it notes: sorry if he's ooc, take this more as a character study. just a little test to see how i feel when writing for bakugo. description of quirk left super vague, literally just a mention of it being helpful. not proofread sorry ummm rushed too

When Bakugo Katsuki gets a call from Aizawa, he doesn't know what to expect.

There's a brief moment of silence when the call connects, and Bakugo feels himself tense slightly when Aizawa does not speak immediately. He's the first to give in, gruffly greeting his former teacher and being met with nothing but a sigh in return.

"Bakugo," Aizawa starts, his tone dull and tired. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but i need you to do me a personal favor."

Another moment of silence ensues as Bakugo processes his request. He knows he can say no, but there's something about the fact that Aizawa— the man who has been through everything with him and his former classmates, fought with them and for them, and stood up for him when he was kidnapped by the League of Villains—personally calling and asking him that makes him hesitate before answering.

"Fine," he finally says, already thinking about how he's gonna tell Shitty Hair— Kirishima! he hears Mina correcting him in his head— that he might be out of commission for a few days. "What do you need me to do."

"Just show up when I tell you to," Aizawa says in response. "Maintain a high level of secrecy. Don't tell anyone where you're going. I'll send you the address. See you soon."

Aizawa hangs up before Bakugo can respond, and he mutters a series of curse words under his breath before tossing his phone into his duffel bag and leaving for his agency.

Three days later, Aizawa sends him an encrypted text.

Aizawa's text leads Bakugo to a fancy looking apartment complex close to Izuku's agency. When he knocks on the door of the apartment number provided, he's met with none other than Izuku himself.

"What are you doing here, you fucking nerd?" Bakugo asks, his words harsh and biting as he pushes past him and into the apartment.

"I invited him," Aizawa replies tiredly, trying to stop the fighting before it can begin. "This apartment and the other safe house are in the area that falls under his patrol route, so I thought it'd be a good idea to keep him in the loop."

"You're already pulling one of Japan's finest heroes off the streets for this stupid case, is it really necessary to get another involved?"

Bakugo turns when he hears someone new speak, his eyes narrowing when they land on you and an angry looking woman tapping away on her phone.

He knows who you are, used to seeing your pretty face plastered on advertisements and magazines throughout the country. You're a well known singer who dabbles in acting, someone he's tired of hearing about from the group of idiots he calls his friends. An irritated huff escapes his lips and he finds himself thinking about all the times he protected celebrities when he was still a new hero on the scene, and how they turned out to be nothing more than spoiled brats.

"You and Anya both know this case isn't stupid," Aizawa says patiently, shooting you an unreadable look. Bakugo waits to see how you react, studying you as you exchange a look with the other woman— Anya— and pull the blanket on your lap closer to you. Aizawa ignores the two of you, instead choosing to take the time to remind you, and reveal to the other heroes, what exactly he has called them there for. "There is a stalker out there following your each and every move. Do you understand that? And they've already proven that they will stop at nothing to get to you."

"I know," you say softly, your eyes never leaving Aizawa's. "But I can take care of myself. C'mon, you trained me yourself."

There's a moment of silence, and Bakugo thinks that Aizawa might give in. He's wrong.

"No. Hizashi and I have already decided that Bakugo will be keeping an eye on you for the forseeable future and he has agreed to do it. And Midoriya has agreed to keep an eye out during his patrols as well."

Bakugo waits for it. He braces himself and waits for the pettiness and childishness that he's seen displayed by other big names when they don't get what they want. He waits for the yelling, the waterworks, maybe even the sight of you throwing something at Aizawa. But it never comes.

Instead, you nod and stand before turning to face him, letting him catch a glimpse of the frown on your lips and defeat in your eyes before you bow deeply.

"I apologize for the inconvenience."

"O-oh! No, please don't bow," Izuku immediately says, waving his hands in an attempt to grab your attention. "That's not nec—"

"Don't gimme that shit," Bakugo interrupts, crossing his arms. His comment earns him a strangled noise from Izuku, but his gaze doesn't leave you. "Stand the fuck up and tell me whatever else I need to know."

He thinks he sees you biting back an amused smile at his words, but you quickly school your features before you let yourself fall back onto the couch. Aizawa lets himself settle into the seat next to you, a smile ghosting his lips when you reach for a mug of coffee on the table and hand it to him.

"It started a year ago," Aizawa begins. Anya walks around the couch, picking up a thick folder from the table and handing it to Bakugo. He starts looking through it, eyes scanning every individual item before passing it to Izuku. There's letters of varying lengths and pictures of you from all angles, accompanied by the occasional police evidence photo of what he assumes to be gifts you've received.

"I would receive sporadic letters, at first," you add, your voice tired and quiet. "We thought it was regular fanmail, y'know? But then things started getting weird. They would mention specific things that I'd do on my days off, or ask what I was making with the groceries I had delivered to my door on a certain day. They never signed them but the police confirmed that the handwriting matched, so we know it's one person."

"We assume it's one person," Anya corrects, earning a tired sigh from Aizawa. "We don't really know anything about them."

Her words cause you to furrow your brow, and you sigh softly before looking back up at the Pros. Bakugo's eyebrow raises when he comes across a hospital record for a Yamamoto Anya, and he angles it slightly to show Izuku.

"You were in the hospital?" Izuku asks softly, green eyes scanning the report before turning to face the two of you. Anya nods firmly but remains silent, crossing her arms before perching on the arm rest of the couch next to you.

"Anya's my manager, and my best friend," you explain, clasping your hands together. "As I said earlier, at first the incidents were sporadic. Then we went to the police to ask them to investigate. We don't know how, but the stalker found out and things started getting weirder. There were anonymous gifts being received to the apartment I have under a different name and I was receiving texts from an untraceable number. We still don't know who the target was, but the night of the Tokyo Music Awards, there was an attack."

"Wasn't that last week?" Izuku asks, looking through the file to find the corresponding police report. "It was all over the news. They said that some small time villain had attacked but that there had been enough Pros working security for the event and that it had been taken care of without issue."

"That's what we told them to say," Aizawa reveals. "In reality, it was targeted. We don't know if they intended to kidnap or to injure but things got out of hand and Anya was caught in the crossfire."

"The goal was probably to injure so I'd be easier to kidnap," you say, snorting in amusement when Aizawa sighs at your words.

"Who apprehended the villain?" Bakugo asks, unable to find the name on the police report.

"No one did, but I went after them," you admit. "I almost had them but they slipped into the crowd and got away. I returned to check on Anya and then Aizawa arrived and whisked me away. I've been here since."

"You were stupid enough to go after your stalker?" Bakugo growls, eyes shooting up to glare at you. You open your mouth to respond, only to get cut off by him "You trying to get fucking killed or something?"

A huff escapes his lips when he feels Izuku elbow him harshly, and the two of them turn to face you when you breathe out a laugh.

"Or something," you mutter, earning a swat to the back of the head from Anya. You grab her hand and toss it into her lap, only to turn and be met with a disappointed look from Aizawa. You wilt under his gaze, sighing in defeat and motioning for him to continue.

"The plan is to send you two to a safehouse, still within the city, while Midoriya and I investigate," Aizawa explains, pulling out a scrap of paper and handing it to Bakugo. "That's the address. Unfortunately, you can't just disappear off the face of the earth until we catch the stalker. There's still public appearances and interviews that need to be done, but you need to be hidden during these outings, Bakugo. We fear that if the stalker catches wind of the fact that we involved Pros, that might drive them to do something even more drastic."

Bakugo grunts in acknowledgement, unfurling the scrap of paper and studying the address written on it before glancing at Aizawa. "Can I show this to the nerd?"

He nods in response, and Izuku takes a moment to also memorize the address before nodding. The paper is gone within a second, a tiny, controlled explosion reducing it to ashes. Your eyebrows raise with interest at the display, and Bakugo meets your gaze with a scowl. It deepens when you don't immediately cower from his stare.

"The two of you should get going," Aizawa notes, glancing at his watch before standing and tossing a set of keys to Bakugo. You stand as well, taking a moment to stretch before plucking your cell phone from the couch cushion. You turn to Anya, giving her a smug look that makes her groan.

"You should just go ahead and cancel the rest of my appointments for the week. It would be unwise for me to go out in public before coming up with a surefire way to stay safe when out and about," your words are said a little too happily, and you nearly glow with joy when Aizawa contemplates your words before ultimately nodding in agreement. Anya gives you a scathing look, her hand tightening around her phone as you grin. "Let me know who agrees to reschedule! I hope no one's too upset."

The snicker that leaves your lips draws an unwilling smile from almost everyone in the room, and you swoop in to steal a hug from Aizawa before coming to a stop in front of the Pros. There's a bright smile on your lips that makes Izuku blush, and Bakugo scoffs audibly when you give him another bow.

"It's an honor to meet you, Deku. Thank you for doing this."

"Please! Call me Midoriya," he sputters out, cheeks still tinged pink as you turn and face Bakugo. There's a twinkle in your eye when you meet his gaze, and he feels a spark of irritation when he realizes that you don't seem to be intimidated by him.

"Well Mr. Dynamight, shall we get going?"

Bakugo's annoyance only grows when you manage to keep up with his quick strides.

No words are exchanged as you traverse the street, and Bakugo makes sure to keep an eye out as he opens the door and ushers you into the passenger seat, his hand pushing your head down roughly to keep you from smacking it on the roof of the vehicle. You slide into the car smoothly, buckling your seat belt and glancing around as you wait for Bakugo to get in. Silence engulfs the two of you once he does, and Bakugo finds himself reaching for his phone to play some music and fill the stillness. He feels a blush crawling up his neck when one of your songs plays, the new one that Kaminari insisted on listening to the other night when he drove him home after drinks.

A smirk tugs at your lips but you don't say anything about it, thankfully, and he finds a song he likes and plays it before taking off down the road. You're quietly humming along to the song he's chosen as you look out the window, and it isn't until you're halfway to your newly assigned safe house that you speak.

"I'm not, you know?"

That's the only thing you say and Bakugo makes a confused noise before he can stop himself, his hands tightening around the steering wheel in annoyance when you let out an amused laugh.

"I'm not trying to get killed," you clarify, earning a derisive snort from Bakugo in return. "I have a hero license, I was just doing what I've always been taught to do. Apprehend the villain."

Your admission catches Bakugo off guard, and he can't help but throw you a surprised look when he finally comes to a red light.

"You're a hero?" he asks, his curiosity winning him over.

"Mhm," you reply absentmindedly, still looking out the window. "Technically. I attended U.A., believe it or not, but I wasn't in the hero course. Aizawa and some other teachers trained me and he managed to pull some strings in order to have me take the licensing exam in my third year. He said it was better to have it just in case. Between us, I think he got even more overprotective after Nemuri, Midnight, passed."

Bakugo remembers attending the funeral after All for One had been defeated. It had been a deceptively happy day, sun bright and shining as the students, staff, and other heroes gathered to pay their respects to the fallen. He remembers a student standing next to Aizawa, their hand in his as he held onto what was left in the battle: her mask.

"She was my legal guardian, but she made sure to leave me under the care of someone she trusted just in case something ever happened."

And it did, goes unsaid.

Bakugo's left with more questions than before, but he refuses to give into his curiosity and actually ask. It isn't long until the two of you arrive at yet another upscale building, and hum quietly to grab his attention once more.

"Can I have your hoodie?"

"What the fuck? No!" is his immediate reply. There's an unpleasant look on his face, lips twisted up in what seems to be a cross between disgust and offense. "Why the fuck would you even ask?"

You give him an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow before holding your hand out. "Listen, call me paranoid if you want, but I think it'd be a good idea for me to hide my face as we enter the top secret safehouse."

Bakugo grumbles and curses as he slips off his sweater, pissed off at the fact that you were right. His anger only intensifies when he realizes that he didn't think about that first. You waste no time in slipping the sweater over your head, pulling the hood as far forward as it can go and slipping on a pair of sunglasses. It's only then that you slip out of the car, waiting for Bakugo to get out before heading towards the entrance.

The two of you head into the elevator, and when you reach out to press the correct button, you manage to catch a whiff of a sweet, smoky smell. You turn your head to the side as the doors close, lifting the collar to your nose to see if it came from the sweater or somewhere else.

"Are you sniffin' my fucking sweater?" Bakugo asks roughly, pulling your arm back down to your side. You let out an offended noise before wrenching out of his grasp, leaning against the wall and shooting him a withering look.

"I smelled something sweet and I was curious!" you defend yourself, tilting your head back slightly to look down at him. Bakugo feels his blood boil. "I can't believe someone like you smells so good."

"What's that supposed to mean!" he nearly yells, taking a step towards you. You don't deign to give him a response, instead slinking out from beside him when the elevator finally comes to a stop. There's no hesitation in your steps as you walk past various doors, finally coming to a stop at the end of the hallway and wiggling a key into the lock.

Bakugo trails in after you, locking the door and growling when he's met with a sweater to the face. There's an innocent smile on your face as you slip off your sunglasses, placing them down onto the coffee table before traipsing down the hallway. Bakugo starts his usual sweep around the space, making sure to send a text to Aizawa to let him know the two of you have arrived safely.

"Your bedroom is at the end of the hall," your voice calls out, earning a grunt in response. "Mine is to your left and the bathoom is across from my room. They already came and dropped our stuff off!"

Bakugo's eyes narrow when you walk back into the living room, a mass of fluff held in your arms. "What the hell is that?"

"This is Pickles!" you proclaim proudly, holding your arms out. There's a fluffy cat in your hands, and she lazily eyes Bakugo as she hangs in the air. Your smile falls when Pickles twists, jumping out from your hold and beelining towards Bakugo. "Pickles, no! I'm sorry, she's wary around strangers so I'd recommend backing away if you don't want your pants scratched."

Your words fade out towards the end of your statement, your jaw falling slack as you observe the way Pickles approaches Bakugo and proceeds to rub against him. She snakes in between his legs, meowing softly and pawing at his shoe as she waits for him to pay attention to her.

"You little attention whore," you whisper, your face twisting up in disbelief when Bakugo kneels down to pet her. He shoots you a smug smirk when she starts purring, and you feel your eye twitch when she lays down, exposing her belly. "She took forever to warm up to me. How did you do that?"

"I'm just the best," Bakugo replies cockily. "Even she knows that."

"Whatever, I'm going to take a nap. I can cook dinner later if you'd like," you say softly, reaching up to rub at your eyes.

"I can cook my own damn food," Bakugo snaps, his attention shifting to you. You breathe out a laugh.

"In that case, I think I'll turn in for the night. I'll leave my door slightly open for Pickles."

"Don't be a dumbass, you have to eat."

"I'll just get up early and cook breakfast," you shout, already disappearing from sight as you make your way to your room. "Good night Mr. Dynamight!"

"It's Bakugo," he grumbles under his breath as you duck into your room. A laugh is all he gets in response, and your room goes dark as you finally settle into bed. His attention is caught by small meow, and he sighs before picking Pickles up and petting her. She curls up against his chest, swatting at his hand and making a pleased noise when she manages to grasp it between two of her paws. He looks down at the cat, raising a brow when she decides to start gnawing on his finger.

"Just you and me hairball."

The two of you fall into an admittedly easy routine throughout the rest of the week.

Bakugo's surprised by how easy this assignment has been. He's used to stubborn celebrities demanding to be let out, complaining and whining and overall just annoying him until he snaps and curses them out. However, you're a quiet housemate, waking up early to cook breakfast for the two of you before retreating to your room for the rest of the day or lounging on the couch with Pickles. Bakugo takes it upon himself to cook dinner for the two of you, and whoever is in charge of lunch is always decided with a coin toss. He loses more often than you do.

Pickles becomes a frequent presence as well, and sometimes he wakes up to see the cat curled up peacefully on the pillow next to him. How she gets into his room, he doesn't know. When he emerges from his room in the morning with her gathered in his arms, you apologize profusely, your stare lingering on the way his lips curl up into a tiny smile when you take her from him.

You inform Bakugo early on in the week that Anya has listened to you, canceling all of your prior engagements and sending you an updated schedule for the next week. He squints when you hold your hand out, cell phone in hand as you prompt him to take it.

"Mr. Dynamight, give me your number."

"It's Bakugo," he grumbles, pushing your hand away from him. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"So I can send you the schedule," you huff, extending your arm once again. He obliges reluctantly, purposefully taking his time in an attempt to annoy you. You don't react to his provocation, instead smiling sweetly at him when he hands your phone back and sending him the file.

When you begin to send him memes, he refuses to acknowledge you for the day.

The two of you spend days successfully planning how to keep you safe during your public appearances, your combined experience making the task easier than you thought it'd be. Your first week back out in public goes well, and even though you know better than to let your guard down, the knowledge that Pro Hero Dynamight is watching you from a distance helps to soothe your nerves. Your routine remains the same for the following week, during which there is an incident, but it turns out to be an overexcited fan. You then beg and beg Anya to book less appearances until she gets fed up with your fake crying.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you hate your job," Bakugo mutters one evening while making dinner. "You keep brushing off all your stupid engagements and you won't have a fucking career to go back to."

"Good thing you know better," you say playfully, your eyes glinting with mischief as you approach him. Your arm brushes against his back as you peek around him, your hand darting out to grab a slice of the strawberries he's cutting up to eat with lunch. He's too slow to stop you, not that he really tries to.

He finds that his original irritation towards the assignment has faded, and even though he misses being out on patrol and taking down bad guys, he thinks that this mission isn't the worst. Or maybe it's because of you. It takes Bakugo weeks to admit to himself that you're not as bad as he thought you'd be. In fact, you're not anything like what he expected you to be, all sly smiles and snarky words and casual touches that he's too embarrassed to reciprocate. But he doesn't like you, no, he doesn't.

You like to think he's getting used to your presence, but his occasional aloofness makes you think otherwise. There's a part of you, the side that's trying to ignore the reason that resulted in being assigned to a safe house in the first place, that enjoys your time spent with Bakugo. You like the way he's so easy to rile up, the way he carefully plates food for both of you, and the way he smiles when Pickles demands his attention. You think that maybe, just maybe, you might like him, even if everything else about his attitude makes you think he doesn't even tolerate you.

But you're too preoccupied with your ongoing case to really sit with your thoughts and try to sort out your feelings.

Updates from Aizawa and Midoriya are few and far between, and although you and Bakugo have fallen into a comfortable routine, you can tell that he's getting fed up with the situation. His restlessness is obvious, especially with the news talking nonstop about his sudden disappearance and speculating on the reasons why Dynamight might've stopped doing his duty as a hero.

"How long do you think this will continue?" you ask one night, sneaking a peek at him and waiting for his snarky reply.

"I dunno," he responds, sounding defeated. He sighs heavily and turns the television off.

He watches as you purse your lips and reach for his hand, pausing when he instinctively pulls away. There's a brief pause before you take a deep breath and let your hand fall on the sofa. He glances at you, eyes scanning your face as you keep staring at the blank screen, and lets his head fall back and eyes fall shut as he mentally berates himself for his actions. You head off to bed soon after, and Bakugo remains there for the rest of the night.

The next morning is quieter than usual, and the two of you are eating breakfast when there's a knock on the door. You waste no time in prancing to the entrance, reaching for the doorknob before a large hand grabs your wrist.

"Don't open the fucking door," he hisses, pulling your hand down. You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head in an innocent manner.

"Why not? It's only Midoriya."

"What?"

You reach over and open the door with your other hand, only to be met with a sunny smile from none other than Pro Hero Deku.

"Kacchan!" he exclaims, brightening up even more at the sight of his childhood friend. "I'm here to swap."

"What?" Bakugo bites out again. Midoriya's smile falters.

"Uh, swap. Places, I mean," he explains, smiling when he looks back at you. "I thought you said he asked?"

"Asked what?" Bakugo growls, his hand tighetning slightly around your arm.

"Yeah! He did," you respond just as cheerily. Bakugo goes ignored.

"Hey! Listen to me when I fucking talk to ya!"

"Come on in, we were just eating breakfast. Would you like any?" you ask. Midoriya shakes his head and you promptly wiggle your arm out of Bakugo's grasp and usher them into the living room.

"What is the shitty nerd doing here?" Bakugo yells, fed up with the situation.

"He's here to take your spot! Remember, Mr. Dynamight ?"

"I already told you, it's Bakugo," he snarls, eyes narrowing as they fall onto you. Your smile is unfaltering and equally as sunny as Izuku's was when he first arrived. He spares a glace at the other Pro Hero in the room, taking note of the way he nervously wrings his hands as he studies the two of you. He doesn't excuse himself before taking ahold of your arm once again, dragging you down the hallway and into his room before slamming the door.

You take a moment to glance around his room, your eyes narrowing when you spot Pickles curled up on his bed, before finally meeting his eyes. There's a fire in his eyes that you've only seen before when he's mid-battle, reserved for situations where his anger is at an all time high. You meet his gaze evenly, and he seems to calm down slightly when make a questioning noise.

"What the fuck was all that about?" he asks harshly, his voice low in order to not be overheard. The walls are thin, he knows this.

"I thought you'd like to return to your hero duties," you say coolly. "Y'know, patrolling and beating up baddies."

"Listen, when I agree to a job I don't plan on doing it half-assed," he retorts. He wonders if your sudden encouragement for him to leave has to do with his actions night before… and the rest of the week. He knows it does. "You're stuck with me, sweetheart, whether you like it or not. So get out there and tell Deku that you changed your mind and that I'll be seeing this task until the very end."

You don't move for a few seconds, and Bakugo's eyebrows furrow in confusion until he realizes the way you bashfully averted your gaze at the nickname. The corner of his lip tugs up into a smirk, but he doesn't get the chance to comment on it before you start speaking.

"Your reputation and ranking are tanking because of this and it's not very fair to you. Besides, nothing has happened in weeks. No letters, no gifts, no suspicious activity. I'm sure it'd be fine to switch spots with Midoriya for a couple of days. And I thought you were getting a little tired of staying in here all day. Maybe getting out and seeing your friends would do you some good."

Bakugo takes a deep breath before closing his eyes. "I already told you, I'm not leaving you until this assignment is done. Go out there, and tell Deku you changed your fucking mind."

"Yeah, about that," you say, your tone of voice causing Bakugo's eyes to fly open. There's impish smile on your face, and Bakugo feels a sense of foreboding as you speak your next words. "I might've told him that you requested the swap. So really, it's you that has to go out there and tell him you changed your mind."

You laugh and head back to the living room before Bakugo can yell at you, smiling softly at Midoriya before heading to the kitchen to clean up the abandoned plates.

Bakugo groans and begrudgingly heads to the living room, dragging Izuku by his collar and leading him to the front door.

He shuts the door in his face and provides no explanation.

Things are different after that.

Bakugo makes a bigger effort to interact with you, spending move evenings by your side instead of keeping his distance. Slowly but surely you begin to notice, and you can't help but wonder if this has anything to do with your discussion in his room the previous week.

You try not to show that you're flustered when the two of you begin to cook together instead of taking turns, and you have to admit that sharing the kitchen with Bakugo is intimate in a way you never knew cooking with somebody else could be. His movements are always fluid, never hesitant, and you find that you fall into a groove when you work alongside him.

The space is full of teasing and grumbling as well, and you find that fleeting touches between the two of you start to become more common. There's the occassional hip check when he tries to steal a piece of whatever you're chopping, and the occasional hand skimming your lower back when he tries to get past you in order to reach something. You tend to go rigid under his touch, and Bakugo finds that he starts doing it a little more often in order to hear the way your breath hitches when his fingertips skim over your shirt. He's thinks he likes you.

You’ve had the time to sit with your feelings, all the swirling uncertainty and aching that you feel weighing down on your heart when you see Bakugo present you with a new dish or scoop Pickles up when she won't stop pawing at his leg. Bakugo Katsuki is so perfectly imperfect, and you think that there's no one in the world who is privileged enough to get to see every single side of him that he has unintentionally and intentionally bared for you to see in your short time living together. You find that it is much easier to come to the conclusion that yes, you do like him. You think you might even love him.

You don't get the chance to wonder if he likes you as well before it all goes to hell.

It's a few days later, on a sunny Wednesday, that you finally come face to face with your stalker.

"Alright, you have one more meeting after this and then we can get you back home," Anya says, hurrying you you of the building you were in and towards the car. You mumble something under your breath, holding your sweater tightly to your body to protect yourself against the afternoon chill. Anya stops by your side when you stumble to a halt, and you quickly grab onto her when you hear something approaching quickly. "What's going on?"

You waste no time in pulling her back, something— someone, you vaguely think— crashing into the spot where you had just been standing.

"What the fuck?" Anya whispers, taking in the sight before you. There's a man standing in front of you, close to your age and surrounding by dark tendrils. His sharp, green eyes slide from Anya to you, and he breaks out into a smile before taking a step forward. Anya places herself in front of you, blocking you from his view and earning a harsh glare from the man. "Get the hell away from us."

You quickly scan your surroundings for any sign of Bakugo, and even though you know he's close by, you can't help but feel a little anxious when he doesn't immediately show up. A movement in your peripheral catches your attention, and you tighten your hold on Anya and dive out of the way before one of the dark tendrils shoots out and incapacitates her. The two of you crash into the side of the car, and you waste no time in opening the door and shoving her inside.

"Stay there!" you tell her, motioning for her to stop trying to open the door.

"No!" she argues, her shouts muffled by the window. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just trust me," you say reassuringly. Anya hesitates before nodding, her hands falling to her side.

"Stay safe. You better not get fucking hurt!"

You nod once, taking a glance to see your stalker getting closer before you take off in a sprint in the direction you know Bakugo is. You whip your phone out, sending quick 'SOS' to Aizawa before turning a corner. You don't bother sending your location, knowing he's probably been tracking you for years.

The sound of footsteps following you only spurs you on, and you try to think of a game plan to deal with the situation in a safe manner before you feel something wrap around your wrist. You come to a sudden stop when the tendril pulls you back, and you let out a cry when you stumble and fall to the ground, your knees knocking harshly against the concrete.

"I've been looking for you for so long," the man breathes, kneeling down to take your hand in his. You resist the urge to tear it away from him, conscious of the way the tendril seems to loosen when you relax. "I finally found you, we can finally be together."

You take a moment to study him, trying to gather your thoughts before responding. Your voice is light as you speak, and you lean forwards slightly in an attempt to make it seem like you're giving in. "We can. But you're hurting me, you know? You're quite strong, I can't believe I didn't realize it soon."

He takes the bait, retracting the tendril and almost glowing at the words that leave your lips. His lips part to respond and you waste no time in head butting him hard enough to send him sprawling. You hop to your feet, stumbling briefly when your bruised knees almost give out, but you manage to keep your balance and dodge the tendril your stalker attacks with.

"You bitch!" he screams, earning an eye roll from you as he tries to grab ahold of you once more. "I don't know why you're doing this when it's clear we're meant to be together!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you say under your breath, lunging forwards to land a hit. He defends poorly, and you think that his strange obsession with you has come in handy when he refuses to strike back in fear of hurting you.

When Bakugo lands on the sidewalk in front of you mere seconds later, he's met with the sight of your stalker face down on the ground, unconscious and with hands creatively tied behind his back with your sweater as you stare at him smugly. A tired laugh leaves Bakugo's lips and he wastes no time in removing the sweater, slapping on a pair of quirk canceling handcuff onto your stalker and moving to lean him up against the building behind you.

"Took you long enough," you chirp, earning a glare from Bakugo.

"I can't believe you were stupid enough to go after your stalker," he states, his words reminiscent of the ones he said when he first met you. "Actually, scratch that. Yeah, I fucking can."

"Well it's not like you were doing anything," you retort, crossing your arms. "Where were you?"

"I had it under control," he barks, motioning to the area around you. You take note of Midoriya standing on a rooftop, a couple of detectives scattered down the street as they wait for Bakugo's all clear.

"Oh!"

"What happened here?"

You turn when you see Aizawa approaching, eyes tired but alert as they scan you for injuries. You beam at him, pointing towards the unsconscious criminal before gesturing to yourself to show that you're fine, other than your bruised knees. "See! I told you I could handle myself."

"Yes, I suppose you did," is all he says before turning to Bakugo. He's caught off guard when Aizawa bows deeply. "I'm eternally thankful, Bakugo. You did a great job, even if it turned out we didn't need your help after all."

The last statement is said mockingly, and you pout when Aizawa shoots you a pointed look. You ignore it in favor of turning to Bakugo, bowing as well.

"I already told you, don't gimme that shit," he spits out, crossing his arms when you straighten up and give him a shit-eating grin.

"I just wanted to give you my thanks," you say, a teasing lilt to your voice as you take a step forward. Aizawa grunts before walking away, shaking his head as he goes. "Although I suppose that there are other—"

"You're safe!"

Anya's screams interrupt you, and you give Bakugo an apologetic look as she pulls you away, fussing over you and bending down to clean off your knees. You smile fondly as she shoves a water bottle into your hand, stealing one last glance at Bakugo before he's whisked away by the detectives to make a statement.

A week passes and Bakugo hasn't stopped thinking about you.

He wonders how often he'd get to see you now that he's not watching over you, grimacing when he realizes that he'd probably only see you at hero galas and community fundraisers that might overlap with both of your schedules. The two of you have exchanged a few messages since the mission ended, lot of memes being sent from your end that make Bakugo laugh, not that he'd ever admit it.

He's wondering if he should build up the courage to be more direct with you, to possibly follow up on how you could thank him and then ask you out on a date when he hears a knock on his door.

"Hey!" you greet him when he opens the door, bright smile on your face as you shove a bag into his hands. "I hope you don't mind but I got your address form Aizawa. I was thinking I could cook you dinner, you know, as a thank you."

His jaw is hanging as he takes you in, and you snicker when he doesn't respond.

"Hey, what's wrong? Pickles got your tongue?" you laugh at your own joke, and Bekugo snaps his jaw shut at the words, ushering you in and shutting the door behind you.

"That was a shitty joke."

"Eh, can't expect everyone to get my sense of humor."

He shakes his head fondly as he follows you into his kitchen, and you take the bag you previously pushed into his arms and place it on the counter. You look at him expectantly raising an eyebrow teasingly as he takes a step closer.

"So this dinner,” he starts, tone casual as he drinks you in. “Is it a date?"

"Do you want it to be?" you respond. Your voice is quiet and light, and he finds himself crowding you against the counter, arms on either side of you as he cages you in. You're vaguely reminded of the time the two of you argued in his room at the safe house, the only difference being the look in his eyes. Where there was anger that day, this time you see nothing but an unfamiliar tenderness, eyes warm as he mulls his answer over.

"Yeah," he says roughly, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you look at him in mild surprise. "I do want it to be."

“I didn’t think you’d admit it,” you retort. The smile he receives in return is almost blinding, but he feels that familiar sense of foreboding when you suddenly give him a coy look and wrap your arms around his neck.

"So... does this mean I'm... Mrs. Dynamight?" you ask innocently.

"Shut the fuck up," he groans before finally leaning down to silence your giggles with a kiss.

ty for reading <3

[beloveds-embrace]

(poly 141 x sick!reader)

The sound of rain pattered against the windows, soft and soothing, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the ache in your chest. The medication was doing its best, but there was only so much it could do when your body seemed determined to work against you.

You coughed softly into your sleeve, hating the weak tremor that followed. The plush comforter was tucked up to your chin, but warmth still felt just out of reach. Your parents had hired the team months ago after receiving one too many threats, and while you had initially bristled at the idea of four men shadowing your every step, you’d quickly grown accustomed to their presence.

It was hard not to.

Captain Price had a steady, grounding aura that made you feel safer just by being near him. Ghost was quieter, more intense, but he’d surprised you with unexpected softness when he thought no one was looking. Soap’s humor had carved through your anxieties more times than you could count, and Gaz- Gaz was the one who always made sure you ate, drank water, and had everything you needed before you even realized you needed it.

They made you feel protected.

But tonight, even their presence couldn’t completely chase away the unease creeping up your spine.

“Not sleeping, love?”

Price’s voice startled you, and you turned toward the door to see him leaning against the frame, arms crossed but eyes soft. He stepped inside, his boots surprisingly quiet on the polished floor, and came to kneel beside your bed.

“Sorry,” you murmured, feeling guilt curl in your chest. “Didn’t mean to keep you up.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, brushing his knuckles against your forehead to check for fever. “You know we don’t sleep unless you do.”

Before you could reply, a soft knock came at the door, and Soap poked his head in, carrying a cup of tea that was no doubt brewed exactly the way you liked it.

“You’re awake,” he said with a grin, stepping inside and offering you the mug. “Figured you might need this.”

You took it gratefully, inhaling the scent of chamomile and honey. “You don’t have to keep fussing over me,” you said, though the words lacked any real bite.

Gaz wandered in next before they could reply to you, holding the blanket you liked most. “Yeah, we do,” he countered easily. “Doctor’s orders, remember?”

Ghost was the last to arrive, silent as always, but he lingered closest to the door like a sentinel. Even with his mask that once scared you, you could see the way his eyes softened when they landed on you.

The four of them surrounded you, and despite the lingering ache in your bones, you felt safe.

You set the mug down once it was half-empty, already feeling your eyelids grow heavier. Price pulled the blanket up higher, tucking it around you like he had so many times before.

“Close your eyes.” He murmured.

“I don’t want to-”

“You’re safe,” Ghost said quietly, his voice a low rumble that you felt more than heard. “We’ll be here.”

It was hard to fight the pull of sleep when all four of them were so close, their combined presence lulling you into something warm and soft and safe. You let your eyes drift shut, your breathing slowing as the tea worked its magic.

They stayed until they were sure you were asleep.

The first noise was subtle.

Ghost’s head snapped up, and Price immediately rose from his spot beside the bed. Soap and Gaz exchanged a glance, already moving toward the door without a word.

It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to get inside. And it wouldn’t be the last.

Price leaned down, pressing a hand against your shoulder when you stirred faintly. ��Stay asleep, love.” He whispered before following the others out.

The house was dark, but that didn’t slow them down. Ghost moved like a shadow, his knife already drawn as he signaled to Soap. They caught the first man before he even had the chance to react.

Gaz was quieter, slipping down the hall and cutting off the second intruder’s escape route. The scuffle was quick, brutal, and over in seconds.

Price handled the last one himself. The man barely had time to raise his weapon before Price’s fist collided with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“Clear.” Ghost murmured, wiping his knife clean on the intruder’s jacket.

Soap crouched down, checking for identification, and then sighing when he found it. “Same group as last time.”

Price cursed under his breath, already reaching for his phone to call the cleanup team and your parents.

“They won’t make it upstairs.” Gaz said, voice steady despite the adrenaline still thrumming through his veins.

“They never will.” Ghost added, tone final.

They worked quickly, dragging the bodies out the back while Soap wiped down any lingering traces of blood. By the time they returned to your room, the house was silent again.

You woke to find the bed empty and the dim glow of the hallway light bleeding under the door.

Pushing back the covers, you slipped out of bed and padded toward the stairs. You weren’t sure what you expected to find- maybe one of them sitting at the kitchen table or keeping watch by the windows- but instead, you were met with Price coming up the steps.

“Hey,” you said softly, rubbing your eyes.

He froze for a split second before schooling his features into something softer, too fast for your mind or eyes to catch. “What are you doing out of bed, love? You need your rest.”

“Couldn’t sleep, John.” You admitted, hugging your arms around yourself. A tremor goes through you, the warmth from your bed and blankets ebbing away slowly.

Gaz appeared behind him, stepping around to stand in front of you. “You’re supposed to be resting, dovie. Come on.” He repeated, gently taking your hand and guiding you back toward the bedroom.

“Why were you all up?” you asked, glancing between them with a concerned. “It’s too late for all of you, no? I know you work in shifts but today wasn’t like that…”

Soap appeared next, a towel slung over his shoulder. “Routine check,” he said smoothly, face softening when he looked at you. “Jus’ making sure everything’s locked up. Yer so sweet, hen, but we know how ta do our jobs, dinna worry yer pretty head.”

“Again?”

“Can’t be too careful,” Price said, his hand resting lightly on your back as they guided you back to bed.

Ghost slipped back into the room last, silent as ever, though his eyes softened the moment they landed on you. He didn’t speak right away, just took a long, careful look as if reassuring himself that you were still there- still safe. Finally, he stepped closer, his voice low and steady as he said, “Back under the covers, love.”

You didn’t fight him. You never did. Not with them.

The bed was warm, the blankets heavier now as Gaz tugged them up higher, making sure you were fully tucked in. Soap lingered by the nightstand, placing the freshly cleaned mug of tea from earlier far away enough even if you moved in your sleep, it wouldn’t fall off.

“Try again,” Price murmured, lowering himself to sit beside you. His calloused fingers brushed your hair back, slow and gentle, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

You blinked up at him, tired but trusting. You still didn’t know when exactly it had happened- when you’d stopped flinching at the closeness, stopped second-guessing the comfort they so freely gave. But you’d never regretted letting them in.

Not when it felt like this.

“We’re right here.” Price added, his voice a quiet promise, and you felt the words settle deep, anchoring you.

Soap crouched at the side of the bed, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. “Sweet dreams, bonnie.” He said with a grin, though his voice was soft enough to soothe the lingering tension in your chest.

Gaz gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his thumb brushing lightly over the blanket. “We’ve got you.”

Ghost stayed by the door, his sharp gaze fixed on the windows before flickering back to you. He didn’t move until your breathing evened out, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle into something steady. Only then did he step out, closing the door with deliberate care.

But even once the door was shut, he lingered in the hall, his fingers resting on the handle as if to reassure himself that he could open it in an instant if you needed him. He waited, just to be sure, before finally moving away.

“She’s sleeping,” he murmured once he joined the others downstairs. His voice was quieter than usual. “Checked her breathing- still steady.”

“She needs rest,” Gaz said, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Nights like these don’t help.”

“They won’t happen again.” Ghost said, firm and low

Soap exhaled sharply, rubbing at his jaw with the rag he’d been using to wipe his hands clean. “She disnnae need ta know.” he murmured, the words heavier than the rest.

“No,” Ghost agreed, his voice low but certain. “All she should have to worry about is resting.”

Gaz leaned against the wall, his arms crossed but his eyes lingering on the stairs. “She’s safe,” softly, he spoke. “That’s all that matters.”

And they all nodded in quiet agreement.

Ghost checked the locks one last time, Price double-checked the security feeds, and Soap peered through the curtains before returning to his spot near the stairwell. Gaz made another sweep of the house, moving silently through the dark before settling in by the living room window.

The rain picked up outside, heavier now, but inside the house, the warmth lingered. It was safe. Quiet. What you needed, and what your parents had hired them to ensure for you.

And upstairs, you slept soundly- soft breaths filling the room, wrapped in blankets that smelled faintly of fresh laundry and tea, surrounded by the presence of men who would tear apart anyone who dared to disturb you.

Sheltered in their arms, you never even stirred.

[luna-azzurra]

Ways I Show a Character Who's So Used to Being Betrayed, They Expect It From Everyone

Trust issues aren't always loud. Sometimes they show up in quiet, brutal little habits that scream, "I don't believe anyone actually has my back." It’s not drama. It’s survival.

They assume every compliment has a hidden insult stapled to it. You say "You're amazing," and they hear "for now" echoing in the silence afterward.

They never believe good news at face value. Promotion at work? Must be a setup. Someone loves them? They're just saying that to get something. They treat joy like a suspicious email from a Nigerian prince.

They constantly have backup plans. Backup friends. Backup escape routes. Backup excuses. You think they're chill on that coffee date, but mentally, they've already figured out how to bolt if things go south.

They apologize before anything even happens. "Sorry if this is annoying!" "Sorry if I'm being weird!" "Sorry if existing is a burden!" They’re trying to soften the blow they’re sure is coming.

They test people—subtly. Saying something half-vulnerable just to see if you’ll use it against them. Canceling plans last minute to see if you’ll still call. They don’t even know they're doing it half the time.

They make self-deprecating jokes before you can. If they call themselves trash first, it won't sting as bad when you inevitably agree. (Their logic, not reality.)

They hesitate before trusting anyone with even small things. You ask "Hey, want me to grab you a coffee?" and they look at you like you just offered them a cursed artifact.

They act like they don't need anyone. Rugged Individualist vibes. But it’s a costume. Underneath, they’re just someone who got tired of needing people who didn’t stick around.

They overthink every interaction. You took too long to reply? You hate them. Your text was shorter than usual? You’re planning your exit strategy. Trust is a game of walking on knives blindfolded.

They expect betrayal so hard that when it doesn't happen, they almost don't know how to exist. Happiness? Stability? Kindness? It feels fake. They're waiting for the other shoe to drop—except it's not a shoe. It's a whole goddamn meteor.

[winterlico]

PAWS & PROMISES ᰔ sim jaeyun .ᐟ

ᯓ★ pairing : college!Jake x fem!reader / fluff , teasing , Jake doesn't have a dog , soft , first date ᝰ.ᐟ

9.9O6 ｡ when Jake, a college student, stumbles into an animal shelter to escape boredom, he unexpectedly finds not just a passion for volunteering, but a deep connection with you.

feedbacks ୨୧ reblogs / 사랑 ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You’re wiping down a row of kennels, the soft clinks of your cleaning supplies filling the quiet room. The shelter is peaceful today, save for the occasional shuffle of paws against the floor or the faint mew of a kitten in the back. It’s a typical Tuesday, but today something feels a little different. You don’t know why yet, but as you finish up with the last kennel and move to the next one, a light breeze drifts in through the cracked window, and you catch a glimpse of a figure passing by outside.

A guy, probably in his early twenties, strolling leisurely down the street. He’s wearing a simple hoodie, dark jeans, and some worn sneakers, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. Nothing too remarkable about his outfit, but there’s something about the way he walks—easy, confident, like he’s got nowhere to be, no rush at all. And then, like a switch, you see it. He stops. Looks up at the shelter. Then he hesitates.

That hesitation doesn’t last long. He’s already making his way towards the door, pushing it open and stepping inside.

You look up as he enters, offering a quick, friendly smile. "Hi! Can I help you with something?"

He freezes at the sound of your voice, clearly caught off guard. For a moment, he looks like he's considering an escape route, but something in the air keeps him rooted to the spot. He scratches the back of his neck nervously, then glances around the shelter. "Uh, yeah, I was just, uh, walking by, and I saw the sign..."

He trails off, his words coming a little awkwardly, and it only makes him seem more endearing. He shifts on his feet, finally meeting your gaze. "I... I love animals. I thought I’d stop by."

His voice, though soft, has a sincerity to it, and the more he talks, the more his nervous energy becomes apparent. You can tell he’s trying to play it cool, but there’s a slight tremble in his hands as they move from his pockets. His eyes flicker briefly to the puppies resting in their cages. “I... uh, I’ve never been to a shelter before, actually.”

You can’t help but chuckle softly. “Well, you’re in the right place. It’s kind of hard not to love them. Are you looking to adopt?”

The question seems to take him by surprise, and he flounders for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "I... uh, not exactly. I just wanted to see them," he admits with a small shrug, his gaze softening as he looks at the animals again. "I’m not sure I’m ready for a pet yet. But, um... yeah, I just wanted to stop by. See what it’s all about."

His shyness is becoming almost palpable now, but there's something charming about it. You nod, guiding him a little closer to one of the cages where a small puppy is playfully wagging its tail. “This little guy’s got a lot of energy, if you want to say hi.”

Jake steps closer, a little hesitant at first, but the moment the puppy spots him, it leaps up to the bars of the cage, eager to greet him. Jake’s eyes widen, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he crouches down to get a better look at the dog. The little pup’s excitement seems to calm Jake’s nerves, and he lets out a soft laugh, his hand hovering near the cage bars, unsure if he should touch the puppy.

“I’ve never had a dog before,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a little vulnerability. “I always thought I’d be a terrible pet owner.”

You observe him carefully, noting the way he carefully studies the dog. It’s clear he doesn’t want to come off as clumsy or unprepared, but it’s also obvious he’s truly interested. “Well, nobody’s perfect,” you reply with a smile, leaning against the counter. “It’s all about patience. And a little bit of love.”

Jake’s eyes flicker to you, as though surprised by how natural your words feel, and for a moment, the nervousness fades completely from his face. “I think I could do that,” he murmurs, still watching the puppy. “I mean, I’d want to. I just don’t know if I’m ready to take care of one yet.”

You can’t help but feel a little amused, a little warm inside, as you watch his hesitance slowly dissolve into something more comfortable. “That’s totally fine. It’s not about being perfect from the start. If you want to come back and hang out with the animals, we’d love to have you.”

Jake’s face brightens, and he stands up from his crouched position, his eyes still glancing between you and the dog. He hesitates again, this time looking down at the floor before lifting his gaze back up to you, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “I could come back? And, uh... maybe I could bring some treats for the pups next time? I mean, if that’s okay?”

You grin, finding his shy enthusiasm utterly endearing. “Of course, you can. The animals would love that.”

He looks almost relieved, his tension easing the more you talk. “Okay, cool. I’ll, uh... I’ll definitely come back then.” Then, he offers a slight, bashful smile, rubbing the back of his neck again like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “By the way... I’m Jake. I didn’t even introduce myself. Sorry about that.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “No problem, Jake. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jake’s smile widens at your response, and as he steps back toward the door, he gives you one last look, almost like he’s not sure when he’ll be back, but he’s definitely coming. “Thanks. I’ll, uh, be around soon. Promise.”

And with that, he leaves, the door closing softly behind him. You find yourself standing there, a small smile playing at your lips as you watch him walk away, the shy, nervous guy who just might become a regular around here. And strangely, that thought makes your heart beat a little faster.

It’s not every day that someone like Jake stumbles into your shelter.

The following week, you’re standing by the front desk when you hear the familiar sound of the doorbell chime. You turn, expecting to see the usual shelter visitors—families, curious locals—but what catches your attention this time is the group of three young men stepping into the room.

Jake’s there, of course. His hoodie is the same, but there’s a more noticeable confidence in the way he holds himself today. But what makes you pause is the two guys flanking him—one with sleek dark hair and the other with a slightly messier style, their presence so casual, yet purposeful. They both glance around with interest, taking in the surroundings, but it’s clear they’re not just here for the animals.

“Hey, princess,” Jake greets you first, his voice a bit more confident today, though you notice the way his gaze flickers to his friends, who are clearly waiting for him to say something more.

You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at him, but before you can respond, one of the guys—Jay, you recognize him now from his previous description—steps forward with a smirk. “We’re guessing you’re the reason Jake’s been talking about this place nonstop,” Jay says, crossing his arms and looking you over with a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckle softly, shifting your attention to the newcomer. “Oh? Jake’s been talking about the shelter?” you ask, keeping your tone light and teasing, glancing at Jake who, predictably, looks a little sheepish at the attention.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon, the one with the slick dark hair, chimes in, his voice smooth but with a hint of amusement. “And apparently he’s got a soft spot for dogs now. Says he’s been spending his free time here.” He glances at Jake with a grin, then back at you. “We were curious. Figured we’d check it out.”

Jake’s face flushes a soft pink, and he scratches the back of his neck nervously. "I might’ve... mentioned you a few times," he mutters, his voice growing softer the more he speaks. “And the shelter.” He looks at his friends with a slight frown, his ears turning red as if embarrassed by the fact that they’re all here, following him into this space.

You can't help but laugh quietly, watching him squirm just a little. “Well, I’m glad you brought them along, Jake.” You shoot him a playful wink, then turn to the other two. “And it’s nice to meet you both—Jay, Sunghoon, right?”

Jay gives you a nod, stepping forward to shake your hand. “Yeah, that’s us,” he says smoothly, his eyes lingering just a little too long on you, making you wonder if Jake’s been telling them more than just stories about the animals. His gaze flickers briefly to Jake, and you catch the hint of a teasing smile forming on Jay’s lips.

Sunghoon steps up next, his smile easygoing and warm. “It’s nice to finally meet you, too. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

The way his words seem to linger in the air makes you wonder just how much Jake has shared, but before you can ask, Jake steps in, shifting on his feet nervously. “Okay, okay, you guys don’t need to embarrass me,” he mutters, his face still flushed as he glances between his friends. “We came here to, um... look at the animals, right?”

You chuckle at Jake’s discomfort, but there’s something about it that’s endearing. The fact that his friends are here because of him—it’s like he’s giving you a glimpse into a side of him that’s softer, maybe even a little more vulnerable.

“Well,” you say, “we’ve got a few puppies up for adoption right now. And a couple of cats if you’re more of a cat person.” You motion for them to follow you as you lead them toward the back of the shelter where the dogs are housed.

As you walk, Jake falls in line beside you, his friends trailing behind, their curious glances flickering toward him as if they’re waiting for him to say something. But Jake is oddly quiet, his usual playful self a little more subdued today. He keeps glancing at you, and every time you catch his eye, his cheeks flush a little deeper.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were so into animals, Jake,” Sunghoon teases from behind, his voice light, almost as if he’s enjoying seeing Jake in this new light.

Jake groans softly, but there’s no real annoyance in his voice. “Stop it, Sunghoon. I told you, I’m just here to see the animals. That’s all.” He rubs the back of his neck again, like the simple motion could somehow erase the fact that his friends know a little too much about him.

You smile to yourself, finding his nervousness oddly endearing. It’s clear he’s not used to being the center of attention like this, especially not when it involves you. But as the group reaches the first kennel, where a small puppy is playing around, Jake’s expression brightens, and he almost forgets his discomfort as he crouches down to get a closer look.

“There you go, that’s more like it,” Jay comments with a knowing grin, watching Jake interact with the puppy. “I think you might be falling for them, huh?”

Jake doesn’t respond immediately, too focused on the playful dog that’s now licking his hand, but after a few seconds, he finally looks up, his face still flushed but his eyes softer. “Maybe,” he admits, his voice quiet. Then, turning to you, he says, “This little guy’s... kind of perfect, isn’t he?”

You nod, heart warming at the sight of Jake so relaxed, surrounded by the animals he’s been telling his friends about. “He really is.”

As you continue the tour, you can feel the subtle shift in the atmosphere—Jake, now more comfortable with his friends around, still seems a little more focused on you than before. He occasionally glances your way, a small smile tugging at his lips whenever you catch his eye. His friends, meanwhile, are more than happy to watch the interaction unfold, a mix of curiosity and amusement in their gazes.

By the time the tour wraps up and you’re all heading toward the door, Jake’s demeanor is back to his usual playful self, though there’s still that slight hesitation when he looks at you. Before he leaves, he gives you a shy smile, his voice quiet but filled with a newfound confidence. “I’ll... I’ll be back, for sure. And I’ll bring more treats next time. For the dogs... and, uh, for you, too, if you want.”

You laugh softly, feeling the light flutter in your chest at his words. “Sounds good, Jake. I’ll be here.”

As the door closes behind them, you’re left with a lingering sense of warmth in your chest. You’ve just met his friends, but it’s clear that Jake’s started something here—not just with the animals, but with you, too.

And as for Jake? Well, it seems like he’s not just talking about the shelter anymore.

The late afternoon sun casts a golden hue over the shelter as you finish organizing a few adoption forms at the front desk. The day has been relatively quiet, save for a couple of visitors earlier, but for the most part, it’s just you, the animals, and the steady hum of the ceiling fan overhead.

Then, the doorbell chimes.

You glance up, already expecting a visitor, but what you don’t expect is him.

Jake strides in, his movements fluid and purposeful, a stark contrast to the nervous, fidgety boy who had first stumbled through the doors a week ago. There’s no hesitance in the way he enters this time—no awkward pauses, no stammering greetings. He spots you immediately, a slow grin tugging at his lips, and something about the way he looks at you makes your breath hitch for half a second.

"Hey, princess," he greets smoothly, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as he stops in front of the counter. "Miss me?"

You raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the way your heart flutters at his sudden confidence. This is new. "Oh? You actually came back alone this time," you tease, crossing your arms. "What, your bodyguards didn’t want to tag along today?"

Jake chuckles, leaning against the counter with an easy smirk. "Nah, they wanted to, but I figured they were getting in the way last time." He tilts his head slightly, gaze unwavering as he looks at you. "I thought today, it should just be me and you."

You blink. The smoothness in his voice, the lack of hesitation—it throws you off in the best way possible. This is not the same Jake who stumbled over his words and avoided eye contact.

You clear your throat, deciding not to let him have too much control of the conversation. "Oh? And here I thought you were coming for the animals, not me," you muse, feigning innocence as you turn to grab a treat bag from the counter.

Jake exhales a quiet laugh, tilting his head slightly, and it’s almost unfair how good he looks with that knowing glint in his eyes. "I mean, yeah," he says, shrugging, "but who says I can’t enjoy both?"

Your fingers pause slightly over the treat bag before you shake your head with an amused chuckle. This guy. "Alright, smooth talker. What’s the plan today? Here to volunteer, or just visiting?"

He watches you carefully before pushing himself off the counter. "A little of both," he admits. "I figured since I keep showing up here, I might as well make myself useful. Thought I could help out—cleaning, walking the dogs, whatever you need."

Your lips part slightly in surprise, not expecting him to go that far. Most visitors—especially ones who weren't officially signed up—usually didn’t offer to help. They just came to look around, play with the animals, and leave. But Jake? He’s standing there, waiting for you to give him something to do, and the sincerity in his voice makes your stomach flip.

"You're serious?" you ask, studying him.

Jake nods. "Dead serious. Put me to work, princess."

You roll your eyes at the nickname but can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, but if you’re volunteering, I’m treating you like any other worker here," you warn, tossing him the bag of dog treats. "No special treatment just because you’re cute."

Jake catches the bag effortlessly, but instead of reacting to the comment like you expected—flushed cheeks, maybe a flustered laugh—he only smirks. Steps closer. Leans in just enough to make your breath catch.

"So you think I’m cute?"

You realize your mistake immediately.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out, and that’s when you know—this is Jake’s revenge for all the times you teased him before. He’s enjoying this.

You recover quickly, squinting at him in mock suspicion. "I said no special treatment."

"Mmm." He hums, stepping back just a little, his smirk still in place. "Right. Got it."

You exhale, shaking your head as you motion for him to follow you to the back where the dogs are. He’s different today—still playful, still teasing, but not shy anymore. And while that should make things easier, it only makes your heart race faster because now you are the one slightly off balance.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of Jake helping out in ways you didn’t expect. He actually works—cleaning up kennels, helping organize supplies, even taking a couple of the bigger dogs out for walks. And the worst (or best) part? He’s good at it. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t mess around too much—just focuses on the tasks, flashing you confident smiles every time you pass by.

At one point, he’s kneeling down, playing with a golden retriever puppy who’s rolling on its back, paws flailing excitedly as Jake rubs its belly. You’re watching from a distance, arms crossed, and just watching him interact with the animals makes something warm settle in your chest.

Jake notices your stare, and instead of getting shy like before, he grins up at you. "Like what you see?"

You scoff, shaking your head with a laugh. "A little."

He lets out a dramatic gasp. "Wow. That’s it? After all my hard work?"

"Okay, a lot," you relent, rolling your eyes. "But don’t let it get to your head."

Jake chuckles, standing up and dusting off his jeans. "Too late."

By the time he’s getting ready to leave, the sky has darkened into a soft orange hue. He lingers near the door, hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels as if debating something.

Finally, he looks at you, his voice softer than before. "I really like it here, y’know."

You tilt your head. "The shelter?"

Jake’s lips twitch, and for the first time today, his confidence falters just a little. "Yeah," he says, eyes flickering to you briefly before looking away. "And... y’know. Everything else."

Your heart stutters. But before you can respond, he flashes you one last teasing smile, reaching for the door handle.

"See you next time, princess."

And then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, heartbeat way too fast, already waiting for the next time he walks through that door.

The shelter feels quieter now, the evening settling in with the last few rays of sunlight filtering through the windows. The hum of the fan, the soft shuffle of paws against the floor—everything seems more peaceful. But you’re not as calm as you usually are. You keep replaying Jake’s words in your head: “And… y’know. Everything else.”

You hadn’t expected that. At all. And it’s been gnawing at you since he left, his lingering words hanging in the air. You’re not sure what to make of it, but you can’t deny the flutter that still dances in your chest.

The bell above the door rings again, pulling you out of your thoughts, and there he is. Jake, once again, but this time, something about the way he stands at the entrance makes your heart skip. He’s not rushing in with his usual flustered energy; no, this time, he’s calm—confident. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit... nervous?

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at him. "Back so soon?" you ask, trying to mask the way your pulse picks up. “Didn’t expect to see you today."

Jake steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for a moment before locking onto you. The smile on his face is softer than before, but it’s no less genuine.

“I thought about it,” he begins, his voice steady, but with an undercurrent of something... deeper. “And I realized, I kinda like it here. More than I thought I would.” His gaze softens as it holds yours. “I also like spending time with you. You know, without the group around.”

Your stomach does a little flip. "Oh? You’re trying to keep me all to yourself now?"

Jake chuckles, taking a step closer to you. “Maybe,” he admits, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “But only if you’re up for it.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling, but you hide it behind your arm as you pretend to organize the adoption forms again. “I’ll let you know if I ever get desperate enough to spend time with a guy who thinks he’s smooth,” you tease.

Jake’s grin only widens. “I think you’re more into it than you let on.”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Am I now?"

"Definitely," he says confidently, walking closer until there’s only a small space between you two. He drops his voice slightly, eyes flickering down to your lips for a second before meeting your gaze again. "Come on, princess. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You can’t fool me.”

You swallow, trying to keep your composure, but his teasing tone, that confident air about him, it’s different from before—different in a way that makes everything feel a little more... real.

“I don’t know, Jake,” you reply, letting the silence drag out for a moment. "I think you’re the one doing the fooling here."

He laughs softly, stepping even closer, and now you can feel the warmth radiating off him, the small distance between you two suddenly a thing of the past. “I’m serious,” he says, his voice low, a little breathless. “I really do like it here. I like hanging out with you. But, uh... I don’t know if I’m ready for the whole ‘smooth talk’ thing just yet.”

You meet his eyes, and for the first time, you see that flicker of vulnerability in them. It’s not the confident, teasing Jake you’ve gotten used to—it’s the real Jake, the one who’s still figuring things out. And, honestly, it’s endearing. You can’t help but smile softly.

“You don’t have to be all smooth, you know,” you say, your voice quieter than before. “I mean, I think you're already doing just fine."

He blinks at you for a moment, almost as if the words have thrown him off guard. “Really?” he asks, a small grin tugging at his lips again. “I guess I can be myself, huh?”

You nod, your heart fluttering in a way you can’t quite explain. “You’ve been yourself this whole time, Jake. Just... maybe stop pretending like you’ve got it all figured out.”

He takes a slow step forward, a smile creeping onto his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever had it all figured out. But I’m getting there.” His eyes soften, voice lowering as he speaks. “And I’d really like to get to know you better... without the jokes and the teasing. Just you and me. If that’s okay?”

You pause, your chest tightening with the warmth of his sincerity. It’s not as playful as before—there’s no bravado or games in his words. Just raw honesty, and it takes you off guard in the best way possible.

“Okay,” you say, your voice steady even though your heart’s racing. “I’d like that too.”

Jake grins, his usual teasing smile returning. "I’ll take that as a win, princess."

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the tension between you both thick, but comfortable. It’s different from before. This time, there’s no rush—no uncertainty—just the two of you, finally stepping out from behind all the teasing and jokes, and into something more real.

“So,” Jake finally says, breaking the silence, his voice still light, “what’s next? You want me to clean out more pens, or can we take a break?”

You smile, your heart still fluttering, but it’s not the teasing that has you smiling—it’s the way he looks at you now. The way his confidence is matched with a genuine warmth.

“Let’s take a break,” you say, crossing your arms with a grin. “But you’re buying coffee.”

Jake chuckles, nodding easily. “Anything for you, princess. Lead the way.”

As the two of you head out of the shelter, the warm afternoon sun beginning to dip below the horizon, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you’ve both found something more than just a passing connection. And as Jake walks beside you, his smile soft and his confidence steady, you can’t help but feel like this is only the beginning.

The walk to the café is quiet, but not uncomfortable. The usual bustling street is quieter than normal, the evening air crisp with the promise of nightfall. The soft hum of traffic and distant chatter fade into the background as you walk side by side with Jake. He keeps stealing glances at you, like he’s still processing the shift in energy between the two of you, and you can’t help but smile every time you catch him doing it. He looks so... genuine tonight, like all the teasing and nervous energy he usually carries has melted away.

"So, uh," Jake starts, breaking the silence after a few steps. "You really like working at the shelter, huh?"

You nod, glancing at him as you continue walking. "Yeah. It’s not just the animals, though. It’s... the feeling that you’re doing something real, you know? Something that actually matters. Helping those little guys find their homes, giving them a second chance..." You trail off, realizing you're getting a little too sentimental. But you can’t help it. It's something you’re passionate about. "It just feels good."

Jake listens intently, his gaze softening as he takes in your words. "I can tell," he says quietly. "You really care. It’s kind of... amazing, actually."

You glance at him in surprise. “You think so?”

"Yeah." He shrugs, looking almost bashful. "I mean, I’ve seen you work with them, and you’re so patient and kind. It’s like... you’re not just a volunteer. You’re part of the whole thing. You make it better." He pauses, then adds with a sheepish grin, "I guess I’m a little jealous."

You stop walking for a moment, taken aback by his sincerity. "Jake, that's... that's really sweet of you to say."

He rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed by his own words. "Well, you are pretty amazing, so... I mean it." He looks down, his gaze focused on his shoes for a second before his eyes lift back to yours, as though searching for something in your face. "I’m glad I get to see it firsthand. Glad I get to be around... you."

Your heart skips a beat, and you try to mask it with a teasing smile. “You’re making me blush, Jake."

Jake laughs, a soft, warm sound that fills the air between you. “I’m serious though. I’m not just saying it to be nice.” He pauses, then adds more softly, “It’s... different when you actually see someone care about what they’re doing. Makes me want to try harder with the stuff I do, too."

You can feel the sincerity in his words, and it's not lost on you. There’s a tenderness there—something deeper than his usual teasing tone. It makes your heart ache in the best way possible, and you’re unsure of what to do with this feeling that’s quickly bubbling up inside you.

The two of you reach the café, a small cozy place nestled between other shops with a faded wooden sign that reads, “Café Lumière.” The warm golden glow of the lights spilling from the windows is inviting, and the chatter from inside offers the promise of a peaceful atmosphere. Jake opens the door for you, and you step inside first, the cozy aroma of freshly brewed coffee instantly wrapping around you.

After a quick look around, you both head up to the counter, where an older woman with a bright smile greets you.

"Good evening!" she says, her eyes twinkling. "What can I get for you two today?"

Jake steps forward before you can say anything, his voice confident, but still with that underlying warmth. "Two iced lattes, please. With extra caramel." He turns to you with a playful grin. "You like caramel, right?"

You chuckle, nodding. "I do. I’m not that difficult, Jake."

He winks at you before turning back to the barista. "One caramel latte for me too. And maybe something sweet, if you’ve got it?"

The barista laughs and nods. "We’ve got a selection of pastries today. How about a chocolate croissant?"

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Perfect.”

After placing the order, you both take a seat by the window, the soft glow of the café's lights casting a warm, intimate atmosphere around the two of you. The table is small, just big enough for two lattes and a pastry, but it feels like the perfect size, like it’s just the right space for you both to be.

Jake’s eyes linger on you as you pick up your latte, his gaze soft but curious. “So, what’s your story? I mean, aside from the shelter stuff. What do you like to do when you’re not working there?”

You take a sip of your drink, the sweet, creamy caramel warming you up inside. “Hmm... when I’m not at the shelter, I usually just hang out at home or with my friends. Pretty boring stuff, honestly.” You smile, feeling a little shy under his gaze. “But I’ve been getting into reading a lot lately. I don’t really have a favorite genre, but I like books that make you think. You know?”

Jake nods thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving you. “I get that. I like reading too, though mostly about random stuff. Sometimes I get so into something and then I forget about it, you know? Like right now, I’m into cooking. Don’t laugh," he says with a mock serious tone. "But I’ve been trying to make the perfect pasta."

You can’t help but laugh, leaning forward slightly. “Pasta? Really? You?”

Jake raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “What? I’m a man of many talents.”

You chuckle again, shaking your head. “I’ll believe it when I taste it.”

Jake’s grin widens, his usual teasing energy returning. “I’ll make you a deal then. If I cook you the perfect pasta, you have to come over and try it. Deal?”

You raise your own eyebrow, trying to keep your voice light. “What if it’s terrible?”

Jake shrugs nonchalantly. “Then you can say I tried, and at least I won’t be able to get too cocky. But you have to try it, no matter what.”

You can’t help but smile, the playful banter feeling so natural. There’s an undeniable warmth in the way he speaks to you, the easy way his words flow as if you’ve known each other far longer than you really have. It’s the kind of feeling you don’t want to let go of—this new dynamic between the two of you.

“Alright,” you agree, your tone matching his lightheartedness. “I’ll hold you to that. But only if you make me the perfect latte first.”

Jake leans back in his chair, a victorious grin spreading across his face. “Deal.”

And just like that, you both settle into a comfortable rhythm, the easy banter continuing, the conversation flowing naturally as if this was exactly where you were meant to be. No awkward silences, no rushing—it’s just you and Jake, enjoying the simple things, the little moments.

As the night stretches on, you realize something. It’s not just about the shelter, or the coffee, or the small promises made between sips. It’s the way Jake makes you feel like everything is exactly as it should be. And maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to realize that you might have found something you weren’t expecting tonight.

The air has cooled even more as you and Jake step out of the café, the remnants of laughter still hanging in the air. You both walk back down the street, the quiet evening now wrapping around you like a soft blanket. There's something comforting about the calmness between you two, no rush, no expectations—just the gentle sound of footsteps as you stroll back to the shelter.

"That was nice," Jake says casually, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. His tone is easy, but his eyes are brighter, more relaxed than before. "You’re not so bad at this whole hanging-out thing, y’know."

You glance at him, teasing a little. “I thought I was the one supposed to be ‘not so bad.’ Guess I’m getting the hang of it, huh?”

Jake chuckles. “Yeah, guess so.” He nudges you playfully. “But really, it’s easy to get along with you. I’ve always liked being around you.”

The way he says it is so casual, like it’s a given, but it stirs something deep in your chest. You blink, trying to hide the flutter you feel. “Well, same here. You’re not so annoying after all.”

Jake laughs, and it feels like the night is just a little warmer, just a little more special because of the way he’s looking at you.

The shelter comes into view again, and the familiar hum of the building wraps around you, drawing you back into the routine of your work. You push the door open, and the warm, comforting scent of animals, cleaning supplies, and the general bustle of the place greets you. There’s still some cleaning to do, some paperwork to file, and the cages to lock up for the night. The shelter’s duties don’t stop when the clock strikes closing time, but tonight, there’s something a little lighter about it. Maybe it’s the company, or maybe it’s the way Jake’s been looking at you, his usual teasing tone mixed with something a little softer.

Jake follows you inside, more comfortable than before, less of the nervous energy that used to cling to him. He slips his jacket off and places it over the back of one of the chairs in the lobby, looking over the room like he’s ready to dive into whatever work needs doing. He’s serious now, like he’s got a purpose here, and it’s all about being with you.

“Want some help with anything?” he asks, his voice firm with the confidence he’s been showing more of lately.

You turn to him, surprised. “You wanna help me with the chores?”

“Sure,” Jake replies with a grin. “I’m here. Might as well make myself useful.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t argue, nodding. “Alright then. Help me clean the kennels. I’ll need you to scrub the floor in the back, and I’ll take care of the paperwork.”

Jake gives a mock salute. “Got it, boss.”

You can’t help but laugh, the image of Jake trying to look serious while wearing a half-grin pulling a smile from you. Together, you both fall into the rhythm of the work, moving seamlessly between tasks. The two of you clean the kennels and sweep the floors, your hands working together, but the silence between you is no longer uncomfortable. It’s easy. Even when you’re in the middle of the mundane routine, everything feels a little different now. Like you’re not just a volunteer anymore. You’re not just the girl who runs the shelter. You’re you, with Jake by your side, helping you in the most unexpected ways.

It doesn’t take long to finish up the chores, and soon the shelter feels like it’s ready for the night. The animals are settled, the lights are dimmed, and the air smells clean and fresh. You finish locking up the last of the cages and stand, wiping your hands on your apron.

“Looks like we’re done here,” you say, glancing at Jake.

“Yeah, I think we did pretty good,” he replies with a satisfied grin. “I didn’t break anything this time, so that’s a win.”

You smile at him, crossing your arms. “Well, I guess you passed the test then.”

He steps toward the door, waiting for you to follow. “So, now that it’s all done… I can walk you home?”

You hesitate for a second, the question catching you off guard. Your heart flutters, and you feel a small, nervous smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that,” you reply softly. “But you really don’t have to, Jake. You’ve done enough today.”

Jake shakes his head, his expression serious now. “I want to. It’s not a big deal.” He opens the door for you, holding it wide as you step out into the cool night air. “I said I’d walk you home. And I mean it.”

The two of you walk side by side again, the streetlights casting long shadows as you make your way through the familiar streets. The path to your home isn’t far, but somehow, it feels like the night stretches on longer than usual. There’s something in the way Jake is walking next to you, the steady pace, the way he’s so attuned to your presence. He’s quiet, but not in the uncomfortable way—just... in the thoughtful way that makes your heart race a little faster.

“So,” Jake says, breaking the silence as the distance between you and your apartment shrinks, “I guess this is the part where I ask... what’s next? You know, for us.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sudden directness, but the warmth in his voice makes it feel like a natural question. It’s not a challenge; it’s just... curious. Like he’s trying to figure things out just as much as you are.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your voice soft, unsure of where this conversation will go.

Jake shrugs, his smile small but genuine. “I mean... now that we’ve, uh, gotten past all the awkwardness and joking around, what happens now?” He looks at you, his eyes sincere, almost vulnerable. “I really like being with you, you know. It’s not just the shelter. It’s... you.”

Your heart skips. You can feel your own vulnerability rising up as you look at him. “Jake...” You stop walking for a moment, and he does too, his gaze never leaving you. “I like being with you, too,” you admit, the words feeling weighty, real, and true. “I don’t really know what’s next either. But maybe... that’s okay.”

Jake nods slowly, as if he’s letting that settle in. “Yeah,” he says softly, his voice steady now. “I think that’s okay.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the quietness of the night surrounding you, the air thick with the newness of everything. There’s no rush, no need to figure out the future yet. Not tonight. Tonight, it’s enough to just stand here, together.

You finally reach your building, and as you stop in front of the entrance, you turn to Jake with a soft smile. "Thanks for walking me home, Jake."

He grins, his eyes flickering with warmth. "Anytime, princess."

You feel a warm flush creep up your neck, but you don’t hide it. Instead, you just smile back, your chest full. “See you tomorrow?”

Jake nods, his hand slipping into his pocket as he takes a step back. “Definitely. I’ll be back to volunteer again. I mean, I can’t stay away that long.”

You laugh, the sound light and free. “I’ll be waiting,” you tease.

And with that, he walks backward for a few steps, still watching you, the smile on his face the last thing you see before you close the door behind you. But even as you lock it, you know you won’t be alone for long. Jake has found a way into your life—and it doesn’t seem like he’s leaving anytime soon. And honestly, you’re okay with that.

Jake’s message pops up on your phone as you’re finishing your morning routine, and for a moment, you just stare at it. It’s simple, but there’s something about it that makes your heart race a little. "Are you in the shelter today?"

You’re quick to type your response, already halfway to the door of your apartment. Yes, I’ll be there in a bit. Why? You send the message with a hint of curiosity, wondering what this is all about. Jake’s usually not the type to reach out first unless there’s a reason, especially when it comes to something serious.

Not long after, his reply buzzes in. Good, because I need to talk to you about something important. The words are brief, but they send a flutter through you. It’s something I want to say in person.

You can’t help but feel a little nervous. You set your phone down on the counter and take a deep breath. Whatever it is, you tell yourself, it’s just Jake—nothing you can’t handle.

When you arrive at the shelter later, the usual sounds of animals greet you, but Jake is already waiting by the door, standing a little too still for someone who’s usually so full of energy. He looks... different today. More serious, almost. As if whatever he’s been holding back is weighing on him.

"Hey," you greet, a smile tugging at your lips as you walk toward him. "You’re here early."

Jake doesn’t smile back right away. Instead, he looks at you, his usual easygoing energy replaced with a quiet, almost intense focus. "Yeah, I wanted to get this over with," he says, his voice quieter than usual. He scratches the back of his neck, clearly a little nervous, but there's determination in his eyes. "I’ve been meaning to ask you something."

You raise an eyebrow, a little taken aback by his seriousness. "What is it?"

Jake takes a deep breath, as though steeling himself. He shifts his weight slightly, then finally looks you in the eyes, his voice more earnest than you’ve ever heard it. "I want to take you out on a date," he says, his words direct but soft. "A real date. And... I want to confess something, properly." He pauses, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. "I like you. More than just as a friend or... whatever we’ve been calling this."

Your heart skips a beat at his admission, the air around you suddenly feeling thicker, charged with a tension that wasn’t there a moment ago. The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, and for a second, you’re left speechless. He’s been talking about his feelings for you all along, but hearing it like this... in the quiet space between the two of you, it feels like something new, something more real than ever before.

Jake scratches the back of his head, his gaze shifting away for a second. "I... I mean, I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but I wasn’t sure how you felt. But I can’t just keep pretending like I’m okay with just being the guy who helps out at the shelter. So, yeah, I’m asking now." He looks back at you, his eyes a little anxious. "So... what do you think?"

Your mind races for a moment, your pulse quickening as you process what he’s just said. And then, you smile—a soft, genuine smile that feels like a weight lifting off your chest. You feel light, happy even.

"I think I’d like that," you finally say, your voice quieter than usual. "A real date sounds perfect."

Jake’s face lights up in that familiar, contagious grin, the one that makes you feel like the world’s a little bit brighter. "Really?" He asks, as if he didn’t quite believe it.

"Yeah," you answer, stepping closer to him. "I like you too, Jake. A lot."

Jake’s eyes soften at your words, the tension that had been there moments ago dissolving into a warmth that fills the space between you. "So... you’ll go out with me?" he asks, a playful spark returning to his eyes.

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips as you tease, "I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how the date goes."

Jake chuckles, clearly relieved, his usual playful energy returning. "I’ll take that as a yes, then." He steps a little closer, his smile a mix of happiness and something else you can’t quite put your finger on. "You won’t regret this, princess."

Your heart does a little flip at the nickname, and you try to keep your composure, but it’s hard when Jake’s standing there, looking at you with all the affection in the world.

"So," you start, trying to shift the conversation. "When’s this date happening?"

Jake takes a step back, his playful grin never faltering. "Soon. I’ll figure it out." He pauses. "But don’t get any ideas. I’m not letting you off the hook that easily."

You laugh, the sound easy and free, as you shake your head. "I think I’m looking forward to it."

"Good," Jake says with a wink, already starting to drift back toward the area where the animals are waiting. "Because I’m definitely not letting you get away now."

And as you watch him go, you feel a flutter of excitement in your chest, knowing that whatever comes next, it’s the beginning of something real between the two of you.

The morning feels lighter than usual, the kind of day where everything feels a bit brighter. You wake up to a new excitement buzzing in your chest, a lingering warmth from last night’s date. As you finish getting ready, you glance at your phone, smiling at the simple but thoughtful message from Jake: “I’ll pick you up at 7, princess.”

Today, it’s a date—another chance to be with him.

Jake arrives at your apartment just as expected, pulling up in his car with a relaxed smile on his face. He’s wearing a plain navy shirt that hugs his frame perfectly, beige pants, and a black belt. His style is simple, but it suits him so well that it’s almost effortless. You notice the way his eyes brighten when he sees you, wearing your favorite white shirt and short jeans, ready for another adventure.

"Morning, princess," Jake greets as you step out of your door. His voice holds a softness, but there's a boldness in the way he looks at you now, like he’s not holding back anymore. He steps toward you, his hand brushing against yours as you both walk to the car. “Ready to pick up some dogs and go for a walk?”

You nod, smiling softly. “Absolutely. Let’s go.” The nerves you used to feel around him are gone, replaced with an easy comfort, like being with him just fits.

The drive to the shelter is short, filled with light conversation, and the dogs are already wagging their tails in excitement when you arrive. You grab two leashes, one for Jake’s golden retriever and one for your husky, before you both start walking toward the park.

The park is peaceful this time of morning, a quiet haven just for the two of you and the dogs. Jake’s golden retriever pulls ahead excitedly, but your husky is more relaxed, trotting by your side with that calm, steady energy. You’re matching the dogs’ pace, trying to keep up, but they’re pulling you in different directions.

By the time you both find a spot to sit on a park bench, you're out of breath, laughing at how exhausting it is just to keep the dogs in check.

“I didn’t realize I was signing up for a marathon today,” you joke, wiping a bit of sweat from your forehead.

Jake’s laughter is low and warm as he glances over at you. “It’s part of the charm. But hey, hold on a second.”

He stands up and heads to the nearby ice cream stand, coming back a few moments later with two ice creams in hand. One for you and one for himself. He also brought drinks for the dogs, as they’re clearly thirsty from the walk.

“Here,” Jake says, handing you a cone. “I didn’t know if you wanted chocolate or vanilla, but I just got both. Ice cream for the dogs too, just in case.” His grin is playful, and there’s something in the way he looks at you now, like he’s so at ease with you, like he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.

You thank him, your lips curving into a soft smile as you take the ice cream. You settle back into the bench, relaxing for a moment as you savor the sweet, cool treat. The dogs are now sitting at your feet, licking at their bowls.

As you’re enjoying your ice cream, you feel Jake’s gaze on you, a feeling of warmth in his presence. He’s sitting beside you now, close enough that you can feel the faint heat of his body. As you finish the cone, a bit of ice cream lands on the edge of your mouth. Without saying a word, Jake reaches over, his thumb gently brushing the spot, cleaning the crumbs from your lips.

His touch lingers for a second longer than necessary, and the warmth in his eyes is undeniable. His soft touch makes you feel like your heart might flutter out of your chest.

"Gotcha," Jake murmurs with a teasing smile, his fingers still brushing your skin before he pulls his hand away.

You’re not sure if it’s the closeness, the soft, gentle gestures, or the way he looks at you, but you’re feeling all kinds of things. It’s intimate, and it’s making everything feel so real.

"You’re getting a little too good at this," you tease, raising an eyebrow. "Are you trying to earn points or something?"

Jake looks at you with a playful grin. "Maybe I’m just trying to make sure you’re well taken care of. Can’t have you looking all messy now, can I?" His voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it now, a new boldness that wasn’t there before.

You chuckle and shake your head, but deep down, you’re really enjoying this new side of him.

After a while, the dogs seem to have had enough playtime, so you both get up and head back to the shelter. The walk back is slower, a comfortable silence between you and Jake as the evening starts to settle in.

As you approach the shelter, Jake walks closer to you, his hand brushing against yours again. Without thinking, you let your fingers curl around his, the touch feeling right, and you can’t help but smile at the quiet reassurance it gives you. Jake doesn’t let go either.

Once you’ve put the dogs back in their kennels, Jake offers to drive you home. The evening air is cool, the streetlights casting long shadows as you get into the car, heading back toward your apartment.

The car ride is quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine and the faint radio playing in the background. You steal a few glances at Jake, noticing the way he drives so carefully, his jaw relaxed as he navigates the streets. You could stay in the car with him forever, but soon enough, you pull up to your building.

Jake stops the car and looks over at you with that same soft, gentle expression. “Well, here we are,” he says, his voice quieter than before. “Thanks for today. I had a really good time.”

You look up at him, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his words. "I did too, Jake. I’m really glad we did this."

As Jake walks you to your apartment, the night air feels a little cooler, but the warmth from earlier still lingers between you two. You stand in front of your door, reluctant to let go of the night just yet. The city hums softly around you, but in this quiet moment, everything feels still.

You glance up at Jake, your heart still racing from everything that’s happened, and you smile softly. "Goodnight, Jake," you say, your voice quiet but genuine, like a promise hanging in the air.

Jake looks down at you, his gaze softening, the corners of his lips curling into that signature, tender smile. “Goodnight, princess,” he replies, his voice warm and affectionate.

There's a slight pause as the words settle between you two, but you can’t help but feel like you don’t want the night to end. You take a small step forward, your voice a little softer this time. “Can you text me when you get home?”

Jake’s eyes sparkle with affection, and he lets out a small chuckle. “Of course, I’ll text you as soon as I’m home. Promise.”

You smile, relieved, and nod as you gently lean against your door. “Thanks, Jake. Sleep well.”

“I will, now that I’ve seen you,” he teases, reaching out to give your head a soft pat, making you laugh lightly. You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but there’s something about his affection that makes you feel at ease.

His hand now resting gently on your shoulder, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Can I give you a hug before I go?” he asks, his voice gentle, almost shy.

You smile, nodding softly. “Of course.”

In that moment, Jake pulls you into a tight, almost too soft hug, one that makes your heart skip a beat. He holds you there, his arms around you, feeling safe and warm. For a brief second, it feels like the world is just the two of you.

When he finally lets you go, there’s a lingering hesitation in his eyes, like he doesn’t want to leave just yet. But he does, taking a step back.

You’re about to turn and enter your apartment when you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, surprising him. Without thinking, you lean up and kiss his cheek. His eyes widen in shock, and you can’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face.

"Wh-What was that?" Jake stammers, his hand automatically going to his cheek where your lips had just been.

You give him a cheeky grin, your heart pounding in your chest. "Just felt like it," you reply, your voice teasing.

Jake’s eyes narrow, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. “Oh, so that’s how it is?” He steps closer, his voice low but playful. “Then you better give me the other side now, or I’ll be upset.”

You laugh, shaking your head, but you’re already leaning up to give him another kiss—this time on the other cheek.

Jake’s grin widens, his confidence back as he looks at you with that teasing spark in his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to keep you around for more, then,” he says with a wink before finally turning to leave.

"Goodnight, princess," he repeats, his tone softer this time, his gaze lingering for a moment before he finally steps back.

You take a deep breath, still not ready to say goodbye, but you wave gently. “Goodnight, Jake. Text me.”

He laughs quietly and gives you one last smile before turning to walk away. The sound of his footsteps fades, but you can’t help but stand there for a second longer, watching him leave. With one final look, he walks back toward the elevator, his footsteps soft on the floor.

Once he’s out of sight, you close the door behind you, feeling a rush of warmth spread through your chest. Your heart still racing from the evening and you lean against it for a moment, smiling to yourself. The night has felt so right, and you can’t wait for the next time you’ll see him.

A few moments later, your phone buzzes. "Just got home, princess. Sweet dreams."

You grin, your heart swelling with happiness, and you quickly type back, "Goodnight, Jake. Sweet dreams to you too."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Homicipher ending 17 spoilers:

what abt mc clinging onto Mr Crawling after getting kidnapped by Mr Stitch bc they’re still shaken up but super relieved that Mr crawling came to save them

That route is so 🥹🥹🥹

You hasn’t stopped clinging onto Mr Crawling since he saved you from Mr Stitch, fearing that if you’d let go of him that you’d only get kidnapped again and taken elsewhere where you wouldn’t be so lucky. It also didn’t help that your mind kept wandering back to that moment where you were being hauled away, hand outstretched as you called out to Mr Crawling in desperation, before finding yourself in a room with Mr Stitch and fearing what he might do to you before the feeling of relief flooded your body when you saw Mr Crawling.

You were so relived that you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself into his arms, clinging onto to him as he rubbed your back as soothingly as he could, hoping to bring you some sort of comfort while trying to reassure himself that you weren’t going anywhere nor that anyone was going to try and take you away from him.

‘You pain have?’ He asks as he cradles you against his chest and looking you over to make sure Mr Stitch didn’t bring you any harm. ‘Me worry.’ He adds.

‘I’m fine thanks to you, just still a little unnerved is all.’ You replied as you tried to smile at him but it came across as forced and you instead just cling onto him even more, just wanting to get it into your head that you were safe, that no harm would come to you when Mr Crawling was there to keep you safe like he did moments prior; Unfortunately it seemed that no matter what you did your brain was leas to believe that you were still in danger somewhat and it made you unable to feel Mr Crawling’s attempts at comfort and reassurance which you absolutely hated.

Mr Crawling lets out a mournful sound from the back of his throat as he burrows his head into your neck, taking one of your hands and placing it atop of his head and gesture for you to stroke his hair with it, albeit it was a little clunky and clumsily but it did manage to make you smile a little as you began to stroke his hair on your own accord while he purred. ‘Keep you safe. It okay cry.’ He said softly as he made sure to keep a look out, daring anything to try and pry you from his hands and if they do, he’ll make sure to make it hurt however he can if it meant keeping you safe and sound in his arms like you were now.

You chuckled tearfully as you burrowed your head into his shoulder, breathing him in and ignoring the fact that Mr Crawling didn’t smell so pleasant, but in this moment you didn’t care as it was what you connected him with in means of calming yourself downs an regaining composure. ‘You did keep me safe, you really, really did. Thank you Mr Crawling.’ You said while your fingers became entangled in the long black tresses of his hair, toying with them at your own leisure, not feeling the need to escape his embrace just yet when it’s done nothing but bring you back down to reality and back to him.

‘You okay. Happy.’ Mr crawling utters as he shifted a little but as he does so he feels your grip on his tighten and your breath hitch in your throat, almost as though you were scared that he was leaving you when he would never dare entertain such a thing, and he lets out a sound akin to whimpering as he nuzzled your neck in reassurance. ‘Not going.’ He adds. ‘No leaving you.’ Mr Crawling felt you relax in his arms once again and your hand went back to fiddling with his hair and trying to even out your breathing.

‘Im sorry.’ You muttered against his shoulder. ‘Me seem weak.’ Mr crawling frowned as he was the one to tighten his hold on you this time, wanting nothing more then to infuse every ounce of affection and love he has for you into the embrace , letting you know that he was always going to be with you whether you wished for his company or not but in this moment in time you needed him more then ever and he wasn’t going to throw the opportunity to show how capable of a partner he could be away.

‘You strong brave. No weak.’ Mr Crawling reassured as he kissed you lightly on the head, keeping you close, keeping you protected and safe while he kept guard as you felt relaxed enough to fall asleep in his arms though not before saying one final thank you to Mr Crawling and pressing a sleepy kiss to his neck.

[natsaffection]

Request if ur taking them: hella smutty enemies to lovers w nat and female reader… like dom nat is interrogating/torturing r w sex like not letting us come etc unless we give over the information

Interrogation. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Sex Machine, Sex as „Torture“, begging, restraints, edging, Clit play, multiple orgasm, overstimulation

Word Count: 2,7k

A/N: Uhm..MAYBE I got carried away..

The battle had been fierce, and the aftermath was a testament to the clash between the Avengers and you. Debris and rubble covered the once pristine SHIELD facility. The air was thick with dust and the smell of burnt metal. Amidst the chaos, you lay on the ground, breathing heavily, your eyes full of defiance and a hint of amusement.

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, stood over you, her face a mask of determination. She knelt down and pinned your arms behind your back with practiced ease. You struggled, but Natasha’s grip was ironclad.

“It’s over.” Natasha said, her voice deep and firm. You smirked mockingly, your eyes meeting Natasha’s. “You seem pretty confident, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha ignored the provocation and reached for the handcuffs on her belt. “I’ve had enough of your games. It’s time to put an end to this.”

As Natasha secured a cuff around your wrist, you laughed breathlessly. “Oh, careful, these are kind of my thing,” you said with a mischievous grin. Without hesitation, Natasha tightened her grip, “Come on! You don’t have to be so rough. We could have some fun instead.”

But she pressed your check into the dirt, her knee firmly in your back to prevent any movement. “Keep talking, and you’ll find out how rough I can be.“ Natasha hissed, her tone dripping with menace. “The fun is over. You’ve been causing trouble for too long.”

You writhed and twisted, trying to break free, but Natasha’s hold was unyielding. “You’re no fun..” you muttered, your voice muffled by the ground.

Natasha tightened the cuffs on your wrists. “And if you weren’t so insistent on being a villain, you might actually be worth my time.”

You tried to sit up, looking around as if searching for an escape route or an opportunity. “Don’t even think about it,” Natasha warned, increasing the pressure with her knee. You groaned but stopped struggling, though your eyes still roamed.

SHIELD agents were still securing the area, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha had to wait for the all-clear signal before she could take you to the waiting vehicle. The minutes dragged on, filled with the distant sounds of agents clearing debris and securing the area.

“You really won’t let up, will you?” you said, your tone a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration. “No.” Natasha replied curtly. You sighed dramatically but didn’t resist further. “You know, I was serious about the restraints.. Maybe one day you’ll take me up on that offer.”

Natasha didn’t respond, her eyes scanning the surroundings until she received a nod from a nearby agent. She finally relaxed, pulling you to your feet with a swift motion. Her grip remained firm as she led you to the waiting vehicle.

“Let’s go,” Natasha ordered, pushing you forward. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, your defiant gaze never wavering.

As you reached the vehicle, Natasha secured you inside before taking a seat herself. The doors closed with a heavy thud, sealing your fate. As the vehicle drove away, you couldn’t help but admire the vie, not of the receding landscape, but of the relentless agent who had finally captured you.

The ride in the vehicle was silent, your attempts at conversation met only with Natasha’s stony silence. Upon arrival at the SHIELD headquarters, you were escorted through a series of sterile corridors, your wrists still firmly bound. Eventually, you were deposited in an interrogation room, the door closing with a resounding click behind you.

Natasha stood outside the room, watching you through the one-way window. Director Fury approached, his expression as inscrutable as ever.

“Anyone getting her to talk?” Fury asked. Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. But I have an idea.” Fury raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“I want to try a different approach,” Natasha said, her eyes never leaving you. “Something that requires a bit more… hands-on work.”

Fury’s gaze followed hers, a knowing look crossing his face. “You think you can break her?” Natasha’s lips curled into a slight smile. “I know I can.”

Fury considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Do what you have to. Just make sure we get the information we need.”

Natasha gave a curt nod and turned to a couple of nearby agents. “Bring her to Room B.”

The agents obeyed, entering the room to escort you to the new location. You, always quick to notice a change, looked curiously between the agents and Natasha. “Tired of the room already?”

Natasha didn’t respond, her expression remaining impassive as she followed the agents and you down another corridor. They stopped before a reinforced door, which opened to reveal a stark, dimly lit room. In the center of the room, chains hung from the ceiling.

Your eyes widened slightly as you saw the setup, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Oh, Natasha, you really know how to treat a girl.”

Natasha stepped forward, her gaze steady. “Keep talking and you will see where it takes you.“ You laughed, the sound echoing off the bare walls. “You almost had me fooled. I mean, you’ve got chains hanging from the ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to spoil me.”

The agents finished their task and stepped back. Now you hung from your wrists, your feet barely touching the ground. Natasha approached you, her expression cold and calculating.

“You like to talk,” Natasha said, her voice low and menacing. “But now you’re going to listen.” Your smile faded slightly as you saw the determination in Natasha’s eyes. “Are you going to torture me for information?”

Natasha leaned close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “Kind of.”

Natasha knew exactly how to handle this situation. She had done her homework and knew your psychological profile. Natasha’s plan was unorthodox, but she knew it would be effective.

With a swift motion, Natasha signaled to a control panel on the wall. A mechanical hum filled the room as a device descended from the ceiling, its purpose unmistakable. Your eyes widened in surprise and something else..anticipation.

“You know, if you didn’t insist on being a villain, you might actually enjoy this,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Your defiance wavered, replaced by a mix of excitement and apprehension. “You wouldn’t…”

Natasha’s grin returned. “Oh, but I would. You see, Y/n, everyone has a breaking point. And I’m going to find yours.”

The device was now perfectly positioned, and Natasha activated it. The gentle vibrations began, and your body tensed in the restraints. You tried to hide your reactions, but Natasha could see right through you.

“Let’s see how long you can maintain that attitude,” Natasha said, her voice a silky purr. “Tell me what I need to know.”

You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Do you really think this will work? That I’ll just spill everything because of a little… pleasure?”

Natasha’s eyes darkened. “I think you’ll be surprised at how persuasive it can be.” The intensity of the device increased, and your breathing grew heavier. You tried to turn away, but the restraints held you firmly in place. Natasha watched you closely, knowing that your resolve would eventually crumble.

Minutes passed, and the room was filled with the sounds of your labored breaths and stifled moans. Natasha remained silent, her eyes never leaving your face. She knew exactly when your resistance began to waver.

“Ready to talk?” Natasha asked, her voice gentle but commanding. Your eyes met Natasha’s, filled with a mix of defiance and desperation. “I- I won’t… give in…”

Natasha leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear. “We’ll see about that.” The vibrations continued, pushing you closer to the edge. Natasha could see how close you were, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. Just as you were on the verge, Natasha deactivated the device, leaving you gasping for breath. FUCK, you thought. You glared at Natasha, your eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire. “You’re playing dirty.”

Natasha’s expression remained impassive. “All you have to do is talk, and this can be over.” You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Natasha grinned. “Then we continue.”

She reactivated the device, and the cycle began anew. Natasha watched intently, noting every reaction, every tremble. She knew the female body well, knew how to read the signs of an approaching climax. Every time you got close, Natasha would stop, leaving you teetering on the edge.

“You’re… a real piece of work,” you panted, your body glistening with sweat. “Thank you,” Natasha replied coolly. “Now, tell me what I need to know.”

Your resolve weakened, your body betraying you. You wanted to resist, to keep your secrets, but Natasha’s relentless game wore you down. “Alright..” you gasped, desperation in your voice. “I’ll talk!“

Natasha is stepping closer to you. “Start talking.” You took a shaky breath, your body still trembling. “I… I was hired by HYDRA… to infiltrate SHIELD. They wanted… information on your operations… your weaknesses..“ Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable. “Who hired you? Names, Y/n.”

“Dr. Zola!” you admitted barely audibly. “He… he was the one who contacted me..“ Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Where can we find him?”

You hesitated, and Natasha reached for the control panel again. „No, wait! I’ll tell you! He’s… he’s in a hidden facility… in the Alps. I can give you the coordinates!”

Natasha nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. You had managed to deceive Natasha and keep your secrets. But your victory was short-lived.

“Did you enjoy your break?” Natasha asked, her voice deceptively calm. Your smugness wavered. “What do you mean?”

Natasha walked towards you slowly, each step calculated. “Do you think I'm stupid? That I would let you off that easily?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Natasha grinned, a predatory look in her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be fun for me.” Natasha stepped closer to you, her voice now a seductive whisper. “You see, Y/n, I know exactly how your mind works. Now, you’re going to learn the true meaning of torture.”

The vibrations began again, this time more intense and relentless. Your body reacted immediately, and Natasha watched with a knowing smile.

“I see you’re already close,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with mocking sympathy. “But this time, I won’t stop. I’m going to push you past every limit you have.”

You gasped, your body tensing as the device did its work. Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “Tell me, Y/n. How does it feel to be outsmarted?”

Your breaths came in ragged bursts, your body on the brink. “When I get out of here-” Natasha’s smile widened. “Answers.Now.”

Your resolve shattered as you realized the futility of resistance. You spilled everything, your words a desperate rush. “Fuck! The facility is in the Carpathians, not the Alps. Zola… H-He is there, with a team! They’re developing a new Bio weapon!”

Natasha nodded, her eyes never leaving your face. “Good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” However, she didn’t stop. Instead, she increased the intensity. Your eyes widened in shock. “I told the truth!”

Natasha’s expression was cold and unyielding. “This is for lying earlier. You need to learn that there are consequences.”

Your body convulsed as you were pushed past your limit, your pleas turning into incoherent screams. Natasha watched impassively, making sure you learned your lesson.

She placed her hand on your body, her fingers stroking and teasing expertly, amplifying the overstimulation. Her touch was precise, knowing exactly how to drive you over the edge repeatedly.

“Do you feel that, Y/n?” Natasha whispered seductively. “I can do this all night. You won’t find any relief until I’m satisfied.”

Your eyes begged for mercy, but Natasha’s resolve was ironclad. „God, this Face is so cute..“ She continued her relentless torture, pushing you to multiple, agonizingly intense orgasms. Each time you thought you couldn’t take any more, Natasha found a new way to amplify the pleasure, keeping you on the brink of madness.

“You belong to me now,” Natasha said, her voice a velvety purr. “Every time you lie to me, this is what you’ll get.”

Your body shook uncontrollably, your mind barely holding on. Natasha’s hand moved to your clit, her fingers circling with expert precision. The overstimulation was unbearable, driving you over the edge again and again.

“Please… no more…” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. Natasha’s smile was one of cold satisfaction. “Remember this feeling, Y/n. This is what happens when you cross me.”

Natasha leaned in one last time, her voice a deadly whisper. “Next time, think twice before you try to deceive me.”

“S-Should I apologize!? Is that what you want to h-hear?” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry, there y-you have it! Now turn it o-” You gasped, your words cut off by a shattering climax that coursed through you.

Natasha’s smile was triumphant, but she didn’t stop the machine. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath hot against your skin. “You’re so sweet.”

Your body writhed, your mind a haze of pleasure and pain. “N-Natasha!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. “Please…”

Natasha stepped closer, her hands now working in tandem with the machine. Her fingers found your clit again. Your eyes widened, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you. “No… no, please… I can’t take it…!“ you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.

“Oh, yes, you can,” Natasha replied, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “And you will.” Natasha knew you weren’t in any real pain, just overwhelmed by pleasure. She knew your body so well, every sensitive spot mapped in her mind. She could sense your inner conflict, your head shaking in defiance while your body responded with undeniable arousal. Deep down, you agreed, unable to deny the raw pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your body arched, your mind a whirl of sensations. Natasha’s fingers and the relentless machine worked in harmony, driving you to heights of pleasure you hadn’t thought possible. Every touch, was designed to break you, to make you completely surrender.

“Say it again.” Natasha whispered, her breath hot against your ear. Your voice was a broken sob. “I’m sorry… Please… Please…” you repeated, your body trembling violently.

“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, her fingers never pausing. “But I want more. I want you to scream for me.” And you did. Your body writhed, every nerve on fire. You were sure you would die from the sheer intensity of the pleasure, your mind shattered, your will completely broken. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, her touch both torment and balm.

Her fingers moved with expert precision, finding the perfect spot that made you jerk violently in your restraints. “Ah, there it is,” Natasha purred, holding your hips steady as she intensified the stimulation. “I knew you had it in you.”

Your eyes rolled back, your body arching helplessly against the relentless pleasure. “FUCK… PLEASE… I’m begging you…!!”

“Beg all you want,” Natasha whispered, her voice deep and sensual. “I love hearing you beg. Where’s your attitude now, hm?” Natasha taunted, her fingers never slowing. “You were so defiant before. What happened?”

“I…I..” your voice was a breathless sob, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm.

Natasha’s fingers continued their merciless assault, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it ruthlessly. Your body arched, your mind breaking under the sheer intensity of the pleasure. You were sure you would die from it, your will completely shattered under Natasha’s expert touch.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Natasha slowed the machine and her fingers, giving you a moment to catch your breath. She leaned close, her lips brushing your ear. “You did good,” she murmured. “But remember, there’s always more to tell, more to give.”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body sagging in the restraints. In that moment, you knew you were utterly and completely at Natasha’s mercy. And there was nothing you could do about it.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i dream about you and i

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — reader is on period, fluff

summary — rafe is proving himself to you that he intends to be better.

authors note — once again, this can def be read as a standalone but its apart of my mean!rafe series. it can be found in my rafe cameron masterlist under au’s. please send some cutesy requests, i love them sm.

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you were currently laid out in your shared bed with a fluffy, weighted blanket clutched close to your chest to try to ease some of the pain you were feeling. you’d gotten your period thankfully but it was more painful than ever. you never really got cramps so experiencing them for the first time now was like literal hell. you had hot tears running down your cheeks because of it.

the obnoxious ringtone of your phone rang through the silence and it almost made you want to die at the thought of rolling over to pick it up. you groaned and reached behind blindly to grab it. rafe’s name flashed across the screen. “hello?” you answered, voice shaking.

“hey, what’s wrong? you cryin’?” his voice was soft and gentle and full of concern. “somethin’ happen?”

you sniffled and wiped your cheeks with your sleeve but it was no use as another wave of pain hit you and a choked sob escaped your lips. “no. ‘m fine. jus’ got my period,” you half-lied. you weren’t even sure why because he definitely could hear you.

he sighed to himself, knowing you were going to take the stubborn route. “well i’m on the way home now, sweetheart. i jus’ got done with work. you want me to pick anything up? food? whatever you need.”

“no,” you said quickly before covering your mouth to hide another cry. “i don’t need anything,” you managed to whimper out before clamping your hand over the lower half of your face again.

there was a beat of silence. “ok, i’ll be home soon then,” he replied. “see you in a bit. i love you.”

you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself. “i love you too,” you mumbled before hanging up. your stomach began to hurt even more and a headache began to form due to the crying.

it had only been about 20 minutes before you heard the sound of rafe’s car pull into the driveway of your shared home. the front door opened and closed quietly almost as if he was trying to sneak in but unfortunately for him, kiwi began to go crazy out of excitement.

he gently quieted her down and made his way up the stairs to where you were tucked in the bed under the covers. when he walked in, he had a red box tied neatly with a bow, a basket full of your favorite sweets and self care items resting on top of it, and a bouquet of roses in the other hand.

you quickly wiped your tears and sat up to get a better look at him, kiwi jumping up onto the bed and laying by your lap. “rafe,” you said softly. “what is all this?”

“you said you jus’ got your period and you sounded upset,” he explained while handing you your gifts and flowers. “so i got you a couple things to make you feel better.”

your lip began to tremble as you admired the basket and box of chocolate covered strawberries in your lap along with the flowers in your hands. “when did you even have the time to do all this?”

he shrugged it off as if it weren’t even that big of a deal. but it was to you and he knew that. you’d mentioned once or twice how much the little things mattered to you. “stopped at the store on the way home,” he said, a smile on his face as he watched you admire your roses. “got some food for you too. i know you’re in pain but you still gotta eat, angel. even if its just a few bites so you can take somethin’ for the pain.”

more tears began to fall at how sweet he was. he’d grown so much over the last month and you were so proud at how he’d finally stepped up and began acting right. you just really hoped it wasn’t temporary.

“don’t cry, sweet girl,” he whispered softly as he cradled your cheeks and wiped them with his thumbs. “c’mon, lets go downstairs ‘nd watch a movie or something. i still got the food down there too.”

you groaned and leaned back against the wooden headboard. you weren’t sure you’d even make it with the pain you were feeling. “i don’t wanna walk all the way down there,” you whined in hopes he’d just come lay with you in bed.

he smiled to himself at how cute you looked. he quickly looped an arm under your back and the other under your knees, lifting you up bridal style with complete ease. “let’s go kiwi. downstairs,” he told your dog. she immediately jumped off the bed and led the way down the steps.

rafe walked through the kitchen, allowing you to catch site of the bag from your favorite restaurant. your heart fluttered at the thought of him remembering considering you only mentioned it once. it was too expensive to have often in your opinion.

he softly set you down on the couch and placed a big, fluffy blanket over you. “you wanna eat now or later?” he asked, brushing your hair past your ears to get a better look at your face.

“later,” you stated quietly. “i’m not really hungry right now.”

he nodded and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “i’ll be right back, ok? i jus’ gotta change really quick,” he said, his face only inches from yours. he kissed you once more then stood on his feet and handed you the remote. “put somethin’ on.”

you could hear him quickly jog upstairs while you mindlessly scrolled through netflix until something caught your eye. you settled on a random movie in the top 10’s just as he came back, now in nothing but black sweatpants and white socks.

he moved the blanket off of you a moment and pushed your legs apart just enough for him to squeeze between them and lay on top of you with his head on your chest, listening to the calming thump of your heartbeat before throwing the blanket over the two of you again.

the weight and warmth of his was extremely comfortable and it made the pressure in your stomach ease up a little bit. one of your hands came up to play with his hair while the other rested on his back.

“you need anythin’ princess?” he asked one last time, voice slightly muffled against your chest as he watched whatever you put on.

you hummed and shook you head. “just this,” you replied surely.

his hands slipped underneath your back to wrap around you and pull you impossibly close. in this moment, you were sure you could stay here forever.

[moonstruckme]

hi Mae could do a reader with Spencer (or any boy u want!) where she's feeling super nauseous and throwing up a lot and trying to hide it from him like may be it's early on and she feels embarassed? I went out to brunch with a friend and idk what happened but I think I got food poisoning I've already thrown up twice and still feel so so sick

Ugh food poisoning is the worst, but I hope you're over it now lovely! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: vomitting, nausea

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Part of you thinks you should cancel. You’re not a very good time right now, nauseated and shaking a little from the exertion of walking from your car to the host’s stand. Spencer deserves a date that doesn’t have to scope out bathrooms like escape routes the moment she enters the restaurant. But oh, he’d been so sweet in asking you. All soft eyes and gentle voice, and he’d sent you the menu to make sure you found something you liked before he made the reservation. You know it can’t have been easy to get, at a nice place like this on a Saturday night. Really, at the end of the day, there is simply no world where you cancel on Spencer. 

You paste on a smile for the hostess, wondering if she’d find it odd if you leaned on her stand for support just for a moment. “Hi,” you say. “Um, I’m meeting someone, I think he’s already…” 

A touch at your elbow prompts you to turn. 

“Hi,” Spencer says. 

You go a bit breathless at the sight of him. Spencer in a suit. His hair still messy as if he ran his hands through it after leaving home, the top button of his shirt open like he had it done up all the way and then felt too constricted. He looks handsome and endearing and nice. Your sundress and half sweated-through makeup feel suddenly, hopelessly inadequate. 

“Hi,” you say back. “Sorry, I thought you’d already be sitting down.” 

“I wanted to wait for you,” he replies simply. He turns to the hostess. “For Reid?” 

As she walks you to your table, it dawns on you what an idiot you are. Possibly the only thing you could do to Spencer that would be worse than cancelling on him would be to show up as you are now. Listless and unprepared for conversation. You’re going to have to order either the smallest thing on the menu or nothing at all, and he’s going to think you don’t want to be here with him. And for yourself, you want to experience this—a first date, with Spencer, and quite possibly your only date—with all the appropriate butterflies and nervousness. Instead, you just feel…tired. And sick. 

“This is really nice,” you say as you sit down. 

“Yeah?” Spencer reaches for the carafe in the center of the table, pouring water into your glass and then his own. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve only been here once, but I thought it was good then, so. I hope you like the food.” 

He spills a little bit of water on the tablecloth, missing his glass. Winces as sharply as if he’d shattered it. Oh god; he’s nervous. You’re going to so disappoint him. 

“Sorry I was late.” You take your water, the cool glass against your hand a relief. “I was…” Well, you were vomiting in your bathroom. “I got a bit tied up on my way out.” 

“That’s okay,” he says easily. “You look really beautiful.” 

You wish you could tell yourself he was only a good liar. You feel clammy, and disgusting, and entirely undeserving of sitting across from him, but it’s all earnestness in Spencer’s puppy brown eyes. 

“Thank you.” Your voice has gone soft with sincerity. “You look very handsome, too. I’ve never…I don’t think I’ve seen you in a suit.”

Spencer smiles, bashful. “I should probably wear them more for work. Most of my team does.” 

“I like what you wear,” you say. “It suits you. Very professor-y.” 

Drinking water was a bad idea. You’ve been too greedy for the cool feel of it going down your torn-up throat; your glass is nearly empty already, and already it wants back up. 

“It would probably be more professional if I dressed like the others, though.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. Adorable. “I am a professor, but I’m also a profiler, so…” Spencer’s smile slips when you swallow against the nausea tightening your throat. “Are you okay?” 

You press your lips into a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t think there’s anything unprofessional about your regular clothes. I like your cardigans.” 

“They’re not…they’re not unprofessional, I guess, but I…” You can see Spencer’s brain working, his eyes moving over your face as you struggle to appear attentive. “Sorry, are you sure you’re okay? You look uncomfortable.” 

You could almost laugh, if you weren’t feeling so awful. Trust Spencer to tell it like it is. 

“I’m okay,” you say. “Sorry, I’m not feeling great, but I’m fine.” 

“You’re not?” Spencer looks troubled. Sad, puppy brown eyes. 

Oh, and there are the nerves you’d been missing. Malicious, evil butterflies turning your stomach into an inhospitable environment. 

You stand, your chair squeaking against the floor. “I’m so sorry,” you say in a rush. “I’ll be right back.” 

You are not, unfortunately, able to keep that promise. You spend the next twenty minutes kneeling in a bathroom stall, trying to convince yourself they probably keep the floors very clean in a nice restaurant like this while your body rejects the water you had and then several phantom meals it suspects you might’ve had while it wasn’t paying attention. When you finally emerge, Spencer is waiting outside the bathroom with a glass of water. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, taking it from him. You’re wary of repeating your mistakes, but you take a small sip to appease him before simply giving in and pressing the cool glass to your temple. 

Spencer assesses you with his gaze. You resign to it, knowing he’ll have you figured out by now whether you make it easy for him or not. 

“How long have you been sick for?” he asks softly. 

“It’s not contagious,” you want him to know. “It’s food poisoning, I’m pretty sure.” 

“That’s not…what I’m worried about.” Spencer sounds almost hurt, but his touch is gentle as he brings his knuckles to your forehead. “You didn’t have to come if you weren’t feeling well.” 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. You’re too exhausted to pretend at being anything else anymore. “It was stupid. I didn’t want to bail on you, but instead I’m ruining it.” 

“You’re not ruining it.” His first knuckle moves almost imperceptibly, a tiny caress. “This isn’t your fault. We can do this another time. Did you drive here?” 

“Yeah,” you say meekly. 

Spencer frowns. “Can I take you home? You’re too hot to be driving yourself.” 

He flushes instantly, though you weren’t going to say anything. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know.” 

“Here.” He guides you to a bench, his hand ever so gentle on your waist. “Wait here, okay? I’ll grab our stuff.” 

You’ve fully given into wretchedness. You have no shame about resting the side of your head against the wall, closing your eyes until Spencer returns with a touch to your shoulder. He’s carrying his jacket and your bag, and the sympathetic look the hostess shoots you says that he’s conveyed you’ll be abandoning your reservation. 

“You don’t have to drive me,” you say as Spencer leads you outside, one hand at your back like he’s afraid you’ll keel over. “I can get home alright. I don’t want to throw up on your nice suit.” 

“I thought you liked my cardigans best.” If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was teasing you. “Anyway, the idea that you could be sick again this soon isn’t consistent with the idea that you could get home alright.”

It’s so him, the way he reasons this out, like he’s outlining an argument you’d never honestly expect to win. It reminds you that you’re on a date with Spencer Reid, and that makes you feel worse. 

You let him shepherd you to his car and sit you in the passenger seat. He buckles his seatbelt, looks over to see that yours is on, and his hand twitches as if it’s going to reach for yours before rerouting to the ignition. 

“Spence…” 

“Hm?” 

“Just, thank you. And I’m sorry, for making us leave.” 

“It’s okay.” He says it so easily, like a given. He does reach for your hand now, his fingers closing over yours to give the gentlest of squeezes. “You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t ask to be sick.” 

“I’m really sorry I ate that sketchy pasta last night.” 

Spencer laughs. It’s a lovely sound, lovely enough to make you smile despite the roiling of your stomach. 

You say, in a softer voice, “I think it would have been a really nice date.” 

“We’ll find out,” he says surely. “Maybe next week, if you’re not doing anything. We could come back here, or go somewhere if seeing that bathroom again will make you uncomfortable. I know that for some people nausea can be a Pavlovian response. You spent…a long time in there.” 

You stifle a groan, leaning your head against the window and turning your face in humiliation. Spencer’s thumb stroking down the side of your hand makes it all worth it.

[ticifics]

Hero's Kiss

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: “Hey babe,” you said, the word coming out louder and firmer than you expected. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while.” Dave blinked again, confused. “Huh? Waiting…?” Before he could finish the sentence, you closed the gap between you, your heart racing. “Please,” you whispered, your voice soft and almost trembling. “Kiss me. Just trust me.”

Warnings: a nasty guy, but nothing serious

request from my dear @lilyypotter1234 (one of my most beloved readers in the whole world, seriously, you are absolutely cute), i hope you like it <333

It was just any afternoon, and you were walking calmly through the comic book store, trying to decide whether it was worth buying a new issue or saving your money for a little longer to buy those jeans you saw earlier. What was worth more: a new X-Men edition or a pair of jeans that would make your legs look fantastic? It was a tough choice.

You were still thinking when someone approached, a guy, probably your age or a little older, with a smile curving his lips and bright eyes. “Hey, princess,” he said, the smile widening a little more. Your eyebrows furrowed, but you replied with a “hey” before turning your eyes back to the shelf.

“Can I help you pick something out?” he continued, not picking up on your disinterest. You forced a polite smile, trying not to be rude.

“Thanks, but I think I’m good for now.”

He didn’t move away. In fact, he seemed even more determined to strike up a conversation.

“You like comics? You don’t seem like the type, you know?” He let out a light laugh, as if he was trying to be charming.

Your hands gripped the strap of your purse, the discomfort beginning to grow in your chest. “Yeah, I like them. I think everyone has their own type.”

“Oh, sure. But seriously, you seem more like the kind of girl who likes romance or fashion, not comic books.” He laughed again, but it didn’t sound so harmless anymore.

You tried to discreetly step away, but he followed every move, blocking any attempt to escape the situation.

“Hey, wait, princess. What’s the problem? I’m just being friendly.”

His words sounded almost like an accusation, laden with an insistence that made the knot in your throat tighten even more. You took a step back, but he subtly moved forward, blocking your exit. The store suddenly felt smaller, and every movement of yours seemed analyzed by that gaze that made your discomfort palpable.

You looked around, your heart hammering in your chest, desperately searching for an escape route. That’s when your eyes found him.

Dave Lizewski.

He was a little farther away, near a shelf full of limited editions. His relaxed posture was familiar, almost comforting. Dave had his head tilted to the side, completely absorbed in reading a comic book, his glasses slipping down his nose and the tips of his brown hair slightly falling over his eyes.

You recognized him immediately. You weren’t close friends, but enough to exchange a few words at school now and then. He always had a crooked smile and an awkward joke ready, making you feel like he was… safe. Maybe the only safe person right now.

Without thinking much, you made your way toward him. Your legs felt heavier with each step, like the nervousness was pulling you back, but the need to escape was stronger. When you got close, Dave finally noticed your presence, looking up from behind his glasses. He blinked, surprised to see you so suddenly.

“Hey babe,” you said, the word coming out louder and firmer than you expected. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while.”

Dave blinked again, confused. “Huh? Waiting…?”

Before he could finish the sentence, you closed the gap between you, your heart racing. Your hands briefly touched his chest, gently pushing him back against the shelf. He stumbled slightly, his eyes wide as you stood on tiptoe and brought your lips to his ear.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice soft and almost trembling. “Kiss me. Just trust me.”

Dave froze. You felt his chest rise and fall quickly under your hands, and for a moment, you feared he might push you away. But he didn’t have time to react. Before any words could leave his mouth, you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss started hesitantly, a light, unsure touch. But then you felt Dave relax. His hands, which had been by his sides, rose with an almost adorable hesitation, resting on your waist. His fingers were warm against your skin even through your clothes, and the touch was enough to make your heart leap.

What started as a request for help quickly turned into something more. The kiss gained a depth that surprised you. It wasn’t just the nervousness, the desperation to escape the previous situation—it was a real, intense moment. His lips were soft, but there was a firmness in the way he held you, as if he wanted to anchor you there.

When you finally pulled away, the world around you seemed to have disappeared completely. Dave looked at you like he’d just been struck by lightning. His face was flushed, his eyes sparkling behind the lenses of his glasses.

“I… Sorry, I…” you started, but the words seemed tangled in your throat.

Dave blinked a few times, clearly trying to process what had just happened. “What… Why…?”

You took a deep breath, looking over your shoulder. The guy who had been bothering you was still nearby, but now he was looking at you with a disapproving expression, as if he’d finally gotten the message. Turning your eyes back to Dave, you felt warmth rise in your face.

“There was a guy behind me. He was… persistent. I didn’t know what to do,” you explained, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. “I thought you could help.”

Dave followed your gaze toward the guy, and something in his expression changed completely. The discomfort and surprise faded, replaced by something much firmer, something that seemed like protection.

“You said he was bothering you?” Dave asked, his voice lower now, but filled with a seriousness that caught you off guard.

You just nodded, unable to find the words. It was strange seeing Dave like this. At school, he always seemed a little lost, with geeky t-shirts and books under his arm. But now, with his eyes locked on the guy and his posture more upright, he seemed like a different person.

“I get it,” he said, almost to himself. Before you could react, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders.

The touch was firm, but in a way that made you feel protected, not trapped. He pulled you closer, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his fingers gently squeezing your shoulder in a small, reassuring gesture. Your body reacted before your mind could process it, relaxing under his touch.

Dave took a step forward, positioning both of you directly in the guy’s line of sight. His gaze was firm, more so than you’d ever seen it. There was no hesitation, just a calm confidence that contrasted completely with the Dave you thought you knew.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked, his tone calm but loaded with a clear intent.

The guy looked at both of you, his face contorted in a mix of confusion and irritation. He seemed to size Dave up for a moment, as if deciding whether it was worth responding.

“No, no problem at all,” he muttered, finally looking away. The discomfort was evident, but he took a few steps back before disappearing through the store.

You let out a sigh you hadn’t realized you were holding in. The tension that seemed to hang in the air began to dissipate, but Dave’s arm was still around you, warm and secure.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you. His tone was completely different now—softer, almost affectionate.

“Yeah, I…” You looked at him, noticing for the first time how close he was. Dave’s face, always marked by shyness and awkward expressions, now seemed more serious, more present. But the blush coloring his cheeks betrayed that he was still the same sweet guy, even though he had just completely surprised you.

“I just… didn’t expect this from you,” you admitted, your voice coming out quieter than you meant.

He laughed, a short, almost nervous sound. “This what? That I could scare off a guy with glasses and a Batman shirt?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, that. This side... protective. It’s different.”

He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, his arm still around your shoulders as if he didn’t want to break the façade you two had created. “Well, I’m not too bad at it, right? I just thought… I couldn’t leave you alone with that guy.”

There was something in the simplicity of his answer, in the honesty without pretense, that made your heart warm.

“Thank you, Dave. Seriously. You… made me feel safe,” you said, and there was no hiding the smile that accompanied your words.

He looked at you for a moment, and his smile appeared slowly, like it was contagious. “I’m glad to hear that. Anything… just call me, okay? For anything.”

You felt his arm tighten slightly around your shoulders, such a small gesture but one that said so much. Dave Lizewski—always awkward, always a bit shy—had just transformed, at least in your eyes, into someone you knew you could trust.

When Dave’s arm finally moved from your shoulders, the space between you seemed to have subtly, yet intensely, changed. It wasn’t just the kiss or the uncomfortable situation you had just faced. It was the way he looked at you now, with that glimmer in his eyes that you didn’t remember seeing before, a mix of concern, mild surprise, and… something else. Something sweet and almost vulnerable.

You felt strange with the proximity, as if the world around you had shrunk, and you two were the only ones there. The touch he had given your shoulders still felt warm, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something much more between you than just a simple act of help.

Then, without meaning to, the question came out, impulsive but full of sincerity that you couldn’t hide.

“And can I… thank you properly, hero?”

Dave froze, his eyes widening in surprise, and you saw the blush spread across his face adorably fast. It was as if the world was playing with him, weaving another layer of embarrassment that made him even cuter. He ran a hand through the back of his neck, clearly nervous, trying to find an answer that didn’t sound completely flustered.

“Uh… Uh… Sure. I… I don’t know… well, what do you have in mind?”

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. His nervousness, the way he was still trying to keep control, made you feel a surge of affection for him, more intense than you expected.

Without answering, you took a step closer, keeping your gaze fixed on him. He seemed a little lost in you, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses, and you couldn’t resist. This time, when your lips met, it was different. There was no rush, no expectation, just a sweet kiss filled with affection that made everything around you disappear.

The kiss started light, but soon turned into something deeper, softer. As if, somehow, this gesture was the only thing that made sense. His tongue touching yours, lips moving in perfect harmony, every touch and movement making the world calmer, more certain.

When you finally pulled away, you were still so close that the air between you seemed charged with something new, something beginning to form.

Dave looked at you, his eyes brighter than before, and let out a nervous little laugh, his voice husky. “I… I liked that.”

“Me too,” you replied, smiling shyly. “But… what now?”

He hesitated for a second before running a hand over his face, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “Well… if you want, we can do this right. Like, in a place… without weird guys and comic book shelves in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow, smiling, a feeling of happiness spreading in your chest. “Oh, yeah? And where would this ‘place’ be?”

“Maybe a café? A movie? Or whatever you want. The point is… I want to see you again, outside the store. No weird stuff bothering you. Just the two of us.”

Your smile widened, and a wave of warmth filled your chest. Something inside you warmed with his words, with the sweetness he conveyed, the way he seemed to genuinely care, in such a simple and genuine way.

“I’d love that,” you said. “Can we set it up… for any day next week?”

Dave gave a shy smile, still with his hand on the back of his neck, like he was trying to keep control, but the smile couldn’t have been more sincere. “It’s a date. I’ll call you.”

You nodded, still smiling, and he looked so radiant at that moment that the world around you seemed brighter, easier to navigate.

[sturnmeovr]

“Okay, okay,” Matt chimes in over the mixed chatter in the room, “open mine next!” You watch as he holds up a small, wrapped present, handing it to his mom; the family quickly forms an assembly line, passing the neatly wrapped present one by one until it reaches you, “this is for Chris?” 

“It’s for both of you,” he replies, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips. A grin you were way too familiar with since you had been in a roommate situation with your boyfriend's two brothers since you discovered you were pregnant. You were very much used to Matt’s little pranks he loved pulling on Chris. You thought it was hilarious how Chris never saw it coming, always left embarrassed or laughing so hard he was in tears. Secretly, you prayed your son would have a sibling, that they’d one day share a similar bond that their dad had with his brothers. You bite back a giggle as a smile makes itself known on your lips, you hand the present over to Chris, “you open it.” 

The whole room watches as Chris tears the present open much like a kid on Christmas morning. Completely oblivious to his brother's scheme, his face lights up bright red as does yours once he reveals the present, holding it up for everyone to see. A box of Trojan condoms – ultra thin to be exact. You knew they were Chris' go-to because you two abandoned the half-used box in his nightstand drawer the minute your pregnancy test came out positive.

Embarrassment rises to your chest, and you let out a barely noticeable gasp, slapping a hand over your mouth. Granted it was obvious you were very pregnant; it was unsettling knowing everyone knew sex was what led to you being in the position you were in now — pregnant as fuck on Christmas Day, your belly so big you had to maneuver sideways thru most tight spaces. 

The room erupts in fits of laughter, a few snorts being let out in the process, only adding a darker shade of redness to your freshly powdered cheeks. A shit eating grin plastered on Matt’s face, “I was gonna say I didn’t want any nieces or nephews anytime soon but looks like it's a little too late for that one,” he snorts. You look over at Chris wide-eyed almost like you’re pleading to him for an escape route. He reads you perfectly, clearing his throat, “haha — very funny, asshole,” he shoots out before throwing the box of condoms at his brother. He wraps an arm around you, letting you bury your face into his chest as the laughter fades out, your baby’s grandfather makes sure to add, “better late than never, right?” 

wc - 455

♡‧₊˚ Ofc I seen the video and thought of this immediately lmaoo. Send me asks or suggestions about thes two!! Also make sure your tissues are ready for the next babydaddy!Chris x sweetheart!Reader fic 🫣 (im so srry I love you all, but it was bound to happen)

Tags - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @sweetshuga @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people @shadowthesim @immy08 @trevorsgodmother @watercolorskyy @thepubeburgler @courta13 @luvr4miya @chrislilcumslvt @strnilolover @sagesturns @slut4chris888 @watermelonstarzz @purpledragon222 @reidshearts @sophand4n4 @mattssslutbby @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturnslutz @sturniolo101 @sturniolos-manslut19 @stvrniolostan

babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

Requests/asks are always open!

© M00NL1GHTS1VT - please do noy copy my work

[newobsessionweekly]

Puppy

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x fem!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: While you visit Tim at the station, you are too nice to a teenager he just arrested. To your boyfriend's exasperation, you pay the bail for the kid and cook him a warm dinner.

Warnings: don't think so, pure fluff, not proofread yet

Fluff Requested: Yes Words: 2.5k

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

"So," Lucy began tentatively, stealing a glance at the sergeant. "I saw you the other day. Looking at those rings."

"Chen." Tim warned his aide.

"Are you proposing to Y/N?" she pressed, her excitement bubbling over.

"That's not your business."

But Lucy wasn't about to let it go. "Look," she said eagerly, "If you need help picking the ring, I can help. I can – I don't know, have a little talk, find out what kind of ring she wants."

"I've got this, thanks," his voice was tinged with a hint of annoyance.

"We both know you don't." Lucy leaned back, "An engagement ring is not just any jewelry she can hide in a closet if she doesn't like it."

"I think I know what she wants."

"Remember her birthday present?" she reminded him, earning an accusing glance from Tim. "Just saying. Please, at least consider it, for Y/N."

Lucy opened her mouth to say more, but Tim's eyes caught something up ahead. His expression shifted to one of relief, a welcome distraction from Lucy's insistence.

"Hold that thought."

She followed his gaze and saw a young boy attempting to break into a parked car. The kid couldn't have been more than fifteen, his hands fumbling nervously with the lock. Tim pulled the shop to a stop and got out, Lucy following closely behind.

"Dispatch, this is Sergeant Bradford. We've got a possible 459 in progress at the corner of 4th and Main."

"Hey! Step away from the car!" Tim called out, his voice authoritative.

The boy froze, his eyes wide with fear. He turned to run, but Lucy was already moving, cutting off his escape route. "It's okay," she said gently, her demeanor softening. "We're not here to hurt you."

Tim approached, his expression softening just a bit."What do you think you're doing?"

The boy stammered, "I—I wasn't going to steal it, I swear. I just... I need some money. My mom's sick, and we can't afford the meds."

The boy looked down at his feet and Lucy sighed, recognising the familiar signs of desperation. "Look, we can help you. But breaking into cars isn't the way to go."

"You need to come with us and tell us everything. We'll figure something out."

The shop was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the sound of Lucy's fingers tapping on her phone. Tim glanced over at her, his focus shifting between the road and his aide's ever-present curiosity.

"TouristPlanet says that Hawaii is number one for proposals," Lucy broke the silence, her eyes never leaving the phone.

"Chen, I don't need help. I've done it before, I know how it works," Tim replied, exasperated but with a hint of amusement.

Lucy ignored his brush-off. "Oh, but I love Y/N! I just want everything to be perfect for her. I mean, it's huge."

Tim sighed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "And you don't think I love her enough to make this special?"

"I didn't say that," Lucy replied quickly. "You've done it before, it's not a big deal for you. But it's her first proposal and she loves you."

"It is a big deal," Tim admitted, his voice softer now. "I think I love her even more than I loved Isabel back then. So it's more complicated now."

Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise, a soft smile spreading across her face. "You have a heart after all."

"Chen. Shut up." he shot her a warning sideways glance, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, sir."

As you step into the bustling station, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sugary donuts fills the air, mingling with the sound of urgent radio chatter and shuffling footsteps. You clutch the cardboard tray tighter, a smile playing on your lips as you navigate through the familiar chaos, scanning the faces for Tim's unmistakable handsomeness.

Not finding him among the desks, you make your way to Grey's office, offering a cheery wave before stepping inside.

"Morning, Sarge."

Grey glances up from his paperwork, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Y/N. Always a pleasure to have you around," he responds welcoming.

With a graceful motion, you offer him a cup of steaming coffee and gesture towards the assortment of donuts nestled in the box. The sergeant chuckles softly, accepting the offering with a nod of appreciation.

"Please do come more often," he jests, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I'll keep that in mind," you reply playfully but your attention is elsewhere, your gaze still searching the room for that familiar figure. "You know where I can find Tim?"

With a knowing nod, Grey gestures for you to follow him as he leads the way towards the processing room. As you step inside, the atmosphere shifts from bustling activity to a more subdued intensity.

"Bradford. You have a visitor," Grey announces, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Tim looks up from his paperwork, his gaze meeting yours, and a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His gaze lifts, his expression softening at the sight of you standing there, a welcome interruption to the monotony of his day.

"Hey," he greets you, a flicker of surprise in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

You set the tray of treats down on a nearby table and close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. "Hey handsome," you reply, your voice muffled against his chest. "You left early and I thought you could use some coffee."

Tim’s strong arms pulled you closer, the familiar scent of his cologne mingles with the coffee and donuts, grounding you in the moment. You feel his strong, warm body melting in your arms and the steady beat of his heart, a gentle reminders of how much you love him.

Pulling back slightly, you look up into his eyes, which are now filled with a gentle warmth that belies his grumpiness.Tim’s hand finds yours, giving it a gentle squeeze before he releases you.

"You’re a lifesaver."

Lucy wander into the room, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the treats. "Y/N, you spoil us," she teases, reaching for a donut.

Your eyes drift across the room, settling on a teenage boy obediently following an officer's commands, his shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. Concern wells up inside you.

"Tim," you ask softly, nodding towards the boy, "what's with the kid? What's he doing here?"

He glances over at the kid, his expression hardening. "Kid tried to break into a car. Said he needed the money to pay for his mom's meds."

Your heart aches at the sight of the innocent boy, his face etched with fear and worry. "What's going to happen to him?" you ask, your voice soft with concern.

Tim sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "He'll probably get away with bail. First offense, and the circumstances are... mitigating."

Moved by the boy’s plight, you make a decision. “Tim, can I have your card?” you ask, reaching out your hand.

Your boyfriend eyes you warily, his brow furrowing. "Why?"

"Just trust me."

He frowns but doesn't question your request further. He fishes a card from his pocket and hands it to you. As you reach for the box of donuts, his frown deepens.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" he asks, his voice rising with annoyance.

You stop to meet his gaze, "Trust me, please."

Tim watches you walk over to the boy and kneel down, his jaw tightening. "This is ridiculous," he mutters under his breath, his grumpiness evident as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Can I have a minute with him?" you ask Lucy, who is in the midst of processing the boy.

Lucy looks over at Tim, seeking his approval. His eyes narrow, but he gives a curt nod, though his frustration is palpable. Lucy steps aside, joining your boyfriend as they watch you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Hi, there." you say softly, your voice kind and shooting, "I'm Y/N. What's your name?"

"Charlie."

"Well, Charlie, Sergeant Bradford told me you're in some kind of trouble." you say gently, your heart breaking at his situation.

The boy looks up at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I– I just want to help mom."

"I know, sweetheart. You hungry?" you ask, offering him a comforting smile.

Charlie nods, and you hand him the box full of donuts. His eyes widen in surprise and gratitude as he takes it.

You write your name and number on Tim's card and hand it to him. "It's gonna be okay for now. But if you have any other problems, please give us a call. If you don't want to talk to Bradford, you can call me, okay?"

"Thanks. I– I will," Charlie says, clutching the card like a lifeline.

"Where's your mom?" you ask, wanting to understand more about his situation.

"In hospital. She– uh, she has cancer and treatment is expensive."

"You stay with her at the hospital?" you ask gently, your mind already made up to help him.

Charlie nods, tears brimming in his eyes. Determined to do more, you know you'll pay his bail and offer any support you can.

Tim strides over, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern. His grumpiness, which had momentarily melted away, returns in full force. "Alright, that's enough," he says, his voice firm and edged with frustration. "We need to get things moving."

You stand up, giving Charlie one last reassuring smile. "Remember, call me if you need anything," you say before turning to Tim.

He looks at you, his irritation clear. "Y/N, you can't save everyone," he mutters, shaking his head. "This isn't your job."

You meet his gaze, "I know. But I can try to help one," you reply softly.

"You really shouldn't get involved like that," he says, his voice softer now, filled with concern.

"I know."

He sighs, reaching to take your hand into his. "But I love that about you. Just...promise me you'll be careful. For my sake."

You squeeze his hand, smiling warmly. "I promise."

The end of the shift greets Tim and Lucy walking towards their cars, the sky darkening with the onset of evening. The station is quieter now, the earlier hustle and bustle giving way to the calm of a winding-down day. He's itching to get home, to feel the warmth and comfort of your presence, to escape the relentless grind of the day.

"Hey, Tim," Lucy starts, glancing at him curiously. "Did you pay the bail for that Charlie boy we arrested this morning?"

Tim raises an eyebrow, surprised. "No, why?"

"Because someone did," Lucy explains, frowning. "I checked, and he doesn’t have any other family besides his mom. I can't figure out who would have done it."

His eyes narrow, and then it hits him. "I think I know who."

The drive home is a blur as he processes the day's events. When he finally steps through the front door, he’s greeted by the comforting aroma of dinner cooking and the sound of upbeat song playing in the background.

"Sweetheart, I'm home," he calls out, his voice echoing through the house.

You turn around, a bright smile on your face. "Hey, babe. Come, come. Dinner's almost ready."

Tim steps into the kitchen, and his eyes widen in pure shock as he spots Charlie sitting at the island, a plate of snacks in front of him.

"Y/N, a word," Tim says, his voice tight.

"Make yourself at home, Charlie. We'll be right back."

You give the kid a big smile while Tim forces a very strained one, then you follow him to the bedroom. He closes the door behind you with more force than necessary, his frustration evident.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Tim demands, his voice rising in anger.

"I know, I'm sorry. I should've talked to you. But I couldn't let him stay in jail. He's been sleeping in a hospital chair, Babe. God knows when it was the last time he had a proper, warm meal. There's no one to look after him."

Tim runs a hand through his hair, his anger barely contained. "I can't believe you did that. You’ve got ourselves a puppy," he mutters, his tone sharp.

"What?" you ask, confused.

"Nothing."

You place a gentle hand on his arm, your eyes pleading. "Tim, listen to me. This kid needs help. He's scared and alone. I couldn't just walk away."

You step even closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the tension in his muscles.

"You can't just bring home a stray. This is serious, Y/N. We're not a shelter."

"Charlie is not a stray, he needs help. His mom is in the hospital with cancer, and he's been trying to fend for himself," you explain, "We have the means to help him, at least for one night."

"This isn't just about money or means, Y/N. It's about safety and boundaries. We can't take in every kid with a sob story."

"I get that, but this isn't just any kid. You saw him today, baby. He's not a criminal; he's just a boy trying to help his mom," you argue, stepping closer to him. "We can't turn our backs on him."

Tim's frustration is simmering beneath the surface. "Damn it, Y/N. This is exactly why I worry about you. You have a big heart, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

You rested your head on his chest. "I know. But I can't just turn my back when someone needs help. I get involved because I care," you say softly, meeting his eyes, "And you care too, whether you want to admit it or not."

"I can't say no to you, can I?" he mutters, his voice a mix of exasperation and affection.

You smile up at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Tim looks at you, his grumpiness warring with his love for you. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," he sighs again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you even closer, "Just one night," he says, "And then we figure out what to do next."

You nod, relief flooding through you. "I promise. Just one night."

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, his grumpiness is melting away, "You're impossible, you know that?" a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I know," you reply, smiling back at him. "But you love me anyway."

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, I do," he admits, his voice tender. "Now let's go see how our guest is doing."

[na0koz]

jinx getting jealous and makin u pay for it :P

nsfw!!! MDNI. cw: blood, knives, kinda dubcon i guess?, strap use

anon request! wouldn’t let me respond to it in a post. this is my first time writing proper smut sorry if it’s bad

toxic!jinx masterlist

today was one of the few days you weren’t planning on hanging out with jinx, but obviously you ended up doing just that. jinx was just checking up on you, watching you work from the very back corner of the cute little coffee shop you were studying in (sometimes she is baffled by the fact that you have never ever noticed her stalking you. she is in plain sight half the time) when someone from your class comes in and approaches you at your table.

you smile up at them, moving your bag so they can sit opposite you and the two of you start chatting. several minutes go by, your studies long forgotten as you get to know your classmate, someone who you hadn’t really spoken to much before. jinx on the other hand, hasn’t moved a muscle and has barely even blinked as she watches the interaction unfold before her, eyes flickering between the two of you before noticing your classmate pulling their phone out.

jinx damn near gets up out of her seat when she sees you take their phone and type what jinx assumes was your phone number. she finally moves, though only to start bouncing her leg up and down, waiting for an opportunity to question you. she’s bitten her lip so hard that it bleeds.

after what feels like an eternity, your classmate leaves. jinx already knows their name and perhaps even their address after somehow finding a list of everyone in your class and researching each of them. they will face their punishment in due course. as soon as the door closes behind them, jinx is up and stomping towards your table.

the sudden movement opposite you as she sits down causes you to look up again from your laptop and you exclaim upon seeing her. “oh! hey jinx.”

jinx doesn’t say anything in return, just licks the remaining half-dried blood from her lip.

“who was that?” she questions, leaning on her forearms over the table. she sounds annoyed, and you really really hope she isn’t as angry as she sounds.

“someone from my class. they just wanted to borrow some notes they had missed,” you explain as you gather your stuff up and put it in your bag. you know she’s gonna make you leave with her so you might as well prepare.

“hm. whatever, let’s go.”

you follow jinx out of the shop and she grabs your arm to pull you along beside her while she thinks of the quickest route back to either of your houses.

you end up at her house, the door locked behind you as you push your shoes off. jinx tugs your bag off your shoulder for you, dropping it to the floor with a thud before leading you to her room.

she starts yanking off your jacket, your clothes and finally your underwear. she sheds a couple of her own layers, but pauses when she’s just in her underwear and a tight cropped tank top. you can’t say you’re not turned on, and you brace yourself for the teasing that will likely follow when jinx forces your legs open.

in the time you imagine how she’s going to chide you for how wet you’re getting over literally nothing, she’s managed to get her strap on and pulls you onto your stomach, bending your knees for you so you’re face down, ass up on her bed. she continues wordlessly as she begins tying a turquoise rope around your wrists behind your back.

jinx lines up her dick with your already dripping hole and pushes in, making you whine into the mattress. still without a word, she starts fucking you, and hard.

you quickly build up to your orgasm, chanting jinx’s name like a prayer begging her to let you cum.

she replies with a simple “go on.” and you cum hard on her dick, a few tears escaping your eyes and soaking the sheets below.

tonight, it’s her goal to make sure you know she’s the only one who can give you what she can, as well as she can.

jinx coaxes a few more orgasms from you with her strap before she decides to opt for a new method to make you feel so good you cry.

she pulls your fucked out body into her lap and drags your arms behind her head so they looped around her neck, still bound together by the blue rope. she kicks her legs under yours to force them open and keep them that way. then, she shoves two of her fingers into your mouth.

instinctively, you start to suck, tongue curling around her slender fingers.

“mhm, that’s it. good girl.” jinx muses as she watches your lips puckering around her digits. it surprises you how much she can change when she’s fucking you, becoming dark and dominant over you.

she pulls her now wet fingers out of your mouth with a pop and traces them down the valley of your chest, along your stomach down to your pussy. she teases your clit and your puffy folds for a second before plunging her fingers into your sensitive hole. you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut, failing to notice jinx reaching behind her as she grasps for her assault knife. the one with the hot pink and turquoise handle she made herself.

as she curls her fingers inside of you, she gently prods your inner thigh with the knife and you twitch at the sudden pain. you open your eyes and look up at her, not being able to restrain the whimpers coming from your throat as jinx continues fingering you with her knife still poking you, threatening to pierce your skin.

“ji-… hurts..” you can barely get a word out from how tight the coil inside of you is.

she’s not letting you reach your orgasm on purpose. you hear her giggle at your whining through the haze of your pleasure.

“you gonna cum?” she sings at you. she’s just teasing your for her own pleasure now. freak.

“please…jinx. wanna cum so bad..” you plead with her.

“y’know no one else can make you cum like this, baby. no one else can do what i do.” she begins to drag the knife up to the space between your tits.

jinx doesn’t feel like drawing any blood from you today, but she doesn’t need to tell you that right now. she just needs to make you know that you’re hers. she owns you and she needs to punish you for making her jealous.

“tell me i’m the only one who can make you cum.” she presses down with the blade, hearing you moan even louder. she’s changed her mind now. she pulls the knife down a little, drops of blood blooming on your chest.

you’re writhing in her grip now. you’re so so close to cumming but she just won’t let you.

“go on. tell me.” jinx says bluntly before dipping her head down to lick the blood off you.

“yo-..! you’re the only one jinx! the only one who can make me cum! please- please let me..” you cry as your sentence dies on your tongue, brows furrowed and eyes shut.

she hums. “see, baby? wasn’t so hard.” she puts the knife down and finally fucking you just that little bit harder.

the band in your belly snaps and you cum so hard you see stars. your hot juices spurt out of your convulsing hole over jinx’s palm and her bedsheets. she licks the tears from your cheeks and strokes your hair with her free hand.

you relax against her, breathing heavily as she wipes the small wound she made with a cloth she had on her nightstand. she lets you calm down a little more before cleaning up your soaked pussy.

you think it’s probably best to ignore any texts from your classmate, and pretend you typed your number wrong. for their sake, not yours.

[keen-li]

Soft launch | jk

Summary: The one where you’ve been a solo OF creator for some time, but now your viewers are requesting to see you with a partner, but you only have...Jungkook as an option. Your closest friend.

18+ MDNI.

Jungkook x fem reader.

Friends to FWB, smut.

Warnings: filmed coitus, kissing, a down bad Jungkook?, fingering, neck kisses, implied virgin reader, penetration(protected.) sweet after care.

Note: smut practice No.1

A/n: this is just practice and i worked on it so fast there could be errors but I did try to edit it. i don’t know how to write smut so I’m working on it. If you think it’s cringe or don’t like it please don’t tell me 😊, I don’t want to know. This is just for fun and no thought.

Any positive, reply, ask or reblog is appreciated

Wc: 2.2k+

╰⊰♡⊱╮

“Really?” when you ask to clarify and he nods, you’re already getting excited. “Let me restart the video.”

You skip to the camera, making sure to end the previous one.

You’ve been doing filming for over a year now, you’re still new but it’s shocking how you’ve grown a large audience already.

Filming pays you so well that you’ve taken it up full time. And with that you’ve had to get creative.

You always did your work solo, it was comfortable and what made you feel the most confident. The people loved it. But it can get monotonous at times, and they made sure to let you know.

You’ve never minded requests; they help you alleviate the pressure of thinking of how to be creative next. So, when people start requesting you to get a partner, it made you do a double take.

Working with someone isn’t something you mind doing. But what really concerned you was your comfortability. You couldn’t walk up to a random person and ask if they could film with you. You never had friends in the industry, and only one male friend. Your female friends don’t swing that way.

So, you were stuck.

But then your thoughts went back to the only male friend you have. Jungkook. He was single and supported what you did.

So, would he help you?

You were scared to ask, but it was worth the shot. If he said no then you could pretend it was a lie. He was very open minded to things, so could he be to this? It’s definitely playing at the seams of things you’ve never thought of in your friendship.

So, it was a shock to you when he said yes, very quickly as well.

“Maybe you should hold the camera.” You tilt your head to the side, doubting what route you should go with this. “For a better angle you get?” he nods.

Cause of the job people wouldn’t believe you’ve actually never slept with anyone before. That’s the main reason you don’t have other male friends. They’d always try to sleep with you. You were never interested in that. and that’s what made Jungkook different.

He never tried to sleep with you, you’d joke flirtishly, but it was never more than that. That’s why you feel comfortable enough to do this with him.

Plus, the other guys always judged you or slut shamed you for what you did. But Jungkook never did, he’s actually the one who bought you the camera you’re using currently.

He also taught how to set up and direct yourself. And the reason he’s here tonight was to help you film a video.

“I’ll hold it.” He says walking over to grab the camera from your grip, his fingers brushing past you longer than normal.

It’s Jungkook, filming should feel easier. “it’ll feel more natural.”

You just nod. You’ve been filming most of your content by yourself and still don’t get the camera thing.

You’re glad he’s here.

“You want me to--” the gesture you make with your hands has him laughing. You pout though and he stops.

“You want to be a fluffer?” the smile from the laugh lingers.

“I’m just asking.”

He chuckles.

“I’ll be fine.”

Thanks to the video you were recording before, he’s partially there.

Watching the way, you touched yourself, how soft your breaths and moans escaped your plushie rose lips. It was a sight to see.

You know how to touch yourself but you definitely need someone to show you deeper pleasure.

“Kook, stop teasing.”

“Content. I’m sure the people like to see little desperation.”

“This video’s gonna be an hour long if you keep that up.”

“I don’t mind.” He has a cheeky smile on his face but you’re having none of it. “Fine. You’re the boss.” He’s only letting you have your way cause it for your page, and he wants to respect the request. but if it was what he wanted, that mouth would’ve been too caught up to whine.

Jungkook pulls your panties off. You have no clue how he does it so swiftly with one hand. He gets it done and now he can stare at your wetness.

“you’re staring.” You inform him like he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Again...if it was on his terms.

“Is this for me?” he runs a cold finger through your folds. You lay ass at the edge of the bed and he stands between your thighs.

You bite your lower lips the longer he traces through them. Is this what it feels like to have someone else do it.

“it’s for the camera.”

“Hard to believe when I’m the one with a finger in you.” At that a finger slips into you. Slow, but determined you fully settle in. You’ve done it yourself before, so why does it feel new with his.

“Fuck kook.” You call when another is added.

“I was supposed to eat you out but since you’re in a hurry...” they glide in and out, pulling a moan from you eat time. Jungkook grows a lopsided smile watching how you squirm just from his fingers. Sweet girl. “...we can save it for another video.”

Another video? You hadn’t though about that. Your viewers would want more, so it does make sense. But... he’s okay with doing another video.

He’s ecstatic. This would be enough. it is nice, but it wouldn’t be enough. he needs to feel you in everyway. Your weight on him, his face. The way you taste, how long would you last?

And his personal favourite.

How many times can he make you come?

All those things make him want to come back.

Not to say that he’s been thinking about this. He’s loves your friendship and loves how you get along as friends. You’ve been friends for awhile and with that comes him witnesses all the shitty guys you encounter, he’s glad you’ve never given then what they were hoping. Honestly, they wouldn’t know what to do with all this.

He wants to see you succeed and be happy, and if fucking you gets you closer to that then he’ll be here...

Right in your tight cunt...

He’s kind of hating this camera right now. Holding it and trying to touch every part of you is hard. And frustrating.

And you can sense it. “You, okay?” you sit up on your elbows and you’re met with exactly what you felt. His brows knitted and tongue poking his cheek. It’s hot when he does that. and he’s so stupid for not noticing how you drip even more after it.

“Yeah, I just need to put this somewhere.”

You knew he’d get tired of it eventually. “Let me grab the--”

“uh-uh...just lay there.” He commands and you don’t move.

He goes to grab the stand.

When he turns, he finds you on your elbows. He hopes this image of you stays on his mind forever. It’s a dangerous wish. But he’d risk it.

You can feel you mouth water when you catch the bulge clearly begging to be touched. He smacks your hand away when you reach.

“Next video I want to suck you off.” You’re not even staring at him, cause you’d see how he pokes his tongue again and his cheeks turn rosier.

Jungkook can’t deny the effect the words have on him. And now he’s getting impatient.

He loves that you’re settling into the idea. Maybe he’ll become your full-time partner. But for him fucking you is the payment; you can keep all the money you earn.

Not knowing how to respond with words he just smirks.

You want to remark how he doesn’t respond but he’s thumb on your clit shuts you up. He knew it would.

His fingers adjust to the warmth. The sounds you and your body make are ethereal. He needs to be closer. So, leaning over he latches at a nipple and your back arches immediately. You’re making sure you can be heard but unlike others, you really mean it.

He’s all over you, kissing up your chest, wet kisses on your neck. You can barely stay in one position, the pleasure of having someone else pleasure you is overwhelming. It’s a new feeling, but your body adjust quickly and you’re begging for more.

“Kiss me.”

He pauses, and when his face is in your view his eyes soften. “Really?” kissing would feel really intimate and he’s not sure if that’s what you were intending. But he doesn’t mind. Not at all.

Your nod comes out rushed and just as fast his lips capture yours. Your hands immediately move to touching anything you want. His hair, under his shirt, you tease to go lower but the pull at your lips stops you. You smile.

Your lips move simultaneously, the feeling soft but deep; proving how bad you don’t want him to stop. You need more of this feeling.

Your tongues battle for dominance, but how much of a fight is it when he’s winning. He smirks when you moan into the kiss.

And that’s all you can handle, you need more. So you pull away, confusing him.

“I need you.”

“I’m here.”

His lips are on your neck again and as much as you’d love him to keep going just like that. there’s a purpose to all of this.

“Wanna feel you.”

Immediately a hot wave of blood rushes down him. And he can only bite his lips. You really know how to shut him up.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He says against your lips. It’s unprompted but not really. It’s just everything about you, maybe he’s doomed himself by doing this. Cause even from the little he’s had; you’ve ruined him for anyone else. Not that he was looking for anyone else.

Seeing that you were solo, birth control was not a thing for you. So, he’s quick to grabbing protection. Maybe now you’ll consider the, seeing that you’re considering more of this anyways.

You watch him slip it over, his eyes on you the whole time.

When he’s between your legs, you lift your hips, just to be an inch closer to him.

“So impatient...” he mocks. “I’m not going anywhere baby.”

You hope he doesn’t.

Grabbing himself, he inches to your core but then you stop him...

“The camera kook.’

“Oh yeah.” Forgot about it.

He points the device to where you meet. He pushes your legs apart, when you threaten to close them.

“So tight. fuck” He mumbles, inching deeper and stretching you out. You wish you could reach him, claw at his back and leave marks to remind him how good this feels.

A whimper escapes your lips when he’s in deeper. The stretch stings but soon turns to pleasure. More than you’ve ever given yourself.

“You good?” he pauses and you want to yell at him for it, but you get it. The stretch feels so new and he wouldn’t want to hurt.

“Mhm.”

“Feels good?”

The moan and gasps are enough of an answer for him.

“She’s taking me so well guys.”

Shit you forgot about the camera. Should you post this? Fuck. You have to, that was the point.

Feeling like you’re more settled Jungkook begins rocking, still holding himself for control.

“Feels so good kook.” you whimper, shutting your eyes.

“I know baby.”

He’s not even moving fast and it feel like heaven. You won’t last long...shit.

More slick dripping out aides his movement. And he begins rocking faster.

You have no clue where to hold onto or what to say. You grip your sheets spewing out who knows what...his movements get faster and you’re getting louder.

Your viewer’s will love this. How he’s slipping into your cunt. How you’re inching away but he has to pull you back with one hand. How you whimper and chant his name with curses.

The slapping of skin is melodious with your moans. With the way you twitch around him he knows you’re close. So, he rubs on your clit to intensify the pleasure and you’re seeing lights.

His name spills out your mouth continuously has you feel the pressure. The knot tightens and you’re inching closer to the feeling.

“don’t stop.” You beg.

“wasn’t going to darling.” It’s the pleasure, it’s the hand that grips your thigh and it’s the pet name and if your eyes were open it would be the way he looks and smiles down at you.

He continues you rock into you and rub your clit until the knot snaps. And it’s never snapped like this.

Your body shakes and you tighten around him, bring him closer as well.

“fuck..” He grunts as he twitches into the latex like he’s never done before in a while.

You’re stuck between time. What the fuck just happened?

Jungkook slips out of you and you internally whine and the loss. He throws the rubber in your bathroom. You flinch when you feel a damp cloth on our core.

When did he even leave the room?

“You did so good.” He kisses down your sweaty chest. It feels good. When you’re alone you have no one to reassure you. So, it feels great to hear him say that.

He’s taken by surprise when you pull him and kiss his lips.

“Now, I don’t want to post it.” You pout and he watches ever inch of your features.

“That would be a waste, wouldn’t it?” he stares into your eyes not able to move away cause you’re holding him closer so kiss him. He loves it. He leans into the kiss before you’re pulling away again.

“no.”

╰⊰♡⊱╮

[erwinsvow]

imagine being in kie’s place when shy!reader and rafe got kidnapped by mr signh (ive given up his name keeps autocorrecting) and seeing him in his tux and buzz for the first time and instead of the two being scared they js fuck LOLZ😝

oh my god yes yes yes. this is my fave concept i can't believe i haven't expanded on it yet. sorry it took me a year to reply.

you have to keep reminding yourself to take deep breaths. deep in a foreign land, separated from all of your friends and trapped in a mansion with only locked doors and guards at every corner, this is probably the most anxious you've ever been.

and that is truly saying something.

you wanted to try and plead with the guards again, to explain yourself and your innocence, but you couldn't find the words. why should they believe you? what would you even say? you were never the one coming up with the crazy escape routes or talking your way out of problems. and it seemed that teary doe eyes didn't work quite as well on paid guards as it did on your best friends back home.

so you resigned yourself to start believing a singular truth—the only way out, is through. you stopped pounding fists and yelling for help, rather complying wordlessly, like when the pretty dress made its way onto your bed. you even ate the fruit in the room, deciding that you couldn't think of an escape if you starved to death first.

you don't know why the man who took you wants you clean and dressed up, but you do that too, and it's not until the door opens and you poke your head out from behind the wall, expecting the worst, do you realize just how out of the loop you really are.

you could cry.

"rafe?" you stare up at the familiar boy with watery eyes, confusion and hurt painted all over your pretty face. for a moment you believe that he might be responsible for all of this, even you couldn't have dreamed that he'd be this cruel, when-

"what the hell are you doin' here, kid?" he looks around the room quickly, like he's worried someone is going to come out from behind the walls. in one motion, he guides you to the furthest corner from the door, gripping your wrist tight while he has you sit on the edge of the bed.

"a-are you with them? t-the people outside?"

"what? no, no-they took me too. how do they have you? don't tell me those fuckin' idiots let them take you-"

"it's not their fault-"

"don't make excuses." it comes out so sternly, you shut up immediately. "i'll get us out of here. i just need to figure out-"

"b-but it's not so bad, right? at least we have each other." your words come out softly, partially because you're afraid someone will hear you and partially because you can't believe what you're saying.

your relationship with rafe is tumultuous at best. he's never had a real issue with you, and he's seen you at tannyhill with sarah several times before, but it's always been clear that he hates your friends, even if he was ambivalent—or less than—to you. you could never really tell and you didn't spend much time trying to figure it out, until now.

rafe looks back you, his eyes still showing the panic that was in yours, but mixed with something else, something you couldn't make out.

"yeah, kid. we have each other." rafe takes another deep breath, running his hands over his head, barely brushing through his buzzcut. "i'll get us out of here."

time in the room with rafe passes by slowly. you didn't know what time it was before, but rafe's watch shows that it's only noon. you can't even hear the guards footsteps anymore, the silence making your eyes droopy while you wait for something, anything to happen.

you stay perched on the bed while rafe paces, curled up into yourself and resting against the bed frame. your dress reveals most of your legs, all the way to the tops of your thighs when you sit like this, but you can't bring yourself to care right now.

you stare at rafe while he treads the tiny space, wondering when he cut his hair and if he'll ever grow it back. you liked his longer hair, you think briefly, before dismissing the thought entirely. you have no business liking anything of rafe cameron's.

but then again, he's the one here with you, trying to figure out how to get you back to safety, and your friends are the ones who got you here in the first place. you try not to think of it like that, but rafe's words from earlier seep back into your mind. he's here, you're here, and everyone else is fine. so who was going to watch after you?

"rafe?" you ask quietly, and once he stops pacing and turns to lock eyes with you, your whole face feels hot. his eyes run up the course of your exposed skin before finally making eye contact, and even in this state you can tell what thoughts just ran through his mind.

"yeah, kid?"

"do you wanna sit down? you've been walking for a while."

"i need to think, baby, otherwise i'd sit down." he resumes his pace and your entire face is on fire. the nickname is enough to make your brain short-circuit for a minute. suddenly you think that you like the buzzcut, and you like the nicknames he gives you, and you like that he keeps saying he'll get you out of there. you believe that he will, no, you know that he will.

but you're not so sure you want to leave anymore. with a surge of confidence appearing from thin air, you move towards the end of the bed, sitting with your legs hanging over the frame and facing rafe, looking up at him.

"can i help you think, rafe?"

he stops walking, staring down at you while you stare up.

"do you know what you're saying right now, kid?"

"wouldn't you think better if we calmed down first?" the words come out in one shaky breath. maybe you don't know what you're asking for, but you're certain it's what you want right now. you don't break eye contact—a first for you.

"lay back for me."

you comply immediately. it's not until a knock several hours later, with a strange man walking in on you and rafe wrapped up in his sheets, that you remember the severity of the situation you're in.

oh well.

[rileyslibrary]

Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them

Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.

Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.

You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.

“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”

“Cut it out.”

“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”

A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.

“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”

“A sharp one.”

“Stop it.”

“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”

He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.

“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”

You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.

“You’re worried.” You state.

“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”

“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.

He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”

“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”

“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”

“I just need you to be ready.”

“I am ready!”

“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”

“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”

“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.

You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.

“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”

“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”

“Knock.”

He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.

“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”

“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.

“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”

“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”

You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.

“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”

You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”

He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.

“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”

“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.

“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”

———————————————————————