#part twenty-six

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part twenty-six: distance

word count: 3.3k

warnings: this chapter contains violence and gore. reader discretion is advised.

twenty-five | twenty-six | twenty-seven

Lando didn’t need to think.

What he needed was movement.

Work—harder than ever, more ruthless, more efficient, and god help anyone who stood in his way. The weight of her arms around him, that moment of weakness—it couldn’t linger. Not in this world.

Because whatever that had been—whatever she was starting to mean to him—it was a weakness, a slow bleed in his armor. And in this world, a slow bleed was fatal.

So he compensated, overcorrected.

Within two days of returning from Brazil, he had doubled his hours at the warehouse, demanding updates from his suppliers and chemists with a level of scrutiny that bordered on manic. He started showing up to every quality control check himself, watching the men sweat under his gaze. Some of them cracked. Some of them bled.

He picked more fights. Took on riskier shipments. Approved operations that even Verstappen raised an eyebrow at.

When Carlos knocked on his office door late one night to ask if he was going home, Lando didn’t even look up from his screen. “Didn’t realize I paid you to ask stupid questions,” he said coolly. 

Carlos didn’t ask again.

The next morning, Lando was in the ring by six.

The gym was still dark when he unlocked the door himself. No music, no trainers, no echo of voices. Just the hum of the overhead lights and the steady thump of his own heartbeat, already too fast for how early it was.

He didn’t wrap his hands. Didn’t warm up.

He just went for the bag—let his knuckles split open on the leather, again and again and again. Raw, purpled arcs blooming beneath the skin—split open in one place where the wrap had come loose, the tape sticky with half-dried blood. It stung when he flexed his hand, but Lando welcomed it. 

Pain was clean. Simple. Honest in a way people never were.

It had been three days since the coffee, three days since her arms wrapped around his neck and made him feel like something other than a weapon.

He hadn't seen her since.

Instead, he buried himself in the only thing he knew how to trust: work. There were meetings now—double what he used to take. Late-night negotiations with men whose eyes darted too fast and hands trembled as they signed. More territory, more leverage. Deals struck with hard eyes and a gun under the table. Lando sat through it all like a statue, cold and unreadable, like the chair beneath him was a throne carved from bone.

Fewtrell was the first to notice, of course.

“You haven’t slept,” he muttered, after one particularly brutal morning, watching Lando wipe blood off his hands like it was nothing more than smudged ink. “And you’re bleeding again.”

Lando didn’t even look up. “It’s handled.”

Max didn’t argue. He knew better.

Because if Lando got like this—tight-lipped, volatile, spiraling inward like a storm—it meant someone had gotten too close. And Max had seen what happened to people who got too close.

The fights came next.

They existed with no purpose, no rules. There was just the sharp, metallic taste of adrenaline and the sound of fists meeting flesh in the underground ring he rarely visited these days—until now. There, under flickering fluorescent lights, sweat mixing with blood, Lando could forget and slip into something primitive. A machine of bone and instinct and rage.

He stopped pulling punches.

He didn’t stop until the man he fought stopped moving. Even then, it took two of his own men to pull him back, their voices distant over the ringing in his ears. His breath came in harsh, wet gasps, his shirt soaked through.

“Thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Max muttered after Lando took a particularly ugly hit to the jaw and spit blood into the sink like it owed him something.

“I am,” Lando said, jaw tight. “I’m just done pretending to be soft.”

And when he looked in the mirror in the locker room after—blood on his cheekbone, lip split open, eyes dark and hollow—he saw a ghost staring back.

Not her ghost. His own.

The boy who had slept in gutters and stolen fruit from markets. Who’d gone cold inside long before he learned how to make others afraid of him. Who once told himself he’d never need anyone again.

So why did it feel like something had gone missing the moment he walked away from her?

He’d spent too long feeling the afterburn of her hug—the way her arms had felt around his neck, the clean warmth of her skin, the easy trust in her body language that made something in him splinter. He hated that part. That human part. He thought he’d killed it off years ago, buried it beneath piles of money, blood, and the reputation he’d built out of nothing but brute force and raw intelligence.

But she had reached it. Worse—she had awakened it.

So now he had to kill it all over again.

One night, after leaving the ring with bloody hands and a bruise already blooming across his ribcage, he sat in the back seat of his car, staring out the window. The city was loud—horns, shouting, flashing neon light against the rain-slicked pavement—but all of it felt muted.

He thought of her again.

Of course he did.

He thought of her – not the hug, not the coffee, not the smile. No – what haunted him was the look in her eyes right after he said no.

That flicker of confusion, followed by the quick mask of understanding. The way she shrank back—not physically, not dramatically, but just enough. Like she realized she’d overstepped. Like she’d made a mistake thinking he was someone warm. Someone she could reach for.

She’s better off, he told himself, dragging a dark red smudge across his cheek. She’s better off bein’ away, better off not knowin’ what I really am.

Because the truth was, if she knew—if she saw him like this—she’d never look at him the same again. 

And maybe that was the point. If he couldn’t be touched, he couldn’t be hurt. If he kept himself cold, kept the world afraid, then nothing could break through again.

He leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes, letting the ache settle into his bones.

At night, he didn’t sleep.

He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how it felt to have her fix his collar absentmindedly, to have her scold him for eating pastries before lunch, to hear her say she’d miss him.

He hadn’t even responded properly. Hadn’t said he’d miss her too, because he wasn’t supposed to.

She was light. He was built from soot and steel and ruin.

So he leaned into the ruin. Drowned in it. Let it take him under like it always had before. Let it remind him what he was made of.

Because if he let softness rot in his chest any longer, it would only get worse. And he couldn’t afford worse. Not in this line of work, not with this name. Not when people were always waiting to find his weakness—and use it to end him.

So he burned the part of himself that missed her.

Or at least, he tried. But the bracelet was still around his wrist, tight and handmade. And no matter how many times he tried to untie it, he never quite could.

He boxed until his knuckles split and his ribs ached, until his fists were slick with sweat and someone else’s blood. Until he couldn’t feel anything except the burn in his lungs and the pounding in his ears. Until he remembered who the fuck he was.

Lando took the pain like he deserved it.

He was colder, crueler. Faster to bark orders, slower to forgive mistakes. The men around him started noticing. They stopped making jokes around him, stopped asking if he’d eaten. Even Daniel, loyal and annoyingly perceptive, had gone quiet.

"You're running yourself into the ground, mate," Daniel finally muttered one night, leaning against the ropes of the ring as Lando stripped off his gloves, hands raw and red.

Lando didn’t even look at him. Just said, flatly, “Ground’s not deep enough.”

It wasn’t about her. He told himself that often. It wasn’t about missing the way she grinned at him when he brought her coffee, or how she’d made studying feel less like drowning. It wasn’t about the way she said his name like it wasn’t something to fear.

It was about control. About reminding himself that he didn’t need softness to survive.

But alone in the dark, shirt clinging to his back, jaw clenched so tight it ached—he wondered. If he wasn’t careful, would he even remember how to come back from this?

Would she still recognize him when he did?

Or worse—what if he didn’t come back at all?

Somewhere in the middle of all of it—between a broken tooth and a dislocated thumb—Daniel cornered him again in the backroom, fists clenched and voice low.

“You think this makes you stronger?” he growled. “You think turning yourself into a fuckin’ animal is gonna fix whatever’s wrong?”

Lando didn’t answer, just stared at himself in the cracked mirror. His face bruised, blood caked on his jaw, eyes gone hollow and dark. 

He looked like something dangerous. Something empty.

Good.

Daniel tried again. “You were doing better. A week ago, you—”

“Drop it.” Lando’s voice was a knife. Sharp, final.

And for once, Daniel did. 

Because it wasn’t grief they were dealing with, it wasn’t heartbreak. It was a man tearing out the piece of himself that could have one day known love—before it got him killed.

So Lando kept going – more jobs, more blood, more shadows.

Until the boy who’d smiled at fresh lemon biscuits didn’t exist anymore.

Monday morning came with a faint chill in the air, the kind that clung to her sleeves and nipped at her skin as she locked the apartment door behind her. Her boots hit the pavement with their usual rhythm, but her eyes—almost by reflex—glanced toward the curb.

His car wasn’t there.

The spot where Liam usually parked was… empty.

She hesitated, just for a second. Long enough for a frown to twitch at her mouth. Long enough to consider that perhaps she’d been looking forward to seeing him—though she hadn’t let herself think of it that way until now.

It was objectively a stupid thing to be upset about, she told herself. It wasn’t like they had a schedule. He didn’t owe her anything. She knew that.

There was no real schedule per say – no routine set in stone. But still… it had been there last Monday. And the one before that. And—if she was honest—most days she hadn’t even realized how much she’d started expecting him.

She shook it off and kept walking, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

It doesn’t mean anything.

He had a life. A busy one. She knew that. Important meetings, complicated logistics, probably jet lag from Brazil. Maybe the trip hadn’t gone well. Maybe something came up. Maybe he had the flu. Maybe he just—

Still, her footsteps felt slower as she walked past the spot. Still, she checked her phone—nothing. No text. No update.

Maybe he just forgot.

No. That didn’t sound like him. For all his strange hours and sharp edges, Liam didn’t forget things. He remembered tiny details she only mentioned once. He got her the exact brand of coffee she liked, for god’s sake. He noticed when she was too quiet, brought her pastries when she didn’t ask, made sure she always had a way home—even when she said she didn’t need one.

Maybe he’s just tired. Brazil was a long trip. Maybe he slept through his alarm. Maybe he’s busy, or catching up on work, or—

The list of maybes was longer than it should’ve been.

She forced herself to keep walking, ignoring the twist in her stomach that had no business being there. It was just a ride. Just coffee. Just a guy doing a favor.

That’s all it had ever been.

She sat through her morning classes, half-present, highlighting case law she’d have to re-read later. Her thoughts kept drifting—uninvited, unrelenting—back to him.

This whole drop-off and pickup thing had started months ago, after the string of weird feelings that she hadn’t quite been able to shake. Like someone was watching her, following her. Nothing solid, nothing provable, but just enough to put her on edge.

Back then, she’d been jumpy. Paranoid, maybe. She couldn’t explain it, not exactly—just that lingering feeling that someone had been watching her. Following her from across the street, lingering too long near her building. It was probably nothing, she’d told herself.

And then, things changed. Liam would just show up, leaning against the hood of his car like it was the most natural thing in the world, coffee in hand, eyes already on her. He would say something casual about “sketchy corners” and “shit lighting.” He would lie and say he was heading that way anyway.

And the funny thing? She hadn’t felt unsafe since.

She hadn’t asked questions. Something about his tone had made them unnecessary.

Since then, he’d been a steady, if unpredictable, presence. Not every morning—but enough. Enough that she noticed the difference today. Enough that she’d started associating his voice with the beginning of her day. His car, parked just slightly crooked. The quiet calm of his presence beside her, never demanding, never pushy—just there.

And now he… wasn’t.

She tried not to overthink it, but she did. Of course she did.

It could have been any of a thousand different things, right?

Maybe Brazil didn’t go well. Maybe the time zone shift was hitting him hard. Maybe he caught something on the flight back. Maybe he was swamped with work. Or maybe— 

Maybe she had crossed a line.

The thought crept in slowly, but it stuck, solid and uncomfortable.

She’d hugged him, without thinking and without asking.

Her stomach turned.

God, what if that was too much?

He hadn’t exactly pushed her away, but he hadn’t welcomed it either. He’d gone stiff in her arms, like he didn’t know what to do with the contact. And then he left. Fast, like he couldn’t get away quick enough.

She shouldn’t have assumed. Just because he bought her coffee. Just because he remembered the brand and hunted it down in a foreign country. Just because he stood in her doorway like he wanted to be there.

Liam was...busy. He was a businessman. He moved through life with detachment, calm and unreadable. He probably did this for lots of people. She was just another name on a long list of good intentions.

Still, the quiet this morning had felt louder than it should’ve. His absence clung to the edges of her day like smoke. It trailed her through campus, followed her into the library, haunted the space in the corner that night when she closed up at Books & Brews.

She hated how much she noticed.

They didn’t text much. Instead of making any real conversation, she’d just send him little things. 

A picture of a dog in a tiny raincoat on her walk to class. A blurry photo of latte art she’d been practicing, captioned don’t laugh. A random quote from a book she thought he’d like, even though she knew he’d probably roll his eyes and skim it at best.

Nothing heavy, and certainly nothing that demanded an answer. Just enough to keep a line between them—thin but steady.

But then, she saw him.

She was on her lunch break, standing in line at the corner market by the office, when she glanced through the fogged-up window and caught a familiar profile by the far register. She knew that posture. Even from a distance, she could recognize the casual indifference, the way he held himself like nothing in the world could touch him.

Liam.

There he was, dressed in a sharp coat, collar turned up, half a scowl pressed into his jaw like it had been carved there.

Her eyes dropped to the cup in his hand. Paper, stamped with the logo of his old café. Not the familiar emblem of Books & Brews. Not the little tucked-away place with the fresh cinnamon buns he had pretended not to like and then ordered three days in a row. Back to the place he used to swear tasted like “burnt incompetence.”

It shouldn’t have meant anything.

But god, it did.

He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t explained this new distance, hadn’t replied to her last few messages except for a thumbs-up and a vague “lol.” No more wry comments or late-night one-liners. No more smirking emojis that didn’t match his tone but always somehow made her smile anyway.

And now—he was back at the café he’d once claimed to hate. Like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t happened.

She stepped out of line and left the store without buying anything.

She stopped texting after that.

Not all at once. It was a slow fade, the kind that almost didn’t hurt until you realized it had already disappeared.

No more pictures of dogs. No more awkward selfies with whipped cream on her nose. No more texts saying, this book made me think of you, don’t ask why. 

Just... silence.

Lando’s mornings got quieter. His phone stayed dry, empty but for meeting reminders and business alerts. No dumb memes at 2AM. No pink hearts next to her name lighting up his lock screen like it meant something.

It pissed him off more than it should’ve.

Wasn’t this what he fucking wanted?

He’d made the choice. He’d stepped back. He’d pulled the plug before it could get messy—before she could start expecting things from him that he didn’t know how to give.

So why the hell did his car still smell like her perfume?

“She ghost you?” Fewtrell asked casually, leaning against the doorframe of Lando’s office, sipping on a drink he hadn’t paid for.

Carlos looked up from the couch where he was half-asleep. “Did you finally scare her off?” “‘Bout time,” Daniel added from the armchair, flipping a stress ball in one hand. “We were beginning to think you had a soft spot.”

Lando didn’t look up from his laptop, jaw tight. “I’m busy.”

“Busy being miserable?” Verstappen quipped. “Mate, your car still smells like a goddamn rose garden. Not exactly inconspicuous.”

“Seriously,” Carlos chimed in. “You used to smell like leather and rage. What happened?”

“Shut up.”

“Come on,” Daniel said, pushing. “You think we haven’t noticed? You vanish for hours at a time. You smile at your phone like a bloody idiot. And then all of a sudden you’re picking fights with everyone. Even your punching bag looks scared.”

Lando’s eyes flicked up, cold. “Drop. it.”

“Look, I don’t care who she is,” Max said, his tone softening slightly, “but if she made you less of a dick, I kinda liked her.”

That got a muscle ticking in Lando’s jaw. He stood up, abruptly enough that the chair screeched. 

“She’s not your business!” he bellowed, heading for the door. “None of this is.”

“Then why’re you acting like you lost something?” Daniel mumbled after him.

The room was empty by then, but Daniel said what everyone was thinking anyway.

“You’re the one who let go.”

Logan’s voice cut through the radio later that week, giving an update on her security detail. Something about her late-night shift. The building entrance. A guy lingering too long near the stairwell.

Lando snapped the button to put the call through.

"She doesn’t need you anymore," he said flatly.

Logan paused. "...Sir?"

“She’s off the list. Effective immediately.”

And just like that, he cut the thread.

But sometimes, late at night, he still felt it—tight in his chest, like something he couldn’t un-pull. Something he’d let go of, only to realize too late that it might have been the very thing holding him together.

a/n: this one is my offering, especially dedicated to @oscobabe and @eclipsedcherry, whose every comment and ask makes me excited to post each chapter.

i hope u like it :)

and as always, please lmk what you think! i love hearing what y'all have to say

[bricky-brikson]

I am perfectly normal about the Psychonauts timeline

Spoiler warning for...everything.

As I was playing Psychonauts 2, I had a vibe that Ford and the Psychic Seven were active during the late 1920s, early 1930s, mostly because of the Model T Ford in Cruller's Correspondence, but also because of the biplane in the diorama of Ford fighting Maligula from Fatherland Follies. But there were some issues with that - namely the Feel Mobile which resembles more a model of van released around 1964. I feel compelled to mention it looks like the Motherlobe is trapped in the 70s, technology-wise.

So I looked up the timeline on the Psychonauts fandom wiki, as well as the blurb from Psychonauts about the history of Whispering Rock. And while clicking through the wiki, I found a copy of the Li-Po document, which contains the following line:

[...] when [Ford Cruller] was [...] away fighting for the Lincoln Brigade in the Spanish Civil War [...]

Firstly, based.

Secondly, that means Ford had to be at least 16* by 1937 (when American volunteers were sent to Spain). At least if we are to believe that this...very specific part of the Li-Po document is still canon. Which...I mean, we could. We know Ford was already an adult when he assembled the Psychic Seven, but we don't know how old he was. From the looks of him in the mental vaults and illustrations, he was definitely older than 16 (considering the full moustache). Meaning that it is possible Ford spent his younger years fighting in the Lincoln Brigade, then when he matured started looking more into his and others' psychic powers.

Possible? Yes. Plausible? Ehhh...considering the story of Psychonauts 2 is deeply tied to the trauma the Psychic Seven endured surrounding the Grulovian Civil War then the Deluge of Grulovia, I doubt that Ford's previous involvement in a very bloody battalion (22.5% of Lincoln Battalion fighters died in the Spanish Civil War) would have gone unmentioned. Since it makes no appearance in Psychonauts 2, I think it's safe to say it's no longer canon.

So where does that leave us? With the only statement from the devs (specifically Tim Schafer himself) that points us towards a date for the game's events:

"We think of it as taking place in the 80's but not necessarily the 80's, in case we need a piece of technology that we're stealing from the 90's."

So...that leaves us with a year range of 1980 to 1999. However, if technology is an issue (specifically, taking place during the 80s but needing some tech from the 90s), that means the game probably takes place in the late 80s, early 90s. I interpret this as being between 1987 and 1993. So, we've narrowed it down! Based on my arbitrary definition of "late" and "early"!**

Is there any way to narrow it down further? Unfortunately, not from what I can find - the tech we see in the Motherlobe is more reminiscent of the 60s and 70s (the computers we see on peoples' desks and in Sasha's lab look akin to a Xerox Alto, which came out in 1973), and I don't know enough about the history of other technology we see in-game to infer information about the timeline. If someone else has knowledge about things I may have missed that point us towards a date, please reblog and let me know!

Now, before I get into what I see as the timeline, I do want to address Maloof's line when you release him from the GPC.

"Nah, the staff hasn't put any kids in the GPC since the fifties."

Which goes against the timeline written on the log in the parking lot (which states that Whispering Rock Summer Camp was only created 5 years ago). I'm leaning more toward the written lore, since it's entirely possible Maloof is misinformed. After all, this is his first time at the camp. It's entirely possible Bobby (or another camper) has been lying to Maloof about the history of the staff's use of the GPC. For this reason, I'm disregarding this conflicting bit of evidence.

So! On to the actual timeline - at least, what I think it is. Starting from the beginning and working our way to the present day. I will represent the dates as a range, so "1987 - 1993" means "between 1987 and 1993." It doesn't mean that whatever event took place took that long, just that it happened at some point within that range. Good? Good! Let's go.

Brick's Speculative Psychonauts Timeline

1487 - 1493: A psitanium meteor strikes the area that will eventually be known as Whispering Rock, leaving behind a psitanium deposit.

1787 - 1793: A local indigenous group starts working with the psitanium, creating the arrowheads found in the first game, and names the area Whispering Rock (just, in their language, not English)

1887 - 1893: The mining town of Shaky Claim is established as part of the gold rush, except they're mining for psitanium. The psitanium deposit severely worsens the mental health of the people there.

1888 - 1894: The first case of 'Paranormal Hysteria' diagnosed in Shaky Claim.

1912 - 1918: Houston Thorney constructs Thorney Towers Home for the Disturbed. Ford Cruller is born.

1927 - 1933: Houston Thorney commits suicide. The town's population is less than the amount of patients in Thorney Towers.

1932 - 1938: Thorney Towers Home for the Disturbed is closed but some patients still remain. The remaining residents of the valley leave and the area is flooded, resulting in Lake Oblongata.

[At some point, Ford assembles the Psychic Seven]

1967 - 1973: The Psychic Six fight Maligula. Grulovia is flooded then trapped below the frozen floodwaters. Helmut Fullbear is presumed dead. Shortly thereafter, Ford uses the Astralathe to modify the memories of Lucretia and Augustus, then to break his own mind.

[At some point, Charlie Psycho Delta is established then swiftly abandoned]

1982 - 1988: Whispering Rock Summer Camp is established.

1987 - 1993: The events of Psychonauts, Psychonauts: The Rhombus of Ruin, and Psychonauts 2 take place all within about a week (and that's being generous).

So there! That's what I think the timeline is. Again, if you have any feedback or want to point out something I missed, please let me know! I'm new to the games/lore/fandom so 'tis entirely possible!

The implications of this timeline are...interesting. The fact that during the fight with Maligula, something that was supported by multiple countries, they're using planes from the 1910s when it's at least 1967...the world of the Psychonauts isn't less technologically advanced - they have a jet that rivals ones from 2024! So I have no clue what that biplane is doing in Gristol's memory of the fight with Maligula. Unless we consider Gristol an unreliable narrator for that detail - but even then I'm unsure why he wouldn't have assumed they were using modern technology...? IDK. It's weird.

Anyways, if you got this far, thanks for reading! I'm flattered. I always love picking apart lore and timeline details like this, no matter the fandom I'm in. So consider this my hello to the Psychonauts fandom :-)

*According to the Wikipedia page for the Lincoln Battalion, that's probably the youngest any American volunteers were. ** The way I see it: if it ends in 1/2/3, it's early. If it ends in 4/5/6, it's mid. if it ends in 7/8/9, it's late.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Learning Curve Hall-of-Famer right here. Tuvok making Chell clean the transporter room with the equivalent of a toothbrush as, I assume, a punishment of some sort & Harry coming out of left field with a 'You missed a spot <3' just to kick him while he's down. Harry, the man's gonna be there LITERALLY all day. Absolute bastards these Starfleet types <- said with love

[rocker-socks]

The way the "Brucie" persona falls apart with the slightest in universe digging because DC hates timeliness that make sense leads me to wonder how many people genuinely think Bruce just gave himself a lobotomy.

[r1caner]

Annotated soc for a secret santa gift and it has me thinking about kanej so much i literally just started crying. At the thogiht of them

[s4sharkteeth]

QUICK WHOS WINNING PIERCE OR ORANGE

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[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ do you think you’d kill for me, one day? ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous!

˚ ༘♡ the room plunged into darkness, and the air grew heavy with anticipation. bursts of violet and rose-red light erupted like fireworks, each pulse brighter and more jarring than the last. the lights burned into your retinas, blinding and relentless, painting the room in frantic, chaotic hues. shadows danced wildly across the walls, twisting and writhing as if they were living things. a smooth, mechanical voice rang out, tranquil and serene, “two.”

˚ ༘♡ you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears than the voice itself. your eyes scanned the chaos, flicking from face to face, desperate to make sense of it all. young-il, player 001, had already pieced it together. there were only fifty rooms, but one hundred and twenty-six people remained. at most, one hundred players would survive.

˚ ༘♡ suddenly, everything moved in a rapid blur. young-il, who had been quietly explaining what he believed would happen, was no longer talking. his hand shot out, gripping yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. his touch was steady, commanding, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you forward. there was no time to think, no time to question.

˚ ༘♡ your feet stumbled beneath you as he dragged you through the chaos. panic gripped your chest and clawed without mercy, your breaths coming in searing, shallow bursts. ahead, a yellow door loomed like a shelter in a storm, sanctuary, a chance of survival. sweat trickled down your temple, stinging your eyes, as the two of you surged toward it. so close. you were so close.

˚ ༘♡ then the blow came.

˚ ༘♡ it was sudden, vicious, and it knocked the air from your lungs in an instant. a sharp, heavy kick to your stomach sent you sprawling to the cold, unforgiving floor. pain exploded through your abdomen, radiating outward until it felt like your entire body was on fire. you gasped, choking on the air that refused to return to your lungs. blinking through tears, you managed to look up. a tall, wiry figure stood over you, player 285. his face was set in stone, his eyes harsh and callous. you were nothing to him. just another obstacle to trample over.

˚ ༘♡ pain fogged the edges of your vision, but fear kept you moving. trembling, you tried to push yourself up, your arms weak and shaking beneath you. the countdown timer echoed in your mind like a death knell, each second slipping away faster than the last. a sinking realization clawed its way into your thoughts, you might not make it. the notion wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing until it was hard to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ young-il was at the door now, his moderate frame blocking the entrance as player 285 lunged at him, desperate to get inside. young-il didn’t waver. with a strength you hadn’t seen in him since he bludgeoned players 230 and 124, he wrenched the metal door open wider and grabbed player 285 by the collar. his grip was iron, unyielding. in one swift motion, he threw the man backward into the frenzied crowd, far from the door.

˚ ༘♡ “go!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. the authority in his tone sent a jolt through you, and your legs moved on instinct. you scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the yellow room, the door slamming shut behind you. relief should have washed over you, but it didn’t.

˚ ༘♡ the room was drenched in horror. the walls and floor were streaked with blood, its metallic scent sharp in the air. in the corner, a man, player 343, sat quivering. his eyes were wide with terror, his hands twitching uncontrollably as he stared at you and young-il.

˚ ༘♡ young-il leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling heavily. the muffled shouts and pounding fists of player 285 echoed from the other side, but they barely registered. there were three of you in the room. the rules were clear. only two could stay. someone had to leave, or none of you would walk out alive.

˚ ༘♡ “please… please, we were here first…” the man stammered, his voice weak and desperate. his hands clutched at the wall as if it could somehow shield him. he made no move to fight, his stout body rooted to the spot.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze went to the countdown timer. twelve seconds. the world seemed to shrink, the weight of the moment pressing down on you in a suffocating fog of despair. your voice broke as you turned to young-il. “i’ll go,” you whispered. “if i don’t… we’ll all die.”

˚ ༘♡ the words tasted bitter, wrong. every fiber of your being screamed against the thought of stepping outside, of waiting to be executed in cold blood. but what choice did you have? standing there, all three of you frozen in fear, would only ensure everyone’s death.

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s face remained unreadable, his dark eyes blank as he stared at the man in the corner. then, with an abruptness that made your stomach drop, he moved.

˚ ༘♡ in a single fluid motion, young-il lunged at player 343. before you could process what was happening, his arm locked around the man’s neck in a crushing grip. player 343 thrashed, his limbs flailing wildly as he clawed at young-il’s arms, his face distorted in a mask of pure terror.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as you watched. the man’s struggles grew weaker, his movements slowing, until they stopped entirely. the sound of his neck snapping echoed through the small room, sharp and sickening.

˚ ༘♡ yet it wasn’t solely the act itself that made your stomach churn. it was young-il’s face. his expression was not cold or cruel, it was empty. hollow. there was no anger, no remorse, not even determination. merely a terrifying absence, as though he had flicked a switch and turned off everything human inside him.

˚ ༘♡ player 343’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. the timer hit zero. the strobing lights stopped, and the door unlatched with a hiss. outside, the metallic scraping of corpses being dragged away filled the air, accompanied by blaring gunshots.

˚ ༘♡ you turned away, bile rising in your throat. your body shaking as you pressed yourself against the wall, unable to shake the image of the man’s lifeless eyes, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

˚ ༘♡ “are you alright?” young-il’s voice was soft now, almost tender. you flinched at the sound, your mind unable to reconcile the concern in his tone with the monstrous act you had witnessed seconds prior.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to nod, though the movement felt feigned. “yes… yes, forgive me.” your voice was shaky, but you tried to steady it. “i’m not used to… to seeing things so shocking.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il studied you for a moment, his melancholic eyes searching your face. “i frightened you,” he said simply, his voice flat.

˚ ༘♡ “you did what you had to do,” you murmured. “it’s not your fault. this game… it’s twisted. it forces us to do the unthinkable.” you glanced toward the door, unable to stop yourself from shuddering at the sight of masked guards dragging bodies through the blood-soaked corridors, leaving thick, smeared trails of scarlet ichor. “let’s go back.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il nodded and stepped out first, his broad shoulders slumping under an invisible weight. you followed, your legs heavy as you cast one last glance at player 343’s stiff, unnaturally contorted body.

˚ ༘♡ “you must understand,” young-il said as the two of you walked towards the exit. his voice was low, as though he were speaking more to himself than to you. “i didn’t do it for me. it wasn’t sadism. it was because you deserve to go home. you’re a good girl, i want to see you leave this place unscathed so you may see your loved ones again and lead a normal life. there are some who are too far gone for saving.”

˚ ༘♡ his words pierced the air between you, as if they had a tangible weight, sinking deep into your chest. you drew in a shaky breath, the lump in your throat rising as you fought to find your voice. “mr. young-il,” you called softly, barely above a whisper.

˚ ༘♡ he halted mid-step, the faint scrape of his shoe against the smooth, polished ground breaking the silence. slowly, he turned, his dark eyes locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze, something that burned quietly, akin to embers buried in ash.

˚ ༘♡ “i never thanked you,” you managed, the tremor in your voice betraying the emotion you tried to suppress. “you saved my life. i owe you my existence.”

˚ ༘♡ a shadow of a smile flickered across his face, fleeting and hollow, like the ghost of a feeling long forgotten. it never reached his eyes. “you owe me nothing,” he said, his voice low and rough, each syllable weighed down with exhaustion and something heavier, something unspoken. without another word, he turned away, his movements deliberate and slow.

˚ ༘♡ you stood still for a moment, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. the sight of his retreating figure, sent a ripple of unease and gratitude coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to follow, each step dragging as if the weight pressing on your chest had seeped into your limbs. the silence between you was stifling, so heavy it seemed to press against your ears, drowning out everything else. you longed to speak, but the words caught somewhere deep inside, trapped and unwilling to surface. so you trailed behind him, your steps hesitant and uneven, as though tethered to him by an invisible thread.

a/n: my second squid game fanfiction! i am so thankful for all the support and kind messages i received on my first hwang in-ho imagine! please let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍

[fairy-angel222]

𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ft Gojo Satoru

— Six years. He’s loved you for six years. He was too young back then but now he’s not. And he plans on showing you that.

᧔♡᧓ Semi Yandere! Gojo x Fem! Reader

᧔♡᧓ Content: age gap (gojo’s 21 n reader is 27), obsessive behavior, smut, pussy eating, porn with some plot, cheating while in talking stage, petnames, praise, breeding, baby trapping, manipulation, gaslighting

᧔♡᧓ A/n: reader always saw gojo as a brother since he was so young, and never really developed feelings for him. it was just lust taking over when they fucked

Six years of friendship with your current best friend. Six years in which her little brother Gojo has had a crush on you. Six years of you only cooing with a giggle as you ruffled his fluffy white head of hair before calling his doting nature cute.

Six years.

Six years that he’s waited for you, becoming more of a man for you. Working out, gaining experience. It was all for you.

You’re twenty seven now, barely any different since the first time he met you. Your soft features still as beautiful as ever and your body just as perfect as he remembered. He’s studied you over the years. Every single time you came over. Studied your patterns, your every move, your likes, your dislikes, he’d even gotten to know your type.

He’d loved you since he was fifteen.

But he’s not a little kid anymore. He’s grown. Twenty one years old. Mature enough to be yours, to take care of you. He deserved you after waiting for so long. And he would show you. Show you that you needed him just as bad, craved him as much as he craved you. He’s the one for you, you just had to open your eyes and see that.

Gojo knows you feel at least a slight bit of attraction towards him. Hell, you’d called him handsome so many times— even though it had been strictly platonic— that you have to had felt something.. right?

On his eighteenth birthday you were there with him, his friends and his sister. He’d even brought a girl, introducing her as his girlfriend to try for a reaction out of you. But you didn’t bat an eye, you were genuinely happy for him. It made his jaw clench, but he was reminded of why he loved you. You were so sweet and caring. A big smile on your face as you embraced him in a hug, giving him the present that you’d been so excited to get. It was something that he had wanted for a while. A part of you saw him and his sister as the siblings you’d never had.

He didn’t need your gift, of course. He had enough money to buy anything he wanted. But it being from you made it special.. so so very special. Especially since you had listened to him. And it was his turn to return the favor. The random expensive gifts never stopped, every time you came over for the next three years it seemed that there was always something wrapped and waiting for you. Somethings just never change, you thought to yourself, piecing together that the boy’s crush had never left.

Then his gifts started getting more and more.. well, whatever you’d consider those matching lace sets that were accompanied a little note that made you swallow hard. Followed up by short dresses and eventually fancy shoes and purses to match. Not to mention the collection of jewelry you’d gotten from him.

Then he was.. less subtle, sending small smirks and winks your way. Finding any excuse just to be next to you or let his hands innocently wander during a hug.

You were not going to tell his sister. You didn’t want there to be any problems between them. You also couldn’t just start coming over less, she was like family to you. So you let his harmless crush continue.

…

Gojo swears luck was on his side, the universe wanting to make things easier for him. You had a boyfriend, a guy you worked with who was a good five years older than you. Like he said, you had a type, and he checked out none of these boxes. He knew everything about the dude, and he knew that he was not good enough for you. He tried to warn you, but what did you do? You smiled at what you took as him being worried about your well being.

So when you came knocking on his front door, flinging yourself into his sister’s arms as you cried into her shoulder. He knew. That asshole had broken your heart. He’d deal with it. He’d truly make the guy regret hurting you.

You were at his house all week, falling into the stage of the break up where you sat in your room (with their house so big you were bound to have one if your own) watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a string of adorable laughter. Anything to take your mind off the sting in your chest.

Then you were out. Everywhere. Going to clubs and parties with his sister just as you two did when you were a little younger. It was reckless, what if you got hurt? What is someone tried something? You were a sight for sore eyes after all. He would make sure to never let that happen. It was why he always accompanied you, whether you were aware of it or not. It was no surprise that you were never able to get laid, despite all the ogling eyes set on you.

…

Gojo leaned against the bathroom’s door frame as you emptied your stomach’s contents into the toilet in front of you. Small moans of displeasure filling the room as your body slumped against it. After math of a night full of drinking.

His arms were folded across his chest, muscles bulging through the tight black fabric which was paired with grey sweats which hung lowly on his hips. Gojo chuckled, pushing himself to stand straight before walking over to you. Stooping down to your current height with the shake of his head. “You should know better than this baby.”

Your brows furrowed, opening your mouth to question him before your head was over the bowl once more. Tears welling in your eyes at the massive headache that had sprung to life. “Shh shh shh baby.” He whispered, “let it all out, you’ll feel better soon.” He soothed, pushing stray strands away from your sweaty forehead while stroking softly at your hair. Whispering little words of encouragement as he held you, smiling sadly when the hug caused you to break down in his arms. No doubt reminding you of your recent breakup.

“Here, i brought you some panadol.” He reached for the two pills and the cup of water on the counter. Letting you sit with your back against his chest as he guided them up to your mouth, bringing the cup to your lips right after. “Here, drink it all okay?” You nodded, swallowing down the water along with the pain relievers. Gojo’s lips pressing softly to your head as he continued to stroke your skin.

You’d fallen asleep. And he’d laid you down on his bed instead of yours. Tucking you in and leaving you to rest.

Downstairs he found his sister, an empty cup sat in front of her along with the pill bottle. She’d clearly been hungover too. “Where is she?”

Gojo gave her a knowing look. “She’s sleeping.”

“Where?”

“My room.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing, not liking the way she was watching him. Was she really that selfish over her best friend.

“Satoru.. she’s twenty seven. You need to get over this stupid little crush of yours and go find someone your own age. She doesn’t want you, she never will.”

Gojo seethed, fists already at his side as he stared angrily at his sister. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Satoru come on-“

“No.” His voice was firm, he didn’t look angry anymore, he looked hurt. “Just.. shut up, please.” A part of him knew that maybe he’d just never be enough for you.

…

Making his way back upstairs Gojo had a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs along with a glass of hot tea. He walked into his room to find your eyes only just fluttering open with the small stretch of your body. Blinking your eyes to adjust to the bright light while taking in your surroundings, realizing immediately where you were, and who was standing at the door.

“Oh.. Satoru, hi.” Your voice was timid, embarrassed to have been seen in your drunken state by the boy.

“Hey, how’s your head? I brought you breakfast.” He set the food down near the bed before taking a seat next to you. Allowing his fingers to play with the fallen hair from your bun.

“T-thanks.” You nodded, shifting to sit up before grabbing a strip of the crispy meat.

He wouldn’t stop staring at you, couldn’t stop staring at you. And you smiled in his direction, “thanks a lot, i should really get back to my room though.”

He shrugged, “or you could just stay, it’s not like we’re doing anything.” He grinned. “Yet.”

You couldn’t help the way your cheeks heated up at that statement. “It’s okay, i think i’ll just-“

“Stay. Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll even put on your favorite.” Reaching for the remote to search for your favorite show. You bit your lip nervously, not understanding how he could act so normal after all the inappropriate gifts and advances.

His smile never faltered as his hand ‘accidentally’ found yours, slipping his fingers into your own. Not allowing you to let go even if you tried.

…

The next few days were.. good. Gojo had assumed that everything was going well. They were going well, until you decided to ruin everything.

Toji Fushiguro.

A forty something year old man with two children. That’s who you were talking to. Gojo didn’t appreciate how hard you making things for him. You were supposed to be his and he was supposed to be yours.

He was tired of waiting for you to come to him, so he went to you. Knocking on your door with vigor and a small scowl. When the door swung open you were mid-laugh, Toji coming into view behind you with a glass of champagne in hand.

“Seriously? You’ve been ignoring us for him? Him?” Gojo accused pointedly, “My sister misses you, she’s been crying. A lot. Says you’re choosing a guy over your friendship.”

His jaw was hard as he fed you lies through his teeth. Watching your eyes widen as you pondered. Were you ignoring your best friend? You’d seen her just earlier today. You guys had hung out, gone for lunch. Talked about who you both liked with big smiles and non stop giggles. It didn’t feel like anything had changed. “I.. I didn’t realize- i’m sorry.” You didn’t know what to say, it made zero sense. But why would he lie?

Gojo silently cheered as you sadly asked Toji to leave. Giving him a small kiss on the cheek and promising to call him tomorrow. He was not very happy about the last part, but at least he was alone with you.

As soon as he left Gojo marched into your apartment. Nearly falling over his two feet when the scent hit him. Your scent, stronger than ever, that sweet strawberry smell that he’d grown to love.

“Satoru, i didn’t-”

He couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. “It’s okay I forgive you.” Turning around for his hand to snake to the back of your neck, heart rate speeding up as he crashed his lips onto yours.

You whimpered in surprise, Gojo controlling the kiss as he backed you up against a wall. His lips quickly traveling down to your neck in desperation. “You know, i’ve waited so long. So fucking long. Waited for you. For us. I’ve given you everything, i’ve done everything. But it’s just never enough is it? You’re just too ungrateful huh baby?”

You moaned loudly. “Satoru.. what are you.. hmm.”

“I’m taking what’s mine baby. Taking what i deserve. I’m not a little boy anymore. I’m a man. I can take care of you.” His lips moved with force, sucking harshly at your skin as he kissed down your chest, free hand roaming to your ass with a squeeze. “I’m old enough to be yours. This isn’t just some crush anymore. I fucking love you.”

You could feel your heart pounding as he uttered the words you wished he hadn’t. “Satoru we can’t.. your sister’s my best friend. I’m still older than you.”

“She’ll get over it.” He breathed, making quick work of your tank top that clung deliciously to your tits. “We’re both consenting adults now aren’t we. If you tell me to stop, i’ll stop.”

Your mouth went dry, lips parting to demand him to go but you couldn’t. You didn’t want him too. What was wrong with you?

“So what will it be baby? Stop? Or don’t stop?”

“Don’t stop..” You mumbled in shame, avoiding his eyes as you looked away. Gojo’s fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to turn back to face him.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, don’t stop.” You said a little louder, cheeks burning up under his touch.

“Good girl. I knew you were playing hard to get.” He grinned, “You love the chase as much as i do.”

Gojo’s arms hooked under your thighs, lifting you onto him before reattaching your lips. Carrying you to your bedroom to drop you onto the sheets. Lips never leaving yours as you both hurriedly undressed. He was addicted to you, and having you set fire to his veins. This was all he’d ever wanted.

Gojo dropped to his knees before you, kissing lightly at your pussy before enclosing it with his mouth. Tongue lapping you up hungrily as you moaned, fingers finding his hair with a tremble.

“Satoru— feels so good, haah.” You breathed, Gojo burying his face between your legs with a tight grip on your thighs. Allowing your legs to wrap around his neck as he devoured your sopping heat. You were so sweet— just like everything else about you. And he couldn’t help but rut against nothing as more blood rushed to his cock. Finding pleasure in getting to taste you after years of jerking off to the image.

He’s seen your room more than you, always snatching a pair of anything he could find. Just to be able to hold you in any way or form. Feel you on his skin. Touch something that had already touched you.

Gojo pulled away with his face glistening, “Learned how to do this just for you baby. Wanted to be good for our first time.” He smiled lazily, eyes dark with need as he got back to work, sending muffled groans into your bundle of nerves while you mewled loudly. Back arching with the curl of your toes before trying to pull away.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Gojo growled lowly, fingers digging painlessly into your flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, tongue flicking at your clit before his lips closed around it. Sucking and swirling the sensitive bud into his mouth with a satisfied hum. All while you cried out above him, moans getting louder each time you called out his name.

It was like music. The sweetest song ever. Hearing you moan for him, moan out of pleasure, need, lust. Knowing that it was him making you feel so good. He almost came right there, determined to give you the best orgasm of your life with just his tongue. You tugged at his strands, your vision blurred in the nearing of your high.

“Satoru— o-oh fuck Satoru, ‘m gonna cum. Nngh, you’re gonna make me cum.” You moaned noisily, lewd slurps and sloppily kisses filling your ears as he made out with your wet pussy.

Gojo loved how much you were squirming, your legs tightening around his neck as you screamed. You actually screamed. He made you scream. His tongue was awaiting when you began to shake, toes curled and eyes rolled back as you squirted nonstop. The clear liquid gushing onto his face and tongue in long streams.

You whined at the overstimulation when he licked a stripe up your pussy. Collecting every last bit of your sweetness before standing up. You were panting, hard. And Gojo felt accomplished as he smirked. “Has any older man ever made you cum this hard baby?”

Your head was dizzy, trying to bring yourself back down to earth as you blinked up at him with the shake of your head.

He scoffed in pride, “Now try telling me that i’m too young for you now.”

Gojo was quick to lay you flat on the bed and crawl in on top of you. Consequences of your latest activities still fresh on his chin and chest. There were so many positions he wanted to take you in, but first he wanted to see you fall apart under him. See your face contort into one of pure bliss when he started pounding into you.

“You ready for me?” He husked, impressive cock already swiping up and down your slick filled folds. You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes with parted lips. “Ready.”

You both shared a drawn out moan when he nestled his cock past your tight entrance. Feeling him graze your gummy walls before reaching deep within you.

You felt so good, so tight.. warm. And he felt so deep, so big.. perfect.

“This pussy was made for me.” He grunted with a loud groan, slowly speeding up his pace till he was fucking into you with no end. Hips snapping into yours as his cock kissed your spot, prodding at your cervix with every hard thrust. “Fuck- look at how well you’re taking me. Fucking swallowing me all the way in.”

You only moaned in response, teary eyes meeting his sinful ones as he molded you around his cock. Making sure that you knew nothing but the shape of him, the feel of him, when you were done.

Letting out the whiniest cry, your arms reached up around his shoulders, clawing at his skin when you felt your stomach tighten.

You could feel him so deep, the roll of his hips allowing his fat tip to curl up and kiss exactly where you needed it most. The fast pace pulling short screams past your swollen lips.

“Satoru— haah, you’re so deep. I love it s’ much Toru. So m-much— ahh.” You couldn’t think straight, your brain only registering the way he was sliding in and out of you. It was all you could think about in that moment l, the way he felt.

Gojo watched you fall apart, just like he wanted. Your glossy eyes closing as your head fell further into the pillow, unable to control your noises as you got closer and closer.

“You don’t know how hot you look right now. I love seeing you like this. All for me.” His voice cracked, cock twitching in an aching cry to get its release.

“S-satoru, ‘m so close. Gonna cum again.” You choked out, nails piercing into his broad back as your hands roamed down.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess f’ me again hmm? All that denying me, making me feel like our love was one sided. You put me through a lot you know.” He shook his head. “If only you knew the lengths i’d go for you.”

His eyes were crazed, and a shiver raked through your body at his words, whimpering as you succumbed to the building pleasure with a mewl. “O-oh fuckk.”

“Nuh uh, baby. Apologize to me first then you cum.” His tone was firm, serious. He wanted to hear you say it.

“Ahh, ‘m sorry Satoru— ‘m so so sorry. You’re goid enough f’ me. Mature enough. You’re perfect. Please let me cum. I need to cum.” You cried, the man on top of you pretending to ponder your words which went straight to his cock before smiling darkly. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.”

Your body shook as you yelled out his name, your surroundings becoming blank when you began to squirt messily, again. The intense orgasm seeming to stun all of your body’s systems as you failed to come back down. Gojo’s continued thrusts keeping pleasure flowing through your sensitive body.

“I love you so much baby. I always did. It makes me so happy that we can finally be together. Fuckk— ‘m all yours. All yours.” He buried his face in your neck, his own eyes closing shut as his body trembled, stilling inside your warmth before you felt his cum pumping into you in spurts. The thick substance coating your every wall in white.

“And now you’re mine.” He didn’t pull out, staying buried inside you in hopes of you two being connected forever. There was one thing he knew and you forgot. You hadn’t taken your birth control in a while, and a part of him hoped that you had seen this coming. That you wanted it. But one thing remained true either way, he was never letting you go.

[beemovieerotica]

No wonder “gender identity,” understood by well-meaning LGBTQ+ advocates as an abstract feeling, has done such a poor job of justifying sex change. If biological sex is part of a material structure of value, then society has a concrete interest in any potential gains or losses that may result, feelings be damned.

Gill-Peterson tells the story of Robert Stonestreet, a 10-year-old boy who was brought to the Johns Hopkins Hospital for a rare urethral defect in 1915. When the doctors informed his father that the boy had ovaries and should be reassigned as a girl, the man refused, explaining that he already had six girls at home and his son was a great help around the family farm. Of course, Stonestreet was prepubescent. Whatever biological advantage he had over his sisters was the natural spoils of working daily on a farm. The point is that his father’s social validation of his gender was the basically incidental result of an economic calculation about his sex. Twenty-one years later, Stonestreet asked the same doctors to certify him as male so he could wed his fiancée. They refused — one suspects because a marriage with no reproductive potential struck them as dead in the water, especially with the national birth rate at an all-time low. Three days later, Stonestreet committed suicide — the victim of a society that could not make up its mind on how best to make sense of his gender while also extracting value from his sex.

This is the larger historical reason why the anti-trans movement does not want transgender people to receive sex-altering care. It is not clear how, if at all, such people will fit into the division of sex in America.

-Andrea Long Chu

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[karinasbaby]

park sunghoon — THE PUSSY EATING COMPETITION!

P. munch!sunghoon x fem!reader (17+) | W. pussy eating (obv), squirting, oral, unprotected sex, cursing, multiple orgasms, munches jakehoon + munchwon , freakseung, subspace, biting, other shit i forgot | WC. 5.7k !! | A,N. this one’s for my babychels ! @ak4e7a ♡ … would anyone like a drabble about heeseung’s experience?

in which… jake convinces sunghoon to join a pussy eating competition with a bet !

“you want me to join the what?” sunghoon questioned, his thick eyebrows furrowed, plump lips parted in confusion.

“the pussy eating competition, bro!” jake rolled his eyes as he repeated his sentence for the third time already. reaching over to flick a concerned looking sunghoon’s forehead.

“and why the fuck would i join whatever the fuck that is?” he smacked jake’s hand away when the stinging pain rushed in his head. cursing jake more under his breath. “why the fuck not?” he huffed, “heeseung was at it yesterday, he won his stupid bet with jay.”

“they had a bet?” sunghoon closed his laptop, deciding that whatever notes he was about to take from their lecture can wait until he figures out if jake is being serious or not. “yeah, dude. jay bet heeseung fifty bucks if he could make his girl squirt three times in ten minutes.” jake chuckled at the memory.

“and heeseung won?” sunghoon questioned, eyebrows raised in anticipation this time as jake’s smile only widened. “won the bet in eight minutes and twenty six seconds.” he laughed, sunghoon wasn’t surprised or shocked in any way. he was surprised at jay’s idiocy of choosing ‘ten minutes’ when all heeseung has been doing since he got laid was boast about his squirting ability in their group chat.

and heeseung called himself ‘the pussy squirting fairy’ way too often for their liking.

and besides who even came up with this stupid competition in the first place? who even agreed to any of this? why did heeseung and jay join? and why the fuck was jake asking him to join too?

“listen bro it’s nothing serious— you go to the pussy eating competition center and ask to join in for a competition with someone— in that case that will be me, and then we’ll get to eat some fire pussy out for free so it’s really just a huge win situation.” jake rambled, balancing between his two feet as he continued to convince sunghoon to join in with him.

“we could even place a bet like hyung and jay did! ten minutes for three squirts is a good deal you know? it’s just that heeseung is a fucking frea—“ jake’s voice slowly got tuned out of sunghoon’s ear as he thought about this more.

considering all the possibilities of this competition that still sounded pretty unreal to him, was this a stupid idea? yes. should he trust jake? no. did he not believe this idea because it sounded like a dream? yes. was the last time that sunghoon got offered pussy around three months ago? unfortunately, yes. did he currently feel like a loser teenage boy with his pants tightening at the thought of eating pussy? … also yes.

but was this an opportunity for him to live up to his ‘certified munch hoon’ title though? yes. and was sunghoon going to take it? fuck yes.

“you could also tap out at any minute—“ “where can i apply?” sunghoon interrupted jake’s irritating speech. “it’s not tha— huh?” his eyes widened in surprised, “you want to join?” he tilted his head to the side in a puppy like manner, a twinkle of excitement in his gaze. “you said you were going to join too, right?” sunghoon eyed him warily, a wave of relief washing down on him when jake nodded with enthusiasm.

“you also said we could place bets, yeah?” he questioned, “yes! like the ten minutes for three squirts hyung mad—“ “make it five.” jake gaped at him, blinking his eyes in surprise. “what?”

his hand came up to rest on sunghoon’s shoulder as he tried to process his words, “five minutes?” his gaze became conflicted as the younger nodded, “five minutes for three?” jake tried to understand him more, really trying his best.

“five minutes for five squirts.” jake gulped.

“for a hundered bucks.”

well fuck.

sunghoon was on a mission.

wearing a white, sleeveless shirt along with jeans to make his movements easier, the shirt given to him by jake in order to ‘tell apart who got the more squirts’ according to the wetness that coated the white fabric.

he was now standing in line with jake, the shorter one walking with a slight bounce in his step from his excitement. “are you ready?” he whispered, eyes travelling all over the place where the competition was held.

countless other contestants from both genders aligned in the waiting line, each pair waiting their own turn, some going neck to neck with other friends and placing bets while others threw snarky glances at each other.

truly a competition for some.

“do we atleast get to pick who we get to eat out?” the taller sighed, his ebony locks sticking further to his temples due to his sweat, it was either unreasonably hot or sunghoon was weirdly nervous.

probably unreasonably hot. it was mid july after all.

“i don’t think so.. i didn’t ask hyung—“ “obviously no.” a foreign voice cut off jake, making the two turn around to greet another guy. that was also wearing a white shirt.

“it’s a competition. you don’t get to choose who you get to eat out.” he rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing. god what an obnoxious attitude.

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “pipe the fuck down, jungwon. we get it you practically live here.” jake snapped back. running his fingers through his hair while he turned around. he looked unusually restless for sunghoon’s liking.

i mean, there was a whole hundred dollar bill on the table for this bet.

“park sunghoon and sim jaeyun! you’re up next.” the same guy who jotted down their names in his board, who sunghoon assumed was the manager— called both of their names up to the front.

where sunghoon wasn’t prepared to have his breath knocked out of his lungs so quickly.

as he and jake stepped up the smal staircase leading to the mini stage where two chairs were situated, there sat two girls. very very pretty girls. dreamlike pretty girls. one hundred percent sunghoon’s type. really really pretty gir—

“stop fucking staring like a creep.” jake elbowed him when he realised that sunghoon was basically two seconds away from drooling at the sight of you. sunghoon covered his awkward staring with a strained cough. lowering his head and unknowingly bringing attention to his reddening ears.

which at the sight of, you chuckled.

and sunghoon’s knees almost buckled.

“take your respective positions and be prepared.” the manager, who sunghoon caught a brief glance at the name tag of— mark. ordered them around. sunghoon stepped closer towards you. who stared at him with the most alluring glint in your eyes. you were wearing a pink top with pink lace panties that were covered by a feather light towel. don’t ask how he noticed them.

“hi.. i’m sunghoon.” he spoke awkwardly, extending out his hand towards yours. finding his demeanour adorable, you quickly shook his hand. a smile gracing your features as you introduced yourself to him.

three months shouldn’t be that much time since he got with a girl but it felt like it was centuries ago. especially with the way his heart began to thump thump thump! between his ribs weirdly.

he spared a swift glance to jake, just in time to catch him throwing a flirtatious wink towards his own girl. goodness that dude was a freak himself.

“spare the introductions and get into your positions, what was your bet again?” mark quickly muttered, glancing at the paper in his hand and back at jake and sunghoon. pushing his glasses above the bridge of his nose.

“a hundred bucks.” jake spoke, puffing out his chest in anxiety, “and that’s for ten minutes right? three orgasms in ten?” mark nodded as he wrote down the timing on his paper.

“no actually… it’s five minutes.” jake bit his lips, sunghoon shook his head in slight disbelief and embarrassment at the current situation they were in right now. totally ignoring the fact that there were two drop dead gorgeous girls whispering and giggling right behind them both.

“five minutes for three?” mark questioned, his eyebrows raising in surprise that increased when sunghoon quickly shook his head in denial, “five minutes for five.” mark blinked.

a slight echoing line of ooo’s made their way into jake and sunghoon’s reddened ears, embarrassment crawling up their backs as mark awkwardly cleared his throat and nodded to their words. quickly changing the numbers on the timer and scribbling a few other random sentences on his board.

“we’ll shortly start the timer and the competition will begin.” he stepped back allowing the two to inch back towards the girls, jake spared a quick glance at mark who was now holding onto the alarm clock between his fingers before lowering down to his knees in front of the chair.

sunghoon swiftly followed suit, dropping onto his knees and lifting his head right between your legs to welcome the heavenly view. gosh you looked divine.

“five for five, hm?” you cheekily smiled at him, a sight that made the boy’s heart throb with the sudden need to always make you smile. he nodded shyly, his slightly wavy locks ruffling in his hair in a fluffy manner at the motion. “better not disappoint.” you then discarded the towel to the ground.

“oh i for sure won’t.” sunghoon smirked, a wave of confidence descending on him at the sight of your soaked cunt so close to his face, he could practically taste your leaking essence from the side of your panties.

“on your marks..” the young manager called out, sunghoon skilfully pulled apart your plush thighs, placing your legs on top of his shoulders as jake did the same besides him. you quickly laid back towards the table behind you on your elbows, giving sunghoon full access to anything and everything.

“get set..” mark called out, eyes glued on the button that will start the timer while sunghoon pushed the tip of his nose against your slit, the contact making you hum in delight as his tip pressed against your throbbing clit while your essence soaked through the thin fabric and onto his skin.

he poked his tongue out just slightly, brushing against your sopping hole restricted by the lace fabric that began to slightly irritate him, and sunghoon was gone.

pineapples. cotton candy. cranberries. straight sugar. you tasted otherworldly. it was not surprising that you would taste delicious as you probably do take care of yourself to the best of your ability because of this competition, but for you to taste this dizzying? to have an essence and nectar that melted against his tastebuds like honey?

sunghoon was gone.

“go!” and just like that, sunghoon’s brain was replaced by a horny puddle of mush inside of his skull. unaware of the fact that he pushed and teared your panties to the side, aiming to lick a long, tantalising stripe starting from your hole till he reached your clit where he applied pressure.

the action made your hand shoot towards his head, gripping a handful of his soft hair in your hands as his tongue circled and pushed against your sensitive nub, his large fingers pried your thighs apart when they began to push against him. normally, sunghoon wouldn’t mind getting suffocated by plush and soft thighs like this. yet today, he couldn’t lose a hundered dollar bill against jake. out of all people.

and fucking jake was going at it next to him. making all sorts of wet noises that had his girl throwing her head back in pleasure. while the timer struck twenty five seconds.

fuck, he only had thirty five seconds left for the first minute.

that’s when sunghoon decided to let go of all of his restraints, allowing all the walls he kept to crumble right apart when he pushed your legs around his head, one hand holding your leg to keep your pressed against him as you needed the extra support while the other pushed his middle and ring finger deep inside of you.

a squeal left your mouth when sunghoon attached his plump lips around your clit. sucking and slurping so loudly, obscene noises followed by your moans and the ticking of the timer barely made their way past sunghoon’s ringing ears. he was completely out of it.

he thrusted his finger in and out. quickly in and out. too busy closing his eyes to savour your flavour on his tongue to take notice of the multiple webs of wetness that connected his knuckles and your entrance. his fingers reached so deep, they were so long and the perfect size to cause the most delicious burn in your walls as he stretched them open.

right when the timer hit forty seconds, sunghoon’s fingertip brushed against your sweet spot.

you mewled his name, back arching off of the table as he hummed in delight at the realisation, “found it, didn’t i? it’s right. here.” he accentuated every word with another thrust against the spot that had you seeing stars. you nodded mindlessly as the knot in your abdomen curled on itself the longer sunghoon abused your cunt.

“f-fuck yes! right there, baby. right there.” you encouraged him, moans increasing in volume the harsher sunghoon sucked around your clit, his fingers became even more restless after the sudden petname. baby. that’s right, he was your baby. the only one that will please you from now on.

“yeah, pretty girl? feels good doesn’t it?” sunghoon spoke against your clit, each word sending a vibration right against your spine as pleasure raked through your body in rough waves. it suddenly felt like you were the only two in the world. your surroundings melting in an instant as you gasped his name and praised him for making you feel so good. so ecstatic.

fifty seconds in, and that’s when the coil in your abdomen suddenly snapped.

your climax washed over you out of nowhere, such an intense and speedy build up that you weren’t even able to process anything till you started to shake under sunghoon’s hold. your wetness was dripping down his forearm as he fucked you through your orgasm, each thrust of his finger made your squirt land over his shirt.

first sixty seconds was a complete and easy success.

“first minute is done! one point for sunghoon, and one point for jaeyun.” mark called out. shit, so that fucker also managed to keep up with him then?

he still had four minutes to redeem himself. with the way he was able to easily make you squirt from the first fifty seconds he felt like he knew your body inside out. knew exactly which buttons to push and what nerve to pull to coax out another orgasm out of you. there was no way he was losing.

“minute two starting now!” mark’s voice reached sunghoon’s ears in a muffled manner as he pressed your twitching legs closer to his shoulders, this time sunghoon pushed his long tongue inside of your gushing hole. a lustful glint in his eyes as he reached his slender fingers towards your clit.

rubbing slow, torturous but powerful circles on your aching nub while he licked all over your walls, slurping against your wetness that leaked down his chin and made its way down his neck, fuck he was so addicted to your flavour.

your moans became weaker as your body tried to calm down from your previous orgasm, such a mind blowing climax washing down on your body so suddenly made your head spin. and sunghoon was already overstimulating you as he worked towards another orgasm. fuck. you, yourself were done for under him.

he felt so good. so skilled as he satisfied and pleasured you in ways you’ve never felt before. his strong, muscular arms keeping your legs open as he buried his face so mindlessly between them, diving into your wetness with no other care in the world as if he was born to do this.

he lived to devour pussy. truly suitable for a competition like this.

“gonna give me another one hm?” twenty nine seconds.

“think you can handle another one, babydoll?” he taunted, barely pulling out his tongue to speak before burying it back inside of you, his fingers never halting to a stop as they began to pinch and pull at your clit. the familiar tightening in your lower stomach made your mind reel while your silence began to frustrate sunghoon.

that’s when he landed a harsh slap against your clit. the sudden pain and pleasure making you jolt under his hold as you nearly screamed out his name. “y-yes, yes i can! please, i’ll give you as many as you want!” you cried out, your broken begs rushing directly into his aching cock in the confines of his jeans. exactly what he needed to hear.

“what a good fucking girl, hm? such a good girl for me, aren’t ya?” he mocked, hand resorting back to circling on your clit as he buried himself in your folds, his nose brushed up against his fingers while he thrusted his tongue in and out of you stimulating you in the best ways possible.

thirty seven seconds was all it took for sunghoon to make you squirt on him for the second time. in the span of a minute and a half.

he slapped against your leaking hole while you convulsed beneath him, each slap getting his shirt wetter which signalled mark to announce “minute two half way done, two points for sunghoon and one for jaeyun!”

jake’s noise of surprised went unnoticed by sunghoon, almost half way in. he thought to himself as he lifted your limp legs off of his shoulders and balanced himself on his knees again.

he pressed your legs together, making your swollen, glistening folds puff up one each other while your nectar slipped out of your hole in heavy, clear droplets. sunghoon wanted to do nothing more than to slurp it all up.

without wasting anymore time, he pushed his mouth against your cunt, kissing up against your folds as the timer showcased fifty seconds, as cocky as this might sound but he already knew he won. especially when he inhaled your scent deeply and pushed his nose and mouth onto your entrance again. successful in making you scream his name this time.

he held your shaking legs up with one hand, grip strong and tight as he relished in your flavour running down his throat. so addicted as he ate you out like a drunk man. completely high on your pussy. he sucked and licked and kissed everywhere so noisily.

sucking up your swollen and sensitive folds into his mouth, coating every inch of your skin in his saliva that combined with your own wetness before returning to slurp around your clit. his mind was reeling. becoming a mushy piece of muscle in his head as the only thought that drove him to continue was to make you squirt again.

“minute three starting now, with two points to sunghoon and two points to jaeyun. yet another tie!” fuck, jake was catching up.

but sunghoon for some reason was starting to not mind.. call it the euphoria of getting high off of pussy or anything else. he no longer wanted to do this to beat jake and win a hundred dollars. he wanted to do this because it felt good. you felt good.

and just like that, he began to indulge himself in your cunt entirely. surrendering and making his rational side disappear as he hummed and moaned at your taste. shaking his head from side to side as he slurped you up so well. drooling your essence further down his chin as he pleasured you because it was his own pleasure.

each moan of his sent shocks around you body. your surroundings blurring as the air around you became electrified. goosebumps aligning your skin when you felt another climax building up gradually in your abdomen. the longer he spent humming around your clit and buzzing up your whole body the further you felt your consciousness slipping away from your fingertips.

guess you couldn’t really handle it after all.

it was at three minutes and fifteen seconds when sunghoon made you squirt for the third time.

your hands shot to grip onto the chair that was by now shaking with your body, hot white ecstasy blinding your vision as your climax washed down on your body in violent waves one after the other. and sunghoon just kept going. noisily slurping up everything you offered. he was being so embarrassingly loud as he kept rubbing his face into your cunt, getting your wetness all over his face and jaw. overstimulating you more with each passing second while your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“three minutes and twenty seconds in! three points for sunghoon and two for jake!” mark announced, his voice becoming unusually strained as the sight of the two men on their knees doing their best to pleasure their girls was starting to get to him.

it was his least favourite part of his job when he started to feel a tightening in his pants.

“so good for me, doll. we only need two more, come on. you can give it to me right?” you nodded with your head spinning. a dizzying sense of pleasure raking through your veins. sunghoon settled down for gentle bites across your thighs, giving you a few moments to cool down as he looked up.

big mistake.

the sight of you had one of his hands shooting down towards his raging boner that began uncontrollably twitching between his boxers. your pretty pink tank top ridden up revealing the underside of the plush skin of your breasts, a sheen layer of sweat coating your body as you breathed in deeply to calm your heart down when it felt like it was seconds away from bursting.

your fucked out expression is what did it for him. eyes hazed and high off pleasure. drunk on the feeling of his plump lips on your swollen cunt that tightened around nothing. sunghoon was so fucked.

“so needy for me isn’t she..?” he whispered only for you to hear, fascinated in the way your gaping hole winked at him. spilling out more of your sweet nectar that became sunghoon’s favourite drug in the matter of a few minutes. you grew flustered at his words, lifting your arm up t cover your eyes while sunghoon blew on your pussy teasingly.

discarding the competition and the fact that there were people around him, sunghoon quickly lifted himself up, leaning his body forward above yours as he began to hover on top of you. your breath hitched at the close proximity while sunghoon smiled adorably, showcasing you his pretty fangs that were sinking down your thighs just a few seconds ago.

“ready to give me another one, little girl?” he whispered. so so close to your face that his wet lips that were covered in your essence brushed against yours with every word. you nodded shyly, slowly getting fucked into subspace as your mind began to shut down. eyes blinking slowly while sunghoon pushed his long fingers back inside of you. gosh you were so cute.

three minutes and thirty two seconds in, and you were gripping onto sunghoon’s bicep that pushed his fingers inside of you deeper.

you were mewling and whimpering his name so prettily. so perfect and delicate under him. under his control allowing him to do anything with your body and it was driving him crazy. he couldn’t hold himself back when he finally pushed his lips against yours.

you moaned so endearingly under him. kissing him back so eagerly as his fingertip massaged your sweet spot making you bite gently on his lower lip. he groaned into your mouth as he fucked his fingers quicker. hitting all your spots with each thrust and making you see stars while he sucked on the tip of your tongue.

he didn’t care that he could be breaking rules right now. did not give a singular flying fuck that mark could be looking around confused wondering if this was accepted. and certainly did not even mind when jake scored his third point. all he wanted and needed right now was for you to cum for him as many times as possible. he needed to feel you tightening as your euphoria made you fall apart in his hold. it was a pleasure that he got addicted to.

“you close baby? feeling good hm?” he didn’t even need you to respond to him. not when your cunt was doing all the talking by clenching and drooling down his wrist. sucking in three of his fingers in so deeply he could only imagine how incredible you would feel around his cock, but in reality he shouldn’t imagine that right now. not when his dick was about to practically rip apart his boxers.

“s’close hoon.. so so close!” you blabbered, brain completely shutting down as you couldn’t tell apart your orgasm and overstimulation anymore. all you could feel and process was the unbelievable amount of pure ecstatic pleasure rushing throughout your whole body so wonderfully that it had you digging your nails into his back. your legs going numb under you as your knot tightened and tightened for the fourth time. almost done.

“come on, babydoll. cum for me like the good girl that you are.” he whispered against your neck and that was enough for you to squirt around his fingers again. he kept fucking into you, riding out your orgasm as your throat was no longer able to produce any noises, only soft whispers of pleads reaching sunghoon’s ear as he scored his fourth point easily.

he kissed along your jawline when he stilled his fingers inside of you, “please what, pretty girl?” he asked, already having a fleeting wild thought in his head that he discarded because he might actually lose his sanit— “i need your cock please. please for the last one, please fuck me.” holy fuck.

“three minutes and fifty six seconds in! four points for sunghoon and three for jaey— why are you taking your pants o?—“ mark’s voice became unreasonably loud towards the end but sunghoon was on a mission.

five squirts is five squirts. a hundred dollar bill is a hundred dollar bill. he’s not about to lose any of this because he didn’t push his cock into a pretty little hole like yours. no he was about to make his win a double win.

sunghoon pushed down both his jeans and boxers down in one go, his leaking cock springing out the tight pieces of fabric with multiple lines of precum dribbling down to his balls, thick mushroom tip that’s a fiery red throbbing in need and desire while your swollen hole gaped at him.

yeah he was gonna lose if he didn’t fuck you for sure.

“you ready, doll?” he asked as if he hadn’t spent the past few minutes stretching you out so nicely. you nodded so eagerly at his words. mouth watering at the sight of his veiny, thick cock pulsating so deliciously in front of you. he was so big. such a perfect size for stretching you out more.

he pushed the head of his cock in and god was he huge. you gasped around his lips when he gave you a few seconds to adjust before pushing his entire length in, bottoming out quicker than anticipated, but sunghoon didn’t care.

he couldn’t care less about the fact that he was fucking you in front of random people right now. why should he care when he knew he was going to bring you home by the end of the day and slither his way into your life after this? in fact, people should be glad because this will be the last time you’ll be seen here.

because he’s planning on having you in strawberry pink lingeries between his silky satin sheets for the rest of his life.

so technically, everyone should be glad they’re getting a show of you both right now. because it’ll be the last one.

“so deep hoon.. so fuckin’ deep..” you mewled, eyes shutting in pleasure when he slightly pulled out, barely by an inch before he thrusted back in. he felt the way your warm walls pulsed around his cock needily. sucking him back in with each movement as if they were not allowing him to pull out at all. so needy and so desperate to have something, anything to plug up your slutty hole.

“feeling good, pretty girl?” he asked, lowering his hand to press on the evident bulge that appeared on your lower stomach. the feeling made the two of you groan in pleasure, sunghoon was fleeting through cloud nine. he couldn’t believe how he went on with his life for so many years without spending each passing inside your cunt. so many time wasted when he could’ve been drunk on the heaven between your legs.

“s’good! so good, hoon.” gasping out the new petname that had his eyes rolling back, he glanced at the timer that was held by a flustered mark, palming his raging boner through his pants and noticed “four minutes and twenty nine seconds.” yeah the game was his. he won.

he switched his position, balancing himself back on his legs as he gripped your thighs, wrapping them around his waist while he sunk his cock in deeper. relishing in the sight of you throwing your head back when he penetrated you so good. the tip of his dick kissing against your cervix harshly. and just like that, he began to pound inside of you.

your unrestrained moans tumbled past your lips at his harsh thrusts. body being lit ablaze with mind numbing pleasure that enlivened every part of you. a different, never felt before kind of thrill rushed through your being. a fervent sensation that you’ve never experienced, one only brought to you by sunghoon as he continued to fuck you. determined on making you crumble completely around his cock.

and his wish was about to be granted with the way your abdomen began to tighten. exhaustion creeping up on you along with an almost scary build up of your climax. you were about to get knocked out with this one and you felt it.

“come on, angel. give me another one. the final one, i know you can do it, doll.” he encouraged, pressing his hand on his bulge that disappeared and appeared with every one of his thrusts, his large hand applying the perfect amount of pressure to have your head spin again. seconds away from cumming on his cock for the first time. his tip pressed and massaged all of your spots perfectly. “it’s right here, isn’t it? this is where you’re weak for me.” he chuckled.

you were slowly losing consciousness at this rate, body burning with euphoria that flashed through your limbs. “f-fuck i’m s’close! hoon— fuck!” you screamed his name as you felt your pleasure crashing down on you for the fifth time. walls tightening and clenching mercilessly making sunghoon hiss in pain while you squirted all over his abdomen.

the pressure from your orgasm made it hard for him to thrust back, but he continued. “and five points for sunghoon! at four minutes and fifty one seconds! park sunghoon is the winner of the pussy eating competition!” a new voice cheered from behind him, one that belonged to a taller manager that appeared since mark had to leave for a quick and ‘urgent’ bathroom break, making his best friend, johnny announce the winner.

but did the winner in question care right now? not really.

ignoring jake’s protests of disappointment and the sounds of his girl comforting him and finding him being upset adorable, also ignoring jake’s yells of shock and disbelief when he looked over and realised that sunghoon was currently balls deep inside of his girl. “i didn’t know you could literally fuck?!” he practically screamed at johnny as his girl tried to hold him back from jumping the taller guy.

yet all of this, went unnoticed by both you and sunghoon. who was now chasing his own pleasure inside of your divine pussy that kept trying to push him out while your back arched in his hold, pushing your chest against his as your body shook with complete overstimulation. he buried himself so deep inside of you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he hugged you when he pressed his tip against your cervix entirely before shooting his load inside of you.

both of you groaned in pleasure, sunghoon whimpering your name as his climax came down on him with intense ecstasy that coursed through his body. each nerve ending of his blazing with fire while his mind melted. you felt so unreal.

he finally came down from his high, allowing the two of you to catch your breaths as he was rooted still so deep inside of you. “you okay, doll?” he mumbled lowly only for you to hear, panting on your skin while you nodded tiredly, eyes clearly droopy and sleepy making him chuckle. finding all of your expressions so adorable.

“you did so good for me, little girl.” he kissed your lips, savouring the taste of you on his tongue and lips before he gently pulled away. pulling his softening length out and quickly fixing his clothing before grabbing your discarded towel to help clean you up. unaware of the fact that there was a looming, pissed jaeyun behind him like his shadow.

“what the fuck sunghoon!?” he suddenly yelled, making the two of you jump in surprise before you tiredly looked over and sunghoon angrily turned around. “the fuck are you yelling for?” he furrowed his eyebrows, seriously what was this dude thinking right now?

“you cheated!” he pointed his finger, eyes wide with the accusation as sunghoon only glanced at him one more time before returning to assist you. “didn’t he basically cheat?!” the shorter one turned around to face johnny who was too busy flirting with the next contestants, “yeah yeah you could do anything as long as you make the girl squirt, sim” he waved him off.

“why the fuck am i just knowing this?!”

at the end of the competition, sunghoon— as predicted won. he walked out of that place with not only an upset jaeyun and a hundred dollar bill, but also the love of his life.

a,note. thanks for reading !! (⺣◡⺣)♡

[fawniswriting]

Before I Could Say It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Synopsis: The three times Bucky almost confessed his love to you, and the one time he finally does.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning(s): can be read as gn!reader bcs I didn't use any gender-specific words (pls advise me if this isn't true). canon divergence. no use of Y/N. use of the nicknames sugar and sweetheart. insecure thoughts. bucky feeling like he's not good enough. unrequited love (or is it?). alcohol consumption. a bit hurt/comfort. profanities. use of weaponry, including but not limited to guns and knives. depictions of violence, blood, injuries, and murder. (near) death experience. angst. fluff. open ending.

Author's Note: Hii guys. I know I should be focusing all of my energy on Faithfully Yours right now, but I had the idea for this story and just couldn't pass it up!! We have a bit of an open ending here. I wasn't planning on making a part two but I'll see what the general consensus say and will decide whether or not a part two is due from the responses. anywayy hope you enjoy this one xx don't forget to comment, like, and reblog!!

When Bucky tried to think about the beginning, his mind always drew a blank.

It had been five years since the first time destiny orchestrated your paths to cross, six if one were to count the one-year cryogenic sleep that Bucky spent in Wakanda. The Soldat met you first, back when you, Steve, Sam, and Nat fought him on that highway shoot-out that revealed his identity. After that, you were everywhere—in Bucharest with Steve to coax him out of hiding, on the tarmac battle where you went against half of your own family for his sake, and even in Wakanda, where your eyes became one of the last pairs he saw before his body succumbed to the unforgiving clutches of darkness.

And when he was finally woken up, you were there, too, waiting for him.

Since then, Bucky struggled to remember a time when you weren't there. You supervised his deprogramming in Wakanda, becoming Steve's eyes and ears while the Captain roamed the world as both a fugitive and a vigilante. When the Sokovia Accords turned void, and the scientists in Wakanda assured Bucky that his mind wasn't going to betray his heart anymore, you took him back to New York, offering solace in the form of your warmth pressing against his side on the plane ride to the States. 

Even once the two of you landed on the compound's grounds, you never strayed too far—standing between Bucky and a begrudging Tony as if you were ready to launch yourself forward should the billionaire try to do anything untoward. As if the ruthless Winter Soldier needed a human shield to prevent him from shattering into fragile little pieces.

Before Bucky knew it, his entire routine—his entire life—became you.

From your morning spar sessions in the gym, the long walks around Brooklyn in the afternoon, to the weekly movie nights that you roped him into in the name of reacquainting him with pop culture—everything in Bucky’s life started to shape and smell like you. 

It was a constant. 

You were Bucky’s new constant.

And somewhere along the way, Bucky’s little troublemaker of a heart decided, once and for all, to anchor itself to yours.

True to his fashion, Steve was the first person to notice. All of the lingering touches and longing glances, the hard-etched lines of Bucky’s countenance that seemed to soften every time you were near—they spoke of an affection beyond a mere loyalty one might harbor for their teammate. It spoke of love, one that was so unadulteratedly pure and raw that Steve was sure there was no room left in the crevices of Bucky’s heart where a piece of you didn’t reside in.

“You’ve gotta say something, Buck,” Steve said to Bucky one evening.

The two of them were standing in the convention hall of a lavish hotel deep in the heart of Manhattan, surrounded by a guestlist of people that Bucky was assured were some of the most influential figures of the twenty-first century. People tried to swarm him since the moment he entered the party, shoving business cards to his face and dropping names that Bucky knew should have meant something to him. He paid none of them any mind—not when his eyes immediately found you in that sea of ties and ball gowns, just like a moth enticed to a flame.

You were all dolled up for the night, wearing a fancy little number that screams you if only with a little bit of additional sparkles sprinkled on top. Bucky watched you move through the ocean of people, confidence oozing out of every step, a blinding smile as you received each handshake with an indisputable poise. Bucky’s head whipped towards your direction at every echo of laughter, searching for the source, drinking in your infectious glee as if it were the only way to sustain the rhythmic beating of his heart.

Bucky shifted in his feet, Steve’s unprompted advice forcing him to tear his eyes away from where you were standing by Natasha’s side. The blond beside him smiled knowingly, a teasing yet sincere tilt in his voice as he added, “You’ve gotta tell at some point, pal. Better sooner rather than later.”

The line in Bucky’s jaw ticked. He brought the glass of champagne to his lips, tipping the drink back as though the liquid stood a chance against his enhanced metabolism. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Buck.”

“Punk.”

The Captain sighed, reaching for a drink of his own. “At least ask for a dance, will you?”

Before Bucky could register what was happening, Steve had shoved Bucky forward, sending him stumbling forth towards the direction of your canorous laughter. Steve hid his amused smile behind his drink when Bucky flipped him the finger, the latter continuing his steps on wobbly feet, trying to ignore the pounding travelling up his bloodstreams.

“Hey, Bucky,” you greeted as soon as he had reached you. The smile on your face could rival the sun even on its brightest day, and Bucky prayed to every divine being in the universe that he could be on the receiving end of that smile for the rest of his days.

“Barnes.” Natasha nodded. 

“Hey, guys. What’s up?” Bucky attempted a smile, tugging at the ridiculous material of his bow tie that Tony had insisted him to wear. In fact, Tony was the one who forced Bucky to attend this whole shindig in the first place—something about showing a united front to prove to the public that there was no bad blood within the Avengers’ team. 

It was a shit ton of bullshit, in Bucky’s opinion.

But at least, the party gave him a chance to see you all dressed up to the nines.

“Nothing much.” You shrugged, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Did you need something?”

“No. I mean, I do. I was, um, wondering—” Bucky cleared his throat, “—I actually wanted to see if you’d care to join me for a dance?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Natasha’s eyes widen slightly. The redhead immediately scurried to the side, feigning interest in the tower of chocolate fondue just a couple of feet away.

Bucky’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest when you extended your palm towards him. “I would love to, Buck. Lead the way.”

Your fingers emitted warmth inside his hand, and for a moment, Bucky faltered. He kept his composure enough to guide you through the sea of couples on the dancefloor, willing the erratic thumping in his chest to quieten down as he pulled you flush against his body. The scent of your perfume slithered through the air, filling Bucky’s lungs, attacking each part of his senses until everything Bucky saw, heard, smelled, and felt was you.

“You look beautiful tonight, Sugar.”

The admission tumbled from his lips before Bucky had a chance to stop them, before he could thoroughly process the implications of such candor. You didn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, your persistent smile widened ever so slightly, your eyes twinkling under the glimmering lights of the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Why, you look plenty dashing yourself, Bucky.” You hummed appreciatively, raking your eyes up and down Bucky’s suit-clad figure. “I must say, I was sad to see your long hair gone, but this looks great as well.”

Your fingers skimmed the hard contour of Bucky’s shoulder, leaving goosebumps on their wake, before sneaking through the short tendrils on the nape of his neck. He fought off a groan at the contact, the heavenly feeling of your fingers tugging at his hair sending shivers all throughout his body. Meanwhile, you were still smiling up at him all sweetly, completely oblivious to the rush of heat that you delivered through Bucky’s entire being.

“Sugar,” the nickname fell off Bucky’s lips in a low grunt, and for the first time that night, your composure staggered. 

Your breath hitched around a squeak when Bucky managed to tug you closer, circling his arms around your waist until there was barely room for air between both of your bodies. All around you, the world ceased to exist. The only thing that remained were your bated breaths, a raucous disruption through the electric field buzzing between where you and Bucky were pressed against one another. 

“I need to tell you something,” Bucky revealed, his voice low and sheer, stripped by unease and something akin to fear. 

Your forehead furrowed, undoubtedly sensing the trepidation shining out of the blue of Bucky’s eyes. “What’s the matter, Buck?”

Your palm landed on his stubbled cheek, and Bucky had to fight the urge to lean in, to chase more of your warmth like you were an oasis in the middle of his desert of a life. He grappled for the confession to come, for the feelings in his chest to solidify into something comprehensible. All Bucky had to do was open his mouth and seize the moment.

But just as quickly as it had arrived, the moment splintered through his fingertips.

“Good evening, everyone!”

Bucky's whole body jerked in surprise, his accusatory eyes instantly finding the MC standing on the stage at the front of the room. The music had stopped, replaced by the MC's welcoming remarks addressed towards a dozen supposedly prominent names that Bucky couldn't care less about.

“Hey, let's go find a seat,” you suggested, circling your tender fingers around Bucky's wrist before leading him through the maze of tables.

The two of you sat down just in time for Tony to deliver his opening speech as a representative of the Avengers. You glanced at Bucky in the middle of Tony's heartfelt sentiment about “shaping the future”, your hand finding Bucky's flesh one on his thigh, unaware of the kind of turmoil you have summoned from a single touch.

“You okay, Bucky?” you asked, squeezing his hand. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

I wanted to tell you that I love you, Bucky's heart echoed. I don't know when it started, and I don't know how, all I know is that you're every good thing that I have going on in my life.

Bucky's throat tightened.

He never ended up saying the words out loud. Instead, he smiled thinly. “It's not important, sweetheart. I'll tell you later.”

You assessed him curiously before offering him a small smile and directing your attention back towards the stage. Bucky sighed in the aftermath, feeling the wild beating of his heart settled to a normal one.

And just like that, the truth died on the tip of his tongue.

Weeks passed, and between countless briefings, missions, and reports, Bucky was forced to push all matters concerning his heart to the side. It wasn't easy, not when you occupied every facet of Bucky's otherwise monotone life. Every waking moment was a painful reminder that you were always within reach, but never close enough for him to have.

Following a successful infiltration into an illegal bio-weapon factory in the outskirts of Poland, the team had landed their jet on one of the safehouse grounds somewhere near the border of Poland and Germany. Natasha and Clint disappeared inside the house immediately upon landing, while Sam and Steve stayed on the quinjet to go over a few intels they had managed to gather from the factory.

Bucky's boots scraped softly against the grass as he crossed the distance towards the small lake just a few yards left to the safehouse. The surrounding trees rustled in the wind, a symphony of reds and oranges beneath the solemn autumn sky. On the shore of the lake, Bucky found you sitting, a rare serene look on your face as you closed your eyes to welcome the impending breeze.

“Hi, Bucky,” you greeted, eyes still shut tightly.

“How'd you know it was me, Sugar?”

“I always know when it's you.”

The moment your eyes opened, Bucky's heart stuttered in its cage. The smile you rewarded him was soft, embellished with a tenderness that a man of his repute would never deserve. He knew he should have looked away, but the selfish part of him wanted to hold your stare in place, to relish in your kindness no matter how much he believed he wasn't worthy of it.

“Come on, sit with me.”

You patted the ground next to you, and Bucky obeyed without further questions. He lowered himself on the grass, damp from the lingering chill of autumn air, and stretched his legs out. For a while, neither of you spoke, opting to enjoy the sound of water lapping lazily against the shore, a stark tranquility to the horrors you faced during the mission earlier.

The sky dimmed a tad darker as the sun ducked behind the cover of trees, leaving behind streaks of purple and gold on the horizon. Beside him, you heaved out a sigh, the remnants of sun casting your skin in an ethereal glow.

“Sometimes I wish moments like this could last forever,” you murmured.

Bucky's eyes slid towards you, studying the contours of your face like a historian would an ancient scripture. His fingers twitched, itching to feel every soft and hard edge of your features under the brush of his touch. 

You're the only thing in this world I want forever with.

The words resonated in his head and all the way down to his chest, settling like stone sinking underwater, slow and heavy. He almost said it out loud—nearly laid his heart bare for you to judge and scrutinize. But at last, he fabricated a grin and nudged his shoulder playfully to yours.

“You always get sentimental when you're tired,” he joked.

You laughed heartily at his jab, a melodic thing that wrested at every coil of Bucky's heartstrings. The two of you proceeded to watch the sunset together, the silence stretching between you, warm and comfortable. The sky burned in more explosions of hues, casting its reflection upon the lake like a dream neither of you dared to disturb. 

If Bucky were a braver man, a better man—one that wasn't weighed down by his history and remorse—maybe he would have told you. Maybe, in another life, Bucky would have charmed you at first sight, claiming you as his before the day could even end. But for now, Bucky was glad to settle for this—for sharing a quiet moment with you, and to bask in your company as though he were worthy of even a fraction of your attention.

For now, Bucky would let the four-letter word wither inside him, locked in a hidden fissure somewhere within his chest, keeping it safe from ever seeing any light of day.

Days flew by, and it was getting increasingly harder for Bucky to ignore the way his heart gravitated towards yours, to ignore the fact that you were always the first person he searched for in the morning and the last one he wanted to talk to before falling asleep. To pretend like the mere mention of your name didn't send a jolt that revived his entire being. Every single day was a battle between wish and logic—the unruly desire to make you his, and the rational reluctance of dragging you into the mess that was his life.

“This is getting ridiculous, Buck,” Steve said as he leaned back against the bar right next to Bucky, following the latter's eyesight to find you standing at the end of it. “You're just gonna avoid it forever? An eternal silent treatment? The two of you need to talk, whether you like it or not.”

Bucky inhaled a long breath, swirling the Asgardian mead in his glass without ever taking his eyes off you. It was your birthday—a joyous occasion that called for this merry yet intimate celebration with the entire team. The common room of the compound had been transformed into something warm and inviting, lit by the soft glow of string lights draped along the walls. A cake sat on the counter, half-eaten, its candles long blown out, but the remnants of your laughter from when you made your wish still lingered in the air.

From across the room, Bucky watched as Sam teased you about getting older, earning the bird-man a playful swat on his arm. Wanda handed you a small, neatly wrapped gift, and your eyes lit up in a way that made Bucky’s chest ache. He didn’t know what was in the box. He didn’t really care. All he knew was that he wanted to be the reason behind that breathtaking smile of yours.

And then, your eyes lifted.

The eye contact was fleeting. Brief. Gone by the time Bucky realized what was happening and forced his gaze away. Even then, Bucky still caught the hint of surprise as your eyes found his, replaced almost immediately by a longing that Bucky understood all too well. It clutched onto his heart, sinking its sharp nails until the life organ in his chest was bruised and brutally torn apart.

The Captain sighed. “You're being an idiot, pal.”

Bucky knew Steve was right—he was being an idiot. A coward, even. It was his own damn foolishness that had kept him avoiding you for weeks, skipping your morning spars, slipping out of any room you occupied before you could even notice his presence. All because he couldn’t handle the feelings that had taken root in his chest, the one that was growing stronger by the minute, infiltrating deeper into his system every time you so much as looked his way.

The party was still in full swing by the time Bucky decided to retire for the night, forgoing the goodbyes, heading straight to the elevator that took him back to his quarters. It was a few hours later when a clumsy knock sounded against his door, breaking through the quiet that had settled in his room.

“Sugar?”

Bucky's hand clenched around the door handle, his eyebrows knitting together at the sight of you in front of his bedroom.

“Hi, Buckyyy,” you greeted, your words slurring into uncontrollable giggles.

 Understanding dawned on Bucky's shoulders. “Sweetheart, are you drunk?”

“Am not!” You huffed, pushing past a stunned Bucky to enter the bedroom. 

You looked around for a moment, humming to yourself every time you came across a familiar token that decorated Bucky's room. There was a photo of you and him on the nightsand, a sketch of the Brooklyn Bridge courtesy of Steve hanging on the wall, and a few vinyl records stacked neatly on the shelf, gifted by various members of the team. At last, your steps halted beside the bed, and without a warning, you dove head first into the mattress, chuckling to yourself as you attempted to make snow angels with his blankets.

“This is sooo niceee,” you mused, burying youself deeper into one of Bucky's pillows. “Smells like you, Buck.”

The super soldier tried not to dwell too much on the sight of you lying on his bed, looking like you had always belonged in the same place that Bucky took his rest. A shiver ran down Bucky's spine as he closed the door behind him, his feet quiet against the carpeted floor before he took a tentative seat on the edge of the bed.

“Sugar?” Bucky took your shoulders in his grasp, turning you around until his eyes locked with yours. His heart staggered. “You wanna get back to your room? I could take you.”

His offer made you sit up in seconds, so fast that Bucky feared you might have given yourself a whiplash. He stared at you as your lips trembled, your whole body turning away from him until you were just a breadth out of his reach.

His fingers contracted in grief.

“Hey, Sugar? What's—”

“Why do you hate me?”

Silence.

Bucky's forehead creased in confusion.

“Hate you?” Bucky tasted the accusation on his tongue—the word being so foreign and farfetched from anything he could associate with you that Bucky had to wonder if he had misheard what you spoke. “Sweetheart, I don't hate you.”

“Liar.” You scoffed, scooting towards the foot of the bed, seemingly adamant to draw as much distance as possible between Bucky and yourself. “You have been avoiding me for weeks. You don't want to talk to me, or do anything with me. You hate me.”

Bucky blinked, stunned into momentary silence before shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the sheer absurdity of your words. “That’s not true,” he murmured, his voice rough with something that sounded dangerously close to regret.

You laughed at his response—a wry, sarcastic laugh that was void of even the smallest hint of your usual warmth. “Then what other possible reason could you have for avoiding me, Bucky? Hm?” Your head turned towards him, and for the first time that night, Bucky finally saw the telltale sign of tears in your eyes, a glassy sheen that erased any remnant of the wits that Bucky had grown to know and love.

His stomach churned.

Guilt was eating at him alive. He couldn't believe that his stupidity had caused this—that he had hurt you due to his own incapability of controlling his emotions. Bucky didn't know what he was thinking when he decided that the best course of action would be to completely evade you, but he certainly didn't think that it would result in this.

With you, sitting on his bed, crying your eyes out while simultaneously breaking Bucky's heart in the process.

Bucky exhaled sharply, as if the weight of his own remorse was pressing down on his chest. He couldn't stand it—the way your shoulders quivered, the way you tried so desperately to keep your composure together as tears welled in your eyes.

"Sweetheart," he rasped, reaching for you, his fingers hesitant at first before firming in resolve. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

You stiffened at his touch, your lips parting as if to protest, but Bucky was already pulling you into his embrace, holding you tightly against the muscular panes of his chest. His hands skimmed soothingly along your back, whispers of sweet nothings falling from his lips as he rocked you in the safety of his arms.

“I don't hate you, Sugar,” he murmured, voice shattering around the edges. “I've never hated you. How could I?”

How could I hate you when you are the only source of light I have remaining in this world? How could I hate you when loving you is the only thing about my life that I am absolutely certain of?

Your breath hitched against his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Bucky—”

“Shh,” he soothed, pressing his lips to your temple in a featherlight touch. “Just let me hold you, okay?”

Slowly, he guided the both of you down onto his bed, his arms never loosening from where they were wrapped around your body. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek, his fingers drawing lazy patterns against your back. The tension in your body melted bit by bit with each gentle word, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into something softer—something safe.

“Don't ever do that to me again,” you warned shakily. “Promise me.”

Bucky's hold around you tightened. “I promise.”

“Good.” You sighed, exhaustion wearing down every inch of your bones. “You're my favorite person, Bucky.”

The admission pierced Bucky's chest like a lightning strike. He knew he should not have read too much into it, that the revelation was nothing more than a drunken slip of tongue that you probably would not even remember in the morning. But for now, Bucky chose to let that little detail slide, to let himself pretend that the confession had been made with more purposeful intent behind it—that the words had meant as much to you as it did to Bucky.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I've got you."

Since that night in his bedroom, Bucky had made a vow: he wasn't going to run anymore.

Bucky had learned his lesson. He wasn't going to let his own fears dictate his actions, nor would he allow his emotions ruin the precious friendship he had built with you over the past few years. Whatever he felt—whatever torment clawed at his chest whenever you so much as looked his way—it was his burden to bear. You didn't deserve to suffer for his cowardice, and he swore to himself that he would never let it happen again.

That thought lingered in Bucky's mind as he moved stealthily through the abandoned industrial site, gun drawn, boots scraping silently against the cracked concrete floor. The mission was straightforward: take out remaining hostiles, extract any valuable intel, and regroup. Simple. A basic in and out job that would be done just in time for dinner.

The team had split into pairs, and as fate would have it—or rather, as Steve would have it—Bucky found himself assigned to the west wing of the site alongside you. The direct channel to your comms in Bucky’s earpiece was quiet, and the super soldier took it as a good indication that your side of the mission was going smoothly. Meanwhile, he swept through his own side of hallways with methodical precision, checking every room, muttering a curt “clear” to his comms for each canvassed area. 

The air was eerie with cold and mold when Bucky entered the last remaining room in the hallway. There was nothing particularly different about this one. It was just as empty and as menacing, smelling of rat’s piss and years of abandonment, though his seasoned instinct—one sculpted from years of fighting and survival—warned him that something was amiss. His fingers tightened around his weapon almost instinctively, feeling an immediate unease venture up his spine, raising the very hair on the back of his neck.

The silence was too perfect.

Bucky’s feet skidded to a stop, turning on his heel to retrace his steps back towards the entrance.

Then, it happened.

The ambush struck like lightning on water. One second Bucky was alone, and the next, shadows had flooded the room, faceless figures in tactical gears leaping towards him at the same time. They were fast and ruthless, and even though none seemed to possess enhanced abilities, Bucky was still outnumbered. He dodged the first three attackers easily enough—disarming the blade from the first assailant’s hand, ducking out of the swinging baton of the second’s, and rolling on the floor before redirecting the third one’s bullet with the palm of his vibranium arm.

Bucky dashed out of the room into the one right across, the group of attackers still hot on his tail. He ducked behind a metal table and started opening fires at the entrance, taking out the threats before they even got the chance to enter the room. A curse fell under his breath when Bucky realized that he had worked through his rounds, scrambling to replace the ammunition as footsteps thundered into the room.

Slamming the fresh magazine in place, Bucky inhaled a gearing breath, only to be met with a sudden hush that descended through the air.

He raised his gun.

Instead of finding himself at the end of numerous gun barrels, Bucky was granted the view of bodies scattered all over the floor. The tang of iron meshed detestably with the spoor of grime, fog swirling around the edge of Bucky’s adrenaline-honed mind. When the dust finally stifled, his focus immediately zeroed in on the figure standing amidst the wreckage, rising out of the smoke like a doomsday’s salvation.

“Hi, handsome.” You smiled around a heavy exhale, a crinkle in your eye that seized the very life out of Bucky’s lungs. “Miss me?”

Bucky let out a rough breath, somewhere between relief and admiration. The grip around his weapon slackened ever so slightly, his body still thrumming with fight-and-flight, though the sight of your beautiful smile had managed to wash him with the kind of serenity that no other person could compel.

“Was wondering when you’d show up, sweetheart,” Bucky said, rising from his makeshift fortress behind the table.

“Sorry, Sarge.” You hummed, casually brushing the dust off Bucky’s shoulder as though the contact didn’t send him skyrocketing to heaven. “You know I like to keep people on their toes.”

Bucky failed to suppress his grin, nudging your shoulder as the two of you headed towards the entrance. With the hostiles neutralized, and the information uploaded to the flash drive discreetly tucked in the safety of Bucky’s inside pocket, the two of you were prepared for extraction. He redirected his comms to the main channel, alerting the other team members that the two of you were ready to wrap up and get the hell out of this dismal place.

He was barely a foot out of the door when a loud bang resonated in the air.

In a split second, Bucky sprung in retaliation, taking aim at one of the bloody assailants on the ground that had somehow taken hold of a gun, Bucky’s finger pulling at his own weapon’s trigger, assassinating him in place.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Bucky’s heart throbbed in his throat, a silent prayer on his lips at how close of a call it had almost been. His gaze took a quick scan of the pile of bodies on the floor, making sure that none of them would pull a similar stunt, only allowing his shoulders to deflate when he saw no remaining signs of life.

“Bucky?”

Your voice barely reached him, thin despite the echoic air of this dingy site, but something inside Bucky twisted the moment he heard it.

When he turned, the initial relief that had flooded his chest instantly collapsed.

You were standing there, just a breadth out of reach with your gun still tightly clutched between your fingers. But the side of your neck—God, the side of your neck—was slick with red, thick and dark as it ran in angry runnels down your skin, staining the collar of your tactical gear, pooling on your shoulder and drenching everything it touched.

Your whole body swayed.

Bucky’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

“No, no, no—” he rasped as he caught you, arms winding around your frame to prevent you from hitting the floor. His knees slammed onto the cold concrete below as he cradled you against his chest, the tremble in his body betraying the steel he was supposed to be made out of.

Bucky blinked, willing this moment to splinter into a dream, willing for his body to be transported back into the comfort of his bedroom where the scene playing out in front of his eyes would be nothing more than a heinous nightmare. But as Bucky’s arms tightened around your limp figure, the awful, gut-wrenching truth settled like ice in his veins. 

This was real. 

The blood seeping through your gear wasn’t imagined. The faint hitch in your breath, the loss of color from your face, the sheer terror clawing its way up his throat—none of it was a dream.

His chest crashed.

“Hey, hey. I got you, Sugar.” His voice cracked as he pressed a palm against your wound, despairingly staunching the warmth from slipping through his fingers. But no matter how hard he was grasping, the blood just kept on flowing—too fast and too much—soaking his hands and every corner of his battered soul.

“Shit. Stay with me, sweetheart. Please,” he begged. “Steve! Nat! Somebody get here now!” he barked into his earpiece, nails digging deeper into your skin. “We need a medic! We need a—fuck—just get down here!”

You made a sound, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, your breath warm against his cheek as you murmured, “I-It’s gonna… gonna be o-okay.”

It was a lie.

You both knew it.

And it destroyed him. 

“Don’t do that.” Bucky shook his head, his voice cracking around a choked sob. He forced a smile as he looked down at your pale face. “You always suck at lying.”

Your lips parted, the faintest ghost of a smile trying to make its way through, only to be interrupted by a wet cough that made Bucky’s chest cave in.

“Gotta stay with me, sweetheart. Please,” Bucky whimpered. “The team’s coming. Help is on the way. Just gotta hang in there a little more for me, yeah? Just a little longer. Please.”

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure to whom he was begging—whether it was you, the universe, or any higher divine power that might have heard his wretched prayer and taken pity on him. A man who had lost everything and asked for nothing, who was now asking for someone—anyone—to save the only thing in this world that made his life worth living, even if it meant having to sacrifice his soul in exchange.

Your hand reached out tentatively, shakily, gripping the strap of his tactical jacket and giving it the faintest tug. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, voice dissipating like a wisp of smoke as soon as you had uttered his name. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, searched for his, and when they finally found him, a weak smile curved at your lips. “I love you.”

A sound tore from his throat, raw and full of despair. His forehead dropped against yours, his entire body rupturing under the weight of your words.

“I love you.” Bucky’s voice stammered. “God, I love you—I love you, sweetheart, I love you so much.” He pressed his lips against your clammy forehead, again and again, as though he could tether you here, as though his love alone could be enough to keep you from slipping away.

He should have been happy—should have felt something else other than this hollow, scorching agony. The person of his dreams, the one he had spent sleepless nights longing for, had just made the one admission that his heart had been wanting to hear, and yet, all he could do was break. His whole being perished under the weight of everything left unsaid, every moment wasted, every regret carving him open from the inside out.

He should have told you sooner.

God, he should have just told you—should have braced past his insecurities and found the courage somehow, should have showered you with every drop of love he had neatly stowed in his heart until he was shriveled and had no else to give. He should have bought you flowers everyday, let you know that you were the most beautiful person Bucky had ever met on this goddamn planet—because you deserved it.

You deserved everything.

Not this.

Not bleeding on the filthy floor of this desolate place, fighting off death that had bludgeoned its way right through your door.

“You’re gonna be okay, Sugar. We’re getting out of here, you hear me?” His breath stuttered, his grip tightening as if he could physically gather all of your fragmented pieces and mend you as new. “I’m gonna treat you so good. You’ll see. Gonna spoil you rotten like I ought to. Just—please, just hold on—”

Your fingers twitched against his chest. Your eyes fluttered.

A quivering breath left your lips before your body went completely limp.

Bucky stilled.

“Sugar?”

Nothing.

No soft inhale. No faint murmurs of response.

No squeeze of your fingers against his jacket.

Bucky’s entire world came crashing down in the blink of an eye.

“No. No, no, no, no—”

His hand cupped your face, blood smearing from his skin to yours. Bucky’s fingers trembled as he tapped your cheek, as if the action alone could keep you here, could bring you back to him. His breathing ceased, his whole body shuddering as he rocked you in his arms, your name tumbling over and over again from his lips like a prayer, like a curse, like a plea to the universe to undo everything, to give him one more chance, to take him instead.

“Come back to me,” he whispered, his face wet with the fractured shards of his heart. “Please.”

The only thing that acknowledged him was silence.

And Bucky Barnes had never hated the quiet more.

[norrisjpg]

only angel - ʟɴ⁴

the one where lando's best friend finally admits she's not the most experienced in the bedroom - and that's all it takes to flip their innocent dynamic.

part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten

contains; fluff, soft dom!lando, nsfw, smut; clitoral stimulation, implied masturbation, implied squirting, praise kink, mentions of fingering; inexperienced!femoc, talks of loss of virginity, swearing.

...

...

angelic rays of sunlight beamed in through the open windows of a monaco apartment, illuminating the body splayed out on the tangled white sheets of a large bed. it was summer, the air smelt of salt and ice cream, the clouds were nowhere to be seen, and the gentle breeze floated through the crisp air like a melody.

the softest of groans escaped her lips as she rolled away from the very thing that had woken her, and in her slightly hungover state, she had failed to notice how close she was to the edge of her moderately high bed.

thud!

"fuck," lily groaned, laying on the floor in a puddle of last night's carelessly discarded clothes.

footsteps echoed around the apartment, sounding like they were getting closer but she couldn't tell if it was just her throbbing head making things up. lily took a moment to glance downward, feeling a little cold at the loss of her duvet. she was wearing a bra - ew, why had she slept in a bra? - and her underwear was still on, albeit a little lower than what would be considered modest.

she gently pulled them up and managed to drag herself to her feet, and of course, this is when her door swung open. there he was - the reason for her hungover state - in all his glory, looking too good for this time in the morning.

"i heard a bang, are you okay?" lando asked, tilting his head at the girl, who looked a little dishevelled and very tired.

"fell out of bed." she murmured. "i hate you."

"how is it my fault that you fell out of bed?" he retorted, scrunching his face up in the same way he always did.

"because you got me drunk, and now i'm hungover, you twat." she huffed, picking up the clothes on the floor and tossing them into her laundry basket, not bothered by her lack of clothing in front of him.

"oh, get over yourself." lando rolled his eyes with a playful grin.

her response was a grumpy middle finger and she shooed him out of her bedroom, mumbling something about a beauty sleep and how men are so annoying - so lando just left her to it.

in all honesty, his mind had been running at a million miles an hour all morning - reeling from something lily had so casually mentioned last night.

"hey, i'm not a slut!" she slurred, in the cutest way possible.

a joking comment had been made by one of her closest friends, alexandra, about how her dress was a little slutty, and in all honesty it was. alex knew she could say these things to lily because well, they had been best friends before lily even knew who lando was... so a long time.

"if anything, i'm the opposite of a slut." lily giggled softly, leaning back into lando, his arm was draped over her shoulders. "harry and i never had sex anyway and-"

before she could elaborate, their friends returned with the next round of drinks, and the topic of conversation switched rapidly.

surely not.

harry and lily had dated for five years, from when she was sixteen, until she was twenty-one. their relationship was great, until new years' eve of twenty-nineteen came around. lily was well aware that harry was growing impatient with her. harry wanted sex, lily didn't feel she was ready yet. it's not that she felt pressured, but that she wanted to please him, so here she was. to cut a long and slightly traumatic story short, lily had gotten scared as harry was unzipping his jeans - and literally ran away.

somehow, the couple didn't break up for another two years - but the real reason behind that was that once harry realised he wasn't going to be - in his words - 'hitting it' any time soon, he found release in the grasp of some girl he went to college with in maranello. he cheated on lily for two years, and she didn't suspect a thing until he came to visit her after the covid lockdown.

they'd gone out for lunch, and harry had let it slip that he'd had to buy plan b pills recently - and well, that was the end of that.

now, it was news to lando that she and harry hadn't ever gotten intimate with each other - and well, he knew she hadn't brought anyone back to their apartment in time they'd been living together, but surely she'd been getting laid elsewhere.

it would make sense in some ways though. he always noticed how she'd flush a pretty pink colour when ever his hand lingered on her waist, how she'd look undoubtedly flustered whenever his gaze was trained on her, and how she'd become increasingly uncomfortable when a sex scene played in a movie they were watching.

surely not though, right?

lando's dangerous train of thought was interrupted by the soft thudding of footsteps travelling to his ears. his head snapped up to the girl rubbing her eyes, stood groggily behind the couch he was sat on.

"i thought you were having your beauty sleep?" lando teased, raising his eyebrows at the brunette girl, now dressed in the quadrant rugby shirt he had exclusively gifted her in january.

"couldn't sleep, my head hurts too bad." she mumbled, rolling her eyes at his teasing comment. "why do i let you get me drunk?"

"because you love me, duh." he responded, somewhat sassily, making a quiet laugh tumble from her lips.

"whatever, norris." she breathed out, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing some aspirin out of the cupboard below the sink.

she downed two pills along with a cold glass of water, wincing as she felt the cold liquid travel down to her stomach. lando's gaze was lingering, like it usually did - the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, the way she squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw as the pills were taken down in her pretty mouth - she was just so... enticing.

"come here." lando beckoned softly, gesturing for her to come lay with him. "you can nap here if you want."

"please." she groaned softly, plopping down on the couch next to him and immediately resting her head on his lap.

he noticed the goosebumps rippling across her skin, wondering whether he was causing them, or it was because she was cold. he went with the latter, and pulled the wool blanket on the armrest over her body.

"thankyou." lily murmured, reaching up for his hand to hold, innocently craving some physical touch.

he gently entwined their fingers, caressing her hand with his large thumb. within about three or four minutes, lily had drifted off into a sweet slumber, snuggling into lando's warmth.

...

it had been driving lando quite literally insane all day.

he didn't have the courage to straight up ask her if she was a virgin or not, so here he was, dancing around the question like a fucking tap dancer.

"so you and harry?" lando said quietly, almost praying that she wouldn't hear him.

her head snapped up from her phone, eyebrows knitted together in a confused frown. "yes?"

"well, i mean you never really told me about why he's made you not want to date anyone." lando shrugged, his tone seeming a little apprehensive, not wanting to strike a nerve. "like i know he cheated on you, but was that the only thing?"

"um..." she pursed her lips, a little gobsmacked that he was even bringing up the subject of harry, a typically sore topic for her - but she answered nonetheless. "he always pushed me for sex, and... i wasn't ready back then."

"he didn't... did he?" the pause in lando's words made it clear what he meant.

"oh god, no, nothing like that, don't worry." lily shook her head quickly. "but we were like so close to doing it once, and i got scared - then he kind of just... never tried again."

"oh." oh? ask her the question, dumbass. "so... you didn't lose your virginity to him then?"

"no," the brunette shook her head softly.

"when did you lose it then?" lando said quickly, the words falling from his mouth before he even registered the question.

lily went what only can be described as crimson. it's not that she was embarrassed - well, actually she was. lily thought it was a bad thing - she was a literal model, and at the grand age of twenty-three, she still hadn't lost her v-card.

she hesitated, before murmuring, "i- uh... i haven't."

"oh." do you really not have anything better to say, dipshit?

"yeah." she pursed her lips once more, averting her gaze to an inanimate object somewhere in the room.

"do you want to?" lando himself now had no idea where this was going, he was kind of just rolling with whatever fell out of his mouth now.

"of course i do." she huffed. "it's just... i don't want to lose it to some random guy i meet on raya or some shit. and i feel like it's going to put people off, like they're going to think something is wrong with me."

a soft frown made its way onto lando's face, and he shook his head.

"nothing is wrong with you, lily." the brit reassured her. "don't ever think that there's something wrong with you because you weren't ready for sex when someone pushed you for it."

she fell quiet, taking in his words gratefully, looking down at her hands in her lap.

"anyway, i'd rather have some experience before i launch myself into dating again." she admitted, glancing up at lando to gage his reaction - she wasn't really sure what she was suggesting, but she wanted to see what lando thought of it. "but i just... don't know where to get said experience."

lando contemplated, trying to decide whether he should just offer himself up on a platter or not. in all honesty, the thought of her dating anyone else made him feel physically nauseous, let alone the new knowledge that she'd be letting someone else be her first - that made him want to die in a puddle of his own tears.

"well..." he began, his words trailing off. "i could always um... help you out."

she slowly lifted her head up, looking at him with a dazed expression, not sure if she'd heard him right. "what?"

"i wouldn't mind uh.. helping you gain some experience." lando repeated, a little more confident from seeing the dazed look in her eyes. "teach you what us guys like, teach you what you like."

lily blinked at her best friend, furrowing her eyebrows. "really?"

"if you'd be up for it, yeah." he nodded, leaning back against the couch a little more. "and we'd go slow, promise. we can take it at whatever pace you'd like, sweetheart."

the way he called her 'sweetheart' made her inner thighs tingle and heat pool in her lower tummy. she simply nodded, too in shock from this agreement they'd just made - was she really going to fuck her best friend in the somewhat near future?

"words, come on." he said slowly, gesturing for her to come to him on the other side of the couch.

"yeah, yeah." she breathed out, getting up and walking to him. "i want that."

"sit." he patted his lap, and she just stared, doe-eyed.

he chuckled softly, leaning up and grabbing her hips, pulling her down on his lap so she was straddling him, her face now at a level height with him.

"is this okay?" he murmured softly, pushing her hair behind her shoulder, mapping out all the places he wanted to kiss her.

"yeah," she breathed out. "i'll tell you if it's not."

"atta' girl." he praised softly, and lily could have whined at his words.

okay, so lando hadn't even touched her and he'd already discovered she had a praise kink - a good start.

instead of whining, her breath hitched and her cheeks flushed once again, earning a soft smirk from lando as he traced his index finger over her jawline.

"can i kiss you, pretty girl?" lando asked softly, now cupping her jaw with one hand, and drawing circles on her tummy with the other.

it's like her whole world stopped, that sentence was like music to her ears.

"yeah." she breathed out, eyes flicking over the drop-dead gorgeous features on his tanned face.

usually, lando was a sucker for rough sex, fast and hard. but, while he knew he had to be gentle with her - something else about her just made him want to treat her like glass. he wanted her to fall apart in his arms, but in the most loving and delicate way possible.

so, he leant in, his head a little tilted, briefly brushing their noses together before softly connecting their lips. her breath hitched and he could feel her body melting into his, the delicious weight of her feather-light body deepening into his lap. and that wasn't the only thing changing in his lap.

his cock was hard, painfully hard already. he was pathetic, he had literally only just kissed the girl and he was about ready to cum in his boxers.

the kisses were soft and delicate, tongue involved but it wasn't like he was about to devour her whole. he gently pried her legs apart a little further with his free hand, the one previously tracing circles onto her abdomen.

the most angelic of moans left her lips, and she seemed a little shocked, the movement of her lips faltering briefly. he opened his eyes, tilting her head back with the hand on her jaw, beginning his toe-curling attack on her neck. he nipped at the sensitive skin gently, soothing the area with his lips shortly after - repeating those actions had her a wet mess in his lap within minutes.

she was whining, whimpering, pleading with him to just do something, anything, everything.

lily's pretty pink lips were parted as soft, airy moans tumbled from her lips, her head still tilted back as he peppered kisses across all the right spots. his fingers were toying at the edge of her underwear in between her legs, relishing in the dampness coating his fingertips - she was soaked, the warm liquid coating the crease of her inner thighs.

he pulled his head away from her neck briefly, gazing at her for permission, earning a needy yes from the angel on top of him.

"wanna hear you, okay?" he told her gently, knowing that as this was her first time, she'd be more likely to hold back her pretty noises.

she nodded, biting her lower lip as her breathing turned a little more rapid and a little more shallow.

"good girl." he praised once more, and the heat rolled up her body once more.

lando slid his fingers underneath her panties, bunching them and pushing them to the side. her hips jolted a little as his knuckles brushed over her dripping folds, and he could have groaned at how sensitive the girl was.

"relax." he murmured softly, flicking his stare back up at her face.

he slid his index finger in between her folds, coating his thick fingers with her sweet juices. his jaw fell a little agape as he gaged just how wet she was.

"fucking hell," he murmured, but it fell on deaf ears, lily too focused on relaxing - her lower lip pulled between her teeth and her eyes fluttered closed.

he slid his ring finger beside his index, parting her folds and dragging his middle finger up and down her sensitive cunt.

the urge to just slip his fingers inside of her and make her cum until she couldn't speak was almost irresistible, almost.

he let her get used to the feeling, before switching his singular middle finger for the pad of his thumb, which he pressed directly against her clit.

"fuuuuck-" she moaned out, eyebrows arching as she tossed her head back. "so good- shit-"

lando just admired her as he slowly traced circles and figures of eights on her sensitive bundle of nerves - the most needy moans now falling from her lips frequently, the volume increasing in tandem with the speed of his thumb.

he increased the pressure and she doubled over into his body, pressing her head into his shoulder and biting down on his skin gently - earning a soft noise from him.

"lando- god-" she whined, moaning out his name like a fucking prayer.

he rubbed her back soothingly with his free hand, while increasing the speed of his thumb once more. her entire body was buzzing, bubbling with anticipation of the rapidly incoming orgasm. her lower abdomen was coiled tight, ready to snap at any moment now.

one particularly rough flick of her clit sent her spiralling, her thighs beginning to shake softly around him as she came, hard. sweet liquid gushed all over his hand as she moaned and whimpered his name loudly, coating his fingers as he slowed his movements to coax her through her intense orgasm. it was pure fucking bliss.

lily panted slowly into his neck, her head reeling from the best thing she'd ever felt in her entire life.

"you okay, baby?" lando asked quietly, pressing a soft kiss to her neck.

"fucking hell." she breathed out. "yeah, i'm good, so good."

he chuckled softly, looking at the seemingly-spent girl in his arms. he didn't want to push her any further today, she looked like she was going to fall asleep right there and then.

"come on, let's get you to bed." lando cooed softly, lifting her up from the couch and walking lily to her bedroom.

fuck, he was going to need a cold shower after that.

...

hello! this is my first official series, and i'm super excited about it! i don't have a name for it so feel free to suggest, and any comments in general are appreciated :)

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||An Officer's Corruption part twenty-six||

Hello there dears, Peahen mom here but I'm going to add another part to this mini series. I hope you like it. I couldn't help it so have another one today.

If you wish to see how or where everything is going, you can follow up on the chapters down below.

||Chapters so far||

||Previous Chapters 1-7||((Click here))

((Previous chapters 8-13)) (Click here))

||Previous chapters 14-20)) ((Click here))

Part Twenty one ((NSFW Warning))

Part Twenty two ((NSFW Warning))

Part Twenty three

Part Twenty Four

Part Twenty five

((Your reading part Twenty Six))

||OVA Chapters 1-7|| ((Written by my amazing friend demon mun)) (Click here))

||Warning||

~Violence is seen in this drabble

~Blood is seen on this drabble

~Seduction maybe?

||Drabble Summary||

Seems some of the prisoners have gotten a bit annoyed with how the three officers here in T prison has gotten. Yuji, Kisho, Megumi, along with the Six claws heard some wanted to fight them!? How will the three take care of this Meanwhile, other activity is noticed in the other prisons today too. But lets see what happens shall we?

||Guests in Drabble||

Ira"Kali" Vin-Shia, Ink Vanguard, Kinie Ger, Joshua Star, and anyone else mention belongs to my amazing Rp partner @demon-blood-youths

Oh and the lovely horrors also belong to the side blog @lovelyxhorrors that's also run by Demon mun <3

Ashley Butterfly, Jinx Violet and others mentioned are my OC's and belong to me. Dazai Osamu is from the anime Stray dogs but is also a muse I rp as. Yuji Itadori, Megumi fushiguro, and Yuji Itadori is from Jujutsu Kaisen but is also a muse I rp as.

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble as others have this warning. But like I state before, this is written for fun. So I hope you like it and my friend too. With that, I hope you Enjoy.))

~~~~~In Philly with Ethan and Willow~~~~

Both were quiet while trying to progress what just happened in the meeting. It was shocking to say the least but they didn't want to question what is going on over in New York City. Given their own prison they rule together, it was concerning. True, Aiyana has a police station in her section and Ethan has one in his own.

"Hey Ethan? Should we be worried about what happened in NYC? I mean, hearing that some of those inmates getting out.."

"I know, Willow it's...disturbing to hear but you know how Warden Kinie is. Given her status and what news we seen so far happening over there. We can get it's true." he looks to his desk but sighed, closing his eyes. "Knowing her, she means business..."

"...I guess we'll have to wait and see how this goes won't we? For now, we should be seeing that the officers from our groups are getting the inmates downstairs for lunch. Shall we check on them?" he stood up ready to leave the office but Willow remains there making him stop. "Warden Phoenix?"

"Sorry..just..thinking about something.." she mutters following him while he looks to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"Is something troubling you? Is it the meeting?"

".........It's what Warden Kinie said. About how some inmates can get a second chance. It reminds me of when you helped me during my bad times. I did so many horrible things but.." she mutters remembering but Ethan knew. Years ago when it was just his squad watching over Philly before he and her met. True they had fights, her getting away but it was because of what the evil criminals did to her.

"Now now, come on. You know it was not your fault. Besides, I told you and I know this is true. You don't have to worry about it anymore. Your in a better place and living better. You were confused at the time so don't worry.." he said now holding her hand. She blinks to look then at him only to gently kiss his cheek. "??"

"T..thank you." she mutters but Ethan said nothing to smile while holding her hand.

"Now come on, we have to check on our officers and the inmates." he said as both leave the office together. Time to get to work.

~~~~~~~Meanwhile with Joshua~~~~~~~~

The inmates still remain where they were but as Hellmare and Maggie saw, none tried to get out or argued. When being under Ashley's control it was not too hard. They listen and obeyed while being here. Even new inmates that showed up this early morning was under her entranced spell.

"You know? I don't know how she does this. It's like their zombies but good ones." Maggie saw so many just being quiet or if some was not under her power they were scared not wanting to be.

"Remember Maggie, they are scared of her and her team. Given the notes we read, she is pretty dangerous. But she seems so nervous for one." she mutters thinking about it while drinking some fresh hot tea in a coffee cup. Maggie grumbles eating something but looking at the inmate she was keeping a eye on. What was his name, T-bone? Yeah, he was down there eating his food but heard Hiroshi telling him to not be so down about things. Hellmare was seeing her inmate Hiroshi eating his food but they were both behaving.

"Though..both seem to be good even without being under her control. Still weird." she grumbles eating another bite of her beagle while noticing something. "Oh, did you hear from Joshua and see if he was alright?" she asked Hellmare.

"I heard he's resting right now after checking up with Ashley. She's still in her cell. Seems she was not hungry right now. Though, I guess it could be due to him feeding her." Hellmare hums at the thought but seeing everyone eating. Even if that was true, Ashley was indeed still in her cell but she had the blanket around her while resting against the wall. Her eyes glowing in the dark from where she was.

She did eat again from Joshua but in private, knowing she wouldn't if others were watching. Though, it's only due to their pack he made with her.

~~~~Flashback to the first day she arrived with her team~~~~

"You wish to do...w...what?" she blinks looking to Joshua who was told of what she was. A demon but a succubus who had power of Inferna-Chlorokinesis/demonic plant manipulation. That and being able to help with medicine due to the plants she makes.

"Y..Yes, you heard me. I wish to ask that you make a pack with me. A deal." Joshua was quiet and yet Ashley said nothing nervous to look at him.

"B..but w..why make a p..pack with me? What do you w..want?" she was unsure what to think about this but it worried her.

"I don't want anything from you..but your help." he said that confused her more. He wanted her to help with the prison?

"I..I don't understand. Why are you a...asking an inmate for this?"

"..I know you're the baby sister to the inmate Rex oxford mills that's in Warden Kinie Ger's prison. But I also know your just as dangerous. I read you are an dangerous demon but also a...a succubus. I read your information and I..I can't let you try to eat anyone while being in my prison. The inmates might end up trying to make things worse here and most of them have already caused problems or destroying the areas here. So I'm asking you to at least hear me out." he said.

"..........."

"I wish to make a deal that you can...uhhh help me. I promise I won't do anything if your worried. Same with your team." he said.

"......." She looks down at her lap still confused but Joshua saw her still curled up shaking now. She didn't have the blanket but he was worried.

"Hey are you...okay?"

"I..I'm fine.....Just......hungry." she mutters.

"..You didn't eat anything?" he asked but as he tries to go and check on her. He saw her move back a little nervous. He didn't want to scare her only thinks. "Hey, I w..won't hurt you. I'm sorry if I scared you." he said to her.

"....Y..You didn't..." she mutters but didn't look at him. Joshua saw she really was scared but how could someone like her be dangerous too. She looked so innocent.

"...S..so this deal. W..what is it?" she asked but Joshua sits in a chair in front of her cell bed but made sure not to scare her or get too close unless asked.

"My deal is t..this: You can help me with keeping the inmates here calm. I read your able to get the most d..dangerous people under your herem and control. You can keep t..them calm without causing fighting or anything. S..so here is my deal: You help me with keeping them calm and keep them from fighting and..m...maybe help with your medicine. You seem to know what your doing with the plants you grow."

"........"

"So if you do that...I can hear what you want in return?" he said but this got Ashley to think a little while looking down at her lap. He seriously would do this for her? Given some thought, she only looks more nervous.

"..Ashley?"

"H..How do I know your not going to t..trick me to do what you w..want?" she asked that Joshua blinks but looked worried.

"I won't..I'm not that type of Warden. I wanna keep peace in my prison even after the last few riots, fights, and other destructive things happened. I just want it to be kept under control. If your able to help me, I promise I'll give you something in return."

".....A...anything in return?" she said seeing him nod. Now she was thinking to look down. "W...would be alright if I can get a n..new blanket? A warm soft one since It helps me sleep?" she said.

"Okay, I can do that. Anything else?"

"C..can I also......have something else that will help with my cravings? You know what I am so.....so...can't I have at least one prison to feed off from?"

"........I can't give you that request, miss Butterfly. I did say I don't want any of the prisoners trying to cause something else." he said seeing Ashley looking down. "But.....maybe I can still give you someone."

"...Y..You can? W..who?" she said only for Joshua to look at her.

"I'll let you feed off from me."

"!?" Wait, him!? He was going to offer himself? "Y..You? Your willing t..to do that?"

"Yes.....If you keep your word, I'll feed you whatever you need. I know you need more than human food at times so......so I'll offer myself to feed you. Is that alright?" he saw her shocked but no one would willingly do that. Knowing her power and hunger it was shocking to hear this. Looking at him, she only sees him look at her but she looks back.

"......So...d...do we have a deal?" he asked holding his hand to her gently but Ashley looks only to slowly reach out a hand to rest it on him.

"..W...we have a d..deal.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was a while back when he made that deal but as promised she kept her word. Keeping the inmates calm and since then no more fights has happened. But as promised, he would let her feed off of him but she did give him some herb teas using her demonic plants to help with his energy and give back what she took.

Looking quiet, she did get fed from him this morning but it was a lot more sweeter today. This made her lightly blush touching her lips to curl up hugging herself in the blanket he had made for her.

".........."

~~~~~Back at Prison T~~~~~~

"What the fuck do you say!?" The inmate that challenged the three ladies only got back talked by Kali who was really annoyed now. A few of the inmates were knocked out after being punched by Jinx and Ink since some tried to start a fight. And after Kali giving a sucker punch to one when he tried to grope her.

"Look, we told you a thousand times we are not going through with your stupid fighting challenge. Can't you idiots behave for once in prison!?" Kali was not in the mood for this right now seeing the leader's eye twitching annoyed.

"She's got a point though. Fighting isn't allowed on the prison yard. How about just doing some fun activities instead huh?" Jinx smiled at him.

"Yeah! I agree!" Ink smiled.

"Seriously? -_-"

"Yep!"

"You two.." Kali warns only for the inmate leader to growl thinking these women were making fun of him! He was one of the dangerous and toughest inmates here! If anything, these three women should be praising him!

Of course the Six claws saw this and seeing how this leader was speaking to her didn't sit right with them. In fact, they looked coldly at the leader wondering what the bastard will do. Even Denji was growling wanting to cut him up but Midoiriya held the other claws back.

Megumi was seeing this but saw Yuji now looking cold seeing this ape speaking to Violent like that. He crushes the can in his hand making Kisho tense.

"Easy Yuji..." Megumi warns but he was seeing him trying to calm down.

"Tch, You three are nothing you know that! Just because you proved a point here in the prison don't mean shit! What I see you three as are sluts for me! I should be the one making you three praise me for being the best in MY prison!" he laughed.

"Huh? But you don't own this prison. Warden Kinie ger does-"

"WHO CARES ABOUT THAT BITCH!! The only reason things get crazy is due to how many wild inmates come here! Don't you know that!" he said now looking to Ink but he saw her confused only to smile.

"Though, Maybe I can forgive you and your two friends if your willing to help us out with something?" he asked even daring to touch Ink's cheek. She blinks feeling him cup her cheek. This got the Six claws more angry but Midoiriya keeps them down.

"Midoriya.." Rin warns.

"...Easy now....they can handle this. You saw how they fight.....this is just going to be a show....." he said in a quiet tone but his green eyes were shooting daggers at this giant brute. How dare he touch her but he knew Yuji was even more angry now.

"So..what do you three say? Wanna rule by my side or maybe you can help me with some personal service?" he said.

"Uhhhhhh Not really. You really don't seem like my type and you can't get girls like that. Woman don't like doo doo heads like you when it comes to trying to hit on them like that. You make it sound like it's a bad thing." Ink said as the inmate tense hearing that.

"W..what!?"

A few snorts hearing that trying not to laugh as Kali sighed and Jinx giggled. He saw his group snickering but he growls at them. "Shut it you idiots!" he said seeing them hush up. "Look here you fucking whore, I will not be insulted like that so you better say sorry to me for that!"

"Yeah, she's not going to do that. Now I suggest you back off and leave her alone. Your starting to get annoying now. Or else you'll regret it." Kali said now annoyed but saw more of the inmates surrounding the three.

"Oh? And what are you three going to do? Huh?! Your just three women.....you should be under me and begging for me to make you my women! My bitches! Or better! My bed sluts! You should know better than to talk back to me!" he said.

Wait did this asshole calm them sluts!? Yuji did not like anyone insulting what was his like that. Even Denji was furious with this asshole saying that. Another didn't like that either in his cell but thanks to a little imp he heard and saw this.

"Tch, you bitches should know better. All women love to have a strong guy like me to fuck em and make them mine! So you should learn your place!" about to backhand Kali but as he tried, a hand stops him as he looks.

The cap Kali had on covered the upper part of her face but a angry glare was seen as she stopped his hand. He felt her grip his wrists while seeing her looking very pissed off. Her grip was deadly strong that he winces to be brought down to his knees like she was going to break it. What the hell!?

"Clearly you don't know shit do you? This is not a fighting ground and you should learn some respect when it comes to speaking to me and the other two officers. Unless you want me to take this hand I can by cutting it off I will..I tend to hold a pretty violent temper.." she snarled as his inmates backed up scared seeing this.

Seems he didn't know who stopped the fight that day due to being in detention. He had no idea what these three women were like. Dangerous. Deadly. And ready to strike if possible.

"D..damn you..b..bitches! Guys, do something!" he said as the inmates looks seeing Kali glare at them as a warning. Right away, a few tried to stop and get Kali to let go of him but they got kicked back hard right through the wall. Others tried to jump them but Jinx kicks and punched a few back hard.

Ink kicks some back right through the building. Others were watching in a nervous expression or some being scared. Just what was going on?!? These women were not normal!

"O.O;" The inmates slowly turns to look back seeing Officer Vanguard and Officer Violet were the ones that kicked the two but their expression were dark as their eyes were dulled scaring them.

"!?!" they sweatdrop scared seeing this. It was like a giant dragon was growling at them and a dangerous growling panther was ready to pounce. Tear them limb from limb.

Yeah, they backed up seeing this and some even wet themselves. When Kali saw the last one knocked out, she looks to the inmates.

"Now..does anyone else wish to start a fucking fight right now!? Or wanna end up like those idiots!" Kali shouted seeing the inmates now scared backing up. These three were insane!!!!

Jinx and Ink sighed but lowers their legs before looking seeing Kali look at him.

"Let me go! You made you stupid point you bitch! Just let me go!"

"Oh no, your going to be punished for this! Take this baboon inside to the isolation cell." she said seeing two officers taking him inside while the others that was his gang went off or was taken in as punishment too. The six claws and Yuji with his friends were silent seeing this. Yeah, those three were dangerous just like Kinie said.

At that same time...

"What the fuck is going on!?" The three women blinks hearing Kinie ger's voice. She just showed up but looks. "What happened!?"

"Nothing much, just one of the inmates causing a rucus!" Ink said smiling.

".......Ughhhh......you know what? Nevermind. Just...just try to keep it calm please. As for you inamtes, you have a few more minutes before heading back inside for the day!" she said seeing the inmates quiet as Kinie walks back inside.

"I wonder if she's alright. She looked upset about something." Jinx said.

"I'm sure she's alright I hope! Anyway, you guys heard that! Just a few more minutes!" Ink cheers happily with Kali facepalming shaking her head. What is with her happy attitude!? Near by, a imp was seeing this to know Rex saw.

He didn't like the fact someone tired to hit or touch Kali but he smirked knowing she can take care of herself. Even with someone so beautiful can be just as dangerous. He loved that in a woman but it tells he really wanted her to be his now. For now, seems he can't wait till their next meet up.

~~~~~~~~~Meanwhile in Northen State Penitentiary~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright everyone, time for lunch! Come out in a orderly fashion and don't try anything." Charley shouted seeing some of the inmates now leaving the cells and going about to eating some food. She along with Jason was seeing everyone in the female ward eating now. He sees Wong. Shea. Pratt. and Flowers eating quietly with the other female inmates. However, he was told that Inmate Akutagawa was still in her own cell as punishment for now. He was told she would get food as well but away from the others to stop any fights from happening.

".........."

"Do you think these maggots are going to behave this time?" Charlie asked Jason who sighed seeing the other officers holding batons in their hands.

"Don't know. Honestly, these women are pretty dangerous but could also start something resulting in another fight. Remember last year?" he said hearing Charlie sigh. Oh right, the blood accident that had some inmates killed. That was not fun to clean up.

"Don't remind me. Second, how was Akutagawa? Did you check on her?" she asked.

"I did..Still in her isolated cell but she should be eating though." He said.

"Hmmm..."

"I will be sure to check on her when I can."

~~~In Area E~~~~

"So that's what's up huh? Hmmm, I felt like more of these inmates were not as busy but hey, you guys know better right?" Matt smiled seeing one inmate knocked out with a broken bloody nose. He tried to start a riot in his area but Matt stopped it. They knew better than to start shit here. Even without sufferer the consequences. He sighed and drops the inmate when two guards goes to pick him up and drag him away leaving a blood trail from his broken nose.

"Anyone have anything to say?" he said seeing the inmates quickly looking back at their lunches eating like good boys. "Thought so." he laughed.

"Hmmm I wonder if Akutagawa ate something or did anyone bring him his food? Might have to check and see later." he said keeping guard.

~~~~IN area A~~~~~~

Willie was standing guard but he already had to stop two idiots from trying to start a fight. And two more from flirting with Officer Shrika. He hated these pigs but they wouldn't be any better. It's something that happens from time to time in this prison but being her trusted officer and partner, he would do anything to insure things ran smoothly. Right now, she was doing roll call to insure the inmates were here before giving lunch.

True, most of them were making eye gesters seeing how hot Shrika was only to get scared seeing Willie showing a murder expression to them. They stopped as she was done. "Alright, that's everyone. You boys can enjoy your lunch. Just behave yourselves now." she said holding the clipboard.

They said nothing going to do that with her sighing smiling. "Such obedient boys don't you agree Officer Watts?" she said.

"Indeed they are miss. Though..they seem to be more like horny dogs than anything." he grumbled angry but Shrika looks to smile, petting his shoulder.

"Now now, I know but they know better. Besides, it's nothing new. If they know what's good for them and I know they will behave..if not...that just makes it more fun to punish them later." she smiled but turns to keep a eye on the inmates with Willie beside her.

~~~~~~In area F~~~~~~~~

Sid was checking up some notes on the new inmates right now but she was seeing that most were eating lunch. Even Chuya who was still in his own cell right now. She was told the three that started something were kept away from the others till being released later on this afternoon. Or till they cool their heads. She already heard Inmate Chuya was shouting and cusing wanting to get out but knowing him he just caused more issues to happen. She shook her head knowing this was going to be something for her.

Even with Warden Osamu giggling like a school girl for the new adventures that will happen with the new inmates. What fun! Knowing this, a sweatdrop shows on the side of Sid's head feeling this was going to be something.

~~~~Meanwhile with Fin's prison~~~~~~

He was lost in his thoughts wondering what Kinie was thinking. Releasing those fallen maidens seems like a bad idea. Given they were dangerous just like Rex he was unsure on how to feel about this. The only one that can control those women were Rex and he's still in his own prison.

What would he even do? What could he do? Thinking about it, he might have to work on some plan or maybe speak to her. No, that would be risky but judging on how Winter was, she was the second in command so...maybe he can talk to her.

Standing up, he goes to leave the office to see her. Ahemd said nothing but wonders what was wrong. "Fin-"

"I need to speak to her. Ahemd, you do the same for Summer."

"Hmm? Why? Do you have a plan?"

"In a way...I'll speak to Winter first but I need to be sure she won't try to get out of here." he said but Ahemd sees him leave that the other remains quiet. What was his plan. Fin walks through the prison halls wondering what he will do but in the meantime the walk wasn't long.

He got to the prison cells again only to see that it still was quiet. He takes a slow breath but looks seeing her again. Winter was stretching while running her fingers through her hair. She only looked relaxed then Fin steps in signaling he was here. She didn't turn around only to lower her arms.

"Well, well, well.....seems I got a visitor.." she slowly turns around to look at him but he sees her eyes glowing within her cell to look at him through the cell.

".......Don't start with me Winter..." he warns only for her to giggle leaning against the cell bar doors to look at him. She was wearing a shirt with the prison pants but she only looks having some of her hair covering one eye to smile.

"Awwwww you don't wanna have fun with me today Warden? That's not nice. I was wondering when you would be back to play with me. Or did our last game scare you off..." she purred only for him to glare at her.

"Stop that! I...*sighs* Look, I came to talk........"

"Talk? Talk about what hmm? Did you miss me that much?" she asked reaching to rest one hand on his chest but he grabs her wrist to stop her.

"Just fucking listen to me. Stop with the flirting.."

"Who says I was flirting?" she teased to look up at him since she was on her knees to smile. "You seem a bit tense though Warden. Did you want me to keep you company?" she said to slowly lower her hand that he then grabs her other wrist to look down at her.

"Enough Already!" he said.

".........."

"Just.....I know you are a crazy minded female but whatever your trying to pull. I won't fall for it!" he said but she only smiled to look at him before she leans in to look at him. Their eyes meeting again.

"You say the meanest things warden Reer...I did say I would behave you just don't trust me. I can be a good girl...for a strong scary lycan like you. I say that..didn't I?" she said seeing him quiet.

"....."

"Besides, if you say that about me.." Suddenly, she leans in closer that their lips almost touched like she was going to kiss him again. "Then why visit me? You either want to talk to me.........or you want something else hmm?" she licked his bottom lip that he tenses to let her go but she was quick to pull him in close then suddenly kiss him on the lips. His eyes widen from the feeling once more of her soft lips as he feels her making out with Fin. He was trying to push her off but she had a good grip of his uniform while feeling her slip her tongue past his lips deepening the kiss.

In a moment, he breaks it to move back panting heavily while covering his lips but Winter only smiled to slowly lick her lips giggling. "D..damn it!"

"...Tasty. You really are fun to tease.." she said. "I can imagine my friend Summer having fun teasing your other officer too." she winks but looks to Fin. "But..if you want another one I could give you more..if you let me out~" she sings but Fin growls.

"ENOUGH ALREADY! Just stop it alright!" he said.

"Heh..you want me to stop.." she said but looks to him to smile. "Then make me."

Fin said nothing to close his hand in a fist then turn to leave the area. Winter sees him go again but she smiled. AT least she gave him a present to remember her by. For him, he was blushing red but trying to think.

'Damn it, I need to do something or she'll end up corrupting me. I can't be tempted! I won't!' he said walking off. In that time, Officer Jackal noticed him coming.

"Uhhh Hey Fin, good to-" He tries to talk but saw him walk by him and Officer Brooks who blinks worried.

"Fin?"

"Sorry Jaron I'm..I'm a bit busy but I'll talk to ya later!" he said waving a hand as he leaves but this confused Melinda and Jaron.

"...I wonder what that was about." she said worried.

"I Don't know..I hope he's alright though." he said seeing him leave. However, the two didn't know this with other inmates looking at them again as the other officers. They just go about keeping guard for now. As Fin gets to his office, he goes to cover his face with his hands trying to calm down. Damn her, she got another kiss again! Trying to calm his mind, he only looks to glare at his hands.

What was she trying to gain here? For now he'll just have to hope Ahemd won't fall for Summer's seduction. Or the other two who had her teammates.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

BFB (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of fire, burns and shoulder dislocation

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Jason doesn’t want to be seen as your best friend’s brother anymore. Jason Todd yearns for 7k words

A/N: Again I feel like this played out better in my head honestly but oh well, it is what it is

10 years ago Jason Todd aged 14 (Y/N) (L/N) aged 16

The sound of thundering feet down the hallway was a common sound ever since the Wayne household had welcomed a new child. You, nor your best friend Dick, were the slightest bit disturbed when Jason slammed open the door to the family room and stormed in.

"You ate my Cheetos!" He cried to his older brother, ruddy face screwed up like he had just eaten a sour grape.

You chuckled under your breath, looking back down at your book that rested against Dick's legs that had been thrown in your lap. Jason glared at the offensive limbs like they were a parasite.

"Sorry, baby bird. (Y/N) here really wanted some Cheetos." Dick replied, hands gross and covered in orange dust. You scoffed, smacking his knee and he gave you an impish grin while looking over his phone.

Jason paused, his face reddening as he caught a glance at you. You offered him a lopsided smile, effortlessly covering for his pig of a brother.

“Sorry, Jace, I was hungry.”

He looked down, bashfully playing with the hem of his sweater, "It's okay."

You smacked his brother again when you felt his body shake with thinly veiled laughter. He had no problem abusing the knowledge that his younger brother had a childish crush on you. The poor thing had already lost most of his snack stash because of him.

"Thanks, kiddo."

Jason shot you a dirty look, “Don’t call me a kid. We’re not that far apart in age, you know.”

You raised a brow, “You’re a freshman, and I’m a senior.”

“That’s just because I joined a year late!” He argued, indignant.

Holding up your hands in a mock ‘I surrender’ motion, you glanced back at your book, but not before shooting a final warning look at his older brother.

“Whatever you say, kiddo.”

***

Present Day Jason Todd aged 24 (Y/N) (L/N) aged 26

"Sorry, B. I can't make it tomorrow, I promised (Y/N) that I'd help her build some furniture."

Jason perked up, practically shooting up straight at the sound of your name, "(Y/N)? She still around? What's she up to these days?"

He hoped—prayed—that his voice didn’t sound as elated to them as it did to him.

The two of you had lost touch after you graduated high school. Dick had moved to Blüdhaven, and you’d been accepted to university in Central City. Without your best friend in Gotham, there hadn’t been much reason for you to visit Wayne Manor.

It had stung. Jason knew you’d always had a closer relationship with his older brother, but he’d thought—hoped—that you liked him enough to at least give him a call on the odd weekend.

He’d get the occasional holiday text from you, wishing him well, and sometimes he’d text you for advice about school. But that was it.

When Jason had come back from the Lazarus Pit, he’d spent countless nights wondering what had happened to you. You would’ve been twenty-six by then. He imagined you’d graduated grad school and become a scientist, probably living in a cute apartment you’d been so excited to decorate—walls lined with bookshelves, couches draped in cozy throws you’d thrifted or maybe even crocheted yourself.

He wondered if you’d grown any taller, if you still dressed like a tomboy, or if you’d traded that style for something softer, something different. He wondered if you’d finally gotten a cat, since you’d wanted one so badly growing up.

But things between him and Batman were still tense, there was still a lot of hurt left on his part, a lot of stuff to work through. He wasn't good enough for you before; he was too young, too brash, too immature.

Now, he was too broken, too damaged; still not worthy of you.

So, he was left wondering.

"Yeah...she's back in the city, she's been working as a junior researcher in Gotham S.T.A.R. Labs."

Jason nodded, nonchalantly, looking down at the home screen of his phone like there was something interesting that happened to capture his attention, "Oh, that's good."

Dick raised a brow, clearly catching onto Jason's very poor attempts to appear unbothered, "And she still thinks you're dead."

He didn't need to see his younger brother's face to know he had frozen. That was quite obvious with the way his shoulders jumped til his ears and he rolled his eyes.

Honestly, how did loverboy manage to overlook that incredibly giant detail?

***

It had been a quiet evening. You were sitting on the couch, curled up with a book in hand and a cup of tea resting beside you, the hum of the city filtering in from the window. You had made peace with Jason's death years ago—taught yourself to move forward, or at least to pretend. The world had kept turning, and so had you.

Your phone buzzed, breaking the silence. It was from Dick.

[1 New Message from Dick]: We need to talk. I’m coming over.

Your heart dropped. You’d known Dick long enough to recognize when something was wrong. His texts were almost always direct or lighthearted, but this—this was different. The sudden dread sinking into your stomach left you feeling nauseous, your pulse quickening.

[You]: What’s going on?

No reply came immediately, making the sick feeling grow. The silence was worse than the text itself. Something was wrong. Your thoughts spun in circles, dread clouding your mind.

The last time you felt like this was when Jason—

There was a knock at the door. You hesitated before opening it, half-expecting the worst.

Dick stood in the doorway, looking disheveled. His eyes were wide, a mix of exhaustion and something darker etched into his features. His foot scuffed the carpet as he stepped inside, pacing immediately, his socks leaving smudges behind on your rug.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to address the storm brewing within him, but you couldn’t find the heart to scold him. He looked too rattled.

"Take a breath, Dickie. Whatever it is, you can tell me." You said softly, trying to soothe him as he walked back and forth.

It wasn’t until a few minutes of pacing that he stopped, shoulders hunched and face tense. He finally turned to you, locking eyes as if bracing himself, "Jason’s alive."

Your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t let the shock show. You stayed eerily calm. You had learned long ago how to keep your composure, especially with Dick, who was always more emotional in moments like this.

"Sit down. Let me make us some tea. You can stay here tonight." You stood, walking to the kitchen, trying to create a sense of normalcy, "We’ll talk about this in the morning, okay? Everything will make sense once you get some rest."

Dick stared at you, disbelief clear in his eyes, "What? That's your response?"

You kept your back turned to him, calmly preparing the kettle. "Honey," You called back, voice low and steady, "this isn’t the first time you’ve said you’ve seen Jason. Remember?" You turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed in concern. You couldn’t help it; this wasn’t the first time Dick had experienced hallucinations. When Jason died, Dick’s grief had twisted his mind in ways you knew all too well.

"No, (Y/N), I’m being serious. This is real," Dick said, his voice firm, steady.

You rubbed his shoulder gently, trying to soothe him, though you could feel the tension in his body. "I’m sure it feels that way," you replied, not fully buying into what he was saying. You had seen him go through so much grief, and the idea of Jason being alive, after everything that had happened, felt like an impossible fantasy.

"No, (Y/N), I’m serious. We can dig up his grave right now. He’s alive, and he’s here." Dick continued, his tone unwavering. He was no longer the conflicted man you had known during the years of Jason’s death. This wasn’t a joke or another hallucination. Dick was calm, composed, and absolutely certain of what he was saying.

You frowned, the disbelief still hanging in the air, "That isn’t funny, Dick."

He sighed, "You're right, I'm sorry but Jason really is back. I’ve seen him. He’s part of the family again. We’ve all met him, and he’s doing okay. I know it sounds crazy, but he’s here. And he’s with us."

The words hung in the air, your mind racing to catch up with the gravity of what Dick was saying.

“How—how is that even possible?” You asked, your voice trembling slightly as your mind struggled to make sense of the words.

“It’s a long story,” Dick replied with a quiet sigh. He looked at you seriously, “Listen, I just wanted to let you know this way because I care about you. He asked about you recently, so I figured it would be a good time to let you know.”

You frowned, trying to absorb the flood of emotions and information that seemed to hit you all at once, “How long have you known?”

“A couple of months,” Dick said, his tone more subdued now, “He wasn’t too happy with us when he first came back... not when he found out the Joker was still alive.”

Your stomach tightened, a knot of unease twisting in your gut. You had seen firsthand the kind of damage the Joker and the events surrounding Jason’s death had done to the family. You could never forget the way it had all shattered Dick, how broken he was in the aftermath.

"But we've made amends in the past month. He’s back where he belongs."

You nodded slowly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you, “And you're for sure not hallucinating this?"

Dick gave you a sharp look, “I can’t blame you for wondering, but no. This is real. You can meet him, if you want.”

Your throat tightened. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to see Jason. But the overwhelming weight of everything—the shock, the grief that you had buried long ago, and the strange sense of unfamiliarity now attached to his return—left you struggling for words. Was he still the same person you knew? “I do want to… I just… I need some time. I think I need to wrap my head around this. It’s not every day that you find out someone came back to life.”

Truthfully, Jason’s death hadn’t affected your daily life as much as you expected. After moving for college, you didn’t see him much, and the memories of him didn’t cross your mind as often as they once had. Yes, in the months following his death, you’d had to take care of Dick—making sure he wasn’t running himself into the ground—but that had always been your role as his best friend.

But there was something about Jason that left a lingering hole in your life. Something unexpected. Jason had been such a bright, sweet soul—too young, too full of life. You'd imagined your future in Gotham, with your parents, and your best friend, and in that little corner, Jason’s glowing face would always be there. You couldn't picture him growing taller than you, still that fresh-faced sweet boy from the Narrows. Always there.

And then he wasn’t. And that absence—it left a space you hadn’t expected to feel.

The loss had settled in quietly, like a low hum beneath everything you did. There were nights where it kept you awake, wondering how scared he must have been in his final moments, wondering if he had known he was being taken from this world far too soon. The fact that he was gone had been a sharp, permanent reality, one you had learned to live with—but now, knowing that he was back... it was almost too much to take in.

Dick nodded, his expression softening, “I know. It’s a lot. But he’s here, and he’s trying to make things right. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

***

A lot had changed.

The last time you saw him, he was shorter than you, all sharp edges and boyish energy, always talking too fast and trying to keep up with Dick. Now he was taller, broader, a man where a boy used to be. The once roundness of his face had sharpened into defined angles, his voice deeper than you remembered.

And his eyes—God, his eyes.

There was something older in them now, something jaded and unspoken. You had heard the stories, whispered half-truths that nobody wanted to confirm. You had no idea how much of it was real, but the Jason Todd standing in front of you was not the same boy you remembered.

Still, none of that stopped you from grinning as you stepped forward.

"Jaybird!"

His breath hitched.

You didn’t notice.

You threw your arms around his neck, the way you used to when he was a kid, laughing as you pulled him into a tight hug. You didn't know whether he hugged you back, you couldn't really feel it, only feeling pins and needles run down the length of your body.

You didn’t really care if he hugged you back. All you felt was awe and bewilderment, and underneath it all, sheer and utter joy at the fact that he was here.

"Damn," You laughed, pulling away just enough to hold him at arm’s length, "When did you get so tall? And jacked? Holy crap, Jay, you could bench press me."

Jason let out something between a scoff and a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, "Maybe I should, just to prove a point."

"Please don’t. That’s so undignified." You poked at his bicep, grinning but there was a mist to your eyes that neither of you were going to address, a red tint to the tip of your nose, "My scrawny little brother, all grown up and scary-looking."

His smile twitched. Something flickered in his expression—too quick for you to catch—before he shook his head, rolling his eyes, "You’re impossible."

"As always," You smirked, nudging his ribs playfully before stepping back, "It’s so good to see you, Jason. I mean it."

You didn’t notice the way he swallowed hard. Didn’t see the way his fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted to pull you back before you got too far away.

Instead, you shot him a bright smile, completely oblivious to the way his heart ached.

You still saw him as that kid trailing after Dick. The reckless, stubborn little brother. Ten years, and he was still trailing after you like a lost puppy. Still, longing for your attention.

Jason clenched his jaw, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he exhaled slowly.

"Yeah," he muttered, voice softer now. "Good to see you too, (Y/N)."

***

Even though you should have been the one to notice the big, burly man stepping into the dainty little coffee shop, you didn’t.

Jason did.

He spotted you first—tucked away in the corner, bathed in golden sunlight as you read, a delicate hand curled around a warm cup of tea. You looked so peaceful, completely unaware of him. Maybe you had caught a glimpse of him in your peripheral, but it hadn’t registered. After all, it hadn’t been that long since you’d seen him again.

He almost hesitated.

He almost continued his visit like he hadn’t even noticed you, but despite everything he’d been through—despite the fact that he was a grown man now—he still found himself feeling like his teenage self, craving your attention whenever you were in the room.

"(Y/N)?"

Your head snapped up, eyes darting around to locate the voice—until they landed on him.

The way your expression changed made his heart stutter.

First, confusion. Then, slow realization. And finally—joy.

A sunny grin broke across your face before you could stop it. Without a second thought, you launched yourself at him, tackling him in a hug that had nearby patrons stepping aside awkwardly.

"Jason!"

He stumbled back a few steps, caught entirely off guard. His arms hovered uncertainly over your waist, but before he could settle them on your hips, you pulled away just as quickly—smoothing out his jacket as if brushing off imaginary dust before cupping his face, taking in his utterly bewildered expression.

That same expression that his younger self shared. It made your heart swell.

You were like a hurricane blowing through him.

He knew you were extroverted and energetic—he had seen it in your expressions and interactions with his brother while growing up. But this was the first time your affection had ever been directed at him.

"Sorry! Haha! I'm still not used to seeing you alive and all—guess I got too excited!" You laughed, a little breathless, your thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones, "How are you? Do you wanna sit down and catch up?"

Jason blinked, something unreadable flickering across his face before the corner of his mouth twitched up.

"Yeah," he said, voice softer than you expected, "Yeah, I’d like that."

And before he knew it, he was in the eye of the storm, caught in the calm, in you.

***

Jason leaned against his motorcycle, arms crossed, watching the entrance of your workplace with a kind of nervous energy he hadn’t felt in years. He had sent the invite on a whim—just a casual “Hey, it’s been a while. Wanna grab a coffee?”—but now that he was actually here, waiting, he was starting to regret it.

The automatic doors of the laboratory building slid open, and there you were, stepping out onto the sidewalk, scanning the street.

Jason felt like he’d been punched in the chest.

He swallowed hard.

“Jaybird,” You greeted, pulling him into a tight hug, “Been a while.”

Jason let himself sink into it for half a second before forcing himself to let go, “Yeah, well. You’re hard to pin down these days.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, please. You’re the one always disappearing. You’re worse than Dick.”

Jason smirked, “Low blow.”

You looped an arm around his, tugging him toward the sidewalk, “C’mon, walk with me. I wanna hear what you’ve been up to.”

He let himself be pulled along, shaking his head, “What I’ve been up to? You’re the one always buried in the lab.”

You groaned, “Don’t remind me. I swear, one of these days, I’m just gonna quit and run away to a beach somewhere.”

Jason laughed, nudging your shoulder, “Yeah? You’d last, what, a week before you got bored?”

You pouted, “Okay, rude. But true.”

He watched you talk, listened to you ramble about work, about a bad coffee you’d had the other day, about a stray cat that kept showing up outside your apartment. He nodded in the right places, chimed in with sarcastic comments, but mostly, he just took in the way you looked at him.

The way you looked at him like nothing had changed.

Like he was still the same Jason you’d always known.

Like you had no idea how much he wasn’t.

You sighed, bumping into his side, “I missed you, y’know?”

His heart fluttered, a jolt of electricity running through it in a way that made him feel giddy, “You did?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s so great that we can just pick up where we left off, no awkwardness or anything. I guess that’s the good thing about family, huh?”

He froze for a fraction of a second at the word family. It took everything in him not to flinch. He forced a smile, trying to keep his cool.

“Yeah... I guess that’s the good thing, huh?” He pushed the words out, though they tasted bitter on his tongue.

You glanced up at him, offering a grin that made his heart ache. “Exactly.” You said, as if that word was enough to sum up everything. No hesitation, no second thoughts. Just family.

Jason walked beside you, his hands in his jacket pockets, fingers curling into fists. The sharp edge of his feelings threatened to spill over, but he kept them at bay. He wasn’t going to ruin this. Not when he finally had a chance to talk to you again after so long.

You kept chatting, unaware of the quiet storm brewing inside him. You told him about a new research project you were working on and your latest failed attempt at cooking. His responses were automatic—smiles, laughs, and the occasional comment—but his mind was elsewhere, caught in the web of thoughts he couldn’t untangle.

It was so easy for you to slip back into the role of the confident, carefree person you always were around him. And here he was, still stuck in the same old cycle of longing. Family. That was all he would ever be to you. Just family.

But what if it wasn’t enough anymore?

As you continued to walk, your voice light and carefree, Jason couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever get the courage to tell you how he felt. Would it even change anything? Or would it ruin everything, forever locking him into the “family” role he had never wanted to begin with?

You bumped into him again, snapping him out of his thoughts, “Hey, Jay, I’ve been thinking—I do these little arcade runs with Timmy and Dami once a month, you know, like a brotherly-sisterly bonding activity.”

Jason’s chest tightened. He knew. You, Dick, and he used to do that all the time ten years ago. It left a bittersweet feeling in his chest.

“You should join us sometime. You know, like old times.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

***

When Jason saw the amber-orange glow of the building from afar, his heart dropped. Without hesitation, he signaled the remaining members of the Bat Family before sprinting toward it. He didn’t like the path he was taking. He didn’t like where it was leading.

It almost seemed like he was heading toward—

No.

Jason came face to face with the burning S.T.A.R. Labs building.

Even through his fireproof armor, he could feel the searing heat radiating from the inferno. He watched as waves of people poured out, coughing, screaming, their faces twisted in pain and panic. His eyes scanned over them, searching.

None of them were you.

Without a second thought, he moved toward the building.

His comms buzzed to life.

"Red Hood, do not engage! You don’t have a plan!" Batman’s voice was firm, commanding.

"(Y/N) is in there!" Jason snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. Then, he braved the flames.

He pushed through the burning hallways, doing whatever he could to help those in his path—clearing exits, carrying the wounded—until he reached the deeper levels of the lab. His lungs burned with the smoke, but he kept moving.

And then he heard it.

A bloodcurdling shriek.

Your shriek.

Jason sprinted toward the sound, shoving open what remained of your office door. The sight that greeted him made his stomach lurch—

You were trapped beneath a flaming bookshelf.

Soot covered your skin, your body trembling as you fought to free yourself. Your clothes were scorched, and judging by the way you were barely moving, you had sustained multiple burns. Panic filled your eyes.

Jason didn’t hesitate.

He threw the bookshelf off you, scooping you into his arms and holding you close as he ran out. You couldn’t think straight. The blinding pain in your shoulder overtook every other thought.

"You're gonna be okay. I'm gonna reset your shoulder." Jason murmured. The deep baritone of his gravelly voice had your panic subsiding by a fraction. He didn't sound worried, which meant you were going to be fine. Probably.

"Are you sure you know how to do that?" You really shouldn't have to ask that. Jason would never suggest it if he thought he might do more harm than good. You trusted him.

"Yeah, I've got you, baby. Trust me."

You inhaled sharply, pressing your bloody forehead to his and screwing your eyes shut. Jason watched as a fresh wave of tears poured down your cheeks and his stomach hollowed out at the sight of you in pain. You were trembling, chest shaking as you tried to contain your sobs.

"I do."

He rubbed a hand up and down your waist, trying to comfort you briefly before he grabbed your injured arm with both his hands. You took a shaky breath, trying to stifle another sob.

“You might want to hold onto something, doll—holy sh—!”

He was rudely cut off as your free hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, keeping his forehead pressed against yours—your only source of comfort.

In hindsight, you weren’t sure what logic had driven you to grab his hair. Perhaps you wanted him to feel as much pain as you were in—or as much pain as you knew he was about to put you through. Or maybe you just wanted to anchor him to you, to keep him close so you could draw comfort from his presence.

"Ready?"

You weren’t ready—but you sniffled and nodded anyway, hearing him count down from three. The next thing you heard was a crack, followed by the sound of your own scream as you clung to Jason’s hair, gripping so tightly you were afraid you’d tear out those perfect strands.

Jason pressed gentle kisses to the side of your head as you sobbed, his voice low and soothing. He told you how proud he was, that it was all over now, as he worked quickly to tie a tourniquet.

When everything was done, you collapsed against his chest, going limp in his arms as he carried you out of the building. You were handed off to a paramedic and gently placed on a gurney.

With bleary eyes, you watched him run back into the building, your consciousness slipping away before you could call out to stop him.

***

The steady beeping of the monitors was the first thing you heard when you groggily blinked awake. The second thing was the sound of someone muttering under their breath, followed by the unmistakable rustling of fabric.

You turned your head—slowly, because everything hurt—and found Jason slumped in the chair beside your bed, arms crossed, looking deeply unimpressed. His jacket was draped over the armrest, his boots scuffed, the soles stained with char.

“Hey, doll.” Jason greeted, his voice softer than usual.

You gave him a sleepy smile, “Hey, hero.”

He looked… tired. The kind of tired that wasn’t just from lack of sleep, but from worry. His hair was messier than usual, like he’d been running his hands through it all night. His jacket still smelled faintly of smoke.

“How long have you been here?” You asked.

Jason shrugged, leaning forward so his forearms rested on the bedrail, "Not long." But you both knew he was lying.

Your heart clenched, warmth curling in your chest, “You didn’t have to stay.”

Jason’s gaze flicked to yours, unreadable for a moment, “Yeah, I did.”

Your breath caught slightly. He didn’t elaborate—he didn’t need to.

You swallowed, looking down at where your hand rested against the blanket. You hesitated, then shifted it slightly, palm up, an invitation. Jason hesitated too, just for a second, before lacing his fingers with yours.

His grip was warm, steady. He didn’t squeeze too tight, mindful of your injuries, but he didn’t let go, either.

There was something unspoken between the two of you, something different now. Neither of you could quite place it—maybe it was the quiet familiarity of being here together, or maybe it was the way his hand fit into yours, a little more firmly than before. But you both knew something had shifted. It hung in the air, thick and heavy, but neither of you dared to speak of it.

“You scared the hell outta me,” He admitted, voice rougher now, quieter.

“I’m okay.” You squeezed his hand, reassuring, “Thanks to you.”

Jason scoffed, but there was no bite to it, “Yeah, no thanks to your dumbass trying to save your research instead of yourself. Next time, leave the dangerous work to the big boys?”

You rolled your eyes, clearing your throat, “Next time, try not making me scream so hard when you reset my shoulder. I think I burst a blood vessel.”

Jason smirked, rubbing his thumb absently over your knuckles, “I can make you scream plenty other ways, baby.”

Your scoffed at this, rolling your eyes but choosing not to respond. Stupid bastard, pretending like he was all suave when you both knew underneath it all, Jason Todd was an unapologetic romantic.

You let your fingers tighten around his, anchoring yourself to the warmth of him.

Jason squeezed back, like he understood.

“Get some rest." He murmured, shifting slightly so his arm rested on the mattress, keeping your hands tangled together, “I’ll be here.”

You sighed softly, your body finally relaxing, “Promise?”

Jason leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your hand, “Promise.”

***

Jason climbed through your window with practiced ease and you didn't even flinch as he let himself in, still in his Red Hood get-up. This wasn't the first time he was doing this, nor would it be his last. It had been this way ever since you had been escorted back by him from the hospital.

Jason checked up on you almost every day, making sure you were dressing your burns properly, even redressing the ones on your back. On those nights, when you felt incredibly vulnerable, you knew there was no one you’d feel safer with than Jason.

You merely glanced at him from your spot behind the counter, continuing to slice the cucumber using the mandolin.

The fearsome Red Hood found his way into your kitchen, nudging you out of the way and washing his hands. He ignored your protests, grabbing the mandolin from you and snatching the cucumber, "This thing's sharp."

You rolled your eyes, "I was being careful."

He didn't even take off his domino, only tossing his helmet onto your couch in his rush to help you, "I didn't think you knew how."

You scoffed at this, lightly slapping his shoulder even though you were well aware that you could've put more strength into it and he still would've felt nothing, "Go shower while I heat up dinner you loser."

He laughed, stepping aside and letting you grab the freshly sliced cucumber so you could add the spices to make cucumber salad. He pecked your temple, grabbing the towel you had left warming for him in the dryer before stepping into the shower and washing the grime of Gotham away.

When he emerged from the shower, dressed in the sweats he had left there, you caught a glimpse of his bare chest. Letting out a flustered laugh, you quickly averted your gaze.

“Oh my god, put on a shirt!”

Jason just cackled, completely unbothered, as he rummaged through your dresser drawer. He disappeared for a moment, only to reappear in the kitchen after tossing his wet towel in the washer.

This time, when you looked at him, the laugh that escaped was less flustered and more outright incredulous.

“What on earth are you wearing?”

A baby tee on you was cute—it rode up just enough to show a teasing sliver of skin, something that Jason always found distracting. But on him? It was absolutely ridiculous.

The fabric strained around his biceps like it was fighting for its life, and you were genuinely concerned that if he flexed even a little, the sleeves would burst apart. The hem barely covered his pecs, leaving his abs completely on display. And across his chest, in bold letters, were the words:

“I’m sorry I have great tits.”

You covered your mouth, shaking with laughter, "Of all the shirts I have."

“And? Is it wrong to own my truth?”

You groaned, throwing a dish towel at his face while still giggling, “Take it off.”

“Make me.”

***

When Jason woke up to the sound of you bustling around his apartment, he sat up in bed, hair mussed, and found you rifling through his closet. You held up a formal button-up shirt, tapping your chin in consideration.

He watched you, still groggy, taking in your figure dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxer shorts. You’d stopped by after dinner last night and ended up crashing on his couch, not even stirring when he carried you to bed.

Jason glanced at the clock, “Don’t you— I don’t know— have a job to get to?”

You spared him a glance over your shoulder, “Oh, you’re awake. I figured instead of going all the way back to my place, I’d just borrow something of yours and wear the same jeans from yesterday. I’m in the lab today anyway, so it doesn’t really matter what I have on underneath.”

He hummed, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.

“Left breakfast for you in the microwave, by the way.”

Stepping behind you, he pressed a quick, absentminded kiss to your temple before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When he emerged, you had swapped the button-up for one of his t-shirts, knotting it in the middle so it wouldn’t look so oversized. He smirked at the sight of you checking yourself out in the mirror, tugging at the hem, making sure it didn’t look odd.

“Looks better on you anyway.” He murmured, leaning against the doorframe.

You rolled your eyes but grinned at him through the mirror, “Yeah, yeah. I bet you say that to all the girls stealing your clothes.”

Jason scoffed, stepping closer, “Oh yeah, all the girls. My closet’s just a free-for-all at this point.”

You laughed, swatting at his chest as he loomed behind you. He caught your wrist with ease, fingers curling lightly around it, his touch warm and familiar.

You pouted up at him, flashing your best pleading puppy-dog eyes. He raised an amused brow.

“Give me a ride to work?”

Jason huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he looked down at you, “You’re really pushing your luck, you know that?”

You grinned, tilting your head slightly, “Come on, Jay. I’ll even let you pick the music.”

He narrowed his eyes, “You always let me pick the music.”

“Yeah, but this time, I won’t complain about your broody, ‘I’m a tortured soul’ playlists.”

Jason scoffed, releasing your wrist only to flick your forehead lightly, “First of all, my playlists are not broody—”

“They absolutely are.” You interrupted, smirking.

He ignored you, “Second, you know I’d drive you anyway. You don’t have to beg.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart, “So you like driving me around? I knew it. You’re secretly my personal chauffeur.”

Jason rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at his lips, “Yeah, yeah. Go make me a cup of coffee so I don't fall asleep at the wheel while dropping your lazy ass off.”

You saluted him playfully before bouncing toward the kitchen. Jason lingered for a moment, watching you move around his space so effortlessly, so comfortably. It was dangerous, the way you fit into his life so easily. But even as he tried to shake off the thought, he was already reaching for his keys, knowing damn well he’d drive you anywhere you asked.

***

You shut the door to your apartment only after the elevator doors finally closed, ensuring your friend had left. The lights in your home remained off, and darkness enveloped you as you carefully navigated the room, kicking off your heels.

"Who was that?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin, giving yourself whiplash when you swung around to face the intruder in your apartment—only to sigh in relief when you were met by the familiar hunk of a silhouette.

"You scared the hell out of me, Jason." You grumbled, now having to turn on the lights so you could look for where you had dropped your keys in shock.

"Who was that?" He repeated and this time you picked up on something in his tone. Less inquisitive and more interrogative. You arched a brow at him, dumping the keys into the bowl by the door and placing your handbag onto the kitchen island.

"What's with the attitude?"

Even though you continued to bustle about the apartment, you couldn't help but steal glances of his unmoving figure on the couch. He was never like this, he usually helped you out of your coat, ran the shower, something.

His indifference was making you antsy.

"Damian said he saw you out on a date."

That had you stopping midway of unloading your dishwasher, your reflection in the freshly clean dishes staring back at you with an expression of befuddlement.

'Damian saw me on a date? Me? On a date? When? Where? With who?!'

"What are you even talking about, Jason?" You scoffed, slightly off-put by this sudden turn in behavior. You hadn't been on a date since prehistoric times, it felt like. Jason felt the need to break into your apartment (not technically breaking in considering he had a key), sit in the dark and interrogate you in your own home all because of some baseless accusation that Damian of all people made.

"He said he saw you talking it up with some man at town square today and that you got into his car."

Jason finally stood up, walking over to where you stood in the kitchen and your eyes raked over his figure multiple times. Something about this was just wrong; his stiff posture, the frown on his face, the hard eyes.

"I was attending a conference happening there with a co-worker—we drove up there together."

Jason’s eyes scanned your face, and a flicker of offense sparked in your chest. Did he think you were lying? And even if you were—what business was it of his?

"A co-worker, huh?" He said, his voice tight and laced with something sharp, "How come this is the first I'm hearing of this? Lord knows you'd usually beg me to drive you there."

You frowned, "What is up with you? Why does it matter? You're behaving like a jealous boyfriend, and last I checked, we weren't dating."

That was clearly not the right thing to say, judging by the way Jason’s face stoned over—expression cold and unreadable, yet barely concealing the red-hot fury simmering just beneath the surface.

"Excuse me?" He seethed, stepping closer to you. If it had been anyone else, you would've taken a step back. But this was Jason, and you didn't feel any discomfort when he stepped into your bubble.

"You call me when you're down and need someone to talk to. We literally spend every night together to the point I have a drawer in my dresser for your clothes! (Y/N), you've held me on nights when I can't sleep!" He cried, voice tight with frustration, "If that isn't dating, then what the fuck is this? What the fuck are we?"

He stepped closer, crowding into your space until your back hit the refrigerator with a soft thud. His palms pressed flat against the wall on either side of you, caging you in.

"(Y/N)..." He whispered, leaning in closer. He smelled of artificial ocean in a bottle and sharp menthol, a mix that shouldn’t have been so intoxicating. Heat radiated off him, and suddenly, you felt far too warm.

You were so close to throwing away all your inhibitions until that one feeling—heavy and unshakable—anchored your stomach, dragging you back down.

"Stop."

He did.

You felt him sigh against your lips, a hair away from actually meeting his. He shook his head, "I should've known."

He didn’t look at you once, just left his key on the counter and shut the door behind him. Your back remained pinned to the fridge as the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, each one echoing in time with your pounding heart.

'Go after him. Stop him. Do something.'

And yet, your feet stayed rooted in place.

***

The next time you imagined seeing Jason, it would be at a family event neither of you could find a way out of. You’d steal a longing glance when his back was turned, spending the rest of the night waiting, hoping, that he'd return your gaze.

You never imagined that the next time you’d see him—talk to him—would be in the back alley behind a noisy club. You hadn’t meant for this to happen—really, you hadn’t.

You’d just gotten off a particularly rough shift, and even though all you wanted was to crawl into the quiet of your room and call Jason just to hear his voice, instead, a coworker had convinced you to blow off some steam and grab a drink.

You hadn't expected to see Jason there—especially not with another girl.

“When I said stop, I didn’t mean stop forever and get over me!” You cried out, frustration and overwhelming emotion cracking through your voice. Seeing him with Artemis had unleashed an arsenal of feelings you couldn’t even begin to sort through, and before you knew it, you were picking a fight with him—desperate for his attention to be back on you instead of her.

You were envious of her strong build and long, lustrous hair. You were angry with yourself for resenting her, even though she’d done absolutely nothing wrong. You were hurt because it looked like Jason was having a good time. And most of all, you were confused—why did it upset you so much?

“Would you rather I stay as your little plaything forever? Stringing me along just enough to keep me loving you, hoping for more, only to push me away with some bullshit excuse?”

His face darkened, and your stomach hollowed out. Jason had been frustrated with you many times before; you’d argued until he was red in the face. But he’d never looked at you like this—like he hated you.

You bit your lip, the fight seeping out of you. Because at the end of the day… he was right, wasn’t he? You had been playing with him—stringing him along, showing him glimpses of the most intimate corners of your life, but still expecting him to magically know where you’d drawn the invisible lines of unspoken boundaries.

His jaw hardened, and you dropped your gaze. Jason didn’t deserve this. Inside the club was a beautiful, strong woman who he had every right to show interest in. And you had no right to be upset about it.

“You’re right, Jason. I—I’m sorry for ruining your date. You should get back in there before she thinks you stood her up.”

With your hands pressed to your chest to stop yourself from reaching out for him, you sidestepped his domineering presence and turned to walk away.

“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s it?”

You froze. Turning back, you found him ruffling his hair in frustration, annoyance radiating off him in waves as he stalked closer, stopping just a couple of feet away.

“You don’t get to fucking do that! You don’t get to tell me to stop, then get mad at me for actually doing what you asked. You don’t get to make a scene and not even tell me why!”

That was it.

You closed the distance between you two, clutching the collar of his jacket with trembling fists and yanking him down to you, slanting your lips against his in a rough, desperate kiss.

“That’s why,” You whispered, lowering yourself back onto your heels and letting go of his jacket as you turned to leave—

“Oh no, you’re not.”

Jason’s arm coiled around your hips, pulling you back against him as he crushed his lips to yours once more. You sighed against him, your fingers twisting into his hair, your other hand slipping under his jacket, fisting the fabric of his shirt.

It was everything you had spent months pretending you didn’t want.

And you couldn’t stop.

***

Bonus:

"Hi, honey." You said, voice sweet and saccharine, as you entered the dining room of the manor.

"Hi, pookie." Dick replied, not looking up from his phone, lounging on the couch.

There was a pause, followed by an exaggerated noise of disgust from you, "I could not have been more clearly speaking to my boyfriend." You teased, your tone playful but pointed.

This time, Dick looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow. His expression shifted from confusion to realization as he saw you standing with your hands wrapped around Jason's neck, very clearly leaning in for a kiss to greet him instead.

"Oh, for god's sake." Dick groaned, rolling his eyes, "Ugh, you both are disgusting. You know I used to be her honey?"

Jason raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, "Get used to it, geezer," he quipped, draping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your temple, "She likes younger men."

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@tchatso

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

@that-one-fangirl69

@el-hrts

Requested tags:

@theendofthematerialgworl

@itzmeme

@catharticdesire

@joonunivrs

@mercuryathens

[b3ach-bunn7]

C U GIRL

Bakugo loves his girlfriend

based off this texpost and @laffythefaffy request!

slight nsfw, fluff, prohero!bakugo

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Bakugo didn’t believe in relationships.

Romantic ones, at least. Platonic ones he’d been convinced of, after the relentless nature of his classmates, but Bakugo could safely say that, at the age of twenty five, he had never been in love.

It didn’t depress him. He’d had experiences. He’d kissed and he’d fucked, and it felt good, and still he’d never had a girlfriend. His childhood was a mess of war and pain and death, and so there was no time for it then. And now, his days are filled with patrolling and missions and he doesn’t really have time for it either. Where is he supposed to meet one, anyway? The only time he goes out is when he gets dragged to the annoying 1-A meet-ups at the bar in Nagoya that are always far too loud for his liking. And Bakugo would rather keel over and die before he tried to flirt with someone in front of Denki.

But Bakugo was happy with his life. Content. Enough as a busy hero could be.

And then he met you.

He’d been patrolling that day. Quite possibly the worst part of his job. It’s more for publicity than safety, he thinks. Civilians like seeing a hero walking around and cruising the streets. It makes them feel protected and it makes his agency look good for looking out for the public. All it means for him though, is way too many people asking for interviews and pictures and the waste of a day at work.

And then he’d heard it. A loud crash and screams that echoed down the street and the sudden rush of civilians from the bookshop a small ways away. They scattered like ants and Bakugo pushed through them, breaking into a run.

Something, or someone, had crashed through the front door, glass scattered in sharp jagged pieces on the floor. That seemed to have been the extent of the damage. He ignores the clammer of a crowd behind him and steps inside, eyes scanning the shop for the source of the destruction. And he assumed the poorly dressed man standing in the middle of the place was the cause. It looked like a home-made costume that reminded him of Deku’s first ever costume, and the man wearing it looked just as weak as he had.

Bakugo sighed internally. They get a couple of guys like this every so often. People with too big dreams of fame or villainy or both, and a flashy enough quirk that they think some damage will get their name plastered on the six o’clock news. More often than not, it ends with Bakugo nearly blowing up their face and the next few years in prison.

Balugo kicked a fallen book. The man caught sight of him and stood straighter. It might have been a show of strength but Bakugo saw his hands quiver as he pointed them at the crying civilian next to him.

“Not a step closer, Dynamight! Or I’ll blow her brains out!” He yelled.

Considering the damage to the door and the way he’s wielding his hands like the weapon, Bakugo assumed this was a quirk attack. His eyes darted around to assess the situation. Other than fallen bookcases and the dust of a broken wall, there wasn’t too much damage. The place was pretty small anyway. There were four people in the room, including the villain, and judging by the fact they’re all on their feet he didn’t think they were injured. Even the one being held hostage looks fine, other than the flurry of tears falling down her face. She looks young, and Bakugo scowls.

“Let her go and I won’t have to blow your fucking hands off.” Bakugo demanded.

“No! I-I make the rules here!” It was sad, really. The kid was practically shivering. Definitely not villain material. 

Before Bakugo could do anything, like explode the sad fucker into the nearest juvenile detention centre, there’s a loud thud, and the man crumpled to the floor. Confusion flitted across his face and then he looked up and saw you. 

You, hobbling forward on one ankle, a hard-back dictionary in your hand, breathing heavily. Your clothes were wrinkled and your face flushed, chest heaving as you looked down at the man in front of you. The dictionary dropped to the floor and you cursed.

“Fuck. Did I kill him?” You mumbled, nudging his shoulder with your good foot.

You hadn’t killed him. Just knocked him out, he found after pressing his fingers against the man’s neck. He clicked on a pair of quirk cancelling cuffs and handed him off to the police, who had just arrived. He watched as they started talking to the other victims and he turned his attention to you.

“That was real fucking stupid. Don’t ever get involved in a fight like that.” He snapped.

You pouted. “I got him, though.”

Red eyes flicked down. You were looking worriedly at your ankle, hands holding you up on the counter beside you. He studied your face, the small crease of worry between your eyebrows. You suddenly glanced up at him. You gave him a small smile and he shook his head.

He crouched down, beckoning you with his hand. “Idiot. Show me your ankle.” 

You held your foot up gingerly, and Bakugo pressed his fingers against your bone, touching lighter when you wince slightly. Behind him, he could hear the commotion of paramedics checking on the other civilians, the blare of sirens from outside. Your fingers drum against the counter you're leaning on.

“Don’t think it’s broken. Just fractured.” He said, standing up again.

He saw you squeezing your wrist, stretching it out and wiggling your fingers. He nodded, gesturing at his own wrist.

“You fuck that up too?”

You laughed slightly. “No, I- I think I just hurt it when I smacked him with that book.” You shook it once. “I’ll be fine, though.”

“You got him good though. Nice swing.” 

The little comment surprised even him, and you laughed, out of shock more than anything else, and he allowed a small smile to ghost his own face. 

“Thanks. Your agency need any extra hands?” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Not one as dumb as you.” He drawled and you just grinned back.

He watched you glance behind you at the paramedics and back down at your ankle. You winced, pushing yourself up so that you could start the walk towards them, but he waved you off.

“Hold on.”

In one swift motion, his hands came up under your thighs, the other sweeping behind your back, and he lifted you up with ease. You made a sound of surprise in the back of your throat. Your hands wrapped around his neck and your body was warm against his.

“I’ll get you to the paramedics. They’ll fix you up.” He said.

And you were close enough that when you replied, a soft okay, he felt it rumble against his chest, could feel your fingers curl against the small of his neck. He felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach at your proximity. Not one he’s used to when he’s saving civilians.

He held you tighter as he bent over the door frame, making the disappointingly short journey to the bank of the closest open ambulance. A smiling woman came over and listened as Bakugo relayed your injuries, and you watched in keen interest as she used some healing quirk over your ankle.

Bakugo could’ve left. He should’ve left. He isn’t the type to sit and check up on the victims, he’d usually be back carrying on patrol, but. Bakugo lingered. He watched as the paramedic told you to take it easy for the next few days, and you beamed that smile at her he itched for you to aim at him. She wrapped a bandage around your ankle and you thanked her. And once the paramedic left, and your attention was back on him, he could appreciate you a little more. Outside, in the bright summer sun, your eyes shone, your skin glistening in the light as you rolled your ankle around.

“God. It must be nice to have a quirk that can just fix someone up like that.” You hummed. 

“You don’t got a quirk?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Nah. Don’t really need one when you’re running a book store, though.” 

Bakugo crossed his arms over his chest. He hoped you saw the bulge of his biceps that he definitely wasn’t trying to show off. “Right. You be more fucking careful next time.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the one who needed rescuing, if my dictionary wielding is anything to go by.”

He barked a laugh. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. But don’t worry. I’ll forgive you once you help me fix the store.” 

It was Bakugo’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “And who said I’m fucking doing that?” 

You didn’t bristle at his tone. Just flash those pearly whites up at him. “I’m going to have to send my workers home after that fiasco, so. I’d like an extra pair of hands. And I’d hope one of Japan's top Pro heroes would help a book owner in need.”

He rolled his eyes. “Suck up.”

But he did come back. After his shift was over, he stalked his way over the streets he’d just been patrolling and he helped you organise your shelves once more. It was unprofessional. There was probably some code or some rule in the Hero conduct that stated you definitely were not allowed to meet up with civilians you just saved and flirt with them as you alphabetised stacks of books and lifted heavy shelves.

But he did it anyway.

And then he started appearing at the shop more. It was on his patrol route, after all. And he was looking to start reading more as well. And the door to your office is rickety, and he knew how to fix that, so he had to come by again. 

And then he asked you to dinner one day and everything sort of went up from there.

So now he has a girlfriend. And a fiance soon, if things go well next week. And now that Bakugo has it, a person he can call his, he doesn’t know how he lived without it for so long. 

Bakugo doesn’t know how he spent so many years sleeping alone, when now he wakes up and his legs are tangled between yours and your head rests on his chest. You trace the scars that litter his body so gently, gentler than anyone has ever handled him. You know how to match Bakugo’s temper, but better how to calm him down when his flares too much. But it’s more than that. It’s the little things. You always make him lunch for work because you know how busy he gets, and you always leave his towel at the top of the pile because you know he gets up before you. Such small noncommittal things that make all the difference in the world because it shows that you care.

It makes him regret. He wishes he’d given these things a chance when he was younger. But he doesn’t need to think about that because he has you now. It also makes him appreciate patrolling a little more but nobody could beat that information out of him if they tried.

Bakugo sighs. The TV blares a movie he’s not paying attention to. He’d clicked the first thing that had come up in Netflix, some horror movie with an awfully predictable plot. He’s more focused on his phone, more precisely the clock, which tells him you’ll be home in about five minutes. 

Bakugo loves his days off. Any hero does. They are so far and few between that he has no choice but to enjoy them, the few days a month where he can do nothing and not worry about the fate of Japan for one day. What he likes most, though, is that he gets to see you. Before, days off consisted of sitting in his apartment alone or being dragged out to whatever activity Mina had organised for the day. Even then, the odds of them all being off was slim, and so he usually ended up doing the former. He didn’t mind it. Bakugo caught up on his hobbies, tried new recipes. The only perk is now, he gets to do it with you.

And like a miracle, he hears the jingle of your keys in the lock, and he can feel the tension in his shoulders drop. 

The door swings open and you walk in, calling out to let him know you’re home. He leans his head back on the couch until he can see you, and you grin up at him. You’re wearing an old pair of jeans and one of his hoodies, and you hang up your jacket, sighing heavily.

“Why was the store so busy? It’s Sunday.” You grumble, walking to the kitchen to drop off bags of groceries.

“Idiots like you who left their chores until the last minute.” He says, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Shut it. I nearly beat up this old lady in the fruit section. Trying to take my watermelon.” You mumble under your breath.

You slip off the hoodie, grabbing the t-shirt you’d left on the couch. You weren’t wearing anything underneath, and Bakugo got a beautiful eyeful right before you slip it on.

“Uh huh. You sure you need that shirt?” 

He tilts his head and you smile, pulling out the claw clip holding up your hair and scratching your scalp. You slip off your jeans, throwing them on the floor, and shuffle your way over to him.

“Yes. I’m cold.”

“I’ll warm you up.” 

You snort. You clamber onto his lap and Bakugo sits back, hands smoothing over your thighs as you lean your head on his shoulder. You smell like your sweet perfume and outside, and Bakugo lets a hand run up your back and into your hair.

“That’s cheesy. I could wear more layers.” You ponder and he tuts, hands moving down to slip beneath your shirt. 

It’s baggy and oversized, and covers far too much if you ask him. His hands are warm against your cool skin, and his fingers dance against your hips and up, past your waist and to your chest. You sit up, smile curving your lips and your own hands settle on his shoulders.

“So handsy. I was trying to tell you about my day, Suki.” You pout and he reaches up and kisses you.

“Go ahead. M’listening.” He nods, kissing your cheek and your jaw and down your neck.

Bakugo is selfish. He’s self-aware enough to admit that. He’s selfish with his work, the way he fought his way to the top, and still does. He’d improved on it in his growing age but he finds that when you’re involved he doesn’t give a shit. He wants every part of your, every breath, every noise that comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours.

“So, of course I tried to be nice. I’m no animal.” 

He’s not paying as much attention as he should be. In his defence, it’s been far too long since he’s gotten a chance to be with you. He’s been far to busy, and the small hours you meet in bed before you both drift off into sleep is not enough. 

“Stop being nice. It’s your biggest weakness.” He raises an eyebrow.

You flick him squarely in the forehead and he scowls. “Ow.” 

“You need to start being nice, Mr Pro hero. But anyway, she started like, trying to tug it out my hands! And you know what old people are like. So entitled.”

Bakugo nods. You feel great under his hands but. He wants something more. 

“And so now I’m in this fruit aisle sort of shouting a little because I had the watermelon first, and- Katsuki, get out of my shirt!” You laugh as Bakugo slips his head beneath, kissing his way up your stomach.

“That’s- Your hair, it tickles.” You try to push him out but he groans.

“Piss off. Keep talking. Did you kick her ass?”

You sigh. “I- Okay, wait.” 

You quickly pull your shirt off. “Is this better?”

Bakugo grins, lazy and sharp. “Much.” 

Your hand reaches up and cards through his hair. He mumbles into your skin for you to continue, and kisses his way up to your chest.

“And this employee comes over. And he started trying to diffuse the tension, but then he started defending her! And saying I should ‘respect my elders’.” You huff.

Bakugo nods. He kisses across the valley of your breast, the soft skin that presses against the stubble of his jaw. 

“You want me to beat him up?” 

“Hm. I don’t think it will look good on your agency if you beat up Whole food workers.” You sigh.

Bakugo sucks a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing against it. You make a noise in the back of your throat. 

“And. And then I got kind of fed up. The employee had a really annoying voice.” 

Your eyes flutter shut a little when he moves to the other one. His hand comes up to grab the breast his mouth isn’t working on and you sigh.

“He. So I just gave her the watermelon. Cause it wasn’t really that serious.”

Bakugo nods. He lets go, breath cooling the air around your nipple and he glances up at you.

“You should’ve called me. I’d have blown that old hag to the nearest nursery home.” 

You giggle and he grins. His hand presses into the small of your back and pushes you closer. He diverts his attention from your tits and kisses you softly instead. At least it’s soft at first. But then you whine ever so slightly into his mouth and it’s all over after that. His lips almost devour yours, and he can feel your face heat as he nips at your bottom lip, tongue darting out to tangle against your own. Bakugo drags you closer but you huff. Your hand running through his hair pulls his head back and Bakugo frowns.

“The fuck?”

“How is it fair that I’m sitting in my underwear and you’re fully dressed?” 

“I was waiting for you to finish your story first.”

You smile warmly. Bakugo doesn’t know of anyone else who looks at him with so much love. You grab his face and squish his cheeks together.

“You’re so cute.” You coo.

“Shut up.”

“Okay, you made me too horny to finish my story. It was a stupid one, anyway. Can we go fuck now?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

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bakugo kiss challenge go kiss me NOEOWWWW

ive been sooo lazy to write recently.. this took me ages to write and it's nnot even that long.. but i hope u all enjoy!