#she even changed the music to boss music

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do

[omgeto]

☆ GIMME, GIMME MORE — GETO SUGURU

summary: you were just a stripper who had no desire to fuck with any customers, but there was just one you couldn’t shake. once he laid his eyes on you, he wanted you. and with every little piece of you he got — he wanted more.

wc: 6.5k (my longest fic ever, lord help me) its a lot of plot with a nice chunk of smut

cw: afab!stripper!reader, angst to fluff, smutty smut, you fuck in his car, you fuck in a private room (i remembered condoms this time) so mdni sassy geto, if you squint.

an: listen to this song to feel the vibe, I love me some geto and I’ve yet to do a fic for him so I hope you enjoy this one.

the entrance to the high-end club exudes an air of opulence, with its glimmering lights and sophisticated clientele. geto suguru strolls in alongside his best friend, gojo satoru, the low hum of the music washing over them. the glances around, a mixture of boredom and detachment etched on his face. this isn't really his scene, but gojo had insisted on a night out.

as they find their way to a table, surrounded by plush seating and an atmosphere of indulgence, geto's attention wanders. the dancers on stage move with practised sensuality, but his gaze remains distant. until, that is, a change in the music's tempo signals a shift in the performance.

the spotlight illuminates the stage, revealing a figure that seems to command the room's attention effortlessly. you move with a fluid grace, your body swaying in time with the sultry rhythm. the way your hips move, the confidence in your eyes, it's as if you own the room. gojo's earlier detachment gives way to fascination he can't deny.

he couldn’t take his eyes off the way you were sliding down the pole, leaning forward in his seat to see more of you. the star shaped nipple covers and the gem encrusted thong you were wearing left nothing to the imagination. but still he couldn’t help but picture it all off of you, leaning forward in his seat to try and get a closer look. 

gojo nudges him playfully. "not bad, right?"

geto’s response is a low, appreciative whistle as his eyes remain locked on the captivating dancer. his heart races as he watches you command the stage, a magnetic presence that draws him in despite his earlier disinterest. he couldn’t help but feel that you were dancing for him, call him cocky but the way your eyes were locked on him as you threw your ass back against the pole — he knew that was just for him. he looked around the room and saw that everyone else was just as captivated by you as he was.

“she’s the best performer here, she doesn’t do private dances, she doesn’t even do a long set,” gojo brags to geto but he’s barely listening, his eyes too focused on you, “this is as much of her as we can get.” 

as the performance reaches its climax, geto’s lips curve into a slow smile. gojo’s grin is knowing. "looks like someone's found their muse." geto’s tears his gaze away just as you exit the stage, his interest piqued.

“you’ve got a request,” your boss announces insistent and smug, cornering you immediately after you exit the stage.

“you know i don't do requests, i come here, i do a 30 minute set and i leave remember?” you retort, stepping to walk straight past him, but he stops you, standing in front of you to block your path.

“this is a request you can’t refuse,” he adds, a smirk forming on his lips. your eyes narrow at his words, already feeling a sense of unease.

“oh i think i can,” your intention is clear as you step forward, intending to brush past him and continue on your way. but he remains unmoved, determined to stand in your path, his stance a physical barrier you can't easily circumvent.

“there’s a special guest tonight, someone who’s willing to pay handsomely for a private performance,” he explains, his tone implying much more than his words reveal.

you pause, folding your arms, sceptical. “how much are we talking about?”

he names a figure that makes your eyebrows shoot up. It’s a significant sum, the kind that could cover your bills for months, or even help you save for a future beyond the club. but still, you hesitate.

“like i said, i don't take request,” you conclude, brushing past your boss.

“i don’t think this particular patron will like that,” he tries to argue, following directly behind you.

“ask me if i care,” with those words, you step forward once more, your purpose clear as you attempt to carry on. but his presence remains a persistent shadow at your side, his attempts to sway you far from over. 

his argument falters momentarily, but he regains his composure quickly, his tone becoming insistent. "this particular patron isn't accustomed to denial. I don't think he'll take kindly to it."

a defiant smirk tugs at your lips, your patience waning as you find yourself driven further by your own principles. "well, here's a thought—perhaps he should learn."

with that final retort, you pivot on your heel, striding purposefully toward the locker room. the temptation of the significant sum and the vague promise of this special patron tug at the edges of your thoughts, but your determination remains resolute.

“if you don’t do it your fired.” he calls out after you, a desperate final attempt to get you to agree.

you knew you were going against your better judgement, but you turn back to face your boss and with a deep sigh you agree, “fine, i’ll do it. but you owe me.”

with simmering frustration bubbling beneath the surface, you push open the door to the private room, your entrance punctuated by the subtle swish of the heavy fabric. the air within was charged, a blend of anticipation and tension, as you found geto suguru lounging on the plush sofa, his presence an unwelcome sight that intensified your irritation.

your words come out abruptly, a firm reminder to both him and yourself, “i don’t fuck clients,” you state, a touch of defensiveness in your tone. you wanted to establish your boundaries, to make it clear you wouldn’t be swayed easily.

he chuckles, catching you off guard, his amusement evident. “thats nice…” he adds, with a hint of playfulness, “i just wanted to talk anyways.”

“to talk?” you question, surprised at his request, as you knew what went on in the private rooms and talking was far from that.

“yeah, just wanna get to know you,” he explains casually, his eyes studying you.

“i don’t do time wasters,” you complain, ready to leave the room, “and i don’t have time to waste.”

“even if im paying for your time?” he bargains, raising his eyebrows, “im sure your boss told you the pretty expensive bill im footing just for your time.”

crossing your arms, you met his gaze with a steady one of your own. “look, mr…?”

“just call me suguru,” he interjected with a smile that held a hint of charm.

“alright, suguru,” you continued, your tone resolute, “i'm not here to entertain idle chit-chat. i’ll dance for you for an hour and thats it. just abide by the club rules, otherwise im out.”

“why don’t you take private requests?” he inquiries, disregarding your comments.

“because i don’t have to,” you respond nonchalantly, “why are you so persistent that you pay for my time. there’s tons of other great strippers in this club.”

“because i want you.” he shrugs.

“well too bad,” you mock, “just because you have money doesn’t mean you can buy everything.”

“everyone’s got a price,” he argues, chuckling softly, a condescending tone underling his words, “ah, but isn't that the way the world works? everything has a price, even principles.”

the audacity of his statement ignited a fire within you, your voice heated with defiance and scorn. “you think im for sale? you think i’d compromise my integrity just for a fat stack of bills? you’re delusional.”

“oh but isn’t your integrity already compromised,” he teases, raising his eyebrows, “is miss, ‘i dont do private dances,’ not in a private dance with me right now?”

“you know wha–” 

“i changed my mind. i don’t want to talk anymore,” there was a shift in his tone, amusement danced in his eyes, “strip for me.”

you were pissed. but you couldn’t actually argue – he was right. he was paying for your time and he could spend it anyway he wanted to. you’d rather have him silently watching you anyways than talking to you. 

the music blared through the speakers in the room, and you immediately straddled geto, you could feel his dick harden underneath you. the only thing separating you two was the thin layer of fabric of your thong. 

you could see him smirk at you, but you ignored him, grinding your hips down on him to the beat of the music. his starts to trail down your sides, but you give him a pointed look reminding him of the rules – no touching. he surrenders his hands placing them besides his head, content in watching you dance on his lap.

you moved off of him, using the pole that was in the room, his eyes stayed fixed on you. you wanted to put on a show for him, so you move your body expressing a mix of sensuality and power, your eyes lock onto his, daring him to challenge you further, to push your boundaries even more.

the hour was eventually up, and geto didn’t say anything as he left, he just leaves a fat stack of bills on the table, and for some reason you couldn’t bite your tongue, “is that it? you’re just going to leave?”

“well the hours up, no?” he responds, checking his watch, “and, i’ve paid you for your time.” you couldn’t argue with that, so you remain silent watching as he turns his back on you to leave the room.

“suguru,” you call out, getting him to pause, “wait.”

“i thought you didn’t fuck clients,” he smirks, coming up from in between your thighs, “but i am not complaining”

“s-shut up,” you exhale, you’d like to believe that you didn’t expect this to happen, but you knew that was a lie. you didn’t get far out of the club, in fact you didn’t make it out of the parking lot. the back of geto’s car seemed to be perfect with the way he was eating you out. 

the feeling of geto sucking on your clit, had your head empty. his head being pressed between your thighs makes your back arch as you push up against his face. he laps against your folds, drowning in your wetness. 

“‘i don’t do private dances,’” he mocks your previous words, amused with himself, “oh if only you could see yourself now.” he enjoyed you like this, pinned under him, your pussy dripping all over his face, you were a writhing mess; no longer complaining to him about his actions, you were reduced down to moans and incoherent sentences, the only thing he could hear clearly was his name.

“suguru ah s-shit,” you curse, as he presses down on your clit, “do you always talk this much?” you tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his face closer in your pussy, his nose deep in your arousal. he was practically inhaling you, swirling his tongue deep inside, trying to taste every inch of you.

“‘m close suguru,” you whine, thrust up against his face aiming to reach your peak on your own.

“calm down princess,” he teases, pulling his lips away from your pussy, “didn’t know you were this eager.” he presses his lips down on yours, making you taste yourself as his hand goes behind your neck to hold you in place. “see how sweet you can be?” 

he takes his dick out of his pants, quickly putting on a condom, not even giving you much time to think before he’s slamming into your cunt. your eyes widen as your pussy stretches, and geto can only bite his lip as he feels you clench around him.

“you feel so good, y’know that right” he murmurs, forcing himself into you deeper, “so fuckin’ tight.” 

he was merciless, gripping his hands on your tits, as he pistons out of you. he could only focus on how your cunt tightens around him with every push. you were pushing yourself down on him, fucking him right back. you didn’t care for his praise, you just wanted to cum.

“‘you’re t-too much, i-it’s too much”

“but you’re taking me so well,” he argues, with a grin. peppering kissing against your neck as he fucks you to a hilt. your hands find their way back into his hair, pulling and tugging at it as you moan out his name. 

his dick twitches inside you as you call at his name, you could feel that he was about to cum. his strokes were getting sloppier, and his mouth went from biting to sucking on your neck. you could feel yourself about to climax, clawing at his back, as he continues to hit your spot.

“suguru, i’m about to–”

“cum with me,” he demands, swiftly pulling out of and leaving his cum all over your stomach. you release onto his car seats, your cum spilling out of your pussy, pooling into his car seats.

after coming down off your high, you come to your senses. “this doesn’t change anything.” you remove yourself out of his hold, pushing him off you.

“you really gonna say that after i gave you the best time of your life?” 

"'best time of my life?'" you echo, a smirk tugging at your lips as you gather your belongings, "someone's cocky."

“i'm starting to feel you like me that way,” he teases, his words a playful challenge.

you roll your eyes, not willing to engage in his banter any longer. "goodbye, suguru," you reply, opening his car door. "don't return to the club."

“oi princess,” he calls after you, “you left your thong.”

“keep it.” you wink as you step outside of the car, “think of it as a souvenir.”

“why would i need that, when im going to see you again?” you don't respond, shutting the car door with a smile on your face as part of you hoped that he did return.

geto did see you again, practically every day after that. it became a consistent routine, he’d book a private room for a couple hours, you’d fuck, you’d talk and see each other whenever he wanted. he came when he needed you – and he always needed you.

as a stripper, you’ve always had one rule ‘don’t fuck with clients,’ but the moment that geto suguru laid his eyes on you – you were his. there was something about him that made him different from all the other patrons, although they were all snobby rich guys, the way that geto carried himself made you feel like he was worth breaking your rule. or at least that's what you told yourself. 

you didn’t just fuck each other – sometimes he just wanted to talk to you, to ask you about your day, to get to know you. and you could tell he was starting to catch feelings that you weren’t prepared to deal with. however, despite him being rich, there was something endearing in knowing that he went out of his way, every day, to pay just to see you. even when you were mean and standoffish.

you always spoke for longer than you expected – longer than he even paid for. geto surprised you, he was actually interested in talking with you. as the minutes turned into an hour, the conversations flowed in unexpected directions. you found yourselves sharing stories, discussing interests, and laughing at each other’s jokes. geto’s charming demeanour and genuine interest gradually chipped away at your initial reservations.

“did you always want to be a stripper?” he asks, you had just finished fucking and he still had an hour left of paid time with you, and he was going to use it.

“do you always pillowtalk?” you retort smartly, evading his question.

“who would’ve thought you’d still be this bitchy after being fucked so good,” he jokes, pulling you into his hold that you quickly ease into, “girl just answer the question.”

“i don’t know,” you sigh, “i needed the money, i loved to dance, so being a stripper was a no brainer to me.”

“do you like working here?” 

you shift slightly in his embrace, your fingers idly trace patterns on his chest. "liking it? well, it pays the bills, if that's what you're asking."

his fingers brush against your hair in a soothing gesture. "but is that all? just a means to an end?"

you sigh, a mixture of vulnerability and honesty in your tone. "i mean, it's not like i dreamt of becoming a stripper when I was a kid. but it's a job that's allowed me some financial stability, even if it's temporary."

geto's voice was gentle, his curiosity evident. "temporary for how long?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal. "i don’t know, i haven’t thought that far. i just wanna make money.”

"well, if you ever get tired of dancing, i can always buy the club for you." his response was unexpected, a mixture of humour and absurdity. “i think you’d make a good boss.”

“ha, if you did that i’d know that you’re truly obsessed with me,” you chuckle, his words catching you off guard. “i know you enjoy this place, but that's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"maybe, but you're worth it." he grins, his playful demeanour unwavering. "you're more than what you do here, you know."

a soft, ironic chuckle escapes your lips. "funny, coming from someone who's always here."

his grip on you tightens slightly, his voice holding a trace of seriousness. "perhaps I come here because I want to be around you. not just the dancer."

it was as if his presence had chipped away at the walls you had erected, leaving you exposed to a whirlwind of feelings you hadn't anticipated.his gaze, unwavering and intense, held yours as if searching for a sign—a spark of recognition that you too were experiencing this undeniable pull.

"suguru," you begin, your voice a whisper that barely bridged the distance between you, "this... whatever it is between us, it can't be as simple as you wanting to be around me."

he smiles softly, a gentle curve of his lips that holds both understanding and patience. "you're right, it's not simple. but isn't that what makes it worth exploring?" his words were a delicate melody, an invitation to step beyond the boundaries you had created.

you met his gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and longing. the weight of his presence was undeniable, a force that had drawn you in and left you yearning for more. but your insecurities whispered caution, reminding you of the differences that set you apart.

"suguru," you admit, your voice softer now, "i've never let anyone get this close. it's complicated, and I don't even know where this could lead."

“it doesn’t matter where it will leads,” he says, “what matters is that you like me? right?”

his words hung in the air, a direct question that pierced through the layers of uncertainty and vulnerability that surrounded you. the room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of his question settling like a delicate veil over the intimate space you shared.

your breath caught, and for a moment, time itself seemed to pause. the truth, the raw honesty that had eluded you, stood before you—bold and unyielding. you looked into his eyes, his gaze unwavering and patient, as if he was giving you the space to find your own truth within the question.

your voice, soft and tinged with a mixture of trepidation and longing, finally found its way to the surface. "i..." you pause, the words catching in your throat. but in the depth of his gaze, you found a strange sense of comfort, an assurance that you could be honest without judgement.

"maybe," you admit, your voice a whisper that carries the weight of your emotions. "maybe i do like you, suguru." the admission felt like a release, letting go of the barriers you had constructed to protect yourself.

a slow smile curved his lips, a genuine expression that lit up his features. it was as if your honesty had unlocked a door, allowing both of you to step closer to a truth that had been waiting to surface. he replies with deep content, "maybe is a good start," 

the room felt charged with an energy you couldn't quite define, a tension that simmered beneath the surface. your eyes held his, a silent conversation that spoke volumes—an acknowledgement of the unspoken connection that had grown between you.

as you lay there, cocooned in the aftermath of both physical intimacy and heartfelt conversation, an internal struggle brewed within you. your heart was stirred by the sincerity of geto's words, by the connection that seemed to grow stronger with every interaction. yet, amidst the warmth and comfort, a sense of bittersweet uncertainty gnawed at you.

the boundary you had set, the rule you had vowed to uphold, wavered under the weight of emotions you hadn't anticipated. you were drawn to geto, but a tangle of reservations held you back.

in the embrace of the night, you found yourself torn between the allure of a connection you had come to cherish and the lingering fear of what being with him might entail. 

“you’re here early,” you comment, seeing geto in his usual seat. at this point, you were practically excited to see him, happy to go to work knowing that he’d show up.

“i guess i thought i’d change things up a bit,” he mutters his tone of voice off, “we’ve got to make this quick, though” he starts to undo his belt, “i’ve only got an hour till my next meeting.”

“wow no talking today?” you ask amused. geto usually is the one that likes to take his time, he always says he prefers to stimulate your mind before anything else, but today was different.

he gives you a pointed look, not bothering to respond so you continue to say, “an hour?” smirking as you straddle his lap, freeing his dick, “i think that’s more than enough time.” 

“new outfit?” he muses, pulling at the straps of the lingerie you were wearing. you nod, focusing on stroking his dick, “red’s your colour, i like it. but i’d rather see it off you.” suddenly, he rips off your bra and forces you up to take off your panties. you bend down to take off your heels, but he pauses you, “keep those on.”                 

“get my fingers wet for me,” he commands, dragging you back onto his lap. you happily comply, taking in two fingers into your warm, pouty mouth. he caresses your jaw as you greedily nibble on his fingers. 

he pulls them out thoroughly coated with your saliva and shoves them into your pussy. you gasp at the contact, and crumble into his side but he forces your head up with his hand pressing a rough kiss to your lips. 

“w-whats with you today?” you query, as you see the look on geto’s face – something was off with him. although you couldn’t deny the pleasure you were getting from his current roughness, you were used to a gentler geto.

“nothing,” he dismisses you, slipping in another finger into your soaking pussy. his thumb rubs against your clit as his fingers easily glide in and out of you. you felt like you cum off of his fingers alone, you grind down hard against his fingers aiding yourself in reaching your climax. but just as you were nearing, he swiftly removes his fingers landing a fat smack against your clit, “i know i said i had to make it quick, but i didn’t think you’d be this excited.”

geto swiftly puts on a condom, raises you up slightly before slamming you down on his dick. he smiles as your legs wrap around his back, pleased by the sound of your heels clacking together. you shudder as he immediately fills you, your pussy stretching, taking all of him. 

he thrusts into you hard, and you try to meet his pace and fuck him back as hard as he was doing to you – but you were no match for him. you were practically a ragdoll as he hammered into you, your arms flinging around his neck to hold yourself up.

“f-fuck,” you moan, clawing at his back, “im gonna cum.”

“hold it,” he demands, continuing to give you strong, relentless strokes. your head falls into his shoulder in submission, you were already gushing all over him, but he keeps going, hard and fast. he lifts up your head, and presses a soft peck against your lips before saying, “cum.”

geto movements turn sloppy as he finishes into the condom. you release all over his dick, shuddering as you feel your peak surge through you. he presses one more kiss to your neck, before you move off of him. 

“are you good?” you finally ask him, as you put back on your outfit, “you seemed a little out of it tonight.”

he shifts on his feet, his restlessness palpable as he watches you. "yeah," he mumbles, looking around the room at everything but you, his fingers fumbling with his belt as if seeking something to anchor himself. "i'm alright."

"you sure?" you persist, a touch of concern pushing you to press further. usually, you wouldn't challenge him this way – because whatever he says goes in the time that he pays for. but the stark contrast to his usual demeanour gnaws at your thoughts. "i just want to make sure that you're okay–"

"didn't I say I was alright," he sneers, a defensive edge entering his tone, "it's like you don't listen or something."

“see, there is definitely something wrong with you,” you snap, screwing your face up at his tone, “since the usual geto that walks up in here knows that he’ll have my heel shoved up his asshole before he can talk to me like that.”

your words hang in the air, the charged tension growing thicker as you each hold your ground. he shifts his weight, his gaze flickering toward you briefly before skittering away. the air seems heavy with unspoken words, a tangible unease settling between you.

"i've actually been wondering how long we're going to be doing this for," he finally says, his voice low, almost as if he's reluctant to voice the thought.

“this?” you question, a confused look appears upon your face as you fold your arms. you knew what he was getting at – you just wanted to hear him say it, “you mean my job.”

his gaze finally lifts to meet yours, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips. "oh, I didn't know it was your job to fuck the customers here. I thought you were just a stripper… not a prostitute." 

his words hit like a jolt, a rush of emotion flooding your senses as you absorb their implications. your jaw tightens, a surge of frustration warring with a pang of hurt. "don't be condescending."

he chuckles, the sound a mix of amusement and something else you can't quite place. "why not? you seem to be a pro at it."

“fuck you.”

“y’know, i’ve figured a lot about you in these times we’ve spent together – despite the fact that you don’t talk much,” he starts to say, his grin getting wider with every word, “i’ve worked out that you liked to be chased, you like the fact that I was intrigued enough to make you break your dumb ass rule, you like the fact that even after I managed to break down your pussy walls, I still wanna take your rude ass to dinner.”

his words cut deep, the truth laced with a mocking tone. you glare at him, the mixture of attraction and anger churning within you. he was right in a way – you did like the chase, the thrill of his attention. 

"you really have it all figured out, don't you?" you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. his observations stung because they hit too close to the mark. but there was a small part of you that reminded yourself that he was just like the rest of the rich assholes that strolled through the club – and he was proving you right in this very moment.

“well suguru, i’ve worked some things about you.” you sneer, “you’re not the first wealthy lame that has walked into this club demanding more from me than a lap dance and some ego stroking–”

“but i’m the first to get it though aren’t i,” he interrupts, his tone teasing, “what does that say about me?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms defensively. "it says that you're just like the rest of them, thinking you're different, thinking you're special."

his gaze narrows, the spark of something more intense gleaming in his eyes. "oh, I never said I was different. but I am special, darling, and you know it.” you huff defiantly, sitting back down on the couch – this was an argument you couldn’t. because although he was cocky, he was right.

geto joins you, his hand coming gripping your thigh to get your attention, “look i don't want to be doing this with you, all i want is to spend time out with you outside these four walls,” he says as you gnaw on your lip, considering it, “it would be nice to see you with some clothes on for a change.”

he holds your gaze, his fingers tightening slightly on your thigh as if trying to anchor himself in the midst of the storm of emotions you've stirred. his vulnerability is a stark contrast to the confidence he usually exudes, and it catches you off guard. for a moment, you're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting feelings – his words tugging at something deep within you that you're not quite ready to acknowledge.

but then, you remember the rules you've set for yourself, the boundaries you've fought so hard to maintain. no matter how much he may want to blur those lines, you can't afford to give in.

without giving him a direct answer, you shift slightly, his hand sliding off your thigh as you put some distance between you. your gaze flickers away from him, focusing on some distant point in the room as you compose yourself.

"well, hour's over," you finally say, your tone a touch colder than before. "leave the money where you usually do."

his face falls, the vulnerability replaced by a mixture of disappointment and frustration. he opens his mouth, as if he wants to protest or say something more, but the words seem to die on his lips. the atmosphere between you turns tense once again, the unspoken words and desires hanging heavily in the air. 

you don't meet his gaze as you move to gather your things, your actions brisk and efficient. you've mastered the art of detachment, of creating a barrier between yourself and the clients who come and go, no matter how they may affect you.

as you head toward the exit, your heart beats a little faster, a mix of regret and longing that you refuse to entertain. this is how it has to be – business, no matter how much your heart might argue otherwise.

behind you, you hear him sigh, a sound heavy with frustration and resignation. the door clicks shut behind you, the echo of the room's tension lingering in the silence.

he never returned after that. days turned into weeks, and still, geto's presence remained absent from the club. while you hadn't expected him to return, a small part of you had held onto a glimmer of hope that he might. but the weeks turned into months, and the emptiness left by his absence lingered.

life settled back into its routine – the dimly lit stage, the rhythmic music, you danced, you entertained, you put on a show. yet, there was an ache within you, a void that refused to be filled.

as time went on, you found yourself replaying memories of his presence in your mind – the teasing glint in his eyes, the genuine concern in his voice, the way his smile could light up a room. the connection you had shared, brief as it was, had left an indelible mark on your heart.

you missed the daily banter, the way he would surprise you with his insights, the simple pleasure of knowing he was there. the club felt different now, as if it had lost a part of its vibrancy. the nights were quieter, the laughter more subdued, and the glamour that once surrounded your performances felt somewhat dimmed.

despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the longing that had settled within you. you had a taste of something more with him, a glimpse of a world beyond the club's confines. and now, as you danced under the neon lights, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find that connection again.

the longing in your heart grew with each passing day, a constant reminder of what had been and what might have been. yet, even as you missed him, you were grateful for the moments you had shared – moments that had shown you a different side of life, a side you had almost forgotten was possible.

as you stepped into the club again to start your shift, an unsettling feeling settled in your stomach. the club, which was typically alive with the pulsating beat of music and the murmurs of patrons, was eerily quiet. it was as if the very essence of the place had been stripped away, leaving behind an empty void.

confusion crept into your mind as you glanced around, searching for any sign of movement or life. your footsteps echoed in the emptiness, the sound feeling unusually loud against the backdrop of silence. what was going on? had something happened that you weren't aware of?

just as you were about to turn and leave, the sense of unease growing stronger, your eyes land on a figure sitting on the main stage. your heart skipps a beat, a mix of surprise and a rush of emotions flooding over you. it was him – geto. he was here, his presence filling the void that had gripped the club.

he sat there, as if he belonged on that stage, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense as he watches you. the familiar, cocky smirk was ever present on his lips, and despite the confusion that clouds your mind, a warmth spreads through your chest at the sight of him.

as you draw closer, his smirk softens into a genuine smile, a glimmer of something unspoken in his eyes. the air was thick with tension, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty hanging between you. your heart races in your chest, the space between you charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

"suguru," you finally breathe his name, your voice a mere whisper in the stillness.

he stands, his movements fluid and confident, as he closes the distance between you. "hey," he greets, his voice carrying a warmth that echoed through the empty club.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, your voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

“let’s just say there’s new management here” 

“you bought the club.” you interrogate, “why?”

“i don’t know, im a guy with a lot of money, so i bought a business.” he shrugs blatantly lying, “that’s what guys like me do…”

"you missed me," you conclude, with a grin.

he nods, "I guess I missed you...or whatever," his facade drops immediately. "it's just after you rejected me, i was pissed. all i wanted to do was to show you that i actually cared about you, for you to give me a chance.”

“and buying the club was the most logical way for you to show me that you care?” you argue. “you didn’t have to do that,” emotions swirled within you – a mixture of surprise, hope, and a spark of something you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time. before you could respond, he took a step closer, his fingers gently brushing against yours. it was a simple touch, but it held a promise, a connection that went beyond words.

"why do you always have to be so difficult?” he questions fiercely, “why can’t you just let me show you that i do care about you?”

the weight of his words hung in the air, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw the vulnerability, the sincerity that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. “why do you care?” you retort, almost childishly. you knew that he cared, you knew why he cared – you just had an affinity for making things difficult. 

he rolls his eyes at your hard front “if it was anybody else, he would’ve given up a long time ago. but for some reason you were worth it. “because i see you for more than just the standoffish dancer who doesn’t let anyone get to her, im sure you know this by now.” he pulls you closer to him, into a strong hold. “now will you stop fronting and let me have you – all of you?”

you nod with mock reluctance, practically melting in his arms, “but what about my job? I’m not gonna stop being a stripper just because of you.”

“and i wouldn’t even ask you too,” he says quick with reassurance, “besides i find it hot that everyone gets to see you this way but they just can’t have you like i do.” he starts to work your top off your body, unhooking your bra, exposing your tits, “like just imagine, a crowd full of people watching me fuck the shit out of you — wanting you so badly, but not getting to touch.”

“we can’t do this here,” you gasp out as his fingers start to toy with your hard nipples, pinching and twisting them.

“why not?” he smirks, “you’re the boss aren’t you?”

“me, but i thought you bought the club.”

“you’re the one who said if i bought it you’d know that im truly obsessed with you,” he reasons, his lips pressing a kiss under your ear as he whispers, “do you get the picture now?”

“like I said you really d-didn’t have to do that,” you say, “i was the one that fucked things up here. you didn’t have to buy a whole business for get me to tell you that i like you.”

“oh so you do like me,” he comments sarcastically, “who would’ve thought.”

“shut up,” you grumble, swatting at his chest as he laughs, “i am sorry though. i don’t know why i pulled you into my little game, i knew i liked you a long time ago — but I just couldn't bring myself to admitting it. and I'm sorry for that .”

“it’s fine,” he reassures, “i knew dealing with you would be a challenge — granted i didn’t think it would be this hard — but i knew in the end it would be worth it.” his hands lower down your body, shimmying your pants off of you, “so now you gonna show me how sorry you truly are?”

AN: um so this was A LOT my longest fic ever, please lemme know what you thought since I am SOOOO UNSURE ABOU THIS ONE. thank you to my baessss @kazushawty @satoruhour for beta reading (I owe you two my life) also ur boss was pissed asf to find out that the club he owned was bought and given to you when he was the one that basically got you and geto together in the first place. ill make a part two where gojo comes back to the club to see the pretty little stripper who's got all of his besties attention looool jk

[jobean12-blog]

At First Sight

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (maybe he's a Mafia/Mob boss, maybe CEO- either way he's too delicious to ignore)

Word Count: 2,248

Summary: You're out to celebrate with friends when something unexpected happens.

Author's Note: We all know I love Mob/CEO Bucky and skirting that mystery line so you can use your imagination here! Honestly, if he approached me like this I'd just be putty in his hands haha 😏thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, Bucky is pretty forward, fun, drinking and mentions of alcohol but everyone is coherent and able to make clear choices, fingering, semi-public sex, curses

“I’m not sure…?”

You look between your two friends, Sadie, and Nia, and blink several times. “Too much?”

They look at each other then back at you.

“Definitely not!” Sadie squeals.

“And besides,” Nia adds, “the limo’s here. Too late to change!”

The space is dark, loud, and filled with moving bodies. You shove your way up to the bar and shout, “excuse me!” hoping to get the bartender’s attention.

With the music so turned up and so many other people slamming the bar, the bartender doesn’t even look in your direction.

“Heyyyy!” you shout with a slap on the bar.

“I’m not sure he heard you.”

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, you look up at the man pressed close to you at the crowded bar.

He’s tall. And sexy. And gorgeous. And wearing a smirk that screams trouble…in the best way.

“Yelling won’t work doll,” the man says, motioning to the bartender. “It’s just too damn loud.”

You purse your lips as you try to think of a witty comeback but before you can he continues.

“But lucky for you, he’s my friend so I’ll help you order another round of those shots you seem to love.”

“How do you know what I love to drink?” you start, batting your lashes. “Maybe it’s a Whiskey neat.”

You lift your chin and smile sweetly, waiting for his reply.

“You’ve been ordering the same blue shots all night beautiful.”

Your mouth falls open to respond but nothing comes out.

Has he been watching you all night? Creepy or…amazing?

Instead, you stare and take in his features. Perfection.

The bartender comes over and looks at the man beside you expectantly.

“Three fingers of Whiskey, Steve and whatever the beautiful woman is having. She’s been waiting a bit.”

He turns to you, wearing a lopsided smile. “Will you be having Whiskey too?”

“I think I just might,” you tell your new friend.

“And how many fingers would you like doll?”

He watches you with an innocent expression as he spreads his long fingers out on the bar.

“Did you just…?” you stammer.

“Maybe just start with two,” he says.

A playful smile teases his lips, and you can’t help but stare at them.

“Fine, two fingers,” you say the bartender, “of whiskey…,” and then you give the man beside you a demure smile, “and more shots please.”  

“First time here?” the man asks, his gaze sweeping over you.

“How did you know?”

“I’d remember seeing you angel.”  

Even with his flirty forwardness you can’t seem to find anything that makes you uncomfortable. His eyes are friendly, and he’s standing close but not too close, just enough so you know he wants to be there to talk to you and only you.

You glance back to search for your friends but can’t find them anywhere.

“What are you celebrating tonight?” he asks when your eyes find his again.

“What makes you think I’m here celebrating anything?”

You raise an eyebrow and hold his stare.

“Do you ever just answer a question?” he counters.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your smile and fire back with, “do you ever stop asking questions?”

He laughs, the action lighting up his face and making his eyes crinkle flawlessly at the corners. It makes your stomach flutter.

You hold each other’s gaze for a beat before he continues.

“All the dancing and drinks…seems like a good time…a celebration.”

“Well, you’re right. My friend just got an amazing promotion at work.”

He smiles triumphantly and you smile back.

“So, there’s no chance you’ll be leaving here with me tonight.”

The bartender sets your drinks down in front of you just as your new eye candy finishes the sentence and you grab for your glass, downing as much as you can before you start to choke.

With a laugh the man takes a long and slow sip of his Whiskey, watching you. You put your half empty glass down on the bar with a dramatic bang and exhale.

“I…what? No!”

“That’s too bad,” he replies.

“You just met me,” you argue.

“And since the moment you walked in you’ve had my full attention,” he admits.

The shots seem to hit you all at once and you sway on your feet. He steadies you with a gentle but strong hand on your arm.

“Easy doll.”

“Ok��stop being so charming. The smiling and the touching… I like it way too much. It makes me want things…and we’ve only just met.”

“What kinds of things?” he asks, voice smooth like silk and deep.

You swallow hard and he tracks the movement of your throat before his eyes linger on your lips.

You gather up the shots for the girls. “We’re going to do these.”

He nods, slowly, his smile growing.

“So…um. I’ll see you later…?”

You wait, hoping he’ll give you his name.

“James, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Ok then, see you later Bucky.”

“I sure hope so angel.”

You find your friends at a table, catching their breath, and set down the shots.

“I met the hottest guy.”

Both friends pause with the drinks halfway to their mouths.

“What the hell are you doing here then?” Sadie asks.

“Girl’s night, we’re celebrating,” you say. “Duh.”

“Fuck that, go dance with the hot guy!” Nia shouts.

You lift your glass to your lips and shake your head. “No way, I’m here to dance with you all! Let’s go!”

You polish off the shot, wait for them to do the same then hold out your hands to pull them onto the dance floor.

The beat of the music surrounds you and you let go, forgetting routine and responsibility and just enjoying the moment.

Sadie yells something to you about the song that just started but you don’t quite catch it. Just behind her, set in the shadows off the side of the bar stands Bucky.

Your eyes meet and neither of you look away.

He doesn’t seem the least bit surprised to be caught staring at you. Every inch of your skin heats and when he lifts his glass, takes a sip, and smiles, you smile back…and start to move…just for him.

The hem of your dress inches higher as you lift your arms above your head, swaying your body to the rhythm of the music and getting lost in it. Your friends move closer and lean in.

“You’ve attracted an audience,” Sadie chuckles.

She whips her head to the side to point out the group of guys moving closer. You ignore the group and search the shadows for Bucky but he’s nowhere to be seen.

With unexpected disappointment you grab Sadie and tell her you need to use the ladies room, weaving your way though the crowd and off the dance floor. You follow the signs to the second floor, which is essentially a balcony overlooking the rest of the space.

After freshening up you walk out of the door and right into something hard. Bucky grips your biceps lightly, holding you close.

“You ok?” he asks.

You were standing close to him at the bar, but not this close, not close enough to smell his skin and feel the rise and fall of his chest. It makes you heady, but you manage a nod.

“Hi angel,” he smiles.

“Hi.”

“I was enjoying watching you dance.”

“I noticed.”

You hold his gaze, unable to look away. Down at the bar it was hard to tell the color of his eyes, but here, hidden away, even in the low light you can see they’re beautiful. The blue is like the ocean on a sparkling sunny day. Mesmerizing.

“Do you know what watching you does to me?”

You blink, trying your hardest to keep up with his directness.

He reaches down to take your hand, his grip loose and his movements tentative, waiting for you to tell him to stop.

When you don’t he presses it firmly to where he’s hard and aching.

“All this?” you ask in a breathy whisper. “Just from watching me?”

“Come home with me.”

You let out a little giggle.

“No. I can’t.”

“Come to my car then.”

“I’m not leaving this club with you.”

Even as you hear yourself say the words you know they aren’t holding the force you want them to.

He bends and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“But I’m dying to touch you.”

It’s impossible to pretend you don’t want the same thing and you place your palms on his chest and push him backward into the darkness.

“Is that a yes?” he asks as he runs a long finger over the curve of your shoulder.

“You aren’t some psycho are you?”

With a chuckle he moves closer, brushing his lips along your cheek. “You make me feel a bit crazy doll, but no, I’m not.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head, whispering against his lips, “something tells me I can trust you.”

He moves willingly, and meets you with a smile, pressing his lips to yours.

“You taste as good as you look angel. What’s your name?”

“My name?” you whisper, so caught up in the feel of him you almost forgot.

“You know my name, so you’ll know what to call me when you’re about to come. It’s only fair I do the same.”

You let out a little gasp and hold onto his shoulders more tightly.

“I…,”

You feel his smile against your mouth before he turns you and presses your front to the edge of the balcony overlooking everything below.

He takes your chin between his fingers to turn your head and steal another kiss, lingering until you whisper your name against his lips.

With a satisfied smile his fingers tease the edge of your dress and then he lifts it, sliding his hands down between your legs to rub along your panties.

“You’re so wet. And all for me angel.”

You moan loudly when he slides a long finger inside you and presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs into your ear as he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit.

You turn and look at him. His eyes are wide open and clear. He teases you more, watching your every reaction then turns you to face him and drags you against the wall, bending to kiss you, hard and hungry.

“Someone could come down here,” he reminds you, meeting your eyes, giving you one last out.

You don’t care. He’s too perfect. He feels too good.

When you don’t protest he kneels at your feet and carefully pushes up your dress, hooking his thumbs into your panties to slowly drag them down.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, standing and lifting your leg to spread you open.

Reaching between your bodies, you open his jeans and push them down along with his boxers. You grab for him, rubbing him through your arousal.

“Fuck doll, wait. I need to put this on.”

He reaches behind him and fumbles for the back pocket of his jeans, pulling a condom free.

“You’re big,” you whisper, loving the feel of his warm, silky skin.

His grin is wolfish. “That’s the best thing you could say to me.”

You run your closed hand along the length of him again, letting the tip just bump your clit.

“Fuck, keep that up and I’ll be coming all over your hand.”

His fingers are unsteady as he works to slip the condom on.

“Have you done this before?” you ask, unable to keep your eyes off his cock.

“Have sex with a beautiful woman in a public space?”

He starts to push into you, achingly slowly. “No angel, I’ve never done this before…but with you, I’ll take what I can get.”

His words die away when he’s fully inside you, rubbing against your clit with each stroke and filling you so completely. You grip his shoulders as his thrusts grow faster.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

He leans back and looks down between your bodies, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second before he starts to move faster.

When he leans down to kiss you he slows his movements, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back in. The slow pace doesn’t last long, and he hitches your leg higher to go deeper.

You feel your release building in your stomach and it’s only a few seconds more before a cry falls from your parted lips.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps, his hips moving jaggedly and rough before he comes with a deep groan.

He leans heavily against you, pressing his lips to your neck. “You’ve wrecked me angel.”

His hand is gentle when it smooths along your leg, and he pulls out. You straighten your dress as he rolls off the condom.

“That was perfect Bucky,” you hum, meeting him for a kiss.

He nods, dazed. “You’re ok?”

“Better than ok,” you answer. “And I think I’m ready for another dance.”

His lips twitch with a surprised grin and you turn away before he can respond, leaving him standing with his pants still unbuttoned.

A few minutes later you find Sadie and Nia, both ready to head home. And it isn’t until you’re sitting in the quiet of the limo, reliving every second of what happened with Bucky, that you realize you’d left your panties on the floor at his feet.

[emmyrosee]

She got her quiet sneaking in from you.

Kenma’s fingers tap roughly on the controller in his hands, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in focus. He’s died four times to this monster, its shrieks of agony scaring him once embarrassingly in front of his chat, the other three deaths because, now that he’s past being scared, Kenma realizes what a damn hard boss this is.

“Chat, I’m telling you right now, if I see this dev in the streets, I’m taking a crowbar to their knee caps- this is a promise, not a warniIIIIIIING!”

He lurches from the gentle tug of his elbow, heart sinking to his chest in complete fear and acceptance that this is it for him, he’s dead. His arm is ripped away from the source, but when he hears a tiny gasp in fear, Kenma’s heart beats calmly again.

“Daddy okay?” Maesi asks, and kenma pauses the game to turn to her.

“You startled me baby,” he teases, and she blocks up at him with doe eyes to coax him to forgive her. As if she really needs to do that. “But what’s up beautiful?” He asks, putting down his controller and stretching. “How are you, angel?”

Maesi hums and passes her father the plate, her eyes peering up at him timidly- a trait he wants to blame on you, but every time, he’s met with a cocked eyebrow from you. “Want french fry?”

Kenma chuckles and nods, “I mean, you know I’m never gonna say no to fries,” he says, reaching down to grab the lukewarm fry from her tiny plastic plate. God knows how long they’ve been out, at least four hours; but that doesn’t stop kenma from letting his little girl take care of him in her own way. “You wanna be in daddy’s stream? Say hi to chat?” When she nods, Kenma lifts her up and into his lap, and once done, he reaches over to pick up another fry. In his headphones, Kenma hears that he got a donation.

Thank you kuroosassscheek for gifted 75 subs: hey Kenma there’s something behind you

“Thank you, Kuroo,” he scoffs. “Spawn, say hi to chat and uncle Tetsu.”

“Hi chat, hi uncle Tetsu,” she hums shyly, and Kenma kisses her temple around his chewing. “What playin’?”

“Daddy’s playing a scaaaary game,” he says, voice hiked slightly while he gasps. Maesi giggles before passing him another fry, which he takes quickly.

“Gonna have nightmare,” she warns.

Kenma raises his brows in agreement, “mommy’s gonna have to tuck me in.”

“Me too,” she mumbles, curling into Kenma’s hoodie, nose burrowing into his neck and tickling his skin slightly. “Play Star Valley?” She asks.

He hugs her tightly with a fake groan of effort, and she giggles happily, “you want to watch daddy play Stardew Valley?”

“Yeah..”

“Does mumma know you’re in here?”

Maesi is quiet- he chuckles and shakes his head, letting her get comfortable against him. He knows you’re not far, probably asleep on the couch, and Kenma prepares himself to potentially have to carry his two sleeping babies to bed.

“Alright- one second chat,” he says simply, grabbing his controller to change the game to the easy, calming game Maesi loves to watch him play. “We’ll pick that up tomorrow. Gotta protect myself from nightmares.”

Once again, Maesi lets out a little laugh; she tucks her face as close as she can to him, only shifting to grab another fry to munch on. He tips his head slightly again, to plant a kiss on the crown of her head, the soothing music in his headphones gets placed on her head, and before kenma can start any of his tasks, he feels Maesi’s breathing even out, her plate of fries and nuggets placed somewhere on the desk for him to take.

And that’s okay. He’ll play for a while, just in case she wakes up, and he’ll let her sleep in confidence in her fathers arms. Kenma’s pleased as the numbers in his stream doesn’t immediately drop: it stays, even now as it’s been hijacked by the one he loves most.

This 🥺🩷

[drenched-in-sunlight]

*SoTE spoilers undercut

This is a continued discussion in light of Marika's newly discovered tragedy. It changes so many things about how we look at the story thus far but more importantly - the DLC story trailer, especially this scene:

think about how Messmer knows, very acutely, that at one point his mother could have been cut up and put in a jar. and that his other kins were not so lucky....... it gives that scene such a tragic edge.

he wasn't doing this just for the violence. this is his answer to Marika's love and all she has done for him. yeah it's not right, it's not justified, but as something done to avenge for the kind of pain she went through? it won't be logical nor right but it's something he will do again without hesitation.

the infirmary in Shadow's Keep shows that he's trying to care for and save whatever left of her people. their people.

the line he said in his armor set description hits different when you consider all that. he wants to be the heir to all her sorrow and all of her pain. wishing that he could alleviate even just a bit of the burden of her grief and survivor guilt.

i wonder if, when Marika hid him in the Land of Shadow, fearing people will judge him for the malevolent snake he carried, she raised him in her home village? this will explain why the Tree Sentinels guarding the village drop two Blessing of Marika - the blessing that specifically stated Marika made it for Messmer's sake and him alone. it will also explain how he knew of his Mother's tragic past and took it upon himself to carry out her wish of vengeance for her people.

(also if you wanted to get to Marika's village, you have to perform the O Mother gesture before her statue in his Shadow Keep, implying he's guarding the way to her home village as well.)

One other thing I like is that in the story trailer, the heroic music sounds like it's for Miquella. and it is, in a way. it is his boss music, but the lyrics has "Ave Marika Aeterna" (Hail, Marika The Eternal).

Given that the boss arena is where Marika - the sole survivor of a whole village, walked through to salvage the remains of her people, making them the symbol of her divine ascension, I wonder if that OST is actually for her - the God, the woman whose story is finally realized in this DLC, and those female voices singing in honour of her are the spirits of her fallen kins: cheering on their last hope for justice. Through this girl, those people who had been wronged and died there will live on eternally.

All this of course seems like such a charitable take on all this, after all Marika ended up being just like the oppressors who used to put her people in jars, but I think I just want to appreciate how the environmental storytelling of this DLC is simply amazing. and once you consider that this is, in the end, Marika's story, everything will make a lot more sense.

[calumfmu]

sugar coated melting.

Being assistant to the famous Steve Harrington wasn't an easy task, he was demanding as ever and made sure he was nice to everyone but you. But a job was a job, and it was the cost of working in Hollywood.

Famous!Steve Harrington x Assistant!reader (modern!au, with 40's Steve) 7.5k+ words

cw: older Steve Harrington, smut, loss of virginity, inexperienced!reader, AFAB reader, angst (what's new), mentions of death, swearing, 18+, mdni

Working with one of the most famous actors in the world was draining, exhausting, taxing, everything you could negatively describe. He was such a high maintenance person, he made your job seem like a constant boot camp run for the Navy Seals. Your best friend had cackled at that supply of information.

Steve wasn’t a bad person, no. He was handsome (obviously, he had been voted most handsome of the previous 2 years in a row), kind (to most people—who weren’t you), and compassionate (he let you eat his leftovers that one time you had gotten stuck on set for 16 straight hours). You were getting paid to say nice things about him if anyone had asked.

Life working as his head assistant was just a drag. It was everything you had dreamed of doing when you were a kid, working in Hollywood with big A-listers, attending red carpets, seeing the way movies worked. The job wasn’t the problem, it… was him.

A script was shoved into your hands as you thought of giving it to the man. The look on his face was burned into the back of your mind, irritation crossing his features as you imagined giving him the bad news. He always took things out on you, attitude forward as he said some slick remark.

Last minute script change, typical of productions like these. Something that anyone could expect while working on these things. Anyone with a normal level of patience would handle it well, take it with stride.

Your fingers rapped against the trailer door, aluminum warm to the touch from the sun beating down on it. Movement sounded behind the door, mumbling a few words out at you.

The door swung open, Steve rubbing at his eyes with his hair sticking in every direction. Fuck, he was asleep. It made it so much worse delivering the news.

“Heyyy, boss,” you beamed, voice raising a few octaves. You held out the script to him, cringing slightly. “Nothing too crazy, just a sliight chan-”

“No,” the door slammed in your face, your eyes closing as the bright reflection shone on you. Your smile immediately dropped, the reflection of your face on the white aluminum door looking back at you.

Red seethed through you, frustration prickling at the back of your neck. You knocked again, this day becoming even longer with each passing second.

“Mr. Harrington.” You were met with silence, ear pressing to the door to hear any movement. You waited a beat, knocking more urgently.

“Don’t want it, tell them no,” he grumbled behind the door, his voice sounded across the trailer, muffled through the closed door.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the patience to not go off on him. You were his assistant, not his agent, not the director of the film, not anything else. What did he realistically think you were going to do about a script change?

“‘M just delivering it, Mr. Harrington.” Your voice was level. “I don’t even think it’s your lines that changed.”

A faint note of music came through the door, Steve deciding to tune you out. Looking towards the sky, you squinted, finding prayer between the clouds.

“Mr. Harrington!”

Another PA walked by you, speaking into the earpiece she had with a clipboard in hand. You raised a hand to greet her, faux smile crossing your lips as you pretended everything was okay. She waved back, making her way in between the trailers and out of your eyesight.

As soon as she disappeared, your fist came up to bang at the door, louder than before.

It opened in the middle of your fit, you nearly stumbled into the trailer. You cut your eyes at your boss, biting your tongue at the swear words that threatened to come out.

The man was well past 30 years old, but still acted like a spoiled brat.

“Fine,” he said through his teeth, grabbing the stack of papers from your hand. He barely glanced at it before tossing it on the small couch behind him. Your eyes followed it, noticing the mess of bottles on the floor around it.

He followed your gaze with his own eyes, stepping into your eyesight as he closed the door slightly.

“Anything else, Yn?” A pinch of attitude at your name. Typical.

You smiled at the man, frustration disappearing as you were just grateful this episode of his didn’t last as long as it did last week.

“No, sir, that would be it for me,” you gave him a slightly bow, clasping your hands in front of you before swiveling on your heel. Descending the mini set of stairs, you rolled your eyes, back to him as you descended. “Fucking twat.”

“I heard that!” His voice was far behind you, your feet moving fast across the blacktops. You smiled back at him, waving as confusion crossed your features.

“Sorry sir, I said it was fucking hot!” You lied straight through your teeth. “Outside, you know? Pardon my language.”

You rolled your eyes once more, turning back on your mission to get back inside the building. You and him both knew what you said, but you didn’t have it in you to care. Nothing you did would get you fired, trust, have you tried.

It was like you were in your own personal Purgatory. You assumed Steve liked you, he wouldn’t fire you even on your worst days. You had fucked up many times, forgetting things, slipping up on his to do list, calling the wrong people for the wrong events. More recently, he had heard the rude nicknames you had for him, and he just didn’t seem to care.

You had heard him one time, whisper under his breath about “best help in Hollywood”. It was sarcastic of course, his eye roll you’ve been well acquainted with to follow.

The last few weeks have been more of a hell for you, Steve becoming more temperamental and moody, you becoming the worst employee on planet Earth. You begged to be fired at this point, your shot at unemployment looking more and more appetizing.

A sudden ring cut through the air, your back pocket buzzing. Pulling it out, you nearly ripped your hair out, Steve’s contact popping up on the screen. I could ignore it, you thought. This could finally be my chance at escaping him.

Your thoughts were cut short, the phone ringing again as Steve's name popped up. He didn't even let the first one finish before trying you again.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington," you breathed, hand pressed into your brow as you answered. "Hi, sorry, sir. Did you need me?"

"Need you to come back," you heard him say, voice muffled as he seemed to be doing other things on the other side of the line. Your feet responded before your brain did, autopilot in motion. "Script's not fucking working, and I just-"

Something fell in the background, and your footsteps faltered. You ignored it, rolling your eyes yet again at his antics.

"Are you okay, sir?" You asked, seeing his trailer in the distance. One of the trailer windows had its blinds half up, he paced back and forth.

You approached it, listening to him as he rambled on the phone, speaking about how much he hated this director and his damn agent for giving him these roles. Fighting back laughter, you cosigned with him, not choosing to mention that this stupid role was worth $13 million.

You raised your fist to knock at the door, it swinging open before you could even make a noise. The three dial tones of the phone call ending rung in your ears, Steve grumbling at you to enter.

"A-are you sure, sir?" Hesitation filled you, you weren't used to stepping into his trailer. You think you'd been in it once during the last seven months of production, grabbing his left behind cell phone before they traveled to location.

Steve didn't look at you the whole time, just muttering words under his breath as he held the brand new scripts in his hand. He was pacing, feet burning holes in the carpet of the trailer.

You slowly stepped in, apprehensively closing the door behind you. Hands clasped in front of you, you stood in close proximity to the door, eyes shifting over the large trailer.

He had clothes thrown over one end of the vehicle, previous scripts sitting on the makeshift table, and a half full glass of a dark colored liquid next to it. You eyed it, brow furrowing as you swore this man had been sober for the past few years--or at least, that's what the news outlets said about him. Not like you kept up.

"Sir," you interjected his thoughts, causing him to stop in place. He still didn't look at you. "Why am I here?"

Curt answers were the easiest way for you to pretend to be nice to him. You knew you couldn't be outright rude, this was your boss after all. Saying stuff under your breath and if he accidentally heard was another thing.

He ignored you.

"How is this supposed to be the Oscar nomination when they have me acting like this?" He exhaled a small shout at the end of his words, your eyes squinting at the volume. "Does this make sense to you? It's like they want me to make a fool of myself, no?"

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor. "I'm not sure how you want me to answer that, sir."

He waited a moment, sighing loudly as he collapsed on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. You looked at him then, seeing the way his chest heaved as he shook his eyes. The sun was setting now, golden hour lighting inching through the windows over his figure. His bed head was still wild, even more messy than it was previously.

"W-what would you like me to do, sir?" You asked, arms crossing over your chest as you felt the awkwardness creep into the air. This was the longest you had been in a room with him, at least, with no one around.

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you took note of your 'shift' being almost over. It was a quarter to seven, your freedom lingering in the distance.

"Sir?"

"Enough!" He cut out, breaking his silence. You jumped at the words, ducking your head as his outburst came. This was the Steve you knew, the short tempered boss who was always so moody whenever things didn't go his way.

You opted for silence, not daring to speak as you awaited his next choice of words.

His arm left his face, palm running down his features as he stared into the ceiling of the trailer.

"Sorry, I just," his voice was significantly lower. He sat up on the edge of the couch, his palms resting on his thighs. "I just need you to take me home."

Your eyes closed briefly, irritation quickly crossing you as you realized this was going to be a longer day than you imagined. If Steve had needed you longer than you were scheduled, then so be it.

"Why?" The word wasn't supposed to come out, replacing the 'okay' that sat on the edge of your mouth.

His gaze cut to you quickly, searching your face as you stood there. Eyes burning slightly, you felt tears prickling. The pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and Friends rerun marathon looking further away from you could bring you to tears.

"Because I employ you, do I not?" The harshness in his words did nothing but fuel the 'Hollywood Tell All' feature you planned for the day you quit.

"You do, sir, yes," You muttered, hands dropping to your side in defeat. "I just thought you'd drive yourself like normal. You know, day ends, and I'll see you here the next day, eight sharp like normal."

"I can't--no," he answered, standing up as he gathered his things. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You just need to take me home. You can drive my car."

The words to protest him were lost in your throat. You complied with his actions, eyes to the floor as he finished gathering his things. Following him out of the trailer, you sighed, feeling like you were walking into a lion's den.

The walk to the private lot was silent, Steve grumbling to himself as he texted someone on his phone. You noticed his phone ringing several times, his thumb finding the red button to end it each time. Curse words came out of his mouth every few seconds, a few from your own mouth being added to the mix as you thought of ways to leave.

As the two of you came across an old school beemer sitting deep in the parking lot, he threw the keys at you, settling into the passenger seat. Reluctantly, you slide in the driver's seat, feeling the leather interior beneath your fingers.

"Nice car, boss," You whispered, checking out how the car didn't even look a day out of 1985. Steve side eyed you, nodding at the compliment before returning to his phone.

"Get us there in one piece, yeah?"

You sucked your teeth as his comment, shaking your head before starting the car. It was like it was impossible for him to be a decent person. Here you were, doing something for this man which may or may not be in your contract, and he couldn't even say thank you to a compliment about his car.

The ride was silent save for an old tape that played in the car. Some band from the 80's you noted, a little too old for your taste. Steve's fingers tapped away at his phone, not focused on the LA traffic you sat in for most of the drive. He gave you directions to his swanky high rise, ignored you as you struggled to keep up with him.

You pulled into an underground garage, valet men coming immediately, opening the door for you as they took the keys. Everything happened in such fast motion, you barely noticed he was half way to the elevator. Jogging to catch up with him, you turned your own attention to your phone, thumb hovering over the Uber app.

Steve took a call, fingers rapidly pressing the elevator button as he spoke (yelled) at the person on the other end.

"No, Robin, I'm not doing that, okay?" He said, voice gruff as he glanced at you. You heard the static voice of the person on the other line, seeming to be yelling at him too.

The elevator dinged, the two of your bodies stepping in as the doors opened. The transportation app on your phone lagged, loading bar stagnant on your screen.

"No, I get it, it's been years. Fine, I-" Steve groaned in frustration, eyes repeatedly shifting over to you as you tried to tune out the phone call. You stared at the numbers the elevator passed, the first floor blinking by before you could say anything. Your phone remain in your hand, screen dimming as it began to time out.

"Robin. I know."

The voice on the other line picked up, the woman's voice growing even louder. Steve pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, grimacing at the volume. The elevator stopped at a floor labeled 'P', doors opening to a mini lobby that ended in double doors. He went over to unlock them, key fob in his hands as a beep sounded through the empty room.

As he stepped through them, phone balanced on his shoulder with his ear pressed to it, he looked at you. You stood right outside the elevator, doors closing behind you as you didn't know what to do.

He held open his front door, hand waving at you in frustration. "Well, are you coming in?"

You pressed your lips together, another wave of irritation pulling at your teeth. Eyes half rolling, you nodded, entering the doors as he closed and locked it behind you.

Steve moved fast, throwing his jacket over a couch that lay in the middle of the giant room, toeing off his shoes by its side. You stood in place, not sure what to do as your boss made his way around his home.

You took note of the place, not picturing that he would live in a place like this. It was modern, with a touch of old school fashion. Retro furniture, expensive nonetheless. Floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the city. However, not a touch of life, no personal pictures, no sign of family, or anything personal that may shine light on what type of person he truly was.

You stepped in further to the place, watching as Steve made his way to a cabinet in his kitchen. Observing him over the breakfast bar, you saw into the open kitchen, watched him as he grabbed a rocks glass and a bottle of something pushed far back into a cabinet.

He continued on the phone, placing it on speaker as he began to open the bottle. He struggled at first, face turning up as his hands twisted on the cap.

Slowly making your way around the room, you glanced around, expecting him to yell at you for even being here, despite inviting you in.

"Steve," you heard the voice on the other line say. His eyes drifted towards the phone, pouring a hefty shot. "All I'm saying is, I miss you. And care for you. I love you. I want you to be okay today, alright?"

Steve grunted in response, not noticing your proximity to him. You cleared your throat slightly, wanting to gain his attention.

The woman on the phone waited for more of a response. Once it was clear she wasn't going to get one, she sighed. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us."

"Yeah sure," his tone was rude, eyes boring into the glass of dark liquid that sat in front of him. His fingers danced at the rim.

"Eddie would've wanted you to come."

Steve's body language immediately stiffened, finger moving to hang up the phone before throwing back the shot of liquor. His face grimaced at the taste, slamming the glass back on the table.

You didn't know what to say, looking anywhere but at your boss.

"Fuck, I forgot you were even here," he suddenly said, hand running through his hair. His hand was on his hip, eyes glossy as he looked at you. You chewed at your bottom lip, nodding as he stared at you. He pointed to the alcohol, shrugging. "Drink?"

Declining, your head shook. "I don't drink, sir."

"Ahh," he said, grabbing the glass and bottle as he headed towards the couch. "Good girl."

He threw himself down on the furniture, exhaling loudly as he stretched out. His eyes were closed as you stood across the room.

"Hey, I-I think I'm gonna go," you said, beginning to walk towards the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As you crossed the room, Steve's voice called out to you. Your movements stopped, turning on your heel to look at him.

"Stay?" He asked you, eyes huge as they looked in your direction. You took note of his features, blinking at him as he awaited your response. Your boss was approaching his 40's, however, in this moment, he looked just like a little kid. Pictures of him in his teen years you had seen on the Internet were pushed to the forefront of your mind.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Harrington," you muttered, wanting to leave the scene.

His eyes fell to the floor briefly before he spoke out, "Steve."

"Huh?" You were confused, this sudden change in his attitude.

"You can call me Steve," he said, shifting his body as he relaxed into the couch. "We've known each other for a few years now, figured we should might as well be on a first name basis."

Fighting back the eye roll, you were reminded in the ways your boss had made your life into chaos.

"I bet you a million dollars, you don't even know my name, sir."

His gaze softened, laughing out loud as your hard exterior slowly came back.

"Yn." He muttered, smile dancing at his mouth.

You didn't know what to say, stuck between dashing out of his apartment or staying and seeing what type of Steve Harrington you were going to get today.

"I figure I should apologize for the way I've acted today," he said, turning forward as his gaze left your way. You didn't know why, but your feet followed it, walking closer so you could sit next to him. Lowering your self on the couch, you felt self conscious, like he was going to snap any second.

You snorted, "Today?"

He was staring at the bottle of alcohol in front of him, smile still on his face. Laughing at your comment, he shrugged.

"I have been a dick, haven't I?" He whispered, shaking his head as the smile slowly dropped from his face. His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes unfocused as he stared in front of himself. "Such a fucking dick."

You didn't know why, but you felt the need to comfort the man. He was clearly going through something at the moment, if the look alone on his face was any tell.

"Hey, not too bad of one," you wanted to reach out to grab him.

"Don't lie," he laughed, head turning your way. His eyes met yours, deep brown staring into the color of yours. You noticed moles dotting his face, slight lines of aging covering his features. He was still youthful, his eyes telling the tale of a once young boy who was within. "I've been terrible. And you don't deserve that."

A pang hit your heart, feeling the weight of his words. You didn't really deserve his treatment. No matter if he paid you or not.

He continued his words, eyes staring past you. "And yet here I am, sitting here with my assistant. Drinking for the first time in years." A laugh bubbled out of him, hands running down his face as he leaned further back into the couch. "You know I'm supposed to be in Indiana right now?"

You shook your head, not wanting to interrupt him. Making yourself comfortable, you took off your shoes, slipping your feet underneath yourself.

"Well, I'm supposed to be in Indiana, it's the 20th anniversary of, uhm," his voice cracked, eyes welling up with a tear that was blinked back. "It's the anniversary of one of my friend's dying, and I'm not there."

Breath catching in your throat, you didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, sir," you muttered, hand reaching out to rest at his thigh. The touch was inappropriate, but so was this interaction you could say.

He looked down at your hand, watching your thumb as it brushed over his jeans.

"It's okay," he responded, eyes finding yours again. "It's been so long."

You nodded, eyes scanning his face as he forced the corners of his mouth to be turned into a smile. You saw right through it, recognizing the pain of a lost loved one straight through. "I don't think that matters."

His face dropped, sincerity crossing his features as he dipped to glance at your hand once more. Silence over took the two of you, the faint sounds of the streets of LA below you, Steve's staggered breathing as he willed himself not to cry. You were patient, finding comfort in the air as he found his words.

"We were all so young, and it feels so long ago, almost like it doesn't exist anymore," he finally said, voice even. "But I know it does. I just have to face it, I've been running from it ever since it happened."

He gestured to his surroundings, and the puzzle clicked into place. This fame and jerk persona that Steve carried himself in, hid the real him. He ran from all of his problems, like anyone else would, especially when dealing with something as traumatic like he had.

You didn't know the details, didn't care to ask, since it seemed to affect him so much. All you knew was that person who had passed so long ago did matter to him, in ways that you couldn't imagine.

Letting him continue his mumblings about the person he used to know, you found out that his name had been Eddie, the one you heard on the phone before. Robin, long time best friend of his, was trying to get him to come out to reconnect with everyone, he hadn't seen much of them since the 'accident', as he had called it. He kept in touch with everyone over the phone, but seeing them in person was a whole different story. It opened up old wounds that he was afraid of what it might bring out.

The story was slightly confusing, him mentioning something about how they all had nearly lost their lives, details that would leave you wondering what this man had gone through. None of this information was available about him in the public, his childhood always being a vague story that never connected.

"So you have kids then?" You questioned, confused on how you never picked up on this detail. There had to have been at least five of them, names you had never heard before now.

Steve laughed suddenly, shaking his head as his hand rested on your own thigh. The two of you were much closer now, as his story unfolded. Your thighs were touching, each other's hands on resting upon each other, mere inches away from your faces.

"No, I don't have any. I guess, I should stop calling them kids now, you know?" His laugh was low in his throat. "They have kids of their own at this point, so they're far from it."

"Oh..." You were dumbfounded, all of this information being at a loss to you. You weren't here to understand, just here to listen.

"You know what, I'm sorry," he suddenly said, removing his hand from your leg. You wanted to whine at the absence, cold replacing his warm touch. "Maybe you should go, actually. This is pretty, uhm..."

"Unprofessional?" You supplied, inching closer as your boss sat there, wide eyed looking at you. In the dark light of his apartment, you could see the way his brown eyes glimmered at you. "I guess we're even then, me calling you a twat earlier."

Steve cackled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought of the events earlier.

"I knew you said that!"

You blushed, fighting back your own smile.

"It's not my fault, you were acting like one." Your lips pursed together, observing the older man in front of you.

Silence crept over you, the first break in conversation since his phone call ended earlier. Steve stared at you, eyes darting over your features as his teeth scraped over his bottom lip. You felt shy under his gaze, not knowing what to think of the moment as your boss was closer in proximity than he had ever been in your life.

"Can I make it up to you?"

His voice was low, and you were nodding before you even knew what he meant. Grabbing your cheek in his hand, the man leaned forward, capturing your lips into his. The gasp in your throat was lost in his mouth, a shuttering moan coming out instead.

His lips were soft, slightly chapped as they moved against yours. Fluttering your eyes closed, you leaned into the kiss, moving your hand so it rest at the curve of his hip, belt loop curling in your fingers.

He tasted of whiskey, the remnants of the few shots he had earlier lingering on his tongue. Steve pulled away slightly, muttering, "This okay?" against your lips as you nodded, pulling him in by his hair with your other hand.

Your breath grew more shallow as the kiss continued, leaning back as Steve began to tower over you. He shifted in his seat, covering your body with his own as he began to push you back into the couch. His figure was large over yours, scent of vanilla and cedar nearly suffocating you.

With your back flush against the couch, Steve removed himself from your lips, pressing a slight kiss against your jaw. You arched into the touch, palms running over the tight muscle of his back.

"S-steve," you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips kissed over your neck. Each press of his mouth sent fireworks down your spine.

He returned his lips to yours, moving with a passion that was lacking previously, confidence replacing the apprehension he once felt.

Your legs spread, inviting him to nestle in between, the thick material of his jeans rubbing against your own. A bulge was present, the thought of what lay underneath sending goosebumps over your skin.

Steve was lost in the kiss, his mouth nipping at yours as he reached down to unbutton your pants, slipping a hand to run over the front of your panties.

"W-wait," you muttered, grabbing his wrist as you pulled away from the kiss. He was confused, mouth red and swollen. His fingers pressed at your covered clit, a small shot of pleasure running through you.

"What's wrong, Yn?" The hand connected to his elbow that propped him up, ran through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. Concern crossed his features, searching your face as doubt crossed it.

"I just, uhh," you felt shy, avoiding his eye contact as the words stumbled out. "I've never really done this before?"

His eyes bulged out, sitting up suddenly as he leaned over you. Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you pressed the palm of your hand to your forehead. Way to ruin the moment.

"Oh," he breathed, eyes wide as he scanned you. "We don't-- fuck, sorry. I'm so, uh, wow."

He stood up suddenly, leaving you laying on your back as embarrassment colored your cheeks. You didn't know what to say as the older man panicked.

"Maybe, uh, maybe this was a bad idea," he shook his head, hand reaching down to palm at the front of his pants. Your eyes followed his hand, noticing the prominent bulge.

You spoke out, shaking your head as you didn't make any effort to move. The turn of events tonight made you realize how much you did want the man who stood before you.

"No, we can, it's okay," you said, reaching out to grab his hand that hung by his side. He looked down at your grasp before bringing his eyes to meet yours. "It's alright."

He hesitated, sputtering over something to say.

"Steve, it's okay," you pulled him down, his knees straddling the sides of your hips as he reluctantly settled into the couch. His eyes ran over your body, lingering at the spot where your pants were unbuttoned, cotton panties exposed.

"A-are you sure?" He questioned, moving to lean back down over you. You nodded, leaning up on your elbows to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip.

A breathy moan escaped your mouth, palm caressing the front of his shirt.

"I want to, it's fine."

You knew it was now or never, this moment with your boss being an opportunity that you couldn't have passed up. You always had a crush on him growing up, the face of Hollywood you would see in your teen magazines, posters covering the room of your friends. Working for him would've never had you imagining that it would lead to this moment.

Steve took control of the situation, kissing down your neck as his hand returned between your legs, pants thrown across the room somewhere. It had happened so fast, you barely noticed the cool air that pulled goosebumps from your skin.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?" He muttered, freshly shaved stubble prickling against your chin. You could barely get out a moan as your underwear was pulled down your legs, catching at the crook of your ankles.

You felt his fingers brush over your folds, pressing lightly at the slick entrance. His thumb rubbed in small circles over your small bundle of nerves, an eye-rolling feeling that spread your legs apart. His fingers pushed inside, his own moan coming out over yours.

The feeling of the intrusion had you panting, spreading your legs wider while his thick fingers worked you.

"M-more," you begged, throwing your head back as his fingers found a rhythm. He stretched you out over two fingers at this point, thumb collecting slick as it rubbed over your clit.

Steve's fingers curled inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot deep inside. The look on his face was one of admiration, mouth slack as he looked down at you falling apart under his touch.

"That's okay?" His voice was husky, deep with arousal as your hips began to move in time with his fingers. Your orgasm was approaching, hips moving on their own accord as you chased that high.

"God, yes, Steve."

Pushing your shirt up past your bra, Steve gaped at the sight before him, your fingers dipping inside your bra to toy at your own breasts.

"You look so perfect, angel," he muttered, leaning down to capture your lips into his as you fell apart. That white blinding of your orgasm crept in, starting at the base of your spine and blossoming through your entire body. Against his mouth, you shouted out, squeezing your eyes shut as he fingered you through the high.

It took a minute for you to catch your breath, legs spasming from the shocks of the orgasm. You hissed at the over stimulation, Steve pressing into your clit one last time before removing himself from you.

You felt shy suddenly, the haze from the orgasm clearing as you realized you had just done unimaginable things with your boss. Seeming to read your mind, Steve pressed small kisses around the perimeter of your face.

"It's alright," he said, hovering over you. Against your thigh, you could feel his bulge rub against you. "How are you feeling, good?"

You nodded, words at a loss in your throat. You reached up to place a hand on his neck, the other at his waist as you played with the hem of his shirt. His eyes fluttered close briefly before glancing down at where you were slightly tugging his shirt up.

He made eye contact with you, chewing on his bottom lip. "I need words, angel. Gotta make sure everything is 100% okay, okay?"

"I'm alright, Steve," you gasped, looking down where your own hand rubbed at the exposed part of his abdomen. You needed more, wanted to feel him all over you. You began to pull his shirt over his body, watching as he glanced down at you with hooded eyes. "Just need more of you."

He slowly nodded, sitting back on his knees as he unbuttoned his own pants and slid them down his legs. You giggled at him as he struggled to get them off, the smoothness he had previously disappearing as he nearly toppled off the couch.

You pulled your own shirt and bra off of you, dropping them on the floor next to the couch. "Nice own, old man," you laughed, returning to your spot against the couch.

He frowned at you, lip jutting out in an over exaggerated pout. "Heeyy, I still got it."

You were left breathless, the laughter disappearing at the tip of your tongue as his figure returned to cover your body. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, the wetness pooling at the head leaving you gasping.

Steve reached down to rub his cock against the length of your cunt, spreading the slick all over as you arched into him.

"Fuuckk, Steve." You hooked your ankle over his hip, warmness pooling in your belly at the thought of him being inside you. His eyes raked over you, lingering on your nipples as they shook with each moan you gave.

"You sure about this, Yn?" He asked, leaning down to dart his tongue over the skin of your breast. It sent shivers down your spine, another wave of heat rushing to your core. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret."

"'M not gonna regret this," you gasped, feeling the way the head of his cock slightly pushed at you. It burned, fuck, he was big.

The slight intrusion had you gripping at his back, leaving crescent moon marks in the skin. Your breath came out ragged, a whine scratching at the back of your throat.

Steve grunted at you, pushing in slowly as he buried his head into your shoulder. He stopped every few inches, hips stuttering slightly as he fought back to urge to fuck back into you full force.

Being an all new feeling, you couldn't help but mewl at every burn of the stretch, a fullness you had never experienced before.

He pressed to the hilt, hips flush against yours as Steve gasped for air in tune with you. He pulled his head back to make eye contact with you, forehead resting against yours. You felt the slight grinding of his hips against yours, the fullness becoming too much as you were stretched over him.

"You gotta bare with me, baby." The nickname had you moaning, fingers reaching down to dig at the plumpness of his ass. You could barely keep your eyes open, senses overwhelmed with Steve. "'S been a while for me."

Nodding, you gasped as he reared his hips back before they stuttered into you again. The movement sent a wave of slick between your thighs again, pleasure blinding you.

He found his rhythm, hips fucking into you slowly, languidly as you fell apart beneath him. You rocked with every movement of his hips, hands running over the tan skin of his body above you.

Finding his lips, you moaned against his mouth, savoring the feeling that was building up in your abdomen as the two of you moved in sync.

Steve gave you words of affirmation, hips drilling into you over and over as his cock brushed over your deep bundle of nerves. Bliss approached you once more, wetness dripping all over him as you were brought to that high again.

"Gonna cum, Steve," you whispered against his mouth, back arching into him. He reached down between you, fingers toying at your clit as they began to rub in small circles.

"Cum for me baby," he breathed, voice low as your eyes rolled back. His voice brought you over the edge, high shout escaping your lips as that pleasure took over you again.

As he fucked your through your orgasm, his own approached, hips losing their rhythm as you felt his release deep inside you. A low groan of his came out, a breathy fuck being the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes.

Your body felt light, head foggy as you came down from your orgasm. It was pure bliss what you felt, heart pounding in your chest as sleep took over you.

You shot out of bed, frantically searching for your phone as you realized the sun was creeping through the curtains. Crisp, white sheets were pooled around you, swallowing you up whole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, trying to search for your device in the darkness of the room. The dark curtains were drawn, only allowing a sliver of light in, but enough for you to realize how late in the morning it was.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, anxiety crept over you, realizing you weren't in your room. A tossing figure lay next to you, his body half covered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In that moment, everything from last night came crashing back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

"Hey, Yn, what's wrong?" Steve's voice was groggy, as he blinked in the darkness of the room. He glanced towards the curtains and then to you, noticing the way you covered your frame with the corner of the sheet.

"What time is it?" You half shouted, looking on the bedside table for your phone. Steve was no help, slowly stretching out his limbs as he yawned.

"Too fucking early for you to be that loud," he muttered, sitting up on his elbows. The sheet pooled around his waist, exposing his bare abdomen and a deep V that cut below his waist.

You quickly looked away, blush deepening on your face. "We have to go, Ste-Mr. Harrington. We're gonna be in so much trouble."

You heard him chuckle at you, sighing as he relaxed once again in the bed. His arms circled your waist, pulling you down into him as you continued to panic. He lay behind you, your head resting on his chest as he buried his face into your shoulder.

"Shhh," he whispered, tightening his grip on your waist. "Called in today, came down with something apparently."

You shook your head, resting your hands on his where they rested on your stomach. "Can you even do that?"

"What are they gonna do? Fire me?" He laughed, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. The anxiety that built up in your spine disappeared at his touch, the familiarity of his body replacing it. You turned in his arms, now chest to chest with the man.

His eyes were closed, sleepiness still evident over his features.

"Are you going to fire me?" You whispered at him, watching as his brow furrowed before he squinted open his eyes at you.

"What? No, what are you talking about?" He seemed genuinely confused at your question, hand rubbing at your waist. Relief took stake in your chest.

"I slept with my boss last night," you laughed at yourself, voice dropping even lower as you saw a smirk cross his face. He was smug, shaking his head with laughter as you playfully slapped at his chest.

"Pretty sure I'm the one with a lawsuit pending if anything," he said, laughter dying as you placed a small peck to his lips.

As you pulled away, he leaned into it further, tongue darting out to lick at yours. A wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach.

He towered over you, mouth nipping at you as you sighed into the kiss. The two of you moved in sync, you moving onto your back as Steve leaned over your figure. A breathy moan escaped your lips, only to be cut off by his phone ringing.

"For fuck's sake," he grumbled, separating himself from you as he reached for it on his side of the bed. He answered it quickly, realizing it was his publicist as he placed it on speaker. "What d'you need, man?"

His lips returned to yours briefly, before kissing down your neck. The sheets were slowly pulled off of you as he made his way down, nipping at your chest, then your nipple, and soft kisses pressed to your stomach.

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, trying to stay as quiet as possible as his publicist droned on about some appearance he had to make in the next week. Steve was staring up at you, making small confirmation 'mhm's' in response to the phone call. A coy smile was on the corners of your mouth as you looked down at him wide eyed.

'Stop' you mouthed through gritted teeth. He nipped at your hip bone in protest, shaking his head at you.

You couldn't tell if it was Steve's mouth pressing to your heat or the next word's of his publicist that made your stomach drop.

"While we're at it, Steve, how about we talk how Page Six has pictures of you with a mysterious somebody in your apartment building?" They grumbled, voice staticy as it came through the phone. You felt Steve smirk against you, tongue lapping between your legs. "Aren't we a little too old to bring people back to your own place like that?"

A moan escaped you as you gripped at his hair. Steve looked up at you, wide eyed as he reached up to slap a hand across your mouth. 'Shhh', he mouthed, his own laugh threatening to spill out as his publicist's voice faltered at the noise.

"St-steve?" It said, apprehension in the tone. "Are you doing what I think you're doing? Really, man?"

Steve laughed as his hand remained over your mouth, muffling the sounds of your own laughter. They would recognize it if they heard it. He grabbed the phone from where it lay abandon, speaking into it as his thumb hovered the 'end call'.

"Something came up, gotta take care of it," he grimaced at you as you licked his hand. "Bye!"

He hung up right as the voice protested, tossing his phone aside as he leaned over you once again. His long hair hung in his face, eyes raking over your naked body.

"Now... where were we?"

an: I had to sneak in a line from All of Us Strangers because that movie was so moving. If you know, you know. I promise one of these days, I won't make Steve an asshole right off the bat, he'll be lovable.

masterlist. inbox and requests are open!

[reallyromealone]

Rome you know I'm gonna need a part 2 to that zoro x reader x sanji right cause I can't let that slide😊

Title: goodbye love

Fandom: one piece

Characters: Zoro, Sanji

Fic type: angst

Pairings: Zoro x sanji

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, aggressive conversation, sad reader

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(name) hummed as he stocked bread in a small bakery, it had been five months since he left and he felt lighter and happier since the breakup. He was far from the island they docked from, getting a job easily at a bakery in a small coastal town.

Occasionally he wondered how his now ex boyfriends were, how they reacted to the letter... Were they sad? Angry? Did they even care? (Name) Didn't know and slowly stopped caring. He was starting fresh, leaving the pirate life to have something more domestic and stable though getting used to land was a bit tough.

"(Name), you work too much, go home early" the elderly bakery owner said softly, her cane tapping against the old wood with each step "are you sure? I don't mind being here" (name) asked her, (bakery owner) chuckled as she led him out "the rush is over, not many people will come today"

"Alright, but just get one of the kids to get me if it gets busy"

"Yes yes, now go!"

(Name) Chuckled as he was kicked out of the store, she was old but strong.

'with this extra time, might as well grab some stuff from the market' he thought as he went back to his place to grab some bags and coin, the walk calm and the gulls squawked as they flew overhead, the town was on the side of a huge hill, winding and full of turns, small but popular. It was perfect.

His apartment was small, he was surprised to have a one bedroom, a fireplace for cooking and even a bit of space for seating. His bed was the most expensive thing he owned, he saw it at the market and immediately got it. It was a futon, comfiest thing he ever slept on and he even got pillows. It was pricy but thankfully he had a fair amount of coin from his previous employment.

He only slept on wood or a hammock.

It was a nice adjustment.

The market was the biggest thing beside the town square, many vendors and travellers in and out selling everything and anything one could need.

(Name) Loved getting fruits from other places, one a trip as a treat for himself, today he got something called an apple, typically he's used to mango and jackfruit on this island so it was a nice change.

(Name) Made a few purchases, important house things and a few little trinkets for himself.

A book from a far away land.

An apple.

Some sewing needles and thread as he wished to learn to sew better.

And finally, a little music box.

It was nothing fancy but the sound it played reminded him of childhood, his mother would hum a tune quite similar to it.

What he didn't expect to see was a familiar boat.

"Shit" (name) immediately rushed home, he wasn't ready to face anything at the moment and definitely not with how he left.

(Name) Was shaking as he got inside, glancing out the window of his apartment to see if they are close to his home, irrational be knew but he had to check. Thankfully the street just had a few passersby and no strawhats. He would have to avoid anywhere that sold alcohol for a while, most restaurants and thankfully he was off for the next few days so he didn't have to go to the bakery. (Name) Looked at his collection of books and the sewing supplies and sighed happily.

Guess he has to stay inside and do the things he enjoy.

What a shame.

(Name) Spent the day doing his hobbies as a tiny radio played music in the corner, thankfully this small town had a radio station so he could enjoy some sound.

Knock knock knock.

(Name) Was engrossed in his quilt as he looked up curiously, setting his project down to go down to answer the door, a staircase down to the front door "hello (name), I thought you would enjoy some bread" his boss said kindly and handed him a basket of breads and a few muffins "ah thanks boss, that's real kind of you" the two made small talk casually, the elderly woman happy he's starting a new project "I have some sewing supplies at my home, I'm to old to use them but you can have them" the woman ushered him to follow and (name) realized he would have to leave his house.

Shit.

Silently begrudgingly he followed her, the woman excited to have someone take the supplies.

Then he smelt it half way to the bakery, cigarettes and fresh made food.

"(Name)?" He didn't turn around as his boss looked back curious, Sanji staring at his ex in awe.

(Name) Looked different.

Glowing, lighter and most of all; happier.

(Name) Turned to see his ex and sighed "hello Sanji" this is why he didn't want to go outside, his ex boyfriend looking hurt at the lack of sweet names for him, stopping closer he saw the uncomfortable expression wash over him "Luffy is gone to go get some food, have you.... (Name)" Zoro halted, staring at (name) like salvation.

(Name) Was startled at how awful the two looked, like they barely slept and sanji looked almost dead inside "can we talk?" His voice gravelly with exhaustion and (name) looked to his boss who smiled "we can talk later, you do what you need to do"

And that's how (name) ended up with the two in his apartment "So what do you guys want" (name) said less of a question and more of a demand, clearly uncomfortable "seems you settled down nice" Zoro commented as he looked at the homey space "I have" (name) stared at them unimpressed "why did you leave?" Sanji finally spoke up and the room grew more tense.

"I couldn't stay any longer, not with you two"

"Why?!" Zoro snapped and (name) had enough "because you two didn't care!" (Name) Fired back angrily "you two acted like I didn't exist! Flirting with women and ignoring me to do anything else! Who in their right mind WOULD WANT THAT! DID YOU EVEN LOVE ME?!"

It was silent as (name) heaved out a dog "I gave you two everything! And I get cheating and neglect!"

The two pirates barely had time to react as (name) lost his shit on them "why didn't you love me?" (Name) Finally asked, shaking and angry "why was it never me? You two showed more love to women and fucking swords than me!"

"I-im sorry..." Sanji whispered and (name) looked him in the eye "then why did you look at Nami in a way that you could never look at me?"

Zoro fidgeted, knowing he was next and in a rare moment... He was nervous.

"And why was I not worth spending time with?" There it was "you come here demanding to speak with me yet the time we dated you couldn't even be bothered to do the most basic of things with me"

"(Name)--"" I think you two should leave" (name) finally said "I have no interest in this conversation anymore... Goodbye "

"(Name) Come on-"" leave now, I'm begging you"

The two sorrowfully walk down the stairs, unable to get a word in as the door slammed behind them.

And at that moment they truly realized.

They lost (name).

[storiesforallfandoms]

i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's

word count: 3794

request?: no

description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss

pairing: william afton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.

"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.

"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"

"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."

I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."

How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."

William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.

"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.

"I know."

My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.

He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"

I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.

Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"

"I ran into Afton," I responded.

His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"

"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."

"I warned you that he was here."

I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.

As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.

It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.

The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.

I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."

I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."

"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."

I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."

"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"

I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."

"But I'd do it to help you."

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."

Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.

Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.

It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.

"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."

I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "

"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."

"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."

"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."

I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."

"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."

I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."

William whistled in response. "That's tough."

I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."

Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.

"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."

I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.

"Thank you for helping me," I said.

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."

He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.

~~~~~~

William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.

It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!

But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.

During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.

One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.

I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.

"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.

When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Don't ask," I responded.

"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"

"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.

"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."

"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"

"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."

I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.

"(Y/N)!"

I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"

"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "

"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."

"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."

I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."

"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."

I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."

"Why can't we be adults about this?"

"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."

"What seems to be the problem here?"

I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.

"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."

William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.

"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."

I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"

"Like hell you will."

A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.

"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"

He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."

To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."

Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.

The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "

"Did he hurt you?"

I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.

"What?" I asked.

"Did he do anything to you just then?"

I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."

William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."

"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."

"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?

As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.

William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."

In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.

William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.

"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."

"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.

He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."

"Very much not a dealbreaker."

"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"

I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."

A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."

It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.

I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."

I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."

His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."

In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.

"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.

"I think I can agree to that."

I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."

He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

━━━━╝‘ I bet you think about me ’╚━━━━━

A Denji x Fem!Innocent!Reader | A little fluff + SMUT

Contents ; Innocent reader, pervert Denji (nothing changed), peer pressure, corruption, tons of suggestive innuendos, groping, heavy mention of titties, titty-sucking, PDA, guided handjob, thighjob, pornography, non-stop fucking, and obsessive behavior.

A/N ; MYYYYYY FAVORITE! This dude has been deep in my heart ever since I was introduced into CSM. And now, I place the dude above everyone on my preferred list of characters. Especially cause I relate to the man so much. He’s too careless for his own good at times, BAHAHAHAHAH. Okay, enough of me rambling, appreciate my boy and my fine story by reposting and commenting. Whatever you’re feeling for, little readers.

Dynamic ; Kind of FWB?? to Lovers

Sexual Dynamic ; Dom!Denji | Sub!Fem!Reader

P.O.V ; First & Third

Age range ; 18+

Music suggestion ;

[ Denji’s P.O.V ; ]

Today was supposed to be ordinary. Power talked her ass off most of the morning, I would chime in once in a while to joke, and Aki spouted shit at me for everything and anything I did. That’s how it went on in the apartment we lived in. In the middle of the day, we would head for the headquarters. Go back to the stressful life of a Devil Hunter.

But for me, that was nothing. I was more than happy to return to work. A lot of my co-workers complained on and on, sure you get your hands a little bloody, although most of us didn’t care about the slaughtering. It’s not like they were human. Not including the people that got in my way, that was not my fault!

All I knew is that if it meant I got to be entertained by a girl like Makima and fulfill the desires I’ve been dreaming about, that’s cool with me. And the power from Pochita was a huge plus.

Yeah, it was supposed to be another one of those days. Makima would’ve given me a case to solve had it been. But, instead, I was staring at her from across the room, talking to another girl who I didn’t recognize. Hell, was she beautiful though.

Her silky {H/C} hair looked recently done, styled into a braided half ponytail with bangs in the front. Long lashes framing her {E/C}, sweet eyes; the smile she had was enough for me to tell that she would spoil a man to his heart’s content. When my eyes drifted down her body, especially to her ass, I almost didn’t want to believe it. But, I was so sure of it. She passed Makima’s thickness by at least ten percent.

I bit my tongue and swallowed the build-up of spit before making my way to where they stood, pushing my hands in my pockets so nothing showed if I popped one. Often occurrence, do not recommend.

Keeping my eyes ahead, I tried to remain as respectful as I could be while addressing my boss, “Hey, Makima. And…” As soon as I looked over at the pretty girl, I paused so she could say her name, but at the same time, I was freaking out about how much better her appearance was up close.

My brain couldn’t keep up. She had clean, soft skin with a gradient to her cheeks and lips that made me want to go for kissing them, no hesitation. When she glanced back at me, I couldn’t pry my eyes away from hers, watching her reply to me in admiration, “Oh, my name is {Y/N}. I’ve transferred here from Special Division 7… Nice to meet you! You must be the Chainsaw boy she has been telling me about!” God, even her name fit her perfectly.

Wait. Special Division 7? A stopping record player noise sounded off in my head and I turned to Makima for an explanation. The auburn-haired woman was smirking at me like she found my reaction amusing, as always. She leaned forward from her sitting position, resting her chin on her palm, and introduced {Y/N}’s background, “Say hello to the famed Youth Devil, Denji. She’s a beautiful one, isn’t she?”

The Youth Devil? Oh, I’ve heard about her before. Aki talked about coming across someone from a division that had become the Devil that aged people, yet she apparently had no knowledge of anything outside of ‘safe-for-work territory’. Or whatever the fuck he wanted to label it as. Really, that just meant she has no idea how valuable those titties are and that gives me a high chance of getting a squeeze. Or… more.

My gaze had unconsciously drifted to her chest at the thought of that, the button of her white top barely holding because of its size as I forgot to answer Makima. So, being the Youth Devil included being incredibly busty too? Good to know.

It wasn’t until I heard the clear of her throat that I had snapped back into the present and responded without thinking, “Yeah, she is.” Turning red once I realized what I had been doing right in front of the two women, a bit of worry brimming the back of my mind.

{Y/N}’s face lit up at the compliment rather than furrowed and she was quick to thank me, “Awww, you’re so sweet! Thank you, Denji!” And for a minute, I was stuck wide-eyed, half-expecting a slap across the cheek because I was obviously checking her out. Well, I’ll be fucking damned. I guess what Aki was saying about her was true after all.

Before I could get out a ‘You’re welcome’, Makima interrupted by getting off of the desk she was using as a seat, nonchalantly dismissing herself, “I have some things to attend to, so I’m sorry to say, but I’m taking my leave. I hope you find yourself comfortable with Denji, {Y/N}!”

About to pass me up, her intimidating yellow eyes locked onto mine and she leaned to whisper into my ear, “If you want to play with her so badly, why don’t you make her your new toy? You’re strong, right?” Then she walked off as if she didn’t suggest what she just did. My eyebrows and goosebumps raising at the comment. She was encouraging me to do it?

Chewing on my bottom lip, my breathing slowly got worse as I was left with horrible thoughts and a growing erection. {Y/N} not making it any better because she lingered. Don’t get me wrong, I was fine in hanging out with her. More than fine. But, not with all of this also in mind now.

“What’d she say?” She asked, fluttering those long eyelashes at me, and I didn’t know why but when I looked into her {E/C} eyes again— it was like millions of memories were yanked out of my brain and put in them like a projector. Causing me to take a step back and rub away whatever was happening in startled confusion. What the fuck was that?

I blinked away the rest I could, however, I remembered everything so that didn’t help; coming to a conclusion from the look she gave. My head wasn’t the one messing with me, it was her. Or whatever the hell that fucking power is. And I was not cool with that.

Avoiding eye contact by glaring at the floor, I grumbled, “Was that you?” I wasn’t going to hang around for any longer if she wanted to manipulate my mind, especially if it was concerning something like my past. I didn’t want to be reminded. I came here to escape.

A gasp left her like she was frightened before I saw her in my peripheral vision; raising a hand and putting it on her forehead. She took a moment to answer me in a tired voice, “I was just trying to find out more about you… I got too curious, I’m so sorry.”

Hearing her say that was reassuring and gave me the go to stare at her again, my tone dropping back to that same inviting one from earlier, “Oh, shit.. Well, yeah. I don’t have that great of a life so I wouldn’t pry too far.” I tried to shrug it off, rushing to a solution so it didn’t get awkward, “You want to go get some ice cream or something, gorgeous?” It was a last minute suggestion, but that could work.

The {H/C}-haired girl seemed to be near crying before she nodded slowly, a smile rising on her face as she unexpectedly got close to me and intertwined her fingers in mine. Pulling me off along with her while chiming, “Who doesn’t?! I’d love to!” Easier than I thought. But, I’m not complaining.

──⇌• Switch in P.O.V ; Third •⇋──

On the way to the ice-cream shop, Denji stumbled on a couple of rouge devils with {Y/N} in an alleyway and as fate has it with them, they ended up having to chase them down into a field. Faced with the ugly things combining into a whole bundle of disgusting flesh and faces.

She had solved what they were dealing with as soon as they began merging while he did not. Denji didn’t care for details, he wanted to go straight into shredding. He gripped onto his pull cord and tugged, the chainsaws ripping through his skull and arms. Making the curious girl stay behind and observe how he handled the monstrous creature.

With a rush of adrenaline, the now transformed Chainsaw Devil tore into its body, piece by piece. Blood and guts splattered everywhere onto the ground from the relentlessness he had. Getting onto {Y/N} because of how much had sprayed.

He finished when he wanted to. Raging on the thing until it was nothing but a pile of mush left to pitifully sit in the middle of the empty space it sought out for safety.

Then he retracted his chainsaws back into himself, his skin latching and coming together when he did. Molding back into his handsome, worn face. Like nothing happened. Leaving {Y/N} to blankly gaze at him, soaked in red, and drift down to witness the true wrath of Denji.

No doubt was she intimidated by the boy, seeing for herself what Makima had been commending about him. He was the real deal. A true Devil Hunter.

Wiping off the blood from around her mouth, she began to smile and clap with a giddy cheer, “That was impressive! You’re really good to be able to take out a Devil that easily. How long have you been in the game?”

He raised a brow at how she was phrasing their work, confused that she was asking but deciding to respond anyway, “I guess as soon as I could survive on my own, I’ve been hunting. It’s all I’ve known.” Saying it so casually out loud was weird for him. No one usually asks about this type of stuff. Other than when Makima does. But, here was another girl doing it.

{Y/N}’s face twisted into a look of wonder, twinges of sadness in it as she thought about a young boy having to deal with that kind of stress. It made him charming somehow. She felt the need to praise him for it, “The dedication you have to helping people is inspiring.. I hope to achieve the same goal as you, Denji.” A small appreciative smile was sent his way right after she finished.

Although, his attention was completely misplaced. Guess where; her breasts. He was zoned, an idea coming to him when hearing her instead. “My goal? You could help me achieve that, {Y/N},” the blonde beamed. His brown eyes finally getting off of her chest to address her politely.

She moved forward, innocently egging him on, “Oh, really? How?” The way she peered back at him while waiting, that sweet look never leaving her face once, it gave Denji the confidence he needed to elaborate, “Ever since I’ve been thrown into devil-hunting, I only wanted one thing out of it.”

Walking closer, he leaned to where he almost touched foreheads with her, murmuring the last sentence, “A pretty girl who’d let me fondle her body, whenever, wherever…” He felt guilty after saying it, but the eagerness was too much. There was no way he would pass this chance up.

Thinking to herself, she concluded what he was hinting to and thumbed the bottom of her shirt; lifting it over her head and throwing it to the side like it was something natural. He held his breath at the sudden action, the full view in front of him because she wasn’t wearing a bra. ‘This was quick..! Why is she undressing?!’ Panicked thoughts went rampant as he tried to process what to do, glued to admiring her front half while also confused about what her reasoning for this was.

The {E/C}-eyed girl told him it with the purest intention possible, “You seemed to be interested in my chest so I guessed that this is the part of me you wanted to touch? And I was uncomfortable by the bloody mess. But, sorry if I got it wrong! I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Even though she had no clue on what she was truly doing, she still managed to get it dead on. Making Denji chuckle out of excitement.

His sharp teeth poked out in a snarky grin at {Y/N}, his hand reaching over to palm one of her breasts and squeeze. Most of it filling the cracks of his fingers and fitting perfectly, if not a little bigger. That grin of his widened like he was off of his rocker as he got greedy; grabbing both of them to push them together. They were so soft. So fuckable. He wanted to stick his dick in them so badly.

A whimper slipped past her lips and Denji went from eyeing her breasts to looking at her brushing her hair out of the way for him. Butterflies erupting in his stomach at how considerate she was despite him taking advantage of her obliviousness. All he could do was commend and thank her with a red blush across his cheeks, “Thank you… so much. Fuck, I can’t even believe that you’re real right now. Your boobs are so fucking huge..!”

She would’ve laughed at the comment if his touches weren’t affecting her like this, his fingertips brushing past her nipples to mess with them, the perverted bite to his lip drawing a bit of blood to dribble down his chin. The girl arched into the feeling and moaned softly, struggling to speak, “Hah.. Thanks.! W-Wow! Why does that mm-feel good?”

They were out in the open, but Denji wanted to go for the risk. He didn’t care if anyone came across the two of them fucking like animals, he just wanted to do it. And nothing was going to stop him the moment he could tell that she wanted to do it with him too.

He pushed on what she said, using it as bait, “You want me to make you feel better? I can teach you a couple more things… Something that’d make us feel incredible.” And as she was about to reply, he leveled with one of her breasts and gave a lick to the bud; a squeal leaving her instead.

Repeating himself, he mumbled against her nipple, her breath hitching at his sharp teeth grazing it slightly as he talked, “Keep getting yourself undressed, pretty baby… I want to have some fun with you.” He sounded desperate, {Y/N} falling for it and hooking her fingers on her skirt zipper, unzipping it and letting it fall to the ground.

Denji grunted and wrapped his entire mouth around the bud after that, sucking at it while unbuttoning his pants. Digging in his boxers to tug out his throbbing dick so it was no longer suffocated. He made a fist around his shaft and began jerking off, pre-cum forming around his tip the more he tightened on the veiniest part.

She peeked over the side of him to get a look at what he was doing, holding her legs together when she was beginning to feel something wet between them, entranced at his lower half. It looked satisfying to do and he had mentioned playing so it seemed normal to go for. But, she was in for a surprise because as she attempted to replace his hand, he jolted back and huffed, “Woah, woah… I don’t think you want to get that serious. Who knows what I might do to you if you do…”

Honestly, {Y/N} really loved the sound of everything he was talking about and she didn’t want this to end. She wanted it to go further. Her curiosity wasn’t something to tease, she will figure it out, one way or another. So, she swiftly rushed back in front of him and pressed up against him, resting her chin on his collarbone while she barely rested her fingers on the tip. Begging at him for compliance, “Please, sir… I do want to find out…”

He sucked in some air through his teeth and tensed, almost driven crazy from the pleasure of her contact with him there. It was a noticeable difference between her hand and his dick but he could definitely make it work. And after her asking like that, she was in for a treat.

The brown-eyed boy grabbed her wrist to position her fingers at a better angle before he guided it down his shaft, watching her unable to wrap her whole palm around from how thick he was. He groaned, his own sexual frustrations leaving from his mouth as she got to savor them now.

Eventually, {Y/N} caught onto him pushing her to go faster and sped up her movements as best as she could. Joining her other hand to clasp around his cock to stroke everything rather than a portion. Until he ended up impatient and lifted her up with his arms underneath hers, holding around her ass to move himself in the middle of her legs. Slowly sliding in the correct position; his dick melting in between her pussy and thighs.

Denji lowered her onto him now, grinding their pleasure out while they locked eyes with each other in a half-lidded daze. She moaned vicariously, stuttering some words here and then to emphasize what she was experiencing, “It’s making me feel so… weak! Nnghh-ah ah! Chainsaw.. boy.. wait! I feel so weird..!” His hips began to collide with hers as he increased in speed, closing his eyes to pretend he was fucking into her. He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself out in public though. He had to be reminded about the consequences they could face if they were caught.

She was ignored and sputtered nonsense once she got close, “God! I think… I have to go! I have to go! Stop! I don’t- mmppph.. wanna..! DENJI!” The blonde figured it was because she hadn’t cummed before and knowing that he was the one that was gifting her— her first orgasm— made him spiral in a violent fit of thrusting hard into the folds of her pussy, right against her puffy clit.

Whines yelped out of her as her juices poured all over his length, creating sharper wet sounds and more friction for him. His tip swollen by the time he was close to falling off of the edge of cloud nine with her. Once Denji could feel the rush of his cum trying to spill, he gave a final ram and angled it around her hole to allow it into {Y/N} a little. She trembled in his hold, watching him leave her legs, bruised and messy. Satisfaction written all on his face at what he got away with.

They didn’t even clean up the cum when they went back for the office, deciding to do it a couple of hours later despite both of them feeling the slick in their underwear. Instead, they kept glancing at each other, exchanging a knowing stare until someone interrupted it to talk to either one of them. That sexual tension never stopped fucking with Denji. And {Y/N} was simple-minded as always, in her own little world.

But, she didn’t bat an eye when the boy randomly slipped hands into her shirt one day to get a feel or let her know he was horny by pressing his boner against her ass. He would whisper dirty words to her throughout it, coaxing her into doing things, just for him, “I want to go back to messing with you, babydoll… Can we go inside one of those bathrooms? Need to relieve this.”

{Y/N} would go into the bathroom and he would strip her down like she was a doll, his pants to his knees, her chest resting on the sink and displaying her in front of the mirror. He took her virginity in them. Forcing his cock to slam into her walls, reaching for her guts, all to get lost in her warm pussy. Denji growled loudly, echoing in the tiny room they were locked in while he demanded, “Spread yourself for me. I want to see my dick plunging inside that cute body of yours..!”

Only able to comply, she used both of her hands to pull her ass apart, exposed completely for him to see as he got worse in his constant pounding. Making the poor {Y/N} drool while she twitched in ecstasy, her orgasm running through her for the second time when he wouldn’t quit.

His honey brown eyes seemed so sweet at first, but now they were glaring deep at her expressions, resting into a melted one the second he neared his end. Denji released every drop inside without hesitation, her moans rocking out of her because of him slowing down as he humped it into her.

Then he started over in the same rough pace from before and she endured it as much as she could, her eyebrows knitting up into an exasperated, sweaty look. He was like a dog mating when it came to sex; stamina, aggressive, and having a bunch of cum to dump. {Y/N} was holding onto the sides of the glass counter once he had cummed for a second time, burrowing his cock deep like it was a ritual by now.

And he repeated. Leaving the girl to barely understand what was happening to her from the overstimulation. Denji wasn’t stopping. Even as she screamed for him to, “Fuck! Please! Please, master, I can’t handle anymore!” The pet name he directed her to say a regular word for her at this point.

After his seed was spilling out of her on its own and creating a puddle on the floor, after Denji was dry-cumming and making her unravel onto him like she was throwing a fit off of drugs; that’s when he finally gave up and got off of her. Slipping his dick out and shuddering a couple of words laced with dopamine, “Not so bad for our first hook-up… I don’t know if I want to wait for the others.” Was he hinting at going for more rounds? ‘Dear god..’ was the last thing she could think before she dropped unconscious.

Lil Special Extra // Denji’s P.O.V

Weeks had passed by after me and {Y/N} became a ‘thing’. Hooking up led to a lot more and now she was basically at my apartment almost every day. Sure, Aki and Power were annoyed at her presence, not wanting to hear or see any of the exchanges we gave. But, a man’s gotta live and how can he not without slapping his girlfriend’s ass?

However, there was one downside to her staying over and that was her availability in walking in on me doing lots of inappropriate activities. Whether that was jerking off to her or to… porn.

She bursted into my room late at night after having woken up from a nap in the living room and I was right in the middle of rubbing one out to my favorite fantasy porno. Jumping out of my skin when I heard her shout, “Darling, you miss-! Oh…” The small ‘oh’ quieter than the rest.

My hand and dick glistened with the lube I had saved for times like this, a blush covering my face as I snapped the laptop shut. The sounds of sex disappearing with it.

Anxiety raged through me at how she was going to react, completely forgetting that she barely had a grip on anything sexual until she squeaked out, “What was that? Can I… see?” As soon as I heard that, I quickly dropped the embarrassment and those dirty thoughts snapped back into my usual perverted personality.

Shit, I almost didn’t remember who I was and who she was. Beckoning for her to come sit down on my lap once she closed the door.

{Y/N} straddled me and observed as I opened the screen back up to the lewd scene of a woman being bred just like she had been. Her eyes going wide and a blush crossing her cheeks at the similarity. That innocence of hers was going to be ruined real quick around me. And I loved ruining it. Sliding my fingers down in between her legs like usual so I could welcome her to another sexual addiction I’d use for my benefit.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 1

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Your therapist warned you about superstitious thinking. You've been working on it. In fact, you've been very good at catching it, challenging yourself to relax, and letting things go. Even before this big work trip, you consciously avoided the "unhelpful" rituals and reminded yourself that the little ones were just to make you feel secure, not to actually influence the future across an ocean.

"I'm very nervous," you had told Señor Snuggly two weeks ago. Your worn out stuffed lizard hadn't said anything back, of course. "That's normal, because it’s an international flight. So I'm going to give you a hug good-bye, and you're gonna stay here to watch the house. I know it's not going to change anything, but I'll feel better knowing you're here."

At the airport, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It had satisfied the part of your brain that was looking for one (1) thing to go wrong. Superstitious thinking, but the kind that helped you to relax and listen to music until you boarded.

Now, forced to sit on the floor, surrounded by shouting men with guns, your brain is stuck on your lopsided stuffed animal and blue toothbrush. Of all the things that could pop into your head, why those?

You almost let out a nervous giggle at the mental image of Señor Snuggly using your toothbrush as a shiv to save the day. And then the idea of what would happen if you started laughing right now almost startles you into another burst of giggles. You clap your hands over your mouth and curl into yourself a little bit more.

Next to you, your boss throws you a sympathetic look. "You okay?"

"No talking!" The nearest assailant yells in heavily accented English. You're pretty sure the attackers have been speaking Russian, but you could be mistaken. He brandishes his gun. "You want to die?"

"She needs to go to the restroom," your boss answers.

"No, I don't," you protest. You really, really do, and have for the last two hours. But being escorted out of the room alone seems like enough of a Bad Idea that your bladder can wait.

"No, she does not," the man confirms. "Shut up. Do not talk."

You meet your boss's eyes and try to silently convey, Why are you trying to get me killed?

His doughy face says back, I am a white man who goes to the gym once a week, and I really like the John Wick movies. I have delusions of being a hero. If one man takes you to the bathroom I have the mistaken belief that I can overpower two men with guns to save everyone. Also you're a black woman, so don't you have super powers? I believe in you, queen.

You may be projecting.

Ten minutes later, just as you're wondering if you should suggest a group field trip down the hall to the bathrooms, a series of gunshots rings through the building. The energy in the room goes from nervous to frantic in an instant. Your bladder shuts up. The Russian men start shouting and waving their guns, apparently too agitated to speak English. Two hostages start crying because no one else speaks Russian, just English, French and your half-forgotten, informal, Mexican Spanish.

Another three Russians come bursting in the room, snarling something you can’t understand. They grab at a couple of people, force them to stand at gunpoint and gesture to the rest of you. And then everyone is up and kind of moving in the direction of the door. But you can’t get out of the door because they’re blocking it, but they’re really agitated that the room is still full of hostages. And then some people are being pushed back down to the floor. Your boss ends up sitting back down again. A hard hand closes on your arm before you can get down, and you and four others are dragged out.

The leader says, “You all are dignitaries, yes? Your embassies will send money or they will watch you die.”

This is, potentially, the worst possible scenario. None of the five of you are even remotely important, let alone dignitaries. You’re not 100% sure about most of the others, but you’re an aid. An aid to an aid, really. The blonde woman with the remarkably sharp bob is a personal assistant. Today’s conference was about health data management, of all things.

You decide you’re not going to die with a full bladder. You look to the man holding your arm in an iron grip and point to the upcoming door on the right. “Can I please go to the restroom? I’ll be quick.”

He asks the leader something in Russian, and then you’re being shoved through the bathroom door. He doesn’t follow you into the stall, but it’s still so awkward to pee knowing that there’s a man with a gun waiting for you. You’re so glad you aren’t on your period - opening the wrapper on anything right now would feel louder than it has since middle school.

The door to the restroom opens just as the toilet finishes flushing. You hear a scuffle, an aborted shout, and then something heavy hits the floor. You freeze, heart racing. But then there’s no more sound.

You wait for what feels like an hour but must only be a minute before calling, “H-hello?”

You don’t get an answer. Unlocking the door and easing it open, you peek out and stifle a gasp. The man who had escorted you is on the ground, a pool of blood growing around him. His gun is gone.

You’re halfway through washing your hands before you realize you’re on autopilot.

It takes everything in you to fight down the urge to freeze in place and make yourself inch around the body to the door. When you poke your head out, the hall looks so normal that it makes you dizzy for a second. You try to decide what to do through the anxiety fog. You can’t hide in the bathroom with a dead body, and you probably can’t go back to the big room with everyone without getting shot. You have no idea where the other faux-dignitaries were taken. Apparently, there’s at least one person going around killing people in bathrooms.

You try to think of what your therapist would say in this situation. All of the options feel bad, she would say. So you can’t not do anything because it feels bad. Thank the anxiety for trying to keep you safe, then try to pick the least awful course of action.

“Fight, flight, freeze, fawn,” you whisper to yourself. Fighting is right out. “Flight, freeze, fawn.” There’s a body pouring blood right behind you. “Flight, fawn.” No one is around to appease. “Flight.”

Another gunshot and shouting. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, so you head right.

You shuck off your sensible kitten heels and fervently wish your otherwise sensible pantsuit wasn’t pastel purple in this very beige hallway. Not that a thicker-than-European-average black woman mincing around in a Swiss hotel and conference center would be inconspicuous in a black suit, your mind counters itself. You try to force your brain to shut up, with mixed success.

You wander a good five minutes, reminding yourself not to panic at every locked door you try. The halls are so quiet that you half convince yourself that you’ve gotten out of immediate danger. So of course, right as you’re about the round the next corner, one of the Russians appears, reeling backwards. And then he collapses, a knife sticking out of his neck.

You can’t really worry about that, though, because right after him comes one of the largest men you’ve ever seen. He must catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye, because his head snaps to look at you. You barely register the assault rifle in his hands because his eyes bore into you through the top half of a human skull.

Oh, I’m glad I already peed, you think, staring into the eyes of Death.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” the man says, growls really. “What are you doing here?”

“I… bathroom? Please don’t kill me. I’ll cooperate.” you squeak out. Oh, fawning! Cool.

“Price, I’ve got one of the hostages,” he says, nonsensically. “I’ve cleared the east wing.”

You jump when his walkie-talkie - of course it’s a walkie-talkie - squawks back an “Affirmative. Status?”

“She’s up and walking,” the man says, not taking his eyes from yours. “Seems uninjured.”

“Stow her somewhere safe.”

“Negative,” Death says. Before you can panic because what the fuck does that mean? he says, “Bringing her back with me.”

“Copy.”

When he takes a step toward you, you stop breathing. Everything in you is screaming RUN and DON’T MOVE at the same time. His second step in your direction results in a full body twitch. You get the impression that the gun is pointed at the ground, but the only thing you can really see is bone white over a black mask and what might be really pretty brown eyes, but the shadow from the overhead light really makes it hard to tell and your vision is going a bit darkaroundtheedgesandohI’mstillnotbreathingthat’snotgreat.

You’re shocked into gasping when a gloved palm touches the side of your face. The rough material helps you settle into your body, just in time to start hyperventilating.

And that’s when things get weird, because Death says, “Easy, lovie. Settle, f’ me, yeah? Deep breaths, like we’ve practiced.”

Your brain latches on to the familiar command to settle before you can even question why it’s familiar. The way the man makes a long, low shushing noise makes you so suddenly weak in the knees that you stagger where you stand.

And then it clicks. Holy shit. You know this voice. You know these commands. You’ve been listening to and learning them at least once a week for the last six months. He doesn’t even sound that different from over the phone or on a video call.

“There you go, that’s good,” Simon, the dominant you’ve been seeing online, tells you through his skull mask. “Keep breathin’. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

It’s the second time in your life you’ve been surprised out of a panic attack. “W-what the fuck? Si?” you gasp. “What are you doing here? Did you kill that guy?”

“Questions are gonna have to wait,” he says. “Keep breathing. In for four, hold for two. In for two, out for eight. Can you do that?”

“Why are you in Switzerland?”

“Breathe,” he rumbles. “Settle.”

“No,” you hiss, even as your shoulders relax another fraction. The corners of your eyes start prickling with tears.

“This is a double red light situation,” Si says, staring into your eyes. “I know you’re scared, but I’m going to get you out of here. You trust me?”

“You are wearing a skull on your face.”

“And you’re wearing a purple suit,” he answers. “There are people who want to shoot both of us. You get one more outburst, then you’re breathing and following me. Acknowledge.”

What the fuck? “This isn’t a scene!”

His eyes bore into yours. “Might surprise you, but I’m aware. Acknowledge.”

A distant shout makes you flinch. You relent. “Acknowledged. Four in, hold two, two in, out eight. Follow.”

“Good girl,” he says, patting your cheek once. “Stay behind me.”

[garfunklefield]

What about a Gojo prince x a princess reader and its love at first sight? Then maybe they have some breeding-kink related sex, and perhaps they say I love you?

Whimper Like a Prince!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!princess!reader/prince!Satoru Gojo Warnings: perverted gojo, heavy breeding kink, arranged marriage, creampie, p in v sex, pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, L bomb, gojo will whimper trust, love at first sight, porn with plot or should I say plot with porn :), bathroom masturbation, gojo cums in his pants Word count: 4591 DESC:You and your new husband procreate

Back at it again with the subby gojo

Satoru never thought of himself as a pervert. In fact, he considered himself basically asexual, from how no one had ever interested him. No woman or man ever caught his attention, not even a little bit. There had to be something wrong with him, his parents thought so. They deliberated for days before going to their son and telling him about you. You were supposed to be different. You were supposed to be the perfect woman to marry into the Gojo clan. And you were the one they had signed him off to be married to. 

“Seriously? Not even in a say in my own wedding?” The Prince groaned, throwing his head back and letting white locks flow across his forehead. It was a pain to have to share a room with someone. Become married. All of it. It was a pain! He didn’t want to know anyone, he didn’t want to know you. He couldn't care less if it offended his parents or hurt your feelings; He didn’t want to do it. 

His life was fine! He could do whatever he wanted without a woman bossing him around. This would ruin it. This would make everything all wrong. Satoru said nothing else as his parents continued to lecture about how this would be good for him, a change of pace. How you were calm and reserved and perfect. All that bullshit he was tired of hearing. He didn’t care how perfect or beautiful you were, he didn’t want you. So he declined to see your photos and got up, strolling out of the common room and into one of the hallways. 

What's worse is they didn’t tell him that when he woke up the next morning and got dressed in the white suit they had laid out for him, Satoru was going to be wed. It was a pure white suit, white coat, and white undershirt, paired with white shoes and pants. It was a bit weird, making him look paler than he actually was. He looked like a demon, staring at his own blue eyes in his reflection. Who was that man? Who was the beast before him who was watching with a hungry gaze? A beast who longed to be forever alone. Satoru wasn’t scared of intimacy but he sure as hell didn’t like it. Maybe he avoided it as much as possible, that wasn’t wrong, was it? He didn’t need to be intimate with anyone as long as he had a say in it. So safe to say, he was a virgin. Unless you count fooling around with his best friend, which he didn’t. 

One maid knocked on his door and spoke quietly, saying his parents requested to meet him in the outdoor corridor. Gojo nodded and silently rolled his eyes, praying it wasn’t for scheduling the wedding. What he didn’t know was he was walking into his own wedding. He didn’t pay attention to the loud fanfare outside, it was probably just one of his parent's parties he was being forced to make an appearance at. Whatever, it wasn’t like it affected him in any way to say hi to a few guests. Then he could retreat into his room and hide underneath a blanket until the world disappeared. 

“Toru, honey, in here!” His mother, the queen, called out from a column that lined the huge archway, leading outside. He perked up at the sound of his mother's voice and followed it closely. Although it was hard to hear from all the music and noise, he managed to find her. She was in a long white gown, which didn’t catch him off guard, it was the scene behind her. A wedding. His wedding. Half of the seats were people wearing white, signaling his side of the family. Then the other half wore red, signaling yours. It made sense, his kingdom's colors were blue and white to symbolize a Gojo’s typical eye and hair color. 

His mouth twitched on the edge and slowly hung open, gaping at the scene, “Mom… are you fucking with me right now?” Satoru turned to look at her, with his eyes widening in a newfound rage. He was getting married now!? Now!!! In front of all these people! Oh but the mysterious and perfect you was nowhere to be seen. 

“Now, now… don’t give me that. It’s for the better,” she smiled reassuringly and attempted to put a hand on her son's shoulder blade, to calm him. Instead, he shrugged out of her grasp with a grumble and straightened his suit jacket. There had to be a way to get out of this. There had to be a way to get out of all of this. 

“Introducing!!!” A loud man shouted from a balcony overtop Satoru and his mother, “The crowned prince, Satoru Gojo, and the Queen!” A large spotlight flickered over to the both of them, stopping him in his tracks as he attempted to leave. He stared into the light like a deer caught in headlights unsure what to do. He was fucked. He was totally and utterly fucked. 

He felt his mother nudge his side, with a tense and tight grin upon her frail lips, “You have five seconds to stand straight before I slap you Satoru,” she spoke between her smile. Her son did as he was told and straightened his posture, turning on the perfect mask of a prince who wanted to get married. His eyes turned kind and his smile flashed wide. He looked like the perfect prince about to be wed to some nobody. 

His mother grabbed his hand and pulled him down the aisle, smiling and waving to everyone as she did so. Satoru refused to truly make eye contact with anyone, he didn’t want to exist. He wanted to pretend this was all some fucked up dream he was going to awaken from at any moment. Just getting pinched and sent back into bed was all he wanted. The Queen let go of his hand and signaled him to go on further, standing on the pedestal designated for the two truly participating in this wedding. He didn’t look as the loud man cleared his throat and introduced you by your name, he didn’t care to learn it. But something took over Satoru, maybe it was curiosity or just pure boredom, but he looked over at you. 

And his … his heart stopped. 

You were purely and utterly perfect in every shape of the word. Your face was adorned with jewels and makeup from your homeland, all red. Your hair was the same fiery red, and put up into an intricate style. But he wasn’t looking at that. Your face, your beautiful face. It was unique and something he’d never seen before. Features, that were all different from those of him and his family. Fuck … he liked it a lot. The way your lips jutted out in a regular stance, painted with a deep crimson. Then his eyes trailed down to your chest. 

Satoru never thought of himself as a pervert … until he met you. Your breasts were thick and filled with fat, hanging perfectly against your body. They perked up against your dress in a way that couldn’t have been natural, maybe by a bra of some kind that he couldn’t see. Your dress collar went low, exposing the skin between your breasts. There was something about him he wanted to squeeze and palm until you couldn’t take it. He wanted to rip apart your dress and taste your sweet nipples, feeling you grow wet under his touch. This sudden lust was becoming too much and it didn’t help he took in the rest of your figure. Your stomach lightly jutted out against your tight dress, followed by thick love handles and hips. He caught himself salivating just at the thought of pressing you against the wall and becoming suffocated by the plush, soft skin of your thighs. 

He turned away from staring at you and instead began to worry about the problem brewing in his pants. A very apparent and very erect problem. He was straining against his tight boxers and even tighter slacks, desperately aching for release. He wanted to rip apart his pants and touch himself while watching you stare at him indifferently. He loved it, fuck, he loved you. Was that possible? Was he just so overcome with lust it was blurring the lines of love? Well, he had never felt love before, so maybe it was the same as lust!

You approached him, with an older man on your left. He let go of your hand and let you step onto the pedestal yourself, coming face to face with your future husband. He couldn’t even feign disinterest or boredom, being this close to you was agony. Satoru’s body was purely on fire and he needed you to put it out with your touch. He stared at you, waiting for something to happen. The officiant began to speak her speech, but he heard nothing. All he could do was stare into your wide eyes as you stared into his. Did you feel the same thing as him? Were your souls becoming intertwined with every passing second, or was it just him?

“...Do you take Satoru Gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The officiant asked you, turning your attention away from your future husband. You looked at her, then at Satoru.

Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, “I do.” Your voice. Your fucking voice. He was going to cum in his pants. Your voice was angelic, pure gold sliding into his senses. It was beautiful, you were beautiful! Everything about you was absolutely beautiful.  

“Satoru Gojo do-” The officiant began but she was cut off by Satoru’s abrupt, “I do.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but he didn’t care about that. He wanted to touch you so bad it was starting to hurt him and his cock. He was throbbing and aching for release, aching for you to release him from these chains. All you had to do was just touch his hand or his arm, and he’d find peace. 

“By the power vested in me by the kingdom, I pronounce you two man and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” she cleared her throat, stepping back and motioning to the newlywed couple. Satoru’s heart jumped from his chest to his throat. Kissing? They were going to kiss? Oh no. That was bad. That was going to be very bad. 

He stared at the officiant to you, pressing his lips in a thin line. Well… she did say kiss. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Satoru quickly began to convince himself he’d be fine, which was a mistake. He stepped forward and put two hands against your cheeks, inhaling to take in your warmth. You were the living embodiment of perfection, the soul of beauty, and the goddess of his life. Who cares if you just met two minutes ago?! Love at first sight can exist! Without saying anything else, he gave you a look which you nodded to, signaling you were ready for the kiss. 

Then your two souls became one and your lips pressed together. Annddd he came in his pants. Satoru didn’t mean for it to happen but the pleasure of being so close to you, smelling your scent, and feeling your body warmth. It felt so good, he let himself slip and found himself cumming into his pants from the sensation. Your lips were so soft and glossed up, molding against his in a very G-rated kiss. Although, he wished for more. He wanted to taste your tongue so badly. You pulled away first, staring at him. His face was red with flushed bits of pink scattering his hazy cheeks. His lips were delicately traced with gloss, and his eyes were fogged over. Small panting breaths came out of him as you both looked at each other.

“Did you…” You mumbled, nodding your head in the direction of his pants. 

“...Nu-uh…” Satoru whispered back, pulling back completely and clearing his throat, “BRB for normal reasons now,” he flashed his mother a winning smile and then promptly walked off the podium. It didn’t really matter, as the families had begun to mingle. So no one noticed him slipping out and wandering back to one of the many guest bathrooms in the palace. You watched him walk away with a different look in your eye that he didn’t have time to dissect. 

Satoru had one goal in the bathroom: clean his underwear and not take too long. He dropped his pants and stared at himself in the mirror, he looked like a complete mess. Nothing had ever made him cum like that. Sure he never felt attraction to people but he was a guy! Morning wood is a real issue. He let out a sigh and assessed the damage, pulling off his pants and underwear to begin to properly clean it. But something else took over him as he pulled out a roll of toilet paper. He could just fuck himself to the thought of you in here and no one would know. He could touch himself and think about how you felt against his touch, your plump skin, and your warm lips. 

A hand trailed from the toilet paper down to his growing and twitching cock. It was aching to be touched. His palm covered the tip and then sank, snaking around the shaft. With a small and gentle motion, he began to rub himself off. His hand didn’t feel as good as he knew yours would. Something about your small hands against his cock, taking him and feeling him in the ways he liked. Then your pretty mouth, gagging on his dick. He could practically feel your lips sucking his tip, and your tongue trailing around his urethra hole. It was too much for him and he had just begun to jack off, quickly cumming into his hand. It was a quick wave of pleasure that ran up his length and shot out his tip, into his hand. Satoru let out a shaky moan and kept stroking himself, cumming against the pleasure. 

Fuck he needed you so bad. 

Satoru had no idea you’d be waiting in his room after he got out of the bathroom. His underwear was completely past saving and he needed to change into something less cum filled. When he saw you seated on his bed, two arms crossed against your breasts he gasped. Two brows raised in confusion furrowed a bit, “Wh… Why are you in here?” 

“Did you cum in your pants?” You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him with your same blank stare. He blinked a few times. Oh! So you did notice more than he thought! 

He let out a small laugh and closed the door behind him, locking it subtly as he did so, “Whaaat? Why’d you say that?” 

“I heard you moan when we kissed. You got all … flustered,” you explained, motioning with your hands. As you moved, your breasts bounced against your skin, exposing them to Satoru’s perverted gaze. He was half paying attention and mainly salivating. He wanted to rub his swollen cock on your nipple and feel it harden, then fuck your tits until he came all over them. Then he wanted to grab them until you couldn’t bear it from sensitivity. 

“Why are you in here?” He asked, a low tone taking hold of his voice. You both were married now. It wouldn’t hurt to get more acquainted, would it? And it wouldn’t hurt to be more bold now, would it? Satoru began to approach you, kicking off his shoes and pulling at his white tie, his eyes on you like a predator on his innocent prey. 

“I… wanted to ask if you were okay,” your eyes met his and you bit your bottom lip. Fuck… just like that. He wanted you to bite your lip as he went down on you and fucked your tight cunt with his tongue. He wanted you to cross your eyes as he pumped you full of his kids, of the next generation. God, just the thought began to make him hard all over again. 

“Then why’re you on my bed?” He tilted his head, shrugging off his suit jacket and letting it hit the ground. You swallowed and moved both hands from your sides to rest behind you, stretching yourself back a bit. All for him, huh? He didn’t know you were a little tease. 

“Satoru,” you began but your breath caught in your throat when he was too close. He stood between your slightly spread legs, using his own knee to spread yours a bit more. The tension was so thick he could practically cut it with a knife. He needed you so bad, to run his hands along your fat skin and taste the wetness leaking from your cunt. He knew you were wet, you had to be. There was no way you’d be in this position and not be even the littlest bit aroused. He was aroused, it was obvious from the boner in his pants. 

He breathed out your name and sunk onto his knees, “If you don’t stop me in five seconds, I’m continuing,” one hand ran up your thigh, up your stomach and grabbed hold of your panties, “One,” he pulled at the hem of your underwear, “Two,” he pulled it down your thighs with one hand, “Three” it was down to your ankles, “Four” your dress was pushed up past your hips, “Five,” his mouth was face to face with your soaked pussy. You were gorgeous, perfect flaps waiting to be spread open by his mouth. 

“Sa..” You went to begin but his mouth was on your spot. You weren’t going to stop him anyway. Two fists balled up against the sheets and you felt him press a hand on your stomach, signaling you should lay down. Your legs found themselves thrown up against his shoulders, so he could be even closer to your wetness. Two hands suctioned against your hips and he did his magic. For someone who had never eaten pussy he was surprisingly good at it, lapping at you like you were the best meal he’s ever had. You tasted like savory heaven, something he’d never want to give up. His tongue rolled around your cunt for a few moments before he latched onto your sweet cunt, sucking like he never had before. He felt you tense up, rolling your hips to the sensation, and he knew he had found the perfect spot to please you. 

“Pl.. f-f-fuck… pleas- hah.. Mmm… please,” you whimpered, gasping and arching your back to the sensation. He wanted you to cum just had he had several times before. Satoru pulled his face back from your pussy, his chin glistening with your wetness, and pulled one hand from your hip. He needed to make you cum any way he could, and he’d heard that fingering made women feel pretty good. With ease, he sunk digit after digit inside of you, filling you up with three fingers. You felt so warm and plush, sticky, and … fuck warm. 

“What a whore, huh? You take all my fingers…” Gojo mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his mouth on your clit. He pushed his fingers in then out, and in then out, in a rhythmic dance to stimulate your senses. He felt your spongey walls clench around him when he hit your perfect spot and kept going, making sure to abuse it as best he could. His mouth helped too, licking your juices up as if there was no tomorrow, in his mind there wouldn’t be. He had to make the best of here and now as if he’d never get this chance again. 

He could tell you were close when your noises got louder, and your voice reached a higher octave. You moaned and groaned his name, begging to release all over his face. And when you did, you did something a bit unexpected. You squirted. Your body tensed and you rolled your hips a few times, going silent before a loud moan escaped your lips. Satoru didn’t stop and didn’t stop when he felt you cum all over him. It sprayed over his face, just getting a bit of his chin and neck but he didn’t care. Fuck, he thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen! 

Satoru pulled back and grinned, “I’m gonna fuck you until I can’t cum anymore, kay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, bringing you up further on the bed by your arms then promptly pouncing on you. You gasped when his mouth assaulted yours in a sloppy R-rated kiss. His tongue lapped yours and tased your saliva, moaning for more. It felt so good, building a burning sensation deep in his stomach. He needed to get off, and he needed to get off now. You heard him moan and whine into the kiss as he did exactly what he wanted to and touched your full breasts. He squeezed and palmed the skin just to hear you moan and whimper that it was too sensitive. That’s what made him strain more against his pants. 

He sat up and took off his pants, well attempted to. Satoru struggled against his belt, to the point where you had to sit up and help him. You cleared your throat and pulled off the belt, beginning to unbutton his pants, “So… did you also learn about the marriage yesterday?”

The white-haired male let out a lust-filled laugh and nodded, “Didn’t know it was happening today, though.” Once his pants were unbuttoned he shimmied out of them and his boxers, kicking them to the side and getting right back on top of you, “Mm…” he moaned against your mouth as he brought you back into a kiss, “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re swelling with my kid,” you moaned into the kiss when he said that, joining him in filling the room with your joint noises. 

Satoru pulled back and looked down at his cock. He was throbbing and leaked precum onto the sheets, in between your spread legs. It didn’t take him long before he grabbed the base of his cock and stroked it a few times, “You wanna be bred?” He asked, his voice almost hoarse as he spoke. 

“Mhm,” you cried out, whining like a little sub bitch. You reached out to grab his hand, “Just fuck me already…” You didn’t have to tell him twice. He continued to slowly stroke his cock as he lined it up with your folds, pressing the tip into your cunt just to see your reaction. You were so warm he had to stop himself from cumming right away, but he stayed strong and pushed in. Fuck, a whimper escaped his mouth and he leaned down to kiss you again. The kiss was desperate and messy, just aching to relieve the burning desires swelling in his body. It was electric how he felt about you in that moment, he needed you so bad it hurt. He didn’t just want to fuck you, he wanted to live in your ribcage like a little parasite.

He pulled back, then thrust in again, “F-hah.. Shit.. mm-m fu..fuck,” he threw his head back at the pleasure rising up his cock. He’d never get this kind of sensation from just simply fucking himself. Sure, fucking himself to the thought of you felt good, but this was on a whole other level of pleasure. You were warm like a sauna and he wanted to just thrust in you until you couldn’t walk, until you were full of his cum. So he began, thrusting in you like you were nothing more than a sex object. You gasped and pressed yourself against the mattress, before arching your back and rolling your hips as you did when he reached your pleasurable spot. You both were so sensitive, Satoru more so from the fact he had already cum twice, that he came within seconds of penetrating you. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop when you cried out and came for the second time, or if he was feeling too stimulated, he wanted you full. He wanted to watch you bulge from his cum and carry his kids. 

“F-fuck… I’m gonna.. Mm- fill you.. Hah.. with my- mm.. Kids,” he groaned, looking down at your perfect form. Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck and bit down as the pleasure was getting to be too much. It was all-consuming, filling his whole body and all of his senses. He could feel his body jerking and spontaneously moving with every jolt of ecstasy. You were the same, crying out and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was balls deep in your wetness, taking in your noises and the plapping from both of your bodies together in pure bliss. He felt himself spill over again into your pussy, cumming to the point where it was beginning to hurt. But he didn’t want to stop, even though his dick was starting to become numb. It almost tickled at first when he kept thrusting through the sensitivity, but then it started feeling good again. So good he couldn’t help but bite even harder on your neck. You were talking it like the good slut you were, soaking up his cum and begging mindlessly for more.

Satoru gasped and kept thrusting, even though he was beginning to realize you might’ve milked him dry. He let out a whimper and pulled his head back to look at your dazed expression. Your makeup was smeared, mascara pooling at your eyes and lipstick against your cheek. He didn’t care, you were still gorgeous. 

So he was surprised when he felt himself cum again and he blurted out, “I ..f- mmshit.. F-.. love… you.. Iloveyouiloveyou.” 

His dick was so tender he was beginning to lose feeling in every motion, so his thrusts began to slow to a stop. He pulled himself off of your sweet cunt and plopped down beside you, taking in gasps of air as if he was going to die at any minute. Now he knew why men were addicted to sex. Sex was amazing! Marriage was amazing! How could he have dismissed it so early on without even giving it a try? If this was how sex and marriage truly were, he would’ve done this such a long time ago! 

“You… love me?” You murmured, turning your head to look at your husband. Gojo looked back at you with wide eyes full of … well tiredness and confusion. He was so out of it that he didn’t even process he had said it until you pointed it out. A few silent moments passed as he tried to think of what to do. Well shit, now he might not have that amazing explosive sex anymore. 

“I love you too… I think. It’s weird, I felt like I did when I first saw you,” you continued, turning on your side to watch him with delicate eyes. You … also loved him? If he wasn’t sore and numb in his dick at the same time he would’ve fucked you again. 

Satoru let out a breathless laugh and outstretched one of his arms to rest on your waist, “Yeah, me too.”

[jobean12-blog]

Everything You Want

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,344

Summary: There's no one you trust more than your husband and he always knows exactly what you want.

Author's Note: Just because I love the idea of being in such a trusting and loving relationship that you can have this kind of fun (whether it's a fantasy or not). Also, we know I love a soft mob!Bucky who will do anything for his girl- even 'give up' control (or let her think he is hehe) Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dvider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: It's fun and flirty and there's tension and softness, ora-l (m rec), some light dirty talk.

“Where do you think you’re goin’ dressed like that doll face?”

You startle with a yelp and drop your earring, scowling at your husband.

“Buck!”

The muscles in his throat work as he grazes you with a head-to-toe perusal and saunters closer. His splayed hand smooths down your back as he bends to pick up the fallen jewelry. You reach out for it but he pulls it away and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your head so he can put the earring on himself.

“You didn’t answer my question doll.”

“Out with the girls. You know that.”

He spins you around and tugs you against his chest, humming low in his throat when you slide your hands down his chest.

“You need to change.”

Your mouth falls open in shock and you practically shout, “I absolutely DO NOT!”

His lips twitch with a smile and he backs you toward the dresser, pinning you in place with his body.

“I can’t come with you tonight. I have business to address.”

“I know. And you’re not invited anyway. It’s girls night.”

You try to cross your arms over your chest but he presses closer and prevents any further movement.

His stare is dangerous but you lift your chin and stare right back.

“You just love to drive me crazy; don’t you doll?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mm,” he purrs, dipping his head, his lips hovering just above yours as his fingers trail down the side of your throat.

Your eyes close and your fingers tighten in the expensive fabric of his shirt. His stubbled jaw scrapes along your neck and his hands continue their slow worship of all your exposed skin. His kiss is possessive and his lips linger until you’re hot and bothered and wanting nothing more than him.

“Behave,” he whispers along the shell of your ear.

With one last soft kiss he winks at you and steps away, turning to walk toward his office and call Steve.

You let out an exhale and smooth your hands over your clothing, setting your shoulders back before you head for the door.

“I thought it was girls night,” Steve chuckles from behind Bucky as they approach the door.

“It is,” Bucky answers.

The bouncer sees Bucky and immediately moves over to hold the door open, nodding as he and Steve bypass the line of people waiting to get in.

“She’s gonna be mad Boss.”

“No she’s not. This is exactly what she wants.”

Loud music and laughter greet them when they walk inside.

Bucky glances back at Steve with a satisfied smirk before motioning to the bar. With a simple tilt of recognition Steve takes his post, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

It’s still early, the bar isn’t yet filled to capacity but it’s busy. Several people are already dancing and Bucky does a double take.

There you are, a drink in hand, dancing with your friends in the middle of the floor. As he moves closer, he notices that your skin is slightly dewy from exertion and your dress is clinging to your curves as you move your hips to the rhythm of the music.

He would stand there and keep watching but he isn’t the only one enjoying the show. When one random guy elbows his buddy and gestures in your direction, Bucky’s feet are moving purposefully toward you before the other men even get up from their table.

As he gets closer, you look up as if sensing him and when your eyes scan his face, your lips part slightly before sweeping over the rest of him. With a lick of your lips you watch and wait.

He crooks his finger at you and you sway toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck and stretching yourself flush against his body.

Letting your attention fall to his mouth, your fingers trace over his shoulders and down his chest, toying with the open collar of his shirt.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you tell him then kiss the exposed skin near his neck.

Your lips trace a path higher and graze along his scruffy jaw, ending where your mouths meet. He kisses you hungrily and when you moan in your throat he reluctantly pulls away.

“Well, I happen to own the place,” he says with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah…” you trail off. “You own just about…”

He cuts off the rest of your thought with a kiss and you melt closer, pressing all your softness against him.

Your fingers slip between the strained buttons of his shirt and when you feel his muscles tense under your touch you smile against his lips.

“I was behaving…just so you know.”

“Oh I do know doll. But I also know you’ve been waiting for me to show up and I never like to disappoint my wife.”

Your eyes sparkle and using his shoulders for leverage, you lean up and whisper in his ear.

“Bucky, take me somewhere private. Where you can rip these panties off and fuck me hard.”

“Fuck,” he hisses as his hands drop to your hips and he hauls you into him, letting you feel the affect of your words. “Are you out of your damn mind saying something like that to me in public baby doll? It’s all I can do right now not to bend you over the bar and fuck you senseless with everyone watching. Maybe it would teach you to be more careful with that mouth.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip and you look up at him through your lashes.

“My mouth knows exactly how…”

Before your words are fully spoken, he starts dragging you across the dance floor, heading in the direction of the office at the back end of the bar.

He pulls you through a door into a dark, empty hallway, the only light illuminating the corridor emanating from the exit sign at the other end. The music is muffled and all you can focus on is your mingled heavy breathing.

“On your knees doll.”

Every cell in your body hums with needy anticipation and you fall to your knees without a single hesitation.

Your hands meet in a tangle as you both struggle to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his dress pants. You devour the sight of him so hard and ready.

He braces one hand above you on the wall, the other gripping the back of your head and urging you forward. At the last second, just before your tongue makes contact, he stops you.

“Uh huh doll face. First, you finish what you were going to say. Your mouth knows exactly how…what?

You look up from your position at his feet and grip the base of his cock.

“My mouth knows exactly how you like it.”

You flick your tongue out and lick the tip, making him groan. He guides himself between you lips and you moan at the smooth feel of him on your tongue. Your hand strokes in time with your mouth, faster and faster until you feel him start to tremble.

“Baby doll, stop. Now. Fuck, please stop.”

You exult in his loss of composure and ignore his request, unable to get enough of having your powerful and possessive husband falling apart for you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, then suck it hard, distantly hearing his metal fist connecting with the wall.

He drags you to your feet and pushes you back against the hard wall.

“Spread those thighs wide for me,” he growls.

His hand reaches beneath your dress and rips at the thin material of your panties and all the while you focus on his flushed face and the desperation you see there.

“Wait.”

You say the word in a whispered rush and he stills.

“Doll,” he warns through clenched teeth.

“Taste me first.”

He groans out a curse and kneels at your feet, hiking one of your legs over his shoulder before grabbing your hips and eagerly burying his face between your legs.

@randomfandompenguin @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @hiddles-rose @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

[radioisntdead]

Omg i need more platonic Alastor and child overlord reader! Like i need child reader to be a menace to society! I need Valentino quivering in his boots as he glances at child reader! Like im talking reader was reason Val has a messed up entente. Alastor trying to manipulate the kid only for child reader to laugh it off and sip their juicebox. Child reader should definitely be an arsonist, having a thing for fire.

Good evening my dear! This is a little shorter then intended but I hope you enjoy!

Alastor & Child reader, platonic obviously.

Warnings!

FERAL CHILD READER, making this a prequel or au? [?] of the other one, reader became an overlord by accident, child reader is still a doll, I am still TERRIFIED OF PORCELAIN DOLLS

Alastor began to regret picking you up from the streets as your teeny tiny little hands patted his fluffy ears, it was fine the first few days as he tried to find your parents, after all you were a child.

He was unable to be rid of you, he tried to drop you off at a hell orphanage, you appeared again, put you back in the alley he found you, you appeared again, you were inescapable.

Alastor didn't even know you became an overlord until an invite to a overlord meeting was given to you sent by Carmilla Carmine, how did she know you became an overlord?

The overlord meeting was confusing, you didn't want to be there, they were confused on how you got there, you were sat sipping on a juice box that Auntie Rosie had brought you Infront of you a coloring book with crayons.

They were discussing something you didn't care about, overlord duties, territory issues blah blah blah, what did catch your attention though was the purple guy squinting at Rosie, he made a comment about making her a star causing Rosie to frown, the static that Alastor produced made your ears hurt and that pinwheeled into Carmilla asking the purple guy what possessed him to make that comment and kicked him out of the meeting and that was that.

For now.

Alastor held your hand as he walked you up to the Vees tower, he leaned over you

"Small one, do you remember that awfully tacky dressed thing from our little meeting today?"

You nodded,

"The one that made Auntie Rosie frown?"

"That's the one! Be a dear and do what you do best and-" he gently grabbed your arms and rolled up your sleeves, looking them over to make sure they wouldn't come loose and fall

"T̸̛͍͇͕̖͓̗̰̱̗̙̤̝̥̘̪͉̋̔̏̋̈͛̊͂͌̆̀͛̐͘͝e̴̢̛̘͔̩͍̣̪͈̞̘̖̦̤͙̫̾̽̌̌̐͗̈̾̿͐͗̆͂̒͘͜a̴̡̢̢͉̗̥̩̦͚̻̼͙͓̬͔̣͆̔̑̓̓̀͊̾̈́̃̀̉̓̇͘͝r̴̖͈̹͕͖͖̲̪͓̜̠̺̖̝̦̍͌̿́͒̈́̎͗͊̌̚͝͝͝͠͠ͅ ̸̡̡̢̥̣͍̖͙͍̰͕̟͍̯̲̍̎͑̎̅̎͗̈́̌̍̂͋̎́͠͠ͅh̴̛̞̰͍̪̘̞̜̗͍̞̞̝̖̩̼̠̓̋̿̅͐́̋̾͒̑̊̍̏̿͝i̵̧̢̛̳̗̗̠͒̓͋̈́̓̑͌̄̌̃͑̄͘͘̚m̶̢͚͚̞̯͕͍̬̩̭͖̦̯͉̖̭̒͌̈́̿̏̏̔̂̍̽̃̉͘̚̕͝ ̶̢̧̗͔̩̖̙̼̙̳͉̦̬̱̺̰͊̓̒̃̍̍͒̽͌̋̑̓́̌̕͝a̴̯͚͉̼̺̥͖̬̪̟͍͉̼̩̫̅͌́͗́́͑̽̇͆̐͗̋̒̾̕͜p̸̛̛̙͓̯͙͈͚̜͔̱͚͈̝̲̹̟̲͗̈́̓̆̀̆̌͆̔́͗̚͝͝a̶̢̨̝̘̮͙͕̼̰͍̹̲̮̮̥̥͛͆͐̾͐͛͗̃̑̂̾̑̒͐̚̚r̷̢̛͍̯̖̪͍̱̹̺͖͉̭̥̣̹̾̇͒̉̈̿́̒͋̓̈́̓̚͘͜͝ẗ̴̢͍̺̰̱̮̗͓̟̱̯̥͙̜̝͑͌͆̑̓̂͛̊̔͌̆̉̏̂͛͜ ̵̡̧̧̢͕̜͙̜͙͈̝̪̜̮̲̐̆̈́̌͑͛̑͗̐̍̚̕̕͜͝͝͝"

the static in his voice stung your ears but you didn't care too much because you just got permission to be absolutely feral, not that you needed that permission in the first place.

You skipped cheerfully into the tower sneaking past the receptionist and into an elevator, luckily for you the purple man from earlier came rushing into the elevator.

Valentino was now stuck with you.

Valentino was confused when the regular elevator music changed to boss music and that's when he looked down to see two large child eyes staring back at him.

"What the-aCK" he didn't even get to finish his sentence as you grabbed fist fulls of his wings and climbed up him, actively growling like a feral raccoon.

The elevator dinged as it opened up, Valentino fell out small puddles of what one could assume to be blood puddled out beneath him startling several employees,

You stood tall [or at least you felt like it], wearing Valentino's heart shaped glasses, the white bits of one of Valentino's antennas in your hand before you grinned and threw it up like confetti.

"Okie-dokie! I'm done, bye-bye!" You said gleefully before kicking the rest of Valentino out of the elevator and pushed a button to go back down humming cheerfully as the door closed and someone rushed over to Valentino.

He didn't come to overlord meetings after that, at least not when you were there.

"Little one, sign this."

Alastor said as he came to you holding a contract and your favorite flavor of crayon,

"No,"

"Please?"

"Nope"

"I'll give you candy and I'll let you go to bed at 9:30 instead of 8:45"

"No!"

You shook your head and shouted before taking a sip of your juicebox, Alastor opened his smiling mouth to say something only to get interrupted by horrendous banging on the hotel doors.

"ANGEL, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE COME OUT."

It seemed the purple man had come to do something to Angel dust, your favorite babysitter, you looked up and blinked at your forcibly adopted parent as if asking for permission, you weren't asking you were giving a forewarning.

Alastor just nodded smile growing larger as you skipped over to the hotel doors and swung em' open, stopping the moth mid door attack.

Valentino was stunned for a moment as he saw no one was seemingly there, you coughed to get his attention.

Valentino looked down at you, juice box in hand and a grin large on your little face,

A chill ran through his spine, he knew you.

He blinked, the juicebox in your hand was replaced with a lighter.

He opened his mouth to let out a scream attempting to scramble away from you before you took away his other antenna,

Unfortunately for him he wasn't fast enough in his escape as you had set his wings on fire, turns out they're really flammable!

Good evening folks I'm scheduling this for Monday at 8 am so hopefully it'll actually post! Thank you for tuning in I hope you enjoyed!

[cherryrouge]

aperture

photographer!y/n x harry

warnings: profanity, mentions of an age gap

word count: 1.9k

harry’s leg is bouncing, his thumbs drumming on his thighs. he’s mouthing the set list to himself as he hears the commotion from backstage. people rushing from place to place, getting their pre-show jitters out of their systems, laughing from easy conversation being shared in passing, music being played over the arena’s speakers, and fans making there way to their places. there’s a thrumming in his bones and a seemingly perpetual cloud over his head, forbidding him from thinking of anything but his anticipation. he’s itching to get out there. to see the crowd, to perform for them, to give them a good show, to cease these thoughts and feelings. 

he loves performing. it’s his life work and he’s not too shy to admit that he is quite good at it. singing his music and dancing, the electricity within the venue, the screams, the signs, the tears, the joy. everything about it is intoxicating and addicting. the aftermath is splendid as well, the hugs shared between him and the band, the talk of heading out for drinks that he just enjoys to listen to knowing that he would not join, and he loves seeing the photos that y/n gets, of him (backstage or on stage) or of the fans. the energy that only she could capture. the unity among this body of people. 

it’s the occurrence and outcome of performing that he loves, not the overlong waiting period before. 

there is a shinning light in the waiting though, and it’s her. with her camera and bright smile. the newest member to their team, y/n is a warm and welcome presence. they had hired her for the second leg of love on tour. she was a new, fresh face on the scene, just graduated college with a natural talent in capturing invaluable moments. he knew as he looked at her application and instagram that she was perfect for this role. and how right was he. within the first week of working, she had wiggled her way into the hearts of everyone around her. even the fans had seemed to have taken a liking to her, shouting her name as she passed them to take pictures of harry and the band from the floor. and as much as harry teased them, looking at them with feigned offense as he told them that they should be paying attention to him, not her, harry couldn’t even blame them. he had taken a rather large liking to her, as well. 

he liked how things seemed to fall into place when she was around. a gap filled with quiet giggles and shutters of the camera. there was a longing feeling in his chest when she was away and a blissful calm when she was near. he figured this can be attributed to his vaguely romantic affections to her. 

somewhere between the first time he met her, her shaky hands and nervous laughter, and now, as he waits for her to come to him, his thoughts of her changed. at first, strictly professional, friendly business. then, it was genial, sharing stories and past experiences. and now, nearly affectionate, flirty jokes and mutual yearning. at first, when he recognized this change, he chastised himself. how unprofessional, how inappropriate, how juvenile, this crush was. a crush he had on someone he technically was the boss of and someone he was quite older than. however, his frustration and concerns for the situation crumbled under the heavy weight that was his admiration for the woman. even now, he tells himself to not give in, to keep his compliments and flirtatious comments to himself in preparation for her arrival. but he can’t dwell in that for much longer when a soft, rhythmic knock sounds on the door.

“hi, harry!” she says, entering the room. by habit, he quickly turns his head to look at her from his place on the couch in the green room. her smile is bright as she looks at him, framed by beautiful rosey lips that harry can’t stop himself from fantasizing about. her makeup is kept light and accentuates her natural features, her hair down. her outfit quite simple, a tight, white baby tee, flared, high-waisted jeans that look as though they came straight out of the seventies, brown heeled boots, and camera in the clutches of her delicate, red- polished fingers. he realizes in this moment, like he had in many others, that he stood no chance. he held no power or control over his ever growing affections when she was this beautiful, this lively, this kind, or this gentle.

“‘lo, love. you look gorgeous. gonna steal the show looking like tha’” harry comments with a dimpled smile. fuck, harry, can’t be helped, can you? he complains to himself. but just like always she giggles at him, letting out a soft “oh, stop” as she situates herself and her camera. they fall easily into their routine. she asks him about his day and if he’s nervous, she moves around him, taking pictures every now and then, and shares stories from her day when asked. he watches her as she flits about the room, blushing like a little boy when she catches his gaze, he shares his own stories from the day, adding his own flare and exaggeration just to get her laughing.  

“oh, you have to tell the finger gun story! they’ll love it! especially, if you act it out! that would be so cute!” she exclaims through her giggles. harry smiles at her as she talks, watching her as she finally settles on the couch adjacent to him.

“cute, huh?” he teases. fucks sake, he scolds himself like his mum used to when he was a little boy and said something he shouldn’t have. it was peculiar how out of body he felt when he was around her, there were times when he could get a grip and stop his flirting, his flushing, and over all childish behavior. and there were times he could not. it seemed to be the latter most often, much to his dismay. 

her face flushes and she smiles back at him, muttering a shy “shut up.” she tucks the left side of her hair behind her ear, something he had noticed she did when blood rushes to her cheeks, warming the skin there an uncomfortable amount. god.he wishes he could kiss them, or even gently nip at them, hold them in his hands and stroke them with his thumbs. harry tries to shake these thoughts from his head before he does something rash and unwelcome. the fear of making this beautiful, sweet angel of a woman uncomfortable is crushing, the thought alone cracking his heart. he decides to focus on lacing up his sneakers. 

she watches him, thankful for the time to calm herself down and let the perspiration starting to dampen the nape of her neck die down. she’s always thankful for the times she can just watch. a naturally shy person, she finds it hard to come back with witty comments or flirty rebuttals when harry speaks to her. she wishes she could, god, does she wish she could. she fears that her lack of response will eventually make him stop. which, in earnestness, she admits would be the worst outcome. it had happened before, in college. a boy named andrew in her statistics class, who she had really, really liked, decided to show interest in her at a party. he flirted, and flirted, and flirted. and y/n simply giggled in response before awkwardly changing the subject. and of course, he lost interest, which y/n deduced was her fault because everything she did in that moment was an indicator of disinterest. he couldn’t see her blushed cheeks with every brush of his hand or compliment passed her way. he couldn’t see her glances at him when he looked away. of course he couldn’t tell! he wasn’t a mind reader and he didn’t have eyes on the back of his head! he was a frat-boy, majoring in finance who wanted to hit it and quit it! she criticizes herself for her past mistakes, or miscommunications, hoping that it doesn’t happen again. at least not with harry.

she understands the implications of them being together. he’s her employer, a fair amount older than her, and harry fucking styles. she supposes her non-response approach to flirting with him might be good, aids her in her fight to keep things professional, if not, friendly between herself and harry. regardless of if that’s what she wants, she knows that’s what’s best. and how could she even be so sure that he, of all people, would want her. she shakes her head, physically ridding herself of these thoughts before they turn mean. 

she continues to watch as his fingers work at the laces of the shoes, there’s a knock on the door and a call that he has ten more minutes of preparation before he must perform. it’s then that she decided to snap a photo of him. she pulls the camera away from her face to look at the picture before shyly smirking to herself. 

“hm?” 

“oh, nothing, this is just a good picture of you.” 

“lemme see.”

she gets up from her spot to sit next to him on his couch, showing him the photo. as he takes in the image, she takes in him and she wishes that her eyes were cameras themselves so she could keep the image of the smirk on his face, the dimple indenting his cheek, the slope of his nose, his eyelashes framing his green eyes as the sparkle under the light of the room in tangible memory.

“you know, you’re quite talented.” he jokes, turning his head to look into her eyes. the closeness of their faces surprising the both of them, but not enough to make them move away from each other. what the fuck am i doing? harry comments to himself, hoping for it to be enough to break him out of his trance. with the scrunch of her nose and a breath of her laughter, he knows once again that he is not strong enough.

“i think i’ve been told once or twice.” their noses brush and they’re eyes lock on each others. they’re still for a moment, both fighting an internal battle, so badly wanting to give in but so very worried for what it would mean if they do. they both, almost as if magnetized, move their heads ever so slightly closer, noses bumping in a clumsy manner. it’s that action that pulls them apart. harry turns his head to look behind her, coughing softly. y/n turns hers forward.

“i should leave. give you sometime to relax by yourself,” she pauses, grabbing her camera before standing. she walks to the door, standing in front of it as she looks at him looking at her.

“break a leg, harry. you’ll do great, you always do.” she says with a nervous smile, tucking her hair behind her ears and exiting the room. a new wave of disquieting thoughts fill the space she once occupied. but he had little time to dwell on those as he walks out of the room and to the box in which he’ll be rolled to the stage. he turns around to see her, already staring back a him. she offers a gentle, reassuring smile and a thumbs up. harry returns the gesture before turning away and fits himself in. 

fuck. 

hello, everyone! this is the first installment of my harry & photographer!y/n series. i truly hope you enjoy! please, please, please feel free to leave any comments, questions, or suggests you have for me and the story!

-rory.

[lovelytsunoda]

dancing in the dark | mick schumacher

summary: after her team gets totally ripped apart in court, yn returns home and changes into some comfy clothes, content to lounge on the couch for the rest of the evening. however, that flannel shirt drives mick crazy, and he has other plans

pairing: mick schumacher x law clerk!girlfriend! reader

warnings: 18+ content, cutesy smut, (seriously this smut should feel horny and like a warm hug at the same time), mick says some funny things. the lawyer referenced is mickey haller from 'the lincoln lawyer' because i fucking said so. (i literally just realized what i've done giving her boss and her lover the same name lmao i dont know any other tv lawyers so this stands and im making it part of the plot) it’s actually shorter and a lil less graphic than originally intended dont shot the messenger

court was rarely ever pretty, but usually yn could leave a courtroom feeling like she did the best she could.

not today. she was shaky as she left the courtroom, even after mickey haller, the lawyer that she worked for, assured her that she'd done nothing wrong.

"that was my mistake, not yours." he had insisted. "everything you put in that document i told you to. lorna and i checked it three times before i filed it."

of course, that did nothing to make her feel better as she drove back home, taking the rest of the afternoon off. mickey had insisted, which usually meant he had something to work on that he didn't want any help on.

when she pulled into her driveway, she dragged herself out of the small car, and into her empty house. mick was still out, presumably with the dog. he had training this morning, and then a meeting in the afternoon, so he had likely taken angie to his mothers.

still feeling off, she stripped out of her court clothes, donning her fuzzy socks and a plaid flannel top. she let her hair down from its tight bun, gently massaging her scalp before heading to the kitchen to make a mug of hot chocolate.

the file was still in her bag, along with a red-marked copy of the form that had been misfiled. the entire trial had to be postponed, so the haller camp was likely the most hated set of people in that courtroom.

she turned the kitchen radio on, a habit she had picked up from her grandparents. her grandfather loved seventies music, so there was always some don mclean or dolly parton playing in his house when she grew up. she herself preferred the eighties: inxs, springsteen, blondie, benatar.

she heard the front door open, followed by the sound of mick's duffel bag hitting the floor. she listened to his footsteps, and it was soon enough that she felt his arms wrapping around her waist.

"i thought you were in court today?" he mumbled, kissing her shoulder softly. she could smell his cologne, a musky and earthy scent. something inexpensive, for he saved the dior for special occasions.

"we got absolutely destroyed this morning over a misfield document with the courts, so mickey sent us all home to regroup."

truth be told, it was days like this one that had yn questioning why she'd even started this job in the first place. lately she'd had more bad days than good ones, but lorna had assured her that it would pass.

"you know what the great thing about being alive is?" mick said softly, taking her by the hand and gently spinning her to face him. "you can always try again tomorrow. nine times out of ten, there is always a second chance."

"i know you're right. i just feel guilty since i was the one who drafted the document." it didn't matter that mickey checked it and lorna filed it. she was the one who drafted it, so the error was hers.

"your lawyer checked it over, right? and he didn't see anything wrong with it?"

"yeah but-"

'no buts. i refuse to see my brilliant girlfriend be down on herself for something that isn't her fault."

she was about to protest again when mick swayed their bodies into a dance, slightly out of tune with the springsteen song that was playing from the corner. 'dancing in the dark'. it was their song. she smiled despite herself, laughing along and joining in with the dance. mick twirled her around the kitchen twice before hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her into the air. she laughed in surprise, gripping his shoulder as he carried her over to the couch.

she giggled as he dropped her onto the couch, climbing over her and planting himself between her thighs. mick leaned in to kiss her, his lips soft against hers. she smiled into the kiss, exhaling softly as she unconsciously bucked against his crotch.

“you know this shirt drives me crazy, right?”

“this one?” she pursed her lips. “it’s almost a decade old. it’s the oldest shirt in my closet.”

mick grinned, strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he nuzzled his cold nose into the skin between her boobs. “you’re like a sexy lumberjack.”

she laughed as mick kissed over the flannel on her shirt, slowly making his way down to her exposed hip where the shirt had ridden up when he placed her on the couch. "what does that even mean?"

he pressed his nose against hers, her slender legs wrapping around his toned body. "hey, pretty girl. what can i do? how can i make you feel better?"

"mhm, i think i have an idea." she smiled shyly, running a finger down his chest.

"does it involve you screaming my name in pleasure?"

"why yes, i think it does."

laughing, mick kissed her again, gently nipping at her lip before he pulled her into his arms, her legs securely wrapped around his torso. he carried her to their shared bedroom, placing her at the edge of the bed before sinking to his knees on the plush carpet.

he pulled his white t-shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere across the room as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, gently kissing up and down the expanse of her leg.

the sight of mick between her legs never failed to give her butterflies. he never hesitated to get on his knees for her, no matter how sore they may be in the morning. she never even had to ask. mick always seemed to know just what she needed.

her chest was filled with love as mick kissed, licked and sucked his way across her inner thigh. he was her sweet boy, her love. mick thought that she was an angel on earth, and had even made the cheesy 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven' joke the first night that they spent together.

he tongued at her wet core through the black cotton of her panties, eliciting a gentle gasp from the woman above him.

"you liked that, sweet girl? did that feel good?"

"yeah." she breathed, shifting on the bed, arousal jolting through her body. "i want you, mickie."

"it's so weird that you call me that when the guy you work for is also named mickey."

"it's spelt different."

"same difference." he laughed, pinching her thigh gently.

"i guarantee you that i'm not thinking about my boss right now, mick."

mick laughed, his warm hands traversing her thighs, up to her ass, and pulling her closer to his face. "raise your hips, honey pie. let's get those pesky panties off of you."

across from her, a large round mirror sat on top of the white ikea dresser, and she couldn't decide what was more erotic: the reflection of her blushing, panting face and the back of mick's head between her thighs, or looking down and seeing the look of lust and adoration in mick's eyes as he slid her calvins down her legs.

making eye contact with her lover, she teasingly began to undo the buttons on her flannel, letting the fabric fall away and expose her naked curved body to the man on his knees in front of her.

“you fucking undo me, baby.” mick said, voice husky as he visibly held back a moan. “so pretty just for me. I don’t deserve it.”

he gently ran a hand up and down her thigh as she used her legs to draw him closer to her core, the heat radiating off her skin and warming his.

he kissed her core gently, smiling at the soft sigh he drew from his lover before he began to lick at her slit, juices running down his tongue and around his lips.

“holy fuck.” she exhaled, throwing her head back.

if she looked in the mirror, she’d be able to see micks shoulder blades rippling under his skin every time he pushed himself closer to where she needed him most.

“yeah, you needed this, didn’t you? needed me to help you feel better? that’s what I’m here for baby, you don’t even gotta ask.”

there was reverence contained in every lick, every nuzzle. every time his nose bumped her clit. every gasp and moan she let out spurred him on, encouraging him further as he continued to make out with her pussy.

“fucking hell, mick. that feels so good.” she moaned, rutting against his lips. “oh, god!”

“atta girl.” mick encouraged, snaking his arms around her waist. “just use me to feel good, baby.”

she was flush against his face now, practically grinding herself against his tongue. she chanced a look down, moaning at the look of sheer lust in micks eyes as he met hers, his long pink tongue licking at her opening, face practically covered in her juices.

“mick, oh my god!” she squealed, thighs closing in around his face, fingers twisted up in the duvet as she tried to stay upright.

she came with a scream, arms threatening to give out beneath her as mick continued to work her to the edge, never giving up his relentless pace

“that’s my girl. come on, give it to me. I know you can, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

she slumped backwards, allowing the duvet to pillow around her as she felt her legs go week. her hands moved to ruffle micks hair, a lazy smile on her face. he continued to kiss her thighs as she lay there to recover, listening for every breath, every soft sigh.

“how’re you feeling?” his voice was soft as he crept up the bed, gently hovering over her body. he laced one hand with hers, his nose running along her cheek.

“absolutely fantastic. you always know how to make me feel good.”

when he kissed her, she could taste traces of herself on his lips. in the beginning, she’d felt so awkward about tasting it. now? now it just served as another reminder of how much mick loved her. a reminder that he enjoyed pleasuring her.

“can you taste how sweet you are?” he hummed, kissing her softly again. “just like heaven, princess.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, pretty girl. I’m pretty sure heaven is right between those thighs of yours.” there was a sparkle in his blue eyes, and a cheeky grin on his lips. “you know, you’re more than just pretty. you’re fucking smart too. I wish I could be half as smart as you are. do you think that if I slipped my cock into you right now, I could absorb some of that knowledge like through osmosis or whatever?”

she grinned stupidly at the sheer absurdity of the question. once you got him in the bedroom, mick schumacher had no filter whatsoever.

“wanna try it and find out?”

mick drew back, undoing the top button on his levis while she sat up just enough to toss her flannel aside and move up the bed. she slipped a small throw pillow underneath her hips when the lay back down, sweaty hair brushed behind her ears. mick clambered up the bed to join her, large hands reaching to the knob on the bedside drawer for a condom.

he slid inside her with ease, buried to the hilt as he kissed her forehead gently. she squirmed underneath him, gently rutting her hips into his.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

his thrusts were gentle, yet still deep as he drew one of her legs up and around his waist, her arms coming to link around his neck as she pulled him close. he was a gentle lover, a passionate one. he believed in taking his time to make his partner feel good.

“my god, babe, you feel so fucking good. so good for me.” he groaned down her ear, teeth nipping at her earlobe. “taking my cock so well.”

hands on his shoulders, she could feel his muscles rippling and undulating under her dainty hands, french nails leaving small scratches along his tanned skin.

“oh, just like that.”

the pace was slow and comforting, sensual and erotic as mick somehow managed to make every thrust feel like his cock was going deeper, deeper, deeper.

“eyes on me, honey pie. I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” mick encouraged, seeing her eyes screwed shut in pleasure, cheek resting against the pillow. “where’s my sexy model girlfriend?”

a smile crossed her features, a moan escaping her throat as mick brushed against her spongy walls. she turned her head slightly, staring right up at his goofy smile and sweaty face.

he leaned down to kiss her, moaning into her mouth before slipping his tongue in and touching it against hers.

his hands travelled up and down her body, over all of her curves. over her breasts and rolling her nipples between his fingers.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispered, kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“mick,” she moaned softly. “faster.”

he smirked, snapping his hips quickly against hers. “how’s this, baby? you close?”

“yeah.” she whined. “think so.”

she curled her legs tighter around him, trying to pull mick closer and closer to her, trying to take him deeper and deeper. his breath was heavy on her neck as he left open mouthed kisses in his wake. one of his hands came down and over her waist, thumb rubbing gently at her sensitive clit. she moaned out a small curse, nails digging into his back.

“please.” she panted “don’t stop.”

his free hand desperately clenched around the sage green duvet, his grip white-knuckled. her walls contracted around his cock, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. he swore in german, his hips faltering as he tried to keep his composure.

“give it to me baby, come on, I know you can. keep taking my cock. fucking shit, baby, I’m not gonna last.”

“mick!” she screamed, back arching, skin pressing against his, walls contracting around his thick dick.

her nails were digging into his back, her face flushed and facing away from him as she came. at this angle, he was happy to lean over and press gentle kisses to her face, softly whispering praise and encouragement as he continued to work himself to the edge.

his hips stuttered, cock twitching as he spilled into the condom, body shaking as he lowered himself to rest beside his lover. he had yet to pull out, their legs still locked together. her skin was warm as he pulled her into his arms, swollen lips leaving kisses against her sweaty hair and her fingertips drew shapes against the bare skin of his chest.

out in the kitchen, he could faintly hear the radio. it had long since changed from springsteen, now playing the dulcet tones of paul hewson and u2.

he knew he should get up. he at least needed to take the condom off. maybe pull a blanket over their bodies.

but having her in his arms was a type of heaven within itself. her scent overwhelming his senses, her touch comforting over his flushed skin.

he needed her beside him like he needed oxygen to breathe.

“mick,” she mumbled, head still resting against his chest. “I need to go to the bathroom, and you’ve still got most of your lower body weight on me.”

he grinned sheepishly as he disentangled himself from her, watching from the bed as she strode to the closet, pulling a silken robe around her lithe frame.

he was so in love. he hoped this would be his forever.

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [2]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.6k

I posted this a day later than the one on ao3 because I forgor :''DD

Seeing the support and comments from both website got me off my ass to fix the storyline, even made a lot of changes on the chapters I've had preserved.

this chapter got rewritten a LOT, and was longer than it initially was so I hope y'all don't mind long chapters.

[1] [2] [3] [4]...

__________

There's been times where your heart has truly fluttered for a man throughout your lifetime. Too many times has it been because some of your bosses (read: Jimin) flirted with you but you have never felt anything remotely giddy for anyone else outside the group.

Except for the man now sitting in front of you, flashing you a dimpled smile after handing out his card with an ease you only see in your friends and male leads in dramas. An action more attractive than any kabaedon or flexed muscles.

He's attractive but you don't like like him.

Yoo Guwon came to you as a bashful giant, rubbing the back of his head whenever he’s flustered and a constant sheepish smile featuring his deep set of dimples indented on both cheeks. He’s charming and articulate with his words just like a lawyer would be. Everything about him reminds you of another gentle and clumsy giant probably hunched over his music equipment back in the BigHit building.

It’s only been a few hours but you surprisingly covered most of the basic grounds of first meeting conversations during the short time you drove around Han River in a two seated bicycle. From the meager questions of ‘what dreams do you have?’ to the more complex and deeper ‘If the world falls into ruin, will you burn my body when I die?’. 

Too graphic for a first date but you wanted to test the waters and you concluded that he’s too perfect.

He knows the right words to say, the proper way to act and it makes you suspicious. Your mother has never recommended you to a good guy before, having a track record of ten shitty suitors who all ran their mouths about their mediocre achievements, and dared to ask you about your purity before ranting about how dirty you are for not saving yourself for your husband the moment they find out you're not a virgin anymore. Then all of a sudden, she led you to good boy Guwon.

And it makes your skin crawl.

What did that woman eat? Has your father fed her something bad this time? What is she planning? It’s scary how she has finally advocated for an actual nice guy.

After taking you to a museum you're sure Namjoon has visited once, he drove you both to the Han River to rent a double seated bike to drive around with before ending the night with a nice reservation somewhere in the Seocho district.

The place is as sophisticated as fine dining areas usually are. With an intimate lighting, marbled tabletops matched with soft cushioned seats and high ceilings to make space for modern glass chandeliers, the restaurant was no doubt expensive, the type you have to reserve a spot two months prior to be able to experience its greatness. The point was driven home when you saw the amount of zeros it cost for one can of soda. 

You asked him how he managed to get a table and he went down the rabbit hole of the many advantages he got from successful cases, ranging from a free monthly subscription to fruit baskets to a free week-long voucher to a five star hotel somewhere in Busan. 

Going back to the butterflies, while not as wild as it got when Hoseok possessively wrapped an arm thrown around your waist to pretend as your boyfriend to ward off a persistent suitor, they're there, albeit subtle.

Very subtle.

Maybe it's in the way he didn't think twice to hand out his card towards the waiter in the most suave way with the thick golden watch decorating his wrist, sleeves neatly folded up to reveal the thick cords of veins on his forearms with his hair strewn messily and a dimpled smile that made you react like that.

You ignore the voice comparing his uncannily similar traits to someone else.

Meeting Guwon wasn't like how the movies illustrated love at first sights. They talked of fireworks exploding in the background and hearing the sweet chimes of wedding bells upon eye contact but for him, it's just that. A meeting far more formal than you'd like. He has a lot of qualities that check your list of husband material traits yet instead of butterflies, you could only feel an echoing hollowness in your chest as you listen to him list out his future plans. 

It felt like surrendering to the fate the divinities had weaved out for you which is being an untethered forced to love someone you don't even feel any spark with.

He's a nice man who’s offering a comfortable future and you're just a woman who wishes to live a lavish life at home while your husband wastes his years away in the office. You might be a hopeless romantic who wished for soulmates and the like but you're not blind to the opportunity Guwon offers you.

You haven't texted the gc anything during the date other than the selfie you took before you left for the date but there's been constant vibrations in your purse and it's no doubt the guys asking for updates but for a moment you wanted to try to focus on the man before you.

Not that it wasn't hard to try with Guwon anyways.

Whenever the man spoke of his achievements and hobbies with a humble approach, he never forgot to ask you for your opinion or input on the topic. You also noted how he has never cut you off and let you speak whenever you wanted, listening with an eagerness only your friends usually show. He asked relevant questions with a genuine curiosity, eager to know more about you. 

So when he asked if you wanted to go on a second date that night, it came to no surprise for anyone when you accepted it albeit the heaviness in your heart.

It was funny how eagerly you searched for a husband you could bring to your parents' doorsteps but the moment someone with all the qualities you seeked came, it felt disappointing. Boring even.

But you can learn, this man is your ticket to living without working anymore.

It came to no one's surprise that your mother was overjoyed, she wasted no time calling you before you could even change to squeeze the memory of today out of you.

The shrill scream of victory she let out that night was unforgettable because finally, a suitor you actually liked. Your dad even congratulated her off-screen for her matchmaking achievements before telling you to bring Guwon home to meet them.

Logically, you’re aware you've won the love roulette—Guwon has it all, he checked every box on your list, yet it felt like defeat and it tasted foul, bitter on your tongue.

You couldn't tell them that it was you deciding to settle, that would break her heart.

Tapping the end call button felt like the dam breaking and all the water held onto for so long flowed out. You fall lifelessly on your bed with a heavy sigh. Taking a couple evening breaths, you finally opened the group chat with an overwhelming number of unread messages.

[Today, 08:49]

[08:49] Mimi: I'd run my bank dry to take you on dates if you'd dress so pretty like that, noona~

[08:49]Tete: We're really seeing this for free when the poor guy has to pay for it. #livingapriviledgedlife😁👍

[08:49] Hobi: Wow noona🤯

[08:50] Yoongs: 👍

[08:55] Tete: Wait, I don't think those shoes fit you, go back home and change it😁

[08:56] Jinnie: Hey, you're showing too much skin on the first date! Go back and change!

[08:57] Joonie: Ignore these haters noona, I hope you enjoy your day😊

[Today, 21:48]

[21:48] Jinnie: are you home yet? You haven't seen our messages in HOURS.

[21:48] Tete: NOONA DID YOU GET MURDERED?!😱

[21:50] Joonie: Let's be rational guys, don't jump to conclusions. The date might just be going great if she's busy enough to not check her phone😊.

[21:51] Mimi: doing great? don't scare me like that hyung😵‍💫

[21:51] Tete: BUT WHAT IF SHE GOT KIDNAPPED HYUNG????

[21:51] Hobi: please reply soon, we're worried🥲

Jungkook's absence from the conversation didn't come to you as a shock, the kid doesn't even reply to you for a week despite being one of the people who raised him. Nonetheless, you sat up from your bed to record a quick video of you giving them a thumbs up and turning the camera to show your room.

The latter was an assurance to Taehyung that no, you also didn't get kidnapped into someone else's house to be someone's housekeeper, and no, it wasn't a clone either.

The moment your message gets sent, the replies blow up your phone almost instantaneously.

[22:28] Mimi: noona you're alive!

[22:28] Joonie: How did the date go?😊

[22:28] Jinnie: how nice of you to remember to update us PEASANTS.

[22:28] Mimi: How was Guwon?

[22:29] Tete: I KNEW WE SHOULD'VE WENT WITH YOU ANYWAYS

[22:29] You: Shockingly, he's a pretty nice guy. Not too bad on the eyes, and pretty smart. I think you'd get along well with him, joon. He's a lawyer so he covered most of the expenses today😁

[22:29] You: Overall, it was great, we're gonna go on a second one. He's pretty cool.

Instantly, messages from the members, even Jungkook’s to your surprise, flooded your screen.

[22:30] Tete: Noona you've been cursed! We need to bring you to the nearest shaman to break it!!

[22:30] Mimi: don't joke with us noona

[22:30] Mimi: I just got goosebumps!

[22:30] Joonie: Congratulations are in order then? Will we be expecting him around you soon?

[22:31] Yoongs: I need to meet him, need to know if he's good enough

[22:31] Yoongs: men are trash, I need to see him for myself before I decide

[22:32] Yoongs: and you know what they say about lawyers, they LIE. I wouldn't trust him 

[22:32] Jinnie: WE need to meet the man who managed to steal your heart! I want to talk to him😊

[22:32] Mimi: don't use that emoji again, hyung

[22:32] Hobi: SCARY JWANN😱

[22:32] Joonie: Let’s not threaten anyone please.

[22:32] Joonie: But I'm really happy for you 😁.

[22:33] Tete: Those periods really scares me hyung…

[22:33] Tete: Somehow, I don't think you mean it…

[22:33] Joonie: What makes you think that, tae?😁.

[22:33] Tete: 😰

[22:34] Ggukie: a few drinks will fix you up, noona😁

[22:34]  Mimi: you'll invite me this time right?

[22:34] You: I don't know, you already used your mischief hours this week, I doubt Sejin would be so kind next time.

[22:34] Hobi: if he does that right now during practice, I also wouldn't be so kind to him😊

[22:34] Mimi: you are scaring me hyung…

[22:34] Hobi: good😊

[22:34] Tete: Hyung, are you just gonna ignore Jungkook leaving?!?!!?

The messages continued for a good five minutes, mostly consisting of holding Jimin back from leaving practice and him sending pictures of the infamous Hoseok death glare from across the room before your doorbell chime rang, making you shoot up straight.

A beat. Then it continues in three quick successions, the knocks almost in sing-song and sounded like two hands were used to produce the tune, giving you an inkling on who might be visiting you at this late hours of night.

Padding out of your room, the front door suddenly swings open without warning and you yelp. By the doorsteps stands the intruder, a tall man in a black coat with his face hidden by a mask and a cap. Your body would've frozen a thousand times over if you didn't know this stranger who's hugging two paper bags, one overflowing with snacks and the other a breeze away from tearing apart from the weight and water drenching the material of the bag.

"Hi noona!"

After today, seeing Jungkook felt like a cure, his presence alone repelling the heaviness in your shoulders and you ushered him inside and he wandered into your home with ease, approaching the coffee table to place down the shopping bags. 

Suddenly you remembered what he had scheduled prior.

"You're putting me on Hoba’s punishment rotation, what are you doing here?" 

He giggled. “We both know he won't, hyung loves you more than me.”

He falls on your couch with the ease of someone who has visited your space numerous times throughout the years, propping up his feet on the back support and folding his arms underneath his head before staring up at you, expectantly.

"Anyways, I brought us food and drinks, don't I deserve a little praise?" 

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young Jungkook really is, forced to grow and act mature to blend in with his surroundings, you've always seen him stand with pride alongside his hyungs. Seeing him awaiting for your praise so eagerly like a pup fills your heart with awe.

"Yeah yeah, good job. Now move over, let me sit down."

You tapped his arm, motioning him to move over so you could sit next to him, something he obeyed without resistance, busying himself in removing the contents from the soiled paper bag instead.

“Couldn't you have put some effort into it? At least sound grateful.” He pouts. Placing down the cluster of beer cans, you turned to him and pinched his cheeks.

“Oh my dearest darling, thank you for saving this noona of yours. Such an amazing baby I have here.”

Despite being the one who asked for it, Jungkook only rolled his eyes with a barely held back grin as he slapped your hands away, making you laugh, and turned to the bag holding the snacks he bought. You didn't miss the redness dusting his cheeks or the cheeky grin that tugged his lips wide as he spilled the contents of the last bag onto the table.

There's a significant amount of sweets and snacks laid before you, as well as stacks of canned beers and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

"Wouldn't this ruin your diet?"

He waved you off with a huff. "I work out enough to eat all of these in one sitting."

Instantly, your mind brings you back to white walls and gray furniture, faced with manager Sejin who warned you about interfering with the idols' diet at the start of your career. If it wasn't for Bang PD waving off their concerns, saying they needed to be rewarded for their hard work anyways, you would've been long booted out of the company.

It's a matter long settled yet it remains to weigh heavily in your head.

Seeing the hesitation in your eyes, Jungkook continues.

"I can show you proof of my efforts," 

He then reached down to the fabric of his shirt tucked into his jeans and tugged it up, flashing you the tightly corded muscles in forming on his abdomen and the thin happy trail you often see when patting his sweat down during concerts and you hastily pulled it back down with a yelp, cheeks growing hot while he laughed.

As he throws his head back in his mirth, you couldn't help but notice the way adulthood has taken away the fullness of his cheeks and has sharpened his features. A far cry from the sensitive young boy who cried his eyes out every time his hyungs got hurt. 

There was no denying that Jungkook had grown without you noticing and it makes your chest swell with pride knowing he's been raised well by the others, in extension, although not so much, you as well.

"Don't worry so much about me, noona. I can handle the consequences now, you leave the reprimanding to me."

Under the warm overhead light of your living room, even with the exaggerated puff of his chest and his nose turnt up high, Jungkook's shoulder had never looked sturdier, reliable, in your eyes. You smiled, reaching to pinch both his cheeks making him grin wider than he already was.

"Look at you acting so cool, when did you grow so much?"

He rolled his eyes, pulling your hands away from his cheeks and entangling it with his. “I've always been cool, you just don't pay attention to me, noona.”

Before you could reply, he's already moved to reach for the beverages on the coffee table, popping two of them open and handing you one can, immediately you take a swig.

The beer fizzled in your tongue and left a trail of burns down your throat. The sensation is refreshing nonetheless and you place it down next to him before picking up the large bags of chips and standing up.

"I'll go put these in a bowl, go put something on the tv."

"Can I play anime?"

You waved at him dismissively, unable to find it in yourself to say no to him as you head towards your kitchen to transfer the junk into a bowl when a shrill tune from your bedroom cuts through the air, someone was calling you. You look over to Jungkook, scrolling through his phone, no doubt looking for a movie online.

"Gguk, can you pick up the call for me? My hands are busy right now."

There's a shuffle of feet behind you and in a moment, your phone quietens down. Finished with filling one bowl, you turn to find Jungkook leaving your room with a deep look and your phone in hand. His jaw set tight as he stood there with furrowed brows, eyes lit with irritation.

Looking at his reaction, you asked about your mysterious caller.

"Who was it?"

When he turned to you, the tick in his jaw dispersed. All of a sudden, he's smiling at you with mischief twinkling in his eyes, the change giving you a whiplash.

"It was the others, didn’t answer their calls cause I want you for myself tonight, noona."

(Later on, you'd find yourself staring at the many unread messages and two missed calls from Guwon, wondering in your drunken state if you've muted your phone at some point earlier.)

Hearing it from his lips now, your body locks, heart stuttering in your chest and butterflies exploding in your stomach, spreading a tingly feeling throughout your body and you laugh. 

"Where did you hear that line from, brat? You just activated my fight or flight!"

"Taehyung says that and gets thanked but when I do it, I'm punished?" He pouts, stomping as he approaches the island counters and crossing his arms on the marble surface.

It reminded you of a bunny you saw from a video on the internet, angrily thumping their feet at their owner when it was being purposely ignored.

“In his defense, he does it while he’s acting like my crazy ‘exes’ and saves me from dates.”

“That’s just favoritism! I saved you once from a date!”

You threw him a deadpan stare. "Throwing me over your shoulders and kidnapping me isn’t the same as Tae and Jimin acting crazy enough to make the other guy uncomfortable to save me.”

Hoseok had your favorite troublemakers kneeled on the floor with both their hands up and facing the wall at the time, punishing them for being an hour late to their practice. He had called you in, asking if they had been accompanying you during —they weren’t. 

Long story short, you didn't risk sharing Hoseok’s wrath with the two and took Jungkook instead, a decision you quickly regretted later on in the night when instead of approaching to act like one of your exes when you gave him a signal, he hoisted you up onto his shoulder and ran away while your date only watched in terror.

“Now that’s blatant favoritism! I didn’t kidnap you, we ran away together into the sunset! It was romantic!"

"Not for the other guy, no! He was shitting bricks when he called my mom. She got me squatting the entire afternoon when we met again."

Mentioning it alone made phantom pains throb in your knees and thighs, you shivered. If torture wasn't a socially unacceptable and punishable offense in the modern world, you were sure your mother would have stripped you down to your underwear and made you squat under the sun in front of your family house instead. 

The absolute fury she unleashed on you that day is enough proof that she would've done it with no hesitation if it was lawfully appropriate.

"That's too much for a failed date."

"No reason to dwell on it. Main point is, don't take notes from dramas anymore."

With a last roll of his eye, Jungkook then picked up the bowls and brought them to the coffee table following you who had returned to your seat ahead of him. Once the two of you are situated back on the couch, he navigates through the streaming app for an interesting title before eventually settling on the romance anime he claimed to have heard amazing reviews about.

Without hesitation, Jungkook navigates himself into a familiar between your legs and leaned back on your chest, head finding his rightful space under your chin with a precision gained from doing so for years.

It goes without saying that Bangtan is affectionate. With the pressure they had during their rise to fame, it wasn't shocking that they comfortably seeked each other's comfort and spared no skinship. As one of the only staff within constant exposure that's close to their age, you too became one of their pillars of serenity. 

It was the reason you had crushes on everyone at least twice during your time as their make-up artist, not that any of the boys knew nor does it matter.

Stability and work takes precedence over something as shaky as love.

There's only so much comfort another man can offer, your mother says from years before.

Jungkook more than anyone else in the group. 

As a boy who sacrificed his childhood and time with his parents to pursue his dream, you felt more inclined to watch over him than the others who were adults by the time you joined. You were there for his first heartbreak, his first drink, his high school graduation; the point is, you were there and you held him every time he struggled with problems—mostly girl problems—he's too shy to seek his hyungs for.

But now with his growth spurt, cuddling up to you like he used to when he was younger with his gangly legs awkwardly hanging from the couch, carelessly leaning his head in between the mounds of your breast while his large hand mindlessly drew circles on your knee, you found yourself wondering about the appropriateness of it all.

A man and a woman alone in a room at night in close proximity, body leaning against each other. Society would argue they wouldn’t end the night as friends anymore after the encounter.

You paused mid-drink and grimaced.

It must be the beer talking.

"Noona."

"Yeah?"

"Wrap your arms around me, it's cold."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not though? I always keep my house warm." 

He let out an exasperated groan before reaching behind to grab your arm and roughly slinging it on his shoulders.

As time continued its cycle and episodes started to fly across the screen, the pile of opened beer cans on the table expanded. You really tried to focus on the movie but the feeling of his fingers tracing stars on your bare thigh left you oddly bothered. Jungkook has shifted his position higher at some point during the movie, his body now turned sideways, successfully squeezing himself into the small space between you and the back of the couch, legs entangling itself with yours while an arm is thrown across your body.

This position puts his nose closer to your ears and it makes you shiver. The feel of his hot breath fanning across your skin has given you more goosebumps in under an hour more than you've had throughout your life.

Even drunk, you could feel the building tension thickening around you and the will to tell him to off ebbs away with every caress of his fingers.

Gone were the innocent traces of stars and hearts on your thigh, his hand now grabbed onto your waist almost possessively, thumb rolling slow circles on your bare stomach; the motion conjuring the most unholiest of thoughts known to mankind.

When the credits started rolling, you knew you had to draw the line before you lost yourself to intoxicated thoughts and end the night with regrets.

"Time for you to go home now, your hyungs must be looking for you."

You tried prying his hand from your waist so you could reach for your phone on the table only for him to tighten around you, stopping you from moving away. He groaned, head nuzzling closer into your neck and his lips grazed your skin. 

Instantly, electric jolts shoot through your body.

"Jungkook, I need to get my phone and tell someone to fetch you from here."

"Can't I just stay the night? I'm too comfortable right now…"

The gruff in his voice and the sensation of his lips moving on your skin has your stomach fluttering and you're too drunk to address the growing heat in your abdomen but thanked the sense of professionalism seeping through the fogs of your intoxicated mind.

Managing to pry him off, you reached for your phone and opened up SMS to tell Jin to pick their youngest up.

           [01:21] You: Jwannn

           [01:21] You: can you pick up your kid from my house? He's drunk and stinkyyy

           [01:23] Jinnie: your knight in shining armor is on the way!

“Just let me stay the nighttt,” he whined into your skin.

"I don't have any more spare beds other than this couch for you to sleep in, Gguk. I turned the other room into a closet, remember?"

"I can just sleep with you on the bed, we used to do that, didn't we?"

He attempted to reach around you again but you pushed his limbs away once more before slapping his arm.

You tried not noticing how thicker and harder the muscles felt, you really did. 

"But it's different now, Gguk. Come on, go wash up and drink water, I've already told someo—"

The moment you rose to stand, his arms shot around your waist in record speed and pulled you flush to his front, nuzzling his nose on the back of your neck before he sighed. When the first hot exhale hits your skin, you flinch away but the limbs wounded tightly around your middle restrict you from moving.

You try to ignore the heat simmering under your skin but it was hard when you felt the press of his plush lips on your nape as he leans closer into your skin. 

“You always smell so nice, noona.” He whispered breathily, the sensation of his moving mouth sending shivers down your spine and you shivered.

“I-I can give you my lotion brand later, let me go so I can get it.”

“But I'm comfortable here…”

Mustering every strength left in your body, you manage to pull an arm out of the death grip he had on your body and slapped his hand. Jungkook easily ignores it.

“Come on Gguk, let me out now. This isn't appropriate.”

"How is it different now?"

The alcohol intoxicating your system loosened your grip on your inhibitions and your lips regrettably moved faster than your brain.

"You're a man now, Gguk. Honestly, we shouldn't be even doing this right now. It's inappropriate."

You try to stand once more, managing to pry him from your waist and standing up before his arms hooked around you once more and tugging you back down, this time on his lap as he burrows his head onto your back.

"Gguk?"

"Yo-you see me as a man, noona?"

As a child your mother has taught you how words could heavily influence and drastically change a situation, now as an adult, you've mastered the art of speech. But as you sit still on his thighs, body warm and inhibitions blurred by the alcohol, your loose lips have led you back to the very thing you try to avoid.

"It's hard not to think so when you've grown up this much."

In a flash, Jungkook is now hovering over your face as he places you back down on the couch, his nose a hair's width from touching yours and his hands planted on each side of your head. 

There's a feral hunger swimming in his eyes as it stared into yours, desperate and intense before it fell to the plush of your parted lips and his gaze darkens. All of a sudden, you're a prey pinned down by an apex predator who's ready to devour you at any given moment.

Fire alarms blared in your mind and you regained control over your senses.

“Jungkook.”

"Noona."

You tried wriggling out of his grasp but it was no use, he's stronger. "Get off of me, kid."

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a kid anymore?”

“I'm not hearing anything out when you're acting like this, Gguk.”

He scoffed. “I just want to sleep here, in the same bed, nothing else is gonna happen. Why is it such a bad thing?”

“It's different now, Gguk. Come on, let me go.”

“How is it so different? You and Jimin hyung cuddle sometimes, I've seen you fall asleep next to Hobi hyung once, why is it different with me?”

“It's different because we're both drunk and things could happen.”

“I wouldn't mind it.” Jungkook responds with a cheeky smile. His grip on one of your wrist loosened enough that you were able to hit his arm and he giggled in response.

“But I do. It wouldn't be fair.”

Even something as small as letting one member stay at your home without the others can be the loudest announcement for the rest of the group. All those times you've rejected your friends, with reasons like ‘I don’t want to risk everything’, and ‘I don't want to hurt the others’, to turn back around to accept their youngest would be hypocritical of you.

He scoffs. "You tell us about all your stupid dates, don't you think it's more unfair for us?”

A familiar weight grows in your chest. Guilt tasted like rust on your tongue and dug into your heart with a ribbed knife. Your own late night thoughts manifesting before you and you pushed him away.

After everything, you were all friends, you trusted them more than you do with your other circle. There's not a secret left undiscussed between the eight of you so it was no surprise that you had indulged them with the details of your quest for a husband. Nobody ever raised any complaints with you sharing your days so you never thought twice about it.

It's been five years since Jin had confessed, three for Taehyung. Their eldest had confessed for the sake of him finally being able to move on after your rejection and with how he acted after, you had believed him. It was different for Taehyung who had continued to act like normal after his confession, neither dejected nor did he show signs of letting go but he did introduce a date to your group once, a year later, so you had assumed the same.

Were you wrong after all?

“Jungkook, we're drunk. Let’s talk about this tom—”

“I've never been more sober in my life than I am right now, noona.”

You didn't respond, couldn't reply.

What were you supposed to even say?

Jungkook usually obeyed you and his hyungs without hesitation, happily offering his aid whenever he could. He's the type of friend who's run himself dry just to fetch you a cup of water from the other side of the world but now as he hovers over you, he became a whole new person.

Greed has always been an irritating parasite that eats away at a person's morals but somehow in your drunken mind, you thought it looked so good on him. It fits him and his generous character the way one light clothing molds well with the dark fabrics. His familiar scent of vanilla and coconut clouded your senses, calming your panicking mind into a hush, leaving nothing but the thoughts of how his lips tasted and wondering if he’s as sweet as he smelled.

He let out a shaky exhale from through his mouth as he watched your parted lips with a rapt attention as if hypnotized by the way they subtly trembled with every breath that passed through.

In the pregnant silence of your room, his voice cuts through like a knife.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers against your lips, voice breaking in the middle from the weight of his request, honeyed and pleading, as if your kiss holds the answer to the problems of the world and holds the power to break him.

His hand travels up to cup your cheek oh so carefully like you're fragile china yet you feel yourself shatter under his touch.

You are losing grasp on your sober thoughts as lust starts to cloud your already compromised judgment, his request far too tempting to ignore.

Maybe a kiss wouldn’t hurt. 

But wouldn’t it be unfair for the others who have expressed their romantic intentions to you since years ago? 

It was a last ditch effort to reason with your mind and your body froze from the cold wave of realization. In the short time after his question, you recall the confessions you turned down to not ruin the relationship Bangtan has established for themselves and the bitter taste it left on your tongue.

“Jungkook… we can’t.”

Watching his expression contort into confused hurt almost made you want to take your words back, but your mind takes you to memories of apologetic and understanding smiles you’ve received throughout the years and the aches from those moments resurfaces, squeezing your heart in a tight grip.

“I-I’m sorry I can’t control my feelings, I just wanted to tell you about it… Thought that maybe after this, I could move on.” An apologetic voice whispers, the memory of premature confessions in the middle of a cleanup resurfacing.

“I can’t—I can’t do it to them, it’d be unfair.”

You pushed him back and he relented, letting himself be sat back onto the other side of the couch defeatedly. Despite it, his tight grip on your waist remained, pulling you flush to him and burying his face in your chest as if trying to hear the lie in your words through the beatings of your heart.

“I’m also seeing Guwon now.”

“Then don’t let me meet him. I-I don’t know if I can take it.”

It was heart wrenching and at the same time, left an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Jungkook never had to beg since you first met him, everything he could ever want was given to him by you and his hyungs without hesitation. Hearing him plead for you to never bring Guwon around if fate had actually paired you both, it was a different kind of pain.

It felt like thorns growing and rooting its stems of pointy ends into the deepest parts of your heart. You hated this, but you don’t want to hurt any of your boys by accepting one.

Relief comes in the form of Taehyung when he busted into your apartment while Jungkook has excused himself to your bathroom to sober up just a moment before. Seokjin trails behind him, calmer than the younger man who declared his arrival with a deep voice and a loud bang of the door. You immediately thought of the elderly couple and the new family of three living next to you and internally facepalmed.

“Noona! We’ve come to take Jungkook away!”

Kim Seokjin’s face has never been more handsome when he closed the door behind him, and you verbalized your thought, leading his ears to glow red in embarrassment.

“Am I only handsome to you when I’m closing the doors?! This face that people fawn over all over the world?!”

“It’s your true calling, door guy.”

“Oh shut it hyung, you’re making my head hurt.” Jungkook mutters as he reentered the living room, looking far better than when he left.

The tension was palpable, the effect of a rejected profession still raw and thick in the small joined space of the living room and kitchen and you caught Jin's eyes as the two youngest bickered, there’s a knowing look passed between you, an unsaid ‘let’s talk later’ hanging in the air.

“Hey, just because you got to escape Hoba’s practice without scratch doesn't mean you're hot shit, show me some respect!”

Seokjin scolds, accompanied by a playful kick to their youngest’s butt. Immediately the stuffy air dissipates and Jungkook responds in kind; by kicking him in the shin, hard enough to launch Seokjin into another lengthy nag.

It was a quick retrieval after his rant. Jungkook lets himself be towed out of your apartment by an oddly enthusiastic Taehyung who's going on about a new game trailer he saw online while Jin has offered to be left behind to clean up the mess. It was no doubt obvious, the familiar awkwardness and tenseness brought by a rejected confession lingered in the air when they arrived, it only took him one look at you and he already knew. 

The moment the door slams shut behind the boys, he immediately began:

“Did he admit it?”

His voice was soft yet it rang loudly in the pindrop silence of your living room. The sigh he let out echoed more when you nodded.

“I told him to not do it, you know? But you know how stubborn he gets.”

You didn’t reply. You simply move, walking to the trash bin to put the empty beer cans in and Jin follows close with the bowls stacked on top of each other to place in the sink. It was a brief moment of reprieve. He let the moment from earlier simmer in your stomach, let the smoke from it fill your lungs and weigh your heart till you burst.

Out of the seven boys, you've always turned to either him or Yoongi as they're older than you, so it came to nobody's shock when you break and told him.

“It just never gets better, I always feel guilty even if I didn’t choose. I’m just lucky I didn’t have to suffer through seven of these, I don’t think I could take it and just quit.”

It was a thought you’ve entertained when Taehyung came to you with his heart in his hand, giving it to you carelessly despite knowing how you’ve handled the other confessions. He was all dopey smiles and flushed cheeks, it continued even when you’ve pushed his heart back to him with an apologetic look.

Seeing the happy creases in his eyes iron out despite the huge boxy smile continuing to play on his lips, the existing pressuring guilt reawakened. Taehyung’s heart that gleamed and glowed gold, vulnerable for you to take and use from where it settled in the middle of his offering palms. You could’ve taken advantage of it all as they were rising in fame, when they were facing discrimination from the other companies and had found comfort in you but you didn’t.

Even with the attraction you've felt for them, you were nothing but a makeup artist to the company. Another asset to deploy and replace if it got annoying to handle. You couldn't risk your career on uncertainties, this is your dream job.

You loved them all equally and held them in the same regards as the others, they’re your best friends, chosen soul companions even without the marks to solidify it. 

They loved you and you loved them all but you wouldn't bet your life on an uncertain future.

“You should give us more credit, you know?” 

He says from the kitchen sink, the sound of water slowing into a halt. Seokjin didn’t move for a while. When he did, it was to place down the plates, washing his hands before turning around to face you.

“We’re grown adults now, we can handle rejection so don’t feel too bad about it. You can choose and we’d even help you keep it a secret from everyone besides us eight.”

It was genuine. Even in the haze of your intoxication, those words felt like a cool balm for your aching heart. While Namjoon’s words were cited research, formal and factual and Yoongi’s were calming droughts to ease the discomfort of sadness brought by gloomy thoughts, Seokjin speaks from the heart, true and unbiased but says it with a gentleness and care. 

Guilt sets like a boulder on your heart. Being able to feel, to experience such a privilege when all you've done is break his heart since your hunt for a husband, the weight in your chest multiplied and tears sprung from your eyes.

You wanted them but you couldn't risk your dream job, couldn't risk a friendship as precious as theirs for kisses and hugs that eventually has its ends.

You didn’t even notice it when he crossed the distance between you both and pulled you plush to his chest but you recognized the familiar sensation of plush lips pressing against your forehead.

If it lingered a few seconds past what's platonically allowed, you didn’t mention it.

Seokjin’s muted scent of freshly baked cakes brought silence to the rampaging waves of thoughts in your mind and if you pressed your nose flush to his chest to bury yourself in his fragrance, he didn’t say anything, bringing one hand behind your head protectively.

“I'm sorry to put you through this pain, Jinnie. I-I didn’t know.”

“I knew you didn’t know but I'll be fine... eventually.” He breathes out before leaning down to bury himself into the nest of your hair. "As long as you're happy, then I am too."

It was heavy, being loved and held so preciously even after you’ve turned him down, it felt cruel, sadistic even. But like the selfish woman you are, you accepted it. Soaked in his affections greedily.

“You know, he asked me to never show Guwon around you guys.”

He sighed. “I knew he would.”

“Do you want that as well?

Silence followed but you heard his answer loud and clear.

The second date happened after the first leg of the tour in Seoul.

Although planned suddenly, you appreciated the downtime after being lost in the haze of rushed outfit changes, reapplying makeup, and patting sweat from foreheads. If anything, you were thankful you could loosen up after earlier. The awkward tension didn’t go amiss, it only took Namjoon and Yoongi one look between you and Jungkook before taking charge on how the night progresses.

Yoongi didn't waste any time waving you over to ask for help for his makeup, even when he was already being prepped by one of your older colleagues, Ji hae. Thankfully, the woman lets you take over, saying she wanted a snack anyways.

The man didn't bother asking you what happened and settled comfortably in his chair but not before offering you the snack he bought earlier and was laying neglected on his lap. Yoongi asked about Guwon in a hushed voice, because while you were living in a reverse harem with most of his brothers, he was genuinely curious about your boyfriend-to-be.

Maybe it was the fact he has never admitted his affections for you that made it comfortable to discuss topics you could never talk about with the others with him, but you let your tongue a little loose.

And he listened.

Yoongi has always been a man of action not words, his love language has always been opening water bottles, blankets appearing from nowhere when you're passed out on their couch, and listening attentively. Despite what the world says about his nonchalance and silence, in your eyes, he's the sweetest guy on the roster—not that you'd tell Jimin that of course, he'd riot if he were to find out.

By the end of the concert, Guwon asks you on an impromptu date. A simple late night walk on a market nearby because there's apparently a food fair, and as usual, the expenses are on him. Hungry with a principle of never turning down free food, of course you accepted. 

Though you had a long time deciding whether to go or not with Jungkook’s confession still fresh.

Minutes later, he's waiting for you by the exit. The scene of him leaning on his Mercedes, waiting for you to reach him at the bottom of the stairs looks like it was pulled out of a kdrama.

Oddly enough, they didn’t question your lack of updates in the group chat but Jimin reached out later on and you suspect he told everyone your whereabouts instead, hopefully minus the date part to spare the others (read: Jungkook) from heartbreak.

The fair looked like a mirage of a paradise in the night hidden away in a small gently-lit up alley. The path was lightened up with gentle lanterns hung above you, the warm colors setting a more intimate scene. It wasn’t as luxurious as dinner from yesterday or as calming as the bike ride around the Han river but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You’re ready to drop dead but you pushed through, you wanted this relationship to work. Because then, maybe the monsters—your mother and her wide selection of personalities as well as aunties, her friends, trying to refer you to their horrible sons—haunting you from under your bed will finally leave you alone.

It was cruel that you’re using someone else to erase the memory of being professed to by one of your best friends.

Guwon was happy enough to take charge the whole date, leading you from food stall after food stall, ordering whatever your eyes lingered at which is half of what the fair offers. He understands your lack of responses as it is, tired from work, and talked enough for the both of you. Which you are grateful for.

He talked about his job and what happened that day, willingly telling you about the story of how he and his co-workers clicked back in College, never to part till now in the field they wanted. He spoke of his dreams, how he envisioned his dream home by the province surrounded by nature and the cat named Nabi waiting for him at home.

There's nothing more blatant of a signal than the last part, whether you accept it or not depends on you.

Normally, you would've frowned at the thought, immediately thinking of running away but as the night deepens and stalls start to close, the idea grows more and more tempting despite the logical voice in your head disagreeing. Seeking a distraction and possibly leading on a kind man is cruel, both to him and you.

But at the end of the day, it’s just an escape from the reality you're stuck in, a temporary answer to a long time problem. 

How harmful can it be? 

People had hookups before, you’ve had hookups before your mother has started a hunt for your husband this year so what are you so reluctant for? 

If this man is to be your husband, you should check your physical compatibility right?

You shivered. God, you sounded like one of those shitty guys you’ve dated before.

"Hey, the stalls just closed. Are you fine with me driving you back to your house?"

His voice cuts through your deep thoughts and you turn to him. Even in the dimly lit corner of the alley, Guwon looked attractive as ever with his dimpled smile and laid back attitude, his soft eyes gleaming under the lanterns, affections overflowing from his gaze and you. shuddered from its weight. 

Staring at the man, you wondered if you'd ever fall in love with him as he seemed right now.

Soon enough, you both arrive in front of your apartment building. However, not every plan goes through as you thought it'd go and you find two familiar figures rushing down to meet you. 

Taehyung didn't hesitate to run up to you with open arms and a wide smile. He didn't even care that you both almost toppled over if it wasn't for Guwon hand supporting you from the back.

"Wh-why are you two here? Shouldn't you guys be resting?"

Jimin shrugged but you caught the mischievous glint in his eyes as a small smile tugs his lips. "Hyung got so worried and wanted us to make sure you got home safely."

"Even a thumbs up would be great but you ignored every text and call! Jin hyung panicked and sent us out, if you didn't come home, he would've had a huge manhunt for you." Taehyung chimed in, pulling away but keeping his hands on your shoulders as he stared deep into your eyes, as if trying to hypnotize you into believing them.

Jimin snickered. “Yoongi hyung was an hour away from declaring you missing so the good dongsaengs we are, we decided to camp outside your apartment.”

You would've accepted his explanation, it was logically sound yet the dark glint of mischief and something else in his eyes as his gaze bounced from you to Guwon told you a different story.

They've always had to interrupt your dates when it becomes sour but this was the first time they've confronted a potential partner outside the intentions of ruining a date because you wanted it to suck.

This was them laying their claim over their own, a silent statement. A declaration you try not to think so much about, fearing you'd dig yourself deep and fall to your death.

“These must be one of your kids?” Guwon asks from behind, reminding you of his presence and you turn to him with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, Taehyung and Jimin. I practically raised them.”

Jimin scoffs and your head snapped to him, widening your eyes in warning to which he ignored. “Just because you’re a year older, doesn’t mean you could say you raised us you know?”

“See what I deal with everyday?” 

Guwon laughs lightheartedly before patting your head to get your attention. “Since your kids are here to protect you, I should get going now.”

“Drive safely.”

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

Then he placed a haste kiss on the edge of your lips, catching you off guard and you froze. Guwon was already in his car by the time you realized what happened and turned to chastise him. You couldn't even knock on the passenger window when the arms coiled around your shoulders tightened and tugged you close.

Letting Guwon kiss you in front of one of the men who confessed to you once was the first mistake, second was looking up at Taehyung whose hug is starting to hurt.

Gone were the usual giddiness and child-like enthusiasm that would pour from his eyes. It was replaced by a colder glare, almost blank and emotionless as it narrowed behind you and jaw locked tight. There was something primal in the way his hand behind your head was pushing you closer to him as if he was hounding over his game from another predator.

Goosebumps prickled your skin awake.

If butterflies exploded in your stomach and ignited a molten heat in your abdomen at that very moment, it's a secret you’d take to your grave.

“Tae?”

“Noona, I think we should head inside. It's getting cold.” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded forced and you resisted the urge to look at him.

While their reaction to being challenged is obvious, you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why he should feel like that when he’s been seeing other people since his confession. From your past dates where he attended as one of your escape plans, he’s  never expressed such an intense show of displeasure so you thought his fleeting crush had passed.

Until tonight.

When Taehyung pulled away, the traces of his hostility were gone and you had to double take at how vastly different he's appearing now. He has his lower lip pushed out into a pout, eyes wide with mirth as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his warm palms heating your cold-nipped skin.

“Aigoo, you're so cold noona. Let's go in and binge that foreign show you've been following.”

With hands now intertwined, he leads you inside the building where Jimin was already standing inside and was holding the door open for you both. You were being tugged into your own home yet you couldn’t help but feel tense as Taehyung and Jimin welcomed you back in with the same dark look you saw earlier.